Beast

Nearly a thousand miles from Sophie, under the hot Texan sun, Jaya Patel ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Her dark skin glistened with sweat, and her shoelaces were coming untied. She didn't stop until, out of breath, her face red from the heat, she skidded to a halt in front of a one-story ranch on a plot of dirt.

The siding on the house was faded red, almost pink, and there was a bent weather vane on the roof that Jaya's grandmother had been meaning to fix, but couldn't because of her bad knees. There were two creaky rocking chairs on the porch where Mr. and Mrs. Patel used to sit, and there was a water dish next to the front door for the stray cat who roamed the neighborhood. Jaya hurried up the steps and threw open the screen door. Her grandmother's old economy car was the only one parked in the driveway, a good sign.

"Naani!" she yelled as she entered the house, searching desperately for her grandmother. Jaya found her in the kitchen, talking on the phone. Her grandmother looked up at her for a moment, annoyed at the interruption, and put a finger to her lips, signaling for quite.

"Please," Jaya said, grabbing her grandmother's arm, trying to pull the phone away, "it's important! Please!"

"Shh!" Jaya's grandmother shrugged her off, then said into the receiver, "I'll have to call you back later. Hm? Yes. Jaya just got home. Okay, bye," she hung up the phone then turned to Jaya. "What? You should still be in school. Why are you home so early?" she asked irritably, her hands on her hips. Her voice had a faint Indian accent.

"Naani, they were at my school!" Jaya said breathlessly, clinging to her grandmother's arm again.

"Who was at your school?" her grandmother asked seriously, staring down at the desperate, terrified little girl. Her shiny black hair was all in her face and her pink back pack was slipping off one shoulder. Her knees were scratched up too. She must have fallen.

"Them. They were at my school. They were at my school, Naani. How do they know where I go to school? How do they know where I go to school?" Jaya cried, on the verge of hysterics.

"Who, Jaya sweetie? Who was at your school?" her grandmother asked once more, putting her hands on Jaya's shoulders to hold the fidgety nine-year-old still.

"You know. Those guys in the black suits and the badges. The ones from the bad time," Jaya explained pleadingly, quickly becoming frustrated that her grandmother didn't understand.

"When did you see them?"

"At school. We were going out to recess and I saw them talking to the principal, so I just ran. I didn't want them to make me talk to them again, so I ran home," Jaya sobbed, collapsing onto her grandmother and clinging to her waist.

"Oh," her grandmother gasped, patting Jaya on the back. "Go change into your pajamas. Pick out a movie and you can watch it in my room."

Jaya nodded sullenly and wiped her eyes.

"Do you think they'll come here?" she croaked in a hoarse whisper.

"Yes," her grandmother said tersely, "but you don't need to talk to them. I won't let them ask you anymore questions if you don't want them to."

Jaya coughed weakly then walked down the wallpapered hallway to her room. Her grandmother, Shrina Patel, sighed and looked around the kitchen. What to do? This was not good. Not at all.

The men in the black suits had first showed up to talk to Jaya four years ago when the, "bad times," as Jaya liked to called them, had started. Shrina couldn't imagine what they wanted to ask the little girl now. The case had closed in a matter of weeks. It was over. There was nothing more that Jaya could tell them, and Shrina thought it was best if she were left alone. That poor little girl had been through enough, more than most grown adults had, and Shrina would not, under any circumstances, make her granddaughter relive those bad times again.

"Unless..." Shrina whispered to herself, and tapped her chin with her forefinger. She shook her head. It was out the question. It could not possibly be true. It had better not be true.

"No," she said with finality. "No."

Shrina walked down the hall to check on Jaya, who was sitting on her bed wearing a baggy green t-shirt from summer camp and black basketball shorts.

"Do you want any help turning the movie on?" Shrina asked kindly.

"Nope, I can do it," Jaya smiled as she turned on the TV. While Jaya was busy opening the DVD, Shrina checked on the windows to make sure that they were locked.

"Why don't we keep this door open, okay?" Shrina said as she left her bedroom to check on the windows in Jaya's room and in the bathroom.

"Okay," Jaya's voice called as Shrina entered the room across the hallway.

A few minutes later, after Shrina had made sure that all the windows and doors were locked, she settled herself at the kitchen table with a tall glass of iced tea. She could hear Jaya down the hall, laughing at whatever movie she had picked out. It was probably the one about the dolphins. That was one of Jaya's favorites.

As Shrina put her empty glass in the sink, the door bell rang. She hurried over to the living room window and pulled back the curtains to look out onto the porch to see who the visitor was. A man, perhaps in his mid thirties, with a strong build and a military hair cut, wearing a crisp black suit, stood at the door.

Shrina cleared her throat as she walked over to the door, standing up straight with her shoulders back, bracing herself for whatever she was about to face.

"Hello?"

"Hello, ma'am. I'm Special Agent Tyler Griffin, from the Fortis," he held up his badge for Shrina to see. "You're Shrina Patel, correct?"

"Yes,"

"I just need to ask you and Jaya a few questions," his manner was calm and professional, but that didn't mean that Shrina trusted him.

"My granddaughter is done answering your questions. Anything you need to say to her, you can say to me," Shrina replied coldly. She didn't want to be rude, really, she didn't. She couldn't stand impolite people, but Jaya's welfare was much more important than Shrina's manners.

"That's not a problem. Do you mind if we step inside?" Griffin gestured towards the living room.

Shrina stepped aside so that he could enter, and swiftly closed the door behind him. Griffin's dark eyes quickly swept the small room. There were two old arm chairs on either side of an older wooden table, across from a worn, but clean, sofa. Next to the sofa were a few bookshelves full of writings on politics and medicine. There was a large ceiling fan in the center of the room, which, thankfully, was turned on, and there was a shelf full of school pictures of Jaya and her basketball trophies. There was no television or any other electronics. Judging by the decor, the Patel family was lower middle class. Or perhaps they just lived well within their means.

Shrina led him over to the kitchen table and he sat across from her. She was thankful that Jaya was too immersed in her movie to notice what was going on out there.

"What is this all about?" Shrina asked, gesturing towards Griffin and the briefcase he was holding. Normally, she would have offered Griffin a drink or something to eat, but she didn't worry herself with hospitality. She wanted this to be over with quickly.

"I want to discuss your son-in-law-..." Griffin began before he was interrupted.

"That man is no son of mine," Shrina put in icily, but anxiously, shaking her head quickly.

Griffin grimaced, "Yes, as that may be, we still have a few questions for you about him."

"Why?"

"Well," Griffin began, setting down his briefcase and folding his hands in front of himself, "I regret to have to tell you this, but recently there was a breakout at the institute where he was being kept."

"No!" Shrina gasped, her hand flying to her chest. This was what she had been afraid of. "How long ago was this?"

"Three days ago. Thus far, we've been unable to locate him and we were wondering-"

"Wondering what? If I've been hiding him in my basement? Because I most certainly have not," Shrina said defensively.

Griffin shook his head, "No, ma'am. But we do think that there is a very good chance that he will try to contact Jaya. First off, we want to warn you of this threat, and second off, we want to offer you and your granddaughter security."

"What kind of security? Do you think he is a danger to Jaya?" Shrina asked.

"As of right now, we're still assessing what kind of threat he poses to you and your family, but we can offer you round the clock security, someone to watch out for him," Griffin offered.

"In other words you know nothing? And I don't want some cop sitting on my front step twenty-four hours a day," Shrina said, crossing her arms. She knew that she was being difficult but was too angry at the Fortis to stop herself. How could they have been so careless? A prisoner escaped under their watch. Someone had to be held responsible, and it certainly was not going to be her.

Griffin smirked, "You won't even know we're here. We're good at keeping a low profile."

"Indeed," Shrina raised her eyebrows, staring Griffin down.

"So you'll take it?"

"No," Shrina said shortly, getting up and walking over to the sink to clean the dishes. She knew that even with her refusal, the Fortis would keep watch over her house anyway.

"Ma'am, I don't think you understand the full gravity of the situation," Griffin said, not moving from his spot at the table.

Shrina concentrated on the glass in her hand, "First of all, my name is not ma'am, it's Shrina. And second of all, I understand perfectly well. You lost him, but that's not my problem, it's yours. Now, let me make myself perfectly clear, Mr. Griffin, the next time I hear from the Fortis, it had better be when you come to tell me that that man is six feet under the ground, do you understand that? You expect me to help you? You want me to help you find him, after all the help your agency has been to me and my family? I don't think so. What I think is that it's time for you to leave."

Griffin sighed, "Very well. But I must ask that if you see any sign of Hammedy that you call us straight away, okay?" he asked, taking his business card out of his pocket and laying it on the counter next to Shrina. "I'll see myself out."

Once she heard the front door slam, Shrina picked upon Griffin's card and examined it. Special Agent Griffin's information was typed in neat black ink across the tiny card and the Fortis's seal was stamped on the back. With a look of disgust on her face, she crumpled the card up and dropped it down the drain, then wiped her hands off on a dish towel and turned on the garbage disposal.