Chapter 32 - The Broken Bird
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The driver was a young man, barely out of his teens, shaking uncontrollably as the freezing rain soaked through his thin jacket. He kept his eyes darting frantically toward the reinforced steel doors behind him, as if expecting the shadows themselves to tear through the metal. I lowered my hand, signaling Marcus to lower his weapon, though he kept his hand firmly on the grip.
"Who sent you here?" I demanded, my voice cutting through the sound of the downpour.
"Father Thomas," the boy stammered, his teeth chattering. "From the parish in the lower east side. He said this was the only place that could keep her safe."
"Keep who safe?" I asked, taking a deliberate step closer to the vehicle.
The boy pointed a trembling finger toward the backseat of the sedan. "Her. They found us at the safe house. We barely got out. Father Thomas told me to drive until I hit the gates and to not look back."
I walked around the steaming hood of the car and peered through the rain-streaked window of the rear door. Huddled on the floorboards, wrapped in a blood-stained blanket, was a young woman. She was barely conscious, her face bruised and her breathing shallow. The sight of her ignited a familiar, cold fury deep within my chest—the exact same fury that had driven me to build this sanctuary in the first place.
"Marcus, get a medical stretcher down here immediately," I barked over my shoulder.
"Right away, sir," Marcus replied, already speaking rapidly into his radio.
I opened the car door gently, the hinges whining in protest. The girl flinched violently, pressing herself further into the cramped corner.
"You are safe now," I said softly, crouching down so I was at her eye level. "My name is Arthur. You are at the Ellen Whitaker Foundation. No one is going to hurt you here."
She blinked, her unfocused eyes slowly locking onto mine. "They... they know where I am," she whispered, her voice rasping and dry.
May you like
"They don't," I assured her firmly, reaching out to gently pull the blanket tighter around her shivering shoulders. "And even if they did, our walls are built to keep monsters out. You are completely untouchable here."
The medical team rushed into the garage, led by Ellen, who immediately took charge of the situation with her usual fierce, compassionate efficiency.
