Chasing Her Tail (25 page)

Micah and Hammer were already hurrying down the street and she ran after them.

The building holding the GPS tracker—hopefully still on Carlson’s car—loomed in front of them. Although the warehouse had the initial appearance of being on its last two-by-fours, Bridget began to notice small details as they drew closer, details that belied the dilapidated first impression. None of the windows were broken or even cracked.

Beneath the layers of graffiti, the walls were sturdy and solid, missing the cracks and holes that pocked the surfaces of the other buildings.

Hammer nudged Micah and Bridget before pointing toward a deep-set door in the sidewall. Looking closely, Bridget could barely see the closed-circuit camera, only catching a glimpse because it was moving, turning from side to side to sweep the area for intruders.

“Back to the car,” Hammer whispered.

Turning toward him, disbelief covering his face, Micah protested, “We just got here.

We’ve got to get in there and get Sam!”

“Think they’ll just let us walk in the front door?” Hammer hissed. “I have an idea.

Now get your ass back to the fucking car!”

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Katie Allen

As the two men glared at each other, Bridget slipped away. She had an idea too and it was going to get her in immediately. She was the one who’d caused this by going to the emergency room. She was the one who was going to get Sam out.

She trotted along the outside wall, keeping her nose open for smells that could tell her something. People had been here, more recently and in greater numbers than would make sense for an abandoned warehouse. She could pick out the scents of at least five distinct people as well as the metallic tang of guns. The hair went up on the back of her neck as she got a strong whiff of a familiar scent—it was one of the men who’d broken into her house!

Her heart hammering in her chest, she walked forward on shaking legs and sat down in front of the door—in direct view of the security cameras.

Micah was the first to break eye contact. “It better be a fucking brilliant idea,” he spat, turning back toward the car.

“I don’t have any other kind,” Hammer said from behind him, his voice calm and a touch amused. Micah couldn’t decide whether Hammer’s excessive amount of reason and logic were reassuring or annoying as hell.

Micah blew out a hard breath. If he’d been on his own when he’d found out that Sam had been grabbed, he knew that he’d have gone nuts. With Hammer there, Micah had chafed at the delays, at stopping to think or plan, but when he’d settled down, he’d realized that it had been the smart thing to do.

He knew he tended to act first and think later. So, it seemed, did Bridget. Hammer, though…Hammer calmed him down. Micah gave an amused grunt. Except when it came to sex. Hammer definitely didn’t calm him down then. At the thought of sex, he glanced over his shoulder at the other two—and came to a sudden halt.

“What?” Hammer asked, looking behind him and stiffening with shock. “Bridget!”

Micah broke into a run, back toward the warehouse door where they could see Bridget sitting, right in line with the cameras. Hammer grabbed him, yanked him to a stop and slammed him against a recessed wall. Fighting the other man’s grip, Micah opened his mouth but Hammer slapped his hand over it.

“Quiet,” Hammer hissed into his ear.

Micah froze, his chest heaving, trying to listen over his thundering heartbeat. Voices were coming from the doorway in front of where Bridget sat. There was the spitting sound of an air gun and then a yelp from Bridget. Micah jerked and then turned his face into Hammer’s chest, not trusting himself to not make a sound. Hammer gripped the back of his head with a hand that shook, pulling Micah more tightly against him.

The door slammed shut and the voices were cut off, leaving Hammer and Micah caught in silence. They didn’t talk as they made their way back to where they’d parked.

“Why the
fuck
did she do that?” Micah finally shouted when they were in the car, heading toward the main road.

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“She thinks she can help Sam better from inside, I guess.” Hammer rubbed his head and sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Shit.” Micah stared sightlessly through the windshield. “It was bad enough worrying about Sam and now Carlson has Bridget too… What are we going to do?” He looked at Hammer and saw the other man’s face harden.

“Get them out,” Hammer stated.

Bridget came back through the tranquilizer fog, fighting for consciousness. Her eyes refused to open, her body trying to drag her back down into sleep, but a sound was tugging at her brain, refusing to allow that fall into oblivion. With an annoyed grunt, she struggled to throw off the drug’s effect.

“Ms. Grace!”

There it was again. It was a squeaky whisper, so familiar, and it confused her, making her think she was in her classroom at school. Why was she sleeping at her desk?

The kids must be running wild around the room while she dozed.

“Ms. Grace, please! Please don’t be dead.”

Dead?
Her eyes popped open and brightness hit painfully. She winced, blinking against the white glare until her pupils adjusted to the light. There, through two layers of Plexiglas, was Sam. He looked tiny in his pajamas with cartoon space aliens printed on them. His hands and nose were pressed against the clear wall closest to Bridget.

Sam?
she tried to say but only a whine emerged. Standing up on shaky legs, she realized she was still in dog form. Bridget shook herself, trying to clear the last of the fuzziness from her brain.

She was in a tiny room with Plexiglas walls, holes stippling the plastic at regular intervals. After having seen the exterior of the warehouse, she could hardly believe she was in the same building. Although it had a warehouse’s high ceilings, everything else appeared to be a state-of-the-art laboratory.

White surrounded her. The walls and ceiling were stark white, as were the complicated-looking pieces of equipment that lined the wall across the room from her.

The Plexiglas boxes were in a row, with Sam’s next to hers. Each had a narrow cot and a toilet, giving them the appearance of plastic jail cells. The other seven stand-alone rooms looked to be empty, except for a large black dog curled into a miserable ball in the cell three down from Bridget’s.

“He doesn’t say too much,” Sam told her, drawing her attention back to the little boy. “His name is Night.”

Bridget looked at the black dog again, wondering if he was really a human.

“You
are
Ms. Grace, right?” Sam asked in a loud whisper. “Her hair is the same color—brown, like your fur.”

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Katie Allen

I wish I could talk to you
, she thought, but she’d already seen the cameras fixed in the top corner of her cage. Carlson couldn’t know for sure that she was human and she wasn’t about to give him the proof.

“If you are Ms. Grace,” Sam said, “I wanted to tell you something.”

Bridget cocked her head, watching him.

“I’m really, really sorry.” His voice dropped to a faint whisper. “I hope you’re not mad.”

Of course not, sweet boy.
She lifted a paw and rested it against the wall.

“Good,” he sighed, sliding down to sit on the floor with his knees tucked into his chest. “I’m glad you’re here,” he told her, resting his cheek against the wall and closing his eyes.

I’m not
, she thought sourly, eyeing the clear walls of her prison,
but hopefully it won’t
be for too long.

“Hello.”

Carlson’s smell touched her nose after he spoke. Bridget jumped, her head twisting to see him walking from the far side of the lab.

“It took you a while to wake up,” he told her as he approached her cage. “After the incident in the woods behind the hospital, we increased the dosage in our darts. I was beginning to think we’d gone a touch too high.”

She stared at him, amazed that this sweet-looking lab geek was her captor. He was slight, with a white beard and only a short fringe of hair rimming his considerable bald spot. His eyes were blue and mild, and he had a quick smile. He looked like someone’s genial uncle. Where were the crazy eyes and evil laugh? This guy seemed so…rational.

“It was good of you to visit us here,” he continued. “I was racking my brain, trying to come up with the best plan to find you, and you appear outside the door. It was like my birthday and Christmas, all rolled into one.” Carlson beamed.

Bridget knew that her impromptu plan to let herself get captured probably wasn’t the brightest but she’d figured she could help more from the inside than out. Besides, looking at the outer walls of the warehouse, she’d had no idea that the interior would be so high-tech. She’d figured it would’ve been more of a shackled-to-the-wall type situation, although, now that she thought about it, she couldn’t have escaped from that very well either. Bridget made a mental note to ask Hammer for lock-picking lessons once she got out.
If
she got out…

She shut down that thought immediately and refocused on Carlson, who was watching her with his head cocked, looking like a small, white-bearded bird.

“I’ve been looking for people like you for so long,” he said. “I can’t believe I’ve managed to obtain two within twenty-four hours.”

Glancing over at Sam, Bridget saw that he hadn’t moved, although his stiff posture proved he wasn’t sleeping. A rush of anger flooded her that he had to go through this and her lip slid up, exposing her canines.

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Patting the air soothingly, Carlson crooned, “Hush, puppy. Just relax and settle in, and you’ll soon find it’s a nice place around here. We’re pursuing knowledge and you will help us so much. We know nothing about what happens in your brain and in your physical structure when you change from dog to human and human to dog. Each detail that we discover will be a breakthrough.”

Bridget didn’t know what was more insulting—the condescending singsong tone he used or his easy justification for keeping innocent people prisoners. Sick of hearing him talk, she turned her back to him and lay down.

Carlson clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Never mind. Get some sleep tonight and we’ll talk again tomorrow. Oh and Bridget?”

She turned her head and looked at him before she could catch herself.

“Feel free to switch back and forth between dog and human. I haven’t been able to observe that yet and would find it quite fascinating.” His eyes glittered as he spoke.

Okay, there’s the crazy.
Bridget didn’t know whether insanity based in the pursuit of scientific knowledge was better or worse than being just plain nuts. She turned away again, focusing on Sam, who was listening quietly, still huddled against the wall. If Carlson hadn’t seen a human-to-dog transformation, that meant Sam hadn’t changed.

That was good. Maybe there was a chance of convincing Carlson that they were normal, just a dog and a boy, with no special scientific value.

“If you’re reluctant, I’m sure there are ways to persuade you.”

And he’s still talking. God, what a self-important ass.

“After all, there are so many tests that need to be done on the boy here. See if he’s worth what I paid that so-called bodyguard for him.”

Her head whipped around. The glow in Carlson’s eyes was back.

He gave a tiny, smug smile. She could tell he thought he had her. “Slightly painful tests, of course, but that’s the price of science.”

Her eyes narrowed and all the hair along her spine lifted as rumbling sounds made her entire body vibrate. It took her a few seconds for Bridget to realize she was growling. Only the Plexiglas wall prevented her from leaping at the man and ripping his throat out.

“Think about it, my dear Bridget. We’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.” With a final cold smile, he turned and walked away.

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Katie Allen

She turned back toward Sam, listening to Carlson’s retreating footsteps and hoping that the little boy hadn’t understood any of Carlson’s threats. The man’s scent lingered in Bridget’s nose and she huffed out a breath, trying to get rid of the smell. The lights dimmed, all of the fluorescent panels going dark except for the emergency lights above their Plexiglas cells.

The lab was silent for several minutes before Sam spoke.

“I don’t like him.”

You and me both, kiddo.

“I wish I was in there with you.” Sam rubbed at the glass as if he could feel her fur.

Poor baby.
Despite not having accomplished much yet with her half-assed plan of letting them capture her, Bridget was glad the boy wasn’t alone. Settling her nose on her paws, she watched him until he fell asleep, curled like a puppy on the floor.

Bridget had no idea what time it was. She was surprised by how bothered she was by that. Although the warehouse had windows showing on the exterior, the lab room must have been in the center of the building, since there were no visible windows in the entire huge space.

Rubber-soled shoes squeaked on the floor. The sound brought Bridget up and around, her eyes and nose searching the area. A skinny man was walking into the lab, his hand resting on the gun holstered at his hip. She caught a whiff of a scent she recognized—this was one of the guys who’d broken into her house, the more nasally sounding one.

He paused just inside the door, staring at her. Bridget looked back, not sure what to do. The man looked very young, with a receding chin and acne dotting his cheeks and forehead. His dark hair looked dirty and disheveled and he appeared to be trying to grow some kind of facial hair, with mediocre results.

Breaking eye contact, the man took a quick glance around the lab and hurried backward to the door, feeling for it blindly behind his back as if not wanting to turn his back on Bridget.

She lay down, facing the door this time, and waited. The silence pressed down on her, unnerving. All she could hear was Sam’s snuffly breathing and the occasional hum of a ventilation fan, far away in some mechanical room.

It seemed like hours before the squeaky shoes approached again. He was still hesitant, his steps slow. Bridget sat up, watching as he entered the lab again. The man seemed to be on night-watchman duty. She wondered how long it’d been since he’d 136