Olento Research Series Boxed Set: A Paranormal Science Fiction Thriller

by Sarah Noffke

  “New report. You said you had one. Or did you just need someone to tolerate your bad attitude for a bit and this was all a ruse to get social attention?” Adelaide said.

  The ache of losing Ren was still carved into Adelaide’s face, Roya observed. She almost wanted to feel sorry for Adelaide when she spied the deep pain in the bottom of her stare. No matter what the girl said, it was still there. Roya had been in a similar position as Adelaide. She had a father who was distant, one who sacrificed himself and his family for the world. It’s an unpleasant thing to digest.

  “I located Connor in a vision,” Roya said.

  “Where is he? I’ll send the team there. Just give me the timestamp and location,” Adelaide said, her voice suddenly neutral, her approach calm.

  “He’s in Portland, at a carnival. Here’s the exact location and timeframe where he can be found,” Roya said, holding out a piece of paper. She was the only news reporter who could hone in on such specific details when spying events of the future. It was her gift to the Institute and her burden to herself. Never did the girl feel that she could work enough, see enough. She always felt that she should be reporting, finding cases where the Lucidites could make a difference. But she also needed to have a life, one outside of news reporting.

  Adelaide took the paper but paused. “What aren’t you telling me?” she said, and she must have read the look in Roya’s eyes, since she hadn’t touched her. Roya was one of the few who knew that Adelaide had inherited her father’s gift of telepathy linked to touch. If anyone understood Roya’s burden of news reporting, it was Adelaide, who also had a gift that felt more like a curse.

  “He’s in bad shape. What he’s done to himself is pretty severe,” Roya said.

  Adelaide’s eyes fell to the ground, a dark place in her seeming to open up and understand the possibilities at once. “Okay, I’ll get my team out there immediately to rescue him,” she said, turning back for Aiden’s lab. Then she turned back. “Is he going to live?”

  Roya shook her head, seeing the vision, the drugs, witnessing his pain when his body tried to change into the werewolf but couldn’t, too deprived. “I don’t know,” she said in a hush.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “The first werewolf change happened six weeks after conversion. The subjects only half changed. Sharp hairs pushed through the pores of their forearms and backs of their hands and aggressive behavior was documented.”

  - Olento Research, Canis Lupus Project File

  Kris waited until the group filed out of Aiden’s lab before heading down the hallway in the opposite direction. The werewolf with silver and black hair and the blonde were sent off to rescue Connor. And now she knew the location for where to find the lost werewolf, which according to Adelaide’s report, was slightly under the weather. Something about the redhead’s face betrayed her words. If Kris’s suspicions were correct then something extremely wrong was going on with the werewolf who had run away. She’d wished she’d followed Adelaide out when she spoke with Roya, then she would have known for certain what Adelaide was hiding now.

  Rio, the newest recruit, had argued that he should go on the rescue mission, but was quickly turned down.

  “You don’t know how to use a GAD-C, Rover,” Adelaide informed him.

  “What’s that?” the meathead said.

  “A form of Dream Traveler transportation that allows us to generate our body wherever our consciousness has dream traveled to, granted that it lands on another GAD-C. They are devices that the Institute has built around the country for easy transport, but using them takes an orientation or otherwise your ears could end up on our feet,” Aiden, the scientist in the lab coat, said.

  “I’ll wait for a proper orientation,” Rio said, looking appeased but disappointed.

  Kris removed her cell phone when she was around the hallway, hoping she could duck into an empty room to make the call. It still amazed her that when she was invisible, her clothes were invisible, anything on her took on that trait. How it was possible was beyond her, but she was currently on a case to recapture werewolves and steal information on teleportation, so she wasn’t sure which reality was stranger.

  The quick high she’d gained when learning the newest piece of information plummeted when Kris spied the reception meter on her phone. Zero. None. Not even one bar. However, she was in an underwater facility, so why was she that surprised. She looked around the empty hallway, doubtful there were regular phones stationed around the place. The Lucidites would have their own form of communication, probably holograms they sent. Geez, these people could teleport their bodies using a machine called a GAD-C. They were making Mika look like a two-bit small business man. But now she realized why he’d ordered her to infiltrate the organization and steal covert information. He’d be very pleased to hear about this GAD-C business and also the location of one of his missing werewolves.

  The sun was a welcome presence to Kris when she exited the submarine after a courier delivery guy. Good thing the Lucidite Institute had two trips out a day due to the delivery schedule, or Kris would have been stuck there without a way to contact Mika.

  She withdrew her cell phone from her jacket once she was a safe distance from any people. Disembodied voices always seemed to freak others out, she’d found. To her relief she had full reception. And also to her excitement, Mika answered on the first ring.

  “What?” he said, using his usual warm greeting for her.

  “I’ve been in the Institute and learned a lot of valuable information,” Kris said.

  “Which is why you’re calling. Start with the most pertinent piece of information,” Mika said. He actually had a nice voice, if he wasn’t always so pissy all the time. Actually the man himself, with his black hair and chiseled features, was quite attractive, although too old for Kris. She’d guessed he was approaching forty. Still, she enjoyed staring at a well-dressed man who displayed power like it was inborn in his soul. The problem with Mika was she didn’t think he had a soul, which was a problem for her since she’d always wanted to be married in a church.

  “Connor left the Institute and is currently in the back of a semi in Portland. He’s working for Ferocity Carnival,” Kris said.

  Mika didn’t hoot with excitement, like she’d strangely hoped. She needed to get sleep, she realized at once. This spy job made sleeping a challenge. Eating too. “You learned this spying at the Institute, didn’t you?” he said, an angry edge to his voice.

  “Well, yeah,” she said and then released a nervous giggle.

  “And let me guess, the Lucidites have already sent someone to fetch Connor,” Mika said.

  “Yes, but now you can send someone. Beat them there,” Kris said. Why isn’t he more excited? she thought.

  “Kris, I am aware that the Lucidite Institute is underwater, and that informs me that you don’t have cell service there. Consequently, I’m going to assume that you had to travel out of the Institute to make this call, is that correct?” he said.

  “Well, yes, and I agree that the extra efforts I’ve had to go to should be rewarded. I love diamonds and cash,” she said.

  “And while you were taking the trip to the surface, you realize that the Lucidites are already well on their way to retrieve Connor?” Mika said.

  “Oh, actually they are probably already there now that I think about it. I learned that they have this device called a GAD-C that allows them to dream travel to a location and then generate their body, but only if they travel to the location of another one of those devices. So it’s pretty much like teleporting, but with restrictions. Pretty cool, huh?” Kris said. Mika had to be happy about learning this information, right? she hoped.

  “That’s not as cool as you think,” Mika said, his voice bordering on hostile. “You do realize that you were sent to the Institute to gain information on how to teleport one’s body using psychic power, correct?”

  “But if you could build a device like theirs—”

  “Yes, but as you’ve previou
sly mentioned, there are restrictions to that type of teleporting,” Mika said, cutting Kris off. He was always doing that. His mother obviously didn’t teach him any manners.

  “Okay, I’m still looking for clues on where to find teleporting information,” Kris said, her spirits utterly deflated.

  “And yes, if you can find the blueprints for the GAD-C, then get them. Take pictures of everything with your phone. I want as many details as possible,” Mika said.

  “And if you knew my phone wouldn’t work in the Institute then why didn’t you tell me or build me one that had super reception?” Kris said, not caring that this would piss him off further. He was already livid; it was kind of cute.

  “Your job is not to check in with me when you find out every piece of information. Learn as much as you can and don’t return to Olento Research until you have information on teleporting. That’s your job. You don’t need a special phone for that, you need dedication,” Mika said and ended the call.

  She had kept thinking he’d come to appreciate her and her sassy attitude, that she’d soften him somehow, but maybe that was too lofty of a dream. Mika didn’t care about anyone but himself and appreciated nothing but perfection. Kris stared down at her invisible body and smiled. She thought she was pretty perfect just the way she was.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “The second werewolf sighting happened in Salt Lake City.”

  - Lucidite Institute, Werewolf Project File

  “One hundred and three,” the nurse said, pulling the thermometer from Orion’s mouth.

  “Do I have an infection?” Orion said, staring at his bandaged hand. The piercing, overwhelming pain was more of a nagging throb now, thanks to a shot of morphine. He hadn’t wanted to drag himself, bleeding and crying to the hospital, but then the sweating and vomiting set in and he had no choice. Actually he didn’t make it all the way to the hospital—he passed out on the sidewalk to the emergency room—but he knew from his previous employment as an orderly that this happened all the time. They kept surveillance on the walkways around hospitals for this reason.

  “I’m sure you do, but the doctor is going to have to be the judge of that. He will be in to see you in just a moment, as soon as he reviews your blood results,” the nurse said, making for the door.

  Blood results! Oh no, Orion thought. That’s right, when he’d been mostly out of it they’d withdrawn blood, right after stitching him up. Actually everything had gone wrong since the beginning. He’d given them his full name, which no doubt made it so they could pull up his medical history and probably log him into the system. But the pain, it had been too much. All Orion wanted was for it stop. The pain in his heart and head was battling to win against the raw ache in his bleeding hand. And they had so many questions for him. How had he lost his fingers? Did he have them so they could be restitched onto his hand? Did he have a next of kin they could call? The questions just made him retreat further and then he’d said it. The two things he wasn’t supposed to say.

  “My name is Orion Murray. They made me into a werewolf,” he remembered saying. The person withdrawing blood paused, but then only shook her head. The nurse tending to his bandages simply smiled.

  “You’re safe now, Orion,” she said, before turning around and exiting the room.

  And now they knew his name and had his blood results. It was going to get worse. Most assuredly it was going to get worse. The bad people would find out about this. Or maybe it was the government behind this that made him into a werewolf and he’d just walked right back into their waiting arms. Orion knew only one thing with certainty, so much so, it pressed the anxiety away. He had to get away.

  With his good hand he pulled the door back to find a sterile, empty hallway. To the right, he heard nurses conversing at a nearby station. He ducked his head down low and slid out into the hallway, tiptoeing down to the next corridor. His knowledge of hospitals told him the exit was up ahead, maybe just around another hallway.

  “Orion, is that you?” a voice he knew so well said.

  He turned to find the one person he couldn’t see right then staring back at him, her soft pink mouth gaping open. “Veronica,” he said, dropping his head with shame. He realized then he was cradling his hand, which had already bled a bit through the gauze and bandages. They’d said he’d need to stay overnight, but now he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

  “What did you do to yourself?” she said, and there was the pity. He wanted her to believe him. To believe in him. As his psychiatrist she knew him better than anyone else. She knew he wasn’t a liar. Maybe she’d believe him now.

  “I was trying to stop the werewolf,” he said. “I cut off my fingertips just when the claws came out and it worked. They are gone.” Orion held up his bandaged hand, like she could see how victorious he’d been. “Isn’t it great?” he said with a laugh that also resembled a weep.

  “Oh, Orion, you’re mutilating yourself again. We need to talk about committing you, getting you the help you need,” Dr. Roland said, taking a cautious step forward. “The hospital called me and I already set up arrangements on the way over here. You don’t have to stay for long, just until we get your medicine schedule back to normal. This is chemical. It’s not you. We can fix things.”

  She always knew the right thing to say. We. We can fix things. She was going to take care of him again, look in on him daily. They’d have their talks every afternoon like they used to. And when he had a bad night, threw things and yelled at the staff, she’d come by the next morning to make sure he was all right. Everything was going to be like it used to be. Everything was going to get better.

  Then he noticed how soft her skin was around her jaw. His eyes slid down her throat and then landed on her chest where two perfectly rounded shapes peeked slightly out of her navy blue blouse, begging for his full attention. Orion shook his head. He’d never looked at Veronica this way. Never felt this lustful draw to her. What they had was real and not based on physical attraction, although he hoped that would come for both of them later.

  He licked his lips, suddenly wanting to taste her. Needing to feast on her. The thought sent Orion back three steps until he knocked into a wall. That wasn’t him. It was the wolf. The wolf. That’s right. Things couldn’t be the same as when he was a resident of the mental institution. The werewolf would destroy all the good that came from being there.

  “Stay away from me!” Orion said, grabbing a gurney and launching it at Veronica. She slid to the side, shoving it away with a look of horror.

  “Orion, it’s okay. I’m here to help. Please let me help you,” she said, pushing her hands down in a calming way.

  “No! You can’t help me. No one can. I’m a monster and I’ll only hurt you,” he said, and backed to the side until he found the hallway wall. Behind him, down the corridor, he heard voices. Frantic voices that were aware of the commotion. The wolf heard them say things that angered it. Restrain. Stop. Sedate.

  Orion tore his focus back on Veronica, the woman he loved. The one he couldn’t have. She took another step toward him as the footsteps behind him grew louder. He swung his head in that direction to see two large men in scrubs headed his way. He knew what their jobs were. Without another hesitation he dashed toward Veronica, pushing her down hard when she reached for him. Then he sprinted for the exit, his hand now bleeding from knocking into something. Still he didn’t stop running. He had to get away. That was the only way to save the woman he craved, the one who would forever think he was crazy.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “The second time the werewolves changed, they exhibited fangs, claws, and hair growth. It is assumed that the fangs and the claws took time to grow in.”

  - Olento Research, Canis Lupus Project File

  The grass under Zephyr’s leather shoes was soggy. He had never liked carnivals. It was a place to lose money and get sick on sweet or fried food. Why any hard-working American would seek a thrill on a ride that was reconstructed at every carnival location, and
faulty in numerous ways, was beyond him. Most people wanted to die, he usually concluded. Why else did they eat the things they did or do the things that were most likely going to kill them? And yet, he loved people and found that his mission in life was to protect a population who was constantly seeking to destroy themselves.

  “You can’t come on Ferocity grounds. This is a closed area,” an overweight man said, hurrying over to them, buttoning his pants and fastening his belt as he did.

  Zephyr was about to make up a phony excuse when Rox flashed her badge. “FBI. We have business here,” she said and hurried past the man with the red nose.

  “If this is about the twins, I can explain. What they do away from Ferocity Carn—”

  “Where is Connor Luce?” Rox said, and Zephyr was distracted by her tone. She sounded different. Professional. She sounded unlike he’d heard her before. No one would look at her blonde hair and mounds of makeup and mistake her for a “valley girl,” as he often thought of her. She sounded like an FBI agent, and more than that, she had authority in those short words.

  “He’s…” the man said and trailed away. “What do you want with Connor? That’s who you’re here for?”

  “Where?” Rox said, her words clipped.

  “He’s in sleeper row. In one of those trailers,” the man said and pointed at a line of semis at the back of the carnival. They could barely be seen over the booths and rides, which were currently shut down since the carnival wasn’t set to open for another few hours.

  “Which one?” Zephyr said, striding forward, making his way to the area.

  “How am I supposed to know?” the man said, tugging up his pants as they made to fall to the ground.

  “Use your X-ray vision,” Rox said, still using that voice, the one that Zephyr enjoyed, respected.