by L. E. Horn
I considered as I swallowed. “I should be okay. Depends on what the enforcers are saying.”
Chris tapped on his phone and showed me a photo. It was me, taken by Peter a few years ago, when I’d gone through a particularly long-haired phase. My hair brushed well past my shoulders, longer even than I had it now. I wore shades, which nicely hid my eyes. Taken in late summer, my skin was tanned, and my hair was bleached almost platinum by long hours in the sun. Until I saw it, I hadn’t realized how much my body had changed since I’d become a wulf. In the shot, I was long and lean with a runner’s physique, on the skinny side. Nothing like the muscles my frame possessed now.
“The board got Jason to find a photo when you left, and Peter pulled this one out. Apparently, the enforcers all have it—they spent the day cruising the streets, asking if anyone has seen you in connection with a murder investigation.” He looked it over and his mouth quirked. “You look like a hippy.”
“I hate having my picture taken,” I admitted. “Anyway, I barely recognize myself. I doubt anyone else will.”
“Still a risk.” Chris’s face tightened. “Too bad they didn’t hold off one more day.”
I hadn’t worked this hard to back out now. “Even if the recruiter sees the photo, he won’t be expecting me to want to get into the program. Hell, even if someone recognizes me, maybe he’ll figure a murderer would make a good recruit.”
Chris had worked it out. “The enforcers wouldn’t have confessed to your wulfan guy that you’re a wulfleng if he was in a mixed crowd with humans when they questioned him.”
“He’s usually surrounded by people.”
“But those on the board know you’re wulfleng,” Chris continued. “And that you suspect there’s an organization responsible. Mind you, they don’t know the depth of your understanding.”
That was true. Unless Jason told them, they couldn’t be sure I’d been in on the meeting with Malcolm, which is when we discussed where the recruits were coming from. And they wouldn’t know that Sam and I had met to exchange details about the virus.
I was determined to see this through. “It’s doubtful that the board has a direct line of communication to the recruiter, even if they wanted to talk about me. They’re more likely to communicate with those much higher up in the organization. And those guys won’t care about a loose end to a failed experiment, only that it be tied up.”
He grimaced but conceded my point with a nod. “What’s your guy’s name?”
“Noah.”
“Any other wulfan involved that you’ve seen?”
“Nope. And if he’s in touch with others, it isn’t obvious.”
“It’s a risk, Liam. Are you sure? Jason can arrest this guy and see if he’ll talk.”
I thought of Noah and of the others he’d likely already recruited, out there, somewhere; the virus and the antiviral they had to rely on to keep their mutants sane; the mutant wulfleng, and what someone could do with an army of them.
We didn’t need Noah. We needed the organization.
“Even if he talks, which I don’t think likely, Noah may not know what we need to know. And we’ll have lost our best chance of getting in and finding out.”
Chris sighed. “I wish we had more time to set things up.”
I considered. “What if I told Noah what I am? The board wants to lock me up or kill me. Wouldn’t it make sense for me to run to the organization?”
His eyes widened in alarm. “That could go all kinds of wrong. You run from us to them, and they’ll suspect you’re a plant, working for us. One look at your wulf and they’ll figure out you’re an infected not showing typical symptoms, and they’ll put you on a dissecting table. Not good.” He shook his head. “You don’t want to be singled out with these guys. If you don’t go in as a normal recruit, I don’t think you should go in at all.”
I wasn’t any good to anyone in pieces. I rubbed a hand over my face, grimacing at the dirt. “I could use it as a backup plan, if they discover what I am.”
“If they discover what you are, you get out. Contact Sam, do whatever you have to. We’ll come for you.” He shifted in the seat, turning more toward me. “What name are you using?”
“Lee Hunt.”
He nodded. “Good choice.”
“I thought you were against this?”
His brows lowered. “I’m not happy, but this mutant thing—it has to be stopped. And you just keep surprising me. Maybe you’re right—you are uniquely suited to do this.”
Wow. This was the reason I liked the guy; he was man enough to admit when he was wrong. I nodded and asked the question that had been floating around in my mind, although I was fearful of the answer. “How’s Peter?”
Chris seemed lost in thought, but he glanced at me in surprise. “Sam didn’t tell you?”
“I’ve been busy. Running. Jumping off rooftops.”
“Right.” His eyebrows danced and he gave a small shake of his head. “Peter is awake. He woke up today.”
I sat up straight. “Awake? Peter is awake? Not the wulf?”
“Hayek gave Peter and Josh their first antivirus injections Monday morning. Josh hasn’t had a memory episode since, and today, Hayek let Peter surface from the sedative. He changed back to human right away. He’s got no memory of anything from the moment he came to our place for supper, but he seems good. Really good.”
Relief rushed through me, so intensely I blinked. Chris didn’t look at me, but continued to chomp on his next burger, giving me time. Maybe he needed it too.
Finally, my mind returned to the topic at hand. “I need to be at the Salter Street Bridge for midnight.”
“We still have a couple of hours. I’m not taking you back there until things have cooled off. Why don’t you finish the food and relax for a bit? If you’re bearding the lion in his den, I’d rather you weren’t flat-out exhausted.”
With my mouth full of cheeseburger, I nodded. Despite having slept all day, my body trembled with exhaustion. I transferred to the rear seat and zonked out the moment my head hit the padding.
When Chris shook me awake, we were parked at the Alexander Docks.
“You stink of wulf,” Chris said. “The only way I can think to get it off you and your clothes without removing your basic homeless stench is to dilute both in the river.”
I shook my head. “You just want to see me soaking wet and smelling of swamp water.”
“Hey, I’ve still got to drive you there, don’t forget.”
I sighed, but Chris was right. Even a shower in my clothes wouldn’t have disguised the wulf scent, but river stink should do nicely.
“Just tell your wulfan you had to ditch to get away from the big bad guys chasing you,” suggested Chris with a grin.
“If I end up with a deadly disease, I’m coming after you,” I promised, getting out of the car.
* * *
Chris pulled the vehicle over on Jarvis Avenue. I regarded him through my still dripping hair and grimaced. “This car smells like a swamp.”
“Yeah, there goes my damage deposit.” Chris’s lips twitched into a half smile. “Seriously, though, it worked. I can’t smell anything but river mud on you.
Dunking myself into the chilly spring water while clutching the rotting remnants of the wharf hadn’t been the best experience of my day, but I admitted, grudgingly, that it had washed the wulf away. “Yeah. I prefer it over the booze and other delectable things I smelled of.”
“I can vouch for that,” he said, his teeth reflecting in the streetlight.
I stared out the windshield. “If I don’t make it back . . .”
“We’ll look after your dog until you come for her. By that time, we’ll be lucky if the house is still standing. Havoc’s idea of a chew toy is our leather couch. We’ve thrown the armchair out already.”
I snorted. “And Sam? You’ll be there for her?”
He lost the smile. “If you don’t return, there won’t be a thing I can do for her. You’d better damn well
make it home.”
My gut twisted, but I nodded. “I might need the cavalry. I just hope I can figure out where to send it.”
Chris gusted a sigh. “I wish I were going with you. You aren’t trained for this kind of op.”
“Don’t need training.” I bared my human teeth. “I have wulf power.”
He rolled his eyes. “Listen, Liam. Be careful with those partials, or whatever the hell they are. Not only are they dangerous—frankly I’ve no idea how you haven’t killed yourself—but you can’t let anyone see you doing them. I think Garrett is right. Somehow, you have achieved what they’re struggling to perfect: the ability to combine the best of both human and wulf. Only I think you’ve gone even further. Anyway, watch yourself.”
I nodded. “I know. I’ll need to pretend to be the same as everyone else.”
“Just don’t turn into a mutant. I would really, really like a happy ending to this story.”
I sighed. “Me too.” I opened the door and stepped out, wet jeans clinging to my legs. I surveyed the damp mark on the seat, and looked across to where Chris sat, his dark eyes riveted on me.
“Hey, thanks for coming after me.”
“Anytime, kid. I’ll see you soon.”
I straightened and closed the door. The car drove off and I experienced a sinking sensation as my last connection to the normal world slipped away. I turned and headed south to Sutherland, crossing the tracks to Higgins, before traveling west to the Salter Street Bridge.
13
I approached the bridge with caution. The enforcers wouldn’t suspect it to be my focus, but after my close call, I took no chances. I wasn’t sure I’d survive another partial right now.
The energy under the bridge seemed chaotic, people were pacing and faces were tense. The group seemed much smaller than usual. Now is when I’d find out if Noah suspected me, and I braced myself as he glanced my way. His eyes slid over me as if registering my presence, before returning to the group. No alarm, just acknowledgment. The relief almost dropped me in my tracks.
Danny left Noah and approached. He gave me a quick once over.
“What the hell happened to you?”
“Had some big guys tailing me, so I ditched.”
“You too?” He glanced to the milling cluster around Noah. “It’s spooked some, so that’s why we’re missing people tonight.”
The secrets some homeless kept made fear a constant companion. Having enforcers moving through the population, asking questions, sent ripples through the community.
“Who are they?” I infused my voice with what I hoped was the right mix of annoyance and fear. “They weren’t cops.”
“Not cops.” Noah came up behind Danny, his dark eyes angry and intense. “These guys are private. They’ve sniffed around before, looking for our recruitment operation. Trying to close us down. They’re out in full force tonight.”
I nodded, but privately thought it interesting how Noah had spun the story. He must know the enforcers looked for someone, had likely even seen my picture. But his main concern was keeping his own version of events front and center in everyone’s minds. The big wulfan didn’t even give me a second glance.
Noah looked at Danny. “We can’t wait for the others. Too risky. I’m closing up shop here for now. This has become too hot.”
“But they might still come.” Danny sounded worried. Did he count friends among those missing? I noticed Keith in the group. With a pang, I realized the missing were luckier than they knew. If Danny came with us, he’d be infected with the virus, and I couldn’t save him without bringing suspicion on myself.
Noah shook his head. “They might lead those guys right to us. We go. Now.”
The wulfan rounded up the group of fifteen young men and soon we moved with purpose, crossing the tracks to Sutherland and slipping over to Jarvis, close to where Chris had let me off. I followed, my runners dry but my jeans chafing in places I would rather not have chafing, the torn seam gaping open to reveal white skin. The cool night air penetrated my damp clothes with ease, and I shivered as I moved my arms and legs with vigor, clamping my teeth together to keep them from chattering.
Watching my companions, I noticed that they possessed a variety of body types. So much for our theory that only big guys were recruited. Just what did this mutant virus do? How did it make such large wulves, and did it change the size of the human form? I thought of Dillon and how the virus had twisted him into a monster.
Three older-model panel vans appeared ahead in the shadows. We weren’t alone, and as we walked, five men appeared from the side streets to fall in with us. One passed by me and I caught the scent of wulf. I was convinced he was of the wild variety—mutant but lacking the rank scent of madness.
“We good?” Noah asked when one stepped up beside him. I drifted close enough to overhear.
“For the moment,” the other growled. “Damned enforcers are everywhere tonight.”
“They claim they’re looking for some guy, but I think they’re looking for us,” Noah said. “Maybe someone ratted on us.”
“Yeah, well, they’re a pain in the ass. We gotta go.”
Noah made a snarling noise. “We may have to wrap up the operation here for a while. Goddamned enforcers.”
We stopped at the vans and Noah split the group between the three vehicles. Before we got in, the wulfleng pulled out the type of rod-shaped paddles you see at airport security.
“What the hell are those things?” one man asked. Another behind him swore softly.
“We need to make sure we aren’t followed,” Noah said. “We’ve had people try to track us before. Relax, it will only take a second.”
The men didn’t like it, but we all stood still while the wulfleng passed the paddles over and around us. As they scanned me, I thought of the tracker I’d removed. With the various knives and other metal bits and pieces in pockets, the scans took time, and Noah paced while he waited. When they declared us all clear, we climbed into the vans. Five got in with me. Wulfleng got behind the wheels and rode shotgun, with Noah slipping into the last passenger seat.
What about the wulfleng? Were they too new for the virus to make them crazy? Or had the organization perfected the antiviral? I needed to know, but it would have to wait.
The van’s interior had seating installed along the sides. There were no windows, and the view to the front had been cut off by a barrier. A small light in the ceiling cast a sickly glow down on us. Danny sat across from me and we stared at each other as the vans pulled out. He looked nervous. I raised my hood, hunkered down, and closed my eyes as though resting. In reality, I reached for Sam.
The first thing I sensed was her exhaustion, but then I caught glimpses of a paper map of the city stretched on a table before her. I sent her an image of where we’d connected with the vehicles and focused on the meanderings. This was a long shot, and we both knew it. I guessed on the straightaways, noting the stops and turns each time. Through her eyes, I watched her trace the approximate route with a highlighter. After a frantic, twist-and-turn passage through side streets that left me guessing, we accelerated on a straight road—out of Winnipeg, it seemed, and from Sam’s view, moving north on highway 7 toward Stonewall. No wonder the enforcers couldn’t find these guys. You didn’t have to travel far from the city to leave civilization behind. We were heading to the middle of nowhere.
I sent her a mental note of caution. The best-case scenario would have them taking me to their recruitment center where Sam and I could bring the enforcers down on them. But it would take time to assess the situation, and we wanted more than just Noah and his minions. To shut this down, we needed those responsible for stealing the virus. Until I had that information, Sam had to keep the enforcers at bay.
I sensed her reluctance and her fear, but she was a true enforcer. She understood that this was a onetime shot. I either succeeded or the enforcers might never find these guys. I trusted her to determine when to send the cavalry.
The rest was up
to me.
* * *
The van turned off the highway and onto gravel about one hour’s drive from the city’s perimeter. We’d been heading north long enough to be well past the turnoff to Stonewall, and perhaps past Balmoral as well. We would be somewhere in the municipality of Rockwood. I counted on Sam to estimate our location based on the time we traveled and guess at an average speed on the highway, so either way, she could be off by miles. But at least the enforcers would have a place to start, which was more than they had before.
The potholes and washboard on the gravel road were significant, another detail I passed on. When we turned north again, I sensed Sam noting the time. Likely west about three miles before going north. The next time the van deviated, the curving nature of the road indicated a driveway.
“We’re here, wherever here is,” Danny said, with a rather sickly attempt at a smile. Beside him sat a pale-faced Keith, who already looked as though he regretted his decision to come along on this adventure.
When I stepped from the van, it surprised me to see we were inside a large metal building constructed onto a concrete foundation. The other two vans drove in through double sliding doors. Moments later, a nervous group gathered around Noah.
Stairs led to a gangway and a series of what appeared to be offices. There were no windows, and between the suspended overhead lights, ceiling fans revolved. The wulfleng stood back from Noah and a couple leaned on the walls, but they looked ready for action. Noah addressed us, ignoring the wary sidelong glances and shifting of uneasy feet.
“I would like to introduce you to Ace.” Noah turned to look up at the gangway, at a figure leaning against the railing, wulfan by his scent. He was a big guy, even taller and more heavily muscled than Noah, and he surveyed us with an evaluating gaze, as though considering a horse purchase. I didn’t care for it, and by the shuffling of feet around me, many shared my point of view.
“Welcome, gentlemen, to a new and brighter future.” His voice rumbled and snared everyone in its grip, no small feat considering his audience. I focused on him with more interest—that voice and posture had been trained to elicit such a response. Coupled with the buzz cut, I guessed ex-military, officer level.