The Shade Chronicles | Book 2 | Predator

by Bradley, T. K.

  “Can I ask—?” Sydney begins, but she bites off her own words before she can get to her actual question.

  “Anything,” he answers. “You can ask me anything.” Wow, that’s a dangerous agreement.

  “You’re different,” she says, her voice laced with curiosity. “Dr. Kimura said it’s a mutation, but I don’t think that’s it. You don’t have to tell me, I understand military secrets and all that, but… is it true you can walk in the sun?”

  “Yes,” Ellis answers without hesitation, and I hear Trey hiss a warning from his cell. Ellis ignores him entirely. “The sun still hurts but it doesn’t leave any lasting damage.”

  “That’s incredible,” Sydney gasps, and I hear her steps move closer to the cell.

  Still, Ellis is resisting his hunger in favor of talking with this girl. I have just enough time to be jealous of how easy he makes it seem before sticking my face as far into the tin cup as possible, licking every drip from the edges. Anything I can’t reach with my tongue gets scooped up with my fingers. I’m embarrassed by the fool I’m making of myself, though luckily, I don’t have an actual audience to see it. They can only hear my lapping and slurping, and at least the only ones aware of the spectacle are my fellow cellmates, and they’re all making just as much noise as I am. Well, except for Ellis.

  I’m vaguely aware of Sydney asking, “Can I stop by to see you later? Maybe talk some more? I would love to hear what the world outside is like. My mom never lets me leave.”

  “Of course. I’ll be here. I mean, it’s not like I’m going anywhere…”

  Sydney laughs far too hard at his lame joke and then closes the hatch in the door and makes her way back up the metal stairs and down the hallway.

  By now, I’ve dug my hands into the bowl of flesh. The raw meat is surprising, a small slab of a pink fish. It’s not red meat, and I poke at it tentatively. It doesn’t stir the same ravenous hunger in me, but it likewise doesn’t cause the revulsion I now feel at consuming fruits, vegetables, and grains. I take a small nibble, and when my stomach doesn’t revolt outright, I take another bite.

  I hear someone toss their metal bowl to the floor, and it must’ve been Trey because I hear him say, “Not hungry?”

  He’s asking Ellis, because he still isn’t eating. What the hell? It’s not like the girl is here still watching him, he doesn’t have anyone to impress. But Ellis says simply, “I thought I would wait to see if you guys passed out first. I didn’t think it would do to have us all unconscious yet again. So… how are you feeling?”

  My hand freezes halfway to my mouth, cube of meat pinched between my claws. Uhhh… It’s not that he doesn’t have a good point, but I hate feeling like a guineapig.

  Kelly answers first, in a hesitant voice which says she’s feeling much like I am. “I’m still awake, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “No stomach issues? Your head is clear?” Ellis asks.

  Another pause as she takes stock, then she says, “I’m good.”

  “Trey?” Ellis asks next.

  “Yeah. Good,” he confirms.

  My mom confirms without prompting, “I’m fine too. Lori?”

  I’m almost a little ashamed of the fact that I didn’t even smell the blood before drinking it. Last time, there’d been a strange odor about it, an aftertaste that I chalked up to the metal cup. This time, there wasn’t anything that stood out, so I guess that’s as good a method of checking as any. A lack of something means nothing… right? “I’m fine,” I say before throwing the last piece of meat between my teeth, chewing it as slowly as I can to savor it. Who knows when they’ll deem to feed us again.

  Ellis, at last, decides it’s safe to eat. He sounds so dainty with his feasting, and I feel my cheeks heat with a blush. I can nearly imagine him dining with a knife and fork, meanwhile, I hate to even imagine what kind of mess I am right now.

  I glance down at my stained and tattered clothes. When I first woke up as a Ripper, I was so entirely given over to the intensity of my emotions—my fear, my anger, my revulsion, and yes, my self-pity—that I didn’t really give much thought to modesty. I’ve been walking around in mere rags of fabric, but I guess a small part of me didn’t deem myself worthy of clothes. Or maybe, my body was more animal than human, so why bother covering it? It’s not like I need the clothing to protect myself from the elements. Modesty seems like such a human notion now, and a part of me kind of misses it.

  I look behind me to the cot, the thin sheet over the mattress. I haven’t even bothered to sleep in the bed yet. I force myself up from my crouch on the floor. With every passing second in this body, I find myself being pulled further into the realm of beast. Of predator.

  Now? Somewhere in this facility, Kenzo has already started on a cure. I don’t know if he’ll be successful for not, but a girl can dream, right? Am I a girl? Well, that’s debatable, but I don’t want to forget how to be a human, just in case I get the chance to return there one day.

  The springs protest as I lie myself down across the mattress. My limbs are too long to fit comfortably, but I fold myself up the best I can, the sagging pillow under my head. It’s awkward. In fact, the floor might almost be considered more comfortable, but I refuse to think about what that means for me. I pull the thin sheet up over my body, covering as much of my scabbed skin as I can. If I close my eyes and concentrate really hard… maybe, just maybe, I can pretend I’m just a girl again. My brother is sleeping on the cot across the room, and if I’m really lucky, he won’t wake me up with his snoring. I can almost hear the muffled conversation of my parents through the paper-thin walls.

  I’ll wake up in the morning and we’ll have breakfast across from each other at the rickety table—protein paste and mushrooms, obviously—and then I’ll head to work at the garage. Jose will have me sort through the scrap pieces the scavengers brought in, and maybe I’ll tune an engine, do an oil change. After work, I’ll swing by the garden to help my mom with the seedlings.

  Was life so bad? It’s easy enough now to see the past through rose-colored glasses. If I don’t look too hard, I don’t see the abuse—the empty bellies, the bruised flesh, the simpering and cowed citizens.

  But you know what? The past is just that—it’s the past, and there’s no going back. At times, it serves as a reminder of all that we have lost. Other times, it’s a lesson of what we should do in the future. In this moment, though, it’s nothing more than a nice dream to get lost in.

  I was human once.

  And maybe I can be human again.

  21

  Lori

  Everything passes in a daze. Or days, rather. Time loses all meaning, as days, weeks—maybe months?—pass. We fall into a kind of rhythm, a predictable routine. Luckily, it doesn’t involve any more drugged blood tests or near-starvation.

  Sydney comes often—probably more often than her own mother knows. She feeds us regularly, and she even brings us old, battered novels to keep up from getting too bored. Trey said he prefers crime novels, but as he quickly worked his way through those, he tried to discreetly hint that he wouldn’t mind reading a few romance novels. Huh. Never would’ve guessed he’s a closet fan of bodice-rippers.

  At first, I found it difficult not to tear or puncture the pages with my claws. The first couple attempts were met with frustration, and I ended up tossing a few books across the room. Kelly complained, “If you’re not gonna read it, pass it down.” Since we couldn’t pass the books between cells until Sydney came back, I had no choice but to try and try again. It was either that or stare of the offending book. I swear, the model on the cover was mocking me.

  “Consider this your chance to practice,” Ellis suggested. At first, I didn’t know what he meant, but soon enough, I learned to use these unwieldy mitts of mine using more delicate movements. It takes patience, slow breathing. I’ll be the first to admit that I may have anger issues—after all, I have a lot to be angry about—but with each passing day, I find my increased abilities easier to manage.


  I refuse to admit the possibility that it’s because the monster is taking over.

  For every time that Sydney stops by to talk with Ellis, forcing the rest of us to listen to their stilted flirting, it makes it all the more obvious that Kenzo, however, will not visit. He’s probably too busy with the cure… right? He wouldn’t be avoiding me… maybe met some cute scientist to get involved with. He was only ever interested in me because I was the least repugnant of his limited options. Suddenly there’s a whole new selection of females—and they’re all human!

  Shit.

  This emptiness I’m feeling led me to try experimenting a bit further with my augmented senses. If I can conquer my claws, then how difficult can it be to manage my super sense of smell or hearing?

  Besides, I’ve been bored. What else have I got to do?

  Little by little, I experimented with turning up those dials. First, listening to my would-be allies in the cells beside me; their heartbeats, their breath. Then I listened down the hall, to some of the adjacent rooms outside our little prison. And now, sometimes I entertain myself by searching for Kenzo.

  With Ellis’s voice as an anchor, I lower myself down into that hyperaware state that I originally found so overwhelming. Once I’m there, I can kind of direct myself through the halls of the facility. It’s almost like I can paint a picture in my mind using the sound vibrations, like echolocation. Even the empty hallways have a vibration to them. The generators and solar panels, the electricity through wires within the walls and beneath floors, they all have a hum, too subtle for human ears to perceive. Me, however, I can hear it all.

  Kenzo sounds like home. Poetic, right? I never would’ve called myself a softie, but when I listen to Kenzo’s steady heartbeat, it calms my nerves. The bap-bap of his heart reminds me of why we’re here and that my humanity is just a beat away.

  “What do you hear?” Ellis asks in a tempered murmur. He isn’t asking out of curiosity but to keep me tethered to reality. If he wanted to, he could just listen himself.

  “They’re… excited,” I say, trying to put a label on the thundering heartbeats I hear. I can’t smell their adrenaline from this distance, but I can imagine the precise tang. “They’re all on the other side of the facility in the lab.”

  We don’t know for sure that the large room is a lab, but by the amount of equipment and how often Kenzo can be found in there, it’s safe to assume that’s what it is.

  “Who else is there?” Ellis asks. He sounds distracted, and I wonder if he’s listening for himself to confirm what I’m saying.

  I’m distantly aware of my brow raising. In order to keep from being overwhelmed by my senses, I have to lock a few of them down, and right now, that’s my sense of touch and movement. I try to take a quick count of the beating hearts in the room. “Just about everyone,” I tell him. Not the children, obviously. They’re over in a room to the right that I like to call the nursery—but most of the adults.

  Ellis’s breath is almost a sharp pant, and I can sense my mom’s similarly patterned gasp. When I’m deep like this, the others try to stay silent and still, to make it easier on me, but I can feel the questions on their lips. What’s happening? Have they found the cure? Is this the moment we’ve all been waiting for?

  I wince at the squeak from down the row of cells, as someone shifts on their bunk.

  As focused as I am on the lab, I almost miss the approaching figure. Obviously, it’s impossible to connect each heartbeat with their owner, since I haven’t even met most of the people here, but this one… I know this one.

  “Bob?” I say.

  I claw my way out of my stupor, first reeling myself back into my body, and then cracking open my eyes to the familiar shadows of my cell.

  Kelly stands up from her cot at the same time the prison door swings open. “Dad,” she says, her voice laced with relief.

  He must’ve used this opportunity, while everyone is distracted in the lab, to sneak down here to see his daughter. “I do believe it’s time to leave, baby girl,” Bob says, hopping down the metal steps. He doesn’t sound stressed at all, just his usual bubbly Bob-ness. Too bad there’s no way we can make any guesses on what’s going on by his lack of anxiety. Bob is pretty much the same level of calm no matter what kind of chaos is going on.

  “Did they find the cure?” I call out through my cell door.

  He lets out a little high-pitched giggle. “Even better.”

  I have no idea what that even means, but Kelly seems to. “Finally! I was starting to wonder how useless Kimura really was. He certainly wasn’t living up to his reputation as a mad scientist.”

  “What?”

  I’m forced to listen as Bob unlocks Kelly’s cell door. I listen to their hug. And then I listen as they walk back up the stairs, leaving the rest of our doors locked tight.

  “Hey!” Trey shouts after them.

  “Don’t leave us here,” my mom echoes the sentiment.

  Ellis is silent, but I can nearly hear the gears working in his mind as he waits, just like I do. My breath catches in my throat. My gut tells me this is the moment of decision, where the tables are turning, and there’s no telling exactly which way I’m going to be facing when we all finally come to a stop.

  What finally sets my breathing off once more is when Trey says, “I’ll help you get what you want.” His voice is even and deliberate, low and dangerous. It promises violence and bloodshed.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I ask. “What do they want?”

  Kelly’s steps hesitate on the walkway. Trey must sense the same hesitation and sees it as an opening. “We want the same thing,” he says, and when she doesn’t interrupt him or walk away, he continues. “This is no life, constantly hiding. We’re apex predators. We should be treated as such.”

  What? No!

  The lives of all of these people are tethered with the thinnest of threads. I feel dizzy with panic. I think of my brother, of those poor people whose lives I ended. I think of the citizens of our compound, their human lives ended without their permission. I think of Jose, of his daughter’s limp form beneath the sheet.

  “Trey…” My voice wavers, and my mother lets out a strangled sob.

  “You can’t do this,” she whispers, choking on her horror. “If you want to leave, then just leave, but don’t hurt anyone.”

  “Don’t you get it, Judith?” Ellis answers before anyone else can. “It’s not about freedom. They could’ve left anytime they wanted.”

  “Is it the cure, then?” she asked, confused. “Just wait, they’ll probably be here within the hour to ask for volunteers to see if the cure works.”

  Ellis laughs darkly. “It’s not the cure… This is because I wouldn’t give him what he wanted.”

  “What he…” My mom’s voice tapers off as she digests what Ellis is saying.

  Trey doesn’t want to be cured. He’s never wanted to go back to his human life, where he’s beholden to the military, being forced to follow their rules, their orders. No, Trey wants to be powerful. He wants to be unstoppable, not even by the sun.

  Like Ellis.

  Trey has listened to everything Ellis has told Sydney, and he’s been witness to the near-indestructible nature of Ellis’s variant of the portentum noctis virus.

  Kelly turns around and makes her way back toward the cells.

  “Trey,” I say as firmly as I can, trying to infuse my own humanity, my own conviction into the words. “Trey, you can’t mean to…” I trail off. I know there’s no point in trying to stop him from infecting himself with the variant. No, the only thing I can do now is convince him to spare the lives of the people who would try to stop him. “Trey, there are children here.”

  “And there weren’t children at our compound?” I can hear the sneer in his words. “Did that stop our government from neglecting them? From using them to their own ends?”

  A wave of rage rushes through me. My teeth clack shut in a snarl. “Are you seriously using that as justifi
cation for yourself right now? They were awful, and therefore you have a right to be just as bad, if not worse?”

  “They certainly set a precedent,” he says with a dark laugh.

  At this point, I know that Bob and Kelly are standing outside of Trey’s cell door.

  “You’ll help me?” she asks him.

  “Honestly? It’s not about helping you; I would be helping myself. It just so happens that our goals align.”

  She considers this for a moment, and then asks, “And when we’re done?”

  “Then we’ll go our separate ways. I have no interest in being around either of you for any longer than I need to.”

  “Look,” Kelly says, blowing out a sigh. “The way I see it, we’re already even. You let me go when you were ordered to kill me. But… you are also the one responsible for deceiving me in the first place. If I let you out—”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ll owe you,” Trey spits. “Just name your price.”

  “You do the killing,” Kelly says without hesitation, as if this has been on her mind the whole time. “I have enough blood on my hands. You go ahead of me and take the brunt of their defences.”

  Trey’s laugh is lighter this time, and I know that he’s smiling. “Deal.”

  “No!” I yell, slamming my fist into the door. “Bob! You have to stop them!” Trey and Kelly are beyond reason; they have their goal in mind, and they’re willing to do anything it takes to reach it. But Bob, I know there’s a decent human being in there somewhere. He took my family in when he didn’t have to. He protected us, fed us.

  Bob’s shuffling footsteps work down the line until he’s on the other side of my door. There’s the brush of my hand along the metal panel, and I can smell his scent, familiar and almost comforting.

  “Bob, please,” I moan.

  “My daughter means everything to me,” he says simply. “I would let every single remaining human being on this earth die if it meant her safety. It’s within my power to give it to her. With that viral strain, she can walk in the sun… and I can walk beside her.”