The Wereling 3: Resurrection

by Stephen Cole

  Ahead of him was a door that needed a security code – the entrance to United Laboratories, Tom guessed. To the side was a stairwell stretching up darkly to the next floor.

  Tom made his way up the stairs to a long shabby corridor – and another door that needed a security code. He swore in frustration. He was about to make his way up the next flight of stairs when he heard footsteps approaching. There was a closet adjacent to the door. Tom stuffed himself in there, leaving the door open just a crack in the hope of catching the security code. The closet was airless and stank of bleach; it made him want to gag.

  A man in a shabby white coat brushed past. Tom watched his fingers key in the code then push the door open and walk through. The door closed behind him with a muffled slam.

  Tom waited a minute, then keyed in the same code. The door opened on to a stretch of corridor that ended in a further security door. He could hear a low moaning noise from somewhere up ahead, and sinister shuffling sounds. Holding his breath, he moved forwards.

  The moaning was coming from behind a metal door halfway down. Tom gingerly tried the handle. The door was locked. But there was some sort of shutter at head height; an inspection hatch perhaps …

  Tom slid the shutter across – and leaped back with a cry of shock.

  A man’s deathly-white face was pressed up against the hatch. His eyes were wild and staring, his hair greasy and lank. ‘Someone’s here!’ he shouted. He turned away to address another man Tom could now see slumped in a corner of the room. ‘New guy.’

  Tom saw both men were wearing grimy white coats and were similarly dishevelled.

  The other man, wearing cracked glasses, rose from the filthy floor and elbowed aside the first. ‘Have you brought us stuff?’ Sores around his mouth cracked and bled as he spoke. ‘Give it to us! You promised, you promised!’ His voice was racked with desperation and despair. Both men began to beat on the door with raw knuckles.

  Tom backed away, unnerved, unsure what to do. ‘Who are you?’ he asked hoarsely.

  The man with glasses gave a sick grin. ‘Don’t you know? We’re nobody now. Clever once. Scientists. Now we’re nothing.’

  Tom swallowed. ‘Is … is one of you called Dr John Walker?’

  The first man reappeared, his face twisted in hatred. ‘Dr Walker has yet to join us … he’s still Takapa’s new favourite,’ he sneered.

  ‘But he’ll wind up here one day. Just like the rest of us,’ the other man added.

  ‘I … I can’t stay,’ Tom said, glancing around nervously. ‘I might get caught.’

  ‘Don’t leave us!’ the first man shouted pitifully. ‘Give us what we need! You have to, you must!’

  With a shudder Tom turned to head for the door leading back to the staircase. But just then, the door opened and a stooped old man in a dark suit and fedora hat entered.

  Tom jumped back, bunching his fists as he realised it was the same man he’d seen holding the knife over Sunday. ‘What is this?’ he demanded. ‘What the hell are you doing to these people?’

  Unfazed, the man looked towards Tom, his bulbous nose twitching as he sniffed the air. He shuffled forward, yellowed teeth bared in a grotesque smile that never reached his clouded, ruined eyes. And then he began to speak – strange, guttural sounds that seemed scraped from the back of his throat.

  Tom listened, strangely fascinated, as the screaming men began to quieten, their pleading giving way to sobs. Suddenly, he felt tired. So tired he could barely hold his eyes open. He became vaguely aware that the pitch of the old man’s voice had changed, that his words had become longer, the sounds more complex.

  Why am I even listening? A sharp dart of alarm tore through the fog in his mind but by then it was too late. He couldn’t move. His legs wouldn’t budge an inch.

  g

  g

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘What have you done to me?’ Tom asked, his words slurring. Had he been drugged, or hypnotised somehow?

  ‘I have frozen the nerves to the muscles in your legs, arms and neck, inducing a temporary paralysis,’ said the old man in a reedy, Germanic accent. ‘You will not escape here again.’

  Tom struggled and strained but he was helpless, completely unable to move. What the hell was happening to him? Tears of frustration welled up in his eyes.

  The old man shuffled closer, and put his old, parched lips to Tom’s ear. ‘You spoiled a most promising experiment, boy, enabling the Walker girl to escape me. Perhaps I should close your windpipe little by little, suffocate you from the inside. I can do so with just a few words.’ He chuckled. ‘That might be an amusing diversion.’

  In desperation Tom tried to bring on his change, tried to concentrate his anger, break the deadlock with the strength and power of his ’wolf.

  The old man only tutted. ‘Or perhaps I should string out the ecstasies of your lupine metamorphosis … drag out the pain and the pleasure of the change over a few days, or a week – a month, perhaps.’

  Tom felt wizened fingers caress the side of his head.

  ‘How long before your mind snapped, I wonder. How long would it take …’

  ‘Longer than this one has to live, I’m afraid,’ came a cold, familiar voice from the doorway.

  Tom closed his eyes.

  ‘It’s good to see you, Tom,’ said Marcie Folan. ‘Takapa thought you’d have the sense to keep away while we had bigger fish to fry, but I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me. So sweet of you to drop by …’

  He couldn’t even shudder as she approached.

  A prisoner in his own body.

  g

  Kate threw open the door to Blood’s suite at the Drake, and she and Sunday collapsed gratefully inside.

  Blood jumped up from a chair. ‘Trolly! Sunday, are you all right? What did you find?’

  ‘We found that Brook Mansion may be empty, but it has a couple of caretakers,’ Kate told him with a shudder. ‘What about you?’

  ‘I’ve had better nights,’ he sighed.

  ‘Where’s Tom?’ asked Sunday.

  Blood looked away. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘What?’ Kate marched up to him. ‘Is he all right? What happened?’

  ‘This bloody great ’wolf came after us, we got separated and I tried to go after Tom – but by the time I caught up with him, all I saw was a van pulling away and another lupine who’d been left behind. So I bailed.’ Blood sighed. ‘Look, why don’t I make us some of this excellent complimentary fresh roasted coffee and we can spill our collective beans.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Kate said. Sunday put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, and Kate flashed her a cheerless smile.

  They related their stories between bitter, scalding sips, Kate listening to Blood’s patchy account with less and less patience.

  ‘So, what exactly have we got to show for tonight?’ Kate stormed. ‘We were all nearly killed, none of us learned anything of any use and now poor Tom is—’

  There was a sudden knocking at the door. ‘Room service,’ came a man’s voice.

  ‘Wrong room,’ called Blood in his posh accent.

  ‘It’s your room number. I’ll leave it outside,’ the man said.

  Blood swore under his breath and stomped over to see. But as he turned the handle the door flew open and struck him in the face. He staggered back as an Asian guy wearing black leathers and a silver wolf’s head pinned on his chest charged in, flanked by three others wearing the same.

  ‘Kate, Adam,’ said Sunday, gesturing to the intruders, ‘meet the Dark Chapter.’

  ‘My name’s Chung,’ said the Asian guy. ‘Fayn here’s my deputy, my right-hand man.’ He gestured briefly to the two other guys standing behind him. ‘Zac and Mike, my enforcers.’

  ‘Charmed, I’m sure,’ said Blood, dabbing at his lip.

  ‘Chung, huh?’ Kate observed. ‘Good pureblood name.’

  He smiled.

  ‘And I’m a Fayn,’ the squinting guy reminded them, looking pissed off that he’d had to point out his pedi
gree.

  ‘So what? I’m a Folan,’ Kate said.

  ‘Pureblood too, we know,’ said Zac. Black and well-groomed, he was looking at Kate appreciatively. ‘You’re on the run with the wereling.’

  ‘You helped kill your own brother,’ added Chung. ‘By rights, we should hand you over to your family, let justice be done.’

  Sunday narrowed her eyes. ‘Gee, you really are a good little bunch of boy scouts, aren’t you?’

  ‘Well, I think it’s outrageous,’ said Blood angrily, his posh persona lending him added confidence. ‘Barging in like this while we’re in the middle of enjoying a quite excellent cup of coffee. What were the Dark Chapter busy doing tonight? While Lincoln Park Zoo was going to the ’wolves, hmm?’

  ‘That’s why we’re here,’ said Chung. ‘We know the wereling was involved in that crazy stunt down there tonight.’

  ‘He took off with Takapa’s crew,’ added Fayn, ‘together with the stolen white wolves. Why?’

  ‘Because he’s a brave little fool, I’d imagine,’ said Blood hotly. ‘We went there because we heard Takapa was up to something. You lot might not give a damn what he does so long as it doesn’t impinge on your own agenda, but we do.’ He paused. ‘How do you know he went willingly?’

  ‘I know someone who saw it,’ said Fayn cockily. ‘The guy was right there.’

  ‘Interesting. I didn’t think anyone saw that truck depart except me,’ said Blood mildly. ‘Oh, and the ’wolf from Takapa’s crew who was left behind.’

  Fayn frowned. ‘What?’

  ‘Didn’t your contact tell you about that?’ Blood turned to Chung. ‘I got separated from Tom. I went looking for him in the grounds, heard a vehicle pulling away, and went to investigate.’ He glanced over at Fayn. ‘It was night, and I was a long way off, but I most definitely saw a ’wolf run into the road. It chased after the truck but couldn’t catch it – I thought it was Tom at first. Then it slunk off into the bushes.’

  ‘I don’t know anything about another ’wolf.’ Fayn shrugged. ‘Maybe my guy scrammed before he came along.’

  ‘Well,’ said Blood, ‘speaking as one who was there to the end, I think Tom was accepted on board that truck because he bore a resemblance to the ’wolf left behind. In the heat of the moment, they didn’t realise their mistake.’

  ‘Seems we’ve wasted our time coming here,’ said Chung. ‘I thought the wereling could throw some light on the situation. Since he can’t, we’ll just have to pay Takapa a visit.’

  Kate stared at him. ‘And get Tom back? Rescue him?’

  ‘Why should we?’ asked Chung. ‘He knew the score with Takapa.’

  ‘Yeah,’ chimed Zac. ‘I mean, if he’s dumb enough to hand himself over on a plate—’

  ‘Or brave enough,’ Kate broke in.

  ‘In any case,’ said Chung, ‘it’s time Takapa stopped trying to just suck up to my pureblood ass and accounted for himself. That stunt at the zoo, his people knocking out the security guards, leaving one of them for dead …’

  ‘He must be out of his mind,’ agreed Zac. ‘If these guys start telling tales about men turning into ’wolves, and the press get a hold …’

  Blood clicked his tongue with fake sympathy. ‘Could be a trifle inconvenient for the likes of you, couldn’t it?’

  ‘My ancestors spent their whole lives – gave them, sometimes – trying to keep the heat off of our kind,’ said Chung solemnly. ‘In this city, everyone answers to the Dark Chapter, Takapa included. It’s time for a show of force.’

  ‘So what, you storm his headquarters? All four of you?’ Kate asked. ‘Takapa will laugh in your face.’

  ‘This is only the core of the Dark Chapter,’ Chung told her impatiently.

  ‘We’ve got a whole network in place around Chicago, keeping tabs on what’s going on,’ Fayn piped up. ‘They’ve all got day jobs, all got family and loved ones to think about … But when the call goes out, they’ll drop everything – ready for action.’

  ‘The Chapter comes first,’ Chung added, and the others dutifully echoed the words.

  ‘Jeez, you’re like a bunch of little kids playing war, aren’t you?’ said Sunday.

  ‘We do what we have to.’ Chung shrugged. ‘By dawn we’ll have ourselves a small army.’

  ‘I want to come with you,’ Kate said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because Tom might be in trouble. If you’re going to be keeping Takapa’s guards busy, there’s a chance I’ll be able to sneak in and find him.’

  ‘You’re crazy,’ said Chung flatly. ‘But I guess it’s your life.’

  ‘I want to come too,’ said Sunday.

  Mike gave her a patronising smile. ‘We don’t need a packed lunch, thanks.’

  ‘My dad could be in there,’ she insisted. ‘I have to know.’

  Chung stabbed a finger at Kate. ‘She’s a pureblood, she’s got a right to be in on this. But you, girl, you’re nothing but a liability.’

  ‘So let her come,’ suggested Blood, ‘and if she’s caught and killed, she’s one less problem. Right?’

  ‘Nice logic.’ Chung’s almond eyes narrowed to slits. ‘Perhaps you should come too?’

  Blood inclined his head. ‘How could I resist such a charming invitation?’

  ‘We’ll be at the gates to his yard and ready to move at six,’ said Chung. Then he turned and headed for the door, his men trailing after him in silence.

  Once the door had slammed shut behind them, Kate pushed out a long, shaky breath and sat down on the couch. All she could think was, What is happening to Tom right now?

  Sunday sat down beside her, her lower lip quivering, and Kate guessed she was wondering the same thing about her father.

  ‘Was I rude not to offer them a cup of coffee?’ Blood wondered aloud.

  g

  Tom watched cobwebbed ceilings go by high overhead as Marcie wheeled him through the corridors of Takapa’s headquarters on a hospital trolley. The old man kept awkward pace a few metres behind.

  ‘I used to do this a lot in my nursing days,’ Marcie announced. ‘Take my drowsy patients off to the operating room, ready for their surgery.’

  ‘Surgery?’ Tom asked hoarsely. He felt sick with fear. His arms and legs were still locked in place, dead and useless; he’d never felt so helpless. The creepy old man hadn’t taken away his power of speech, but Tom found it hard to get his tongue around the words. ‘So what have you been doing, tucked away here for so long?’ Tom asked Marcie, his voice slurring like he’d just had a bad trip to the dentist. ‘Licking your wounds after Jicaque thrashed you in New York?’

  ‘It was a setback, I’ll admit. But breeding a drug-dependent army was just one element of Takapa’s grand design,’ said Marcie. ‘It’s a flexible program. Its aims and priorities change according to circumstances.’

  ‘Sure they do,’ Tom said. ‘And without your little army of junkie gladiators, hiding out in this lovely part of town has been priority number one.’ He swallowed down thick saliva and glared up at her. ‘So why are you torturing those scientists? Just to pass the time?’

  ‘Torture?’ Marcie shook her head. ‘We give them bliss.’

  ‘Bliss in a needle,’ muttered Tom. ‘I know those symptoms. You’ve got them hooked on that same serum you used in New York. But … I thought Jicaque had spoiled your supply?’

  ‘We had sufficient stock in Chicago for our needs,’ said Marcie. Then she gave a theatrical sigh. ‘Those scientists were so drearily stubborn about not doing what we wanted when they first arrived here. They needed some … persuasion. The drug makes them remarkably compliant.’

  ‘It makes them into blood-crazed wrecks,’ Tom retorted.

  ‘It’s important they stay motivated,’ said Marcie blandly. ‘Deadlines are tight, and we’ve been hot-housing a number of important projects here.’

  ‘Like Project Resurrection?’ he guessed, remembering what Sunday had told him.

  ‘Always so inquisitive.’ Marcie bared her teeth i
n an unpleasant smile. ‘The temporary termination of our plans in New York came at a fortuitous time. We have been able to channel our energies – and those of our workforce – into something that will further our cause to a far greater extent.’

  Tom didn’t like the sound of that.

  Marcie wheeled the trolley through a set of double doors, and into a large, white room completely at odds with the other areas of the dingy warehouse he’d seen. It was somewhere between Frankenstein’s laboratory and an ultramodern operating room. Modern microscopes and slim laptop computers shared workbenches with smoking, bubbling beakers heated by bunsens and clunky equipment that looked old enough to be steam-powered.

  Then, from behind an inelegant bank of baffling equipment, a man emerged.

  ‘Hal Folan,’ Tom croaked, recognising Marcie’s husband – and Kate’s father. ‘Just like old times, isn’t it?’

  Hal glared at him uncomfortably. With a cursory nod to the old man, who was wheezing softly out of Tom’s sight, he asked his wife, ‘Where’s Kate?’

  ‘She’s not with him,’ said Marcie. ‘He got in undetected by duping those imbeciles who stole the white wolves.’

  ‘Resourceful,’ Hal observed with clinical detachment. ‘But then, we’ve always known that.’ He walked in front of Tom’s line of vision to stand before two large observation windows looking into an adjoining room.

  From his position on the trolley, Tom was just about high enough to see through. In there two people, anonymous and sexless in white gowns and headgear, were hunched over a twitching animal, reaching periodically for one of the gleaming surgical instruments in the tray beside them.

  ‘How is Walker doing?’ enquired Marcie.

  ‘He’s prepared the enhanced genetic material from the white wolf,’ said Hal. ‘Just finishing up.’

  ‘Walker?’ Tom breathed. ‘That’s John Walker, Sunday’s father?’

  ‘Our brightest recruit. His studies of stem cells and their healing qualities have proven invaluable to our work here.’

  ‘Really,’ Tom said. His throat felt thick and constricted – he had to really concentrate to push out the words. ‘I’ll bet he’s just thrilled he could help.’