Hard To Bear (17 page)

“What?” Coral whirled on Frederick, furious. “No fucking way! I do not trust that crazy bitch as far as I can throw her.”

Melinda strode out from behind a clump of trees, dressed in camouflage gear, holding a rifle.  The smile contorting her features was ugly.

“
Your instincts are dead on,” she said, and the rifle came up and Coral felt a sharp sting in her thigh, and then the world turned into a blurry watercolor.  She fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

Coral heard a yelp, and then another thud as Frederick fell to the ground.

“You stupid motherfucker,” she heard Melinda snarling.  Struggling, she managed to turn her head, with enormous effort, and she saw Melinda kicking Frederick in the ribs as he lay helpless in the grass.

A dozen armed humans in camouflage gear and camouflage paint swarmed out of the woods.  They all must have been doused in
Scentsbane, which disguised their scent so that shifters couldn’t detect them.

             
Melinda kicked Frederick again, hard.  “That’s for thinking that a puke-faced piece of shit like you would ever have a chance with me,” she snarled.  Frederick whimpered, a pathetic mewling sound wrenched from his throat.

             
Panic choked Coral.   When she and Frederick didn’t come back, Blanche and Maybelle would go into town and get help eventually – but would help come in time? And what if Blanche and Maybelle decided to launch a rescue effort themselves, which was highly likely? Two crazy old ladies against a gang of human mercenaries with rifles, which were undoubtedly equipped with illegal silver coated bullets.

             
Melinda knelt over her, holding up a serrated knife.  She slashed at Coral’s leg, and Coral jerked in pain, making a strangled noise.  A hot line of fire burned down Coral’s outer thigh where the knife had cut her, and she felt blood dripping onto the ground, but her limbs were so heavy she couldn’t move them an inch. She felt fabric ripping away from her pant leg, as Melinda ripped a bloody patch of cloth away from her pants.

             
Then Melinda moved up, crouching over Coral and pressing the blade against Coral’s cheek. “That’s for fucking my boyfriend, you whore,” she hissed.  A mad light danced in her brown eyes. “He loves me, you understand? He’s going to marry me.  He’ll forget you ever existed.”  She raised her knife high.  “Before I cut your throat, I’m going to make you so fucking ugly-”

             
Suddenly, she went flying, as one of the camouflaged soldiers kicked at her, knocking her away from Coral.  Melinda let out a snarl and began to shift, brown hair sprouting from her face and fangs springing from her lengthening snout, and suddenly all of the men were pointing their rifles at her.

             
“I’ll trank you right now, you crazy bitch,” one of the men barked at her.  “The doctor said to bring them both to him unharmed.   Back the fuck off.”

             
Snarling, Melinda lumbered away, and Coral felt consciousness slowly fading until mercifully, the world went black.

             
She woke up gradually, groggy, with no idea how much time had gone by.   Had she been knocked out for minutes, or hours?

              She lay on a cold hard table, in a brightly lit room, and even in her human form she could smell the presence of other shifters. Her leg throbbed where Melinda had slashed it, and an I.V. was in her arm.  Her arms and legs were restrained with straps, and her wrists itched and stung.  The straps must be woven through with copper wire, preventing her from shifting to wolf form.

She twisted
her head to the side, and looked around the room.

             
It was a huge room, with walls of industrial white.  She couldn’t even see how big it was. She also couldn’t see any windows.  There were other people strapped down on the tables as well.  They were all naked.

             
They all had I.V. tubes inserted in their arms, and wires running from patches on their chest to monitors that were placed on stands next to their beds.  So did she, she realized.

             
Frederick was lying on a table, she realized.  He was sobbing quietly, tears running down his cheeks.  She could see bruises on his ribs where Melinda had kicked him.

             
He caught her eye. “I’m sorry, Coral,” he moaned. “I’m so stupid. I’m such an idiot.”

             
Yes, you are, Coral thought.  “It’s not your fault,” she said, her words thick and slurred.

             
Yes, it is, you idiot, she thought.

             
Coral realized that she recognized the shifter on the table to her right, from the picture on Mrs. Kirby’s mantelpiece.

              “Marie?” she called out.

             
Marie twisted her head to look at her. There were dark circles under her eyes.

             
“Do I know you?” she asked, bewildered.

             
“No, I’m a reporter. I was investigating your disappearance.  Well, I was trying to,” she added.  Inwardly, she seethed.  She just wanted sixty seconds alone with Melinda.  That was all she’d need. 

             
“You’re here because of me? I’m sorry.” Marie’s voice was weak and sad. “They’re going to kill us all after the comet goes by. Dissect us.”

             
Coral felt a spasm of terror, and nausea twisted her stomach.   Was she really going to die?  Would anyone find them?

             
She got her answer, in the form of a weak voice calling from across the room. “Coral,” Maybelle called. “Are you all right?” 

Coral had to twist her head painfully to see; Blanche and
Maybelle were there, strapped to tables.

             
Coral’s heart plunged to the bottom of her stomach.  Blanche and Maybelle had been her only hope of rescue, and they’d been captured.

             
Sure, Bettina had eavesdropped and so she knew that Coral and Frederick had headed into Metamorph territory…but by the time she realized they were missing and alerted the authorities, it would be far too late.

             
“Well, hello, look who’s awake,” a familiar voice said.   She twisted her head around to see Dr. De Rossi walking towards her, wearing a white physician’s jacket.  He’d accessorized with a gun holster which he wore outside the jacket.  He paused by her table.

             
“You. You sonofabitch. You work for Metamorph,” she said, her voice slurry. 

             
He made a polite half-bow.  “I’m head of the research department, in fact. And you’re the nosy wolf who has been giving us so much grief.  No matter, you’ll end up helping us accomplish our goals today.”

             
“What the hell is going on down here?” she said. “If you’re going to kill me anyway, you might as well satisfy my journalistic curiosity.”

             
“Why not?” he said.  “It’s nothing personal, you understand.  We’re happy you came here today.  We can use you as one of our control subjects.”

             
“Subjects for what?”

             
“There’s a comet passing overhead that will cause a flare-up of power in the ley lines which are directly beneath us.  Hundreds of years ago, it caused countless humans to develop the power to shift into animal form at will.”

             
“I know that.  But why kidnap the original shifters? What does that benefit you?” Coral’s head felt thick as cotton and she had to struggle to speak without slurring.

             
“We theorize that these shifters, with their superior bloodlines, will be even more powerful than regular shifters when exposed to the combination of Archibald’s comet and the ley-line intersection.  Did you know it’s going to pass even closer to Earth this time than it did in the 1800s? It should cause an even more powerful flare-up in the ley lines.    It should increase these descendants’ power and strength exponentially.   It will also be fascinating to see how the comet affects our human test subjects, and our other shifter subjects such as yourself. We’ll extract most of your blood over the next few days, and then dissect you.” 

He spoke eagerly, eyes shining with excitement, as if he were pitching a new product to investors.
“We’ll be able to synthesize the properties of your blood and use it on human mercenaries, to turn them into hyper-powerful killing machines.  And it’s quite possible that I, and all of these human soldiers here, will be able to shift after the comet passes.”

             
“You’re completely frickin’ crazy,” Coral hissed, furious.

             
“Tell that to the governments who are competing to be the first to purchase our Supershifter solution.”

             
Several uniformed men walked up to them, and Coral recognized them as the men who’d accompanied Melinda in the woods where she’d been captured.

             
One of them stepped forward, saluting smartly. 

             
“Garcia.  Are your men ready? Any sign of intruders?” Dr. De Rossi asked.

             
“No, sir, but I still feel you should abort the operation.” Garcia scowled at Dr. De Rossi.  “The risk of exposure is too great. You’re putting all of my men in danger by-”

             
There was a shockingly loud explosion, and a look of surprise flashed across Garcia’s face as a huge hole opened in his chest.  The bang of the gunshot echoed in the room, and Garcia crumpled and fell silently to the floor, his chest a mangled ruin. 

             
De Rossi turned to one of the other men, pointing his pistol at him.  “Nelson. You’re promoted.  Do you have any objection to this operation continuing?”

             
“No, sir,” the man said, a greenish tinge coloring his features as he deliberately avoided looking down at his fallen comrade.

             
“Then let us commence,” De Rossi said.

             
Nelson and the other men turned and walked out of the room.  Marie sobbed quietly, and Coral tried to think of words of comfort, but failed to come up with any.  The best she could think of was “It’ll all be over soon,” which wasn’t particularly comforting.

             
She struggled against her bonds, but she was pinned down and helpless.

             
Suddenly, she heard a scraping noise over her head, and the ceiling above her moved.  As she stared, the ceiling slid back, further and further.

             
Sunlight flooded in, and she blinked hard, temporarily blinded.  Dr. De Rossi must have wanted to ensure that they’d be exposed to the full effect of the meteor shower. 

             
Coral blinked back hot, despairing tears.  Would this be the last time she’d ever feel the sun warming her skin?

She
lay there with the sun beating down on her, and the minutes ticked by, and Dr. De Rossi paced anxiously around the room, checking the readouts on their monitors. 

             
He stopped by Marie’s monitor and peered at it closely, and a smile spread across his face.  “Well, well,” he said. “It’s beginning.”

              Melinda’s heart leaped with joy as she saw Flint and his men swarming through the wooded area.   The sun shone down on him, only on him, lighting him as if he were a figure in a classical painting.  Her unbearably handsome bear, the man who was meant to be with her.  Today would be the day he’d finally realize it.

             
She rushed from behind the trees, calling his name.  He turned to look at her, a startled expression on his face.  Rory was by his side, and there were close to a hundred Enforcers with them. About half were in their animal forms, and the other half had remained in their human form so they could carry weapons.

             
They were a mile from the site where Dr. De Rossi held the shifters and humans prisoner. 

             
Rory and Flint were leading the charge.  They all halted, as did the rest of the Enforcers, as Melinda rushed towards her beloved.

             
“Melinda, what the hell are you doing here? You’re suspended from the force,” Rory snarled.  She ignored him, hate flaring up inside her.  Bastard.   He’d tried to keep her and Flint apart.  Before the day was over, she’d make sure he was dead.

             
She turned to Flint, and gave him her sweetest smile.  “Flint, I couldn’t let you go in there without my help.   I’ve been scouting out the area and…I’m sorry.” She fished out the bloodstained cloth she’d snatched from Coral’s pants leg, and held it up.  “I found the body of that wolf reporter.  She’s dead, Flint, there was nothing I could do for her. I’m sorry.”

             
“What?” Flint’s eyes flew wide open with shock and horror.  Too much shock and horror.  Why should he care so much about that fat wolf bitch?   She forced down her anger, and hoped that her expression of pity was convincing.