Leaving Level Five

by L. S. O'Dea

  It wasn’t a bad idea but...”No. I can’t ask my father and uncle and the two of you to live the rest of your lives on the run.”

  “We were strays for years. It ain’t that bad.”

  “This will be different. Conguise will hunt us. He’ll never give up.” The professor would lose everything, including his own life, if news of Level Five ever reached the populace.

  “I-I think leaving is safest.”

  Glassick tugged on Charlie’s shirt.

  “We have to take him too.”

  McBrid’s jaw locked. That was just perfect, escaping with a Brush-Man. “Charlie...”

  “We can’t leave him.”

  Glassick chirped and raced down Charlie’s body to the cuff of his pants. He pulled out an egg sack and chirped some more.

  “Put those in a container.” He didn’t need this right now. He was already in deep trouble. If anyone found those eggs nothing would save him.

  Glassick jumped up and down, chirping louder and louder.

  “I don’t think he wants us to do that,” said Charlie.

  “Do you think I care what he wants?” His words came out like a snap. “He didn’t think for one minute about what I wanted. Did you?” He glared at the little Brush-Man. “I’ll tell you what I didn’t want. I didn’t want you to risk all our lives with your little egg collecting endeavor.”

  Glassick chirped louder.

  “They’re his kind. He was trying to save them,” said Charlie.

  “They’re not like him. Don’t you understand?” He bent to look the Brush-Man straight in the eyes. “Those...those things you risked all of us to save will kill you. They’ll tear you apart and eat you.”

  Glassick shook his head, chirping wildly.

  “They aren’t going to be like you.” He straightened and pointed to the enclosure filled with Brush-Men. “When they hatch, they’ll be like them. Them!” That little shit had put them all in danger to save something that wouldn’t think twice about killing each and every one of them.

  Glassick raced up Charlie’s body and slapped his cheek, pointing to the cabinet where McBrid housed his experiments.

  “What? You want me to take you over there?”

  Glassick nodded, raising his right hand.

  Charlie shrugged and carried the Brush-Man across the room. Glassick chirped louder and the Guard gently deposited him on the cabinet.

  Glassick ran to the formula McBrid had been working on, pointing to it and then the eggs.

  “He wants you to use that to make them like him.” Charlie almost jumped for joy.

  “I can’t.”

  Glassick chirped non-stop.

  “Why not? I know you’ve been working on the poison, trying to make it less bad.”

  “Yes, but you don’t understand.”

  Charlie looked at Glassick and then back at McBrid. “It seems simple enough. You dump that on the eggs and the ones who hatch will be like him.” He pointed to his little friend.

  “Eventually. Maybe. But the first few drafts of these serums don’t work well. They take refinement.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that most or maybe all of the eggs will die.” Or they might be cursed like Glassick with their insides growing too large for their skin.

  Glassick’s chirp died on a soft whistle.

  “Are you sure? You said you thought it might work,” said Charlie.

  “I’ve never created any serum that was perfect the first time.”

  “But this one might be?”

  “Unlikely.”

  “But you’re not positive.”

  “No. I have no idea how it will actually work. It may not kill them. It may kill them all. It may not even alter them. They could still be like the others.” He nodded at the cage.

  Glassick took a deep breath, touched the vial of poison and nodded.

  “He’s willing to take that chance.”

  “Well, I’m not.” Now, came the hard part. “Glassick, you may want to sit.”

  The Brush-Man looked from one to the other.

  “This isn’t easy.”

  “What’s wrong?” Charlie’s face had turned ashen.

  “You know that I’ve also been comparing Glassick’s DNA to the DNA from the others.”

  “Yeah.” The Guard lowered his hand and Glassick crawled onto his palm. “You were going to find a way to fix him. Make him better.”

  “I was.” He took a deep breath. “I tried but...”

  “Don’t say it.”

  “I’m sorry. His organs are continuing to grow but his skin and body isn’t.”

  “You have to do something.”

  “There’s nothing I can do except give him something to ease the pain when it gets to be too much.” He bent again. “I’m sorry, Glassick. I truly am and that’s why I can’t do this to more of you.” He looked at the Brush-Men in the cage. “Or even them.”

  “There has to be something you can do.” Charlie’s voice cracked. “The big ones, the original ones, they grew normal. You said Glassick had a lot of their DNA.”

  “And he does. I think that’s how he understands us, but their DNA and his are similar but not the same. The poison altered him.”

  “Then alter him again.”

  “I’m sorry. It isn’t possible.” He bent so he could get a better view of the little Brush-Man. “The hatchlings won’t be like you.”

  Glassick stared down at Charlie’s pant leg, tears in his bright blue eyes.

  “What are we going to do with them?” Charlie’s gaze went to the cage. “We can’t go in there. Not yet.”

  “I know.” That poison was extremely toxic. “I guess we’ll put them inside the enclosure after the poison wanes. It’s the best chance they have. We can’t drop them in with the larger ones. If they survive the fall, the Brush-Men will eat them.”

  “Where are we going to put them until then? If they hatch...” Charlie stared at his pant leg as if they were already swarming over him.

  “There’s a metal container in the closet. It’s about three inches long and half as tall.”

  “It has a lid, right?” Charlie headed across the room.

  “And a lock. The key is in it. Bring it out here and we’ll fill it with dirt.”

  Glassick looked up at him.

  “If we want them to survive, they need to be buried.”

  Glassick frowned, staring at the vial of poison.

  “I’ll keep working on it.” As long as he wasn’t fed to a monster.

  Charlie returned with the metal box and an almost empty bag of soil from when Scottsmoor’s Guards had replanted. He dumped it into the container and placed Glassick inside.

  McBrid wanted to laugh at Charlie’s face as he bent, pulling out egg sack after egg sack and setting them next to the Brush-Man.

  “Dang Glassick, how many did you dig up?”

  Glassick chirped as he ran around positioning the egg sacks.

  “I’m going to go get Louis to help you.” McBrid headed for the door. “After you’re done, I want you, your brother and Glassick to go to the Aranea lab. Wait there. If I’m not back before night, turn Fersia loose and leave.”

  “Turn her loose?” Charlie’s eyes were wide.

  “She’ll help you get out of the lab.” She’d never make it but the two Guards might if she were loose. “Once you’re free, go to my father’s house. Warn him and my uncle. Tell them that I’m gone and that all of you need to hide.”

  “McBrid, let’s go now.”

  “No. I can’t have Conguise finding out about Fersia or Glassick. I need to modify my files.” Deleting them would raise a red flag, but hopefully, if he edited them no one would notice until it was too late to get the original data from backup. They didn’t keep any files more than a few weeks. The information could get everyone who worked there executed.

  CHAPTER 31: McBrid

  McBrid had just started modifying the files on the Aranea project when the knock came.
Fersia dropped from the ceiling and hurried to the front of her cage. He’d filled her in on what might be happening.

  She tapped the lock with her sharp claw.

  He shook his head and whispered, “We’d never make it out of here with Charlie and Louis.” He’d like to change more files, but the time had come.

  “Sir, open the door, please.” The Guard, who sounded like Laddie, knocked on the door again.

  “Coming.” He moved to the cage. “Help Charlie and Louis if you can.”

  Fersia reached out and touched his face. Her claw cool and her bristles soft.

  “I’m sorry...about everything.” He glanced at the young male Servant who was almost done with his metamorphosis. “I think you’ll like him.”

  Fersia caressed his cheek before moving her leg to her fang and catching a small drop of poison. She held it out to him.

  “That’s an excellent idea.” He hurried to the counter and slipped on a clear glove. By studying the venom he’d captured from the previous Aranea he’d discovered that even a small amount could be harmful, deadly if ingested.

  “Sir, please,” said Laddie.

  “Give me one more minute.” He walked to the cage and held his gloved hand under her fang, letting the venom drip onto it. He clenched his fist, smearing the toxin all over his palm. “Thank you. If nothing else, maybe, I can take Conguise with me.”

  He turned and left, keeping his gloved hand close to his leg as he opened the door.

  “Sir.” Laddie looked nervous. “Professor Conguise sent me to get you.”

  “Why?” He’d play dumb. They all knew that when the professor sent Guards to retrieve someone, it wasn’t good. He glanced down the hallway. Laddie was the only one here. Not that the Guard wasn’t formidable, but usually the professor sent a team.

  “I-I don’t know, sir.” Laddie wouldn’t look at him. “I’m sorry, sir. You’re one of the good ones.”

  “It’s okay, Laddie.” He patted the Guard’s shoulder with his non-toxic hand. “We all must answer for our actions. Looks like today is my turn.” He turned, sending one last look at Fersia—one of the many lives he’d ruined—before closing and locking the door.

  He followed Laddie down the hall. In a lot of ways, he deserved this. It was the fate he’d dealt to many Servants and Guards. He wasn’t ready to die, but if he could take Conguise with him, his death would mean something. He might even save some of the poison for himself. It’d be better than being torn apart by Cold Creepers or one of the other monsters—no, not monsters, innocents they’d mutated.

  Laddie stopped at the door to Professor Conguise’s office. “Sorry again, sir.”

  McBrid nodded and knocked.

  “Come in,” said Conguise.

  He stepped inside, sorry that the professor’s cold stilted tones would be the last thing he’d hear. Who was he kidding? The last thing he’d hear was either his own screams or the sound of beasts feeding on him.

  “Close the door and have a seat.” Conguise was sitting behind his desk.

  He did as commanded, very aware of the hand at his side, his only weapon. This was almost like his weekly meetings—same office, same players in the same positions—but they both knew this was different.

  “Scottsmoor came to see me,” said Conguise.

  “Did he?” The real question was what did the other scientist say.

  “Yes.” Conguise’s hard blue eyes studied him, but McBrid showed no emotion.

  He may still get out of this alive.

  “You don’t seem surprised.”

  “I’m cautious.” That was the truth.

  “Wise.” The corner of Conguise’s lips turned up in a slight grin.

  “I believe so.”

  The professor’s slight smile disappeared. McBrid rubbed his gloved fingers across his palm. The man thought he was the only smart one. The professor would be surprised.

  “Scottsmoor admitted that he withheld pertinent information regarding the Phasmatodeas.” Conguise slid files across the table. “Everything he left out is in here.”

  McBrid picked it up. “Thank you.” He waited a moment. When the professor remained silent, he stood.

  “We’re not finished.” The professor’s tone was cold and clipped.

  He sat back down. “Sorry.” But the professor might be sorrier. All he had to do was touch the man. At the least, Conguise would be violently ill and at the best, dead.

  “Scottsmoor also said that he may have misled you about not live feeding.”

  “Perhaps, but it was still my decision. I’m not Scottsmoor’s lackey.” Being perceived as too stupid to make his own decisions was as deadly as feeding the specimens meat.

  Conguise’s eyes widened a fraction in surprise. The professor’s arrogance always made him misjudge his opponent’s abilities. He’d never labeled it before, but opponents were exactly what they’d become.

  “You’re aware that I’m against anything but live feeding.”

  “I am.” There was no reason to lie. Everyone knew this.

  “Then, why did you follow Scottsmoor’s suggestion?”

  “Efficiency.” He paused, letting his mind work through his lie. “It was faster to give the Phasmatodeas little hunks of meat than an entire Servant.”

  “They tear through a Servant in no time.”

  “Not the smaller ones. I had them separated, remember?” He shouldn’t have said that part. This was not the time to question Conguise.

  “Of course, I remember. I remember everything.”

  If that didn’t scream, warning, warning, nothing did.

  “Now that the Phasmatodeas are together again, I’ll resume the live feedings.” For as long as he had to. He had no doubt that Conguise would be watching him closely.

  “Have you been feeding meat to any of your other projects?”

  Here was the trap. He had no idea how much the professor knew. “I have.” Best to lie a little to create confusion, than to lie a lot and get caught.

  “Is there a valid reason?”

  “Aranea19 would not eat. I tried everything else. Giving her meat was the last resort.”

  “Hmm. I wasn’t aware that you were feeding her that way too.” The professor’s long fingers tapped on the desk. “Have you tried giving her Servants or Guards lately?”

  “Yes.” He lied. “The only live food she’ll take are the male Araneas.”

  “After she mates, correct?”

  “Yes. She always mates first.” He lied again.

  Fersia didn’t allow them near her. Every time he opened the glass, she attacked and killed the male. He truly hoped, for both her and Cal, that she’d let him live. The kid had been dealt a bad hand in life. This was the only chance at health and happiness Cal would ever have.

  “Hmm. Continue trying.” Conguise’s fingers stilled on the desk.

  “And continue feeding her the meat, correct?” He would anyway.

  “Of course. Although there’s nothing wrong with letting her get hungry, don’t starve her.”

  He tipped his head. He’d never do that.

  He waited and the professor studied him for a long moment.

  “I’d like you to take over the training of Gruder.”

  “Me?” That was going to be a problem, a huge problem.

  “Yes. Scottsmoor has made some mistakes lately. Mistakes I don’t want the new scientist duplicating.”

  “Of course.” Looked like Scottsmoor was in trouble now, not him.

  “Come by my office at four this afternoon and I’ll introduce the two of you.”

  “We’ve already met.” It slipped out.

  “You have?”

  “Yes, I was looking for Scottsmoor to ask him about his notes.” No reason to lie about that.

  “Good. Then no need for the introduction.”

  “As you wish.” He didn’t want to be anywhere near the professor. Every meeting was a dangerous dance of truth and deceit.

  “I’ll see you next week
for our regular meeting.” Conguise turned to his computer.

  “Of course.” He stood, squeezing his gloved hand into a fist. He still wanted to smear it across Conguise’s face. He would if he knew for sure it’d kill the other Almighty, but since that wasn’t a guarantee, he headed to the door instead.

  As soon as he was in the hallway, he pulled off the glove, turning it inside out and stuffing it into his pocket as he hurried to give Louis and Charlie the good news.

  CHAPTER 31: McBrid

  McBrid yawned as he stretched. It was late and it’d been a very long day. After telling Charlie and Louis that Conguise wasn’t about to kill him, he’d spent the rest of the day modifying files. Today had been a close call and he wasn’t about to leave any trace of the secrets he’d discovered with Fersia and Glassick.

  He’d finished in the Aranea lab several hours ago. He still had a few minor changes to make to the Brush-Men data, but it could wait for tomorrow. He was beyond exhausted but he’d promised his father and uncle that he’d stop by for dinner one day this week and the week was almost over.

  “Charlie, are you about done?”

  The Guard was wiping down the counters, again. Louis had left over an hour ago.

  “Almost. You can go. No need to wait for me.”

  “Nonsense. You’re done. The lab is clean enough.” It was almost sparkling. “Go get something to eat before the cafeteria closes.”

  “Nah. I don’t want to leave the job unfinished.”

  Charlie was a lot of things—kind, funny, loyal—but he never stayed late unless he had to.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” The Guard wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  “Come on. Let’s go.” He stood. “I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to go home and get some sleep.”

  “Ah...yeah. You go. I’ll leave in a minute.”

  Glassick peeked through Charlie’s hair.

  “I thought you put him away.” The kid had pretended to put the Brush-Man to bed before Louis had left.

  “Who?” Charlie’s eyes were huge and Glassick ducked into the Guard’s hair.

  “I saw him.” He was going to thrash the kid.

  “He doesn’t want to be alone. He’s scared. Anyone could come by.”