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Authors: Erin Lark

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BOOK: Rippled
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“Looks like.”

“All of it?”

“I’m not sure. All that’s here, though.” He opened the bottom drawers as if to make a point. “Just more files.”

The cabinet drawer slammed shut and a bit of static made its way into the room.

“Brian. Brian, are you there?” It was Darien’s voice, and it was then I realised Brian had a radio strapped to his belt.

Brian jumped and picked up the radio. “What do you have?”

“You want bad news, or more bad news?”

“Fuck.” Brian cast me a wary glance, then said, “Bad news, I guess.”

“Malcom’s headed your way.”

I couldn’t see the expression on Brian’s face, but if I could guess, I’d say that news wasn’t just bad—it was terrible. “Does he know? Can any of your men stop him?” Brian paused, then with more urgency said, “Darien, does he know?”

The radio beeped twice, and the static was gone.

“Shit. We have to go.”

I scanned the room. “Go where?” There was nowhere else to go. Not unless we wanted to run right into him. “And what about Darien and the others?”

“Those beeps we just heard? He was turning his radio off, and I seriously doubt Malcom’s the one we should be worried about.”

“Meaning?”

“We’ve got company, and not the kind you offer coffee to.” He ran a hand through his hair as he carried the case of vials over to a large sink. “We have to destroy it.”

His words were choked, almost as if he regretted saying them. Like he was trying to convince himself that it was the right thing to do. Brian pulled one vial from the casing and threw it into the sink, causing bits of glass and an odour I couldn’t place to spill over its surface.

I watched diligently as he destroyed one vial right after the other. He wasn’t violent with them—not what I expected. He seemed to be having second thoughts, but each time I saw his hand pause in mid-air, it would pick up momentum seconds later, causing more glass breakage and additional stench to fill the room. It was acidic in nature and made my nose burn the more Brian dumped into the sink.

I lowered my ears each time I saw his jaw tighten. It must’ve been hard for him. Even if he hadn’t made the drug, he’d helped design it. And I honestly wasn’t sure what bothered him the most—the fact Malcom had gone behind his back, had used him or because the virus had to be destroyed.
Leave nothing behind.

He’d spoken about destroying whatever was left of the virus more often than not, but I guess this wasn’t how he’d planned on doing it. By now, there were only two vials left, and I flicked an ear when I heard footsteps outside the door.

“Hurry,” I urged, casting a wary glance behind us.

A face appeared in the window—Malcom—and he was clearly just as surprised as we were. When I looked back at Brian, there was only one vial left. He lifted it above the sink, paused. Stopped.

“What are you doing?” I asked, flicking my tail behind me. “Get rid of it!”

“Covering our asses,” Brian said, shoving the vial into one of his pockets.

The door to the room opened and light from Malcom’s flashlight spilled onto the floor around us. Every strand of fur on my body stood on end. I growled in Malcom’s direction. My claws dug at the floor, and I was sure if it hadn’t been concrete, I would’ve left some pretty nasty marks.

I was about to take a step forward when Brian stopped me, his hand on the scruff of my neck.

“It’s okay,” Brian said, pushing me back until I sat down. “This isn’t your fight.” He paused and peered out into the hallway behind Malcom. “You’re alone?”

“What the fuck do you think? Do you have any idea the crap I had to pull just to get down here? Fuck Darien and his men,” Malcom snarled, closing the door behind him. He eyed the broken vials in the sink. “I hope you don’t think that’s the last of the virus.”

“It’s a start.” Brian’s hand moved to his pocket with the last vial in it.

“A start to what?” Malcom crossed his arms over his chest, which he’d puffed up since he’d got there.

“To stopping all of this.” Brian pulled a syringe off a nearby counter, holding it up so Malcom could see. “You can’t honestly believe what you’re doing is worth the risk. Not after all that’s happened.” He held up a hand when Malcom went to speak. “I’m not done yet. You said you can’t understand the virus. What better way to see where we’re coming from than to take it yourself?”

I froze when he pulled the vial from his pocket, adding it to the syringe he had in his other hand. “Brian…”

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Malcom asked, his eyes as wide as they could go.

Brian shook his head. “If anything, your virus has made me smarter. I can see you for what you are now. Question is, are you willing to take it? If you trust in the virus so much, why haven’t you used it yourself?”

“Do you hear yourself?” Malcom asked.

“What are you so afraid of?” Brian continued when Malcom looked in my direction, “Leave Krista out of this. She has nothing to do with the two of us. She can control herself—without your drugs. Can you?”

“You wouldn’t honestly subject me to—”

“To what? This? Us? This life you gave us? Don’t you remember who came up with the formula?”

“But you didn’t have the guts to practice it!”

“I wonder why that is. For one second in your life, take off those damned glasses and see what’s really going on here.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Malcom hadn’t moved, not even when Brian had loaded the virus into the syringe.

“You tell me. Is this what you expected? Is this what you wanted for us? What about that woman you killed?”

“I wanted it to work, and it did.” Malcom reached for his belt and grimaced when he found no radio, no way to contact the guards outside the room.

“What, to see some kind of reaction?” Brian fisted his hand around the vial, so much so I was surprised when it didn’t break. “Well, here it is.” He pointed at me. “Do you want to see it again?”

I wasn’t sure what Brian expected—what he wanted me to do—so for now, I let the leopard take over. My mind went blank, and all I could think about were the scents in the room.
Foul. Sour. Bitter. Rage
. I wanted out. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

“You’re going to let us go,” Brian said, his voice carefully entering my mind.

“Oh, and why is that?” Malcom didn’t take his eyes off me.

“Because deep down, I know this isn’t what you wanted, and also because of this.” Brian strode across the room until he was face to face with Malcom. “You see this vial? I can take what’s inside it. I’ve taken it before. It won’t have any effect on me. You on the other hand—if you don’t let us go, this drug will enter your system the same way it entered mine. You’ll be hunted just like the rest of us—
if
you survive your first shift, which seems pretty unlikely as of late, don’t you think?”

Malcom swallowed hard. Took a step back, another, until he was up against the wall. Against the door—his hand on the knob.

“You won’t get far,” he warned, opening the door.

“We’ll get as far as we can,” Brian said in a tone that matched Malcom’s. “Where’s the exit?”

“Down the hall, under the floor.” Malcom licked his lips. “It’s a service entrance. It will go underground and take you straight out of the facility.”

My paws itched to run, but I didn’t move. And as soon as Brian had backed away from Malcom, I took my chance. Following instinct alone and remembering the hell he’d put me—all of us—through, I lunged forward. He was back against a wall. Cornered.
Easy prey.

My heart thrummed wildly as I caught a claw in his leg. He cried out, frantically pulling at my paw. I clenched my jaw. Told myself not to bite. Not to kill.

You only need to scare him.

I was losing control. Losing myself to the virus. There was no reasoning. No guilt.

I tore at his pants leg, and a thrill washed over me when the fabric tattered from my sharp claws.

“Krista, stop this,” came Brian’s voice from somewhere behind me.

I glared at him with fierce eyes. Out of control. He set the syringe on the counter and shifted before I could react. Sharp teeth bit at the back of my neck. Not painful—assertive. I released Malcom’s leg. Pulled against Brian’s hold on me. He didn’t let go.

I tried to turn around, to swipe at him with a paw. But I was paralysed, unable to touch a damned thing. When he seemed sure I’d calmed down, Brian released me.

“Thanks,” Malcom said, rubbing at his leg.

“I didn’t do it for you,” Brian growled. He looked at me before giving Malcom his full attention. “What’s coming?”

“The DOD, and they’re already here. Including the Secretary of Defense.”

Brian pushed Malcom to the side. “Jesus Christ, Malcom. What have you gotten us into now?”

“It’s not any of your concern. You’ve already made that clear.” Malcom gestured to the door. “I’ll hold them back as long as I can. Oh, and Brian?”

Brian glanced back at him as he ushered me out into the hall—his attention still on me.

Don’t do anything stupid.

“I don’t exist.”

“None of us do,” Brian corrected him.

As we turned down the hall, I asked, “You aren’t going to turn him?”

“No.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because I’m not like that.”

“Like what?”

“A killer.”

“So he’ll just get away?”

“No—he won’t be going anywhere, not with the DOD crawling all over the place.”

“Then what makes you think we can get out?”
And what about the last vial?
I bit my lip. If we went back now, I knew we wouldn’t find it.

“We’re faster. Stronger. And so long as we keep our leopard skins, they won’t know who we are.” He stopped and shifted back to his human form to open the latch in the floor. As soon as we were in the tunnel, he shifted again and licked at my muzzle. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

He bowed his head. There was nothing else either one of us could say. By now, Malcom was probably back on the surface warning the DOD of a possible attack. I just hoped we were ready.

Chapter Seventeen

 

 

 

Brian

 

Malcom hadn’t been kidding. As soon as we were out of the tunnel, Krista and I were out of range of the DOD, the shifters and everyone else. My heart urged us to move forward, to get as far away from here as we could. But the rest of me wanted to stay. And when Krista didn’t move, I knew she was as badly off as I was.

This had been her home for as long as she could remember. Leaving now, even if it was under attack, didn’t feel right. My gut twisted with guilt.

“We have to go back,” Krista said, her eyes on something far in the distance.

I know.
“We can’t.”
We won’t get a chance like this ever again.

I studied the silhouettes of humans and leopards alike as those affected by the virus shifted to protect whatever home they had left. “Darien will get them out.”

Now Krista did look at me, her ears lowered. “Darien and his men against the Secretary of Defense, Malcom and his followers? By themselves?”

There was that tug of guilt again. “We all knew what we were getting into when we woke up this morning.”

“What happened to leaving no one behind?” When I didn’t answer, Krista started to run for the camp. “I’m going back.”

Swallowing around my fears, guilt and whatever else my body could conjure up, I chased after her. I’d stopped her from doing something once before, but this? I couldn’t stop her from doing something I wanted to do myself. She was right. Leaving Darien and the others behind wasn’t something we could do.
Not without carrying our guilt with us for the rest of our lives.

And even though I’d known Darien, Malcom and everyone else a lot longer than Krista, she seemed more passionate about this than I was. I’d seen what the virus could do to her. What it was still doing to her. If she lost control again—if she gave in to the leopard completely—I wasn’t sure I could stop her. Not without a lot of help. And drugging her again wasn’t something I was willing to do. We couldn’t risk reversing it again. She’d be a hollow shell for the rest of her life.

My paws pounded against the ground as blood pooled behind my ears. Throbbing. Beating. Warning me to turn back.
We aren’t there yet. We can still—

The hell?

Krista stopped in the same instant it took for me to pull at her tail. Narrowing my eyes, I studied the shadows inside the camp once more. To my surprise, I realised that, with much confusion, the DOD wasn’t attacking. They were…

Helping us…

The other shifters had been released, and Darien, along with many of the guards, were working on getting everyone out. But there, in the middle of it all, was Malcom, a gun held out before him. Krista and I took a step back, and my throat tightened when I realised who Malcom had cornered in the yard.

He’s out of his mind!

“Is that the—” Krista began.

“Secretary of Defense?” I nodded.

“And the gun? It doesn’t shoot tranquilisers, does it?”

I licked my lips. “No. Far from it. But Darien’s does…” I searched the yard for Darien. He was opening the gate on the side closest to us. “Darien, get Malcom!”

Darien glanced in my direction, then looked over his shoulder. “Oh, shit.”

He motioned to a few of his men who still had their tranquiliser guns.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Krista asked, her tail flicking behind her. “For Malcom to be treated like one of us?”

“He isn’t yet…”

“But if he shoots the Secretary of Defense, he will be. He’ll have to run, just like the rest of us.”

“Yes, but not like this,” I said. “If he…if any of us—leopard or human—hurts, much less kills, the Secretary, we’ll be hunted to the ends of our lives. He has to be stopped.”

Krista’s fur bristled and she took a step forward. To her, everyone inside the camp was the enemy. I knew she couldn’t pick out the differences between the two. They were both innocent in their own rights. They were all doing their jobs. Including Malcom—or at least he had been until he’d decided to pick up a fucking gun.

BOOK: Rippled
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