Unlikely

THIRTEEN

This time it happens quite suddenly, the surge of adrenaline, the searing burn in my muscles as they tear and re-form. The pain is deafening but I try to keep the image of water in my mind, the smell of it, the texture of it, the cool wetness.... and I am able, to some extent, to keep myself somewhat in control of the beast.

I watch as the guard's eyes widened in shock and I use his inattention to swat the gun away from my friend's head. It discharges but Mike is already moving down and away and the wrist that held the gun is crunching as the bones grind beneath my grip. Everything is happening too fast and my mind struggles to keep up with the beast's instinctive reactions. The crushed wrist seeps blood and the heady smell of salt and coppery sweetness is staggering, intellect is over ridden and I find myself tearing at the guard's throat while someone is beating on my shoulder.

"Stop it dammit! We don't have time for that shit!" Mike wrenches my arm back and forces me to confront him. He is angry, eyes squinted to slits. "Get ahold of yourself! That gun will have alerted someone. We have to go!"

I growl and sniff the air. I know he is right, the part of myself that knows friend from enemy, but the rest of me is fully engaged and there is no stopping the hunt. I pull free from his grasp and lope toward the back of the building. I sense two more bodies back there, their warmth and musky scent rolling off them in waves. I sense their fear too and that dark spice only pulls me in further. My control is slipping.

"Stop right there! I have a gun!" Another guard waves his weapon at me threateningly, but the movement only draws me forward like a cat to a piece of string. My peripheral vision dims and my eyes narrow their focus. Every detail directly in front of me stands out in stark relief. I can see the individual hairs of the guard's mutton chops. I watch a bead of sweat trickle down from his hairline, I can almost taste it's saltiness.

"No, stop I said!"

There is no sense of time slipping or of movement. One moment I am standing twenty feet from a man with a shaky gun hand and the next I am snuggling in close, nuzzling his pulse like a lover. I am overwhelmed, lost. I feel something akin to love and I lick his throat... then something bashes me in the head.

"Dammit Rince! I need you!"

Something in Mike's voice brings me back to myself. Clamping a massive paw around the warm throat, I blink and slowly turn to find Mike in a stand off. The other warm body wears a white lab coat and is holding the guard's dropped gun in one hand and a wooden box in the other. I shake myself to clear my head and think desperately of water.

"Both of you, just back away!" The lab coat is terrified, every part of him shaking. Fear radiates from him and the aroma is intoxicating, it is all I can do not to tackle him immediately. "I'll have no problem shooting! And no funny business, you won't be happy if I drop this box!"

I edge closer to the man, dragging the hapless guard along, though I have mostly forgotten him by this point. He is but a weight on my arm, all my attention is now riveted on the man in the lab coat. He carries a host of other scents on him, all tinged with the spicy tang of fear. It is a stew of fascinating information, and I move even as Mike yells for me to stop. I hear the gun go off, and I feel a punch to my shoulder. Everything is happening too quickly. I see the lab technician jerk in surprise, and box starts to slip from his hand but he won't let go of the gun. I close the space between us, a moth to the flame. The man's face is a sketch of surprise and horror. The box is falling....

I look from the man's face to focus on the inside of the box. Small round balls... a memory triggers and I understand now why the man's face is scrunched up like it is. Time's up... the balls are flowing out of the tipped box and the man has raised the gun to his own head. My eyes meet his and I use my last few seconds to spin and push against Mike's chest with all my strength. He hurtles backward....

We are in the car now and I am driving. It is awkward, because my long claws keep getting in the way. The lab technician is in the trunk with the guns. I don't worry about him giving any trouble, however, as he was wholly successful in avoiding the horror of mutation. Mike is in the back seat convulsing. I'd thrown him pretty far, just not far enough....balls roll. Three of them happened to wind up directly under him as his body slammed to the floor. We make it back to my warehouse somehow. I am pretty sure I collided with a few things along the way, the odd lamppost or parked car, but it couldn't be helped. My mind is a whirligig in a storm, spinning and spinning.... I can't focus. I know I was exposed to the elixir in the glass balls too.

All I can think is; Oh no, not again!