tightened his grip in retaliation. Between the throbbing in my arm and the wig tickling my leg, walking wasn’t easy. Trying my best to ignore these inconveniences, I surveyed my surroundings, searching for any possible escape route.
What I saw did little to increase my confidence.
We were trapped in what appeared to be an abandoned school.
Each passing door had a window, and I could see more women. Some were resting inside what looked like classrooms turned dormitories. Others were seated at sewing machines. Several classrooms were filled with supplies, weapons, and canned food. The place reminded me of a women’s minimum security prison combined with a survival training camp of some sort. Cameras were mounted above us, red lights blinking as they monitored our movements. Throughout the hallways, men patrolled with assault rifles resting on their shoulders.
This building was not escape friendly. I’d have my work cut out for me. I needed some major help — supernatural help.
From my brief observations, I’d determined that most of the women were scared, and they also appeared unhappy with their circumstances. If I could gather enough support for my cause, we could overthrow Jazmine and her crew. There were more than enough weapons to go around.
At the passages end, a staircase wound downward. Fantastic. This had to be the way to my new home in the lower hallway
Forcing my feet together, I refused to take another step without first testing the loyalty of Jazmine’s closest sidekicks. “Why do you listen to Jazmine? She’s just using you. You could fight back like real men, you know.”
“And why would we want to do that?” Mr. Tight Grip said, digging his fingers deeper into my flesh. I winced, and a little whimper escaped my mouth.
“Because she’s a lying bitch,” I managed to hiss through gritted teeth.
“Man, let up on her arm,” my right-sided captor commanded. He released my arm, taking a long step back. I knew what was going to happen next.
Since mutants no longer required a full moon to shift, I’d guessed right.
In what seemed like slow motion, his snout elongated and his body expanded, sprouting patches of fur in the process. Fingers became razor sharp claws, and his mouth filled with jagged fangs. I wasn’t sure how, but unlike the purebreds, his clothing stayed on, sort of. They were ripped and tattered like the Incredible Hulk’s after his transmutation.
Instead of shifting, his taller counterpart, whipped out his sidearm and a crackle of gunfire followed, pulverizing my defender’s chest. He stumbled and tottered before plummeting backward, furry arms flailing but failing to stop his fall.
What felt like a small earthquake rocked the concrete floor, causing me to topple forward. I landed with a thud next to the bloodied mutant. The holes in his chest were more than bleeding; they were smoking. Silver — of course — the one thing that could kill both werewolves and mutants.
“Listen,” with a gurgling, wet sound the fallen creature managed to whisper.
I leaned forward, pressing my ear to his snout. Afraid he might not finish, I plunged, without permission, into what were surely his last thoughts. I’m in your mind. Think, don’t talk.
I’m Dante. I’m so sorry. I was trying to help. They’re creating an army.
I didn’t like the sound of that. For what?
To destroy the purebreds and take over their holdings, then the humans. His chest rattled as death crept closer.
A hand grabbed my shoulder, ripping me from Dante’s shuddering form.
The bald men can help. The old barge …
What barge? I asked hoping to latch onto his final thought.
It was too late. He was already shrinking, his human body replacing the mutant one.
I’d never been inside an animal’s mind at the moment of death. What I felt was empty darkness, like the universe without stars. The shell remained, but the soul had departed. Dante, I hoped, was in a better place.
For the first time since my capture, I allowed a tsunami of hopelessness to wash over me. Wave after wave, bowed my body until I was grasping my thighs. A torrent of hot tears followed.
Without comment, my remaining guard yanked me upright. This time, I marched obediently beside him down the staircase. I could hear doors above opening and women screaming. I knew the other guards were already descending on Dante’s motionless form.
They’d seen the whole thing. One or two of them had even laughed. Their laughter was what pushed me over the edge. What little faith I’d clung to was washed away with my tears.