“A gift, yes. Good. We go to finish this.” Volk gestured with an outstretched hand. “Lead. Slowly.”
Spencer looked Volk up and down. “I thought you’d be over this already.”
Volk’s face twisted. “Is difficult. If I had been shot before the change, it would have been easier.”
“Before?”
“Da.”
“Why?”
“Why is the sky blue?” Volk nodded up. “Is just blue.”
“Could it kill you?”
“After change?”
“Yes. After the change.”
Volk looked at Spencer, his mouth turning down. “Why would you ask such a thing? We are good friends, you and I.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Spencer smiled a flat, dead smile. “We are very good friends, Volk. The best of friends. I want to know because soon I’ll need to worry about these sorts of things.”
“Ah.” Volk sighed. “That is good, Captain. It would be bad if I had to kill you and leave your body here.”
Spencer swallowed, the smile leaving his face. “We have a deal.”
“Da. Do not be afraid. I am not hungry.” Volk smiled again. “You will find out soon enough. But no, Captain. Just shooting after the change? Is very hard to kill that way.”
“How are you going to deal with Everard then?”
Volk smiled, saying nothing.
Spencer looked out into the forest. “Fine. Let’s get out of here.”
“Good. Tonight it will be over.”
“Yes. Tonight it will be over.” Spencer led Volk out of the clearing, and John listened to their voices fade away through the trees. He checked his watch, then looked back the way he’d come. No going back that way. He moved away from the tree, then started to jog in the opposite direction to where Spencer and Volk were heading. It would be bad news running into them. Soldiers to the left, sociopaths to the right.
It was going to be a long day.
• • •
John rested against a tree. He’d been jogging for about fifteen minutes, enough to work up a sweat and put some distance from the clearing. Being alone in the forest complicated things a little — he had to get to where Val was. He pulled out his phone, checking the Find My Friends app. The little blue marker showing where Val was had stopped moving. A short chopper ride was still a hell of a long walk.
He dialed a number, waiting as it rung a couple times. A woman’s voice answered. “Did you find him?”
“Jesus, Danny. What’s this? No hello?”
There was a moment of silence from the other end. “Hello. John. How are you.” Her voice was flat.
“That’s better.” John grinned to himself in the forest. “What are you wearing?” The line went dead. John looked at his phone, then dialed again.
“John.”
“The one and only.”
A sigh came down the line. “Did you find him?”
“Yeah.” John nodded to himself. “I found him all right.”
“But he didn’t turn around.” It was hard to tell what was going through Danny's mind without seeing her face, but if John had to pick it she sounded a little relieved.
“No, but we didn’t expect him to. I’ve got the next best thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Wait. Is Melissa there?”
“Yeah.”
“Put me on speaker.” John waited as muffled sounds came down the line.
“You’re on.”
“Christ. I sound like I’m in a goldfish bowl.”
“You wanted to be on speaker.” John was sure Danny sounded exasperated.
“Miles.” It was Carlisle’s voice. “What’s the situation?”
“Hi, Melissa. Look, the situation? It’s a bit more complicated than we thought.”
“It’s Carlisle. How’s that?”
“Well, there’s good news, some more good news, and some bad news.”
There was a pause, then Danny said, “What’s the bad news?”
“Yeah, I always want the bad stuff up front too.” John looked at his watch. “I couldn’t follow Val to where he was going. There was a helicopter and they flew him off somewhere.”
“Shit!”
“Yeah.”
Carlisle spoke up. “What’s the good news?”
“Good news piece number one. I know where Val is.”
“What?” There was a rustling after Danny spoke. “I’ve got a piece of paper. Spill.”
“Relax, there’s no address. It’s in the woods.”
“The woods?”
“Well … it’s not on Google Maps anyway. How cool is this? Val’s been taken to a secret lair. In the forest.” John checked his phone; the line was still open. “Hello? You guys don’t think that’s cool?”
“This isn’t a movie, Miles,” said Carlisle. “It’s not cool.”
“It’s a little bit cool. How many people are villainous enough to have an actual lair?”
“Okay, okay, it’s cool,” said Danny. “You had some other good news?”
“Sure do. This is even better. The bad guys, right?”
“Bad guys?” said Carlisle.
“Yeah, guys in black.”
“Right. We call them suspects.”
“That’s because you have no soul.” John checked the forest around him. Still no company — good. “The suspects? There are now two warring factions.”
“What?” Danny sounded surprised.
“Val and I think that the main party is Elsie Morgan, of Biomne fame. The guys in black? They’re a second faction.”
“How you figure?”
“Saw one of them arguing with the janitor from the hospital.” After a moment, John checked the phone again. Coverage out here was a bitch. “Hello?”
“We’re still here. I just want to check what you just said,” said Carlisle. “You say you saw a soldier arguing with a janitor. In the woods.”
“Yep.” John grinned to himself again. “Except he’s not a janitor.”
“He’s not?”
“No.”
“Then who is he?”
“Some Russian guy.” John cleared his throat. “God damn allergies.”
“A Russian janitor?” said Carlisle.
“Look, the important thing is that he’s a werewolf.”
“What?” said Danny.
“Is the line bad?”
“The line’s fine. You’re not making sense.”
“Okay.” John rubbed his face. “They were talking. Sounds like the janitor is some guy named Volk, who’s a Russian. He’s made a deal with the boss military guy.”
“Captain?”
“Yeah, captain. Sure. His name’s Spencer.”
“The guy from the hospital?” said Danny. “I thought you said it was a janitor.”
“Spencer’s a soldier. The janitor’s Russian.”
“Wait,” said Carlisle. “Let me see if I’ve got this. There’s a captain — Spencer — who’s teamed up with a Russian werewolf named Volk.”
“That’s what I said.” One of them sighed. John wasn’t sure which one.
“So how do you know this Volk is a werewolf?” said Carlisle.
“Said he was going to turn Spencer.”
“Christ.”
“Yeah, just what we need.” John stood up. “We need to get moving. I’m going to come to you, then we’ll head out.”
There was a pause on the line. “Does Val know we’re coming?” said Danny.
“No.” John sighed. “He wouldn’t have gone along with it if he thought it was more than me.”
“I know,” said Danny. “I feel—”
“I know,” said John. “I feel it too. But sometimes you need to stretch the truth to help people out.”
“We’re not stretching it,” said Danny. “We’re lying to him.”
“Yeah.” John scuffed his foot in the forest floor. “Don’t sweat it. I’ll tell him it was all my idea.”
“It was!”
<
br /> “Exactly,” said John.
“Great,” said Danny. “Hurry back.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” John grinned again.
“What question?”
“What are you wearing?”
The line went dead again. John was still grinning as he pocketed the phone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
The chopper chattered into land on a pad set in a wide clearing, leaves and dust scattering in the downdraft from its rotors. Sam flipped some switches in the cabin, then nodded to Val. “We’re here.”
“Great.” Val swallowed, then opened the door hatch. He stepped out onto the landing pad, breathing in the air.
Same forest.
“We haven’t gone far, have we?” he said.
“What?” said Sam. “No, not far. Just a little distance to make sure we weren’t followed.”
“Fair enough.” Val took in a row of prefab buildings in the distance, then looked up at a larger, central building. It was tall, maybe eight or ten stories high, the entire exterior plated in dark glass. The forest had been cleared in every direction; the central building stood like a giant version of the monolith from A Space Odyssey. He whistled. “Nice place.”
“Ms. Morgan spared no expense.” Sam nodded at the larger building. “We’re heading in there. Sorry, it’s a bit of a walk.”
“What is this place?” Val waved his phone. “It’s not on Google Maps.”
“No.” Sam nodded at the phone. “You’ll need to give that to me.”
“Sure.” Val handed it over. “You’d figure something like this was on Google Earth.”
“Google are able to be appropriately incentivised.”
“You paid Google to keep it off the map?”
“Not quite.” Sam grabbed a folder from the helicopter. “One of their executives has a child with a rare condition. There’s an experimental drug that hasn’t passed clinical trials. You know how it is.”
“I guess I do.” Val cleared his throat. “Must be nice to have powerful friends. How do you deal with Bing?”
“We donate to the Gates Foundation.”
“What about Yahoo?”
“No one uses Yahoo.”
“You guys have it all covered.” Val nodded at his phone. “Don’t lose that. I’ll be needing it later.”
Sam gave a half smile. “Later?”
“Don’t sweat it. Lead on.”
“Of course.” Sam lead away from the helicopter pad towards the main building. Val looked up at the building, trying to catch a glimpse of anything. Anyone. The glass tinting was good; he couldn’t make anything out.
“Adalia’s here?”
“Hm? Yes.” Sam held the door open for him, and they walked into a spacious foyer. It was deserted.
“Where is everyone?”
“There’s not many on staff here, Mr. Everard.” Sam led the way to an elevator. “There is only one patient.”
Val looked around the foyer. “One patient? For all this?”
“It’s a very special patient. Ms. Morgan has spared no expense.”
“Do I get to meet your patient?”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” The elevator arrived, and Sam swiped his card over the panel. The doors closed silently, and they started to rise. The elevator was slow and smooth, without the usual lurch of motion.
“Man. This elevator’s something.”
“As I said, no expense was spared.” A large display read the number 4, and the elevator stopped. “Here we are.”
“What’s here?”
“Mr. Everard, I appreciate you have questions. I’m going to take you to a … holding facility for the moment, and then Ms. Morgan will speak with you directly.” Sam led the way again, heading down a corridor. The white walls were featureless as they passed closed door after closed door.
“The queen herself?”
A smile tugged at Sam’s face. “I’m sure she would be quite fond of that description. Yes, Ms. Morgan will speak with you.”
“I wouldn’t have thought she would be comfortable with that.”
“Why not?”
“Because.” Val gestured at himself. “Ah. My condition.”
Sam stopped before a door, and passed his card in front of the lock. A light on the door lit green, and it opened with a click. “Ms. Morgan has an established history with confrontation.”
“She’s going to argue with me?”
“If I have this right,” Sam said, “And I’m not sure that I do — well. If I understand Ms. Morgan at all, she believes the best approach to conflict is to be able to make an offer the other party can’t refuse.”
“That sounds very Corleone.” Val pushed the door open to reveal a small room with a bed, table, and large mirror against one wall.
“It’s more of a win-win. If both people get what they want, then it’s an easy sale.” Sam nodded. “Mr. Everard, I’ll leave you here—”
“There’s no signs.”
“I’m sorry?”
“There’s no signs. Usually a hospital has signs. Radiology, shit like that.”
“Ah. There’s no need for them. This is not a typical hospital. People who work here … well, they know where they’re going and why they’re going there. We like them to think of it like a home away from home. You wouldn’t have signs in your home, would you?”
“I guess not.”
Sam hesitated, then held out his hand. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Everard.”
Val took the handshake. “And you, Sam. Can I make a suggestion?”
“Certainly.”
“Get back in the helicopter and fly out of here.”
Sam looked at his feet. “Why’s that?”
“I don’t think all of us are going to make it out here alive today, Sam.”
Sam nodded at him. “I appreciate the concern, Mr. Everard, but it’s misplaced. Good day to you.”
He closed the door behind him and the lock clicked. Val stared at the door for a moment, then sat down on the bed. “It’s like a gulag,” he said to the empty room. They hadn’t even left him with a TV.
• • •
Val traced the line on the ceiling with his eyes for the hundredth time. It was hard to see, that line, a slight imperfection of the plaster. He’d had nothing to do but stare at the ceiling for an hour or so. Sam had taken his phone — he couldn’t even play a shitty game.
“Mr. Everard.” The voice startled him upright. He saw that the mirror had turned into a screen, an older woman — still fit and trim, but showing the marks of time — looking at him, larger than life. It was a head and shoulders anchor shot, like from a newsroom. He recognized the voice straight away.
“Neat trick.” Val got off the bed and walked over to the screen. “I hadn’t noticed it was a monitor, Elsie.”
“Indeed.” Elsie looked him up and down. “You’re—”
“Don’t say it.” Val nodded at the mirror. “You can do better than that.”
She smiled. To Val’s eye, she looked more tired than happy. “Better than what, Mr. Everard?”
“You were about to say that you expected someone taller.”
“I was about to say that you’re looking well, for someone who’s been shot. More than once, if reports are to be believed. I’ve even seen some video. It’s … it’s more than we’ve hoped for. I hope you don’t mind me saying that.”
“You shouldn’t believe everything you see on TV.” Val nodded at the door. “Am I prisoner here?”
“I’m not sure. Are you?”
“Sam locked me in.”
“I think we both know that door’s not going to hold you. Sam’s locked other people out.”
Val nodded, thinking for a moment. “Where to from here? I’ve done as you’ve asked. I’m here.”
“You’re referring to Adalia.”
“I am.”
“Once we extract the virus—”
“You what?”
“Extract.
The virus.” Elsie looked down at something Val couldn’t see. “You carry a very special, very unique pathogen.”
“I don’t really feel sick. I feel better than I ever have.” Val breathed in deep, then let it out. “It’s a funny virus, if that’s what it is.”
“How so?”
“Okay. First.” Val ticked them off on his fingers. “It makes me faster and stronger.”
“Yes.”
“I haven’t finished. Second.” He held two fingers up to the glass. “It makes me hard to kill, in the traditional sense.”
“What do you mean by traditional?”
“You’re a clever lady. You’ve seen the videos, as you say. Three.” Val cleared his throat. “This one’s the killer. It turns me into a monster.”
“Yes. We’re having trouble reconciling that one ourselves.” Elsie tipped her head sideways slightly, studying him. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“You should try it from this side.”
“Hm. Yes.” Elsie smiled the tired smile again. “Unfortunately, we don’t have a lot of time to puzzle through it. Our usual … more scientific approach won’t be useful here.”
“How’s that? You’re the head of big pharma.”
“Our … client is on a tight schedule.”
“Your client is dying.” Val sighed. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”
Elsie’s eyes flicked to his face. She was looking for something, Val wasn’t sure what. “Yes.”
“You could have just asked.” Val walked over to the window, staring out at the forest. He nodded to himself. “Figures.”
“What figures?”
“What? Oh. Nothing.” Val turned back to Elsie. “Why didn’t you ask? You’ve—”
No. That memory lives in darkness.
“—killed. People.” He gritted his teeth. “Children.”
“You must understand, Mr. Everard.” Elsie fiddled with her glasses. “The loss of life is something I deeply regret.”
“Hm.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Are you?” Val gestured at the room. “Really sorry. You know, do you regret it? This facility. It speaks of a grand design. It’s not on the Internet, for Christ’s sake. Whatever’s here, it’s important to you. A couple of people, dead? Probably just a rounding error to someone like you.”
Elsie sighed on the screen. “No.”
“It’s not a rounding error?”
The Night's Champion Collection: A supernatural werewolf thriller trilogy Page 29
