The Containment Team (14 page)

Director Pratt’s eyebrows rose until they disappeared into his gray hair. “Sanders. Explain. Now.”

“I had just come from the lab.”

“What were you doing there in the first place? Who let you in.”

Pete’s forehead was drenched now and he was studiously avoiding eye contact with any of us. “I was checking the green samples. Alicia—Er, I mean Doctor Garbet was with me as well. I was helping her. After Doctor Garbet went down to the bullpen, I came here to catch up on some work when I was attacked in the stairwell. They had the blood film and were howling. I am surprised that you didn’t hear it. It was quite loud.”

Pete paused as if to give Pratt a chance to explain why he had missed the commotion but the director stared until Pete continued on.

“Well, they chased me and I ran. They followed me all the way back to my dorm where they attacked us.”

“And you expect me to believe that is all the blutom left after you liberated it from the bodies?” Pratt nodded toward the box. “Did you burn the rest of it? What happened to the corpses? Why didn’t you call in the containment team?”

Pete gulped. “I didn’t have the number.”

Pratt shook his head. “And in your haste to resolve the situation you decided to come back here with your friends. Do you realize you’ve broken half a dozen federal laws tonight? Not to mention violated a dozen other company policies.”

I was beginning to feel bad for Pete. We had insisted on coming with him and had refused to take no for an answer. All of the sudden his stonewalling took on a different light. There was some culpability on our parts in all of this as well. I was about to speak up but Madelyn must have figured out what I was planning to do. She grabbed my hand. When I looked at her, she shook her head and gave me a squeeze.

What was I missing?

“My actions are defensible.” Pete was turning red now. “Every single one of them. Our nation is under attack tonight and they came with me to ensure I could make it in here and get the number for the containment team.”

“Something you should already have had on hand. Three specimens escaping hardly qualifies as a threat to our nation—”

Hold on, did he say specimens? That implied that they were undertaking human experimentation. Had Pete lied about that?

I cleared my throat. It had a jarring effect on Pratt, who seemed to have forgotten about the rest of us as he’d focused in on his castigation of Pete.

“Uh,” I said, “haven’t you been watching the news? Times Square?”

“Pete,” Pratt said, “what have you done?”

“This isn’t my fault. It has to be that burglary. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

“Or it could be we haven’t been stringent enough in our hiring processes. Get out of here, all of you.”

Pete opened his mouth, clearly intending to say something more to Pratt but then he thought better of it and spoke to us instead. “Come on guys, it’s time to go. This is Director Pratt’s mess now.”

Pratt folded his arms and looked at us each in turn. “If I ever see any of you here again there are going to be consequences. For this time only, I will let it slide. Sanders, I’ll deal with you on Monday. Pray that I don’t decide to bring the authorities in on this.”

I didn’t move. “What assurances do we have you are going to be able to handle this situation? People are dying.”

Pratt’s eyebrows rose up into his hair again. “You question me?” His eyes were on fire again but his face didn’t show a hint of emotion.

“Come on, Buckshot,” Pete said. “Let’s go. It’s okay. He knows who to call.”

“Has this containment team of yours ever fought against a blutom monster?” I asked. “We have hands on experience. It’s in your best interest to not send us away but to use what we know to your benefit. Give me ten minutes with your containment team and they’ll be able to avoid a bunch of blunders. It might even save their lives.”

“Go now. My patience is dwindling and I’m a heartbeat away from calling the police.”

I snorted. “They’re too busy trying to save the town.” A large hand grabbed me from behind and I reached for the pistol hid under my coat until I realized that it was Pete.

“It’s going to be fine, Buckshot. This is on him.”

I’d known Pete for a long time and I could always tell when there was something more going on than he was letting on. It was part of the reason why I had been so persistent with him earlier. I’d known he was holding back. He still was, despite everything that we’d already learned. Something in the tone of his voice set my skin crawling as his fingers dug into my arm.

As I let him pull me away, I looked back but Pratt had already gone.

Pete sped up as we walked. “That wasn’t Director Pratt. It was a really good imitation of him.” He shook his head, swearing. “But he knew my name and clearance level. This is not good. And it also explains a lot.”

“He’s been shifted,” I said.

“Yep, and it’s been that way for months, possibly years. He conducted the investigation after the blutom was stolen. No wonder why we never found it.” That wasn’t everything, there was something more. I didn’t doubt it. It was as if a question he’d long sought the answer for had just been found. 

“Didn’t you say that nobody took a vacation right afterward?”

“That’s exactly my point.” Pete was avoiding eye contact. “He was the one that told us that. There were days when he didn’t come out of his office. The rumor went around that he’d been sleeping here, stressed about finding the missing blutom.” Pete chuckled mirthlessly to himself. “That whole time he could have been shifting, right under our noses. It was that or he was protecting somebody else.”

THE DOOR TO the stairwell slammed shut behind us before Pete finally let go of the death grip he had on my arm. His hair was slick with sweat and he looked more scared than he had all day. He hadn’t been afraid when fighting all the blutom monsters. During the course of the evening, it was Madelyn and me that had bothered him the most. If anything, he’d almost seemed to enjoy the hand-to-hand combat with the monsters.

“What makes you so certain he’s shifted?” I asked.

Pete gulped down a breath. “It was his eyes, they’ve changed color to black. The same thing happened in the rats.”

“Don’t rats already have black eyes?” I asked. 

“Some do,” Pete admitted, “but after shifting every rat had black eyes.”

“Other than being pissed at you, he seemed normal enough to me.” Madelyn folded her arms. “Perhaps you imagined it.”

“The rat eyes always changed color once the process of shifting was done.” He paused for emphasis. “Always. Pratt’s eyes were blue before.”

“I don’t know, Slammer,” I said. “I have to agree with Mad on this one. He didn’t appear to have above normal human intelligence.”

“That was the effect in rats. We don’t know what happens with humans. Rats have inherent physical limitations that kept us from fully testing their capabilities.”

“I thought you said they were self-aware?”

“They are. Or at least that is the theory. But it’s not as if rats have a tongue or lips that are going to allow them—we’re going off track. Pratt has shifted.”

“The guy seemed off to me.” We all looked at Ron. “What, can’t I have an opinion too? I was holding a shotgun. He didn’t seem alarmed or bothered. Any normal person would have freaked at an armed man. He barely gave me a second look.”

We all continued to stare at him. He was right, of course. Pratt not being bothered by the shotgun was a big deal.

“He might not have seen it,” Madelyn said. “You weren’t pointing it at him and he was focused on Pete.” 

Ron looked to the side and muttered. “It wasn’t normal.”

“Ron’s got a point,” I said, looking at each of us with fresh eyes. All of us had at least one gas can. Anyplace we could stuff a Molotov cocktail had been used. My pack was another oddity and I had cocktails stuffed in every possible crevice. Pratt should have noticed all of this and been alarmed. He hadn’t even looked at any of our armaments. “That’s a solid point. Assuming then that Pratt—”

“This is unbelievable,” Pete said, shaking his head. “It’s the squirt that tried to kill us an hour ago that you believe.”

“Do you really want to get into questions of credibility?” Madelyn growled. “This coming from the man who can’t decide if he’s going to tell the truth or lie from minute to minute. Leave him alone. We’re convinced. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Besides, his argument is based on an observation that we all saw, not your wily tongue. I can’t decide if you’re still trying to hold things back because of your contract or if you’re actively trying to deceive us for your own reasons. Don’t think I forgot about the fact that you pretended you didn’t want to go to the lab instead of telling us that you didn’t have access.”

“Why am I—”

“Stop it,” I said, “both of you. Focus on what’s important. If Pratt has shifted, he’s not going to be calling in the containment team. We have got to get that moving. Is there another way to get the contact information? Do you have access to another computer somewhere else where you can obtain it?”

Pete licked his lips and looked at Madelyn. “The only floor I have access to is this one.”

“Would your login credentials work on another computer or does it have to be the one at your desk?”

Pete thought about it. “I’m not sure. My guess is that the only place my password works is at my computer. I know what you’re thinking, let’s try and find our way onto another floor.” He shook his head. “It won’t work. I’m positive now. My first day I watched the tech guy set up my account. The only place I have access is my computer.”

“Was the information printed out anywhere?” Madelyn asked. “Maybe in a break room or at a receptionist desk?”

“No.”

“You had a bunch of numbers on your wall,” Ron said. “What’s that all about?” He was mimicking Madelyn’s tone of contempt, perhaps he felt like Pete was his competition. I wondered what Ron would think when he learned that she and I used to go out.

“Those are the interoffice numbers. The numbers we need come from a different list.”

“You don’t have the contact information for anybody else from work?” Madelyn asked. “There wasn’t a girl you dated? A guy you went for drinks with? Nothing?”

“Nope. Sorry. The people I knew outside of work are all in pieces back in the dorm bathroom. Our only options are to go back through that door or come up with another plan.” He looked at me. “The news of Times Square has gone national. The team is probably already active.”

I held up my hand and ticked off three fingers. “It’s the early hours of the morning. We just learned one of your directors has shifted. And there are monsters loose in town. Do you really want to just hope everything is going to be okay?

“What’s so special about this containment team, anyway?” Ron asked. “As Morty said, we have the practical hands-on experience.”

I growled at his use of Madelyn’s nickname for me. She gave me an apologetic look while Pete beamed at the awkwardness of Ron calling me by her pet name. Whenever I introduced myself it was always as my middle name, Arnold. While we’d been dating, I had tolerated Madelyn’s use of her version of my first name, but I wasn’t about to let this pipsqueak adopt it as his. I opened my mouth but Pete cut me off.

“The team should have already thought through the scenarios,” Pete said. “They might have developed another method of fighting the blutom monsters that doesn’t risk burning everything to the ground.”

I set down my pack, pulled out my shotgun and racked a shell into the chamber. It felt good to have it in my hands again. If Ron called me Morty again…

No, I couldn’t even pretend I wanted to shoot him after all the monsters I’d shot today. There had already been too much carnage and mayhem.

“Let’s get going,” I said. “Mad and Ron, you stay here with the pack and the extra gas cans. Have a few Molotov cocktails ready just in case.” I grabbed one of the containers of gas. As I hefted it, I wondered again at Pratt’s lack of suspicion towards us. It was amazing he’d even approached us, considering everything we’d had. Each of us has been carrying at least one container of gas. To a normal person, we must have looked like we were planning to torch the place. 

Pratt hadn’t commented on Ron’s gun or the gas or the cocktails. He’d also taken the opportunity to dress down Pete. Not the actions of a normal person who would have taken one look at what we were carrying and called the police.

“How would the monster know things about you that only Pratt would have known?” I asked. “When they take over the body do they have access to the memories of their host as well?”

“We don’t think so. We did a bunch of research on whether or not the shifted rats maintained their memories and it was conclusive that they didn’t.”

“But if the rats are self-aware,” Madelyn said, “they might have hidden what they know.”

Pete shook his head. “It’s possible but I don’t think that is the case. You should see what the blutom does to their brains, it basically turns it to mush. No, there’s probably another explanation. Every single thing Pratt mentioned can be found in the employee files, the operations manual, or company handbook.” He frowned. “Now that I think about it I don’t know that Director Pratt—the real one—has ever called me by name before. Guys, I’m certain. He’s shifted.”

“I hope you’re right.” I held a jug of gas out to Pete. “If he finds us again, I’ll wait for you to drench him first.”

“The shifted rats are not nearly as aggressive. Let’s hope it works the same way in humans.” Pete still took the jug I offered him and picked another up off the floor.

I knelt and opened the door. “Stay below the cubicles.” With a look that said he wasn’t stupid, Pete went through at a crouch, I followed after I warned the others to be careful. Madelyn rolled her eyes as I disappeared. They both probably thought I was stating the obvious, but as we had so little room for error, I would prefer to annoy them then have something happen because of a stupid mistake.

I eased the door shut after me, careful to hold the handle as the latch clicked back into place. The sound seemed to reverberate through the air and I clenched my teeth as I brought up my shotgun and looked around.

The floor was silent.