Brain(17)

It wouldn’t have gone into the very center, as it was bigger than a dart, so I assume she’d aimed for the second ring, which was where it was sunk.

She looked at Bash and said, “If I wanted you dead, it’d be in your eye. I’m not going to kill you in your sleep, but you put me in that fucking cage again and I’ll reconsider how long I think your lifespan should be.”

Bash stood, grabbed her fork, and sat back down — too fast, and I noted the way she looked at him. Yeah, I was going to have to get to the bottom of what she knew… or what she thought she knew. She was already terrified, so that was the only scent I got off her. Not helpful.

“Like I said,” I told Bash. “She’s a genius, and you might keep her captive a short time, but it’ll only be a matter of time before she outsmarts you and is miles away. She isn’t a killer, yet, but you keep pushing her? She’s close to the edge, brother. You’re gonna have to trust me to know how to deal with her, and putting her back in the cage is the wrong damned move.”

I looked at Ice’s plate, saw she still had food to eat, and instead of arguing with Bash about the fork, went to the silverware drawer and retrieved one of the plastic forks I’d seen earlier. I cut the rest of her steak for her without saying anything, and then sat back at my place to finish eating.

Bash was clearly pissed, so I took the opportunity to tell him, “We’ll handle the dishes. I need you to run into town and pick up some Tylenol.”

“I’d prefer coated aspirin, if I get a choice.”

Her voice was tentative, her eyes cautious, and I smiled at her before offering, “If you use a brand of shampoo and conditioner he can get at the drug store, he can pick some of that up, too.”

“I have the brand I use in my backpack.”

I shook my head. “Sorry, until I have a chance to go through it, you can’t have anything from your backpack. Bash can pick something up for you, otherwise you’re stuck with using my stuff.”

Would she have put a weapon in her conditioner bottle? Probably not, but it wasn’t a chance I was prepared to take.

She looked at her plate in silence a handful of seconds, and finally told me a brand and type without looking up.

I was about to repeat it to Bash, but she added, “Mother nature should be visiting me soon. If I can’t use the supplies from my backpack, I’ll need new. He can look at what I have to know what to get.”

I looked to Bash, and dared him to refuse.

He gave a curt nod, and I made a mental note to look at the underwear I’d taken off her, and tell him the size and style so he could buy her a pack.





Chapter Nine




Ice



Bash was gone to the store, and Brain and I had finished the dishes and were seated on the sofa. He had his own laptop on his legs, and he handed me three sheets of paper, each with a modified picture of me, and a bunch of text under it.

“The first picture is what you’d look like with Christine’s nose, and is the most extensive change as far as surgery. The second is what a surgeon could plausibly do with it, assuming her nose is messed up when it hits the tree. It’s how he’d improve it, if given the option. The final version requires the least amount of invasive surgery, and it’s another believable option, though a less flattering one, in the plastic surgeon’s opinion.

I read through the text of all three, set the first one aside, and debated between the other two. Finally, I said, “Let’s go with the second option for now, but once we’ve looked at all of the other changes, I may want to revisit the nose.”

He nodded and put the second option on his screen, and then handed me two more pages. “Christine’s hairline is different from yours, and her hair is long. You’ll need to get a new driver’s license in whatever state you land, and we’ll need to arrange for extensions for the picture. It’ll be possible to hide your hairline with different hairstyles, but you’ll need to be sure you always do so for any government picture, and it might be safer for him to alter it to something closer to hers. It would require he take skin from your scalp and transplant it behind your temples, so your hairline is closer to your face on the side. He says it’s close enough above your forehead.”

I read through the information, and nodded. “Yeah, okay. If I’m going to have long hair I’m gonna want the option of a ponytail.”

He handed me another image, and I couldn’t tell what the change was but the girl in the picture was certainly prettier than me, even though it was me.

“Christine’s chin is more prominent than yours, this is a chin implant.”