“Here,” Damian said, poking him with a clean spoon. “You need ice cream too.”
“You want to share your three scoops?” Pan asked, surprised.
Damian nodded sheepishly. “Three is a lot,” he said.
Pan chuckled quietly and helped Damian polish off his dessert. There, see? He thought. Everything works out, one way or another. The thought was a brief comfort. He had barely returned their dishes to the kitchen when Broderick stepped around the corner with two soldiers, his face twisted into a furious scowl.
“I think it’s time for you to go back to your dad,” Pan told Damian.
“Okay. Was I super?”
“You were super,” Pan smiled down at him. “Go on, now.”
Damian scurried off and Pan watched him go, keeping his back to Broderick for as long as he could. When Damian turned the corner out of sight, Pan inhaled sharply and turned to face the music.
“You need to come with us,” Broderick said darkly.
“I figured.”
Broderick led them through the city center and across the pavement to the research facility. Last year, when the city had been faced with its first criminal shifter, a wing of the building had been restructured into a disciplinary center, complete with interrogation rooms and holding cells. It hadn’t seen much use. Pan wasn’t thrilled to be the one to test it. They brought him to a little room through a wide, sunny lobby, and pointed him to a chair which was bolted to the floor. Pan swallowed hard and sat.
“I would prefer not to restrain you,” Broderick said coolly. “But I will if you force my hand.”
“Sitting. Staying,” Pan said in monotone.
“Good. Boys, go grab some coffee. I’ll call you when I need you.”
The two guards left and Broderick sat his massive bulk on the other side of the little table which stood in the center of the beige, windowless room. Pan just focused on breathing.
“Where should I start?” Broderick asked rhetorically. He suddenly reminded Pan of his father, who had mastered the dissapointed dad tone. “Breaking quarantine? Wreaking public havoc in human spaces? Killing livestock? Causing car accidents? Or maybe we should begin at the end, when you used a child of Regis Thyme to murder a sick old man!”
“What…murder? No, he…he was alive when I left him, I was trying to help.”
“Help!” Broderick stood and slammed his fists into the table. “The last time that child bit someone, he barely survived the process! What the devil made you think that biting a sick man would help?!”
“He was dissolving,” Pan said numbly. “I thought…if he just had a fresh shot of shifter spit, he’d be okay.” Tears welled up in Pan’s eyes. He’d failed. Not just Floyd, but Floyd’s pack, and Damian, and Boris…he hadn’t saved anyone. The strands of hope which had been holding the pieces of his heart together dissolved in a flood of despair. He looked down at his feet as tears splashed into his lap, shaking with silent sobs.
Broderick leaned against the wall, narrowing his eyes at the distraught Pan. “I don’t buy it,” he said icily. “But we’ll come back to that. What explanation do you have for the rest?”
“Sorry,” Pan sniffed, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “What were the other things?”
“Breaking quarantine.”
“The double changes fried my brain. I don’t remember anything about that.”
“Car accident? Livestock? Property damage?”
Pan shook his head. “If it happened before Wednesday, I don’t remember it. I…I’ll do whatever I need to do. Work outside Regis Thyme until I can pay for the cars and livestock, or sit in a cell or do community service. Whatever you want, I’m willing.”
“Why?” Broderick said suspiciously. “If you don’t remember it, what penance are you serving?”
Pan shrugged miserably. “If I did it, I did it,” he said. “Just like before. Never did manage to pay mom back for that antique jukebox, though.”
Jailhouse Rock had been playing, he remembered. The first time he ever shifted. The record was scratched just enough to make the song skip half a beat in one chorus. It had been driving him crazy, and his brother had been teasing him by playing the song on repeat. He got angry. Then there was only red, flashes of red, and that damn song. He’d torn the jukebox apart, but he hadn’t touched his family. That was more than could be said for a lot of shifters. Pan shook the memory away and returned to the moment. He looked up at Broderick, who seemed to be gazing off into his own memory. First shifts haunted them all. Broderick rubbed his shoulder absent-mindedly, then turned his attention back to Pan.
“The humans have been taken care of,” he said. “Anonymous benefactors replaced the car, fixed the property, and paid for the animals. Regis Thyme has an account specifically for that sort of thing.” He sat down heavily and linked his fingers on the table, looking Pan straight in the eye. “I assumed you weren’t in control for those events, but I had to be sure.”
He stroked his long red beard, double-striped with grey, carefully arranging his next words. “However,” he continued. “You were in control this morning, more or less. I can afford a bit of leeway after the strain of last night. But the fact remains that you did use a child, recklessly, irresponsibly, in a way that resulted in the death of a good man. I can’t just let that go.”
“I know,” Pan said quietly.
“For the time being, you are to….”
A knock at the door interrupted him, and he grumbled inaudibly as he answered it.
“Yes?”
“Dr. Snow needs you, right now.”
“I’m in the middle of a disciplinary interview.”
“Yes, that’s what he needs to see you about. He says it’s vital that you talk to him before you finish with Mr. Jefferson.”
“Hm. Pan, stay put,” Broderick said. “Guards will be outside the door, but you will be left alone as long as you don’t cause trouble.”
“Yes, sir,” Pan said.
Broderick left and Pan was alone, with nothing to do but stare at his hands. He wondered how much worse it would be after Snow talked to Broderick. He imagined every scenario he could come up with. Maureen’s virus mixed with Damian’s virus to create an airborne virus. Damian contracted something from Floyd, and now Pan had two deaths on his hands. Scenario after scenario, each darker than the last played through his mind until he would have been glad to step in front of a moving train.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Killian’s nap had leveled him, but it hadn’t helped him come to any conclusions. The dream that he had grown so accustomed to had failed to appear. Instead, he had dreamt of burning buildings and mutant doctors without hands, Ferris wheels filled with multiple copies of Pan rolling down undulating hills toward him. The dreams faded rapidly after he woke and showered, but the confusion he’d felt within them remained. Thinking a walk might clear his head, he left his house and stepped into the twilight, letting his feet lead him. There seemed to be a flurry of frantic activity swarming from the hospital to the lab to the back field, and very little activity anywhere else, so it surprised him when he ran into a pair of people he hadn’t seen in what seemed like forever.
“There you are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Lee ran up to him and gave him a brief, rare hug.
“Did you try my house?” Killian asked wryly.
“I told her we should have, but she didn’t think you’d be there,” Brad said with a grin. “Vindication!”
“Yeah, yeah. Look, Killian, I know you’ve been through a lot and we are completely willing to continue holding down the fort if you need more time to recover….”
“But we’re losing our minds,” Brad finished for her. “We didn’t have any lesson plans this week so we just sort of kept working on the books we had been working on, except the next chapter in biology is human anatomy. Kind of a touchy subject with this bunch.”
“So we skipped to entomology, which thrilled most of them, but I think we may have scarred Jem
for life,” Lee said with a wince.
“That was my fault,” Brad explained. “I brought a praying mantis in for the kids to look at, and…it may have jumped on her nose and got its scythes caught in her hair.”
“May have?” Killian asked, raising a dubious brow.
“Definitely happened,” Brad grinned. “But we had cookies the next day, so I think it all evened out.”
“Cookies? Did I miss a holiday?”
“Um, yeah,” Brad said, flicking his hand out to show Killian a small, silver ring. “Eddie proposed, I said yes, we had a big party.”
“At school?” Killian asked, his stomach knotting. “You celebrated your engagement at school?”
“Why not?” Lee asked, confused. “We did the same when I got married, the kids love to be involved. You organized that party, remember?”
“Yeah, but….”
“Don’t worry, we saved cookies for you,” Brad grinned.
“That’s not what I’m worried about. Did any of the parents complain?”
“Well….”
“Um….”
Killian passed a hand over his eyes and groaned. “What happened?”
“Well, see, the day of the party was also Damian’s first day back….”
“And he’d just been to the doctor the day before and his triglycerides were still too high, even though they’d been keeping him on a strict diet for a month….”
“So it was still super fresh in Natalia’s mind, but none of us knew that, and we let him have a cookie, just one, like everyone else, but….”
“Natalia kind of flipped her shit. We promised her that we’d throw a fruit and vegetable party sometime soon.”
Killian waited for the rest of the story, but the two teachers appeared to be finished. “That’s it?” He asked.
“Well, yeah,” Lee said with a shrug. “You know how protective she is of him. We should have checked with her before the party, but Boris dropped him off. We told him. The rest of the kids were sent home with official invitations, just like all the other parties, but Damian hadn’t been there to get one so we just told him the same morning. Boris didn’t seem to be bothered any. We did apologize, and we will throw that party.”
“But the invitations, they all said why you were having a party, didn’t they?”
“Yeah,” Brad said. “I designed them myself. October 21st, party at school! Mr. Brad is finally engaged to Mr. Eddie! Then the list of snacks that would be served. We invited the parents too, and a bunch of them came. Why does that matter? Do you think Natalia was upset about something other than the sugar?”
“No….” Killian said vaguely. “I need to take a walk. Oh, what did you need me for?”
“Lesson plans,” Lee said, virtually begging. “Or you. Today’s Saturday, so you have a minute, but will you be back on Monday? Or give us a syllabus or something?”
“One or the other,” Killian promised. “I left my work at the hospital. I’ll have at least a week’s worth of plans for you tomorrow afternoon. I think I’ll be there on Monday, but Henry will have the final say on that. Either way, you’ll have some structure.”
“Thank you,” Lee said, over-dramatically relieved. “I swear, it’s been like herding cats all week.”
“Do you need help getting your stuff?” Brad asked. “Don’t want you over-exerting yourself after all that.”
Killian was about to tell him that he’d be fine, but there was a curious look on Brad’s face, like he had more to say.
“Yeah, that would be great, thanks.”
“I’d love to join you, but my husband’s been working with the new shifters all day and they just let him go home for a nap, so I need to go handle him,” Lee said.
“Interrogate him, you mean,” Brad teased.
“Same difference. See you tomorrow, Killian!”
“Bye, Lee.”
She went one way and the men went the other, and soon Brad and Killian were walking the dark, empty streets alone. It was a bit strange for the paths and yards to be empty so late in the day, but it was a nice sort of strange. Killian craved the quiet, and was grateful for it. Come Monday, it would be a rare and precious commodity.
“This is a nice town,” Brad observed happily as they walked. “Nice people, clean streets, just the right balance of quiet and lively. Best part is that we’ve all…except the kids, thank god…been through hell. All of us.”
“Why is that the best part?” Killian asked. “That seems a bit cruel.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t wish our hell on anybody,” Brad clarified. “But the fact that we have all been through it, it gives us a sort of camaraderie that you don’t find often in the outside world. We share a bond, a deep affection and familial loyalty which dissolves all the social barriers which we had on the outside. Different cultures, races, genders, orientations…none of those things matter now, not the way they used to. At our cores, we all want the same thing. Peace. Healing. Happiness. Not just for ourselves, but for our extended family. We live in a town where a redneck will show up to an interracial, inter-religious, homosexual marriage and volunteer to man the barbecue. Not that that never happened outside these walls. Difference is, you can count on it here. That…that trust that everybody in town just wants what’s best for you, that no one will begrudge you the right to be happy after everything we’ve all been through…it’s extraordinarily freeing.” He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and stretching his arms as if to embrace the city. “Yes sir, this is a nice town. A damn good one.”
“You’d think a teacher would know how to make a more straightforward point,” Killian said teasingly.
Brad grinned. “Straightforward doesn’t always work with you.”
Killian chuckled. As they reached the city center, the sounds of chaos met their ears. Exchanging a worried look, they raced through the towering grid. Breaking through the buildings together they stopped short, staring. People shouted and swarmed the doors of the hospital, screaming too loudly for Killian to make out what was being said. The rolling, shoving, screaming mass reached a fever pitch, and then there was a noise like an explosion and the air filled with powder-blue smoke. Killian dragged Brad by his collar away from the rolling cloud, fifty feet away from the center, as those caught within it fell to the ground.
“What is that?” Brad asked in a panic.
“If I had to guess? Paralysis bomb. Smoke was purple the last time I saw it, but Broderick said they upgraded.”
“The hell is going on over here?” Brad asked with a frown.
The smoke dissipated slowly, revealing a hundred unconscious shifters. In the center, breathing hard through her gas mask, stood Mariella. She noticed them and stepped over the shifters toward them, ripping her mask off as she came. She looked furious, and Killian had the sneaking suspicion that she was angry at him specifically. Brad seemed to agree, shooting him a worried look out of the corner of his eye.
“This is a fucking disaster,” Mariella spat. “Snow’s an idiot, Pan’s an idiot, Broderick is the alpha idiot, and you? What part of this did you fuck up, Killian?”
“Uh….”
She stood with her fists on her hips, glaring at him.
“You’re gonna have to get me caught up, darlin’,” Killian said apologetically.
“Don’t darlin’ me, teacher man. Where the hell have you been all day?”
“Sleeping? The thing I didn’t do for three days? What happened here?”
“I don’t know,” she said, throwing her hands up. “I don’t know. I’m working in the field when all the sudden the nurse lady comes over screaming about murder and Pan and a wolf child, then Snow takes off leaving us to deal with a bunch of unstable, bloodthirsty shifters. The researchers didn’t do much, just told us where to move them. My people were a body wall for them all damn day. Then Snow comes running back and the researchers huddle, then they all leave and then what the hell are we supposed to do? So I give my people a break, right, we get some food, stay
outside, then Broderick comes over in a foul fucking mood, tellin’ us to get back to our posts pronto….”
“What’s this riot about?” Killian interrupted, feeling like her story could go on all day.
“I’m getting there,” she snapped. “I guess Snow found a magic pill or something to overwrite everything that other science bitch did, so he started bringing the shifters back to the hospital without us, and one of them went nuts. Wounded a bunch of people. I get there, and it’s seriously out of control. So I shot it. It goes down. Snow freaks out on me for killing a patient, the volunteers freak out on Snow for not restraining the critter, people are hurt and bleeding…and then another one pops into the lobby out of freaking nowhere, going crazy. The researchers respond by pushing me and my team out the door, people outside respond by pushing us back in, meanwhile the freak is trashing everything and people inside are screaming.”
“So…I’m sorry, I’m a little slow…I get why Snow’s an idiot. Why are Broderick and Pan idiots?”
“Because Pan’s wolf bite trick started the whole thing, and Broderick let him out!”
“Let who out, the shifter?”
“No, Pan! He arrested him, then he let him out, then everything went to hell really fucking fast. I’ve got thirty seconds left on the paralysis. Stay here.”
She put her mask back in place, ran back to the group of still shifters, and set a second bomb. She ran back.
“Five minutes, starting now. Help me get the beast locked up.”
She marched into the building with Killian a step behind her. Brad followed reluctantly after a moment of hesitation. Killian couldn’t blame him. It was a terrible scene to walk through. Their friends and family lay barely breathing, their glassy eyes staring at nothing. They looked nearly dead, and it felt disrespectful to step over them like objects. Nearer the door, the paralyzed people were wounded, seeping blood. The floor was slick with it.
“We need to help them,” Killian said, pausing.
“Not until we remove the threat,” Mariella said firmly. “Shackle that one, I’ll get this one.” She handed him shackles and pointed at the floor. A one-eyed beast lay in a pool of black blood, its other eye congealing in the aftermath of death. Brad lost his lunch in a trash can.
Dying to Live: The Shifter City Complete Series Page 33