“So, like, he’s a new one?”
When Ellis says that I wonder if this is where the mutants attacking the city are coming from. If they’re not naturally occurring, but someone is making them, here in this lab.
I look at Ellis and swallow. Someone is making mutants, and it looks very much like Maestro’s setup for his own.
Ellis’s brow furrows as his gaze meets mine, and I look away quickly, hating that I have to consider it as a possibility. I’m not in a headspace to process what any of it means. Maybe right now I don’t have to be, and I can just collect evidence and think about the larger implications of it later.
“Greg, come on, boss said he wasn’t paying for any overtime,” a voice further down the hall calls out, and we both look up immediately.
The tank wobbles uncertainly as I try to hide behind it, calling more attention to us as a pair of footsteps approach. He stops, just at the edge of visibility in the dim glow of the building, light glinting off a plastic laminated employee ID badge clipped to his shirt.
He glares at us over his clipboard. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
I wouldn’t call it my best thought necessarily, but it is my first thought to shove the tank a second time.
The man yells and seems caught between trying to steady the tank and jumping out of its way. His hesitation spares him from getting crushed by the tank as it tips over and crashes on the ground, shattering on impact. Pieces of glass and gallons of the strange liquid explode through the room as the mutant inside falls to the ground.
The room fills with a blaring alarm and red strobing light.
I watch, just barely able to see the webbed mutant start to stir, growling as he pushes up onto his elbows and pulls the IVs out of his arms. With each new one out, he starts moving a little faster, snarling even more.
“Yikes, ok, nope, nope,” Ellis says, breaking me from my stare. He grabs my hand and nearly dislocates my shoulder pulling me back, and as soon as I’m running with him we’re leaving the way we came in.
We’re out through the door in a heartbeat, tearing down the hallways. I don’t remember the way out, but soon that’s the least of our problems. We don’t even turn one corner before I slip off the narrow ledges we spent all that time tiptoeing across, and land right in the water. All that slushy snow runoff cushions my fall, instantly soaking through most of my clothes, but my elbow still hits the bottom hard.
This is the worst cold plunge I’ve ever done. Not to mention the grossest.
But there isn’t really time to freak out over landing in the water and appreciate just how truly awful this is. I try to climb back up onto one of the side ledges, slipping almost immediately.
A loud metal bang ricochets through the tunnels, followed by a monstrous roar.
Ellis grabs my hand, and we run down the middle of the tunnels, crashing through the water. The sound is thunderous. The world feels like it’s tumbling through a washing machine. It’s endless, zigzagging, diving around every turn and corner there is, each step plunging again into the knee-deep, freezing, gray slush.
We duck around a corner, hitting a dead end where trash gathers around a grate, and Ellis stops me, tugging me to crouch down against the wall with him. My heart is hammering in my chest, I’m both overheated and freezing at the same time.
Every little sound echoes off the brick, every drop, every movement in the water, every breath. The water around us quickly stills, but not quite enough to conceal our position as the low growl of the escaped mutant meets us.
My throat is tight with panic. I’m sure I’m breathing too loud, even as my lungs are pained trying to catch my breath and not breathe too much at the same time.
Ellis’s hand on my shoulder gives a little squeeze as we wait, and when the moment feels like it will never end, finally the footsteps recede into a different pathway, low snarling growls disappearing. Suddenly I’m grateful for what a twisty maze the city storm drains are.
Now, the only thing colder than being soaked in icy drainage and ooze is the thought of getting out of it to freeze to death while walking back home.
Somehow, the thought of confronting Clayton about making our breakup official is worse. I might just stay in the waterways forever.
11
Ellis
It’s a freezing, skin-searing, soaked fifteen minutes of flying, but it’s the fastest way to get Lacey back to her apartment. We land on her balcony, and she slips out of my arms. The heat of her body being pressed to mine evaporates in an instant.
I want to make sure she’s ok—that was a much more dire situation that either of us expected to get into tonight. The most important thing right now is getting warm and dry and clean.
I follow her in, tucking my wings close enough to fit through the doorway, sliding the balcony door shut behind us. It’s a relief to step inside somewhere warm. Despite all that wind pressure, we’re both still pretty drenched.
Neither of us bothers to turn on any of the lights. It might attract attention and let someone know we’re here.
“And you’re sure we don’t need to worry about Steel dropping by?” I ask quietly, hating that I have to invoke the thought of him. After the last time, better safe than sorry.
