Excerpt
- Botanicaust
[Levi's
cannibal cellmate has been recently euthanized, and he does not yet understand
Tula's language.]
The
shuffle of feet alerted him to a visitor, and at first he thought perhaps an angel
had come to give him comfort. Her yellow robe, the first real clothing he had
seen since being taken captive, swished around her ankles as she paused before
the sleeping child’s cage.
After
a few moments, she turned to approach his cage, and he recognized the woman,
Tula. Not an angel. A Blattvolk, even if she had donned clothing. She grasped
the bars with both hands and, with a sigh, pressed her green, tear-stained
cheeks against the metal. Her whispered words sounded desperate.
Rising
on unsteady legs, he pointed to Awnia’s empty cage. “Awnia?” This woman seemed
to be an advocate for the young mother.
Without
warning, the Blattvolk erupted into a fresh bout of tears.
Uncontrollable
empathy washed over Levi. “Don’t cry.” His voice cracked. The words could have
been for himself as easily as the Blattvolk. She shuddered with another sob.
He
strode forward with more strength than he knew he had and wrapped his hands
over hers where she clung to the bars. Her fingers were as cold as the metal. A
shiny pink patch of skin on her right arm contrasted sharply with the jade hue
of her skin, like a small piece of humanity peeking out at him from beneath her
Blattvolk exterior. “Tula, don’t cry,” he whispered, afraid of his own voice.
At
the sound of her name, she hiccoughed and met his gaze. This time he was struck
by the humanity in her pale blue eyes. “Tula,” she repeated.
She
searched his eyes, and he knew what she wanted. It was such a small thing,
really. Taking a sharp breath, he said, “Levi.”
“Levi.”
A smile rivaling a clear sunrise broke out on her face.
He
hoped he hadn’t just let in the devil.
But
Tula’s face was not one of temptation or evil or atrocity. Her skin might be
green, but her eyes were human, and she needed compassion. Awnia had been taken
away, and this woman seemed as upset about it as Levi was.
“Are
they going to kill her?”
She
seemed to understand the question, because she nodded. Pulling a hand from
beneath his, she wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve, then put her palm
over his knuckles and beseeched him with her grief-reddened eyes. Her words
sounded so much like “must eat,” that when she indicated his untouched canister
he understood.
Now
that he had talked to her, he’d opened a whole range of action he’d sworn not
to take. But eating the food here had not changed Awnia. It had not sealed her
damnation. And if he had any hope of convincing this woman to let him go, he
had to maintain his strength.
In
a moment of divine intuition, he felt God might want him to survive.
At
Tula’s urging, he swallowed the tepid fluid in the canister and grimaced. His
body recognized it as food, but his mouth protested every drop passing over his
tongue. She made a face and nodded as if she agreed about the taste. Then she
pulled a closed fist out of her pocket.
“Dessert,”
she said, holding out her hand. On her palm was a clear nougat the size of his
thumbnail.
The
bland drink he’d swallowed churned in his gut. Was this the agent to change him
forever? She called it dessert, the finish to a meal. Would it also be the end
of him?
He
searched her eyes again, and detected no guile there. His insides calmed, and
he knew she meant no harm. To get out of here, he was going to have to trust
her. And convince her to trust him.
Taking
the nougat between thumb and forefinger he sniffed it before touching a
tentative tongue to the surface. Sweet. It was indeed dessert. “Thank you.” He
put the lozenge into his mouth and allowed the sugars to dissolve. The candy
tasted like hope.
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