Chapter 13

“What’s going on?” I repeated as the elevator doors closed behind the three of us. “What have I done?”

“Nothing,” the first man said. “You’re being promoted.”

Relief stirred, but it didn’t ease the tension. If anything, it did the exact opposite. One part of our plan had worked; now I just had to hope I was taken to the same floor as the rest of the women and that I could actively do something once I was up there.

“If I’m being promoted, why the escort? I can’t remember it happening when any of the other ladies were moved into positions upstairs.”

“No,” the guard said. “But new security procedures have been enacted overnight.”

Because of our raid, perhaps? But even so, it was odd that an employee who’d been working here for a while—someone whom they intended to dissect—would come under the umbrella of any security upgrade. Were they simply ensuring that there were no mistakes, and that I went precisely where I was supposed to go?

Or did they, perhaps, suspect I wasn’t Sharran?

The elevator doors opened and I was marched into the personnel department. The older woman who’d tended to me after the attack looked up as we entered, and something close to sympathy crossed her face. It quickly disappeared as she gathered up a scanner, then rose and walked toward us.

“You’re feeling better, I hope?” She stopped on the other side of the counter and started flicking through the scanner’s screens.

“Yes, thanks.”

“Good, good.” Her voice was absent. “I’m sure these gentlemen have informed you that you’re being promoted. I just need you to sign off from your current position and then they’ll take you upstairs.”

“I don’t suppose you know why this is happening?” It was a question Sharran probably would have asked. “I mean, I’ve haven’t been here as long as some of the other guards.”

“I’m afraid I just process the orders, dear. Sign here, please.” She pointed to a line, then handed me the screen.

Just for a moment, I froze. I had no idea what Sharran’s signature looked like. I’d never thought it would be necessary to learn.

“Hurry up,” one of the guards growled. “We ain’t got all day.”

I hastily scrawled Sharran’s name, and must have got close enough to the real thing, because the screen beeped in approval. The woman grunted and gave me a smile that held little in the way of sincerity. “Good luck with the new position.”

You’re going to need it. She might not have said those words, but they seemed to hover in the air between us. It made me wonder how much she knew about the events on the upper floor, or if it was simply awareness that those who ventured up there were never seen again.

I was led back into the elevator. As the doors began to close, one of the guards ran his RFID chip over the security scanner, then growled, “Twenty-nine.”

That’s the floor where they’re dissecting people, Cat said.

Yes. I watched the floor numbers flash by and tried to keep a lid on the tension twisting my stomach into knots.

I do not think it would be a good idea for you to get dissected, Bear said.

I couldn’t help the slight smile that tugged my lips. With that, I wholeheartedly agree.

Then what is the plan?

I don’t know yet, Bear. We’ll have to play it by ear once we’re up there.

Which was a dangerous ploy, but our only option right now. I could probably take the two guards out, but I doubted I’d get much farther than this elevator; there were cameras in the ceiling, and undoubtedly men or women behind them, watching our every move. This place would become my tomb the minute we reached the twenty-ninth floor.

The elevator came to a smooth halt and the doors silently opened. The hallway beyond was bright and sterile, and the air devoid of any scents or sounds. There were no signs on the pristine walls, nothing to indicate where we were or what might be going on beyond the corridor’s walls. I knew, but only because my ghosts had previously investigated.

But there was also absolutely no place to go beyond the door at the far end. It reminded me of the races livestock were herded into before they were either transported or killed.

The first guard stepped out of the elevator, but I didn’t immediately follow. Not until the second guard gave me a light nudge.

“What is this place?” My tone was hushed but seemed extraordinarily loud in the calm, cool hallway. “I thought we were going to another personnel section?”

“We have to go through processing first,” the man behind me said. “I’m afraid everyone has to be screened and sanitized before proceeding into the main work areas.”

Our footsteps echoed as we walked down the hall, a sound as sharp as my pulse rate. “Sanitized? What does that involve?”

“Nothing more than stripping, going through a purification chamber, and getting an injection.”

Which would undoubtedly render me unconscious. I clenched my fists against the sudden urge to knock these two out and run. Running would be pointless. Besides, I had to keep playing the game until I was alone; only then could I risk tracking down Sal’s body. Though how I was going to destroy it, I wasn’t entirely sure.

The front guard paused, ran his RFID chip across the scanner to the left of the door, and then, when it opened, continued on. The next corridor was shorter, and this time the murmur of conversation could be heard.

We entered a small room that held little more than a desk and a chair. The tall, dusky-skinned woman who’d been standing near the desk swung around as we entered, affording me a brief glimpse of male features before the comm unit went dark. The face wasn’t one I recognized, and relief shot through me. I’d half expected it to be Rath Winter. That it wasn’t hopefully meant they didn’t suspect Sharran to be anything more than another test subject; Winter would hardly lead me into the heart of his organization accompanied only by two unarmed men if in any way he suspected otherwise.

The woman gave me a wide, friendly smile. I guess it was supposed to put me at ease, but it did the opposite.

“Sharran, so glad you made it here.” She stuck out her hand. “Janice Harvey. I’ll be your coordinator until you’re fully settled in.”

I somewhat reluctantly shook her hand. Her grip was firm, but not overly so. “No one’s actually told me what the new job entails. I was just escorted up here.”

“Ah yes, sorry about that, but there’s been a few problems and we’ve had to employ strict security conditions for the immediate future. No one goes anywhere without an escort.”

“So that’s what I’m going to be doing? Escorting and guarding people.”

“Of course.” She flashed a smile that seemed totally genuine but had the hairs along the back of my neck rising. “Now, if you’ll just come this way?”

She’s as fake as the guise you’re wearing, Cat commented as I followed the woman. Are you sure you don’t want us to cause a little mayhem?

Not yet. We’ll save it for later.

You may be unconscious later, Bear pointed out.

In which case, I’ll need you to keep me safe while I recover from whatever drug they give me.

Presuming I could recover, of course. After that incident in the tenth-floor foyer, it was entirely possible I’d be affected as badly as everyone else.

The next room held the purification chamber and a comfortable-looking chair. The woman stopped and looked past me. “Gentlemen, please wait outside. Sharran, can you strip? You can place your clothes in the small chute behind you. We’ll get them sanitized and then return them to you.”

Or not, as was more likely the case, given what they were doing to everyone they brought up here. I undressed, then tossed the tunic into the chute. The air in the room was cool, and goose bumps prickled my skin. I rubbed my arms lightly as the woman activated the chamber.

“Right.” The fake smile flashed again as a soft hissing began inside the chamber. “Just step inside so we can clear your flesh of any contaminants—”

“I did have a shower before I came to work today.” I knew it didn’t matter in highly sensitive areas such as labs, but Sharran might not have.

Janice gave me a condescending sort of smile. “Yes, dear, but we have to be totally sure you didn’t pick anything up between your house and here. Even the smallest amount of contaminant in a sterile lab could ruin billions of dollars of research.”

I planned to do a whole lot more than simply ruin their research, but I could hardly say that. I lowered my head slightly so that my hair hid my expression and walked into the chamber. Once the doors at either end had closed, jets of warm, slightly antiseptic-smelling steam hit my flesh. I drew in a clean breath of air, then held it as the slightly noxious gas reached face level. The jets continued to stream air on and around my body; then fans kicked in and the gas—and presumably any contaminants—was sucked out again. The door directly in front of me opened, so I stepped out and released the breath I’d been holding.

Janice flashed me another of those insincere smiles. “Now, if you’ll just sit on the chair, I can give you the injection and you can be on your way.”

I sat as requested and half smiled when I realized the cushion was heated. Nothing like a final piece of comfort for those you were intending to dissect.

As Janice moved across to the sterilizer, I said, Cat, can you tell me the name of the drug she’s about to use?

Cat followed the woman and after a moment said, It says Oxy45.

Which was a synthetic opioid drug similar to morphine, but a thousand times stronger. In its purest form, as little as one drop could kill someone in a matter of minutes, but Oxy45 was mixed with several other drugs that countered the worst of its effects, rendering people unconscious within minutes without causing severe respiratory depression.

It was also an older drug, which meant there was a good chance that I’d either be immune to it or, at the very least, be able to erase it from my system.

I held out my arm and watched as Janice brought up a vein, then injected me. It felt like ice. I frowned and instantly began the process that would drop me into the healing state, but kept enough awareness to be able to move for at least a few more minutes.

“Right,” she said, withdrawing the needle and spraying a sealer over the entry point. “That might initially feel a bit weird, but it won’t last. Just sit there for a few minutes so we can be sure there’s no side effects.”

She glanced at her watch as she moved back to the sterilizer. The ice continued to slide through my veins, but there didn’t seem to be any immediate effect. I certainly wasn’t slipping into unconsciousness, although that didn’t mean the drug wouldn’t affect me. It might just mean it was going to take a bit longer. Cat, Bear, I’m going to close my eyes and chase the drug from my system. I’ll need you to be my eyes. Bring me back if anything untoward happens.

Like the threat of dissection? Bear asked, amused.

Definitely wake me before that. I love you both, but I’m not ready to join you in the afterlife just yet.

Good, Cat said. Because it’d be boring if you were one of us.

You’ve obviously forgotten the past hundred years. It’s only in the last couple of weeks that things have gotten exciting.

Yes. Her mental tones were wistful. I will miss them all when they leave.

So will I. So much so that I didn’t even want to think about it. Jonas might have said he wanted to pursue the attraction, but that didn’t mean he intended to stick around once he had done so. Cats were not by nature monogamous, even if those who lived in the cities tended to stick by the same one or two mates. But that, I suspected, was more due to the lack of choice than any real desire to remain faithful to one person.

Not that I wanted monogamy so much as company that was real rather than ghostly.

I closed my eyes and dropped fully into the healing state. I could still hear, though, even if I couldn’t see. Not that it meant all that much; if Janice Harvey was moving about, then she was quieter than a ghost. Time seemed to stretch as I chased down the drug in my veins and carefully erased its coldness and its effects from my system.

“Righto, gentlemen,” Harvey eventually said. “You can come retrieve your prize.”

Had I not been in the trancelike healing state, the sudden sound of her voice in the void of silence would have made me jump. I pushed myself back to consciousness but kept my eyes firmly closed and my body loose. Relaxed.

One of the men snorted. “She’s hardly a prize. She’s all skin and damn bone.”

“But skin and bone that might well hold the remaining key. Dump her in cell six. I’ll inform lab two she’s in. And no playing, remember?”

“I’ve got better taste than this.”

Hands grabbed me, their grip bruising as they hauled me upright. With little ceremony, I was dragged out of the room.

Bear? Where are we going?

His energy whipped through me, creating the light connection that allowed me to see through his eyes. We continued on down the shorter corridor. The door at the end opened as we approached, revealing a T-intersection. Bear surged through the doorway and stopped in the middle of the T. To the left and the right were dozens of doors; each one, I suspected, would lead into a small laboratory.

The dissection rooms are situated on the other side of the building, Cat said. That is where Sal is.

And the holding cells?

To the right.

There were six in total. All of them were opened. All of them were empty.

Do you want to find out what’s happened to the women, Cat? I knew deep down that they’d probably be in the dissection rooms, but part of me couldn’t help hoping I was wrong. That they were simply undergoing a final check of some sort, and were safe and whole. Saving them might not be a priority, but I would if I could. Having them in the cells rather than on tables gave them a better chance. But if they were on the tables . . .

I shut the thought off, not wanting to think about it. Not yet.

The two men took me into the end cell on the left and dumped me facedown onto the single bunk. One adjusted my position so that I was in no danger of suffocating, then followed the other man out the door.

As the sound of their footsteps faded, I said, Bear, spin slowly around so I can see what’s in the room.

He obeyed. It was little more than a two-by-two-meter square that was barely big enough for the bed. There was nothing else in the room except for the camera perched squarely in one corner, aimed right at the bed. I couldn’t do anything until that was taken care of.

I can short-circuit it, Bear suggested.

Good idea. But start with the other cells first. We don’t want suspicions raised.

As he broke our connection, then raced off, Cat returned. The women are in the dissection rooms. Her mental tones were solemn. They are being connected to the machines that will keep their flesh alive.

So they’re still alive?

At this point, yes.

Which meant if I wanted any hope of stopping the procedure and giving them a chance, I would have to act quickly.

Bear returned and sparks flew as the camera short-circuited. A few seconds later came the sound of running steps.

Guards, Bear supplied helpfully. They’re checking all the rooms.

The heavy steps came closer and then someone who smelled faintly of garlic came into the room. “This one’s out, too,” he said, voice loud. “Why the hell would all six go out like that?”

“How the fuck would I know?” came the reply from the next room. “Do I look like a technician to you?”

“No, you look like a dick, but I won’t hold that against you.”

“Asshole,” was the good-natured reply. “For that, you can report back to Tech Support.”

Garlic Man snorted. “I can’t see how it even matters. They’re all comatose, so it’s not like they can actually do anything.”

“We’re being paid good money to watch the near dead, so quit the grumbling and go report to the tech heads.”

Garlic Man continued to grumble as he left the room. I opened my eyes and sat up. To get into the more secure areas I was going to have to either take out the guards or shut down the power for the entire floor. The former was definitely the easier option—one that would give me at least some time before anyone suspected something was wrong. How I was going to get out once someone did was another matter entirely—and a question I couldn’t yet answer.

One thing was certain—Sharran could never come back here. She didn’t deserve to end up on a dissection table—or worse—for agreeing to help us.

I sucked in the power of the lights and created a sun shield, then hurried down the hall after the guards, who were still good-naturedly ribbing each other. Obviously, they, like the scientists, saw absolutely nothing wrong in any of the experiments being conducted in this place.

It made me wonder if there was any hope for humanity as a whole, because nothing seemed to have been learned from the mistakes of the past. The déchet program had been the result of experiments such as the ones that were happening on this floor, and while I owed my existence to them, they were definitely something that should have been left in the dust of the past, right alongside the bones of all déchet.

Bear, can you go back to the doctor’s lab and grab a knife and the sealant for me?

He raced away again and Cat pressed closer, her energy biting at my skin. We are nearing the dissection laboratories.

I know. The faint scent of blood rode the otherwise sterile air.

We should help the ones who lie open, even if it makes them ghosts.

Right now our priority has to be getting rid of Sal’s body. If we have the time afterward, then we can do something.

We could short-circuit everything. That will stop the machines that keep them alive.

And drain you both. We can’t help everyone, Cat. In a war, sacrifices have to made.

We are not at war.

Not yet. But the principles still apply. I sent her a mental hug, and wished I could do it for real. I want to help these women as much as you, but it may yet come down to a choice of saving them or getting out of here.

And we need to get out of here to save the children. She was silent for a moment, then said, I’d feel bad about not helping them.

So would I, Cat. So would I.

The two men swung into a room on the left. I hurried up and snuck in behind them. Inside, there was a long desk filled with an array of light screens, a huge, rather sturdy-looking metal cabinet, and a third guard.

Think you can take him out, Cat?

Yes.

The determination in her voice had a smile tugging at my lips. As the door behind us began to close, the third man turned and said, “Well? What’s the problem?”

“Fucked if I know,” Garlic Man’s companion said. “It’s a job for the tech assholes, not me. Jim’s about to give them a call.”

“Since when did that become my job? You’re the one getting paid the supervisory money, not me.”

Now, Cat, I said, then stepped closer, raised a fist, and punched Garlic Man as hard as I could. As he went down, I swung and booted his companion in the balls. His breath left in a wheeze and—as he instinctively clutched himself and doubled over—I hit him again. He fell treelike across the prone form of the first guard. A grunt had me turning quickly; the third man toppled from his chair, an assault rifle hovering—butt first—a foot or so above him.

“Good work, Cat.”

She preened. I stepped past her and opened the unlocked cabinet. It was filled with weapons, and by all rights should have been locked. The guards had obviously suspected the worst when Bear shorted the six cameras, and had simply grabbed their guns and headed out without relocking it. Which was good news for me; if things went wrong—and they more than likely would once I started destroying things—then at least I had an arsenal to use.

Once I released the sun shield, I patted the men down, relieving them of their weapons, then hit the door switch and partially opened it again. Bear might be able to slip through solid matter, but anything he was carrying wouldn’t.

As I waited for him to return, I sat down at the desk and studied the various light screens. There were more guards situated inside what I presumed were the main labs, given their size and the number of people within them, but none in any of the dissection rooms—including the one that held Sal’s body. Janice Harvey wasn’t in the purification room and didn’t seem to be anywhere else on the floor. The two guards who’d escorted me up here were also missing.

Unease stirred, but I shoved it aside. I could deal with them if and when I came across them. Right now I needed to find a way out, and then I needed to go finish what I’d started at Old Stan’s.

I keyed in a search for floor plans, and after a second or two they popped up on the nearest screen. This level was basically broken into three squares—the inner, smallest being the elevator foyer, the second being a series of large labs, and the third being smaller labs and rooms such as the cells and the dissection laboratories that ran around the exterior walls. One main corridor ran around the entire floor, and the corridor that led from the elevators appeared to be the only way in and out.

I frowned and made the image larger. There had to be fire escapes somewhere—it was illegal to build without them. After another couple of minutes, I found one tucked into a corner of a lab near the lobby, but I couldn’t see where it was accessed.

I can check, Cat suggested.

“Please.”

She returned the rifle to the cabinet, then headed out just as Bear was coming in. He plunked a plastic bag in front of me. Inside was not only the sealer and scalpel I’d asked for, but a syringe and the Oxy45.

Thought the latter might be useful, he said.

“You thought right.”

I quickly injected the three men, then began stripping the uniform from the man closest to my size. While I was incapable of taking on a male form, I could certainly alter my features and make everything appear a bit manlier.

With that done, I grabbed the scalpel and cut his RFID chip out of his arm. Blood pulsed over both his companions and the floor, an indication that I’d probably nicked a vein. Whether he’d bleed out or not I didn’t know, and to be honest, I didn’t really care.

I cleaned off the chip and then, using the sealant, secured it to my palm. It probably wouldn’t last as long as the false skin Jonas had used, but it didn’t really need to. Once I’d altered both my features and my scent enough that a causal glance might mistake me as male, I changed clothes.

Eww, Cat said, when she returned. That form is not your finest.

I smiled. “The fire escape?”

Locked but otherwise not blocked off.

Locks could be shot off, but did I want to be trapped in such a small space?

Did I have any other choice?

Not really. Not unless I totally shut down all power to this place, and I could only do that by studying the electrical plans and finding the isolation switches. That would take time, and time was something I might not have a whole lot of right now. Not if Janice’s comment about notifying lab 2 that I was prepped and ready meant they would be coming to fetch me sooner rather than later.

I ran my stolen RFID chip over the scanner, ordered up the main security control screen, and systematically shut down all the cameras on this floor. I couldn’t afford to have them active when I began destroying things, because I had no idea if they streamed anywhere else other than this floor. Shutting them all down might well result in alarms being raised, but the guards had made an initial report about the camera fault in the cells, so they might just think this was an extension of that.

I pushed away from the console and walked back over to the weapons cabinet. I slung several assault rifles over my shoulder, clipped a couple of smaller guns onto the hooks at my waist, then pocketed as much ammo as I could carry. Then I hit the button to fully open the door and strode purposefully down the hall. Several white-coated men passed me, but none paid me any attention. I followed the corridor around to the other side of the building, slowing only when I approached the lab that held Sal’s body.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself against Rhea knows what, then ran the stolen RFID chip over the scanner and entered the lab.

He was lying on a table in the middle of the room, his body barely visible thanks to all the machines that were keeping his flesh viable. But I could see his face even though his skull lay open and his brain was exposed. The ugly mask of hatred—the very last expression he’d managed before the Sueño I’d used on him robbed him of life—was still frozen on his face.

I ignored the stubborn remnant of remorse within me despite knowing I’d had no other choice but to kill, and moved closer. The metallic click of the pump that had replaced his heart filled the silence and sent unease shivering down my spine.

Aside from the pump in his chest cavity, there was a dialysis machine as well as a myriad of other bits of equipment monitoring his various life signs. Although life was a misnomer in this case, because this wasn’t life, only flesh being kept alive. His spirit—his consciousness—had long departed.

I continued on past the table and studied the rest of the lab, looking for some means of destroying his remains. Cutting the power wasn’t really enough; I had to make sure there was absolutely nothing of him left that they could use to further their macabre plans. Which meant I had two options; either I needed to find a powerful acid that would destroy every scrap of flesh, muscle, and bone, or I’d have to create a chemical reaction that would have the same sort of effect. Given that there were plenty of chemicals in most labs, surely I’d be able to find something to use.

After a moment, I spotted a secure cabinet and walked across. Inside were half a dozen or so chemicals in heavy containers, all of them bearing warnings about toxicity and handling. I had no idea what any of them did, but several had “acid” as part of their name, so I grabbed them as well as the pair of heavy-duty gloves hanging inside the doors and walked back across.

And felt it.

A stirring of energy across the far side of the room.

I stopped. Cat? Bear? Are you both okay?

They assured me that they were and then Cat added, But there is a ghost here.

The unease I’d felt when I first stepped into this room leapt back into focus. Given the number of women who must have been killed on this floor over the years Sal and his partners were dissecting and experimenting, there were plenty of reasons for ghosts to be here.

Plenty of reasons not to be afraid of them.

But this ghost was in the same room as the body of a man I’d murdered. And I really, really didn’t want it to be him.

Can you see it? Maybe even talk to it?

It hides its form, Cat said. I’m not sure it’s aware of our presence. It seems solely focused on what you’re doing.

The tension within me ratcheted another notch. Keep it that way, but warn me if it moves.

As their agreement ran through my mind, I pulled on the heavy gloves, then carefully undid the lids and lifted the first container.

But as I started to pour its contents over Sal’s body, the ghosts screamed a warning and the container was ripped from my hands. It flew across the room, spilling liquid all over the floor before skidding across a table and smashing into several glass vials.

Then, on the other side of Sal’s body, a figure began to form.

It wasn’t the ghostly form of any of the women who’d died here.

It was, as I’d feared, Sal himself.