Seconds later, Leo stirred, blinked, and came to, touching his face. He then swept his eyes down his body, especially his paws, and nodded. “I can think better,” he affirmed. “I sound better, no?”
Not really, but... “I need to take a blood sample.”
Harry took a syringe from the cabinet, withdrew some blood from Leo, and fed it into the differentiator. “It’ll take about an hour. Maybe you should sack out.”
“Thank you,” Leo said. “I go to sleep now.”
Waddling out of the room, he took the lead and they walked upstairs. A small storage room was on the second floor, not far from Overton’s office. It contained a small refrigerator and a bed. “We talk later?”
“Count on it,” said Harry, mustering up the confidence to give a positive answer.
Leo clambered up on the bed and curled up. Soon he began to snore and Harry went back to the basement to wait for the results. Once they came in, he made his way up to Overton’s office. The agent immediately greeted him with the comment of, “He doesn’t look so different,” and sounded disappointed.
“I figured you’d say that.”
Actually, Harry wasn’t surprised at all, and the blood test proved it. It seemed the regeneration process was only temporary, but it didn’t explain why Anastasia hadn’t reverted or why he hadn’t. After all, he was the one who’d brought her back from her cat state. Perhaps Nurmelev had known something he didn’t. The Russian scientist had used different chemicals with Anastasia, but since he was dead and his journals destroyed...
“How long has he got before he devolves again?” Overton asked, interrupting his thoughts.
Doing the math in his head didn’t take much more time than using a computer to figure it out. Either way, the result was just as depressing. “He’s got maybe a month, maybe a little more. I’ll keep working on it.” It was the least he could do.
“Yeah, and while you’re figuring it out on the science end of things, I’ll do what I can on my end.”
A buzz sounded from his pocket. He excused himself and pulled out a cellphone. A moment later, he handed the phone to Harry. “It’s for you.”
Wondering what this was all about, Harry took it. “Hello?”
“If you want to find out more about us, take a look in your own backyard,” the voice said. Heavy, raspy, it held the threat of menace and immediately a chill ran down Harry’s spine.
“Who is this?”
“I can be your best friend or your worst enemy,” the voice answered, and the next few words sent a thunderbolt of terror throughout him. “Same deal holds for that pretty kitty of a wife you’ve got. So the ball’s in your court, Mr. Goldman. If you want to play ball, make sure you’re playing for the winning team.”
After the thinly veiled threat had been delivered, the line went dead and Harry tossed the phone over. “They’re after Anastasia. I have to go.”
“I’ll drive you to the cabin.”
It was noon, the traffic was high, and no way was he going to wait in a traffic jam! “I can’t wait!”
Immediately, he tore down the stairs, through the lobby and into the street. Cars honked, people shouted, and he ran as if his life depended on it. Actually, two lives were depending on it. Midway through his journey, he got on the highway and fell to all fours, reasoning he’d run faster that way.
His assumption proved right, and he bounded through the traffic, not paying attention to the yells of the pedestrians or the honking horns, heedless of the danger around him.
Soon, the concrete gave way to the greenery of the upstate area, the traffic thinned out, and once he got within three hundred feet of the cabin, he stopped and stood upright, assessing the area. Panting and trying to slow his hammering heart, he sniffed the air, testing it for unusual aromas and body smells...
There... as he neared the cabin, an odor hit him smack in the face, or rather, his nostrils. It was the smell of his own kind... a kind he didn’t like. Gamy and rank, it reminded him of road-kill mixed with turpentine, a noxious and heavy, pervasive stink that threatened to overwhelm his nose and force the fine array of hairs inside to seek refuge elsewhere. Anastasia, oh God, Anastasia!
Fear overrode caution, and he ran to his home. “Anastasia,” he called out, “are you okay?”
He got no answer, and dread filled his soul when he spotted a trail of blood leading up to the cabin door. The door itself swung on broken hinges. Afraid of what he’d find, instead sweet relief flowed through him as he found his wife standing over the corpse of another hybrid.
It was a lithe yet muscular animal with antlers and resembled Bambi in many ways, with the spotted brown and white body of a deer. However, the face was that of a ferret’s, with almost no humanity in it. A pool of blood spread out from under the body.
“Well, glad you finally got here,” she said. “Did you run all the way?”
“Traffic jam... sorry I’m late.”
Anastasia blew out a deep breath. “Well, that happens. I was sleeping and two of these things broke in. This one’s a female. Her mate’s a little bigger, but I gave him something to think about. He escaped, but I can smell him out there, so he’s all yours.”
She had a few scratches on her face, but seemed composed. The look in her eyes, though, was one of pure violence, violence committed in the recent past and violence that would soon be repeated in the near future if necessary. A moment later, it changed from kill to maim only and she let out a sigh. “I’ll have to clean up.”
“I’ll fix the door later,” Harry promised. “What happened?”
“They came in, wanted to take me, and made me the offer of going with them peacefully or not. I chose the not option.”
Allenby... it should have come as a shock, but didn’t. The creatures out there had already proven the mastermind was still alive and up to mayhem. “Did they mention Allenby’s name?”
“Uh-huh... but they didn’t say where he was hiding.”
She went on to relate how they’d threatened to kill two lives. “That pissed me off more than anything,” Anastasia growled. “No one is going to hurt my baby.”
Motherhood—he loved it, and loved his wife even more. Harry embraced her gently and ran his hand over her stomach. “You didn’t get hit here, did you?”
“No, they never got near me except the first time. I’ll get Overton on the line—that is, after you catch this thing’s friend.” Her voice rose in anger, but then subsided to a faint growl. “You’ve got this, right?”
“I’m on it.”
“Good, I’ll make the call from bed. I need to rest up.” She walked into the bedroom and closed the door after her.
Going outside, Harry tested the air with his nose. His wife had been right about the enemy still hanging around. The gamy smell combined with blood led him to his quarry soon enough. Following the source of the stink, Harry trotted two hundred meters to his right and came upon the other ferret-deer combo sitting on a stump.
This one, though, as Anastasia had indicated, was larger than the first, a few inches taller than Harry and far more muscular. It looked up and offered a horrific smile. Half of its teeth had been knocked out, but they seemed to be re-growing at an accelerated rate.
“Glad you could make it,” it rasped in a deep and vaguely European accent and got off the stump. “Your wife hits pretty hard.”
Harry tried to figure out where the thing had come from, but right now that didn’t matter. “Apparently your mate doesn’t, not anymore.”
The creature snarled. “I’m not going to kill you for that, although I should. I should also kill your wife for slaying mine, but I won’t. I will, however, hurt both of you very badly.”
Okay, it was trash talk time, and Harry found his rage building second by second. “You couldn’t even take on a pregnant woman. What makes you think you can take me?”
A smirk—which resembled a gargoyle’s grin if gargoyles had such an ability—formed on the creature’s face. “In case you haven’t
figured it out, I heal faster than your kind does. I’m also stronger, and I’ve got a reason to kill you. Like I said,” it rolled its neck around and tensed its muscles, “I’m just going to hurt both of you. Killing you isn’t part of the plan, not yet, anyway. The question is, who’s first, you or your wife?”
“Go through me first.”
His opponent immediately made the first move, getting down on all fours and charging with a hoarse bellow emanating from its mouth. Harry let it pass to slam headfirst into a tree. “Try again,” he growled, angry that his wife had been threatened repeatedly. “Try again, and I may let you live.”
Pulling its head back and shaking the loose bark from it, the creature turned around and bared bloody teeth. It charged again, and this time Harry caught it with a powerful left hook to its jaw area as it passed. The blow caused the monster to reel, but it didn’t go down. “So tell me, Bambi, where’s Allenby hiding? How many more of you are there?”
Another headshake accompanied by a groan of pain and anger erupted from the monster’s throat. Perhaps it knew it couldn’t win, but it had strength enough to say, “My master gave me a message to give to you. We are close, very close, and there are more, many more. Get ready for the storm.”
It charged for the third time. Do or die, now or never, and Harry let his claws out and swiped at the thing’s side. It staggered and fell, and as it did so, he grabbed it around its throat and attempted to choke it. However, the creature was strong and also clever. It snapped its head back and one of its antlers caught him in the throat.
Gasping for air, Harry fell on his back and the creature turned over and reared up. Its heavy paws smashed down repeatedly onto his chest. “You’re weaker than your wife. You have no tail, no speed... what makes you think you can take me?”
Claws out, Harry swiped the air and connected, tearing out its throat. “That.”
Blood from the creature jetted into the air and it fell on its back, pawing the air and making whispering noises as it bled to death. A moment later, it emitted a heavy sigh and stopped moving.
Exhausted from the battle, Harry took a few seconds to regain his strength, retracted his claws, and sniffed to air to make sure no one else was coming. After finding no sign of the enemy, he ran back to the cabin, calling his wife’s name at the top of his lungs.
“I’m here,” she called back. “Did you have a good time?”
What an absurd question, he thought, but once he saw Anastasia waiting for him, cellphone in hand and a blasé expression on her face, he knew things would be all right. She’d changed clothes into a pair of yellow pajamas and was yawning. Apparently, the earlier attack hadn’t fazed her at all. “His phone line’s been busy, so I kept at it. Is the other thing history?”
“Yeah, he’s finished.” Harry wiped his forehead and smelled the rankness of the dead mutant on him. He’d had enough of killing after the adventures involving Szabo and his ilk, but against an enemy willing to sacrifice life, any life, he knew he could never let his guard down for an instant. If it came down to him becoming as savage as the opposition, then so be it.
Anastasia redialed the number, listened, and then handed it over. “Agent Overton?” he asked.
“It’s me. What’s going on?”
“It seems we have a problem.”
Chapter Ten: Re-emergence
Overton drove up about an hour later with four cars behind him. Tires squealed as the vehicles screeched to a stop. Black-suited agents got out, eight in all, with Overton in the lead. He automatically ran to the house, pistol drawn, and Harry met him halfway. “I’ll show you where the body is. One of them’s inside.”
Guiding him and two other agents to view the now deader-than-dead ferret-deer, Overton pursed his lips in distaste and surveyed the area. “Are you checking to see point of entry?” Harry asked, while figuring things out mathematically from every angle.
“I am.”
It seemed to be a pointless exercise, a typical macho by-the-book example of how to trap the enemy. In this case, the enemy was a whole lot more resourceful as well as knowledgeable.
As for the forest, the entire area was one large entry point. How could anyone defend a forest with an incredibly huge number of trees and hiding places? Harry had to rely on his senses. His wife had to as well, but in any case, he checked his snark at the door.
Meanwhile, the head agent ordered his men to take the bodies away and set up shop. “Get everything ready,” he called out to two of his men who were fiddling with an array of electrical wire.
“You mean string up a bunch of lights and cameras, don’t you?”
Overton turned his head around briefly and spoke as if annoyed anyone would question his judgment. “What else would you do?” He turned to his men and pointed at the corpse. “Get that thing out of here.”
Silently, they picked up their cargo and left, and Overton began to walk back. Harry brought up the rear, wondering if all this was necessary, and once he reached the cabin, he saw the rest of the agents in the middle of their task of setting up an array of surveillance equipment.
Anastasia emerged from the cabin to stand with him. They watched in silence as the men went about their business, hooking things up, strategically placing infrared lamps, motion sensors and cameras around a two hundred yard perimeter. Once done, an agent gave a thumbs-up sign.
“I feel safer already,” she remarked to Overton who’d stood near the cabin’s now-repaired front door. Two other agents came out huffing and puffing as they carried the female assailant’s body away.
Apparently, he didn’t catch the sarcasm in her voice. “Glad you do. This was Farrell’s order as well as mine,” he answered, not taking his eyes off his men for a second. They drove off and an eerie silence settled over the area.
If the agent hadn’t caught the sarcasm, Harry did, and he wondered why they’d bothered showing up, since the danger had already appeared. All the security in the world was not going to stop a fanatic like Allenby. “Let’s take this inside,” he said.
Once the door had closed, everyone took seats on the couch. At least the stain of blood on the floor was gone. Anastasia had already cleaned it, but the smell of blood lingered. Overton started off by saying, “Tell me everything that happened.”
Harry recounted the story and Anastasia chimed in from time to time, adding details. Overton’s face got a look of concern on it when he heard the expression the storm is coming but said nothing.
During the conversation, Anastasia excused herself to grab some food—which consisted of two whole pizzas she consumed in the period of less than three minutes—and then came back with two other pizzas. Overton declined his, saying he had to watch his weight, but Harry tore through his snack. In between bites, he asked, “Have you heard any demands from Allenby?”
“Not yet,” the reply came. Overton took out his cellphone to check it, nodded at the screen, and then put it away. “Messages,” he said offhandedly. “I’ve been asking Jason and Maze to check on movements within the USA as well as Canada. This continent remains our priority. It has to. I understand Europe’s got problems, and they’re grateful to us for helping out, but their governments have already informed us they’re going to handle their transgenic population difficulties themselves.”
“Difficulties,” Anastasia repeated. “Difficulties for whom, may I ask?” She arched her eyebrows and a deep rumble came from within her chest, indicating mounting anger. “If you’re thinking we’re the problem, then you’ve got another thing coming.”
Overton put up his hands, seemingly as a sign of conceding her point. “All right, poor choice of words on my part, but what I said stands. There are difficulties, some of which we’ve already discussed, homes and jobs, for example. We can’t meddle in their affairs, and we have to think of ourselves first.”
“I assume that means thinking of us as well?”
Once again, Anastasia posed the question, and this time leaned forward to make her position a little cle
arer. “We’re the ones who have to fit in, not you. We’re the ones who have to put up with the insults, not you. And we’re the ones who’ve been doing your dirty work.”
“Not you,” Harry added.
With their assertion, Overton once more threw up his hands. “You’re right, so what else do you want me to say?”
Anastasia pointed a delicate yet lethal claw at one of the motion sensors that had been installed over the door. A sour look flitted across her face.
Overton heaved in a deep breath. “Yes, we’re wired in, and someone is going to be watching you.”
“From where,” she wanted to know. “I am not in the mood for Peeping Feds dropping in at all hours of the day. We do have a life here, you know.”
Overton obviously got upset at the rebuff. Harry watched, as his notion of getting upset consisted of shifting his butt on the couch and folding his arms across his chest, accompanied by a rather childish whiny note in his voice.
“I’ll have you know the order came directly from Farrell. He may be sick, but he’s still nominally in charge, and he’s concerned. I am as well, so that’s why things are as they are. The surveillance team is renting a cabin around half a mile from here. We’ll have men patrolling here for the next two weeks at least, just to make sure no unwanted presence is detected.”
The speech, so solemnly presented, made Harry snort in disbelief. “Hate to burst your bubble, but they’re already here. The two bodies your men took away are proof. So how are extra men going to deter a nutcase like Allenby?”
“It’s a show of strength.”
The childish whine disappeared, replaced by something raw and tired sounding. It couldn’t have been easy to implement all these precautions, not to mention coordinate with foreign governments, and in spite of the agent’s earlier faux pas concerning transgenics, Harry gained a measure of respect for the way he’d handled things so far.
“I’m sorry this happened, but there was no way we could have foreseen this,” Overton continued.
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