Body Thief (42 page)

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Authors: C.J. Barry

BOOK: Body Thief
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Behind her gas mask, Cam saw the first explosion burst from the manhole, ripping through the tent and throwing flames and people everywhere. The intersection lit up, blinding her momentarily.
Men ran from the truck yelling. A second explosion totaled the truck and blew out the windows of the apartments and storefronts on the corner. Flying shrapnel pelted concrete and flesh.
They were too late
.
Griffin and one group of Shifters ran toward the first explosion. She and the rest of the Shifters ran for the second truck. If they could get there in time to turn off the gas . . .
She didn’t even get to finish her thought before the second manhole belched forth smoke and fire. Braxton’s men stumbled away, clutching their face masks. A large section of hose dropped from the sky right beside her. Thick, green liquid oozed from it as it rolled across the intersection.
Her heart sank. The gas was already in the ground. Her father . . . He’d die for certain. Aristotle and his supporters. And the others, Shifters trying to survive underground.
She yelled into her comm unit to Red, who was holding down the underground fort. “Get everyone out, Red! The gas is in the ground! Get out!”
It was all she could do for them, and she had to push past the fear in her heart. She needed to focus, to make sure everyone knew her people didn’t do this, or they’d all be doomed. She wouldn’t let that happen again.
People living in the apartments over the businesses on the corner were pouring down the stairs and out into the street. She ran toward them to warn them to flee, but they took one look at her and the other shapeshifters in their native form and screamed in terror. More explosions from underground blew open manholes down the street. Flames shot out from one building. It was like a war zone.
She stood in the middle of the street, feeling helpless in the face of the nightmarish scene.
“Cam! Go!”
She turned to find Griffin waving at her. That’s when she noticed that some of Braxton’s men were rolling on the ground, coughing. What the hell?
“It’s the gas!” Griffin shouted as he ran toward her. “It kills humans too.”
Then she realized the downed men’s gas masks were compromised. They were dying. That wasn’t supposed to happen. It was just the Shifters. Did Harding know that? How could he knowingly do this? It was numbing, inconceivable even for him.
Griffin reached her and dragged her by the hand, but she pulled him to a stop. She pointed to the people pouring out of the apartments. “Those people are going to die.”
“Too late, Cam,” Griffin said. He wasn’t wearing a mask, and he was already coughing. He couldn’t stay here, but she could. Her Shifters could. It wasn’t too late. They were going to save as many people as they could. This had to stop.
“You get out!” She shoved him away and pointed down the street. “Go! Call 911. Set up a perimeter. We’ll bring them out to you.”
Griffin coughed, and she hit him hard in the chest, throwing him back. He stumbled, landing ten feet away.
She didn’t wait; she ran into the center of the intersection and started dragging people away from the infernos. The other Shifters followed her lead. One by one, they deposited the unconscious humans half a block away. Each trip, she searched for Griffin but didn’t see any sign of him. Hopefully, he’d done what she’d asked and was coordinating a perimeter.
Cam concentrated on her own job, racing through the halls and rooms of the buildings and apartments looking for more people. She lost count of how many people she moved out of harm’s way.
Sirens wailed in the distance, bringing with them the risk of discovery, blame, and retaliation for her and the other shapeshifters. But she needed her more powerful Shifter form as she carried people over her shoulders, two at time, and ran with them to relative safety. Every manhole in this city was now a potential bomb. This could turn into a disaster of biblical proportions.
Cam went back five times before she started to feel the effects of the gas despite her protective mask. It burned her lungs and scattered her acute Shifter senses. The last of the people were dragged away, and she told the other Shifters to escape while they still could.
She was about to do the same when she noticed a homeless man curled up in a ball behind a parked car.
“Crap,” she whispered and felt the rawness of her throat.
She headed toward him, feeling light-headed, like her feet weren’t touching the ground. The man’s eyes were rolled up into his head when she reached him.
“I got you,” she said, and pulled him up over her shoulder. Her Shifter knees buckled a little. It was only one small man, she must be tired.
Her vision began to fail as she walked the man away from the intersection. Every step became harder, requiring more concentration just to keep moving. Fog hindered her thoughts. The concrete floated by her. Were her feet even touching the ground? Alarm arose in her mind.
Faster,
she thought,
need to go faster
. Then she faltered and felt the sidewalk, solid and unforgiving, beneath her feet. The city swayed around her. She stumbled and fell but managed to protect the man from hitting the concrete. She rolled onto her back, everything spinning. Overhead, the night sky was dark and clear. The city noise faded into the distance.
I want to fly,
she thought.
The night sky drew closer as if she were being lifted up.
Take me home
.
And then the night swallowed her whole.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
 
I
t was the morning after. Harding had cleaned out all the files, records, anything else that could possibly or remotely link him to the tragedy playing out across his television. The scenes being reported by TV stations were aglow with flashing lights. Blankets over the dead. Ambulances came and went. Underground explosions were still going off in the streets.
He relaxed with his coffee in a chair by the fire, watching it unfold with deliberate calm. It had occurred to him over the past few hours that he didn’t need the report to the senate committee to do what he’d done. He never needed anyone’s blessing. His plan had gone through exactly as he’d wanted. Better, even.
They were already blaming the explosions and deaths on the Shifters. There was no one left to argue for them. He’d killed the underground Shifters, Mercer, Camille, Vincent—all the traitors. Braxton and his men were dead. The facility would simply shut down with no one there to run it.
Even if someone discovered the gas, they wouldn’t know where it came from. Harding had been right to make sure the final product was known only to a few. The lead scientist would know by now that he was responsible for this and keep his mouth shut. If not, well, Harding had already made sure that the mastermind finger was pointed directly at him.
The doorbell rang. He glanced at the clock. It was nine A.M. in the morning so the visitor was probably one of his wife’s friends. She was in the kitchen, and he let her answer it. Voices rang out, his wife protested, and Harding heard the distinct clicking of weapons and heavy footsteps up the stairs to his office.
XCEL agents. It was unusual, but he
was
the director of the local XCEL unit. He’d already been contacted with the details of the attack. They were simply here as protection or had pressing information for him.
He set down his coffee cup and stood to meet them. The first man through his office door was Roberts, followed by three fully armed XCEL agents. Harding was more than a little surprised to see his former right-hand man.
They’d come for him. It was much sooner than he’d expected, but not unexpected either. They could
try
to involve him in this, but they’d fail. Even if they suspected, there was no proof. This was America, after all. He was protected by the most powerful, bureaucratic, and slow-moving justice system in the world. This would be nothing more than a necessary glitch. All he had to do was keep his cool, and when they finally cleared him, it would be over. Except for the dead Shifters.
“What is the meaning of this, Agent Roberts?”
Roberts held up a white piece of paper. “I have a subpoena to search all your properties. Your home, your office, car, everything.”
Harding wanted to laugh. “And what are you looking for?”
“Your involvement in the deaths of fourteen humans and shapeshifters,” Roberts said firmly. “So far.”
Harding pointed to the television. “How could I possibly be involved with something like that? I haven’t left my home all night.”
Roberts didn’t budge, didn’t blink. He had a hell of a poker face, Harding admitted. Let them look. Harding asked, “Would you care for some coffee?”
“No,” Roberts said. Then he smiled. “How about you, Griffin?”
Harding frowned. It couldn’t be. He was dead.
“Not me.” Mercer walked into the room and stood next to Roberts. He was filthy from head to toe and grinning. “Thirsty, Cam?”
Harding felt his heart pound in his chest as the shapeshifter took her place next to Mercer. In his own house.
His
home.
“Not for coffee,” she said and batted her eyelashes. “But perhaps blood.”
He clenched his fists with a fury so strong it hurt. His own people had turned on him. Against their own kind. Didn’t they understand what was at stake here? Didn’t they realize that the whole human race was going to be diluted by these creatures and that the future of man was in mortal danger?
“It gets better,” Mercer said. “We know about the facility.”
“And the gas,” Camille added. “And the copycat attacks.”
He felt his expression falter despite his best efforts to stay cool. “You still have to prove it.”
She crossed her arms. “We also have Braxton. He’s been more than cooperative.”
Harding stared at Cam, feeling the pressure building. “You have no right to be here.”
“And yet,” she said, “here I am. Taking you into custody. Life’s a bitch.”
Anger exploded in his head, and he lunged for her throat. He stumbled forward when she vanished in a puff of black smoke. Two men grabbed him by the arms and threw him to the ground, face-first. Mercer was one of them and said, “Don’t give me a reason to shoot you, Harding. ’Cause I only need one.”
Harding felt a knee to his back and his hands pulled behind his back. He roared in rage.
Then Roberts said, “Director Harding, your services are no longer required. You are under arrest.”
 
Cam held her father’s hand in the sterile laboratory, watching his chest rise and fall. Her brother, Thaniel, sat on the opposite side, holding Dewey’s other hand.
And they waited to see if they were able to bring their father back from the dead. The transfusion had been performed. There was nothing else she could do now but hope. He’d opened his eyes once, and then closed them. Still, it was a very good sign.
It had been a grueling few days between recovering from the damage the gas had done to her, reuniting with her brother, fighting off the media, and being grilled by every government agency wanting to get in on the action. She was beyond tired, hadn’t slept in days, and yet, she was still thinking clearly.
Something had changed in her body, but she couldn’t figure out what. She was tougher now, healed faster, moved quicker. Every Shifter sense had grown stronger and more powerful. It was like she’d been given a booster shot by her own body. Not that she was complaining.
“Never thought I’d see you again,” Thaniel said quietly. “I meant to contact you, but I—” He stopped. “I’m sorry.”
She lifted her gaze from her father to her brother. He looked handsome with brown hair and blue eyes. He was dressed casually and wore a wedding ring. “No,
I’m
sorry. I didn’t listen to you. I didn’t want to get involved with the humans.”
Even as she said it, her chest tightened at the thought of one particular human. She hadn’t seen or spoken to Griffin in the past few days once he’d disappeared into the XCEL fraternity.

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