by Jade Alters
"He doesn't seem to be in any hurry to get to us," said Damon.
"Yeah," seconded Gunner. "I wonder why."
"Probably cleaning off the shit in his pants," I said cockily.
I knotted the shirts together and climbed the creaky fence. The scent of rust filled my nose, and I sneezed.
"Hurry the fuck up," said Ryker.
I flipped him off and since I was near the top, slung the shirts over the sharp barbs. It would still hurt. I had lost my sneakers in the shift, but I leveraged my right foot at the top to haul the rest of my body over the edge.
And stopped short.
"Um, guys. I know why no one is watching this fence line."
"Why?" huffed Ryker.
"Is it alligator or crocodiles in this part of the world?"
"Crocodiles," said Damon.
"Okay, there are crocs here."
"How many crocs?" asked Ryker.
"A fuck ton. Like in someone stocks this moat here with crocodiles and leaves them hungry."
"They have to eat something."
"Maybe they eat each other," said Gunner.
As if to disprove Gunner's point one of the crocs ran up to the fence and hissed.
"Whoa," said Damon staring at the ugly mass of reptile.
"Someone needs to get laid," opined Gunner.
"I don't want to be the dinner and show part of that," I said.
"Crocodiles are ecumenical in their diet," said Damon.
"Speak in English, you over-educated fuck," I snapped.
"They'll eat anything," said Gunner, laughing.
I'd flip off Gunner too if I didn't need my hands to balance on top of this pin cushion. Honestly, if I stayed here any longer, I'd lose the feeling in my feet.
"What do you suggest I do here, guys? Because if I stay here longer, I'll be in the running for the longest gymnastic pose held in an escape attempt."
"Stop being a wuss," said Ryker. "You've faced worse situations in BUDs training."
"Yeah, like when you fell from that forty-foot-high rope," offered Gunner.
"Fuck you. Like you didn't whimper when they poured benzoin tincture into your broken calluses. Who was a wuss then?"
"Shit. The stuff nearly lit my hands on fire."
"In your imagination."
"Quit it," snapped Ryker. "How wide is that moat?"
"About ten feet."
"And the slope of the decline?" asked Damon.
"About thirty degrees."
"What do you think, Damon?"
"Think what?" I said.
"I think he can do it if he shifts before he does."
"Do what?" I snarled.
"Jump," said Ryker.
I was about to argue because I don't like the idea, but then I caught movement at the hangar door, and Dr. Melkot walked out holding his tranq gun.
"Go, go, go," ordered Ryker.
The others shifted and ran at Melkot, probably hoping that one would get through. I saw Melkot shooting off the gun and hitting one after the other of my teammates, and I have no choice. If I don't get out of here, there is no one to get us help.
"I'll be back," I said under my breath, and I coiled my muscles and jumped and shifted at the same time.
Human ancestors may have descended from the trees, but jaguars still lived in them. I sprang forward and down, catching the crocodiles' attention who churned the water in their race under me hoping to make me their next meal. I hit the edge of the moat, with several of the reptiles nipping my heels. They followed me as I sprinted across the strip of land beyond the moat. At top speed, a jaguar can sprint sixty miles per hour, and I easily outpaced them. A shorter chain-link fence ran at the bottom of the incline, and I jumped that.
And I ran, not knowing where I was going, or who I would encounter. I had to find help and get back to my teammates before Melkot shipped them off somewhere else. It's clear to me that Melkot went rogue and probably planned on selling our children to the highest bidder. The thought made me angrier, putting speed into my paws, and I churned the ground as my claws dug in for traction. Ahead of me ran a strip of concrete so it must be a road of some type. Roads mean civilization. To my right were mountains, and to the left more open land. Mountains meant most times, backwoods and less civilization, and clear areas pointed to water sources where people congregated, so I turned left and followed the road.
My sides ached from the exertion of running. Now a sharp pain shot through a back paw where a croc must have snagged it before I pulled away from it. But I would keep pushing because my team depended on me. When I found Melkot, I'd rip him a brand new asshole because a jerk like that deserves two just on general principles. It was my hate that drove me now and my concern for my teammates, and I wondered where the hell my mate was because she could be in danger too. All it took was one of us idiots to mutter her name in our sleep, and Melkot would be on her like white on rice.
The road sloped slightly downward. Down meant water, and water meant people and if I was lucky enough, I was on an island with an American consulate. The brass could disavow us, but I had to try. It was the only place where I could send a message to our central command and possibly get help. Surely, they wouldn't allow Melkot to keep us, even if it meant we'd had to spend time in the brig for fucking up.
A ramshackle shack rose on the right, and then another. Many of the houses looked torn apart and then I remembered Hurricane Maria ripped the Caribbean apart. When I passed a cluster, I knew I was getting closer to the city. I thought briefly what I looked like, a jaguar running along the road, but though I heard people yelling, I was on a mission, and I wouldn't stop.
When I ran into the city proper, a police car chased me, and then another joined him, and I had to change strategy. They'd have no problem shooting a wild animal. So I found an alley with a clothesline strung across it on which clothes hung to dry. I grabbed what I could with my teeth and fled with them flapping behind me. In a darker alley, I dropped the clothes and shifted and dressed.
Every bone and muscle ached. I've shifted four times today, and I had never done that. Shifting took a tremendous amount of energy, and I was ravenous and sick to my stomach from hunger at the same time.
I sat for a few minutes, gathering my breath and my thoughts, but soon pushed myself to my feet. I walked casually out of the alley to blend into the crowd on the narrow street. Then a gray-haired woman jabbering at me in heavily-accented English confronted me. She poked at the clothes I wore.
The policeman who had chased me earlier pulled up.
"Is there a problem?"
"Thief, thief!" the woman cried.
In a flash, he put handcuffs on me and stuffed me in the back of the police car.
"Why did you steal those woman's clothes?" asked the police officer. He spoke in English accented with a rolling rhythm as the car drove through the streets.
"Someone stole mine. I didn't want to walk around naked."
"Are you American?"
"Yes."
"And you lost your wallet and ID?"
"Yes," I said with some relief. He at least sounded helpful.
"What hotel are you staying in?"
"I'm not. I just got here, and well…"
He shook his head. "Street gangs are nasty here, like America, eh? You should know better than to walk around an unfamiliar place."
"You don't know the half of it."
"Well, you must face the magistrate, but I can arrange a phone call to the American Embassy in Barbados."
"There isn't one here?"
"Americans," he huffed. "Thinks the world belongs to them. No. Your government keeps a consulate in Barbados. That's who you must appeal to for help."
"That's fine," I said. All I needed was the phone call, and I could get the ball rolling. And I hoped he hurried because there was no telling what Melkot was doing to my team.
We reached the police station, and he led me up into the building, and my head snapped up. A familiar scent reached my nose, and
I stared at the police desk and could not believe my eyes.
"Look, Sid," she said with her hand wrapped around the handle of a phone handset. "The police station is the only place that's letting me place calls, and that's only because if I don't get some papers, they will jail me. They are big on immigration issues here. No worse than that. You're my boss and supposed to help me. Yes, I know that I left without your permission, but this is a huge story. Yes, I've tried to reach the consulate in Barbados, but no one seems to be available. My money and my passport are in St. Lucia at my hotel. I need some money, some help to get another passport. Yes, it's a big story, and it's all yours, but I can't write it until I get out of Dominica."
"Jeanine?"
She spun around, and her eyes grew wide. "Kane? What? Sid, I've got to go. Just wire me the money to the Western Union office, okay? Bye." She stared at me. "Why are you in handcuffs?"
"Do you know this man?" said the constable.
"Yes, he's my—"
"Husband, I'm her husband. Baby? I've been looking all over for you. Thank God you are okay."
She rushed to me and put her arms around me. "Kane, oh my God. I thought—"
"Shh, shh," I said. "It's okay now."
"Is it?"
"Not quite."
"You're right," she said. "I can't find Surma anywhere."
Damon
As we say in the Navy, "Situation Normal, All Fucked Up."
Dr. Meltdown left us in the dark in all ways possible. He knew that while we can see at night, we cannot in total blackness, and he wanted to make things as uncomfortable as possible. He turned off the lights, didn't feed us, and didn't let us congregate. Melkot knew how those things will affect us. Not the dark thing, but with my fast metabolism, the lack of food was a problem. Feral is what Melkot called it, the unreasoning aggression that overtook us when our cats got angry. We could control it better than when we were teens, but worrying about the fate of Kane and Jeanine might send me over the edge. Kane could take care of himself, but figuring out how Melt was now a rogue agent made me worry about what he did to Jeanine.
Melkot knew our ins and outs because he researched them when we were in our teens. But things changed when they sent us into the military for training. We were the youngest group there, and it was brutal. We started with an eight-week boot camp and progressed into a year and a half of different SEAL training programs designed to be impossibly difficult.
In BUDs training, our day started at 5 a.m. with a five-mile run before breakfast. The rest of the day and half the night was one punishing physical feat after another. We all got deep cuts and calluses on our hands while brutal instructors physically and verbally abused us.
It was for our own good. but the dropout rate for that twenty-six weeks of misery can run from seventy to ninety percent. Like they said in roll call, "Look to the right and to the left and say 'goodbye.' One of you won't be here tomorrow."
But that wasn't us, not Team Shadow. We always stuck it out because if one of us rang out, we'd all have to do the same.
And none of us wanted that.
So, I sat, and waited, and ignored the clawing hunger in my belly. I needed to see my teammates and missed my mate. I had to believe that Kane was out there getting help for us and that he wasn't lying in a ditch dead.
Okay, so I'm fatalistic when I haven't eaten. I put those candy bar commercials to shame, the ones that say, "You aren't you when you're hungry."
Footsteps walked down the hall, and I readied the homemade rope I constructed from my sheets. It wasn't easy to tear the fabric quietly. I had to sing over the sound of the sheet tearing, but then I braided the strips together and made knots through it. It was an effective weapon.
The door opened, and I covered my eyes in case they turned on the light because I didn't want to get blinded. And the light flashed on, and what, or rather who, I scented was familiar, but I couldn't place it.
"Are you okay?"
My eyes adjusted, and I pulled my hands away and stared.
"You're Jeanine's friend, Surma."
"Yes." She swallowed hard. Though she'd cleaned up, her faces still showed ugly bruises."
"Do you know what happened to Jeanine?"
"No. Do you?"
She shook her head.
"So they didn't take her on the ship?"
"What ship? It was just a stupid raft with an outboard motor. And no, Jeanine wasn't on it. Not with me."
"Fuck," I mumbled. "Do you know why you are here?"
"Morgan—he kidnapped women. A bunch, and I was one. He took them someplace. I don't know. I was the last one. He waited for some doctor to pick me up.
"Melkot?"
"Yeah, that's the name. He did some tests." Surma shivered, and I felt terrible for her. Volunteers, my foot. Melkot had Morgan kidnap women for his crazy plan to breed more shifters. He probably had plans to sell the children to the highest bidders.
"What's your name?" asked Surma in a quiet voice.
"Damon."
"How do you know Jeanine?"
"I, I mean, we met her on Morgan's ship. We were doing security work for him."
"I don't remember you. I was on the yacht for a while."
"We didn't see your either. Jeanine kept asking. Morgan must have kidnapped you before we arrived."
"Yeah," she said. "That makes sense."
Her voice had a faraway sound.
"Surma, are you feeling okay?"
"No. The doctor made me take a pill. He's been giving me lots of pills, ones that make me feel like I'm burning up. I didn't want to, but he said if I did, I could eat. But instead, he brought me here."
"He's outside the door?" I whispered.
"He was, but he said he was going someplace to watch."
I almost asked, "Watch what?" until I caught an enticing scent. Her arousal hit me hard, and my cat stirred inside, restless, missing his mate. Fuck that Melkot. Why did Surma smell like this, like she was in heat? My cat growled within me, and restlessness filled me. I would surely take this woman but for my bond with Jeanine. No, I didn't want her, only Jeanine. Unreasoning anger stirred and shook my body, and I had to do something before I lost control. I took Surma's arms and propelled her to the bathroom.
"Get into the bathroom. Lock the door. Take the longest shower ever. Don't come out of the bathroom, do you understand?"
"No," she said.
"I'm not safe to be around."
"You look fine to me."
I roared, something I rarely do, and a startled Surma shrieked and backed into the bathroom. She slammed the door, the lock turned then clicked, and the shower started.
Good.
The intercom crackled.
"This is pointless," Melkot said. "Sooner or later, you will give in."
"Sooner or later, you can go fuck yourself. I suggest sooner." I picked up the metal chair from the desk and bashed it against the speaker set in the wall. I smashed it many times until it the metal plate over the speaker dented in and the legs on the metal chair were no longer straight. Then I started on the steel door banging on it with all my strength. I didn't expect to get far, but at least I could make my point. Each strike against the door reverberated through my body, but it also created an explosively large noise. The alarm klaxon sounded. Good. Melkot got the message. I didn't care what he did to me. I would not be part of his crazy plan.
I would not betray my mate.
Footsteps came, more men than I thought that Melkot had here and stopped at the door. I stood to the side and held the chair in the air and waited.
The door opened, and I swung but had to stop suddenly. My breath hitched as I looked upon the one person I didn't expect to see.
"Damon?" said Jeanine. I stared at her. She wore a camo uniform though she had no weapons. Behind her stood Kane in full uniform and tactical gear and a group of heavily armed men.
"What are you doing here?"
"Saving your butt."
"Both of us," said Kane.
"You couldn't stop me if you tried."
"And I tried," said Kane with a smirk.
"Where are Ryker and Gunner?" said Jeanine.
"Let's get these other doors open," ordered Kane. He pointed to two men behind them who worked on the keypads on the walls and pried them apart. This seemed old-fashioned but the most effective way to open the doors without the codes. Soon, these techs had the doors open.
"Are we late to the party?" said a rough voice. Gunner looked like hell like I probably did.
"Gunner!" said Jeanine. She whirled and gave him a big hug.
"Hey, what the hell is going on here?" growled Ryker.
"Ryker!" Jeanine hugged him too.
"Hello, mate," rumbled Ryker.
I put down the chair and grabbed Kane's arm. "We will have a long talk about Jeanine being here later."
"Yes," said Jeanine with a warning in her voice. "We will."
"What's going on?" At this moment, the bathroom door opened and Surma, half-wrapped in one of my small towels, poked her head out.
"Surma?"
"Jeanine?"
Jeanine stared at me with heat in her eyes with her hands on her hips.
"Why is my friend in your room naked?"
"Don't answer that," said Kane with a smirk. "Your answer will be used against you."
"And not in a court of law," said Gunner.
She faced me with her eyes blazing. "And what about Surma?"
"Not my idea," I said.
"That's true," said Surma, who acted a good deal soberer now than when she walked in my room. "Dr. Melkot brought me here."
"Bastard," said Jeanine. "Have they gotten that creep yet?"
Kane spoke to another man, who spoke into a radio at his shoulder and nodded.
"They found him in a closet. He's in custody now," said Kane.
"Good," said Jeanine. She spun toward me. "Just what did you do to Surma?" she said fiercely.
I held up my hands. "Nothing. I swear."
"He made me go into the bathroom and shower," said Surma. By now, she had wrapped the blanket from my bunk around her.
"Was that before or after?" said Jeanine. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at me.