Unnaturals #2

by Devon Hughes

“That. There.”

  The vent? The one she hung from each time she went to sleep?

  “It blows cool air,” the creature started to explain, but the snake shoved her aside.

  The creature heard the skitter of tiny paws and realized the snake must’ve spotted one of the mice that lived on the other side. Was the snake planning to hunt now? It didn’t seem like the best time.

  The creature watched in horror as the snake began to smash her body against the vent. Bang! Bang! There was a dent, and then a screw came loose, and then the edge started to come away from the wall . . .

  And then came the sound of a key jiggling in the lock.

  Humans.

  Hearing two sets of boots instead of one, the creature knew that the other man, Horace, must be with Vince. That meant they’d brought a new animal today.

  The metal door swung open, and sure enough, Horace tromped in, round and red-faced, and Vince’s smaller, muscled body followed. They carried a cage down the walkway, its weight swaying between them.

  The creature’s eyesight was poor, especially in daylight, so she couldn’t see what was inside the cage. But the snake saw—she got a clear view of whatever was in that cage before the men were even aware she was in the room.

  “It looks like Castor, my old enemy,” the snake hissed with recognition, more to herself than the creature. “Like the shepherd dog before the mutation.”

  Moments ago, the snake’s face had been full of desperation. Now, as the creature watched, that expression changed. While it didn’t quite look like the kill drive—there was no foam coming from the snake’s mouth—there was definitely murder in her eyes. Her long body began to twitch, and the rattle made a shhhhhh that hushed the room.

  A shiver traveled down the creature’s spine and every mutant on the floor looked up. Soon the men would notice, too. The creature shrank back into the shadows in fear, but the flying snake paid no attention to the humans. Instead, all of her frustration and rage at not being able to find a way outside was redirected at the animal in the cage.

  “This is for your brother,” she shouted down. “For the stupid Underdog and his lies-s-s-s-s-s-s!”

  Then, abandoning all hope, the snake turned away from both the creature and the vent, tucked her wings in, and dove at the cage.

  3

  VINCE AND HORACE DIDN’T NOTICE THE DIVE-BOMBING snake until she was almost upon them.

  The creature let out an accidental screech in anticipation of the impact, and both men looked up suddenly, squinting against the bright lights.

  “What the—?” Vince gasped.

  Horace’s thick black eyebrows shot up his forehead in surprise. “How’d she get loose?”

  The creature shrank back behind a ceiling beam. Had they seen her?

  That’s all either of them had time to say, though. Then there was a terrific crash as the snake hit the cage head-on.

  The cage flew out of the men’s hands, somersaulting through the air. It clattered to the floor at the far side of the room, and upon impact, the door sprang open on its hinges, and the animal inside tumbled out.

  The creature peered around the beam. She saw a thin, mangy-looking dog lying still on the linoleum in front of the fence.

  Back near the entrance, the butterfly-snake lay limp near the dented cage, with a long gash on her head tearing some of her glossy scales. Her delicate wings were now torn and ragged.

  For a few long seconds, Vince, Horace, and both freed animals seemed too stunned to move. Then the door opened for the Yellow Six to file in with their supplies, and the whole room sprang to life.

  Vince’s Kill Clan mutants began flinging themselves against the metal fence in a frenzy, trying to get at the new animal on the other side.

  The injured snake darted between Vince’s legs to slither toward the dog, who was still sprawled on the floor.

  Both men reached for their pockets to retrieve golden whistles.

  The creature blacked out for half a second at the trill of the whistles—she had sensitive hearing, anyway, and the sound was so high-pitched that it was physically painful—but when she came to, the dog, roused by the whistle, was bounding toward the open door, the snake trailing close behind.

  Horace reached out a meaty hand and caught the dog by the scruff of its neck, but the snake didn’t stop. She didn’t seem to be aware of her shredded wings, the cut on her head, or even the men. Focused on her prey, she opened her jaws wide, as if she were preparing to swallow the poor dog whole.

  Just before she struck, Vince swiped a syringe dart of mutating serum from one of the scientists’ trays and flung it toward the trio in one smooth motion. The needle disappeared between the snake’s scales, and within seconds, the snake’s body stiffened and she abandoned her pursuit.

  Now that the excitement was over, the Yellow Six filed into the lab. Normally, the creature was asleep by the time the scientists began their rounds, and if she wasn’t, she definitely had no intention of venturing anywhere near to where they were working. Normally, she tried to stay as far away from the humans as possible, not to mention the other mutants.

  But today was not a normal day. This snake was special. She was from somewhere else—even if it was somewhere worse. The creature’s curiosity outweighed her fear.

  The creature unhooked her feet from the vent and flew across the ceiling, careful to stay in the shadows of the rafters. Then she crept down a pipe along one wall near the cages of untested animals.

  It was still pretty safe, she reasoned. The pipe was tucked behind a supply shelf, obscured from view. The lab tables were nearby, but the Six were busy setting up their equipment for now. The newer animals around the creature were focused on remaining silent in their cages and not attracting attention, and the Kill Clan was all the way on the other side of the room, behind the fence. Looking past the scientists, the creature still had a clear sightline of the men standing near the door with the snake.

  “Is that really the Cunning?” one of the Yellow Six called out.

  Vince nodded, flashing his teeth. “Sure is.” He grabbed a net off a hook near the fence and scooped up the writhing, wounded serpent. “Though the butterfly-snake ain’t that smart if she ended up here, if you ask me.”

  “No one’s asking you anything,” Horace grumbled, his attention divided as he struggled to hold on to the whining dog. “You just gave one of the mayor’s prized Unnaturals stars an extra shot of serum—unauthorized.”

  “Who knows?” Vince joked. “Maybe Bruce finally got the ingredients right and she’ll get a superhero upgrade. Be half human or something. Bet Mayor Eris would even give me a promotion.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe the snake will wind up like the others in your little Kill Clan. Worthless. You like to gamble, eh? What do you think those odds are?”

  Horace shouldered past Vince, dragging the dog behind him as he headed for the cages . . . and right toward the creature!

  He was sure to see her hanging here if he got much closer. The creature crept onto the shelving unit and crouched between the boxes, careful to keep her pale orange fur hidden under the shield of her wings.

  The shelf wobbled a little under her weight, and the creature imagined the boxes falling, the glass tubes and microscopes shattering, and all the humans running toward her at once. But she held her breath, and the shelf settled.

  Horace shoved the dog into Mai’s now-empty cage, and Vince hurried behind him, carrying the net. The creature was glad to get a better look at the snake, but that also meant she was closer to the humans than she’d ever been.

  She noticed that Vince had the sharp eyes of a predator, but the small, scrappy build of an animal regularly made to fight for his survival. Horace had fur on his face, hands as big as bear paws, and a stare that suggested his sting would be poisonous. The creature wouldn’t want to tangle with either of them, and she was already wishing she was back in her high perch, safe in her nest.

  But first she wished she could talk to the snake one
more time. The serpent seemed to know so many things that the creature did not.

  The things that the snake knew would soon be replaced with the familiar blankness of the rest of the Kill Clan, though. The snake wriggled and writhed, trying to escape the mesh, and the creature saw that foam was already gathering at her unhinged mouth. Her body was starting to mutate further, her scales taking on a strange glow.

  “What was in the mix this time?” Vince asked one of the researchers.

  “Jellyfish,” a woman in yellow answered.

  “What’d I say?” Horace said, gesturing at the net. “She’ll probably dissolve into goo now. Worthless.”

  “Doesn’t matter what happens to the Cunning, though, right? I mean, she wasn’t on the mayor’s winners list or anything.” Vince’s tone was light, but if there was one thing the creature knew how to spot, it was fear. “Right, Horace?” Vince pressed.

  “Yeah, maybe this mutant’s lucky,” Horace answered finally. “The rest of ’em are bound for the Mega Monster Mash-up to get slaughtered.”

  “What do you mean?” Vince narrowed his eyes, confused. “All of them? Again? Except the Underdog, right? You always said he could be a killer in disguise.”

  Horace grunted noncommittally.

  “Come on, Horace,” Vince pressed. “Do you know how much I have riding on the Invincible vs. Underdog match tonight? You owe me some intel.”

  Vince was always aggressive with the animals, but with Horace, the creature saw that he could be self-conscious, too. It was like he was puffing himself up or displaying all his feathers. Testing his boundaries.

  “Owe you?” Horace repeated. His red face flushed deeper, and he clenched his thick hands into fists. “I got you this gig, didn’t I? I’ve more than paid my debts.”

  The scientists eyed the arguing men and moved farther away from the cages, giving them space.

  “You said it would get my people out of the Drain,” Vince whispered loudly. “So far, it’s just cleaning up after zombies and ’roid ragers.”

  Horace shrugged. “Talk to Bruce. He’s working on the new serum. Until there’s some progress on that, your plans will have to wait.”

  “There’s always a new serum. Look around you. Every monster in this place is a failed experiment from one of his serums. In the meantime, give me something. Tell me what the Unnaturals odds are, at least.”

  “To get something, you gotta give something.” Horace looked away, bored.

  “Fine.” Vince cleared his throat. “Twenty percent of my winnings. I know the mayor doesn’t let you bet on the matches.”

  “Thirty,” Horace said sharply.

  “Deal. So what’s the scoop?”

  “The match tonight is cancelled. Eris decided to move up the championship instead—figured the people could use a fresh start. Let’s just say you’d be stupid to bet on either Team Klaw or Team Scratch in the Mega Mash-up.”

  “But if I were a betting man? Who does the mayor want to win? There’s gotta be a last monster standing, right?”

  “Well, it was supposed to be the Cunning . . .” Horace glanced at the glowing snake, now lying still inside the net. “But looks like you screwed that up.”

  The humans had talked about these Unnaturals matches before, about a fighting ring, about placing bets on one team or another, but the creature hadn’t realized they were talking about real animals outside the room until now. The snake knew about them—the snake had been one of them—but now the things the snake knew were melting away as the serum worked its way through her veins.

  That was warning enough, and the creature wanted to make her way back to her nest, where she would forget about the snake and everything else outside this room. But for now, until the men left, she was trapped.

  “Let’s just say you absolutely wouldn’t want to bet on the eagle-dog,” Horace continued. “With your buddies in the Drain complaining about food pills and overcrowding, the mayor thought an underdog beating the odds wasn’t the best message to send the ritzy sky people of Lion’s Head. Word is, that flying mutt’s number is up.” He dragged a thick finger across his throat.

  At Horace’s words, there was a sudden howl from Mai’s old cage. The dog had managed to stay quiet through the snake attack and everything that came after, but now he was riled up. And it seemed like he was in anguish.

  “Shut up!” Horace roared, slamming a boot into the side of the cage, but it only made the dog whine louder.

  “Hey, you.” Vince gestured to one of the Six, who glanced at him over the yellow mask. “Gimme a syringe. We need some more of that zombie juice.”

  “No, you don’t.” Horace leaned in close to Vince’s face. “You’ve done enough damage for one day. I’ve told you before, this is a lab, and it runs on order, not just pumped-up testosterone like your gangs in the Drain.”

  Vince clenched his jaw. It was an insult he would remember later. “You sound like that egghead Bruce.”

  “Yeah, well, call yourself Master of the Kill Clan all you want, but Bruce is the boss, far as we’re concerned, and you don’t give shots without his or the mayor’s say-so.”

  “So what am I supposed to do with this howling mutt?”

  Horace shrugged. “I look like I care?”

  “You’re the one who found him prowling around the Dome. Why don’t you take him up to NuFormz? If they’re starting fresh, they’ll need new Unnaturals recruits, right?”

  Horace shook his head. “They’re stopping the matches. The serums are too powerful now. The new mutants are too hard to control.”

  “I can control them.”

  Horace huffed. “Wait and see what Bruce says. Until then, he’s your problem.”

  The dog was the creature’s problem as much as Vince’s. His howls continued throughout the afternoon and kept all the human’s attention focused on the cages near where she hid.

  Finally, late in the day, Vince announced he was moving the dog to H-Ward. The scientists’ eyes shifted above their masks.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” one asked, clearly uneasy.

  “There’s a treatment going on,” another countered.

  “Bruce is the only one who goes in the H-Ward.”

  “It’s a stable environment, and we’re not supposed to—”

  “What, you all afraid of a kid?” Vince smirked. “Maybe Little Miss Sky Girl wants a friend. Anyway, I hear it’s soundproof.”

  The scientists shook their heads and clicked their tongues as Vince dragged the dog’s cage across the room toward the door with the big H on it.

  Now was her chance to get back to her perch, but the creature was so shaken from the day’s activities that she didn’t dare move from the shelf until the last human was gone from the room. She stayed crouched between the boxes of lab supplies for hours, her legs cramping up, waiting for this strange day to end.

  4

  THE WHITE DOOR MARKED H-WARD WAS NOT, IN FACT, soundproof. At least not for the creature. When Vince shoved the cage inside the room, the dog went right on crying, and when he closed the door behind him, he and the other humans didn’t seem to hear it anymore. But thanks to the creature’s sensitive hearing, the sound was only muffled a little bit. Hours passed, and the humans left, and the lights clicked off. And still, the dog howled. It was making another sound, too, a strange gargling that the creature found disturbing.

  The creature was used to unwanted sounds. The room was full of many mutants, and all day, their various noises would interrupt the creature’s dreams. The whir of fans was constant, the lights hummed with electricity, and music blasted through a loudspeaker, echoing around the walls. And some animal was always screaming for help, especially when Bruce came to visit. You couldn’t let yourself be bothered by each troubling sound, or you’d never get any rest.

  But all that noise happened during the day. At night, the silence was hers, and the creature needed peace to plan her traps. She needed quiet to hunt roaches.

  It had been a long, e
xciting day, and with all the commotion, the creature hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. Now, she was so tired she could barely think, and all the creature wanted was to quickly nourish her body and collapse into her nest. Yet the dog would not quit, so tonight, it seemed she’d have to settle for some easily snagged flies.

  She flew through the darkness, her strong wings and echolocation guiding her when her strained eyes could not, but she didn’t sense the movement of any tasty insects. That dog’s cries were even scaring off the prey!

  Agitated, the creature dove down to the floor and landed at a trot, snapping her wings in as her four legs padded quickly between the lab tables toward the door marked H.

  “Hey!” she yipped. “You in there!”

  The howls stopped for a moment, and the creature was startled by her own voice. She didn’t speak very often, anyway, and it was strange to be standing out here in the open talking loudly, even if the other mutants were asleep behind bars.

  “Listen, you need to stop all that yelling,” the creature said firmly, her voice lower now. “It’s not going to help you, anyway. The humans are already gone, and when they come back in the morning, the louder you howl, the faster they’re going to strap you into a harness and stick you with a needle.”

  Now the wailing resumed at full force, practically piercing her eardrums. She felt the sound reverberate inside her teeth.

  She guessed she had said the wrong thing.

  The creature tried to backtrack, making soothing sounds through the door, but it didn’t make any difference. He was inconsolable.

  Now some of the other mutants were starting to stir in their sleep, and the creature knew that if the Kill Clan got worked up at night, there would be bodies in the morning. After Mai, after the snake, she just didn’t think she could handle that right now.

  The creature swiped a clamp from one of the lab tables, and clenching the pincers between her teeth, she was able to turn the doorknob. With the door open, the dog’s cries were even louder, and so shrill she almost had to turn away. The creature quickly shut the door behind her before the other mutants woke up fully.