Autumn Rising

by Marissa Farrar

  After what she’d experienced upstairs, she was nervous about this next part of the operation. She was starting to think Vivian had only let her out of her room in order to shock her, to keep her in line. Even more worrying was that this was simply how Vivian acted, and her treatment of people seemed to be no better than her treatment of shifters.

  With Vivian leading the way, she marched down the cinder block corridor, the space lit by harsh fluorescent strip lighting. Several rooms led off the corridor, big, heavy doors blocking the way. They reached the end, and Vivian unlocked the door in what seemed to be the manner throughout the building, with her thumbprint on an electronic pad.

  The door buzzed open and they all walked in.

  Autumn found herself in familiar surroundings. The layout of a laboratory was similar no matter what the lab was being used for, with chemicals, microscopes, computers, people in white coats and protective eyewear. Despite her reasons for being there, Autumn couldn’t help but relax. After growing up feeling like she was never really wanted at her father’s house, staying as an unofficial lodger at Mia’s parents’ house until she started college and was able to move into the dorms, she’d come to view the lab as home. It was the one place where she knew who she was.

  As the scientists already working noticed the new arrivals, they stopped what they were doing. One of them, a middle-aged woman, nudged her colleague and widened her eyes in an expression as if to say ‘it’s her!’

  “Gentlemen, ladies,” Vivian said in a loud voice to get their attention, though as far as Autumn could tell, their attention had already been pretty much claimed. “I’ve brought someone to work with you who might just interest you.” She reached out and caught Autumn by the top of her arm, her long fingers squeezing too hard, her nails digging into Autumn’s flesh. “This is Doctor Autumn Anderson, the woman whose blood you are currently trying to replicate.”

  The scientists all eyed her with mistrust, and the feeling of home she’d experienced only moments before evaporated. But unlike Thorne, they all knew better than to go against Vivian’s authority.

  Vivian gave a bright smile. “I know what you’re all thinking, but Autumn has assured me she is on our side, and she wants to help. Don’t worry, I have taken precautions. I’ll make sure she has two guards watching her the whole time.” She looked toward the guards in question and blinked as if noticing for the first time that Thorne had accompanied them. She frowned. “Though we seem to have picked up an extra.” The woman gave her head a slight shake, and turned back to the scientists. “So anyway, which one of you wants to give us a progress update?”

  A couple of the more senior looking scientists exchanged glances, and eventually an older man, with heavy jowls and glasses stepped forward. He didn’t seem to want to look at Autumn, or Vivian either for that matter, but instead shuffled his feet and stared at the floor as he started to speak.

  “It would seem that Doctor Anderson’s blood samples have shown some ... unusual properties …. Some irregularities. The erythrocytes—the red blood cells—have the ability to change shape and they do so when introduced to a different blood source. The cell shapes are what I would expect to see in someone suffering from sickle cell disease.” For the first time, he risked glancing at Autumn. “Frankly, I’m surprised Doctor Anderson isn’t seriously ill from the irregularities.”

  Autumn shrugged, almost feeling as though she should apologize for something.

  “We’ve also determined that the antigens on the surface of the blood cells are unusual. Antigens are normally used so the body can recognize its own red blood cell type, but Doctor Anderson’s antigens are unusual in that most host bodies would recognize them, so they wouldn’t reject her blood. It’s only a theory at the moment, but we believe this might help the host’s body accept her blood as its own.”

  “And how does this make someone a shifter?”

  The man cleared his throat. “The red blood cells don’t cause the change. It’s the white blood cells that seemed to be important in this part of the process. Red blood cells don’t have any DNA, but white blood cells do. When the host’s body accepts Doctor Anderson’s blood as its own, it also accepts the white blood cells, and these cells affect the DNA of the host cells. The two components work together to cause the shift.”

  “And have you been able to replicate these properties yet?” Vivian asked, her tone impatient.

  He gave a nervous glance to one of his colleagues. “Well ... no... But it’s only been a couple of days. We need more time.”

  “In the meantime, let’s have a look at what happens when her blood is injected. I’m just curious.”

  “What?” The scientist blinked. “How?”

  Autumn’s stomach lurched. She thought ‘who?’ would have been the better question. Her heart began to race in her chest. Surely Vivian wasn’t going to do this? She felt the tension mount in the room. Nervous mutters were passed between the workers.

  Vivian walked to the counter, scanning the test tubes and bottles. She spied a sample and picked up a vial, then took a needle from a box on a shelf above. She pulled the safety cap off the top of the needle, and plunged the point into the vial. Her eyes darted across the inhabitants of the lab, coming to rest on one of the guards. “Private Romero. I think you can be our first live specimen.”

  The young man blanched. “What? You can’t be serious?”

  “I’m always serious, Romero. Now step forward.”

  “Ma’am? I have a kid. I can’t be used as some kind of freak experiment.”

  “Are you directly disobeying an order, Romero?”

  “That can’t be an order. That’s crazy!”

  Her eyes went to Thorne and the guard beside him. “Thorne, Barber, please apprehend Romero and bring him to me.”

  Thorne and Barber glanced at each other. Thorne, the higher ranking officer, was the one to speak. “Ma’am. I’m sorry, but you can’t expect us to do that. You have no idea how Romero is going to react.”

  “I’m well aware of that. I’ve not been out in the field like you have, Thorne. I want to see what happens when Doctor Anderson’s blood is injected, and since Autumn is so keen on helping out, I’m sure she’d like to witness the effect too.”

  The woman was playing her, Autumn realized. She had no intention of letting her work on the project. She just wanted to torment her by showing her the suffering her blood could put people through.

  “Don’t be stupid, Thorne,” Vivian warned him. “We’re doing this for our country. Remember where your priorities lie.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  He turned to Romero, his lips thinned, nostrils flared. “You’ll be all right,” Thorne told his colleague. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  Panic settled onto the young man’s face as he realized this was really going to happen. Thorne took hold of his upper arm, while the other guard, Barber, took the other.

  He began to struggle, the whites of his eyes showing wide, shaking his head. “No, no. Stop! This is barbaric. I don’t give my consent for this to happen!”

  Vivian gave a cold smile. “Since when has that ever stopped us, Romero? You as much as anyone should know that.”

  And she stepped forward, pulled up the man’s shirt sleeve, and plunged her needle into the veins in his wrist.

  For a moment, nothing happened. Autumn could tell people were thinking this had all been a big mistake, that her blood couldn’t do what they’d been told. But then the young man’s body stiffened as though he’d been electrocuted, his fingers spread wide, his face frozen, his body locked.

  Someone, one of the women in the room, gave a scream of fright.

  Vivian only continued to smile. “It’s happening.”

  But Autumn had seen this before. “Not fully, it won’t. My blood might change him, but it won’t be what you want. He won’t be able to control the shift.”

  Romero let out a wail of pain, the rigor mortis his body seemed to have been in a few moments earlier releas
ing his muscles. He fell to his knees, and lifted his hands to his head and began to batter on his skull. “I can hear them!” he shrieked. “I can hear all of them!”

  “What’s he talking about?” Thorne directed the question to Autumn.

  “When the spirit connects, he gets the gift of greater senses. I guess he can hear the others in the building. Maybe the ones you are also keeping captive. The ones who are also in pain.”

  His back arched downward, so the back of his head leaned back toward his bottom, and Autumn was sure his spine was going to crack. And then it did, the bone snapping, together with his arm, making him crumple to the floor. But quickly the bones re-knitted, only this time in different shapes and lengths. His face began to change. His mouth protruded outward, even as he screamed through it. His hair began to shed, revealing grey fur beneath, and his ears melded to the side of his head like melting wax.

  Someone in the room said, “Oh God,” and she was aware of someone else turning their back on the sight and retching into the corner of the room, the stench of vomit filling the lab.

  His face became animal-like, a wolf’s head on a still recognizably, if somewhat deformed, human body. Romero turned, snarling and snapping at those close by. Some others screamed, several of the scientists running to the door, hurrying to get out. Others, in morbid fascination—or perhaps some were watching due to a professional interest, Autumn couldn’t be sure—stayed in the room, but made sure they kept back.

  “That’s enough now,” Thorne said to Vivian. “You’ve seen enough. Change him back.”

  “I don’t think we can,” she said, and Autumn detected a note of glee in her voice. She was enjoying this.

  “It won’t stop,” said Autumn. “He’ll keep changing. Something else is needed to make the shift complete, and I don’t know what it is.” She could hear the desperation in her own voice. Vivian had achieved exactly what she wanted. She’d made Autumn feel wretched about who and what she was. With Tala’s transformation, she’d at least had some kind of cruel satisfaction at the pain and fear Tala had gone through. After all, Tala had done it to herself. But this had been an innocent man, a soldier with a child, and now he was barely even human.

  She needed to get out of here, and she needed to do it soon. She was nothing more than a pawn in the sick game Vivian Winter’s was playing.

  Autumn remembered seeing Calvin Thorne ending a call on his cell as he strode up to them on the upper level, how he’d slipped the slim phone into the back pocket of his pants. Had he used the phone since then? Or was it still in his pocket?

  Edging backward, she stood just behind Thorne. Her eyes flicked down. A small rectangular bulge was present in the pocket of his pants.

  Using the distraction of Romero’s shift, she darted forward, slipping her hand inside Thorne’s back pocket, her fingers securing around the smooth plastic of the phone. Thorne barely noticed, too caught up in what was happening with his friend and colleague. But Vivian had noticed her movement, though perhaps hadn’t understood the reason for it.

  “Bathroom!” Autumn yelled, placing her hand over her mouth as though the sight of the man mid-shift had also made her sick. She ran for the door, throwing herself through it.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Vivian’s shriek chased after her. As the door slammed shut behind her, she heard the words, “Thorne, get her!”

  Autumn ran down the corridor as fast as she could manage. Her hands slapped on the exposed brick, trying to propel herself along. Frantic, her head twisted from side to side, trying to figure out which door to take, but all of them had the same keypad and fingerprint entry systems Vivian had used through the whole tour.

  She took a right, heading down a new corridor. Her feet slapped against the floor, too loud, and her breath quickly became harsh from the exertion. She clutched the phone hard, pushing a button to bring the screen to life, but no bars showed. It was out of range. She spied another door at the end of the corridor, and this time the door was propped open by a bucket, a careless cleaner must have thought they would be fine to leave it like that for a moment.

  She’d gotten lucky. Running through the door, she kicked the bucket over with a clang, so letting the door shut behind her in order to buy her a few seconds.

  Autumn found herself in a stairwell, a set of concrete stairs leading up. She ran, taking them two at a time. The whole time she checked the phone, hoping for even a single bar.

  Below her, the door slammed open, followed by the sound of feet hitting concrete and a yell that she thought came from Thorne. “Autumn! Stop!”

  She had no intention of stopping.

  Instead, she pumped her arms and legs, forcing herself to move faster. She was thankful for her habit of running, her fitness allowing her to cover one flight and start on the second without needing to slow. She checked the phone once more and saw she had a single bar of reception. She had to slow in order to plug her father’s number in, and hit the dial button. The phone just beeped as she lost reception once again.

  “Shit, shit, shit.”

  Thorne, and, from the number of footsteps, another person as well, was starting to gain on her. Only adrenaline pushed her on. She tried the number again, and this time it rang. “Come on, Dad. Please answer.”

  Another door led off the stairwell, and without thinking about where she was going, she pushed through it. She would never be able to keep up her pace on the stairs. She looked left and then right, trying to decide which way to go. Ahead, she saw the sign for the ladies room. That would have to do. She wasn’t going to get out of here today, she knew that much. She’d have to take comfort in hoping she could speak to her father and let him know she was still alive.

  She ran into the bathroom, and locked herself in a stall.

  A male voice came down the phone. “Hello?”

  At the sound of her father’s voice, she had to stop herself from bursting into tears.

  “Hello?” his voice said again. “Autumn, is that you?”

  “Yes, yes, it’s me, Dad.” Her voice came out strangled.

  “Autumn, where are you? Are you hurt?”

  “I’m okay, but I don’t know where I am. Some kind of government facility. I don’t have long. They’re coming after me.”

  “Who are? You need to give me more than that so I can find you!”

  “I don’t think you’re going to find me, Dad. I’m sorry. Calvin Thorne is here, and a woman called Vivian Winters seems to be leading the whole thing. I think she’s crazy, Dad. She’s ordering innocent people to be killed.”

  “Things are crazy in the city too. The whole place is going nuts.”

  “Just stay inside until this is over. Stay in your basement, and lock your doors. If I ever get out, I’ll come find you.”

  “You can’t expect me not to look for you, Autumn. You’re my little girl.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad. I’m sorry for this whole mess.”

  “It’s not your fault, sweetheart. You can’t help what you are.”

  Doors banged, feet slapping against the floor. Men’s voices calling her name. They were almost here.

  She reduced her voice to a whisper. “I don’t have long, Dad, They’re coming to get me.”

  “I’ll find you, Autumn.”

  “No! Don’t! Please, just stay in the house. Stay safe, for me. I don’t know what Blake or Chogan are doing, if they’re even still alive. I don’t know about Mia either. I’ll need someone I love if I ever get out of here. I’ll need someone I can go to.”

  She suddenly felt so utterly alone.

  Fists crashed against the other side of the bathroom door, making the door strain on the flimsy lock. Autumn jumped.

  Thorne shouted, “Come out of there, Autumn. Don’t make me break down the door.”

  “Break it down!” she yelled. “Isn’t that what you get paid for?”

  She placed her ear against the phone again.

  “Don’t wind them up, Autumn,” said her fathe
r. “I don’t want you to give them an excuse to hurt you.”

  They don’t need an excuse, she thought, but didn’t say out loud. “Dad, get in touch with Lakota Wolfcollar on the Big Lake Reservation. Tell him that his family is at a cabin about one hundred miles north west of Chicago. It’s been deserted for years, but the army is using it as a compound to keep shifters.”

  The crash came against the other side of the door again, the flimsy lock bending on its hinges.

  “They’re nearly in. I have to go.”

  “Autumn, wait!”

  The crash came again as Thorne smashed his whole body weight against the door. One of the screws of the lock pinged out and rolled to the floor. The lock hung half-on, half off, barely keeping the door closed.

  “I’m sorry. I love you.”

  Autumn hung up and climbed to the back of the toilet, knowing the next hit would send the door flying open. She didn’t want to be caught directly behind it.

  The door smashed open, hitting the dividing wall. Thorne flew in with it, carried by his momentum. He reached out, his hands closing around her forearm, and pulled back, dragging her out of the toilet like a spoiled child who’d been having a tantrum.

  “Who were you calling?” he demanded.

  Realizing he’d be able to get her father’s number from the call log, she swung the arm still holding his cell, and threw it as hard as she could. The phone hit the tiled wall and shattered, broken pieces of plastic and metal falling to the floor.

  “You stupid bitch!” he growled, grabbing her by both shoulders and giving her a shake. “I needed that!”

  Her head snapped back and forth. “Get off me!”

  He stopped shaking her, but he kept hold of her shoulders. “I can’t. Vivian is after you now. You didn’t want to piss that woman off, Autumn. She has no morals.”

  “You and her should get on like a house on fire,” she said, still struggling against him. The other guard stood in the doorway. There was no other way out of the small space, and she was never going to get past two big men. Even so, she didn’t intend on letting them take her quietly.