by Eve Langlais
“Notice how no outsiders can get close enough to shove their nose in your business,” Luke taunted.
Chimera’s lips quirked. “It is much harder for the health inspector to shut us down.”
“Is what you’re doing legal?” Not that Luke cared. A desperate man didn’t give a shit about laws.
“If you’re asking if the government knows we’re here, then yes. I’ve been given permission to conduct my studies.”
“Studies?” Luke snorted. “Is that a nice way of saying testing on human subjects?” And before Chimera could retort, he laughed. “Listen, I don’t mind, so you don’t have to make excuses. I know how red tape halts a lot of shit in its tracks.”
“Which is a shame. If you knew all the potential cures currently buried by paperwork and rules—”
“Rules to prevent scientists from playing God,” Luke interrupted.
“Those rules are letting people die. Letting people suffer needlessly.” Chimera indicated Luke’s numb leg. “Do you deserve to suffer?”
For a moment the faces of those he killed flashed in front of him. They screamed yes, yes, he should suffer for an eternity, but he whispered, “No.”
“I can fix you. Of that there is no doubt. However, according to the government and their rules, because I haven’t jumped through a hundred hoops, you should wait. Then even if we manage to get past the trials, do you know how many cures never make it to shelves because of pharmaceutical companies that bribe the government? They’re not interested in cures. There’s no money in curing people.”
“Are you trying to say you’re not interested in money?” Luke made a noise. “I call bullshit.”
Chimera laughed. “Oh, I’m in it for the money. Mostly so I can expand my research.”
“Speaking of expanding, this place is kind of small.” A two-story building with boxes lining the halls and more tarped outside. “Not to mention hard-to-get supplies.” Only a small road through the mountains that could disappear with a single landslide. “Doesn’t seem like the ideal place to make your mark in the world of medicine.”
“What you say is true. This place isn’t quite yet ready for all the things I’ve got planned. But that will change.” Chimera stood by the window and stared out. “The work on expanding the labs and facility have already begun.”
“Is that why I hear banging and machinery?” As if from a distance.
“We’re almost done.”
“I don’t think I understand,” Luke said. “Are you hiding another building?”
“You might say so. The true clinic is actually underground, and it will be the most wondrous thing the world will have ever seen. We will find a cure for everything.”
“Seems optimistic.”
“It’s already happening.” Chimera pivoted and pointed to an image on the wall. A man in a wheelchair shrunken in on himself and slumped. “Look closely.”
His crutch under one arm, Luke hop-walked over to the wall for a squint. Then a frown as he stared. “Who is that in the wheelchair? Is it supposed to be someone I know?” Because he sure as hell didn’t recognize the hunched figure.
“It’s me.”
“You?” He remembered Chimera saying something about treating himself, but he’d assumed a minor injury. “It doesn’t look like you.”
“Not anymore. That was when I suffered from motor neuron disease. The same thing that afflicted the genius Hawking. A horrible illness. The body won’t cooperate, but the mind…the mind is willing. But trapped. When you’ve got nothing to plan all day but escape, you find a solution.”
“You cured motor neuron?” Impressive feat.
“More like transformed it.” Chimera gestured to himself. “I exchanged the effects of the disease for something else.”
“For what?”
“That would be giving away my secret.” Chimera winked.
“Can you do the same for me?” Luke could have smacked himself for the naked hope in his query. Doubtful they could do the same, given his wounds left deep scars. This wasn’t a case of removing a disease. He had permanent damage.
“I guess we’ll soon find out. Are you ready to start the treatment?”
Luke was more than ready. He lay on that bed voluntarily. Didn’t complain much about the first round of drugs. They made him tired and ill.
Summer passed into fall. The treatments continued, and he felt worse. His body trembled. His moods were erratic.
His thoughts…more bloodthirsty than when he’d served in the war. His impatience grew, as did the pain in his body.
There came a day when he couldn’t even rise from the bed. Sweat oozed from every pore. He was burning up.
As was his habit every morning, Chimera came to see him, adjusting the bag on a pole, a bag with a muddy-looking concoction.
“What’s wrong with me? I feel like shit,” Luke said through dry and cracked lips.
“An unfortunate side effect. Your body is fighting the change. It will end soon.”
It didn’t. It got worse. More painful. A man who’d always been brave, he screamed for death. Begged for mercy. Sobbed like the most craven of cowards.
He weaved in and out of consciousness, hating himself. Hope had put him in this bed to be tortured. It was becoming obvious he wasn’t going to get better.
The treatment failed. Once he realized that, the next time Chimera came to see him, Luke pled with him. “Kill me. It’s not working. Let me die.”
“It will work,” Chimera insisted. “Your body is just being stubborn.”
“It hurts.” Luke sobbed, ashamed and unable to stop. “It hurts so much.”
“I’m sorry, my friend. Let me help you.” The doctor injected something in the IV hydrating his body. “Sleep.”
When Luke closed his eyes, winter gripped the land, the swirl of white snow bright in his window. The next time he woke, the leaves were falling from the trees. Which made no sense. Surely, he’d not slept through two entire seasons.
But he didn’t hurt.
He was thirsty as fuck, though. He waved a hand around, searching for the table by his bed, not finding a cup or pitcher of water.
A nurse entered, her jaunty cap with its red cross askew, her mouth agape. “You’re awake. Doctor Chimera! He’s awake.”
She sounded shocked. Surprised. Whereas he felt weak. Drained.
Looking down at himself, the frail body under the sheet didn’t register at first until he moved his trembling hand to grip the sheet.
His frail hand.
“What the fuck?” He tried to swing his legs out of the bed. They flopped over the side and left him panting with exertion. Before he could test his balance by standing, Chimera was there.
“Slow down, Luke. Your body isn’t ready for you to move too fast.”
“My body feels like it was run over by a truck, dumped in a river weighed down by rocks.” Lethargy pulled at him despite him just waking. “What’s wrong with me?”
“We put you in a coma to handle the pain of your treatment. You’ve been asleep a long time.”
“Apparently. How long was I out?”
Chimera’s lips pressed in to a line. “Longer than expected. Your body proved resistant to the treatment.”
“So I did miss spring and summer.”
“You did. It’s been almost nineteen months since we induced you.”
“Nineteen…” The word whispered from his lips.
“Like I said, longer than expected. Each time we tried to rouse you, the change still gripped you. But there is good news in all this.”
“Good how?” He’d lost almost two years of his life.
“Move your leg.”
“My leg?” He stared down dumbly at the pasty skin, noting he wore nothing under the sheet. His leg partially hung out. He kicked it. “What about it?”
“Notice anything different?”
It took his sluggish mind a moment before he clued in. “You fixed it.”
He began pumping both his leg
s and then, despite the warning, pushed himself off the bed, stumbling as his knees buckled.
Chimera caught him. Held him upright. “Steady, Luke. Give yourself a moment.”
He didn’t need a moment to realize the steady pain in his hip from his injury was gone. Actually, apart from the fatigue pulling him and the weakness of his limbs, he felt good.
Damned good.
“I’m healed.” He said it softly as if proclaiming it too loud would take it away.
“Mostly. We’re not quite done yet with you.”
Not done? Did Chimera not grasp what this meant? Luke wasn’t infirm anymore. He could do anything, even rejoin the army.
That shining moment still haunted him years later. He should have fled then and there. Or as soon as rehab had him walking and running. But he’d trusted Chimera. Trusted the man’s word.
He said he’d make me even better.
Problem was Chimera’s version of improved didn’t jibe with Luke’s perception at all. In the beginning, Luke enjoyed his renewed health, ignored the strange quirks he developed.
But he couldn’t ignore what happened to the others. Couldn’t ignore the fact that those who tried to leave, to go past those mountains, always returned.
Usually in body bags.
Chapter Nine
Becky’s door was closed, so Margaret chose to brave the outdoors on her own. The weather hadn’t improved. The first wet gust in the face proved it the moment she stepped outside. She didn’t let it deter her, moving away from the building, letting the crisp freshness of the air outside fill her lungs. Clear out the stale, recycled air from inside.
It didn’t clear her mind.
What did Luke mean when he said he’d also seen her naked? Was he just parroting her words? Because anything else was crazy.
A dream remained just a dream. He didn’t share it with her. That kind of thing didn’t happen. And even if it did, it wouldn’t be with a stranger.
Although he wasn’t such a stranger anymore. Her afternoon session with him went better than expected despite her less-than-orthodox methods.
Flirting with him did the trick, even if she cringed at how morally bankrupt that made her. Leading on a patient. The lowest of lows. Yet, it worked. He ate. He drank.
She’d won, and all she had to do was eat a banana and blow a spoon. Not his cock. Really, she hadn’t done anything horrible or that sexual even. Now explain that to her body. It protested that she’d brought herself outside in the chilly damp rather than to her room for a quick fix.
A second urge to masturbate and the day only half done. What was happening with her? She’d not been this horny since her teens. What could be the cause?
Luke. His name whispered in her mind.
She shook her head. No. She refused to believe he alone was the cause. More like she’d finally gotten past her intense dislike of men. Funny how a few bad experiences could make a girl totally shut down. It had been months now since her breakup—with that jerk whose face she couldn’t even remember—longer since she’d had sex. Not that sex was the be all and end all that people made it out to be. She’d never understood the big deal. She had better orgasms when she masturbated. Still, there was something to be said about having another body next to yours. That intimate contact.
That was why she felt lusty around Luke. It missed that intimacy. The touch of another person, a need she could easily fix. Time to say yes to one of the many offers of no-strings satisfaction.
If only any of the guys around appealed.
None did. Just one man made her panties wet.
The one man she couldn’t have. Which probably explained why she lusted. She knew he was off-limits, which made him a safe object to desire.
Despite her actions thus far, Margaret had a line she wouldn’t cross. She might indulge in teasing and verbal exchanges; however, she would never go any further. Not only because to do anything would be wrong but also because she was much too aware of the cameras. Hence why she’d kept her back to it while sitting on his bed. Let them hear but not see what she did.
Her steps took her to the soggy field with its muddy running track. She’d not bothered to put on her running shoes, not wanting to ruin them in the mud. She wore insulated rubber boots, the kind that kept her feet warm and dry.
She wore a sweater with a hood she could pull up if the weather abruptly turned nasty. Not exactly the nicest day for a stroll outside; however, given the claustrophobic feeling of being underground most of the day, she felt a need for some exercise. A mindless walk proved the perfect thing, and she followed the beaten track, looping around it, her steps bringing her close to the gray shore of the lake.
The rippling waves, wrought by the smallest of breeze, drew her attention. She approached the lake’s edge and stared at it. The edge fell away sharply, the stony bank more of a cliff than a beach. She couldn’t see anything today, not with the overcast skies and choppiness of the water. On a sunny day, a person could admire the multi-hued rocky bottom and the fish that swam in its depths. One of the guards swore he’d seen a mermaid in there once.
But no one took him seriously. Mermaids didn’t exist.
Just like men invading her dreams proved an impossibility.
With the wind biting through her jacket, she resumed walking, following the mucky trail, her skin and hair dewing with the heavy moisture in the air. It would rain again. The dark clouds promised a downpour, and soon. However, she wasn’t ready to entrench herself indoors quite yet.
At the top end of the track, she again paused. Stared at the dense line of forest, less than fifty yards away. She’d never been inside the woods. Rumors of bears were enough to keep her away. She’d heard other stories, too. Tales of creatures that no one could identify. Screams at night. Howling, too.
Possibly tall tales told by men who enjoyed hearing the squeals of women, like Becky, who listened raptly and hung on to their every word.
Monsters didn’t exist. But a wolf pack might find her tasty.
As Margaret continued to watch, her skin prickled, the kind of tingle that usually meant someone spied on her. Probably the sniper on the roof. She’d yet to see them actually shoot anything. Which was a good thing. She liked her meat on a plate, well cooked and not hunted in front of her.
The feeble light lessened as the heavy rain clouds smothered the land. She’d better hurry if she didn’t want to get soaked. She turned from the woods and began to walk the mucky track. She had only gone a few strides when a sound startled her. A woman’s cry.
Did I imagine it? Probably a bird or some other creature.
It occurred again, and she could swear it sound like a plea for aid. She glanced at the forest and gasped. A pale figure appeared to be standing between two thick trunks.
Probably a trick of light and shadows.
Except she could swear she heard a whisper. “Help.”
“Is anyone there?” Her feet left the beaten track, and she took long strides toward the trees. The white shape flitted to the side. Not a trick then. There was something there.
Halfway to the woods, Margaret paused. “Hello. Are you okay?”
No reply.
“Do you need help?”
She saw nothing and was deciding whether to move forward or not when the skies opened up.
“Dammit.” The rain quickly soaked through her jacket and sweater, making her choice for her. She whirled and began trudging toward the building. Running on uneven and slick terrain would just end up with her splatting ignobly or twisting her ankle.
“Hey.” The distant shout brought her chin up, and her gaze sought the building in the distance. She saw the man on the roof, standing, waving his gun.
She waved back.
“Duck,” he yelled as he aimed his gun at Margaret.
What on earth? Was he going to shoot?
A noise from behind had her whirling.
Her eyes widened.
What the hell is that?
Something came
running at her from the woods, a loping creature on four legs with long, white hair streaming over a humped back. A mouth opened on terrifying yellow teeth. Yet it was the eyes, alight and hungry, that frightened her most.
Those eyes were almost human if one forgot about the fact they glowed amber. But the rest of it…
Monster.
“Oh my God.” Whirling, Margaret forgot about any possible injury and began to run.
Crack. Crack.
The gunfire did nothing to stem her panting breath or slow her steps. Did the sniper aim true and take care of the thing from the woods?
She cast a glance over her shoulder and shrieked as she saw the thing, jaw open wide, drool rolling down its chin to glisten wetly. It ululated as it closed the gap between them.
Whirling fully, Margaret faced it, knowing she couldn’t outrun it. “Go away. Shoo!” she yelled, hoping the noise would scare it.
As if anything with those wild eyes and snapping teeth would frighten so easily.
When it was still a few yards away, it leapt. She managed to get her arms up to block it. The thing slammed into her hard, knocking the breath out of her, stealing her scream.
Margaret hit the ground with the creature on top of her, its rancid breath washing over her face. She did her best to keep the jaws from getting close enough to chew, her hands trembling as she fought to stay alive. The flesh she gripped was soft and covered in a light, downy fur, and this close, the humanity she thought she’d seen in the eyes was lost behind the savagery.
“No. Please, no. Oh God.” She mumbled and keened the words as she struggled, not strong enough to hold it off forever.
The thing managed to rake claws over her cheek, drawing a sharp gasp, but it also gave her a chance, as it only had one front leg supporting it. She shoved her knees under and pushed, managing to heave it aside.
She rolled over and shoved to get to her feet, only to scream as it yanked on her ankle. It felt like fingers gripping her. How was that possible?
She kicked and connected with flesh, causing the thing to utter a sharp howl.
Great, she’d pissed it off. She heard distant yelling and the crack of more bullets. And here she was standing in the way of the target.
