Zero

by R. E. Carr

  “You mean . . ?”

  The girls followed Kyle past the bowed-out door of the supply closet and the trashed row of cabinets used to help hold the line. Kayleigh quietly swept up shredded paper towels while Nadia stood guard. A haggard Steve stepped out of the breakroom, wiping cotton-candy pink lipstick off his cracked lips.

  “Can we try to keep these incidents to a minimum? I need a shower,” Steve muttered as he stormed past the lot of them without a second glance.

  “Steve . . .?” Paige called after him, but she heard the door to the lab slam. “I see he’s still understandably pissed.”

  “Your mom’s in there. She’s the only one he’s talking to,” Toy explained. “Moodiness runs in your family, doesn’t it?”

  Paige rolled her eyes, much to the triumphant glee of Toy. Paige stepped over a shattered mop to slip over to the clinic side of the lab, where an emaciated, pale Jonathan curled up in the adjustable bed. Bandages wrapped around his hands and feet, while straps and soft cuffs kept him held down.

  “Holy fuckbuckets!” Toy exclaimed, as they all saw why Jonathan had been strapped down while lying on his side. “That is a mighty fine—”

  “Tail,” Paige finished. Tape crisscrossed Jonathan’s healing bare back, while a mighty impressive, silky, black tail twitched feverishly against the bloody sheets. “And I don’t remember those either.”

  Paige pointed to a pair of black tattoos, one on each shoulder blade. One looked like a wolf head, the other a dragon. As Paige watched, Jonathan’s skin darkened and expanded the pattern, slowly encroaching on his arms and spine.

  “Is he turning black?” only Toy dared ask.

  Kyle checked the twin IVs – one of blood, one of saline. He injected the line with a mysterious, clear fluid. “The patterns on his back have appeared and disappeared a few times since his fur retracted. His mother was a shapeshifter, and Lorcan did have that weird shadow thing - so maybe this is just the way his powers manifest in a living body. One thing’s for sure though, we have got to get him drinking blood ASAP. Not to be a dick here, but you’re pretty persuasive, Little Bit—”

  “And I think he’s already hot for you, so just use your magic p—”

  “I’ll talk to him, OK,” Paige sighed. “But stop thinking that it’s so simple. He’s confused enough, and now he has a tail to deal with.”

  “These are the conversations that only we have,” Toy muttered. She helped Kyle mix up a stash of the werewolf favorite – whey protein shakes, while Paige eased around the bed so she could get a look at Jonathan’s face. His handsome mug was still a bit stretched and bruised, with sunken cheeks and a straggly mix of sandy and black scruff around his jaw and chin. One eye barely squeezed open as Paige leaned closer to him.

  “I feel terrible,” Jonathan croaked out, his voice nearly unintelligible. He raised his bandaged hand ever so slightly. “What hap-hap—” He burst into furious coughing.

  “Don’t try to speak, just listen,” Paige said softly, brushing her fingers through the fuzz on his head.

  “Are you gonna give him the speech about how his body has just gone through a lot of changes?” Toy asked chipperly. She clamped her mouth shut as Paige gave her a look of death. Jonathan, however, let out a pained little laugh. Paige raised a brow.

  “Changes . . . werewolf . . . get it,” Jonathan choked out.

  “Try to drink this,” Paige said as she snatched a trucker cup from Toy. Jonathan struggled to slurp the protein shake for an awkward minute or two. Kyle then handed Paige one of those fancy opaque travel cups from a coffee shop, complete with solid straw. Kyle nodded to Paige. She switched the straws on Jonathan. “Now drink this.”

  She slipped it in his mouth. His eyes widened in horror as the first splash hit his tongue. He froze. Paige gave him a little nod and nudged the straw against his fangs. Jonathan’s eyes then rolled back as he began greedily guzzling from the cup. The distinctive slurping noise of a straw hitting air echoed throughout the room.

  “More,” Jonathan growled, his eyes now solid black. Paige tossed the empty cup to Kyle who refilled it with werewolf speed. Paige made sure to wipe the straw before turning to face Jonathan. He practically leapt from bed to clamp his mouth on the straw. “More!” he snarled as the cup drained again.

  Popping sounds filled the room as Jonathan’s hands and feet slid back into their human positions. Kyle made the mistake of bringing the bag into the open for a refill, and the patient recoiled in horror and turned sickly green.

  “Not the blood,” Paige said quickly. “He wants another drink of the special shake.”

  Kyle blocked the bag and travel cup with his body and the hungry cycle began anew. After about two quarts got chugged, the color returned to Jonathan’s face and his eyes returned to a bright emerald green.

  “That, sir, is magic,” Jonathan said, rolling his head back to look at Kyle. “Do I want to know what it is?”

  “Nope,” Paige said. “It’s our secret shake for you. Let’s leave it at that.”

  “I hope it’s not his special sauce.” Jonathan started picking at his bandaged hands until Paige helped unwrap them. They both stared in awe at his normal hands. He wiggled his left ring finger in particular. “Damn, it’s straight again.”

  “Don’t say a word,” Kyle grumbled. He flipped Jonathan’s IV to double saline. He then gave a bit of a slanted grin and muttered, “Well I’m glad something in here is straight,” prompting long-overdue giggles from both Toy and Paige.

  “Holy shit!” Jonathan managed to turn just enough to see the violently twitching new appendage extending from his spine. He tugged at the covers, exposing to the world a set of buns fine enough to temporarily distract every other person in the room.

  “I can die happy,” Toy said with a little sigh.

  Paige blinked a few times. “Um, it’s not as bad as it seems—”

  “Not as bad as it seems? I have a goddamned tail sticking out of my ass!”

  “Well so do I, and you don’t hear me complaining,” Paige fired back.

  “Today,” Toy muttered as she grabbed Kyle’s arm. “Doctor, I say we leave the explanations to Shorty Spice.”

  “It’s a . . . it’s a—” Jonathan turned deathly pale. His eyes widened as Paige shimmied a bit and wiggled her butt until she could finally fish her own furry appendage out for the world to see. Jonathan blinked a few times.

  “So this is a werewolf thing?”

  Paige nodded.

  “Do the others . . ?”

  Paige shook her head. Jonathan became fascinated by watching both his and her tail swish back and forth. He then cocked his head and stared at Paige in profile.

  “Wait are you . . . knocked up?” he asked, raising a brow.

  “Yup.”

  “Oh, that explains the um . . . and the um, and um . . . wow. I have very strong, strange emotions right now. I feel kinda guilty, you know, hitting on you. I’m sorry.”

  “The dad and I broke up a while ago. It’s complicated. Anyway, you’re taking this rather well, all things considered.”

  “I dunno, it’s like there is this huge weight lifted off my chest now. I feel like the anger is sorta let out and I’m much calmer. For the first time in ages, I feel sated.”

  “It’s the special shakes. Shall we leave it at that for now?”

  Jonathan nodded. He blushed slightly as he realized that his tail and other rear assets were still quite visible to the naked eye. He shuffled with the covers as best he could. Paige wandered over and began loosening his restraints. He gave her a little wink.

  “Have you always got the keys to the handcuffs?”

  “It’s our code moon protocol,” she explained as she set him free. “It’s not as good as when we had the dungeon - don’t ask - but we all need to at least have keys and know where the restraints are here in case someone goes. Our safe room at the lab is the supply closet. You ripped it apart, but it held.”

  “I guess our time of the month really sucks?
”

  Paige rolled her eyes. “Really? It’s not every month, you know. We manage it with careful release of stress and using mindfulness tricks. I tend to clean, so I’m very popular when it builds up. Toy watches sappy romance movies. Kyle colors or does Sudoku. We’ll figure out what works for you. Nadia has a gift for it. I don’t think she’s had to fully change in years. You do need to, um, let out your aggression though. Lots of physical activity . . . and . . . you’re staring at it aren’t you?”

  Jonathan’s eyes were locked on her rear end. “Should I bend over and pick up a pencil?” she asked.

  “It’s mesmerizing.”

  “Thank you, now let’s get you cleaned up—”

  “How do we wear pants? Does it go to sleep if you sit on it? Oh my god, what do you do if you have to take a dump?”

  Paige took a deep breath. “You tuck it under your waistband and can’t wear anything tight. Yes, it does; and you just make sure to lift it up. I also keep wet wipes handy in case of enchilada emergencies. Wow, I can’t believe I’m having to explain that.”

  “Does it ever, you know, retract?”

  “Mine got cut off once. It regrew.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Any other questions? Wait, before you ask, yes, I totally play with it. I play with it all the fucking time. Sometimes I even play with it in the shower, and when I’m really feeling sassy, I condition it slowly.”

  Jonathan shifted in the bed, making sure to move the sheets a bit. Paige helped him slide on some slipper socks and a hospital gown. She did sneak one more little peek at his backside as she tied him up. Jonathan gasped apologetically as his hand brushed her tail while she helped him up. She returned the favor, but not quite so gently.

  “Hey!”

  “Oops,” Paige muttered as she helped him take his first few steps. Jonathan leaned over slightly. She felt his breath as he sniffed her throat. “You OK there?”

  “Sorry, um, I think I smelled . . . you,” he confessed. “I’m not really used to people having a smell unless they forget deodorant.”

  “Oh, more being a werewolf fun,” Paige warned. “Wait till you walk past your first dumpster full of kitty litter on a hot summer’s day.”

  “What is that smell?” Kevin muttered as he leafed through the pile of bags at his feet. Gail kept her gaze locked on the metal still corroding on one stubborn bar. Kevin finally found the offensive bag. “Eww, how long has this been here?”

  He tossed the offensive sack of burgers into her cage. Gail retched at the mix of rancid fat and stale bread. Her disgust could not beat the hunger deep in her belly and she ripped open the wrappers and shoved the nasty patty in her mouth, maggots, and all. The lights flickered as she gulped it down.

  “If you’re that hungry, I’ve got a little something for you,” Kevin said with a smile.

  “Emphasis on little?” Gail asked with a sneer. Kevin growled.

  “I’d watch that tongue if I were you.”

  “Or what?” Gail asked with every bit of spite she could muster. She locked her hands together and wrapped the chains as best she could around the manacles. “What are you gonna do? Bore me to death with more of your same, stupid stories?”

  “Why you little—”

  “Bitch?” Gail offered. “Is that the only word your pea-sized brain knows? Bitch? Whore? Cunt? Seriously, how pathetic was your sex life before, that you refer to all women this way?”

  “You!”

  Gail dug her heels in and braced for it. Her foot complained as she forced pressure against her still-knitting bones, but she held firm. Kevin grabbed the chains.

  “I would rather die than ever suck your disgusting, common blood.”

  ‘Common’ finally triggered something. Kevin growled again, this time showing off his fangs. “I’ll show you common!”

  Gail dug in, trying her best to look like she was cowering in the back of the cell. Her captor took the bait and jerked the chains with as much force as he could. Gail managed to see that perfect moment when his smug anger turned to utter shock as the bars gave way while she rammed into them. Iron clattered against concrete, and she crashed into him with enough force to send him sprawling while she rolled for the door. As she fumbled back to her feet she could just see a handle perched against the jamb. She lunged and roared in frustration as she tripped up on her chains.

  “You little—”

  Gail somehow found the strength to scramble a few more feet and grab the handle. Her eyes lit up as she now held a sledgehammer in her hands. “Call me bitch one more time!” she howled as she swung. Kevin went flying into her cell.

  “What . . . are . . . you?” he asked, coughing up blood as he now reeled and recoiled. “What are you!?”

  The lights flickered in the room again as all the shadows seemed to coalesce around Gail’s shaking grip. Kevin scuttled backward along the ground, trying to get his back to the wall. Gail roared, her fangs now extended over her bottom lip.

  “I . . . am . . . not a bitch!”

  With that, she slammed the hammer into Kevin’s knee and he howled in pain. Her next swing crushed his opposite ankle. Her breathing grew ragged as she exulted over their sudden change of positions. Her fangs extended again. She brought the hammer down one last time, right between Kevin’s legs. He squealed.

  His squeaking noises faded as he saw the hammer only crushed concrete. Gail swung around and straddled him, driving her knees painfully into his chest. She backhanded him with her manacles. The force shattered his jaw and slammed his head into the wall. Kevin slumped over – unconscious, but somehow still with an obnoxious smile on his face. Gail clawed at his lapel until she managed to rip open his breast pocket and snag the keys. She trembled and fumbled, until she finally got the keys into her mouth so she could unlock her restraints. Once free, she grabbed the hammer and stumbled out the door. She took one last lingering look between her collapsed captor and the weapon in her hands.

  “I am not a bitch,” she snarled one more time before finally walking away.

  Gail found herself in a control room of sorts, with a laptop, logbooks, and a map strewn on a folding table. The laptop displayed a camera feed, showing her broken cell with a blur next to her discarded shackles. She grabbed the computer and as many papers as she could grab, and shoved them into the bag by the desk. Her eyes widened as she found a set of brass knuckles, a knife, and a pistol all waiting for her in the satchel. She slung the bag over her shoulder and clutched her hammer for dear life. One more glance at the map showed her the layout of an old animal park. The lights flickered again. She finally noticed a key fob and a mammoth set of keys.

  She made her way out the front of the old “Cat Rescue Facility”, stopping only to grab a board and slide it between the handles. Gail looked to her left and right, desperately tapping on buttons until she heard a beep. She clambered as best she could over a crumbling wall, alternatively dragging her hammer and using it as a crutch to steady herself. She hit the button again and burst out in maniacal laughter as she finally saw lights flash.

  She scrambled through trash and leaf debris until she finally saw the object of her desire – an ostentatious white SUV with tinted windows and gold-plated rims. Just as she finally dragged her tired, filthy ass into the parking lot, a set of headlights lit up. Gail screamed and picked up her hammer. “Come and get me, you bastards!” she screamed. The tiny hatchback skidded to a stop.

  Gail glowered. A complete stranger in glasses and a trucker hat opened the driver side door. He immediately collapsed onto the gravel of the lot as a second, shadowy figure burst from the vehicle.

  “What now?” Gail asked with a snarl. Her face softened as she saw a familiar form struggle to pull himself up via the car door, his one leg trying to steady itself. “What the actual fuck?”

  “Good to see you too, mi amor,” Javier said softly. He stared at her with two blackened eyes. His nose now hooked slightly to the left. He looked at her bloody, torn dress and her hammer. “Am I to
o late to rescue you?”

  34

  “You should be careful, mi amor. He doesn’t have too much left in the tank,” Javier said, as their conscripted snack slumped in the back seat of the hatchback. Gail took one more slurp out of his elbow, then reluctantly injected him with a little more venom before dropping his arm.

  “What happened to your leg?” Gail asked flatly. She curled her hands around the head of her new best friend, the sledgehammer, while Javier drove them back into the Nashville city limits in the middle of the night.

  Javier smiled weakly. His knuckles turned white as he clutched the steering wheel. “Ever been in a fistfight with a pirate? It does not tend to end well. Mr. Sugar decided that it would be best if I stayed put, so the rest, as they say, is history. I am sorry that I was delayed.”

  “Delayed? Really?”

  “Are you sure there isn’t anything we need to cover up back at the old zoo—?”

  Gail flopped against the back seat and stared out the window. “I told you, I didn’t kill him,” she said softly. “As much as I wanted to, I settled for breaking both his legs, and his jaw, and possibly his pride.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Gail snarled, baring her fangs. “Unlike some vampires, I can control myself.”

  Javier gripped the steering wheel tighter. He kept his eyes locked on the road, driving them to a truck stop along the highway. Once safely parked behind a semi with a sleeping driver, Javier finally turned to face the blood-soaked, shaking Gail.

  “Say what you really want to say, mi amor,” he said with a sigh.

  Gail took a moment to check the vitals of the owner of the car. Once satisfied that he was merely unconscious and not in shock, she looked up and finally stared Javier right in the eyes.

  “My name is Gail.”

  “Please, do not look at me like that. You have to know that I had no choice,” Javier begged.

  “How much do you owe the sheriff?” Gail asked. “How much do you really owe her?”

  Javier couldn’t hold her gaze any longer. Instead he focused on the little hula girl figurine wobbling on the dashboard.