A Different Kind of Animal

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

“L-L-Leonardo,” an old man stuttered, voice squeaky with fear, and Leo whipped his head back toward the man in his grip.

Leo recognized him. The old doctor was one of them. He was the one who would quietly stitch Leo up after Leo’s brawls with Big Ben in the past. He couldn’t remember his name, though.

All he could think at that moment was that the old man smelled like food.

Leo roughly pulled the man’s clothing to his nose, inhaling deeply and moaning. The smell of cow’s meat was on the old doctor’s lab coat, as if he’d been recently handling it.

“Where is it!” Leo snarled, losing the brief sense of reason that Arabelle’s presence had brought him.

The old doctor’s mouth moved soundlessly as he struggled to get a word out. His eyes were so wide with panic that Leo thought they’d pop from his head. Finally, in answer to Leo’s prompting growl, he pointed a shaky finger back into the hall.

Some part of Leo thought that this could be a trap, but he was too driven by his need to even care. He threw the doctor aside, and then he gripped Arabelle’s arm and wheeled her after him, following the smell of raw meat into the hall.

There, on one of their sterile metal carts, sat a heaping plate of bloody steaks. Leo’s mouth pooled with saliva, and he couldn’t help the bestial moan that once again escaped his mouth.

Food!

Lurching the cart into the nearest room with Arabelle in tow, Leo slammed the door behind them and then fell on the platter in a frenzy. He couldn’t bring the meat to his mouth fast enough, not caring that it was still chilled from being refrigerated. Tearing off chunks only small enough to swallow, he ate every last bite.

Then, his mind in a stupor, he managed to think to lock the door before pulling Arabelle down into a chair with him. She’d been quiet the whole time, and she remained that way until he fell into a deep sleep with a contented sigh, his arms wrapped around her.

*     *     *

“Leo?” Arabelle nudged him gently, biting her lip with worry. He looked so peaceful that she hated to wake him.

He opened his eyes groggily, looked around for a few seconds, and then snapped to full attention, bolting upright. She gasped and fell back, thinking that he was still wild. But then he saw her, and his eyes filled with nothing but concern.

“Arabelle.” He said her name as if he were worried about her, when it should have been the other way around. His eyebrows furrowed. “Where are we?”

For a moment she thought that he didn’t remember anything. But then his eyes seemed to cloud over, becoming distant. When he focused on her again, he looked ashamed and…sad. He went to pull her into his arms, but then he looked down at his blood-dried skin and grimaced, thinking better of it.

“We need to get you out of here,” he said, voice gruff. Briefly touching her arm affectionately, he started pacing around the room. She stared after him, her fingers brushing the spot on her arm. That one touch lingered, erasing any doubts she’d had that he was back to himself.

“Leo, they want to help us.” She kept her voice quiet, hoping to avoid the reaction that she suspected she’d get.

He spun around, voice steely. “No, they don’t! They want to kill us!”

That was thereaction she’d wanted to avoid.

Wringing her hands together, she spoke quickly, “I guess they didn’t know I was here. Some guy named Mark told them he’d seen me. They don’t agree with General Jameson or Big Ben at all. Why do you think Dr. Johnson opened the door to let you out? Why do you think he fed you? Why do you think I’m out of that room?”