by T. D. Fox
“Stop!” Jasper yelled.
Courtney grabbed his arm. He half stumbled, bringing himself up short before he could break into a run. Across the square, the teenager disappeared around a corner. The child followed.
Jasper jerked forward a few steps, dragging her with him. The thieves’ quick footfalls faded. He stopped. The muscles in his arm were taut under her hand.
“Why did you do that?”
The speed of her heartbeat surprised her. She let him go. “They’re kids.”
“They’re breaking and entering!”
“You’re off duty.”
“I can still bring them in! She’s old enough to be tried for destruction of property and theft.”
“She had a child with her. Maybe she was stealing to take care of her.”
“A violin?”
“I don’t know what that’s worth on the streets. Maybe they’ll sell it to buy food.”
“Courtney, if they wanted food, they’d go to a soup kitchen. Those kids should be in a shelter or in child protective services. Not loose on the streets.”
She blinked. “Orion City doesn’t have CPS. That disappeared almost as soon as the Wall went up.”
His brow furrowed. “When we hand kids off after an arrest, I’m told they go straight to CPS.”
“They go to juvenile hall. Which is basically regular prison.”
“How do you know that?”
“Everybody knows that. All the old social service programs shriveled up and died after Quarantine. They had no accountability.”
Jasper raked a hand through his hair, swiveling on his feet as he stared at the edge of the square. “So you want me to just let them go?”
“They didn’t hurt anyone.”
“That’s not the deciding factor in a crime.”
“If it’s a crime to cross the line for someone you care about, then I’m as guilty as the next person.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about black and white, and how those colors don’t work on this city. There’s gray, and then there’s darker gray.”
“You’re talking like a criminal. Whatever excuse they use to justify their actions, it’s not enough. There’s no gray when it comes to the law.”
“Well, maybe the law’s not enough.”
“What?”
“If you have to break the law to do what’s right, maybe it should be broken.”
He turned to her. “Are you saying you’d break the law if the situation came up?”
“To protect someone I care about,” she declared. “I’d snap it in two.”
They stared at each other. His blue eyes burned. Hers probably didn’t look much different.
Before he could say anything else, the radio at his belt crackled.
“10-99. This is a Code Sigma. Officers report.”
Jasper’s face changed. His hand dropped to the receiver.
“Calling all units.” The voice buzzed again. “This is a Level Four Sigma. Respond immediately.”
He snatched it up. “This is Wade. 10-4.” He looked at her. All indignation in his eyes vanished, pushed out by a new look that made her nervous. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”
“What’s a Code Sigma?”
He shook his head. Ducking forward, he kissed her cheek. “Rain check on that movie, okay?” His eyes held hers. “And this conversation.”
She didn’t have time to respond, because he turned and took off at a jog in the direction they’d come. She watched him until he was out of sight. He never slowed his pace.
Frowning, she checked the time. She had several hours to kill before she’d even think about returning to her apartment. No work to speed the day along, and no Dina to make her apartment feel welcoming. Courtney sighed. As she wandered out of the square, she played with different scenarios for the meaning of Code Sigma. Rabid dogs. Blackstone escapees on Main Street. A gang of streakers. A cult uprising. Ironically, the more ridiculous it got, the less entertaining it became.
She felt shaky. As she exited the courtyard, she tossed her half-drunk coffee cup into a trash can.
“Wasteful,” somebody snapped.
She jumped. Turning, she scanned the empty square. She checked the alley at her back. No one.
“Up here.”
She looked up. Perched on a rusty fire escape, ten feet up, a girl crouched. Sleek black ponytail, sharp dark eyes swept up at the corners. She looked no older than sixteen. Courtney recognized the black hoodie.
“You lost the cop,” the teen said.
It wasn’t a hoodie, Courtney realized. What she’d assumed to be black skinny jeans and a tight jacket was actually a single suit, skin tight like nylon. It had a hood, which the girl had flipped back.
“I didn’t lose him,” Courtney said. “He got a call.”
“Uh-huh. Off to bust some more juvie-bound heads.”
Courtney looked around. “Where’s your friend?”
The girl’s eyes narrowed. “Safe.”
Courtney’s gaze dropped to the girl’s bare feet. A thick red slice ran down one pale instep. She’d cut herself on the glass from the shop window.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Why?”
“You have a—”
“Why’d you stop him?”
Courtney hesitated. “I don’t know. You had a kid with you.”
“That doesn’t matter on the streets. Or to cops.”
A sound farther down the alley turned both their heads. From behind a dumpster, the child from earlier stepped out. She held the violin.
“Oi,” the girl snapped. “I told you to stay back there.”
The child stood watching her, looking small in the familiar yellow peacoat. Ratty dark hair hung to her shoulders. Huge dark eyes fixed on her face.
Courtney stilled. “Margo?”
A hiss of disbelief. “You know Margo?”
She stared at the little girl. Margo stared back. The girl above them clicked her tongue.
“Whatever. Whoever you are, I just stuck around to say thanks.”
Courtney looked up again. “What’s your name?”
Narrowed eyes watched her. “Strings.”
“Like the word?”
“Got a problem with that?”
“I like it.”
The girl snorted. Swinging out with one arm, she hung on the edge of the fire escape, leaning out into the air.
“You should head to the other side of the city,” she drawled. “I hear Westside’s gonna heat up soon. Felt like I owed you the warning.”
She leapt. Twisting fluidly in midair, her black-clad body morphed into something much smaller. The Change was so seamless Courtney almost didn’t see it. A black cat dropped to the ground. Nylon fabric hung loose around its body, but didn’t fall off. Without a backward glance, it flicked its tail and trotted off to join Margo. The little girl turned and walked with it back up the alley, cradling the violin.
Courtney stood without blinking beneath the fire escape. Something deep within her screamed at her to follow them. Another Changer. Someone who hadn’t lost her mind, who seemed in control. She felt the tug like a string on her chest, pulling her after them. The same kind of string that tied her to something else, made her count days despite all her reasons not to.
The pavement anchored her feet.
⬥◆⬥
Courtney made it back to her apartment in a daze. Trudging up the stairs to her door, she cranked her key in the lock. Pushed it open. Shut it behind her.
Hours passed. Later, she’d have wondered what she actually did when she got home, because she wasn’t sure she actually moved from that doorway.
Not until she heard the knock.
It was soft at first. Dina didn’t knock. She barged right in. If it was locked, she yelled through the door. It wasn’t Jasper. Sirens still screamed, fading in and out a few streets down. Whatever urgent police business he had wasn’t ending anytime soon.
Th
e knock came again. Even fainter than the first. She wouldn’t have heard it if she wasn’t standing with her back against the coat wall, mere feet from the door. She turned and glanced through the peephole. In the warped fish-eye view, all she saw was the empty concrete landing.
This was it. She was going crazy. The shock of meeting a fellow Changer on the street, for the first time letting her mind run wild with the intoxicating idea that she wasn’t actually alone—there were other people out there who weren’t locked up in an AITO lab, who hadn’t lost their minds, weren’t using their abilities to terrorize the streets—it was too much. She could keep this Change buried on her own. But if she wasn’t alone? That spark of hope, of camaraderie, might ignite this fire she’d been scrabbling to put out. And it would burn down everything she had left.
The knock came again.
Steeling herself, she opened the door.
A crumpled figure leaned against the wall, braced against the doorjamb. A bright white lab coat, splashed in red—her stomach lurched. He almost fell forward as she opened the door. No wonder she hadn’t seen him. He was hardly standing, doubled over just out of range of the peephole. W looked up.
“Hi,” he said.
Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.
“Sorry to crash in on you like this. Believe me, if I had anywhere else to...” His face looked so white. “If I could think of...”
He pitched forward. Courtney caught him with a small cry, almost falling backwards at his unexpected weight. She heard his hand hit the doorjamb. His muscles shook as he tried to pull himself upright.
“Shit,” she gasped. “What’s wrong with you?”
Something hot and dark spread over her hands. The iron scent of blood invaded.
“Sorry,” he wheezed. His hand dropped from the door, leaving a brilliant red handprint.
“What happened?” she cried.
He laughed. A gurgling, horrible sound. His eyes fluttered shut. “Funny story...”
Sliding down the doorjamb, he collapsed in a heap on the threshold.
23. THE CHAMELEON
JASPER WADE NEVER set out to kill anyone.
The Glock 22 in his side holster was a prop—part of the uniform he strapped on every morning. He’d pull it out, on rare occasions. Hold it and point it at the ground as he jogged along behind his colleagues, only to put it back again the second they apprehended a perp. He’d never fired it on the job.
Not until today.
“Tell me again what happened.”
Jasper shifted on the chair in front of Commissioner Van de Graaf’s desk. “I thought Code Sigma was a story they told rookies to scare them,” he confessed.
The commissioner leaned back. His bushy salt-and-pepper mustache twitched. “I’m guessing you can see now it’s not.”
Jasper hesitated.
“Detective Wade,” the big man rumbled. “Every officer in this department adheres to a code of loyalty with our partner agency. We lay our lives on the line for them. They lay their lives on the line for us. If you have information about who may have just sabotaged the most important operation in this city, it’s your duty to come forward.”
Jasper gripped the bottom of the chair. He inhaled.
“Start at the beginning,” said Van de Graaf.
⬥◆⬥
Running. He was running. Flashing red lights scraped over him. The tinny blare of an alarm screeched in his ears. Gunshots echoed in the hallways. Up ahead, around the corner, a body lay sprawled on the ground. Jasper could just make out a bloodied pair of boots.
Secure the compound. Those were the last words Lieutenant Donowitz had shouted at him when he’d arrived on the scene, before she disappeared into the giant concrete compound, leading a team of black-vested SWAT.
More police men and women than Jasper had ever seen at OCPD had responded to the Code Sigma. They poured in from every side, guns drawn.
Jasper filed in with the rest of them. Uncertain what a Code Sigma actually entailed, he’d found two officers he knew and stuck with them.
“Wait,” Officer Patton hissed. She dropped to a crouch.
Jasper and Officer McCoy stopped with her. She pointed to the boots ahead.
“We shouldn’t all three go barreling around that corner. Wade, you take that hallway. McCoy and I will go straight.”
Jasper’s hands tightened on his gun. They shouldn’t split up.
“Donowitz said to secure every level before we rendezvous at the top,” McCoy said. “Move fast, and we’ll meet you there.”
Patton nodded. “Shoot anyone wearing gray.”
“Who’s in gray?”
“Changers.” She cocked her pistol with a sharp snap. “Don’t hesitate. They won’t.”
Jasper watched as they dropped to a half-crouch, running low over the concrete floor to the end of the hallway. Patton took the corner first. Gun extended, she peered around it. She motioned for McCoy to follow.
Jasper turned and faced the hallway. Narrower than the corridor around him, this one pulsed with a silent red glow. No deafening alarms. Dropping low, he jogged along the edge of the wall. Two more hallways branched off ahead. He picked the right one.
A screech exploded in his face. Feathers, claws, huge orange eyes. He almost dropped his gun in his hurry to shield his eyes. Talons ripped along his forearm. Cloth tore. Skin, too. With a hoarse yell, he stumbled back and lifted the gun.
The flurry stopped. A sharp shriek, a flutter of wind, and the winged creature flapped upward. Jasper turned just in time to see a massive owl soar over his head. It banked at the end of the hallway, then disappeared around the corner.
He stood panting. His arm stung. Yanking up his torn sleeve, he checked the flow of blood beneath. Two long, shallow tracks marked his skin. Not deep enough to slow him down. Jasper returned to a two-hand grip on his gun. He glanced back the way he’d come.
Changers.
Which meant... that was a person.
Shaking himself, he tightened his grip on the Glock and continued down the hallway. This was nothing new. Every other field assignment had pitted him against human targets. They were on the other side of the law. Freak superhuman genes changed nothing.
Again, he looked over his shoulder. McCoy and Patton’s footsteps had faded. He’d heard no gunshots, or sound of a confrontation. He couldn’t hear the sounds of other officers either. They must’ve cleared this level and moved on up to the next. Footsteps careful, Jasper reached a stairwell at the end of the hallway. He headed for the second level.
The minute he hit the stairs, the sharp splat of gunfire echoed from above. Level two. Jasper vaulted up the steps and crouched at the door. He edged it open.
Bodies littered the corridor. The stark white bars of the fluorescents cast crimson reflections on the stained concrete. The gunshots ceased. Movement at the end of the hallway drew his eye. A young man in a white lab coat ushered a group of—things—through a door ten yards down. A tiger. A bear. A crocodile, moving wickedly fast. Two men and a woman in gray jumpsuits. A gorilla.
The man in the lab coat waved the last one through the door. Then he walked through himself.
Jasper didn’t have time to think. He surged up and sprinted for the door, trying not to slip on the blood-slicked concrete. He caught it just before it clicked shut.
Snap. Crack. Bang.
Jasper flattened himself outside the door as more gunfire exploded. His fingers, wedged in between the jam and the latch, kept it from closing.
Yelling. Radio bleeps. Return fire.
His pulse spiked. Those were his people out there. And here he stood hiding. Wrenching the door open, Jasper stepped out into the hallway, gun first, half-covered by the door.
He took in everything in a blink. The badge-wearing bodies on the ground, two officers still standing. The Changers up ahead, disappearing through another door. An elevator. Three or four of the fugitives lay in crumpled heaps.
The policewoman still standing took a shot
at the man in the labcoat—leading the Changers. He ducked behind a dead gorilla. Then he popped up and shot her point-blank in the chest. She tumbled backwards.
“No!” Jasper yelled. He squeezed off a shot. His bullet flew wide.
“Wade,” shouted the remaining policeman. “Get down, there’s no cover—”
Bang. He fell, gun skittering across the floor.
Jasper looked up. The man in white had the semi-automatic trained on him. A clear shot to his face, even half-hidden behind the door. Jasper’s breath slid out.
Time stretched.
The bullet never came.
Lowering the gun, the man turned and disappeared after the rest of the Changers. The door hissed closed behind them, going up.
It took too long for the blood to return to his legs. Jasper vaulted into a sprint, threw himself against the elevator door. Rammed the button beside it. It didn’t open. He spun and ran back to the stairwell. He’d cut them off on the third level.
At the third landing he braced himself, trigger hot under his finger. No gunfire echoed. He emerged onto the third floor. A group of officers—his unit—stood interviewing a man in a lab coat. The guy slumped against the base of a wall, blood splattered up his collar, glasses askew. A cop knelt, applying pressure to his shoulder. Jasper spotted Patton and McCoy.
“Evan Grimes,” the scientist panted. “He flipped out of nowhere. He’s in league with them—the theriomutants, the freaks—he said jump, and they jumped.”
“He’s the one setting the Changers loose?” Patton asked.
“Yes,” the man gasped. “He’s a top doctor’s assistant. He has clearance to every sector of this building, including all the subject wards.”
“Someone has to shut down his clearance from the top.”
“Almost everyone with the codes to do that is dead. Anyone left is hiding up in the control room.”
“Where is that?”
“Sixth level.”
Patton straightened. “McCoy, take these two and clear the levels between us and sixth. You three, come with me. Wade!”