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“Not for us,” I said.
“Probably,” he shrugged. “But we don’t know anything for sure. Wait a couple hours for us to sequence the formula and run some tests. Then we can take more if we need it.”
“Can’t wait,” I said, standing up.
“I’ll bet there’s some elixir in the fridge,” April said. “Just check everything to make sure you know what you’re drinking.”
I closed my eyes, feeling the cold breeze from the fridge as the fan whirred on. I hadn’t realized how warm it had gotten. I squinted at the rows of bottles. The fridge was larger and deeper than I expected, built into the wall. Hundreds of samples, each marked with a handwritten label. Names, dates, all unfamiliar to me. Going back decades.
What was he trying to do?
One shelf had more space, with each specimen displayed alone in a wooden block, with a metal label, like a trophy. I scanned them until I saw a name I recognized.Patton. My grandfather’s blood. A token, or a memory?
There was also a row of slides, each with one drop of blood, something like the database Augustine had for every citizen, but most of these had the same names on them. Richard, and Damien.
The beakers on the bottom shelf had yellow tape on them, with initials and numbers scrawled in bold marker. Trial MB1~73.
I started feeling dizzy, and my eyes darted to a row of clear elixir, sparkling blue. I snatched it up and drank half before stopping myself. My pulse spiked and my vision sharpened. My bracelet beeped but I covered it with my palm. I didn’t need to be nagged. I was getting a feel for how much I could handle, before reality started washing away around me.
I was about to turn away when I spotted something on the top shelf. It looked like a jar of olives that had gone bad. I reached for it and pulled it forward, but jerked when I realized what it contained. It was a jar of eyeballs. They spun slowly, bobbing in the murky solution, until one seemed to look right at me. And it was achingly familiar. I turned it over to read the label, but all I found was a handwritten note.
Your sister is looking for you, Emily.
I dropped the jar.
The sudden adrenaline and blood loss had made me shaky, and overreactive. I cursed as the jar shattered, splashing my boots with sticky fluid. The eyeballs bounced like gumdrops, rolling under the counters and into the corners.
“Seriously?” April frowned at me, her gloved hands carefully holding an eyedropper half-full of blood. She was mixing it into half a dozen petri dishes with the base serum.
“Sorry,” I said. “I’ll get it.” I found a closet with a mop and began soaking up the blood and broken glass, biting back tears. Zane helped, though he looked disgusted as he picked up the eyeballs one by one. I couldn’t bear to look at them. I tried to forget what I’d seen, hoping I’d just made it up. But I’d recognize Loralie’s bright blue pupil anywhere; flaked with amber and the unique star-shaped iris. And the note was confirmation. I realized it was still crumpled in my hand, in a tight fist.
I wanted to break down and cry, but the elixir in my veins turned all my emotions into blinding rage; a thin, cutting edge. My blood simmered, as my brain started working again. He’d known I’d be here. But who? The handwriting seemed to match everything else in the lab, so I took a deep breath and held it in. Maybe this was just a cruel joke; the last one King Richard would ever play on me. He must have set this up earlier, before Skormhead. Whatever he was planning, I’d put an end to it.
Zane was halfway through mopping when I realized the viscous liquid was moving slowly under the fridge. Something tickled the back of my memory. For a moment, my vision flickered. The fridge disappeared and I could see a dark passage in its place.
I felt around the side of the fridge, rocking it back and forward.
“Hey now, haven’t you done enough damage?” Zane asked.
“Help me with this,” I grunted. I tugged harder, gritting my teeth. But Zane just reached past me, feeling around the edges where the fridge met the wall, until he pressed something loose I couldn’t see and the whole fridge snapped open. I pushed it aside like a door.
“How’d you know that was there?” he asked. I shrugged, nodding to the now-uncovered drain.
“Woah,” April said, looking up at us behind her lab glasses. “Asecretsecret laboratory? What if it’s booby-trapped?”
“Why would it be… nevermind,” Zane said. “Why don’t you go first?” The room looked almost like a mirror of the front one, but much older, and less maintained. The walls were covered with high racks and shelves, another desk and computer, and a large screen for projecting images. A bulletin board held faded photographs and an early sketch of the compound system, as well as architectural plans for the citadel. There was even a drawing of the furnace in Skormhead.
“This must be one of the oldest buildings,” Zane said, nodding to the small window in the back that was painted over with black paint. “Before the ash. Kind of amazing one man built all this, when he couldn’t even handle the sunlight.”
“Yeah,” I frowned. “Amazing.”
Zane found the light switch and jumped back away from a rack of shelves as the lights flickered on, illuminating the large glass jars that contained all manner of strange specimens.
“Warped fetuses,” he muttered. “But they’re not all human.”
I checked the faded labels. Some of them were organized by a numbered system, but an older shelf was unmarked and dusty. Half-grown mutids, that had no right to exist, a blend of man and beast. Some had hair and fangs, no doubt slagpaw precursors. But there were winged creatures, like pale little bats, with big fangs, ears and teeth. And some other unnatural abominations with twisted bones, huge eyes, scales and fins like aquatic creatures. Dust covered some of the jars completely, but I wasn’t curious enough to wipe it off with my sleeve. I looked nervously at the cobwebs stretching between the shelves and saw something dark and furry scuttle out of view.
“Cool, cool,” Zane said, backing away. “I’m going to go help April. You alright in here alone? I wouldn’t be.”
