The Vines by Shelley Nolden (most motivational books .txt) 📗

force her compliance and to torment her. She pressed her baby to her chest, and his warmth radiated through her. Before she would let Ulrich break this bond, she would destroy him. Just as she’d sworn to do the day the last ferry had departed from Riverside.

To conceal her hatred, she ducked her head and gazed at her baby. A sense of awe pushed aside her loathing.

Her scalpels might still be in his physician’s bag, resting on the cart just out of her reach. Could she sever the vein that bulged from his neck? It should be as easy as slicing an apple. Not only could she do this, Cora reasoned, but she had to do this today. Once he’d removed Kristian from the island, Ulrich would be her only tie to her son.

“Your time is up. Give him to me.”

“Please, one more hour.” To fool him into thinking she was too feeble to resist, she raised an arm and let it fall.

He huffed through his respirator. “Fine, thirty minutes.” He took out a magazine and settled into his chair.

If she failed, these moments with her son would turn out to be her last. Determined not to let Ulrich’s presence ruin them, she laid Kristian on his back between her legs and played “This Little Piggy” with his toes. His cascade of giggles formed the most beautiful song she’d ever heard. Committing the sound to memory, she blinked back tears and kept up a smile for his sake.

“I love that sound,” Ulrich murmured from his chair.

As much as Cora wanted this time to belong only to Kristian and her, she needed to lull him into thinking they were once again a happy family. Only then would he put down his guard, enabling her to grab his medical kit. Even if her scalpels weren’t inside, the bag had to contain something else sharp.

“And this little piggy went wee, wee, wee, all the way home.”

Kristian cackled as her fingers traveled up his leg and tickled his belly.

“He is quite remarkable,” Ulrich said as sincerely as any father might say to his wife.

“Because of you. And me.” She massaged Kristian’s chunky thighs.

Despite his cruelty, she knew his principles had never wavered when it came to his family. Maybe he really would bring Kristian back to visit.

But not if she tried to slaughter Ulrich now. Given her weakened state, he could easily wrest a blade from her, and then there would be no question that she was unfit to mother their child. No, she couldn’t risk it.

Instead, she would cherish these final moments with her baby, and hopefully, in the process, convince Ulrich that they were a family.

She lifted Kristian’s other foot, and he pointed at her. “Mutti toes?”

Already he’d picked up the English word. “But your toes are much cuter.”

He repeated his request, so she made a Bronx cheer on his stomach.

His laughter subsided, and he touched her wet cheek, triggering new tears. He crawled up her lap and examined her face with his hands. “Mutti boo-boo?”

“No, Mommy’s not hurt. Mommy’s sad.”

“Ssssad,” he said, trying out the new word.

She looked at Ulrich, who was no longer pretending to read the magazine.

“Mommy’s sad because you’re going on a trip. A boat! But you’ll come back soon, and we’ll hunt for spiders.”

He nodded, though he couldn’t possibly have understood, and wrapped his arms around her neck.

“And Vati, too,” she said for Ulrich’s benefit. “We’ll play hide-and-seek with Vati.”

Ulrich discarded the magazine. “Time’s up.” From his bag, he removed a syringe.

White spots bombarded her vision. “What’s that?”

He tapped the tube. “A concentrated dose of . . . we’ll call it Veh Zeh.”

Cora knew he was referring to the letters V and Z in German. “What’s it for?”

“The good of society. If you ever try to come after Kristian, you’ll be dead before you reach the Williamsburg Bridge. It’s a weaponized strain of a highly lethal disease.”

She grabbed Kristian and scrambled off the far side of the bed. Another breed of microscopic monster, this one even deadlier. She couldn’t allow it into her veins. “I’ve learned my lesson, I swear, and the germs already inside me, they’d stop me anyway. On South Brother they would have succeeded if you hadn’t—”

“Roll up your sleeve,” he commanded, and Kristian began crying.

She bounced her son to calm him, but the jerky motion only worsened his distress.

Ulrich came around the bed, yanked up her sleeve, and jabbed the needle into her flesh. She shrieked, and Kristian’s wail sharpened.

Ulrich tore him from her.

“Mommy’s okay,” he said, bobbing the boy. “The shot will keep her safe, and everyone else. Do you want to ride in a boat? A real boat?” He sneered at her.

Kristian squealed and clapped his hands, and Ulrich wiped the tears from the toddler’s reddened cheeks with his rubber glove.

“Say bye-bye to Mommy.”

Kristian waved. To avoid upsetting him, she forced a smile.

Ulrich shifted their son to his hip, grabbed his kit, and strode from the room.

His footsteps echoed down the corridor.

He hadn’t even let her kiss her baby good-bye.

Her howls to bring him back drowned out his footfalls.

She staggered to the window for one last glimpse of her son. Minutes passed, and the porch outside the central entrance remained empty. Maybe he changed his mind, she thought. Holding her breath, she listened for the sound of their return.

Below, the front door banged open, and Cora bit her knuckle so hard she tasted blood.

She pressed her forehead to the glass to bring them into view.

Ulrich hurried down the front steps and onto the lawn. The fair skin of Kristian’s face, nestled in the crook of Ulrich’s shoulder and hood, stood out against the black hazmat suit.

Cora threw open the window and screamed for her boy, for her everything. Without him, she would have nothing. Be nothing.

Ulrich didn’t turn or break stride; he’d already disregarded her.

But Kristian hadn’t. He spotted her at the fourth-story window and beamed.

She blew him a kiss and he mirrored the gesture.

Devastated, her cries primal, she caught his