Healing Minds

Xavier padded over to Josh and nudged him with his snout. He was alive but unconscious. The smell of vomit drew his attention, and his wolf whined faintly in sympathy for the poor kid. Xavier sat next to Josh and took a moment to take in the situation. This was the first time his shift hadn’t been triggered by that damn voice that constantly bounced around inside his head. Even now he could hear it in the back of his mind, telling him to leave, to hunt. To hunt for shifters.

Xavier thought this was a success. He’d shifted of his own free will and had a choice whether to follow the voice or to reject it. He and his wolf had decided together, together after fighting for so long, to transform. The voice didn’t have anything to do with his shift this time. And he was sure he was staring at the reason this very moment.

Josh.

His lapses stopped when this kid arrived, when Josh started talking to him. Somehow, someway, Josh’s voice was able to drown out the evil one. And boy, did that kid talk. And talk. And talk. About everything and anything. At first, Xavier had found it annoying. But then, when Josh’s voice became the only one he heard for stretches of time, he realized the gift he’d been given. The kid’s voice was able to steady his thoughts and allow him to think. Xavier couldn’t explain why, but did he need to? It was enough to know he had a small chance of being normal again.

But not if he stayed here. He looked around and knew he had to leave. The Agency meant well, but this place, their scents, they were too much like the other place. The bad place―the place where all this began. The voice thrived on those sensory memories, and if he was to get rid of that voice, he had to leave. Now.

Closing his eyes, Xavier focused on his breathing. He remembered what it was like to have fingers, to feel his hair brush against his eyes. He focused on his dulled senses, the sensation of walking upright. Slowly and steadily, he shifted back into human form, the change natural. Yet it still exhausted him. He knelt on the floor, slightly dizzy. He stared at his hands, at the blood coating them. They were scarred, rough, and slightly bony. His fingers curled into fists.

Who had done this to him? Who had made him into a monster? Who had stolen his life, made him forget his memories from before? Who had put this madness inside him?

He didn’t have any answers. Xavier stared at Josh. But the kid might. Coming to a decision, he stood and walked out of the room. The security system had been compromised. He knew that much. An explosion like that, an alarm should have gone off. But it didn’t. Xavier knew, in his gut, that he had time. A little time before backup came. If backup was coming at all. There might be a silent alarm, but the attackers hadn’t been amateurs. They’d cut all electricity to this place, after all.

He stepped delicately over debris strewn across the floor, careful where he put his feet, and searched for a bathroom. His own was damaged by the explosion. He found it quickly, through the break room, and scrubbed himself clean. His movements were mechanical, efficient. He hardly thought about what he was doing; he just did it. He splashed himself with hot water and dragged soapy hands through his hair. He really was a mess. Using paper towels to dry off, he walked back into the room that had been his home for who-knew-how-long.

He stepped carelessly over those he’d dismembered and continued over to where they kept his spare garments and put them on, knowing he would have to find better clothing before long. There were no shoes, but Xavier easily stepped over the debris again.

He went directly over to Josh, carefully lifted the kid, and slung him over his shoulder. The poor kid probably had a mild concussion. Xavier still remembered the sight, the noise, of Josh smacking his head against the plexiglass. Xavier bared his teeth, his wolf crouching. Before he shifted again, Xavier shook himself, hard. Focus. He needed to stay focused.

Proceeding over to the locked cabinet, Xavier fished the keys out of Josh’s pocket and opened the doors. He found a treasure trove of weapons and set Josh on the floor to grab as many as he could. He’d smelled the metal, the gunpowder. Even in human form, his senses were heightened, but still dull compared to his wolf’s senses.

Xavier realized, after handling all the weapons with skill and efficiency, that he must have done something like this before he was taken. But what? His memories of his early life were fuzzy. Then again, so were his memories during his time of insanity―as he considered it. His only real, distinct memory was waking up in that cage with a short, blue-eyed man staring at him from the other side.

“My name is Agent Poe,” the man had said, his voice steady and calm. Hard. “I don’t know if you can understand me, but you are safe. You won’t be hurting anyone, and no one will hurt you here. Can you tell me your name?”

But Xavier couldn’t tell Agent Poe his name. He didn’t know it at the time. He’d only remembered his name a couple of days ago.

Shaking away those thoughts, ordering himself to focus on the present, Xavier considered Josh’s key ring. There were many keys on it, but one he recognized as a vehicle key. Perfect.

Leaving Josh and the weapons, Xavier walked carefully through the mess. He glanced briefly at the fallen light, up to the ceiling, then back down at the floor. How did that fall? It was well beyond the blast radius of both explosions. Strange. He shrugged and continued walking.

The front doors looked untouched by explosion, which meant those black-clothed invaders must have hacked their way inside. Xavier stepped outside and instantly swung his head away from the searing sun. He blinked, his eyes stinging. He threw his arm up to block the rays. Half blind, he struggled to look around. It didn’t take him long to spot the truck sitting alone in the driveway in front of the building. People still walked up and down the street, going about their business.

The building must have some great soundproofing to keep several bomb blasts hidden. Xavier didn’t have a problem with that.

The next few minutes went by quickly. He hauled Josh―gently and careful of his head―into the cab of the truck before shoving the rifles and axe behind the seat. He tucked a handgun in his waistband, making sure the safety was on, and grabbed as much food and supplies as he could from the break room. He covered the guns and axe with the tarp, just in case someone happened to look into the cab. He packed the food efficiently in the back and covered it with another tarp, tying it securely together. His movements were automatic, as if he’d done this many times before. Xavier tried not to wonder why he had this sort of knowledge. His memories would come back, just like his name. Whether he wanted them to or not.

Starting the truck, he backed out of the parking lot and sped down the road.