by Jeff Sampson
He pressed the corner of the monitor and it buzzed on. Like with the video he’d shown me on the tablet two nights before, the image was of static and liquidy bands of color fading into and colliding with one another. Like bad radio reception, whines and crackles came from the speakers.
Ever so distant, I could barely make out a female voice say, “Hello?”
My dad, who seemed to be doing his best to hide in the corner farthest from me, visibly stiffened. Pulling his hat onto his head, he shuffled closer to the rest of the group.
Just like in the video, a vague, human shape appeared in the midst of the staticky murk. As though someone was sketching her into existence, dark lines appeared showing my mother’s features. Next to her, a darker gray shape also shaded in—a man around thirty, wearing glasses.
Someone grabbed my hand. I looked down at it to see Tracie’s fingers threaded through my own. I could feel her trembling as she watched, wide-eyed, as her father appeared on-screen.
“Are we on?” my mother asked, her voice clear now. A muffled voice that sounded like Jones-from-the-speaker gave her the affirmative, and she smiled at the camera.
Behind her and Tracie’s dad, I could make out the outlines of tall, spindly towers and giant machines hovering in the air. But they were just ideas of a world, barely there.
“Caroline,” my dad said softly, so softly there was no way she could hear.
Near him, Mrs. Townsend turned away from the screen, her arm over her face.
“We’re here,” Mr. McKinney said, his voice much too loud. “Caroline, Thomas, can you see us?”
Mr. Townsend frowned. “No, sir, we cannot. But we can hear you fine.”
Part of me was disappointed. Part of me wanted her to be able to see me standing there, even as hazy and indistinct as she was to me, just so she could see the girl she decided wouldn’t be good enough without her meddling with my entire self first.
But another part of me was glad that she wouldn’t be able to see the hurt and anger and longing on my face.
“Are they there?” my mother asked.
Gently letting go of Tracie’s hand, I stepped close to the screen so that the gray-shaded images of my mom and Tracie’s dad were all that I could see.
“I’m here,” I said. “This is Emily.”
“Is Tracie there with you?” Mr. Townsend asked.
I looked back at her. She shook her head, then looked down at the floor.
Turning back to the screen, I said, “She doesn’t want to talk, Mr. Townsend. Sorry.”
He didn’t respond. His features went still, cold.
“Emily, oh, it’s me, it’s your mom,” my mother started. “I don’t even know where to begin. I’ve been waiting to talk to you for so long, I—”
“That’s great,” I snapped. “Wonderful. I’m glad you wanted to talk to me instead of abandoning me to go off to some crazy dimension and do experiments. But wanting to is not the same as doing. As far as I’m concerned, the only mother I have is Katherine. You, Caroline, are just some woman who messed with my body and mind without me having any say.”
Everyone in the room fell completely silent. My mother—Caroline—on the screen sat there, mouth agape, speechless.
“I have questions,” I said.
“Emily,” Caroline pleaded. “I don’t know what anyone has been saying, but—”
“Question one: Why wolves? It’s not a huge deal.” I shrugged, even though she couldn’t see me. “But, y’know, just curious.”
The shadowy form of Mr. Townsend stepped in front of Caroline.
“There are certain species that can perceive those on the other dimensional planes,” he answered. “You ever notice a house pet stare at a corner or get spooked, as if something is there that no one can see? As we discovered, there is. Dogs are inbred, stupid creatures, so we went to their cousins instead—wolves.”
I shook my head. “Why was it so necessary for us to be able to perceive the dimensional things—the shadowmen, I take it? I thought this whole HAVOC project was just about making us super strong or whatever.”
No one immediately answered. I looked between the Holts and Mr. McKinney and the monitor. Just as I heard my mother start to stammer and give an excuse, Mr. McKinney interrupted.
“The ability to breach dimensions is the one thing the Akhakhu can’t do, Emily,” he said. “One of our directives back when we had yet to separate from our parent company was that we must find a way to interact with these beings, so as to help our trading of technology.”
It sounded reasonable. But it was still a half answer, just like everything I’d been getting in this place.
Letting my brain and Nighttime’s merge, I thought back to everything I’d seen and been told, both the truth and lies.
Dr. Gunther Elliott, BioZenith employee, discovered our existence and decided we needed to die before we could find “them,” as he’d said just before we killed him.
The cheerleaders were sent by their parents—surely scientists who worked for some other branch of the company BioZenith was once part of, based on the technology—to keep us safe and to keep us from doing…something.
Mr. McKinney had told me the other dimension was some sort of scientific utopia where the kindhearted Akhakhu wanted to enhance our species. Since we’re so deserving, I guess?
Evan described the devotion to the Akhakhu as almost religious—which fit with the way Mr. McKinney described their kindness and opulence. But when Evan slipped into the other dimension, he saw boil-covered humanoids in wastelands, not the magical mystery wonderland just on the other side of a rift in space and time.
The shadowmen I’d seen and interacted with ranged from observers to those actively out to get us—one even tried to get inside Megan’s body.
So which version of the shadowmen/Akhakhu was real?
How about both?
I mean, our world isn’t exactly homogenous. There’s the superrich in their metaphorical palaces. And there’s the poor, desperate destitute who would do anything to get out of their situation.
What better way for the upper class to abandon their dying world first than to make friends with a new species and then pressure them to find some way to make the portals between worlds go both ways?
It was then, standing there in the middle of that lab room, everyone watching me silently and no noise save for the hum of the computer towers and the crackling from the monitor, that the puzzle of BioZenith and the Akhakhu clicked into place.
Snapping back to attention, I looked at Mr. McKinney and smiled. “I figured it out.”
“What?” he asked.
“I know why you made us,” I said. Pacing back and forth, I let it fall free as it all came together. “You needed some way to interact with these Akhakhu on this side. Humans can’t perceive them, obviously, and I’m guessing the technology that lets you interact is inconsistent at best. You found out some animals can naturally see them, though, and so you decided to make the best of both worlds—humans with animal abilities.” I stopped and looked at my two pack members, Spencer and Tracie, who watched me earnestly. “You made us so you could help them. Only it turned out they aren’t exactly what you thought they were.”
From the screen, Caroline spoke, desperate. “Emily, you’re right. I’m so sorry.” She took in a shaky breath and her words spilled out, an almost unintelligible torrent as she tried to speak as quickly as possible. “Thomas and I are stuck here, and the only way they keep us safe is if we do what they say. But I’m not going to stand here anymore and let them force us to treat you like this. You are more important, Emily. Don’t let them destroy you!”
Muffling and shouts as someone dove toward the camera. As the image tilted I heard Caroline cry out one more time, “And don’t let them hurt your father! He didn’t know! He didn’t—”
Mr. McKinney slammed his palm against the corner of the monitor, and the screen went black. Half of the parents jumped at the noise.
I rounded on
him, shaking my head slowly. “Those rifts I see as a wolf, those are what the Akhakhu are after. They need them in order to completely slip from their world into ours. Only they can’t come through whole. They need a body—like the body of my friend, who I saw one try to possess.
“And Dalton,” I said, pacing once more. “I think I get why they took him: Those Akhakhu decided they were tired of waiting for you to help them cross over, so they found a way to drag Dalton into their dimension to put pressure on you to finally live up to your deal. I’m guessing they could take him because we’re the only ones who can see and interact with them. Probably not something you expected, huh? And that’s probably the real reason you decided to stop ‘observing’ and step in.”
Mr. McKinney glared, but he didn’t speak, letting me go on.
I stopped pacing. “And that brings it back to Dr. Elliott, doesn’t it?” I asked softly. “He found out about us and the real reason we were created: To help the Akhakhu take over people. And he figured the only way to stop it was to destroy us—the keys to the whole invasion.”
Eyes darkening, Mr. McKinney’s face lost any semblance of its cool. I met his glare with one of my own. “Yeah, that’s it, isn’t it?” I asked. “Maybe at one point you guys really were concerned with just making humans the best they can be. But going to other worlds, meeting incredible beings, that had to change some of you. Evan said his mom is a fanatic devotee of the Akhakhu. I’m betting some of you are, too. We may have been deactivated as babies to keep the bad members of the Akhakhu away. But I’m going to bet that the ones you worship are hardly any better.”
Mr. Holt sputtered. “Evan? You know about Evan?”
I smirked at him. “Oh, there’s a lot more I know, Mr. Holt. Thing about changing into a werewolf out of nowhere—it kind of makes a girl want to seek out some answers, you know?”
“You’re smart.”
Mr. McKinney’s tone blistered with anger. I turned my attention back to him as he sidled up to the desk beneath the monitor. Before I could do anything, he pressed another button on his desk.
“I admire that about you, Emily, I do,” he said. Nodding at my dad, he added, “Good job on this one.” Back to me. “My own son is an incredible athlete but I always did wish he was brighter. It’s almost as if we were prescient when we hard-coded you to be attracted to Spencer—the two brains of the pack should be together.”
Spencer’s brow furrowed and he stepped next to me. “What?” he asked. “What are you talking about?”
Mr. McKinney flicked his hand. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I was hoping you would cooperate with me without raising even more of a fuss than you already have. But it turns out we’ll have to take a harder tack.”
From the hallways, we could hear hissing as doors whooshed open, then rhythmic, steady boot steps as men ran down the hall. I turned and through the glass door and windows on either side I could see armed men storming down the halls to block any escape. Hovering above them were the same floating robots that we had faced when we busted into the lower lab.
“No,” my dad said. Louder, “No!” Grabbing Mr. McKinney’s arm, he shouted, “I didn’t agree to this! Not any of this!”
Mr. McKinney flexed his bicep and whipped back his arm. I couldn’t help but scream as my dad wheeled backward and slammed against a computer, shattering the glass of the monitor. Mrs. Townsend gasped and covered her mouth, while Spencer’s parents clung to each other.
I wasn’t sure yet if I forgave my dad for keeping secrets from me. But I knew in that moment that no matter what, no matter his faults or mistakes, he was still my dad. I still loved him.
And no one messes with me, my pack, or my family.
Clenching my fists, I stepped to stand face-to-face with Mr. McKinney.
“You,” I said, “just made a big mistake.”
11
JUST TWO LITTLE GIRLS AND A SHORT KID
I shifted into Nighttime so fast that Mr. McKinney never had a chance.
All over my body, my muscles tightened and stiffened with strength. My shoulders rolled back, my thighs tingled with power. I stood taller, straighter, seeming to grow as the adults in the room watched.
And for good measure, I unclenched my fists and let my fingernails grow into claws, like little daggers jutting from my cuticles.
Mr. McKinney held up his hands and took a step back. “Calm down, Emily,” he said. “We know your tricks. There is no way you’re getting out of here. Why make it worse for yourself and your father?”
I don’t like hurting people. Before, when I was full Nighttime or the werewolf, I could let myself get carried away with bloodlust. Now, I’d learned to weave my personalities together, to temper the worst urges and strengthen the best.
But that was before I’d seen my dad lay clutching his bleeding forehead.
My left hand whipped out. I grasped Mr. McKinney by both of his wrists and yanked his arms down. Then, lashing out with my other hand, I slashed four lines down his cheek with my claws.
He screamed. Pulling free from my grip, his hands shot to his face. Blood dripped between his fingers.
“You little bitch!” he roared.
Raising up my right leg, I shot out with my foot. It smacked against his chest and he wheeled back against the desk behind him, gasping for air.
Before he could move, I darted forward so that we were eye to eye, so close that our noses almost touched. I grabbed his face by his chin, my claws digging ever so lightly into his skin.
“Don’t you call me that,” I hissed. “And don’t you dare lay a hand on anyone else again. That includes your wife.”
He scowled, but didn’t say anything.
I plucked his keycard off his pants pocket where he had clipped it. Then, shoving his head backward, I let go of Mr. McKinney and spun to face my pack. Spencer and Tracie stood opposite each other, stoic. They both had the confident, tense posture of someone full hybrid.
“Let’s do this,” I said.
Tracie nodded, then turned to her mother. “Get out of here when you can, Mom,” she said. “Help Emily’s dad out.”
“All right,” she said, nodding vigorously. “I swear I didn’t know he was going to call the army, baby girl.”
“We didn’t either,” Mr. Holt said.
Spencer didn’t look at them. “Ready, Emily?”
I glanced down at my dad, who was now being tended to by Mrs. Townsend. She pulled a bright orange handkerchief from her bag and pressed it against his forehead.
“Ready.”
I strode purposefully to the glass door, Tracie and Spencer just behind me on either side. I waved the stolen keycard in front of the keypad, and the door hissed open.
On the other side, three dozen uniformed men raised their guns and pointed them at me. Above their heads, six hovering, mechanical orbs opened slots and pointed gun nozzles at us.
I couldn’t believe BioZenith would go to all the trouble to observe us and then lure us here just to shoot us dead if we acted out. So of course they wouldn’t—the guns definitely wouldn’t contain bullets. A quick glance at the spare magazines on some of the soldiers confirmed my suspicions were correct. Their ammo was tranquilizer darts.
I could work with that.
Shoving the keycard into my pocket, I stepped forward and then raised my hands, as though surrendering. A quick glance over my shoulder and I saw that Spencer and Tracie did the same. The glass door whooshed shut once we were all the way through, leaving our concerned parents and one very pissed-off Mr. McKinney behind to watch us.
“We’re here in peace,” I called out. “We don’t want to hurt anyone.”
A couple of the guards snickered. The guard directly in front of me—a woman with her helmet pulled low on her forehead—shushed them.
“Quiet,” she commanded, not taking her eyes off of me. “Remember the brief. These three are dangerous.”
“You can’t be serious,” a man over her shoulder said. “It’s just two little gir
ls and a short kid.” He started to lower his gun. “This seems a bit overboard, ma’am.”
The lead guard’s stern expression faltered. Her eyes darted, taking me in from head to toe. I let my claws shrink while she wasn’t looking, and then offered her a confused smile and a shrug when she looked back up at my face.
“Yeah, this is all some crazy mistake,” Tracie said next to me. “I mean, I’m class president! I’m not some sort of criminal.”
More and more of the guards lowered their weapons, and I could hear some of them talking in low voices to their neighbors.
The lead guard darted her head back and forth. Seeing her team lose focus, she raised her hand to get their attention. “Hold position!” she shouted. “I’ll call this in.”
She reached for a radio clipped to the side of her waist. Nighttime and Wolftime twitched inside me, desperate for a fight. But if we could slip out just by convincing these guards we were helpless children…
A loud thud behind me. Hands still raised, I looked back over my shoulder to see Mr. McKinney pressed up against the glass door. The entire side of his face was covered in red, and his eyes were enraged.
Pounding his fists on the window, he shouted, his voice muffled by the glass. “What are you idiots doing? I pressed the alarm! It’s them! Get them!”
So much for trickery.
The guard next to the lead guard raised his weapon, aimed it at me, and squeezed his finger.
I was too fast for him.
I was next to him in a flash. I gripped the barrel of the rifle in both hands. Just as he pulled the trigger, I yanked the gun to the side.
A loud pop. The lead guard’s hand leaped to her throat. For a moment the rest of the guards watched in shock as the woman’s fingers grasped at the red-feathered vial that had plunged into her neck.
“Get…them…” she gasped.
Veins and capillaries turned into glowing green spiderwebs on her face, her neck, spreading quickly from the tranquilizer dart’s point of entry. Then the lead guard’s eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed.