Unnaturals #2

by Devon Hughes

  “Are you sure you only got one shot, and all it did was make you a mutant?”

  “Yeah, that’s all,” Castor sniffed.

  “The kill drive started showing up in Bruce’s later serums, in a second test. It’s like a virus, but instead of getting sick, you go mad.”

  Castor went quiet. He’d seen other diseases like that. Years ago, several dogs in his pack had been bitten by rabid raccoons and had gone mad. Was this like that? Was he going to start foaming at the mouth, and feeling his blood heat up, fueling his fury? Was he really going to turn into Laringo? A true monster?

  Jazlyn didn’t think so. She must’ve seen the fear in the whites of his eyes, because she stepped close to his side and raised her chin to the other mutant. Castor knew that took some real courage for the notoriously meek bunny, and he was grateful to his friend.

  “You and Castor are a lot alike,” Jazlyn pointed out.

  “No, we’re not!” Kozmo and Castor said in unison, scrunching up their noses in distaste.

  The rabbit-panther loped around them in a circle, considering them from all angles. Castor didn’t appreciate the scrutiny. He felt like Jazlyn didn’t know him at all if she could lump him in the same category as this thing.

  “You’re both dogs,” she said.

  “That is not a dog, Jazlyn!” Castor protested.

  “Well, canine, at least. And you both have wings.”

  “A bat is hardly like an eagle,” Castor said. He ruffled his feathers and rolled his shoulders, extending his wings to their full span. He puffed his chest out proudly. “Eagles are majestic. Eagles are strong. Eagles are—”

  “Predators,” Kozmo interrupted. “Don’t they hunt bats?” Her beady eyes widened. “And hounds hunt foxes!”

  A city dog, Castor didn’t know much about foxes, but the fear on this one’s face was pretty satisfying. Castor couldn’t resist stirring it up a little more. “Maybe you should run, then,” he growled.

  But another growl bounced back to him in the cave, sounding much more like a roar. Castor felt the fur along his spine stand up, and he suddenly had the feeling that eyes were watching him in the darkness—pale, round tiger eyes with pupils no bigger than a speck.

  “Maybe you should run,” echoed a familiar voice.

  Castor’s blood ran cold. It was impossible. Castor had watched the light post tip over in the Dome. He’d heard the crunch. He’d seen the scorpion tail twitch from beneath the pole’s weight and then lie still. Yet here his old rival was, back from the dead.

  Truly invincible, despite all odds.

  “Laringo.”

  37

  KOZMO BLINKED IN SHOCK. BEFORE HER STOOD THE MOST terrible thing she had ever seen. His body seemed as big as a train car. The powerful muscles of his shoulders rolled as he walked. His yellow teeth gleamed. His white-striped fur rippled. His segmented tail dangled its deadly stinger.

  Behind him, nearly a dozen lesser mutants fanned out. Kozmo recognized some of these creatures from the white room—a hippo-headed wildebeest, a grinning horned hyena. All of them were fearsome, but none compared to the horrible creature at the helm.

  The other animals seemed to recognize the scorpion-tiger.

  “How did you survive?” Castor asked, clearly baffled. “We saw the pole fall on you! And what are you doing here? Did you change your mind? Do you want to join us?”

  While Castor pelted the tiger mutant with questions, Runt cowered behind his brother, and Jazlyn was frozen in place and quivering all over. Kozmo didn’t blame them.

  But though her friends recognized the alpha animal, he most certainly did not recognize them. The tiger’s eyes were glassy, vague, and rage filled. He didn’t even seem to recognize the name they were calling him: Laringo.

  This was the same scorpion-tiger Kozmo had seen Vince bring into the room—the one Bruce and the woman had talked about sending after her. But while it had seemed tame then, walking on a leash and lowering its head for the red-haired woman to pet it, now that she was seeing it up close and in kill drive, this mutant seemed like a man-made disaster. One part scorpion, one part tiger, one dark heart beating hatred with each breath.

  “He’s had the serum shot,” Kozmo told them confidently. “He won’t be . . . however you remember him.”

  “He wasn’t much fun before,” Castor admitted.

  There was something about his eyes that was hypnotizing, that froze Kozmo right in place.

  He wasn’t looking at her, though. He was looking at . . . the wall? No, it was Flicker. The lizard had camouflaged herself so she was the exact shade of mottled gray-brown as the ceiling. She seemed to disappear and reappear so unexpectedly that Kozmo had forgotten she was with them. The scorpion-tiger had no trouble honing in on her, though. The lizard lifted her head and peered back at him with something like . . . tenderness.

  “Master said not to hurt you,” the tiger-scorpion purred.

  Well, that’s reassuring, Kozmo thought.

  Apparently it didn’t apply to everyone, though, because he turned away from Flicker, and the claws came out.

  The hyena mutant leapt at her, and Kozmo ducked quickly. Then she sprang up just in time to miss a horn to the gut.

  The tiger was stabbing his spiked tail down forcefully at the rabbit-panther, who had been jarred into action and was running circles around the snarling group. There seemed to be a deadly mutant in all directions. They had to get out of this cramped space, or sooner or later someone was going to get unlucky.

  Kozmo snapped her wings out, and almost crashed directly into the eagle-dog. He was soaring under the arch toward the escalators with Runt in his grasp, and then she glimpsed the swish of Jazlyn’s long tail as she darted out toward the exit with the lizard on her back. That woke Kozmo up.

  Just as the circle of dead-eyed villains started to close around her, Kozmo launched her body forward, slicing the air sideways with her wings and squeezing between them. She careened through the once-grand halls, letting out little hiccupy squeaks of terror despite her efforts to stay focused and brave.

  Where were Runt and the others?

  The hallways were dead ends, cul-de-sacs of boarded-up stores. A vision of the snake begging, “Out! Let me outside!” flashed in her memory, and Kozmo wondered if this advanced super mutant and his team were what the serpent had been trying to escape. Kozmo had to get back to the tunnels, at least, where in the twisting darkness she stood a chance at losing them.

  Kozmo zoomed down toward the old subway platforms as Laringo and the other mutants pursued close behind. That she could fly was her one advantage, and as she sailed close to the slanting ceiling, the snarling beasts shoved onto the moving stairs all at once, forming a bottleneck.

  Buying herself a few extra seconds, Kozmo dove under the plastic arm of one of the rusted-out ticket scanners. The hyena let out a high laugh that made her heart race. She fled toward the old platform, then used her hind fox feet to spring up, flinging herself onto the rusted tracks.

  She flew through the tunnel, but the ceiling was low and her pursuers were tall. If they caught her, the leader could bat her out of the air with a swipe of his paw. It felt like only a moment before they were gaining on her again. Laringo trailed farthest behind; there was no urgency to the tiger-scorpion’s movements, and that was even scarier. He took his time, stalking her with his slinking gate, as if he would catch her eventually, no matter how long she was able to stall.

  At the next fork, Kozmo veered right, and her breath caught as something grabbed her and snatched her off the path—something scaly. Curling around her middle, the lizard’s tail yanked her into a divot hidden in the darkest shadow of the track.

  Kozmo could hardly see, but she could feel the other animals around her—the giant lizard, Runt and his brother, the rabbit-panther—the warmth of their fur, their hot breath crowding close. After spending most of her life away from others, their touch made her feel nervous and safe at once.

  “What are we going to do?�
� someone whispered.

  “Can’t we just stay here?” another, higher voice that sounded like Jazlyn’s suggested.

  “They’ve got our scent. Even if they pass us, it’s only a matter of time before they loop back.” That was Castor, pessimistic as ever.

  “Maybe they’ll give up,” Kozmo said.

  “The Invincible never gives up. That’s why he keeps winning.” That was Runt.

  “So what do we do when they get here?”

  “I’ve fought Laringo before.” Of course, that was the eagle-dog again, bragging like a fool.

  “So now you want to fight ten of them?” Kozmo challenged.

  “You have a better idea?” Castor grumbled.

  She did, actually. When she’d flown in with Runt, they’d crossed a sort of underground river that flowed into a wide pipe.

  “Follow me,” Kozmo said, and to her surprise, they actually did. Peering around for any sign of Laringo and his pack, she crept out of the hiding place and stealthily led the others through the darkness.

  “That’s a sewage pipe,” Castor said when they got there, wrinkling his nose.

  These NuFormz mutants were extremely delicate, weren’t they?

  “It’s a way out of this,” Kozmo said bluntly.

  “Yeah, we might lose them for a minute, but Jazlyn and I saw where the pipes empty out.”

  “There’s a long drop into a waterfall,” Jazlyn explained, her voice grave. “We couldn’t even see where it ended.”

  “So?”

  “So, I don’t want to drown!” Castor huffed. “And I don’t want to hit whatever’s at the bottom, either.”

  Not for the first time, Kozmo thought that this eagle-dog wasn’t very bright. “You won’t even hit the water. You have wings. When the water drops, you fly.”

  “Runt can’t fly. Jazlyn and Flicker can’t fly.”

  Kozmo had to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

  “So when you fly, grab someone.”

  Jazlyn gulped and shrank down. She looked queasy at the thought.

  “Those mutants aren’t just going to jump into the pipe after us.”

  “They’ll jump after me, though,” Flicker said, slithering up beside them. “It’s me they want.”

  Although Kozmo had heard the lizard’s voice during her spying, it was the first time the lizard had spoken in front of anyone but Runt, and she saw the other animals start at the strangeness of her accent.

  They seemed reluctant to trust her suddenly—especially given this new information that she was the one the mutants were hunting—but silhouettes began to appear down the tunnel, their jerky forms falling into a line as they got closer, and soon there wasn’t a choice.

  Kozmo waited until the last possible second to yell, “Now!”

  She leapt into the filthy water first, the current taking her too quickly to turn around, and soon she was in the utter darkness of the pipe. Her stomach dropped as it took a sharp turn down, and she gasped for air as, again and again, the waves splashed over her head. She couldn’t see where she was going or who was behind her until, suddenly, there was a faint circle of light, and she was airborne.

  Hearing Jazlyn scream, Kozmo darted down and grabbed the long-eared cat by the scruff of her neck. Seconds later, Castor had snatched Runt, and they were all floating just above the spray of the falls.

  Then, sure enough, the pipe spit the zombie mutants out, and one by one, they fell. When at last Laringo’s broad, white head bobbed to the end, the tiger mutant let out a yowl and gripped the lip of the pipe with all of his claws. His body blocked the dam for a few futile seconds, but the water found its way around him, seeping through the cracks as the pressure built. Finally, there was a rushing sound, and Laringo burst forward into space, with no one to catch him. They watched the most terrifying mutant fall, end over end, stinger over maw, to whatever awaited him, all the way down.

  “It worked,” Castor breathed, his eyes bugging as he looked down after Laringo.

  “Of course it did,” Kozmo said, though she hadn’t been so sure until the very last second.

  38

  OTHER THAN HIS SECRET SLEUTHING, MARCUS DIDN’T HAVE a lot going on these days. He was thrashing around his room listening to Doomspeak when his door clicked open an inch.

  “Marcus . . .”

  “Mom!” He jumped to slam it closed. He might be grounded, but they had agreed that this was his personal space. If he wanted to jump on his bed like a five-year-old and sing at the top of his lungs, he didn’t want to worry that someone was just going to barge in and laugh at him.

  “I got sick of knocking.” Her voice was annoyed. Though there were many times in the past that his mom had said she preferred to have him home, since he’d been grounded and the city was on lockdown, he knew that they’d both gotten on each other’s nerves. “I said your friend is here.”

  Friend?

  Marcus clicked off his inner-ear speakers and yanked the door open the rest of the way. Next to his mom was a girl with tanned skin, a blue streak of hair, and an uncomfortable expression.

  “Leesa.” Marcus blinked in surprise. They’d been in touch pretty much every hour since the visit to the prison, but Marcus hadn’t expected her to visit him all the way from the Drain.

  “Hey.” She gave a little wave, fanning her fingers.

  There was a beat while they all just stared at one another. Marcus felt intensely aware of how gross his shaggy hair must look from all the headbanging, and he realized he’d been sweating. Did his pits stink? Could she smell them? He tried to inhale deeply to check, but he knew he must look weird dipping his nose down like that, so he stopped. Now he was standing weirdly straight, wasn’t he? He slouched his shoulders down, but that felt forced. Jeez, he was such a weirdo.

  “Marcus?” his mom said. She was totally smirking.

  Leesa looked past him expectantly. “Can I come in?”

  “Uh, yeah. . . .” Marcus had never had a girl in his house before. Actually, he’d never had any friend over before.

  Marcus glanced at his mom sidelong for permission. These days, she was spending most of her time worrying about Pete, so she’d gotten pretty lax about his grounding. Still, he was shocked she’d let Leesa through the front door. As a rule, his mom distrusted people from the Drain, and this was the girl he’d gotten into so much trouble with.

  His mom crossed her arms. “Is your room clean?”

  “Of course.”

  That was definitely not normal, and her forehead creased as she considered. Then she let out a big sigh. “Just don’t tell Bruce, okay?”

  She’d started to say that a lot lately. Bruce had been spending more and more time away from the house, and when he came home he looked haggard and acted even more irritable than usual. Marcus was totally fine with hardly seeing Bruce, but he could see the stress lines on his mom’s face starting to deepen. Sometimes they fought about Pete, and sometimes he heard her crying in the bathroom—it was part of why he played his music so loud. It also helped to muffle his own worries, which seemed to get louder every day.

  “I can’t believe you actually have your own room,” Leesa said, walking in.

  Marcus shut the door behind her.

  Leesa was craning her head around, taking everything in. He saw her looking at the warp screen that took up one whole wall. She took in his sound-blast system, his game vest, his cloud bed.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” she said, her mouth hanging open.

  Marcus couldn’t tell if it was in awe or disgust.

  At the Skypark, the boys all bragged about the new tech. There were plenty of times that Marcus had wished he had the newest warp throne, or some stupid simulink upgrade. For the first time, Marcus felt embarrassed about all he had instead of all he didn’t.

  “My parents like to buy me stuff so they can avoid actually talking to me,” Marcus joked with an awkward laugh.

  “I don’t get to talk to my mom much, either,” Leesa said.


  There was a tinny barking sound, and Marcus’s automapooch almost rolled over Leesa’s foot.

  “What’s that?”

  “Zippy. They got him for me after I freaked out about the Underdog. Like it was going to just make me forget about the Unnaturals.” Marcus rolled his eyes. “I programmed him to clean so I don’t have to.” He grinned conspiratorially, but Leesa didn’t look impressed.

  “Cool, so you freed mutant animals just to make a robot animal your slave?”

  Marcus faltered, but when he looked at her, Leesa’s mouth formed the tiniest smile. She was teasing him. She bent down and let the robot’s nose sensors imprint her scent. It licked her hand, and Leesa grinned.

  “Sorry to show up like this. It just seemed easier than trying to, like, pass secret messages through Joni or something. I figured the worst your parents could do was send me away. Where’s Mr. Friendly, anyway?”

  “Who, Bruce? Job hunting, supposedly.” Based on the conversation he had heard, Marcus doubted that was true. “I broke into his office, but didn’t find anything.” Marcus didn’t mention the family photos.

  “He’s probably with Vince.” Leesa’s mouth twisted. “Bruce and Vince are working together on something. What do you think that means?”

  “I’m not sure. Did Antonio say anything else?” Marcus asked, trying not to let his voice betray his jealousy. He couldn’t believe Leesa was talking to that loser again after what he’d done.

  “No.” Leesa plopped onto his cloud bed with a huff. She shrugged. “He wouldn’t tell me anything unless I agreed to be his girlfriend.”

  The moment seemed to stretch on forever, with just the sound of Zippy rooting around in his laundry. Marcus felt his face grow hot.

  “And you . . . didn’t?”

  “No! Obviously.”

  Marcus felt more relieved about that than he wanted to admit. Leesa must’ve caught him grinning, because she was glaring at him now, her own cheeks red.