Wylde

by S. C. Mitchell

  Yeah, his father hadn’t changed much. Bastard.

  “Johnny’s smarter than you think. You’ve always misjudged him.” A third voice, gruff sounding, guttural. Almost a growl.

  “Shut up. No one asked your opinion.”

  Wylde risked a quick glance through the small window in the door.

  The lab hadn’t changed much over the years. Animal cages lined the back wall. His stood empty. A grown wolf occupied the next. Could that be Piotr?

  Piotr hadn’t been much older than Natasha and Wanda’s pups when he’d left, but his old friend’s scent was in the room. Poor guy. He’d never known the joy of running free in the forest.

  Wylde’s father stood in the midst of chaos, various experiments littered tables and the floor space of the cavernous chamber. Slightly grayer and more stooped then when he’d last seen him, the bastard confronted a blond-haired man, matching the description Dr. Locklear had given him of Randy Trevor.

  He didn’t see a third person, though he’d heard three distinct voices.

  Probably a guard standing by the door, out of view of the window.

  Still, he could handle three, and he needed those keys.

  He pulled open the door and bounded into the room, looking quickly right and left for the third man. There was no one else there.

  Well, two were easier than three, and both men had a good beating coming. Maybe that third voice had come from an intercom or something.

  “John.” His father’s shock was genuine. Good he had surprised them.

  Randy pulled a pistol from a shoulder holster under his suit jacket and pulled back.

  Wylde charged him. First things first. Randy and the keys. He’d deal with his father later. The old man wasn’t even armed.

  Randy shot as he approached. Thwip.

  Thwip?

  The dart struck him in the shoulder.

  Shit.

  He yanked it out as quickly as he could. Still, he felt the drugs sapping his strength as his head spiraled toward unconsciousness.

  “No. Not this time. I’m making this chapter a little longer.” Forcing his steps, he advanced on Randy, as the Mutalon in his system fought the drugs.

  Must . . . stay . . . conscious . . . for . . . Dove.

  “Oh, this is good,” his father cackled from the right. A slimy stench emanated from that direction, and a shuffling movement. But Wylde kept his focus on Randy and putting one foot in front of the other. He’d deal with his father after.

  Throwing himself to the side, he managed to dodge Randy’s second shot. Then he spun, delivering a roundhouse kick to the side of Randy’s head.

  As he spun he’d noted the large black mass where his father had been standing. His head still fogged by the drugs, he tried to piece a picture together.

  And failed.

  Focus.

  Randy flew back and down, hitting the floor hard.

  The spiraling in his mind ebbed as his healing factor kicked in. “Keys. Give me the cell block keys.” Wylde kind of hoped the man would refuse so he could hit him a few more times.

  This was the guy who took Dove. God knows what he did to her. When he freed Dove, he’d ask, then come back and give this bastard what he deserved.

  A white, fibrous rope, about an inch thick, shot from above at an angle across his path, smacking the floor with a splat.

  He grabbed it to push it out of the way and his hand stuck. What the hell?

  A second rope struck his right thigh, then it was pulled, throwing Wylde off balance.

  He tumbled to the right, gaining enough slack to turn and confront this new assailant.

  A huge creature towered over him. The body of a giant, hairy spider, but with his father’s head. “Sit, John. I haven’t given you permission to attack Mr. Stravinsky.”

  As Wylde struggled to extract himself from the sticky ropes, his father launched more at him from an aperture in the creature’s ass-end. No, not ropes, webs. The bastard had turned himself into a freakin’ spider monster. It stood almost ten feet high, on eight long, multi-jointed legs.

  With the sharp tips of his forelegs, the monster started rolling him. Wrapping him in the webbing.

  He managed to break one rope by pulling it apart, but the pieces stuck to his hands so that he couldn’t get a grip on a second. All the time the spider creature rolled him tighter, cocooning him in the thick webbing being extruded from its ass.

  His father’s leering face beamed down at him. “Surprise, Johnny boy, I’ve changed. Good to know you haven’t.”

  Around and around, wrapping his arms tight to his body. He could barely move.

  Then Randy was standing over him, aiming at his exposed upper chest and neck. Thwip, thwip.

  Two darts stung with more poison than his healing factor could deal with. Everything swirled to black.

  Chapter 12

  “Johnny, wake up, man.”

  Wylde didn’t recognize the voice, except that it sounded like the third person he’d heard through the door of his father’s lab. Gruff, guttural.

  His mind whirled back to consciousness and he opened his eyes.

  He was naked and once again in the cell he’d occupied for a good portion of his youth. A prisoner of Red Guard . . . and his father.

  “Johnny? You awake?”

  He rolled over to confront the speaker.

  Big golden eyes stared at him through the bars of the cage next to his.

  “Piotr?”

  The wolf bared his teeth. Or was he . . . smiling? “Hi, buddy. Long time no see.”

  “You can talk.” That was new.

  His father had been putting Wylde’s human DNA into Piotr and extracting wolf DNA from him to put into Wylde. The two, sharing their pain together, had become close as brothers during that time.

  Piotr nodded. “I figured it out about two years ago. It’s not hard. I mean, you can do it.”

  Yeah, Piotr had spent way too much time with his father.

  Wylde pulled himself to his feet. He had to slouch. As a child, he could barely stand up straight in here. Now, no way. But that was what the bastard wanted. Standing was for people, and Wylde wasn’t people, according to his father.

  He’d come to believe it back then. Now he knew better. He was as much a person as he was a wolf.

  “You never met me at the rendezvous point by the tree. What happened?” They’d both had a part to play in Wylde’s escape ten years ago. Did Piotr even remember?

  “I screwed up. Got caught. But you got out. That made me happy and your dad very angry. Which made me even happier.” The wolf then cocked his head. “Why did you come back? He will hurt you again.”

  Well that hadn’t changed. Piotr was still more concerned with Wylde’s welfare than his own. More than likely, ten years ago, he’d gotten caught because he was making sure Wylde escaped. Between him and Charles, it was obvious Wylde’s father had been working on developing empathy in wolves. Rather surprising considering the man had no empathy himself.

  “I will escape again, and this time you’re coming with me.” He should have come back years ago to try and rescue Piotr. Not that he’d had any means to do so while running with his pack.

  His life was just too screwed up.

  “It’s not so bad here. Your dad doesn’t hurt me so much anymore. I just chill and watch TV most of the time.”

  A small, flat panel display hung on the back wall of Piotr’s cage. “You have a television?”

  “Yeah, your dad gave it to me when I started spouting words. He wanted me to speak English. Lots of Russian speakers here. Not a lot of shows in English available, so he got me some movies on DVD. Have you ever seen Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. Dude, that’s a classic.”

 
And that probably explained Piotr’s speech patterns.

  Wylde was never allowed to watch television after they arrived here. His new cabin at the Xi Force base didn’t even have one. Was he missing something?

  He shook his head. “No, I’ve never seen that movie. How do you turn your TV on?”

  Piotr couldn’t manipulate small buttons, could he? How human had his father been able to make him?

  The wolf scampered to the back of his cell and returned with a black, boxy contraption about a foot square and an inch or two high held in his teeth. He dropped it to the floor. “They made me a special remote.”

  Five buttons, big enough for Piotr to press with his paws.

  “Amazing.”

  Tail wagging, Piotr panted. “Want to watch some Animal Planet. Sometimes they have some really nice bitches on there.”

  Wylde couldn’t help but smile at his old friend’s enthusiasm. “Not right now, buddy.”

  He had to concentrate on getting out.

  Across the lab, on a table, he spotted his costume. They would no doubt be taking it apart and studying it.

  Sure, just when he was getting used to it, actually liked it, they’d taken his costume away.

  He had no doubt Kayla and Heather would make him another, once he got back to Xi Force headquarters. First, he had to find a way out of this cage.

  Yeah, super strength would have been convenient. Some superhero he’d turned out to be.

  I act like a wolf and can’t be killed. The damn author might just as well have thrown in water-breathing and a bow and arrow. He’d still be worthless.

  ~ ~ ~

  Keys jingled out of sight down the hallway. Footsteps approached.

  Dove’s heart leapt. “John?”

  He’d been gone too long, and worry had wormed its way into her stomach to replace the warm confidence she’d felt when in his presence.

  But the tread in the hallway was heavy, nothing like John’s usual stealthy lope.

  “Your boyfriend’s a pushover.” Leonov strode into view.

  Her stomach tightened. “What have you done to him?”

  He opened the cell door, stepped in, then pulled the door shut behind him. “I’d be more concerned with myself right now, if I were you.”

  Dove took a step back as he advanced on her. “Leave me alone.”

  “Ha. I had to before. Dr. Wylde made me. He ordered me to leave you untouched because he thought he could convince you to join us.” His eyes narrowed as he looked her up and down. “So sexy. You don’t know how hard it was to leave you alone those nights I had you at my mercy.”

  He continued to stalk her until her back was pinned against the back wall of the cell, with no place to run. “But now you’re nothing. Just another lab rat for our experiments. They just need you breathing. I can do whatever I want to you.”

  He grabbed her breast, squeezing hard.

  She put her hands on his chest and pushed. “Get away.”

  He didn’t move. “You know, if you’re nice to me, I can make things better for you down here. Good food. Clean sheets.”

  Her skin crawled. “You’re a bastard.”

  He brought his face close to hers. His fetid breath rippled across the sweat on her neck. “Get used to it.”

  “Lennie. I need you both in my lab right now. It’s time.” Dr. Wylde stood at the barred doorway. “Og accepted our sacrifice much faster than I would have believed.”

  “Poor little Dove. Now you’ll never know the bliss we could have experienced together.” Leonov grabbed her wrist and tugged her toward the door. He shot a glance back at her, a sneer spreading across his face. “You’re not going to like this. You should have agreed to work with us.”

  ~ ~ ~

  A stooped, white-haired man in a lab coat squinted at Wylde through the bars of his cage. “So, you’re Bill’s kid, eh. Don’t look so wolfie to me. Your old man’s a wacko, you know that, right?”

  Duh. Who was this guy?

  Wylde decided the best course would be to keep his ears open and his mouth shut.

  Okay, one little growl. “Grrr.”

  The man shrugged and pulled back, then began putzing with a bank of equipment in the center of the lab floor. “But that spider thing, heh, heh, that was amazing. Bet he surprised the hell out of you. He sure did us, when it happened.”

  Wylde was starting to sense that his father wasn’t the only wacko working for Red Guard.

  A laptop computer on a desk across the room beeped. A woman’s face came on the screen. Or at least, Wylde thought it was a woman. Long blue hair framed a face that was a patchwork of colors. Tattoos covered her entire visage in every hue possible.

  “Camille.” Lance shuffled over to the workstation.

  “Is William there? Are you guys coming or what? I’m sick of playing this part. It’s been years. We’re ready. Let’s get this over with.” The woman did not sound pleased.

  “Dr. Wylde is not here right now, but I’ll pass along your message.” Lance’s calm tone stood at odds with the woman’s agitation.

  “What are you waiting for? Everything is ready. All our people are in place.”

  So another city, another population about to be taken by Red Guard. No wonder the parking lot outside was so empty. Couldn’t the Russians protect their own people? Probably some small, remote village nobody cared about was about to be overrun with Red Guard forces. Its population herded into the holding cells downstairs for use in experiments. Poor souls.

  Could he find out where this woman was calling from? Could he stop this?

  Hell, he couldn’t even get out of his cage. Some hero he was.

  Lance had his hand up, palm out toward the computer. “Just this one last thing, I assure you, then we’ll be joining you. A few more days and you can all come home at last.”

  He hit a key on the keyboard before the woman could respond, then puttered back toward the strange contraption in the center of the lab. “Bitch.”

  A sharp electrical click reverberated through the chamber, and the machinery hummed to life. Lights flashed, and the indicators on two large, round meters rose and bobbed to the center-point of whatever scale they measured. The man turned a knob and the hum became a whine. “Yes, that’s more the thing. No reason not to use full power this time.”

  Beside the machine, two matching chairs sported restraining straps. Yup, it was Dr. Frankenstein’s lab all over again. Not surprising, when it came to his father. Time to break the ice with Dr. Crazy. He decided to put a growl in his tone. Do the Batman voice. “What does that thing do?”

  The man jumped, then turned toward Wylde, eyes wide. A huge grin broke across his face, exposing gaps in his teeth. Didn’t speak much of Red Guard’s dental plan.

  “This is the culmination of thirty years of scientific research. Genetics, radiation, chemistry, physics, mysticism, and a healthy dose of chaos theory, all of it poured into a single process. With this, we can touch other realms of existence.”

  That sounded way too ominous.

  “Have you used it before?” Was this what had created Port? His father’s spider abilities?

  The man plopped down into one of the chairs. “This is the lucky chair. This is the chair that grants powers from beyond.”

  His gaze traveled to the other. “That is the death chair. Three times we’ve tried. Three times they died. Today should be my turn for the good chair.”

  The laboratory door opened, and his father stood in the doorway, arms akimbo. “No Lance, today is not your day. You’re too old. Today we use Lennie. Did you prepare everything?”

  The old man frowned, and stood up from the good chair, then began ticking things off on his fingers. “I checked that the stars are in proper alignment, they are. The reactor is
primed, and your DNA samples are right there on the workbench. I just need to light the candles.”

  He scampered over to an altar-like, ornate table against the wall that contained a book stand and two large, red candles. “I want it to be my turn this time. You promised I’d get my turn.”

  His father rolled his eyes. “You are certainly welcome to sit in the other chair if you wish.” Then the bastard’s gaze shifted to Wylde. “I’m sure our selected subject won’t mind skipping out on that.”

  Ah, that made sense. The death chair. They planned on using Wylde there because he couldn’t die.

  Or could he?

  No, of course not. His story probably wasn’t even half told yet. Too much up in the air for an ending yet. So maybe crazy man Lance was going to sit in the death chair. “Don’t do it, Lance.”

  It wasn’t that he cared, but the little old guy was starting to grow on him.

  Brushing Lance aside, his father strode to the machinery and pointed to the chair of doom. “Well?”

  Lance cringed. “Of course not. No. I will wait until next time.”

  Wylde’s father chuckled. “Good man. Wait your turn.” Then he turned toward the doorway. “Lennie, get in here.”

  A commotion came from outside.

  “Bastard.”

  Dove.

  “Ouch. Stop that.” Leonov wrestled Dove through the doorway, dragging her by her wrist. She continued to swat at him with her other hand.

  Someone was being difficult. Good girl. But he wasn’t surprised. Dove was a fighter, especially against anything she felt was unjust. She always had been.

  “Oh for crying out loud.” Wylde’s father morphed. His body bloated and sprouted thick brown hairs, His limbs elongated, adding joints as they grew, with four additional limbs sprouting from his sides. Only his head remained any semblance of human. It happened amazingly fast. His clothing just kind of got sucked into the giant spider’s body.