Scratch

by Skye MacKinnon

  He’s guided us to an office block a couple of streets away from the Pack headquarters. We’re hiding in an alleyway while Ryker and his cats check out the area. Two security guards are guarding the entrance of the building that the man gestured to be the one we need to enter. One of them is human, but the other is an uncollared shifter. Curious. Usually, only a very select group of Pack shifters are seen as trustworthy enough to be without a collar, and all of them are too important to be guarding a building.

  The sun is setting and the shadows around us are growing. My favourite time of day. People are leaving their workplace, tired and eager to get home. They don’t look at suspicious things they may have noticed in the morning when they were more alert. Now, they couldn’t care less about what’s happening around them. Soon, the streets will be empty, with only a few stragglers who worked late. In other parts of town, this is the time when the pubs get busy and the first drunks start to stagger around, but not here. This area is nothing but one office building next to another. Utterly boring and depressing.

  While Lennox and Gryphon deal with the man’s corpse, I am crouched on the ground, my eyes closed, focusing on the scents and noises all around us. The people around us are all human, that security guard the only anomaly. Most of the humans smell exhausted. I wonder if I do, too. There is still a weight in my limbs that is keeping me from being at full strength.

  It shouldn't be hard to get into the building. All of us are good at climbing, and I'm sure we'll either find an open window or use the diamond saw I have stashed in my backpack. My instincts are telling me that we need to be careful though. I doubt these two men outside are their only security measures. I'm having trouble sensing the inside of the building, even though I should be able to from this distance. They must be using kholstone, a synthetic material that blocks shifter powers to a certain extent. Back at the Pack headquarters, they had some of the rooms clad in the stuff so that we couldn't hear what was going on inside, as well as the entire top floor where the leaders live. If they're using it here, that must mean that we're in the right place. They wouldn't bother using such an expensive material unless they had something to hide.

  Less and less people are leaving the building, most have long disappeared down the street by now. They'll be sitting at their dinner tables soon, maybe watching tv, talking about work, about how exhausted they are, how much they're looking forward to the weekend. I don't think I've ever had an actual weekend. I don't take off more than a day at a time. There are always people that need killing, and it's easiest to find them off guard when they're at home, relaxing.

  I sense Ryker return and open my eyes, watching him sneak towards us. Nobody is taking a second look at the cat. He may be gorgeous and big for his kind, but he's still just a cat in their eyes. Ignorant humans. Cats are so much more advanced than them in some aspects, but of course they'd never accept that. The arrogance of cats is only beaten by that of humans.

  "Have you found a way in?" I ask Ryker as soon as he's arrived. He nods, then meows. There's worry in the sound, but I don't quite understand what he's trying to say.

  "Are you worried they might be expecting us?"

  I feel his assent even before he bows his head.

  "Well, they don't know what's coming for them," I say grimly. "We're going to get the kittens and make sure that my clone is safe from them." I turn to Lennox. "How do you feel about a little arson?"

  He grins. "Thought you'd never ask."

  His boyish enthusiasm makes me smile. He's always loved blowing things up.

  "First, we need to find the kittens and get them out. Then we have to figure out what exactly they've been doing here. Take any interesting documents you come across. Once we're all done, we burn down the building. That should hopefully act as a blow against the Pack, even though it's not their headquarters. That will be a project for another day."

  I resist the urge to rub my hands like an evil villain who's scheming to take down the government. The Pack isn't quite in charge of the town, but they do pull enough strings to have more power than they should. Who knows how much they control.

  "What if the kittens aren't here?" Gryphon asks. I want to throw something at him.

  "Let's think positive," I retort. "One step at a time. Ryker, can you get your cats to start some kind of fight outside the building? That should distract the guards for at least a short while. Lennox, you sneak around and prepare everything to start a big fire."

  "Can it be an explosion?" he asks with a cheeky glint in his eyes."

  I chuckle. "Whatever you want. Drench the building in acid, for all I care, as long as it's destroyed once we leave. Gryphon, Ryker, you're with me. Together, we should be able to sense the kittens, and if not, Gryphon might be able to use his special skills to ask one of the employees where they're kept."

  The siren shoots me a warning glance, but he shouldn't worry, I'm not about to break my promise. His secret is safe with me.

  "What signal are we using for me to start the fire?" Lennox asks.

  Damn, I should have brought the walkie-talkies. I got them a while ago when I saw them on sale at a DIY shop, but never used them. I don't usually take people with me when I go on a job.

  I shrug. “I could roar really loudly? By then, it won't matter if people know that we're there."

  Gryphon snorts and pulls a whistle from his coat pocket. "Or we could use this. A little more sophisticated."

  "Are you calling me unsophisticated?" I quip, pretending to be offended.

  Gryphon ignores me and turns to Lennox. "Want some of my explosives? I brought some, just in case. They always come in handy one way or another."

  Boys and their toys. I let them exchange dynamite while mentally preparing myself for the assault of the building. I really hope we're in the right place, but the kholstone coated walls are a good indication that there's something going on in there. Plus, the broken man was unlikely to deceive us. All he wanted was to be released from his existence of pain and misery. Poor guy. I wonder who he was. An ex-Pack employee perhaps? I might never find out. Urgh. I hate unsolved mysteries.

  Ryker meows impatiently, and I get up from my crouched position, stretching my limbs.

  "Show us the way in," I tell him. "Let's get your son back."

  Ryker has found a rusty ventilation shaft at the other end of the building, away from the guards, which means we don't have to use his cats as a distraction.

  Lennox rips off the shaft's cover, his muscles rippling beneath his shirt as he does so. I look away. No distractions. Since he's the largest of the four of us, he goes last, with me first, followed by Ryker who's helped up onto the ledge by Gryphon.

  I move slowly across the groaning metal, trying to make as little noise as I can, but since this shaft looks older than I am, that's pretty much impossible. Hopefully, most people will have left the building by now. Compared to me, Ryker is quiet as a ghost. Sometimes, being small comes in handy. There's a turn up ahead, but before I even get there, the groaning gets louder and suddenly I'm falling.

  I land on all fours, thanking my cat instincts. I look up and stare at the massive hole in the ceiling. Oops. Guess that ventilation shaft wasn't made for people to crawl through. I dust off my clothes and wait until the others have climbed down. There are no sounds that would indicate people having noticed our arrival. I sniff the air. There's no kholstone anywhere around here, so we must be in one of the boring office parts of the building. I close my eyes to be able to focus better, and extend my senses. There's a faint trace of kholstone beneath us, and more a few storeys up, but a much smaller amount, probably just one room.

  "Lennox, you go upstairs, there's a room there that might be of interest. Maybe check that one out before you go and lay your explosives. Ryker, Gryphon, we're going to explore the basement. There's something down there that they don't want us to smell."

  "That they don't want you to smell," Gryphon corrects. "I have no idea what you're even talking about. This is a human nose
through and through."

  I raise an eyebrow at him and he shuts up. Let's not pretend that he's human, that wouldn't be good for our currently slightly strained relationship.

  "I'll be waiting for your signal," Lennox says and jogs off without another word.

  "Ryker, can you smell the kittens?" I ask in the vague hope that his genetic connection to Pumpkin might give him an advantage. He shakes his head.

  "Alright then. Basement it is. Let's be on our guard, with that stupid kholstone, I can't even sense if there are any people down there." I smirk at Ryker. "I almost wish you were a normal cat, maybe they're not affected by this like us shifters are."

  He glares at me, then runs towards the staircase at the end of the corridor. A green emergency exit sign is flickering above the double doors leading to it. Ryker waits there, probably unable to push the heavy fire doors open himself. It must be so embarrassing to be a tiny shifter surrounded by big shifters. Like me. And Lennox. And I'm kind of counting Gryphon too because he's big, albeit not a shifter. Ryker is totally outpowered.

  I pretend not to notice that he had to wait for us, and open the doors wide enough for him to slip through by my side. The staircase is dirty and smells of dusty concrete. Still better than taking the lift. I hate elevators, they make me feel out of control.

  At the bottom of the stairs, a set of metal doors await us. I can't sense anything beyond those doors and it drives me crazy. I'm not used to having to rely on my sight alone.

  Gryphon draws a curved sword from the sheath on his back and I do the same, tightly grabbing two of my favourite knives. I'm going to enjoy using them to cut up whoever hurt the kittens.

  "Ready?" I whisper and check on the two men.

  Gryphon nods and Ryker gives me a small meow. He extends his claws and arches his back, ready to battle.

  "Let's keep at least one alive," I mutter. "We need information about what they've done to my clone and what else they've been doing. Once we have that, they're all fair game."

  "I'm looking forward to it," Gryphon growls. Surprised, I look at him. His expression is fierce, his eyes full of excitement. He loves a good fight as much as I do. Or is there more? Does he want revenge for a child and cats who he doesn't even know? If so, it's proof that he's so much more human than I thought.

  I remind myself that even if it's not his family running the Pack, it’s still his kind. He must feel responsible for this at least in part. Sometimes, the biggest threats to a tyranny don't come from the outside. They come from their own creations.

  I put my hands on the door handles and take a deep breath, getting in the zone. I'm still weaker than I usually am, but the adrenaline is helping in hiding that. I should be fine against normal Pack members, and for once, I'm not alone. It's strange fighting alongside other people. Well, one person and one cat.

  With one more deep breath, I pull open the doors - exposing a long, boring, and very empty corridor. Well, that was a bit of an anti-climax.

  We're silent as we walk further into the basement. There are no doors leading off on either side, just shiny metal walls. I wonder where the kholstone is that is stopping me from properly using my senses. Behind the walls? Somehow mixed with the metal? I've only ever seen it used as a paste that's painted on walls, but this part of the Pack seem to have more advanced technology than what I'm used to. The clone's collar was one example, this might be another.

  At the end of the corridor, we have the choice of turning left and right. Gryphon signals that he'll take the right passage, and I nod in confirmation. Ryker stays with me and together, we turn left and hurry along yet another bland corridor.

  At the end of it are three doors. This time, we have to decide on one. Carefully, I press my ear against the centre door, but I can't hear a single thing. They don't just block my shifter senses, but my human ones too. Ryker sniffs the ground and suddenly, his ears twitch and he grows tense. He points a paw towards the door on the right. He must smell something, but I don't. Nothing.

  "Pumpkin?" I mouth and he nods.

  While I want to storm in right away, I take the time to pull several sleeping darts from my collar and deposit them between my fingers, ready to throw. It's quicker than fighting my way through several people while trying not to hurt them too badly. As much as I want to kill them all, the rational part of my brain keeps reminding me that we need information more than revenge.

  With my darts in one hand and a knife in the other, I slowly pull open the door.

  Three men in lab coats are standing around tables, another one is sitting at a desk. All of them are turned away from me. Perfect. Someone else is moving behind a set of shelves that act as a room divider, but I don't have time to find out who that is.

  I flick the darts, each one embedding itself in one man's neck. One guy manages to turn to me before he collapses to the floor - it’s Alfie Lomond - while the others never even get to see their assailant. I’m going to enjoy killing Alfie later on for what he did to that shed guy. Maybe I’ll make him shit himself first so that he can experience what it feels like. I wonder if I’ll ever find out what the man in the shed did to be treated like that. But this isn’t the time to ponder over such things.

  Ryker runs off while I take my other knife and prowl into the room, ready for whoever else may be waiting for me.

  The person behind the shelves must have realised what's happening. They're crouched low, hiding from me. As if that were possible.

  I sniff the air and the scent of fearful sweat enters my nostrils. It's a woman and she's scared. Not nearly as much as she should be. There's another scent though, further away. Another woman, this one is older. Not a trace of fear from her. Interesting.

  I make sure none of the men are moving and that there's nobody who I've overlooked in this part of the lab, then slowly prowl towards the shelves. It's a clever way to divide the room without adding walls. Maybe I should do that at home, split the massive dining room into smaller, more cosy parts.

  Signs of being an adult: thinking of redecorating during the most inappropriate moments.

  I feel the woman move long before she even gets close to attacking me with a pen. A pen. Seriously? Don't they have scalpels in this lab? Even scissors would be better than this. Such an insult.

  I deflect her pathetic attack, then grab her wrist, twist it and flip her around until she's secure in my grip. She squeals, but I stab her with a sleep dart before she can start doing something as disgusting as begging for mercy. I let her fall to the floor, not caring if she'll get some bruises. She's working in a Pack lab, she can't be a very nice person.

  With her out of the way, there's only one person left in this lab, unless there are others concealed behind more kholstone.

  She's standing at the very end of the room, next to a small closed door. Her white lab coat stretches around her large figure, ending just below her bum, exposing thighs that could double as tree trunks. Seems they don't make lab coats in her size.

  "Turn around, slowly," I snap, knowing exactly who this is.

  Gotcha, Grandma Doctor.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “You’ve found us then.” The woman’s voice is laced with poison and doesn’t carry even a hint of surprise. “When K8 didn’t return, I assumed she’d failed in her mission. Pity, she was showing such promise.”

  K8. Kat. My clone. She calls her by a number and that makes me incredibly angry. She’s treating a little girl not like a person, but as a lab experiment. I’m going to make her suffer for what she’s done, but not until I’ve got my answers.

  “Sit down,” I command, motioning towards a chair with one of my knives. The woman cocks an eyebrow, obviously not used to being told what to do, but she eventually does as I say.

  I walk around her, my knife close to her neck the entire time. If she knows me, she'll know that I won't hesitate to strike. Keeping the blade there as a threat, I grab a pair of handcuffs from my backpack. They're some of my favourite tools. So versatile. Chaining someone t
o a chair is quite a boring use of them, but there's no time to play with her. Torture can come later, if she decides to resist.

  When I've got her hands secure, I wrap some rope around her legs for good measure. I don't want her walking off anytime soon. Now that she's safe to be left alone for a moment, I sheathe my knife and walk over to the small door. Ryker is standing in front of it, one of his paws pressed against the steel. His eyes are so full of pain that I rip open the door as fast as I can.

  He runs inside, meowing loudly. I listen for a reply, listen, listen, and yes, a faint meow. Relief bubbles up deep in my stomach as the first is followed by two more weak meows. The kittens are here!

  "Oi, come here!" the woman shouts. "I don't have time to sit here all day."

  I roll my eyes and return to her. "You know you're tied to a chair? You're going to sit here for as long as I want you to."

  She glares at me. I'm amazed how there's still not a trace of fear in her eyes. She's either an expert at hiding it or she's simply not scared at all.

  I drag another chair over and sit down opposite her. I'm sure that if Ryker needs my help, he'll call for me. He might already be cuddling his son.

  "Who are you?" I ask, leaning back in the chair. It's surprisingly comfortable, even though it looks flimsy.

  "Haven't you figured that out yet?"

  I sigh. "How about some straight answers? You don't want to sit here for too long, neither do I. Just answer my questions and we'll be done quicker."

  She raises an eyebrow. "And then? Are you going to kill me?"

  "Potentially."

  The woman smiles. "I thought so. I've raised you well."

  I gape at her, then snort. "You've raised me? I don't think so. I've never seen you in my life."

  Her smiles increases, but not in a good way. There's poison dripping from her eyes, exposing her twistedness. I need to be wary of her. She might be at my mercy physically, but I don't think she's weak nonetheless.