LA Banks Crimson Moon 02 Bite the Bullet

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the rest of the clan, too. They'd all been in a hot zone, each man and woman
that made it through is all cut up and has open wounds and lacerations."
"What are we dealing with?" Dr. Lutz shouted. "Enough with the cryptic
military speak!"
"Demon-infected Werewolf virus," Sasha said flatly. "You're looking at a
Preternatural Containment team, some of whom have wolf DNA fused with their
human DNA spirals to better hunt the new supernatural predator that poses a
security threat. One of our men went over the wall went full blown and
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disappeared in a hot zone. His grandfather was accidentally shot. The patient
has a different cellular structure part wolf in his DNA. Like me. Like a bunch
of the guys. Problem is, I was carrying contagion that my system is strong
enough to fight off and didn't know how seriously infected I was. But an
injured elderly man whose autoimmune system and everything else is going
haywire would go into shock from a transfusion from me had I known, trust me,
I wouldn't have put him at risk like that. What you're witnessing now is his
system trying to self-repair while also trying to adapt to contain and eject a
foreign viral agent. Does that clear it up?"
Stunned mute, the senior medical team from Tulane just looked at Sasha.
"You can't be serious," the chief of surgery finally said after a moment.
"Dead serious on the next full moon, or from the looks of things, before
that," Clarissa said, glimpsing into a mi-croscope.
"Doc, we can set up distortion monitors," Winters of-fered, glancing between
Sasha and Xavier Holland. "With the new equipment, we're able to get readings
off energy displacement by setting up a grid to then tell if something
physical left a heat trail entering or exiting a displacement band. That way
we can be on comm with Trudeau while she's hunting to tell her if something's
bearing down on her, and where it's likely to emerge from the unseen before it
does."
"That's right, Dr. Holland," Bradley said. "We can also devise a two-shot
projectile that will first collect a tainted blood and tissue sample as it
passes through the target and closes, then breaks off at the exit wound,
leaving the second part of the device with heavy tranquilizers and antitoxin
lodged inside the beast," he added, opening his fist to extend his fingers.
"Much like a multistaged rocket The second cylinder will detonate inside the
target using a small charge and will be filled with antitoxin and a
tranquilizer cocktail strong enough to drop a charging elephant... so Trudeau
can deliver remote range antitoxin, pick up the sample cylinder, and still
have a reasonable escape window."
"You are serious," Dr. Lutz murmured in awe.
"You've actually seen these beasts?" Dr. Sanders asked, her gaze quickly
jerking between Sasha, her team, and the three members from the Tulane staff.
"Yeah. Up close and personal," Woods said, pounding Fisher's fist. "So have
the rest of those guys who came in like dirty-faced Hell's Angels toting heavy
artillery. Those boys aren't overreacting; they were in the trenches with
Trudeau."
"In all my career, I prayed for a chance to work on some-thing groundbreaking,
something never before seen . .." Dr. Lutz said, pure passion brimming in his
eyes. "We all have."
"That's probably why you three were selected handpicked," Sasha said in a
weary tone.
"I prayed for it, too," Dr. Sanders said quietly. "I've been on my own
personal research quest to try to under-stand some of the mysterious events
that seem to happen here like nowhere else I've lived in my life. I've written
papers that I haven't been brave enough to publish ..."
"Well, be careful what you pray for, Doctor," Xavier Holland warned. "I
thought that, too, some twenty-five years or more ago. But you'll never be
able to post this in professional journals. There'll be no awards or
conference circuit. No peer recognition. Whatever you learn or help prevent
will be one of those great accomplishments that you'll have to take to your
grave, no different than the tombs of the unnamed soldiers who fought and died
so that we could have better lives ... because no one but those un-named souls
know the extent of their sacrifice. Are you still in, or do we need to pull
military rank and simply ruin your careers and lives if you mention this
project?"
"I'm a doctor and a scientist before all things," Dr. Lutz said. "I've waited
my entire life to know if there's more to our human, frail existence. I'm in."
The chief of surgery gave a skeptical nod. "Just to know that I saw it and my
eyes weren't playing tricks on me ... curiosity prevails."
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"A pair of steel gonads better prevail," Fisher said, shak-ing his head,
"because I'ma tell you you'd better pray that you never see one. Everything
theoretical goes out the win-dow. It's the kind of thing that will make a
grown man hope that the cavalry in the form of tanks rolling down Bourbon and
Canal Streets will come posthaste as backup, if you do."
"I'm in," Dr. Sanders said, lifting her chin. "I'm with Ira. We're talking
heretofore undiscovered species, hybrids of new species ... it's too fantastic
to begin to comprehend."
"Good," Holland said, "because we have a very short window to follow a very
old and unreliable recipe for creating antitoxin in an unsecured lab which
resulted in staff deaths before. Some of our methods will seem peculiar and
even superstitious, but one of the first things we'll need to do is secure the
work area against Vampire thefts."
The three doctors from the Tulane staff just stared at each other, hang-jawed.
~
It had been a bullshit ruse but a necessary one. Hunter dragged himself
through the demon door, exhausted from the spent energy needed to propel
himself to the other side of it without his amulet. He hit the floor with a
thud, having jettisoned himself back to the place he'd last held the image of
Sasha in his mind. Almost too weak to lift his head he listened to the sounds
of daytime street activ-ity through the wooden floorboards.
Car horns, a fat cockroach waddling between dust bun-nies across the room. A
family of squirrels had taken up residence between the eaves. Pigeons were
cooing and screwing somewhere nearby. Voices, human outside. Crack dealers
never gave it a rest. Hunter placed his hands on the floor to push himself
upright and froze, star-ing at a clawed fist.
Panic ripped through him as he assessed his physical condition. The sun was
up, the moon long gone, he was out of the Shadow land pathways and had gotten
out of the de-mon doors without being maimed... and he was still a wolf? Worse
than wolf, he was something terrible in be-tween with a man's forearm
completely covered in the thick coat of a Shadow Wolf hands, not wolf paws! He [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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