by Chanel Smith
“Long story short, I was married twenty-six years ago. We have two children. Mike’s twelve and Sandy is eighteen now… my ex lives here with her new husband, two new kids. They said if I didn’t do what they wanted they’d see to it that Mike and Sandy both got Ebola. Petra, I couldn’t… I can’t…” tears ran unchecked down his face.
“Art, I’m so sorry. How awful.” Then it hit home, and she was horrified beyond belief. “Please don’t tell me that you invented an easy way to spread Ebola around.”
“Lord no, but I saw the news today like you probably did and it’s clear why you’d think that, but no. What I invented – what they forced me to create – was a targeted DNA missile. It went after one person, Petra. One.”
“What news?”
“An outbreak in New Orleans. Thousands sick, the hospitals over-run.” He shuddered.
“But why would you think you caused it, Art?” This wasn’t making any sense. If he’d created a disease or something that attacked a person or creature with one specific DNA helix, how could multiple people be ill?
“Because Mickey forced us to test it. We let it loose into the wild. On a bayou just outside of New Orleans, Petra.”
His face was now a study in misery and he couldn’t meet her eyes. Suddenly she was back in the bayou running from Whatever-It-was, the terror that was behind her when Raya had joined her. She remembered the many dead things it had left in its wake.
Whatever-It-Was now had a name, at least.
A DNA missile.
Chapter Thirteen
Petra had really chosen a dump, Raya thought as he approached her hotel at nearly 2AM. Joseph had given him one of his unique ‘lifts’ to New Jersey, and the pair had rented a car.
“Raya, I don’t know about this place,” Joseph said now. “What’s Miss Petra doing here?”
“Don’t know, Joseph but we’re gonna find out. Watch the door, will you?” Raya asked as he fiddled with the lock on Room 101, Petra’s door. Luckily it wasn’t a card entry, just a plain old locked doorknob. The day he couldn’t break into that was a sad day indeed.
Sure enough, in minutes, he was walking into the dark room while Joseph kept his eyes on the other side of the door.
The room was pitch dark with heavy curtains covering the windows. Twin beds sported ratty, spotted bedspreads. On the walls were paintings on velvet, including the famous dogs playing poker.
Petra’s bag was open on the far bed, clothing spilling out. Nothing had been hung up. Near the sink, her makeup bag sat, just the mascara wand out. It looked to Raya like she’d grabbed something to wear, started to do her makeup and gotten a call that had her dashing out the door.
Once again, he dialed her phone, not expecting an answer.
“Hey, you! Up late, aren’t you?” her voice said.
“Christos, I’ve been calling you for hours and you didn’t respond. Woman, you’d best have one hell of a good explanation.”
“I’ve been crouched on top of a toilet in the Four Season’s men’s room for the last three hours. How does that grab you?” Her voice was shaking with suppressed laughter.
“You… what? Where? You alone in there I hope?”
“Hell, no. I wasn’t alone. And it was truly lovely. The guy farted more than any human I’ve ever known. In fact, I thought only wolves farted that much.”
That was enough. Raya exploded.
“What the hell? You were in a stall with a man using the bathroom! There’d better be a GODDAMN good explanation, Petra! I’ve had just about enough of this...”
The hotel door rattled as someone put a key in the lock. Raya closed his phone and quickly stepped behind the door just as it swung open. He had a small club in one hand, something he always wore on his belt for occasions just like this. He raised it high above his head and leaped forward as Petra sauntered in, still talking to him on the phone.
Never one to miss a golden opportunity for sheer devilry, he pounced and put one hand over her mouth to keep her from yelling and the other over her eyes. In a deep, false Southern accent he said, “Why there’s a purty lady right in ole Nick’s bedroom. Reckon I got me some wolf pussy tonight!”
Petra dropped to the ground so fast he lost his hold, and then she spun, shot a foot directly to his balls. She’d have connected if he wasn’t in midair leaping for the bed, laughing hysterically as he went.
“Is this my wolf pussy?” he managed to choke out before falling onto the bed and rolling with mirth.
Petra stood, approached the bed with eyebrows lowered. She stood for a moment, staring directly at Raya’s face.
“Excuse me, but do I know you?”
Raya’s entire body went limp.
“Oh God, no, not again. Petra. Petra, it’s me. Raya, your mate.”
“Good! Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it?” She flew to the other bed as he let out a growl and pounced.
***
It was nearly sunrise before Raya lay with Petra stretched across his chest.
“Itchiko and I might have discovered something pretty awful tonight,” Raya began. “You know that flu in New Orleans?”
Petra sighed. “The one caused by a doctor that the Rats blackmailed into creating it?” At his shocked look, she nodded. “The guy invented a DNA missile, essentially. You put a disease in it, enter the DNA of your target and let it go. But it went wrong. It makes everybody but the target sick, the doctor thinks.”
“How does he know that? Who was the target, to begin with?”
“Me.”
He froze, every muscle locked solid with horror and fury.
“I’ll fucking tear him apart.”
“You won’t. He’s likely the only hope for a cure.”
“Does he have a cure, then?”
“No, but he hopes...”
“Forget that. I’ll head to the Tribe immediately to find out what will cure everybody, once Chen is alright,” Raya announced.
“That’s probably the best idea,” Petra agreed.
He gave her a hard, rough kiss before jumping to his feet.
“Right. A quick shower and I’m back to Chen’s place.”
***
The next night, just as midnight approached, Raya, Itchiko and Chen were in Tara’s war room – really just a large office that had been converted into the brain of the new security system that Itchiko had installed. The room had no windows. All along the left side and the back were monitors stacked three high, which showed most of the property live. If a motion detector tripped, the enormous back monitor would show the area the detector covered. Under that picture were four others showing the surrounding areas.
They’d been sitting and talking since 9 p.m. Chen was so revved up with nerves that his hands were visibly shaking around the cards he was holding. For the past hour, the men had been playing Blackjack.
“Oh, ho!” Itchiko yelled. “Beat that.”
He flipped the jack of hearts up onto his already-showing ace of spades. The other two men moaned.
“Payback,” Raya muttered loudly. “You just…”
A siren sounded. All three men dropped their cards and leaped in different directions; Itchiko for his automatic rifle, Raya for his phone on the table, and Chen for the tablet that had been loaded with security apps. Another siren went off, then three more in swift succession.
“Shit!” Chen exclaimed. “How many are there and where are they?”
Nothing showed on the monitors as yet. Itchiko had explained that the motion detectors would pick up movement more than two hundred feet out, so it wouldn’t show on any of the monitors until whatever it was came within sight of a camera.
One minute passed, then another. The tension in the office built until the air was thick with it. Raya believed he could almost see the waves of nerves and apprehension climbing up the white walls, reaching ever higher.
“There,” Itchiko said quietly.
There was silence while all three men studied the back wall. The largest picture was the are
a covered by the first motion detector that had been tripped. Off to the south of Chen’s property, the detector had been installed on a tree that stood at the edge of the virgin forest that stretched for miles behind it. Something deep in the forest had tripped it.
The camera installed just under it overlooked smooth lawn dotted with ancient old trees, most of which were lit now.
All of the monitors seemed to be showing the same thing, as the property was so large. But then there was movement.
Something streaked under the first camera, headed toward Chen’s house across the intervening acres. Then something else raced past the camera on the left, and then, simultaneously,
“Shit!” From Raya.
“Goddamn it!” From Chen.
“How interesting,” were the words that came from Itchiko.
Raya couldn’t believe his eyes as hundreds of wolves shot past the cameras. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but nowhere near what he was now seeing. He leaped for the door.
“Stop!” Itchiko’s voice rang out with the command. Both of the other men halted, puzzled.
“There’s no time to explain, just do what I say. Each of us will set off several of the honey bombs as these wolves pass. We want to nail a group here, a group there. Understand?”
“Yes,” they both said and took their seats at two computers.
“I’m taking the middle. Chen: the east, toward the cellars. Do not do them in a row. Stagger them. Raya, you have the west. Two buttons each.”
As he spoke, Itchiko hit enter for the first device. It was silent; although the cameras were audio-equipped, nothing was heard for a second or two. The results were instantly visible, though.
A group of wolves was no longer running in tandem. Instead, they were leaping in the air, rolling on the ground, agony on their faces. Dots whizzed by the closest camera, looking almost like sleet. But this sleet was targeting wolves, and it caused the audio to kick in when the wolves started howling, barking, and yelping.
Itchiko’s idea had been simplicity itself. He’d set up pressure pads with an automatic release attached wirelessly to each one. If a certain weight or greater hit a pad, it would trigger a command to the corresponding cover some six feet away, toward the house. The cover would slide open, and there’d be nothing then protecting the African bee hive from whatever had hit the pressure pad behind it. The same command detonated a bomb, but this bomb didn’t have nails or any other dangerous cargo. Just a couple of gallons of honey.
That was all.
It was over as quickly as it started, with wolves fleeing back toward the cameras in ragged, leaping movements. In moments, the property was calm.
“I’d never have believed that if I hadn’t seen it,” Raya said.
“You or me, either one,” Chen added. “I can’t thank you enough, Itchiko. Both of you, really.”
Itchiko grinned one of his very rare wide, toothy grins.
“It was truly my pleasure.”
“How did you ever get that idea?” Chen wondered.
“Saw a thing on Discovery Channel about these aggressive African bees. If one stings, it marks the predator for the rest. They all attack that same target! Killed some poor farmer in Texas, and it gave me an idea for a weapon without bullets or metal.”
“I didn’t know bees even stung at night,” Raya said.
“Indeed they do, though more slowly than daytime,” Itchiko said. “I think a better question would be to ask why wolves were sent in such numbers against Tara.”
“And in the same breath, what does that means for Heureuse,” Raya said, the hair on the back of his neck rising.
***
The good doctor’s email had terrified Petra. She had been hoping for a deeper explanation of the ‘missile’ but what she got was earth shattering. Art’s original DNA ‘disease’ was supposed to have targeted ONE set of DNA. It was supposed to hit that person, and then… boom.
Instead, it became sentient. Everything sentient needs to live. To live, the disease thrived off the deaths of its victims. The more deaths, the healthier, the larger the thing grew until it broke in half, reproducing. A sort of Borg mentality, but smart.
Chapter Fourteen
The next afternoon, Petra slept in for the first time in ages. She’d spoken to Raya before she fell asleep, and his news had been good. Itchiko and his plans had been simply amazing, period. Her own news had horrified Raya of course. Horrified him and puzzled him. He’d asked twice how it worked. If the doctor had only targeted one DNA sequence, why then had so many become sick? Petra was unable to answer, so he was determined to look into it.
Enough lying in bed and thinking, she said to herself. Elinor will be here near 2:00.
It was their last time together, as Petra was due to return to Louisiana later that day. Elinor had promised to try and get some information about Mickey, primarily where he was staying. She’d told Petra the previous day that she had one good idea on how to find the Alpha, and she’d tell her all the next afternoon.
So Petra was excited as she hopped into the shower. Maybe she’d even get a glimpse of this jackass before she went home. Alpha’s Alpha indeed.
She must have been more tired than she thought because she put her head down for a minute and woke up again, still in her towel, to find that it was nearly 2:30. And still no sign of Elinor yet. Well, only twenty minutes late. She’d get up, do her hair and makeup. By then Elinor would be here for sure.
She wasn’t.
Petra stood at the mirror applying mascara, and she had a bad feeling about Elinor. Once finished, she grabbed her phone and called the woman.
Straight to voicemail.
Crap.
When 3:10 rolled around, she couldn’t seem to console herself any longer. She and Elinor had set up an emailing schedule, just in case. Elinor sent her an email every two hours. If Petra didn’t get that email within 10 minutes, she was to go get Shelley immediately and take the child with her back to New Orleans.
Something really had gone wrong. She gave Art a call, to find him just as confused and concerned. He said he’d get in touch with Shelley’s daycare center and call Petra back.
He was as good as his word, and the news was better than she’d expected: Shelley was in the classroom with her group. Groups would be dismissed in the next twenty minutes, though, and Petra had to be there.
She ignored her rented car and called a cab. Otherwise, she’d probably end up driving around, getting lost in unfamiliar New Jersey and be late. If no one was there to pick her up, the child would just be scared. Couldn’t have that.
She arrived at Fairlaster Care Center for Children two minutes after it had let out. There was an incredibly long line of cars waiting for children. As the cab crept closer and closer to the front of the school, Petra spotted Shelley anxiously scanning every car. Her heart sank. What on earth would she say? What could she say?
Finally the cab was several car lengths away from where a crowd of children waited, Shelley was right up front. Petra stuck her head out and yelled, “Hey Shelley! Over here!”
The child’s small face sagged in relief as she picked up her book bag and raced to the cab. Petra held the door open for her.
“Where’s Mom?” Shelley asked as she slid onto the seat.
“She asked me to pick you up,” Petra said. “We’ll wait back at the hotel for her.”
But what if Elinor didn’t show up? What in hell was Petra going to do then? She couldn’t simply trot back to New Orleans with the child in tow – not if Elinor was in some sort of trouble.
But she’d promised to do exactly that.
She was torn. But an hour later her phone rang, and to Petra’s relief the caller ID indicated it was Elinor. Petra answered the call immediately.
“El! You scared us to death. I got Shelley from school, she’s right here.”
“Get her out,” Elinor whispered so softly, Petra wasn’t sure what she’d heard.
“Do what?”
; “Get her the hell out of New Jersey! Take her home. Don’t ever listen to anything I have to say again if I call you.”
Suddenly there was a scuffle, the phone sounded as if it had been dropped.
“Get her the hell out!” Elinor screamed. “Go, Petra!”
It sounded as if someone covered the speaker of the phone; it went silent for a moment. Then Petra heard a low, whispery voice say, “Petra Lupeinescu, is it not?”
“This is Petra. What have you done with Elinor?” she demanded.
There was a soft chuckle.
“Now that’s an interesting question. You’d do better to ask how others are, starting with your beloved Alpha maybe. Tell me. Has he got a runny nose, hmmmmm?”
“What the hell you talking about?”
“Oh, you know. A bad cough, upset stomach, bleeding sores here and there and of course a runny nose. Brings new meaning to ‘totally buggered,’ does it not?” His laugh was distinctly mocking before he added, “Listen, bitch. Stay away from my Rats. All of my Rats, or I’ll have to present you with another personalized gift. Now fuck off, there’s a good werewolf.”
Click.
“I’d be glad to, and thanks for calling,” Petra said into the dead phone before she finally put it down.
“That was Mom at first, wasn’t it?” Shelley said, tears pouring down her face.
“Yes. And now we know she’s OK.”
“No, we don’t. Someone did something to her and yanked the phone away and spoke to you. Who? And what’d they do with Mom?”
Petra sighed inwardly. Not a stupid kid, this.
“I assume that was the infamous Mickey. He didn’t say what he wanted, but I know what your Mom wants, and that’s for us to be as far from him as we can get.”
“Not when Mom’s in trouble here.”
Shelley’s eyes were huge, dripping with tears. She kept running her hands over her frizzy bush of hair, smoothing it down. It gave Petra an idea on how to take the child’s mind off this current horror. “We won’t leave just yet. I have people working on Elinor’s whereabouts. In the meantime, though, I really need something done to my hair. What about you? Shall we both go get our hair done? Cut, dye, whatever else?”