Aspen heard the sound of elevator doors opening, followed by footsteps on linoleum. A man’s voice sounded above her, “Your coat, sir.”
“Yes, of course. Thank you. Can you find me some tissues, please?” The old man sneezed repeatedly as he slipped a hand inside his coat pocket.
Aspen quickly hopped aboard, hoping he would take care not to squeeze her too tightly. She was just as quickly deposited into a different pocket—a suit pocket, she guessed. His body heat radiated through the fabric like an electric blanket.
“Here you go, sir. We’ll be right outside if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Prestwick.”
She heard a door close, a desk drawer open, a TV switched on. She recognized the voice of a CNN news anchor. The old man walked across the room, closed another door, and turned on the overhead fan. “This is the only room that’s private. We don’t have much time,” he whispered, reaching into his pocket. She hopped into his hand once again. He withdrew her and gently deposited her onto the floor. “Shift now, please, so we can talk.”
She shifted to human form and stood before him, face to face. They were inside a modest-looking bathroom.
His Charlie Chaplin hat, cloud-gray moustache, soft wrinkles, and intelligent blue eyes lent him a distinguished look. “You’re a Myriad,” he said with a broad smile that reached the crow’s feet around the outer corners of his eyes. “My goodness. I never thought I’d see the day.” He removed a white glove and extended his hand. “Felix.”
“Aspen.” When their hands connected, she saw him as a massive lion with a thick dark mane. Much larger than Tora’s lioness, he circled her proudly, muscles rippling with every stride. He sized her up with bright yellow eyes—the truest sign of a Myriad.
“Felix,” she said aloud, stepping back. She remembered the story Beckett had shared about Great-grandpa Amos’s best friend, who also went by the name Felix. But that was impossible. That would make Felix over a century old. This man couldn’t be more than seventy. “You wouldn’t be Amos’s friend, by any chance?”
His eyes lit up. “Like a brother to me.” The old man regarded her warily as he replaced the white glove on his hand. “How do you know of Amos?”
“He adopted Henry, that little boy you saved. Henry was Beckett’s great-grandfather. Beckett and his son are…” She paused, trying to find the right words. “Well, they’re part of my family now.”
Felix smiled even more broadly. “I have so many questions, but we must use our time wisely.”
“I was told you go by a different name.”
The old man shook his head and lowered his eyes. “Forced upon me after my capture. The government’s twisted sense of humor, I’m afraid.”
At least she wouldn’t have to go looking for the old man’s parents now. One less thing to do. “If you’re Amos’s friend, that must make you, like”—she tried to do the math in her head but failed—“really old.”
He laughed quietly. “A hundred and twenty-eight last month. Myriads are blessed—or cursed, depending on how you look at it—with an unusually long lifespan. The government led me to believe I was the only Myriad left. The others are in stasis—”
“There are others?”
“Used to be eight of us. When I refused to do the government’s bidding…” He cleared his throat with tears in his eyes. “Four left now. As long as I do what they ask of me, they’re kept in stasis. If I refuse to cooperate, they die. And any hope for Shrouds surviving this war dies with them.”
“Are you sure they’re still alive?” she asked, feeling sorry for the old man and the agonizing predicament he’d been faced with all these years.
“They’re kept here, five floors below us. The SEA allows me to look in on them once every month.” He withdrew a gold pocket watch, flipped it open, and checked the time. “My next visit takes place in an hour.”
Her new mission became clear. She had no idea how they’d pull it off, but of one thing she was sure: she wasn’t leaving until every last Myriad was freed. She set a hand on his arm. “I think it’s time we rescued your friends.”
“Family,” he corrected her. “We share a bond deeper than any I’ve ever known.” He slapped his pocket watch shut, adjusted his grip on the cane, and regarded her. “I have a plan. But first, I need to know what your gifts are.”
“Afraid I come up short in that department.” She told him about the vaccine she’d received as a kid.
He removed his white glove once again. “Give me your hand. I’ll tell you what gifts you possess.”
* * *
Tora was the last to return to chamber one. She deactivated her earbud and stepped through the closet.
Skye glanced up from the laptop screen. “I’ve been monitoring the cameras like you taught me. Still no sign of the soldiers,” she reported.
“Where are the newborns?” No longer curled up together on the bed, they were nowhere to be seen.
Skye closed the laptop and set it on the bed. “I thought they were with you,” she said, standing.
Tora felt every drop of blood drain from her face. Did the SEA steal the newborns from right under their noses? How was that even possible?
Skye gave her an elbow in the ribs. “Kidding. Jeez, lighten up. They’re right behind you.”
She turned to find eight pairs of baby animal eyes staring up at her. Like stealthy little ninjas, they had somehow gotten around her without her seeing them. They were now slightly larger and more developed. They all looked healthy and strong.
“You’re too easy.” Skye laughed. “Aspen wouldn’t have fallen for that.”
Feeling her competitive nature flare up, Tora raised an eyebrow.
“She’s too smart.” The girl caught herself and looked sheepishly at Tora. “What I meant to say is, you’re book-smart, but Aspen’s street-smart.”
“Nice save.” Tora draped an arm around her. “And you’re a combination of both.” She looked down at her watch as it vibrated furiously on her wrist. A high-pitched shriek soon followed that reverberated through her bones. She locked eyes with Skye, and they both tapped their watches to silence the alarms.
“Soldiers have breached the cabin entrance,” Tora said.
Studying her watch face, Skye dismissed the alert and brought up the camera in that section of the tunnels. “They’re in the tunnels now, on foot.”
* * *
Felix took a step back, his blue eyes wide with wonder. “You possess the rarest of any gift bestowed to a Myriad.”
“The ability to eat seven doughnuts in one sitting?” she joked.
He just stared at her.
“Okay, eight. But that was just once.”
“Manipulation of time,” he said, shaking his head as if to bring himself back to reality.
“Back to the Future is my favorite movie.” She waited for him to share what her gift really was. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Are you saying I have my own personal remote control over time? That I can rewind and fast-forward at will?”
“You can’t go backward. No one can. But you can move forward in time and then return to the present, which, I must say, is most useful in our present circumstance.”
She failed to see how such a gift could benefit them in rescuing the four remaining Myriads. “Even if I knew how to make that work—which I don’t, by the way—how does that help us?”
“By looking forward, we can work backward,” he said with a wink.
“Riddles hurt my brain.”
He cast his gaze to the floor and thought for a moment. “The very second we make a plan, you’ll move forward into the future to check the results of that plan. If you find failure, then we’ll adjust the plan accordingly. You’ll move forward into the future once again, and so on and so forth. We’ll keep at it until you confirm our ultimate success. By using this simple process of elimination, we’ll know which plan to implement.”
Simple was hardly the word that came to Aspen’s mind. Just thinking about time travel was giving her a headache. But she was willing to try just about anything if it meant saving the lives of Felix and the other Myriads. “How do I get this time travel thing to work?”
“That’s the easy part.”
“I beg to differ.”
“The hard part will be coming up with a plan that works. We won’t be able to talk once we leave this room, so we’ll need to do this here.”
Doing her best to move past the seemingly insurmountable obstacle of time travel, she pitched her idea. “I’ll travel in your pocket as a mouse. You’ll release me wherever the others are being kept. Once you and your prison guards leave, I’ll shift into human form, get each Myriad out from stasis—however that’s done—and go find you. Then we’ll all work together to get our asses out of here and live happily ever after.”
“Well done. Succinct and to the point,” he said, glancing at his watch. “Now for the easy part.”
Aspen realized she was about to put her faith in a Shroud she knew nothing about. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and found herself craving a Butterfinger. King-size. She sighed. “Tell me what to do.”
* * *
Tora led Skye and the newborns into the main room of chamber one. The entire Alpha Genesis team was seated around the fire, drinking coffee. “The tunnels have been breached,” she announced.
“Showtime,” Tony said, driving his fist into the palm of his hand.
Oscar stood from the massive circular sofa and pierced Tora with the unyielding gaze of an alpha. “Bring up video surveillance,” he said, his voice calm, his demeanor relaxed but alert. “Let’s get a good look at these soldiers, see what we’re up against.”
Tora nodded, wishing Aspen wasn’t so far away right now. She tapped her watch to raise the television screen from the floor, zoomed in on the soldiers, and counted them. Four.
Despite the labyrinth of tunnels with endless twists, turns, and forks from which to choose, the soldiers were steadily making their way toward chamber one with alarming speed and navigational accuracy. Armed with assault rifles, they were using weapon-mounted flashlights to illuminate the tunnels. But what made Tora’s heart beat double-time were the fully encapsulated Level A personal protective suits they were wearing. Each suit was equipped with a self-contained breathing apparatus. She knew from her hazmat training that Level A suits offered the greatest protection from toxins.
“We’ve been invaded by yellow space men,” Hank said, squinting.
Skye stepped closer to the screen. “Those canisters they’re carrying have biohazard symbols on them.” She looked to Tora. “That’s bad, right?”
“Great. They’ve graduated from bullets to chemical warfare.” Hank nervously fidgeted with the ball cap in his lap. “How are we supposed to defend ourselves against that?”
“We have Level A PPE suits with respirators in chamber five.” Tora kicked herself for not thinking of them earlier. PPEs should have been stocked in every chamber. “There’s enough for everyone here.”
Oscar set his hands on his hips. “Do all the chambers in the sanctuary share the same air filtration system?”
She shook her head. “No, but the tunnels do. We’d have to go through each chamber in numerical order to get to chamber five,” she reminded them.
Skye was still studying the screen intently. “If the soldiers release whatever they have in those canisters while we’re traveling between chambers, we’re all goners for sure.”
Oscar cast his eyes to the floor in thought. “I guess we have some decisions to make,” he said finally, looking up. “We’ll make them as a family. Everyone’s vote counts.”
The newborns were sitting in rapt attention, their eyes on Oscar, as if waiting for him to go on.
“Option one: we stay put, do nothing, and hope the soldiers aren’t successful in their attempt to break in. Option two: we put a little distance between us and them and relocate to chamber two now, before they get any closer. Option three: some of us go to chamber five, get the gear, and double back here.” Oscar looked around at the group. “Those are the three options that give us the best chance for survival. Let’s vote. Those in favor of option one, raise your—”
“There’s a fourth option,” Tony interrupted. “Some of us shift and take out the soldiers in the tunnels before they break into chamber one and launch their chemical attack. Like Aspen wants, I’ll try not to kill anyone.” He shrugged. “But I may not have much of a choice.”
“That’s a suicide mission,” Oscar said firmly, the note of reprimand clear. “I will not send anyone on a suicide mission.”
“You don’t have to,” Tony said. “I volunteer.” He looked at Tora. “If you cut the lights in the tunnels so the soldiers can’t see me coming, I’ll take out as many as I can.”
Miller, Oscar’s second-in-command, set a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “I’ll go with him, boss.”
Each member of Oscar’s pack stepped forward. “We’ll all go, boss,” Beckett said.
“You know I’d never send you out there.” Oscar scowled. “Not like this.”
Miller nodded. “I know you’d never send us. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.”
He and Oscar locked eyes.
“Look around, boss. Makes the most sense for us to go,” Miller said. “This is a job for the pack.”
“Then I go, too,” Oscar said, standing up straighter.
“You can’t.” Skye came up beside Oscar and hugged his arm. “We need you here.”
“She’s right, boss. We’re willing to do whatever’s necessary to protect you, the newborns, and everyone else here. This is the only shot our people have for any hope of a future.”
Tora hated to admit it, but Miller was right. It had to be done. Oscar knew it, too. She could see it in his eyes. But she could also see the agony there. He would never send his own pack on a suicide mission. She recognized the dilemma for what it was. He’d rather die than watch his pack sacrifice themselves.
“We don’t have much time,” she said, stepping between Oscar and his men. “If you’re going to do this, you need to do it now.” She glanced at the video feed on the screen. The soldiers were making steady progress. “Four of you, Team One, leave through the front entrance—the door you came in when you first arrived. The other four, Team Two, you leave through the back. I’ll monitor your progress on the screen and guide you through the tunnels. Since you won’t have your earbuds once you shift, I’ll lead you with the lights. It’ll be subtle, so you’ll have to pay attention. I’ll also cut the lights along the way to give you cover.”
“Copy that,” the pack said in unison.
“You don’t take orders from Tora.” Oscar tore off the Spider-Man earmuffs and threw them across the room. They struck the rock wall with such force that they snapped in half. “You take orders from me.” He stepped forward, almost nose to nose with Miller. “This plan stops here. Now.”
Miller held his ground. He met Oscar’s gaze with equal ferocity. “We’re not your pack anymore. This is my pack now. I’m in charge. That”—he pointed to the newborns and the rest of Alpha Genesis behind Oscar—“that’s your pack. You’re their leader now. So lead them.”
All pack members exchanged eye contact and gave almost imperceptible nods. They waited as Beckett hugged his son, Liam, one last time. Then, under the direction of their new alpha, the pack shifted in the blink of an eye. Miller led Rivera, Derby, and Barnes to the front door of chamber one. Beckett, Rivera, Kennedy, and Malenko trotted off toward the door in Aspen’s bedroom closet.
With tears in his eyes, Oscar watched them disappear.
“Where do you want me?” Tony asked, turning to Tora.
“I’m sending you out the front door, ahead of Team One. You’re our first line of defense.”
“First line of defense, huh? I like that.” He smiled proudly. “Hey, when Aspen gets back, tell her I know she’ll make one hell of a leader. She was my best recruit at the academy.” With that, he shifted into a tiger and bounded off to join Team One.
Eight wolves and one tiger. Working together, Tora predicted they would do some serious damage.