Olento Research Series Boxed Set: A Paranormal Science Fiction Thriller

by Sarah Noffke

  “I have to go out and find him,” Zephyr said.

  “Yes, but where are you going to look, is the question,” Adelaide said, still off in thought.

  “That I don’t know,” he said, his voice also distant and eyes staring off.

  “Portland is his hometown,” Rox offered.

  “We need more than that,” Adelaide said. “What we need—”

  Her words stopped abruptly. Rox, Zephyr, and Adelaide both shot their heads to the corner of the room where one of the conference room chairs had suddenly appeared. It seemed to pop up out of nowhere.

  “Was that just there?” Rox said, pointing at the chair.

  “It was not,” Kaleb said, a hint of a laugh in his voice.

  “Where did it come from?” Zephyr said.

  “Beats me,” Kaleb said, covering his mouth.

  Adelaide turned to Kaleb. “Did you do that?”

  He didn’t answer, but just chuckled. Then he disappeared and reappeared at the other end of the table.

  “For fuck sake! Did you just teleport?” Adelaide said, bolting to a standing position.

  “Nope,” he said, now overcome with laughter. The moving of the chair and him changing positions appeared like telekinesis or teleportation. But that didn’t seem right. He’d done more than move something with his mind, he’d moved himself. But teleporting couldn’t be Kaleb’s skill. It was too complex.

  “All right, Dog Bone. Pony up, what’s going on?” Adelaide said.

  Kaleb only shook his head with a wide grin. Adelaide was about to reprimand him when Trent shot into the conference room, his focus on the redhead. “Hey! She’s back in action! We’ve got eyes on the future again,” he said, his voice vibrating with excitement.

  A huge and rare smile sprung to Adelaide’s mouth. “Great! And just in time,” she said, making for the exit.

  “Who are you talking about? What does that all mean?” Rox said, her head to the side and confusion creasing her forehead.

  “It means that I now know how we’re going to find Connor and the rest of the pack. We’ve got our best news reporter back,” Adelaide said, following Trent out of the room at once.

  Chapter Three

  “CRISPR (clustered regularly interspaced short palindromic repeats) genome editing was employed to splice wolf DNA into the subjects. This created a coevolution in both the host and the viral genome, making both stronger.”

  - Olento Research, Canis Lupus Project File

  The paint was peeling off the walls in the break room of the Lizard Lounge. It had probably been peeling off the pale green walls for a while. And Rio Hernandez had no idea why he was even slouching in the corner of the room. It wasn’t like he needed a break. All he did was stand around, and his job as a bouncer for the shady club was easy enough. He’d never had such an easy job. Usually he just growled at a patron being rejected entry and they ran for the streets. And fights were never a problem for him to break up. He’d always been strong, with wide biceps and a barrel chest, but whatever they did to him in that lab made him incredibly powerful. He’d punched through concrete walls to escape that prison. And since the breakout from the lab he’d tested that strength. For an hour he practiced his superpower by throwing cars in a junkyard. The homeless men who watched and cheered him on had found the whole show funny. Good thing the bourbon later made them forget what they saw.

  Rio’s time on the police force had educated him to the troublesome types. He could spot them from ten yards away, standing in the line for the club. And although the job as the bouncer only reminded him of why he’d quit the force, it was one of the few jobs he could find where they’d pay him under the table. He knew better than to use his old bank accounts or return to his old house, which had been inherited by his sister.

  Still, he had returned to his hometown of San Diego, keeping his head down when a police officer strolled by him on the streets. Although he didn’t think most would recognize him since he’d grown out his black curly hair, he didn’t want to risk it. Leaving the force had been hard enough, and then he had just disappeared, it seemed. In actuality he’d been abducted one evening while walking home from a baseball game he’d umpired. And although he didn’t remember much from his time at the lab, he did remember breaking through the wall and escaping. It was the most exhilarating moment of his life. Even better than when he wrestled down that thief in Mission Bay.

  It was that thief that started the fast end of his career on the force. What had started as a prideful moment of victory quickly turned into a hairball of problems. The thief’s defense attorney later lodged a case against Rio, saying he used unnecessary force to subdue the defendant. Rather than fight the charges, Rio simply turned in his badge and gun. He’d been looking for a reason to quit the force, feeling the unending doom of constantly stopping bad guys. It made him overly cynical having to spend his time inside the heads of criminals. And again, as a bouncer for the club, he found himself too often in the company of worthless hoodlums. But the money paid for the room he rented and the job also gave him access to gamblers who ponied up their easy-earned cash to arm wrestle Rio. He never lost a round, which actually only increased the lineup. Everyone wanted a chance to try and beat the man with iron arms.

  Rio took in a long breath, letting his head fall forward. He wasn’t tired, but he wished he was as he stared down at the dirty floor of the break room. Actually, he wished he could sleep, but more and more the dreams plagued him. They were so real, like a direct product of his current thoughts. That didn’t feel natural. Nothing about Rio felt natural anymore, especially the werewolf that broke out of him every week. He didn’t know how to control the beast, and he was already certain he’d been spotted sprinting through the streets as a werewolf. The only thing that he was grateful for was that he hadn’t hurt anyone yet. That wouldn’t last long though. He found that if he kept a supply of red meat on hand during the change, it satisfied the wolf’s hunger, but soon the werewolf would want warm flesh, with the blood still beating. Rio knew that, because he could feel the wolf inside him, longing for more. Always hungry for more.

  Chapter Four

  “Through the process of drugs intended to strengthen the parietal lobe, neural feedback, meditation, and a technique called ‘dream synthesizing,’ Middlings can be converted into Dream Travelers. This research was part of what was stolen from the Lucidites by Olento Research.”

  - Lucidite Institute, Werewolf Project File

  “You wanted to see me, sir?” Grant said, coming to a halt in front of Mika’s desk and offering a sharp salute.

  The CEO of Olento Research merely raised the corner of his lip, as he pretended to scan the file in front of him. He’d been over the updated Canis Lupus Project file a dozen times. Drake had pulled through and delivered a method that should in theory be successful. However, the scientist had been correct in his assumption and it appeared from the research that the new werewolf conversion would have lethal ramifications for the subject. Disfigurement was one of them. Heart failure was another.

  After several seconds, Mika lowered the file and blinked at Grant. He was in his usual black uniform, which matched his black flattop. “Grant, although you’ve continued to put in effort to locate the werewolves, that can’t excuse the numerous failures on your record.”

  Grant’s mouth tightened, bringing lines to his pale lips. “I know, sir. I fully accept responsibility and if you’d just give me another chance.”

  “I do plan on giving you one more chance,” Mika said, drumming his fingers on the surface of his desk.

  “You do?” Grant’s eyes widened with relief. “Thank you, sir. I promise I won’t let you down. No one wants to see those werewolves returned to Olento Research more than me.”

  “I don’t believe you invested a sizable amount of funds into their creation, did you?” Mika said, his tone condescending.

  “Well, no sir. Of course you have the largest interests in having the werewolves returned. I only meant—�
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  “I have no desire to have you clarify what you meant,” Mika said, cutting off his director of security.

  “Of course, sir,” Grant said, standing taller. “Where would you like me to focus my efforts on locating the werewolves? Are there new sightings or reports on one of the subjects?”

  Grant knew that Mika was not one to empower through autonomy. That’s why he always asked Mika for specific instructions, knowing he preferred to oversee all aspects of all projects at both Olento and Parantaa Research. This meant that Mika worked nonstop, but his skill as a Dream Traveler allowed him to utilize nighttime hours.

  “Grant, I am giving you another chance to redeem yourself with this case, but we first need to be honest. Do you firmly believe that you, a simple Middling man, can capture a dozen werewolves?” Mika said.

  “Well, sir, I do have my team and we’re learning more of the pack’s behavior and tendencies—”

  With a shake of his head, Mika cut Grant off. “When not changed, these men are faster than any human, have amplified senses, and the instincts of a ferocious animal. And when in werewolf form, all of these traits are increased and they also have deadly fangs and claws. Do you think you really stand a chance at capturing the werewolves?” Mika said.

  “I hear what you’re saying, but sir, I have to believe that I can do this. Otherwise—”

  “Otherwise you’re zero use to Olento Research and might as well find employment somewhere else,” Mika said, again interrupting his employee.

  “And you know that is the last thing I want,” Grant said.

  “I do know that. What you lack in intelligence and competence you do make up for with loyalty,” Mika said, pushing out from his desk and casually crossing his legs in front of him.

  “Thank you, sir,” Grant said, smiling nervously.

  “It is because of this loyalty that I’ve decided to offer you an opportunity. I’m going to give you a chance to volunteer yourself for a new experiment. As a man, you are ineffective on this case. However, as a werewolf, I think you stand a chance of actually bringing these men back to Olento Research,” Mika said, watching as the tiny muscles in Grant’s face flinched from the news.

  “Uhhh… Although I’m honored… That seems like a great opportunity… However…” Grant stuttered through a round of unfinished sentences.

  “You don’t want to undergo conversion?” Mika said, raising a sharp eyebrow at him.

  “No, it’s not that. It’s just sudden news to digest. I think your logic is sound though. If Olento Research converts me and a few members of my team then—”

  “It would only be you,” Mika said, interrupting.

  “Me? But I’m not sure if I’ll be a match for the werewolves if I’m cornered by more than one,” Grant said, fear now creating creases by his eyes.

  “Which is why I’ve had Drake innovate the process. Olento Research is going to make you into a werewolf that is stronger, faster, and larger than the current pack. That’s the reason that I’m authorizing for only you to be converted. Olento Research can’t risk funds and resources converting another batch of men. I need my werewolves back, and I need you to bring them in for me,” Mika said, now taking a standing position, putting him an inch higher than Grant.

  “Sir,” Grant said, “I’m grateful for this opportunity and again, I think you’ve found a solution that will finally work, but…”

  Mika half smiled, realizing he had Grant where he wanted him. “Yes, and because you are submitting to the project willingly, then your conversion should be much faster. You will simultaneously be converted to Dream Traveler and werewolf. We’ve also found a way to program a heightened tracking instinct in you, which will make locating the werewolves easier. I want you to go straight to Drake’s lab where this will start immediately,” Mika said, pointing at the door and telekinetically opening it with his mind. “We are done here.”

  Sudden doubt overwhelmed Grant’s features before he regained his composure. “Of course, sir,” he said, offering a final salute to his boss.

  Chapter Five

  “Zephyr Flournoy – Age: Twenty-five. Height: Six foot, zero inches. Weight: One hundred seventy-five pounds. Hair: Black/Silver. Eyes: Gray. Ethnicity: White. Employment: Discharged Special Forces Captain. Skill: Controls wind. Rank: Alpha Wolf.”

  - Olento Research, Canis Lupus Project File

  “So you don’t really like me, do you?” Rox said, strolling beside Zephyr through the Institute corridor.

  “Is it that obvious?” Zephyr said, his face impassive and his eyes on the open door up head. Aiden had asked that he come by the lab again for more testing and Rox was accompanying him because lately that’s what she did. She was always at his side, one way or another. Even when she didn’t randomly show up to review case files, he sought her out, inventing a reason why he’d called for her attention. This time he’d told her that Aiden needed a control study, but it didn’t have to be her that offered a blood sample. The head scientist had even said that he’d provide it himself, but Zephyr had waved him off, saying that the researcher shouldn’t have to do the work and also offer up his own blood.

  “Before when you were explaining how the wolf creates impulses in you, even when you’re not changed…” Rox trailed away, a coy smile on her face. She loved games, Zephyr had learned. And although he’d avoided this kind of troublesome playfulness in the past, it somehow appealed to him now. Or maybe it appealed to the wolf, like a game of fetch.

  Zephyr paused, turning to face Rox. “You think that whatever it is that may or may not be going on between you and me is a result of the strange impulses? Is that right?”

  She regarded him behind her long, black eyelashes, an amused look on her face. “I think you have zero idea. How could you? Where does Zephyr end and the wolf begin? You’re not you anymore, but rather a conglomeration of a Dream Traveler, a wolf, and the remnants of a ghost named Zephyr.”

  “Sometimes when you talk, I want to kill myself,” he said, continuing the trek down the blue carpeted hallway.

  “I’m right, though, aren’t I?” Rox said at his back, not having moved from her spot.

  He turned and faced her again, not really seeing the girl in front of him, only hearing her words for a moment prior trail through his head. She was right. Too often Rox, who looked like a plastic Barbie doll, made observations that startled him to his core. Zephyr shook off his frustration with a toss of his head. “Maybe. Maybe you’re right,” he said, his eyes swiveling up to the figure approaching at Rox’s back. From ten feet away, Adelaide offered him an unwelcoming scowl.

  “Go get your vet checkup, Zeppy,” she called from down the hallway. “I’m fairly certain I’ll have a mission for you and Lipstick real soon.”

  Adelaide tapped the button for the department space labeled “Panther.” Usually those who weren’t news reporters weren’t allowed in that space, which was always quiet, with the purplish lights on dim. Adelaide had been one of the few outsiders to witness the space where the team of clairvoyants collected future events of importance. This was because Ren Lewis didn’t abide by rules, and often she followed him, watching and observing as he strong-armed the news reporters. Usually they were encouraged to only observe whatever future event occurred to them naturally during their sessions, but Adelaide’s father always found this to be a haphazard approach and pushed the news reporting department to focus their efforts. Too often he could be found bullying a misty-eyed clairvoyant into honing their attention on a specific person or event. This was one reason that his department had been so successful during his reign. And it was one reason that the department was currently failing. Adelaide’s new boss, Trent Reynolds, didn’t have the same authority as Ren, meaning that the eyes and ears of the Institute were usually blind. However, one of the best news reporters had just returned from maternity leave and Adelaide wasn’t going to allow a bit of insubordination to stop her from gaining information.

  Stomping through the quiet departmen
t space, Adelaide didn’t come to a halt until she spotted the person she was looking for. There, lying in a reclining chair, was a girl of about her age, her blonde hair draped over her relaxed shoulders. Above the chair shone the purplish light, which was intended to induce a calming atmosphere. In three steps, Adelaide sidled up next to the seat where the girl lay, her ears covered with sound-canceling headphones. With a sneaky grin hiding on her face, Adelaide slammed her palm straight down on the side of the leather upholstered chair, sending the girl bolting into an upright position. Roya yanked the headphones off her head, staring around like an earthquake was assaulting the Institute. Fear receded into frustration when the clairvoyant found Adelaide standing beside her, arms crossed.

  “Have you lost your damn mind?” Roya said, her face flushing with anger.

  “Eons ago. And good, I’m glad you’re awake. I need your attention on something,” Adelaide said. “Actually, I need your attention on a lot of things, so clear your schedule.”

  “I don’t work for you or the strategic department,” Roya said, swinging her legs over the side of the chair, pinning her arms beside her. One thing that Adelaide always appreciated about this snotty American girl was that she didn’t do pretenses. You always knew what Roya was thinking and it was hardly ever pleasant. However, her skill as a clairvoyant was unmatched and her reports were never wrong. It was because of the future events Roya saw that most people on the globe were still alive. And now Adelaide was going to employ this reliable skill for her own purposes.

  “You work for the Institute and so do I. Therefore, I need you to focus your clairvoyance on finding a series of people for me,” Adelaide said, remembering what her father had always told her. Don’t ask people to do things. Tell them. And NEVER allow them to believe they are doing you a favor.