by Jill Cooper
New Haven 57 Barracks
Hospital Wing
The surgical team worked fast to prep Jenna for surgery. Gerard was scrubbed in with his mask and safety goggles on, ready the second that baby was pulled clear of the womb. A light series of beeps was the only sound as an unconscious Jenna Morgan was hooked up to oxygen and given an epidural, just in case.
Gerard wasn’t taking any chances that she’d regain consciousness.
“Blood pressure is elevated. She’s a prime candidate for a stroke.”
Maybe for a human patient, but for a pregnant half-glistening, Gerard wasn’t so sure. “Work fast, just in case we lose her.”
“And if we do? Do we bring her back? Dr. Miller?” All eyes peering at him behind the surgical masks had equal amounts of question and fear. Everyone had read her file and knew what a lethal enemy Jenna could be.
Truth was, they should have been on the same side. If it wasn’t her baby, Gerard was sure they would have. Jenna had never been friend to the glistenings, even though half of her was one.
“Yes, at all costs—we need a test subject, don’t we?”
“Definitely, after we botched the last one,” A nurse said with venom.
Gerard held his breath, as the baby was pulled free. It wasn’t what he expected, though Gerard didn’t know what to expect. The baby was pink, squirming, and already crying—just like you would expect any newborn child to be.
His arms needed to hold her after all this time. “Give her to me.” He held his outstretched hands and expected the baby to be handed over.
“Specimen twenty-two, delivered successfully. Congratulations, Doctor.” The delivery nurse handed him the child and Gerard hurried to place it beneath the lights.
He inspected her perfect hands and feet, with ten digits, just as she should have. Her blue eyes blinked under the lights, but there was a slight flicker of green behind them. By all accounts, an unremarkable child, but this one, she might save the future of the human race.
That had to mean something, didn’t it?
Gerard picked up a long syringe, over his shoulder he shouted, “Grab the placenta. It has what we need, stem cells.” His voice fell and the words were drawn out as he stuck the baby’s meaty thigh with the needle.
****
Jameson scratched his head and paced the hall.
Inside the hospital wing, it was quiet, but Jameson couldn’t stop his anxiety from trickling out. Jenna had been in surgery for twenty minutes, but it might as well have been twenty hours. He didn’t know what made him more nervous, that the baby finally being born, or that Jenna might survive.
He couldn’t see her again, that was for sure. Jenna would kill him; Jameson saw it in her eyes.
All their hard work was supposed to be rewarded, but instead, the doctor in the ambulance died from blood loss as they reached headquarters. Jameson’s hands and shirt were covered in it. His mind flashed back to performing CPR on the guy, trying to keep him alive, but it was all for naught. As they pulled up into the tunnel to clear security, he flat-lined. Jameson wasn’t a doctor, but he knew that guy wasn’t coming back.
He had never seen a glistening transform like that. To watch Jenna’s body change right in front of him, terrified him. To think how close Jameson had been all this time to being gutted without mercy . . . Hopefully the world could be saved, glistenings could be neutralized in one fell swoop, because that was the only thing that would make it worth it.
The door opened down the hall and the sound of a baby’s cry came with it. Jameson’s heart stopped as Gerard, the genetics specialist, rushed forward. His lab coat flapped behind him and his grin spread from ear to ear.
Good news. Jameson could use some good news. He met him halfway. “Well?”
“She is a bouncing baby girl—appears human to the naked eye, all nine-pounds, two-ounces of her, but tests show otherwise; healthy set of lungs too.”
“And Jenna?” Jameson asked with fear and regret. There was a big part of him that didn’t want her to survive, but another part of him couldn’t reconcile this Jenna with the one he worked with for so long. In his mind, she was like two separate people, but he couldn’t see her again, no matter what happened. She would kill him and rightfully so. Jameson couldn’t blame her anymore.
“We’re stitching her back up and will transfer her to recovery. There’s no telling how long she’ll survive. The damage to her kidneys was extensive. Can her body heal now that she’s no longer pregnant? Only time will tell.”
Jameson shifted from foot to foot and ran a hand through his hair. “Is that wise? Shouldn’t we . . .” He let his words trail off. They were too horrible for even him to say.
“Put a bullet in her head?” Gerard smirked. “We need someone to test the full power of the serum on now that we have the missing link. The stem cells from the placenta we harvested, it’s miraculous. We never got half of this from Wendy. Of course, she couldn’t sustain another pregnancy after . . .”
Jameson’s eyes darkened and he couldn’t help but think of Chief Reynolds and his daughter—how this all started. If Wendy had just kept her pants on, maybe none of this would have happened in the first place. Jameson blamed her, but she was just a kid, or was, over two years ago when it all started.
He searched for her with his team, his friends, Jenna and Dirk. Then, all he wanted to do was help and do his job. Had that been too much to ask for? Now, after everything Jameson had done . . . he didn’t think there was any way to come back from that.
Still, Jameson’s heart ached for Wendy and he couldn’t stop himself from asking.
“After what? What’d you do to Wendy?”
Gerard beckoned him forward. “Come with me, but what you’re about to see, you can’t tell anyone. Just keep in mind that her sacrifice will save the country, probably the planet and our lives will all be richer for it.”
His words sickened Jameson and he was led to a door with a small window. The door was locked, but Jameson saw something in the corner harnessed to the wall. His brain tried to process what he was seeing. It was a half-human, half-creature body, more like a mass, writhing in pain.
No, it couldn’t be . . . was that Wendy? Was that what he had done? Jameson’s hand pressed against the wall without him meaning to, without him wanting to. He couldn’t feel, couldn’t speak. All he could do was stare.
Was this what he had been part of?
“We took her back and forth too many times across the DNA spectrum; too many experiments, but for what we discovered—.”
Jameson tore is eyes away. “Put her out of her misery then.”
“I know you knew her father, Chief Reynolds—.”
“Don’t placate me. She’s not a specimen and she’s not a test tube. At one time she was . . .”
“Human?” Gerard huffed. “What she helped us do here, it’s worth the sacrifice. Trust me, Rick.”
“I trust you just about as far as I can throw you.” Jameson’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe you’re right, but why not end her now that you have Jenna and her baby? Why allow her to suffer like this?”
Wendy had sympathized with the glisteningsglistening because she didn’t know any better, because she was a kid. She hadn’t asked for this and didn’t deserve any of it. Gerard and the others were supposed to be siding with the humans, not turning them into monsters more grotesque than the glistenings.
“There’s one more thing we need from her and then we can end it, but Rick—.” Gerard’s smile was twisted and that of a man on the verge of accomplishing everything he wanted.
Jameson struggled to take a deep breath. “You better move Jenna to a secure, locked room because if she ever sees this, none of us are getting out of here alive.”
Gerard shook his head. “Just because you couldn’t handle Jenna Morgan doesn’t mean we can’t. She’s just coming out of surgery and still under the effects of the drugs. There’s no way that she’ll get free.”
Opening his mouth to speak, Jameson wa
s interrupted with a blaring siren and the lights in the hall flashed red. It only meant one thing and Jameson had expected it.
He grabbed the gun from his holster and flipped the safety off. Jenna was on the move. Time to put her down like the rabid dog she was.
****
Blood.
Baby.
Jenna’s thoughts were intermingled with the two when she woke up after a few hours. She was lying in a bed, hooked up to a monitor and wearing an oxygen mask. A nurse was at her bedside with a clipboard, jotting down information displayed from the machines.
A moan from Jenna brought the nurses attention. She leaned over and her ruby lips smiled. “Take it easy, okay? Things will start to clear in a few hours. For now its best, you rest and try to let your body heal itself. You’ve had a big trauma, Mrs. Jameson.”
Mrs. Jameson?
Where they still trying to fool her?
Jenna told her legs to move, but nothing happened. “I can’t . . .” she huffed into the oxygen mask, “feel my legs.”
“The feeling will return in time. We numbed you to deliver the baby. No one was sure if you’d wake up and that sort of distress isn’t something a young mother should feel.”
Her baby? Her baby was born somewhere in New Haven. No, unacceptable; that couldn’t be allowed.
She had to get out of there, needed to find her baby; Jenna’s arms ached for her.
Jenna grabbed the nurse’s arm and squeezed. “Bring me my baby.”
The woman’s happy smile faltered. “She’s fine, I swear to you. She’s thriving and doing well. She’s aced all the tests and is having her first feeding. Did you and Rick have a name picked out for her?”
That was Jenna’s job, Jenna’s—not this nurse and not New Haven. Jenna grabbed the side rails of her bed and pushed herself up into a seated position.
The nurse rushed toward the other side of the room and grabbed the phone. “I need security down here in the operating room.”
But Jenna was already on the move. She ripped the oxygen mask off her face and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She couldn’t feel the weight of her body, but her toes tingled as she crashed down to the ground. Grabbing the machine and then the wall, she hurried toward the nurse.
The nurse spun, with her hands on her hips. “Now, Mrs. Jameson, I understand you’re disoriented, but I can’t have you hurting yourself. Please, get back in that—.”
Jenna had enough, enough of it all—their lies and their manipulation. She’d force them all to their knees, but first she would start with this nurse.
Crunch—her fist collided with the nurse’s nose. It shattered with a satisfying crunch and the nurse slumped to the ground. Jenna meant to catch her, but instead they both fell. Her legs folded beneath her and the blood flowing from the nurse’s nose was inviting.
Jenna’s stomach rolled as it growled with hunger. She shuddered as she smeared some on her finger and licked it. It was so good, held so much power.
No, Jenna had to resist, had to remember she wasn’t glistening, but instead human. She would never give into that basic need, not on purpose.
Footsteps drew a gasp from her. Jenna hurried a crawl behind the door. Her hands found purchase on the wall and she slowly pulled herself up into a standing position. Her legs shook under the strain and she leaned against the wall as the door swung open, nearly slapping her in the face.
A guard entered. Hands on his hips he scanned the room and when he saw the nurse on the floor, he rushed to the wall to sound the alarm.
Jenna hurried, but she wasn’t fast enough. He pulled the alarm down just as Jenna reached for his waist and retrieved his weapon.
He swung around and Jenna backed up, aiming with both hands. “Hands up, don’t move.”
The guard’s hands were slow to rise. “You think you’re going to escape . . . out of here?”
Jenna didn’t know, but she had to try. “Where’s my daughter?”
“Like, I’ll ever—.” His voice cut off as a bullet from Jenna’s gun ripped through his thigh. His neck tensed, he grabbed his leg and fell to the floor. Tears were in his eyes and Jenna had no patience for him.
“Let me ask you again, and this time, you better take the question more seriously. Where the hell is my daughter?”
“East wing, bio lab; you can’t miss it.” The guard held onto his leg tightly as blood sprayed out and puddled on the floor.
Jenna stared at it. She salivated for it. Was this the future, her daughter had to look forward to? She couldn’t worry about that now. All she had to focus on was getting her back and then she’d figure out what to do. “I need one more favor,” Jenna licked her lips to tide herself over. “Give me your jacket.”
****
Jameson, with Gerard on his tail, entered security. Two men were sitting at the controls surrounded by flat panel monitors, but they never looked up. When Jameson got closer, he could see why.
In the night sky, were glistenings—not just a couple, not even a few dozen.
There were hundreds and they were hell bent on getting through New Haven 57’s shields and security.
“My God,” Gerard whispered and backed up. “They’ll get through if they keep that up.”
“Don’t we have a little thing, like a cure, we can use on them?” Jameson barked.
“It’s untested.” Gerard’s voice was faint and he was ghost-like in complexion.
“Untested is better than dead. Get the cure into the New Haven crowd control cannons. It’s the only chance we have.” Jameson pushed one of the security guards out of the way and commandeered his keyboard.
He was better than him, better than everyone.
Cycling through the options, the monitors flashed with images from different cameras. He went so fast, Jameson almost missed her, but there stood Jenna. Creeping down the hall in a stolen security jacket; even right after surgery, she was stealthy. From her movements, her legs weren’t very steady yet. Jameson hoped that would give him an advantage.
“What hallway is this?” Jameson asked the security tech.
The security guard glanced over on the controls. “Hallway three, east wing.”
That was where Jameson had just come from. Jenna, whether she knew it or not, was headed straight to Wendy’s room.
He sprinted out the door. Jameson had to get to her before she saw Wendy; he had to. If Jenna saw what he did . . .
There’d be no coming back for any of them.
****
The hallway was surprisingly empty.
Jenna tried the doors and most of what she found were a series of bland, boring offices. There was nothing out of the ordinary for New Haven, but a top-secret establishment? Jenna didn’t see anything that might make her think they were holding her baby there.
She didn’t know what to do or where to go. Her mind was a cloud of fog and her limbs shook from fatigue. Pain medicine must’ve been wearing off because waves of pain were coming from her stomach, her womb—even her heart was beating fast, erratic.
This had to end soon. Jenna didn’t know how much longer she could hang on.
She clung to the wall, sliding her back along it as she came to the next closed room. Frustrated, Jenna grunted and tried the next door, but this one was locked. Tick, tick, went the door handle as she tried to force it open. Going on tiptoe, she peered inside the window, but barely reached. Inside it was dark, but she detected a shadow in the corner.
There was something there, could her baby be inside?
Jenna couldn’t be sure without checking all the rooms and her breasts ached. Her body wanted to see her baby so bad, Jenna couldn’t think about anything else. All she knew, was she needed to get into that room before her body gave out.
A single shot into the doorknob should unlock it, but her body was shaking so bad, Jenna didn’t know if she could keep the gun still. Closing one eye, she steadied her hand with her other arm and at close mark range, blew the lock from the door. Metal fractured, flew do
wn the hall and Jenna squinted her eye without turning her head as the door came ajar.
She pushed it open with her toes and stepped inside the darkness. Both hands clasped her gun’s grip, weapon pointed down, ready to aim and fire. On guard, ready to fight, Jenna cautiously stepped further into the room. Banging into one of the steel metal beds surprised her and a gasp of air escaped her lungs.
“Hello?”
It was a woman’s voice.
Familiarity stung Jenna. It was Wendy. Wendy, oh my God. Jenna’s insides shook with anger that she had forgotten. How could she have forgotten the girl in the cabin alone and frightened, ready to give birth.
Wendy—the girl whose pregnancy started it all. Wendy, Jenna had tried to break her from New Haven 57 six months ago. It was the reason she was still here at all. Wendy was the mission, the answer to why Jenna did what she did.
Work the case, save the innocent.
I promised Travis Reynolds I’d watch over her.
“I’ll get you out of here.” Jenna’s hands searched along the wall for a light. If she could see what she was doing, she could get Wendy out of there, find her baby and everyone would be free; everyone would win.
Jameson had to be lying about the state of the world. Jenna couldn’t think about that now. God, she just couldn’t—Dirk.
“Leave me. Don’t turn on the light. Please.” Her voice was so strained, so afraid. Jenna didn’t understand where the pain was coming from.
It was a silly request and one Jenna couldn’t follow. She found the switch and flicked it up. The room was illuminated with soft lighting, and moan of pain escaped from the bed.
“Wendy, I’m sorry—.” Jenna’s voice trailed off as her eyes took in the sight of the girl lying on the sheet. But her brain couldn’t process what she saw. What she saw wasn’t Wendy, it wasn’t anything.
It was a mass of experiments where flesh met scales, bone met razor sharp blades. Hair was on half the side of her head, where the other looked like a dragon’s misplaced snout. One arm and hand were perfectly formed, where the other glistened blue and had talon claws at the end. Everywhere her skin was deformed, lumpy, like something in her genetic makeup was so wrong, her body was having trouble staying together.