Changeling Dawn

by Dani Harper

  “A medicine bag?” asked Josh. The traditional protective talisman was common to many Native American cultures, including his own. The bags usually held sacred herbs, stones, feathers, and other found objects.

  Birkie patted his arm. “Not exactly. I guarantee they’re not just decorative, son.”

  “Hey, I’ll take any help I can get,” he said as he slipped the cord over his head and tucked the pouch beneath his shirt and T-shirt, next to his skin. “Thanks.”

  “Once we’re inside, don’t talk above a whisper if you can avoid it,” continued Culley. “We don’t want to take a chance on anyone’s voice patterns getting recorded. And glove up. No prints.”

  The six of them took to the forest, following a narrow game trail through the thick brush until they came within sight of the gate. Birkie and Stanton dug in on the southwest side, hiding themselves at the edge of the treeline where they could watch anyone entering or leaving. The rest slipped quietly around the western perimeter of the compound, using the forest as cover.

  The compound was more oval than square, following the natural terrain. Cutting off the corners made the distance much shorter on paper, but it sure didn’t feel like it, thought Josh. It had taken forever to hike around to the north side where the wind turbine loomed over the power shed. Culley surveyed the high metal fence critically, then walked back to the treeline without a word. When he reappeared, he was dragging a huge log. Josh and James helped him position it upright about four feet from the fence—then let it go. A shower of sparks crackled and sprayed in all directions like fireworks as the log toppled onto the mesh. Parts of the timber blackened and caught fire and Josh was grateful that nobody had touched the fence—this was no wildlife deterrent but a full-fledged anti-personnel device designed to disable intruders.

  Devlin, who was watching the compound from beneath a thicket of huckleberry bushes about forty yards further down, had a clear view of the front of the main building and signaled that they were clear. The power shed, the size of a city bus and located about ten feet inside the fence, was shielding them nicely from any IBC eyes, and the deep twilight would make it difficult for any casual glances to see the smoke. Particularly when the main building had no windows on this side.

  A few moments later, Culley poked at the fence with a stick, then slapped it with his hand. “It’s shorted out. Let’s chop through it.” James set to work with bolt cutters and started taking out a large chunk of mesh about six feet tall and almost as wide.

  “I don’t know about you, bro, but the rest of us could fit through a way smaller hole,” said Culley.

  “We’ve got a dozen people to rescue plus ourselves,” James whispered fiercely. “If something happens that we have to get out of here in a hurry, I’d rather not try to do it single file.”

  “Wait.” Josh pulled out his field glasses. He had a clear view of the ATV shed on the northeast and the dog runs between it and the garage. No animals were visible. Maybe they were sleeping, but it seemed unlikely. He held a hand to his ear where his headset nestled under the gray and brown camo fabric and spoke to Devlin. “How many ATVs do you count over there?”

  “Five.”

  “Dogs.?”

  “Dogs?”

  “None.”

  “We’ve got issues then.”

  As if on cue, Stanton hailed him. “Heads up, Tark. Got a guy coming up the road with a herd of dogs the size of ponies following him. He’ll be at the gate in about ten.”

  Shit. The handler would have to bring the dogs all the way across the compound to their pens—and the animals were bound to sense the presence of intruders. “We’re going to have to pull back,” said Josh.

  “We can if you want us to, boss,” Culley said, helping to pull the mesh out of the way as James continued to cut the fence as if nothing was wrong. “But Birkie can handle the dogs.”

  “Birkie?” What the hell was a little old lady going to do? But then Josh remembered that strange silvery aura ... He belly-crawled over to Devlin, reaching his hidey-hole just as a pinging sound from across the compound signaled that the gate was opening. Both of them trained their glasses in time to see a man on an ATV come into sight on the road. There were at least six dogs trotting beside him, maybe seven—and the old vet had been right; they looked huge, even from Josh’s vantage point.

  Suddenly an enormous mule deer, a pale buck with antlers like tree branches, leapt directly into the path of the vehicle and sprang straight up and over the head of its driver, who barely had time to duck. The big animal hit the ground running and bounded back down the trail at top speed. Every dog wheeled and followed the creature, barking madly. Their handler jumped off the ATV, waving his arms and shouting, but the dogs didn’t return. He stood there for a long moment, then drove the ATV into the compound, parking it beside the gate and walking into the main building.

  Josh returned to Culley, not quite sure what he’d just witnessed. “She’s not—you’re not telling me that was Birkie, are you?”

  “Hell no,” he chuckled. “She’s not a shapeshifter. But that lady has some pretty impressive talents. Don’t know where she found the deer or how she persuaded it to pull that stunt, but it’ll keep those dogs busy for hours. Who knows, the gate might be left open for them tonight and we won’t even have to use this fine doorway we’re making.”

  Josh fingered the little leather pouch around his neck that Birkie had given him. She’d said it wasn’t decorative—did he really want to know what it could do? “Let’s keep an eye on the ATV just the same. The guy might go back for it and put it away.”

  “That’s got it,” said James suddenly and helped Culley pull the rest of the cut mesh clear of the hole they’d made. Josh checked his watch. Twenty-two hundred. Two more hours to maximum dark and they could enact their plan. Fortunately, the thick cloud cover was helping to dull the perpetual twilight of the northern night and the moon would be well hidden, at least for a while.

  Devlin remained on lookout while the rest of them retreated to the cover of the treeline for the hardest part of the operation.

  Waiting.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Nikki was back for her late evening rounds, accompanied by one of Gessler’s men. Her face was dark with anger, and the security guard was armed to the teeth—no question about how the young vet’s visit with her boss had gone.

  Kenzie sighed inwardly. When were they going to catch a break? She couldn’t just sit on her hands and wait to be rescued. And there was no guarantee that any rescue attempt would work. Not with someone like Gessler around.

  “Hey, how’s Dempsey?” Roy called out to the veterinarian.

  “No talking,” shouted the guard, brandishing a dart pistol. “Not a word out of any of you.”

  Nikki went from cage to cage with a small cart, carefully pulling out bones and used dishes and replacing them with clean bowls. She paused in front of Roy’s cage, and a tear ran down her face. “Dempsey didn’t make it,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry—the doctor and I both worked on him, but they wouldn’t let us fly him out. And then he was gone.” Several more tears followed the first.

  The guard took a step forward. “You can’t talk to the subjects, Dr. Yeung,” he said, almost apologetically. “Orders.”

  “They deserve to know what happened to their friend, Carl,” she retorted, sniffing as she moved to Kenzie’s cage. She removed the old dish and picked up the last of the clean bowls in her hands. Before she set it in place, however, she rubbed its stainless steel side with her fingernail ever so lightly. The sound was faint for human ears, but Changeling senses picked it up easily. When Nikki and the guard had left, Kenzie resisted diving for the bowl, knowing that the cameras would pick up whatever she did.

  Roy stood clutching the front of his cage, leaning his head against the mesh with his eyes closed.

  “I’m so sorry about Dempsey,” she whispered. “It’s horrible, especially with help so close at hand.”

  He shoved himself upr
ight and appeared to pull himself together. “Thanks, but Gessler is the one who’s going to be sorry. I don’t know how, but the bastard is going to pay for this. What did you get from Nikki?”

  “I don’t know yet. I have to figure out how to grab it without being filmed. I’ll bet Gessler is actively monitoring every one of these damn cameras now.”

  “Maybe we should give him a show then.”

  “A diversion?”

  He waggled his brows and whispered to his cell mate on the other side. The message got passed on down until it reached Shaggy Sam and Dan. A few minutes later, the pair of them began a wild air guitar rendition of a Metallica song—with full volume vocals.

  “They’ve done this before,” she chuckled.

  Roy rolled his eyes. “Sadly, yes. But if Gessler has this room bugged, he’ll never hear us now. And if anyone but him is watching the monitors, they’re likely to watch the more interesting prisoners instead of us.”

  Suddenly howls and low drawn-out cries could be heard from somewhere beyond the massive room that housed the Changelings.

  “Sounds like the wolves are singing along,” said Roy.

  “Maybe they’re trying to help us. Or maybe they don’t like the playlist. Why the hell does IBC have real wolves?”

  “They’ve got a dozen of them somewhere in the east wing. We think they keep them for comparison to us, maybe going through our bodies with a fine-toothed comb, searching for differences of any kind, including a way to identify us by our genes.”

  Kenzie shivered. “Now I want to howl too.”

  She sat beside the broad metal dish hanging low to the floor in its bracket and faced the wall that separated her from Roy. “Sit down here like we’re talking or something.”

  He knelt close to the mesh. “Can you reach under the dish?”

  “In a minute. We need to look like we’re having a conversation so they’re not watching my hands.”

  “Ah. I’ll be Italian then so they’ll watch mine,” Roy said and began making hand movements as if explaining something. Gradually Kenzie squeezed her fingers between the dish and the floor and felt around until she found a tiny paper bundle attached to the bottom with what was probably duct tape. Dan and Shaggy Sam had moved on to cover Ozzy Osbourne before she was able to peel the little prize free. Carefully she gripped a corner of it between her fingers and turned her hand palm down. A moment later, the hand was in her pocket, where the treasure was deposited.

  “So far, so good,” said Roy. “I don’t see any goons busting down the door to search you.”

  “Now all I have to do is figure out where the blind spots of the camera are.”

  “Easy. We figured that one out months ago. Guillermo used to install those things for a living.”

  With his guidance, she moved to a spot near the opposite corner. “Here goes.” She pulled out her contraband and peeled the duct tape away to reveal a tiny envelope, containing far more than she had dared hope for. In it was a pair of key cards, what looked like a car key, and a series of numbers on a sticky note—a combination?—with a memo that read “cub on 2nd floor, unit 9.” “Nikki really outdid herself.”

  Something Josh had said ran through her mind—We should be pulling together, not pulling apart. Now Kenzie had the means to make a contribution to the rescue effort.

  Josh studied the sky with satisfaction. It was nearly mission time and they’d have ample darkness to be able to use their NVGs—night vision goggles—inside the facility. Or rather, he would. Culley had explained to him that none of the Changelings would require the equipment, since they possessed natural night vision even in human form. He rolled his eyes, wondering if perhaps Kenzie saw humans as an inferior species. He’d bet that Nate Richardson did. The Macleod brothers seemed different, however. They’d accepted his plan and his leadership without a hitch, even James, even though none of them struck him as a natural follower. It had surprised him—after all, in human form the brothers were stronger than he and had enhanced senses. And in wolfen form, they were far more powerful than he could ever hope to be.

  His love for Kenzie, however, was no less deep and strong for its newness. And his determination to free her was absolute.

  “We’ve got a vehicle, Tark.” Stanton’s voice in his ear made him jump. “Yellow Humvee approaching the gate.”

  Christ. What the hell was Nate Richardson doing here at this time of night? And how was it going to affect the mission? Josh got part of his answer right away.

  “Vehicle’s inside the compound, and the driver’s on his cell phone.” Stanton hadn’t finished the sentence before a loud pinging sound echoed across the compound. The gate was closing, no doubt at Richardson’s insistence. So much for the quick exit they’d hoped might be available. Josh was glad now that James had made the hole in the fence extra-large. He looked at his watch.

  “Let’s give this jerk a little while to finish up his business and hope he’ll leave,” Josh said into the headset to Stanton and to the Macleods sitting with him.

  “What if he doesn’t?” asked James.

  “We’re going in anyway.” And I’m going to punch him out.

  An hour later, they rose from their hiding place. It was as dark as it was going to get, and the yellow Humvee was still parked at the front of the main building. There were a few lights still on in some of the windows, but Josh wasn’t surprised by that. His own experience with scientist types had led him to expect that some would naturally press on with their work into the evening hours.

  The four made their way to the back of the power shed, then slipped around the side. Culley reached around and tried the knob. “Locked,” he said and handed a small bag of tools to Devlin. “Thirty seconds, bro.”

  “Twenty.” He had it unlocked in fifteen, but closed the door again. “I’m going to shut down their communications to start with,” he said, pointing at the satellite dish on the roof of the main building. “And then I’m coming back here. Call me when it’s time for lights out.” Devlin ran across the grassy terrain to the steel ladder mounted on the north wall.

  Josh and the others headed for a small service door not far from the ladder. They’d be well hidden while they worked on the lock, and the door itself opened beneath a stairwell. With a little luck, they wouldn’t be seen when they entered the building.

  It was one thing to have the key card and another to be able to reach the lock to swipe it. There was no chance of hiding what she was doing either. Dan and Shaggy Sam continued to rock on, adding some wild choreography to the act, hoping to keep all eyes on them. Meanwhile, Kenzie had tried for several minutes before she finally managed to squeeze her hand all the way through the slight gap between the door frame and the cage wall. It took even longer to try to slide the card through the slot, as her wrist protested not just the pressure of being wedged in a narrow space, but the unnatural angle of her hand. After the first two times Kenzie figured out she had the card backward. On the third try, the card slipped from her fingers and fluttered to the floor.

  “Dammit.” She could have cried in frustration.

  “It’s okay,” said Roy. “We’ve got a second card.”

  Yeah, but I don’t have another left wrist. She thanked whatever lucky stars helped her arm to go through the gap a little quicker this time. And then managed to swipe the card all the way through the slot.

  She retrieved her hand as the door swung open.

  “Keep singing, guys,” she called as she quickly stepped out and swiped Roy’s cage. She handed him a card and together they freed the rest of the prisoners. “We’ve got to move fast. Unless someone’s asleep in front of that monitor, we’ll be busted any second. My friends and family are on the north side of the compound—they’ve made a hole in the fence behind the power shed.”

  “Aren’t you coming?” called Roy, as he and Guillermo dragged the unconscious Beau from his cage.

  “I have to get Anya.” She turned to leave and froze—Nate Richardson had just stepped throug
h the door. The sight of Kenzie outside of her cage enraged him and he leapt straight for her, knocking her to the cement, banging her head hard enough to stun her. Before she could recover, his hands were tight around her throat. She gouged at his face, his eyes, as her own vision darkened at the edges, but suddenly he jumped away from her.

  She rolled to her knees, gulping air until her head cleared. At least she thought it had cleared—a strange pale shimmer of greenish gold washed over Nate’s skin. Suddenly she realized that every Changeling in the room had silently focused his gaze on Nate, and she could sense the push of energy from their minds. Nate began clawing and slapping at himself as if a thousand flies were biting him at once. Kenzie sprang to her feet and backed away as Nate’s face elongated and his body reframed in a forced Change. Just as he screamed, his golden skin erupted in the tawny fur of a giant wolf.

  He jerked a couple of times as if electrified, then scrambled clumsily through the open door. Kenzie turned to the others. “Go,” she yelled. “Get everyone out now.” She could hear a commotion somewhere above them, the sound of running feet. Hurry! She put every bit of energy she had into broadcasting her message to the rescue team outside as she ran down the hall. We’re free but they’re after us.

  Her senses told her she was heading north, and Stanton had said there was a stairwell at that end of the building. She had to get to Anya, but she could hear the pounding of boots beyond a double door ahead. Quickly, she ducked into a side room, a surgical-looking place of cold stainless steel and tile that reeked of formaldehyde and other pungent substances. Kenzie managed to hide behind a big wheeled garbage can just as the lights went out.

  The boots, about three pairs of them, stopped dead amid curses. Someone yelled for the emergency lights, but Kenzie knew that her brothers would have been thorough. Suddenly there was a crash from further down the hall and an immense commotion. “Drop your weapons!” shouted a familiar voice—it was Culley. A shot was fired high along the ceiling and there was a few seconds’ silence, followed by the clash and clatter of weapons hitting the tiled floor.