The Daughter of Doctor Moreau(75)

“You intend to remain at Yaxaktun?” Lupe asked.

“I can’t leave my father here,” Carlota said, and she began walking back toward the house. Lupe walked close to her. Montgomery frowned and followed a few paces behind them.

“Loti, you can’t stay in the house alone. Besides, the doctor is a bad man. He lied to you. To all of us!”

“I can’t leave him to rot alone in bed. Maybe you don’t care, but I do.”

“No, I don’t care,” Lupe said vehemently. “He made us knowing full well Lizalde would come to collect his due one day. He told us lies. Worst of all, he tattooed death in our flesh. Have you seen us? Have you seen the elders and the way their muscles and bones ache? And Cachito and I will be old before our time. He deserves his fate. Don’t be stupid, Loti. Run away while you can.”

“You must get ready,” Carlota muttered, walking faster, not wanting to consider the idea. Lupe picked up the pace, too.

“Is it that you still want that man? Are you thinking Eduardo Lizalde is going to save you?” Lupe asked.

Carlota did not reply, her hands pressed against her skirts. Lupe stared at her incredulously and chuckled. “Are you really thinking of him?”

“No. I’m thinking of my father. But if I could talk to Eduardo, perhaps he would convince Hernando Lizalde not to pursue you.”

“You are a great fool. Fine! Stay behind. I’m leaving,” Lupe said, and she turned around and walked back toward the huts of the hybrids.

Carlota took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Her head throbbed, aching with the excess of the previous night. She didn’t understand how Montgomery could make a habit out of drinking, nor how she could have thought liquor would fix her problems. Well, she knew now that neither flesh nor spirits provided the comfort she sought. As Montgomery had said, what she wanted was not to be found at the bottom of a bottle, but she had no idea where it might be.

She wished to be unafraid and for the world to be good. Neither thing seemed possible.

“Lupe’s not wrong,” Montgomery said. He had his hands in the pockets of his trousers, and despite his bleary appearance a little while ago he seemed alert now, gray eyes inviting her to debate, as he often did.

“You think I’m stupid, too?” she asked, unable to stop herself from sounding bitter and more disagreeable than she wanted to.

“I think you should leave.”

“My father can’t be moved, and I can’t leave without him.”

“Hernando Lizalde will not be nice. That man is out for blood, and I doubt Eduardo will protect you.”

“I realize the risk I’m taking,” she said, voice firm.

“I’m not sure you do,” he muttered.

The grass grew tall by the white limestone path that led from the dividing wall back to the house. When she’d been a child, the grass had been taller than her and she’d crouched there, giggling; she’d played hide-and-seek with her father. Now she pulled a couple of blades, twisting them between her hands.

“You won’t change my mind. To leave him alone would mean to leave him to die. I won’t do that, never.”

“We could take Dr. Moreau with us. Make a stretcher or a contraption of some sort,” Montgomery suggested, but she shook her head.

“It would slow the others down and it might kill him. I’ll stay.”

“Then I’ll stay with you,” he said quickly.

“You don’t—”

“I promised I would last night, didn’t I?”

“It doesn’t mean you knew then what you’d be promising.”

“I keep my promises, Miss Moreau, whatever they may be.”

“On this occasion you might wish to reconsider and break your vow.”

“No, I won’t.”

“It’s not as if you’d be any help if you did stay.”

“You know, Carlota, there will be a day when you’ll actually agree with me, but that day will be the day the world ends. Still, I look forward to it.”

She could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn’t going anywhere, and she let out a sigh, but she felt terribly grateful.

“Thank you, Monty,” she said and took his hand between her own.

He scratched his head and looked at her with no small amount of nervousness. She wondered what he was thinking and what made him anxious. “Look here, Carlota, I should tell you—”

“Montgomery!” Cachito waved at them from the door that led to the workers’ living area. “What should we do about the horses and the donkeys? And Aj Kaab insists we should take a pig with us. He’s a glutton. I don’t think we should!”

Montgomery sighed and frowned, turning to look at Cachito with ill-concealed irritation.

Carlota smiled and released his hand. “Go ahead, sir. We’ll talk later,” she told him.

“Carlota, I take my leave for now,” Montgomery said, very formally, tipping his straw hat at her before walking toward Cachito and yelling back at him. “What, then, doesn’t he want a turkey to go with it? Let me talk to him!”





Chapter 24


    Montgomery


He’d never been skilled at goodbyes and would have preferred to simply wave away silently. Still, he talked to the boy.