Rippled (8 page)

Someone dropped a tray on the floor of the other cell as the nurses ran out. Still engrossed in the scene unfolding before us like it was some messed-up thriller, the attendings in my room didn’t move—unfazed, almost as if they’d seen it happen a thousand times before.

The woman in the other room fought against her restraints, and her skin rippled as she did.

She’s…shifting.

Was that how it all started? The virus?

Is this where I started?

I grabbed at the open air with my hands, a sense of urgency coming over me as the other woman continued to shift. I couldn’t join her. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t leopard or human. I was stuck…
in limbo.

The woman’s straps snapped and she crumpled to the floor. Her auburn hair was a wild, tangled mess, falling over her shoulders as she tried to hold herself up on her hands and knees. Watching this should’ve been beautiful—peaceful and fast like when Brian shifted. It wasn’t. It should’ve made me envious. It didn’t.

Every twitch of her body, every strangled gasp told me she was in pain. Not just any pain.
Excruciating
…

My throat tightened when she looked right at me, her irises nearly as dark as her pupils. With her mouth agape, I could only imagine how hard it was for her to breathe. Her spine arched up as high as it could go, and almost looked as if her bones might have broken through the skin, but with her clothes on, it was hard to tell.

I wanted to leave. To get as far away as I could. I didn’t—
couldn’t
—speak. And even as I watched her shift in the most painful of ways, I couldn’t mistake the look in her eyes.

That rage, that feeling of not knowing…I was sure I’d seen somewhere else—in Brian’s eyes, the eyes from…someplace in time I couldn’t remember. There was that nagging feeling again. And then? Nothing.

The woman clawed at the floor, and my heart sank into my stomach when she blinked.
Tears.
Pain, fear and even anger flooded those eyes. Her body jumped. She let loose a feral cry, running right at the wall between our cells.

More voices came from out in the hall—the two nurses, I assumed, along with one more—a male’s voice.
Not Brian.

“Put her down,” the man ordered, his voice sounding terribly familiar.

I narrowed my eyes then almost cried out when someone shot something into the other room. My vision jumped from the woman who was now slumped on the floor to the man I still couldn’t see. There was a lab coat. Maybe some white hair. Then he and other nurses were gone, fleeing down the hall without giving the other woman a second thought.

I watched that room for a long time, stealing a glance whenever one of my attendings weren’t in the way. I didn’t feel them poking me. I didn’t even register they were there. And as the minutes slipped by, I willed the other woman to move. To whimper. She did nothing.

I swallowed, licked my now dry lips and closed my eyes, blinking away my tears. When I opened them again, the nurses in my cell had gone back to work. I looked back over at the other woman.

Don’t let me become her.

Something moved outside my peripheral vision—a large needle filled with I don’t know how many ccs of a relaxant. At least, that was what they called it, but it did a lot more than that. Every time they gave me this particular injection, I was drunk off my ass for days. The hangover wasn’t even the worst of it—having Brian check in on me every hour was. I didn’t mind the company. It was quite the contrary. But I couldn’t stand needing to be watched over or wasting our time together between sleep and hallucinations.

I closed my eyes and waited to feel the cold metal against my skin. The pinch of the needle. It never came. The room fell into silence. Something—someone?—fell onto the floor. I heard nothing else.

Someone placed a hand on my shoulder.
Brian,
I realised.

He shielded my eyes from the light so I could open them again, undoing the straps on my wrists as he spoke. “We need to get you out of here. They won’t be out for long.”

I sat up with his help and rubbed at my wrists, which had red bands around them from the cuffs. My vision swept across the room. My breath caught. The two attendings who had been about to give me my final injection were out cold, lying on the floor. I checked the window, able to see the new shifter in the other room.

I lifted my gaze and exchanged glances with Brian. His intense blue eyes put my brown ones to shame.

“They’re unharmed,” he said, responding to my unspoken question. “Just a little tranquiliser is all.” He helped me off the table and handed me my clothes, which were a lot better than the gown they’d asked me to wear. “It’s getting cold outside. May as well change in here.”

I eyed the sleeping nurses, taking count of their steady breaths and naturally coloured skin.
Just asleep.
He hadn’t hurt them. I shoved my arms into a white blouse and pulled on a pair of jeans while Brian moved the sleepers onto their own exam tables.

“You know, for breaking me out, you sure are nice to the nurses,” I teased, tying my shoes.

“They’re just following orders. But I couldn’t let you have that injection.” He pressed his palms along either side of my face. “Look at me.” I did, and it took everything I had to keep my knees from buckling underneath me. “This had to be done. You remember what I told you about destroying what’s left of the virus?” I nodded, and he continued, “I can’t do it alone, which means I need you to control your shifts.”

“But I—”

“You can’t shift. I know.” He nodded. “Not yet at least, but without these injections and the drugs they’ve been giving you, you will.”

I shook my head. “How do you know they won’t try this again?”
Soon, too.
“They’ll know it was you.”

“No, they won’t. All they saw was a snow leopard, and that could’ve been any one of us.”

“And you’d honestly let them suspect another shifter for this?”

“If that’s what it takes? Yes.”

I bit back a growl. “But you’re the only one who spends time with me.”

“Right, which is why my time with you now will seem normal. There’s no reason for them to suspect me.” He took my hand in his and padded over to the door. “I cannot promise I’ll keep the injections from happening, but I can exchange them for something less…severe.” Brian looked up and down the hall, which was clear. The guards I could see were lying on the ground, sleeping just like the nurses. “Follow me.”

I didn’t argue. I’d already spent too much time in the clinic for one day. My back ached from the hard exam table, and my mind was swimming with drugs, or the lack thereof, as well as Brian’s interference and the other shifter we more than likely were about to leave behind.

“Wait,” I said, pulling against Brian’s arm. “What about her?”

We both looked into the exam room beside mine, and with a little hesitation, Brian stepped inside. “Wait out there.”

“But I can hel—”

“You can’t shift. You won’t be able to fend off her attacks if she wakes.”

I focused on Brian, on his rigid posture as he knelt down beside the new shifter. Her chest didn’t move. She didn’t wake. My stomach tied knots around my middle. When Brian stepped away, his head was down, his eyes looking everywhere but at me.

His cheeks coloured, and when I finally met his gaze, his was as distant as it could possibly get.

“Come on,” he choked, walking a lot faster than before, as if he couldn’t get out fast enough.

“What’s happened to her?” I glanced back over my shoulder at the exam room as it shrunk behind us. Was she breathing?
Is she still alive?

“Malcom’s taken things too far this time. We need to get you out of here. Out of the clinic. Out of the camp. We can’t let him do this again.”

“Do what again?”

“Murder.”

My shoes scuffed the floor as I tried to keep up, losing my balance a few times. Brian caught me before I could fall, and we continued through a variety of halls and doorways.

I’d never really paid attention to how large the clinic was, or how far you had to walk through the halls to reach one of the rooms. It was probably some kind of security measure, but given the fact that Brian had helped in formulating the virus, it didn’t surprise me when he knew his way around.

We stopped at one of the intersections so I could catch my breath. The guard to my right stirred, but he didn’t wake.

Pushing the memory of the other shifter from my mind, I asked, “Where did you get the tranquiliser anyway? Actually, I take that back. I don’t want to know.”

Not that it would’ve taken much for him to get his hands on it. He’d been loyal to Malcom up until now. At least, that was what he’d tried to make me believe.

“Good,” Brian said, squeezing my hand. “Because I wasn’t planning on telling you. All you need to know is that they’re asleep, we’re safe and there’s more where that came from.”

“You think you’ll have to use it again?”

He bowed his head. “To exchange the vials with ones that have placebos in it, I will. Other than that, no. Not unless I really have to.” He wrapped an arm around my waist. “Come on, the exit’s this way.”

Chapter Eight

Krista

Brian wasn’t kidding when he’d said it had got cold outside. I must’ve only been in the clinic for an hour at most, but even in that short amount of time, the overcast skies had grown heavy with snow.
Why did it have to be Nebraska?
Of all the dumb places to put a camp of shifters, why did it have to be Nebraska? The least they could’ve done was to send us someplace where we could kind of feel like we were on vacation.

It wasn’t even winter yet, and already we’d had two major snow storms.
Must be something in the air.
And that was something else I didn’t get. Our
reservation
wasn’t exactly small. Didn’t anyone notice us when they flew overhead? Didn’t they wonder what this place was?

Brian had told me that when they had first been building it—when the government had first got their hands on Malcom and his vials—they’d decided to make it look as if it was a rehabilitation centre for addicts and those who had poor mental health. It was a lie, and a pretty good one at that. I was neither of those, and yet, here I was. Just like everyone else.

Unfortunately for us, even if someone did come looking for answers, the drug addict bit would float. Our individual homes had electric locks, which they activated every single night. And to the outside world, I suppose it did look like a place for addicts and psychos. Houses were lined up in rows with drab roofs and no yards to speak of. There were no pets. No cars.

And if our sad homes didn’t tip them off that this was some messed-up living space, the wire fence around the houses, along with another higher one around the entire facility, would.

After leaving the clinic, Brian led me across the main yard, past a handful of guards and a pair of very vocal shifters on their way home with an escort. The guards looked in our direction, but said nothing. One in particular met my gaze before looking directly at Brian. I bit at my lip, inspecting the guard’s suit of armour and military-grade firearm when we passed.

“This isn’t right,” I said in a thin whisper, slowing down my pace. “What if they know?” My thoughts immediately jumped to the poor woman back at the clinic. “Should we tell—?”

“Everything’s fine,” Brian said, pulling me along behind him.

He seemed to be in as much of a hurry to get me back to my quarters as he was in getting out of sight. From what he’d said, the guards inside the clinic would be awake soon, and neither one of us needed that. Not when we were still out in the open. And certainly not when they found a woman lying dead on the floor.

My stomach turned. If they woke up now and saw him leading me back home, they’d suspect the rogue snow leopard was him for sure.
Not that it matters.
Seeing what Malcom had done—seeing how he’d just walked away—there was no way they’d be worried about me breaking out. No, they’d have other things to worry about.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I froze when the guard from before hurried in our direction. My heart skipped a beat, and I hoped against hope that he was heading for the clinic, which continued to shrink behind us as we walked across the yard.

The guard held his hand out in front of us, extending it to Brian. “Brian, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t she be in the clinic?” He nodded at me.

Brian shook his hand before gesturing in the direction of the clinic. “Darien, I can’t explain right now.” Brian lowered his voice. “There’s been an accident.”

Darien, as Brian had called him, was a little taller than me, and with all the armour he had on, it was hard to say how much of his build was actual muscle and how much was due to the padding he wore.

He’s probably a toothpick under all those clothes.

His brown eyes, though, when we exchanged glances, were soft. Welcoming.
Trustworthy.
Biting my bottom lip, I stood beside Brian, shaking Darien’s hand when he offered it to me. And unlike most handshakes I’d got in the past, his was firm—assertive.
Confident.

“What kind of accident?” Darien asked, his voice wavering the slightest bit. “With you? Her?”

Brian was shaking his head before Darien finished. “A new blood…” His voice trailed off.

“How bad?”

I blinked and glanced up at Darien. Had they seen something like this before?

“Worse than Krista. Worse than any other who came before her,” Brian replied with a sigh.

“Are they breathing at least?”

Neither one of us said a word, and the knot in my stomach got a little tighter.

“Jesus Christ. How did this happen?”

Brian looked to me. “Krista? You were in there when it happened.”

It was an image I was hoping to push from my mind. I spoke, even though my throat felt like hell and my mouth was dry. “I couldn’t see much. The attendings were in the way most of the time.” I swallowed. “Two nurses dragged this woman into the room next to mine, and not because she was unconscious. She was screaming at them—at who I’m assuming was Malcom—and honestly, it sounded like she wasn’t supposed to be here. And come to think of it, neither am I. I remembered…something. It’s just a spark, but I don’t think she was the first one Malcom’s lied to.”