The sounds of confusion faded away as Ian sprinted down the corridor, slipping the radio into a jacket pocket. The unarmed guard raced on ahead of him, glancing over his shoulder to see the Mancunian in pursuit. Even in the unlit darkness of the corridor, the panic was evident as he widened his stride.

  Ian gritted his teeth and picked up the pace.

  I can’t let him get the word to the other guards! Generator or not…

  It would be a massacre if they came in guns blazing.

  In the murk, another pair of doors swam into view.

  Don’t be another guard…

  The escapee barged through the doors, and seconds later Ian charged in after him.

  A pair of L-shaped shelf units greeted him on his flanks. To Ian’s right, the guard had skidded round into the shadow of one of those units. In the darkness, a tiny red light glowed.

  Ian did not take any chances, flinging himself round the shelves and straight into the guard with a heavy clang. A cry rang out as something clattered on the floor. Ian didn’t have a chance to think, as a fist flew by his head. Ian’s hand snapped up to crack on something hard. The guard recoiled and Ian sent another fist flying, letting his knuckles whip his foe’s head round with another crack.

  Either got to drag him back or knock him out now!

  As the guard stumbled round sideways, Ian tossed aside the Sten and grabbed hold of the man’s shoulders. His lips started to twist, “Get of- “

  Ian whacked the guard’s head against the shelves, hard. His cry silenced; the guard could only groan as he slumped in the Merryhunter’s grasp.

  “I’ll drag you out of here if I have to!” Ian hissed, his muscles already tensing for another blow. “Just give it up!”

  The guard groggily shook his head, “I can’t!”

  “Why the hell not?!”

  At this point Ian’s night vision was beginning to kick in, his eyes focusing on a man who was only just his age. Brown eyes widened, “T-They’ll kill me!”

  Ian felt his rage fade away, “What?”

  The guard shakily brushed back short brown hair, “I’m just a conscript! If I let you get away, they'll kill me! Game over man!”

  A conscript? Aren’t they supposed to be in the army-

  “Calm down!” Ian growled with a shake of his head, “Why would they conscript you?”

  Jack’s voice squawked, “Ian! You got him?!”

  With both eyes locked on the guard, Ian slipped out of the radio. “I’ve got him. Everyone headed out?”

  “A few are but Carlson’s barely listening.” He uttered back.

  “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  He lowered the radio, frowning at the guard. “Why?”

  He visibly gulped, “T-They’re doing experiments.”

  A chill ran down Ian’s neck as he processed the words, who would even be doing any in a warehouse, “Experiments?”

  “Y-Yeah! But I don’t know what, I just k- “

  Something squeaked, and voices began to rise. Ian’s head snapped back round to the door they had just come through, but it sat motionless.

  Part of him wanted to knock the guard out now, but figuring that would just make more noise, he shoved the guard down. “Quiet.” He whispered. Footsteps began to echo from beyond the shelves, and with narrowed eyes he peered through to see the room was smaller than expected. Another set of shelving units identical to the one he hid behind were positioned on the other end of the room, where a selection of wooden crates was intermingled with clean metal containers. If it wasn’t for the fact that he knew he was inside a warehouse, it would almost mirror that of a dark street.

  Only a single bulb hung over the centre of the room, fixed to a large tripod. Must be battery powered.

  Two shadowy shapes drifted in the darkness.

  “How much longer?” someone growled, his voice rumbling across the room.

  Just at the corner of his eye, the guard seemed to freeze.

  “The work will take as long as it must.” came the reply, a voice with a hint of a German accent, emotionless and calm. “I can assure you however, it should not take too much longer. We are getting close to developing a suitable vector.”

  Another growl came out of the shadows, almost like some rabid dog. “Given how often you fuck something up when you rush, I guess I’ll take it. We gave you a taste of that when we kicked your asses.”

  A frown formed on Ian’s lips, Vector? What are they on about? He leaned to the side, trying to focus on those shadows.

  “Of course.” The German replied, “Project Chimera wasn’t entirely an overwhelming success.”

  The other figure huffed, “You hit the jackpot and got yourselves ripped to pieces more like.”

  Project Chimera? What?

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  At last, a man of modest build emerged, dressed in a crisp and clean lab coat that shined in the light of the bulb. The coat extended down to partially cover a pair of black trousers and hid a featureless tie hung around his neck. Short grey hair finished the look, overtopping a weathered face and eyes that seemed to be hidden further back. It was almost as if his own skull was working to conceal that one feature, aided by a pair of black-rimmed glasses to give him an even more skeletal look.

  “Crude.” He declared, “But inconveniently accurate. Of course, events have not swung much in your favour.” He turned towards the second shadow. “Am I wrong?”

  The shadow seemed to bulge up, “I’m not him.” he snarled, “So you can forget about those chats of yours.”

  With those words, he finally stepped out into the light.

  Ian stiffened immediately, a hand instinctively reaching out for the discarded SMG. It’s true…

  The figure that had emerged wore an unusual mix of attire. Black leather shorts were paired with a green t-shirt and a dark grey gillet, and just poking out over his shoulders, he could make out the hilt of a sword and the stock of a rifle.

  But he wasn’t human.

  Towering above the German, a layer of grey fur covered him from head to toe with the odd splatter of brown and black breaking up his features. Digitigrade legs, possessing that second, backwards knee, dominated his lower half, ending in a pair of inhuman canine feet. A tail hung limply from his rear, barely twitching.

  But then was the head. Not human, not Feral. No… a wolfen head seamlessly attached to a humanoid body. Black hair that wouldn't be out of place on a human covered the top of his head and large ice-cold eyes were locked onto the human, gazing down a short muzzle.

  Nyúlfur…

  A glint seemed to flash across the Nyúlfur’s eye. “Just gives me another reason not to like you. More reasons to kill you. I don't care.”

  The German adjusted his glasses, “In that regard, I cannot deny there is a point there. But what do you want me to say?” he questioned, voice chilling the air, “Apologise for the purge? Say that you are superior to us?”

  The Nyúlfur took one step closer, bringing himself within a few inches of the man, his full height becoming apparent as he looked down upon him. He had to be at least a foot taller than the human, whilst his arms – whilst lean – seemed strong enough to snap him like a twig.

  Ian had seen how strong a Nyúlfur was once. If he wanted to kill the human right now, very little could stop him.

  He leaned forward, sharp canine teeth slipping into view. “Oh, you don’t need to say anything. It’s just a reminder, not that ‘sorry’ is going to make any difference.” He shoved a finger into the scientist’s chest. “And you’re right. We are superior.”

  Ian stifled a growl of his own, We’ll see about that.

  Even Ed might have been intimidated to back down, at least with this Nyúlfur right in his face. But the scientist didn’t even flinch, staring him down. “But you still need us, whilst your own help is merely beneficial to us.” He replied with a hint of amusement rising in his tone.

  The Nyúlfur glared at him with his jaw clenched. Ian could already imagine the gears working away, the werewolf trying to decide whether to kill the man or not.

  Still shooting daggers at the scientist, he finally stepped away. “Just consider yourselves lucky we didn’t wipe you out.”

  The scientist merely cocked his head, “Understood.”

  “We… we need to get out…”

  Ian glanced round at the guard, shivering as he peered through the shelves. “Not yet.” Ian whispered, eyeing the distance towards the door they came through. We could run…

  Indeed, part of him begged him to get out now. Tell the scavengers to rush back down the tunnel and get away from the damned place. But another part was staggered by the turn of events. He half expected the Nyúlfur to at least be knocking the man to the ground. But not this…

  He needed to know more. It wasn’t just about him anymore; it was anyone else who came sneaking inside or encountering this group in the future. He also didn’t have any idea what their aims were… experiments? Besides…

  He glanced at the watch strapped around his wrist. They still had time. And even if he tried to run now, the Nyúlfur and the scientist might hear him. Better to wait until they moved on.

  The Nyúlfur huffed, arms crossed tight. “My people brought in some more for your ‘tests’. Why so many anyway? And why this dump when we could do the same in Cascadia?”

  Ian blinked, Cascadia? He questioned, They came from that far? It was a name that was all too familiar to most humans in the post-outbreak world. Some nations were still around, but Cascadia was a nation born after the outbreak. It rose from the remains of Canada’s British Columbia, specifically the city of Victoria. Like Manchester, it was able to survive the Outbreak by evading the Ferals, but unlike Manchester, between its location and resources, it emerged as the most powerful city in the world.

  Even as its companion city, Vancouver, burnt to the ground overnight. Thousands died in the flames. Or were slaughtered by Ferals, humans and Nyúlfur alike. Only a few thousand escaped to Victoria, but since then it’s started to reach back into the Pacific Northwest, creating a new nation on the rubble of the old.

  Cascadia.

  “For the sake of secrecy and efficiency.” Replied the scientist, dragging Ian’s attention back out. “Operating near Victoria and Vancouver may seem easier based on location, however, the fact that Victoria is a stable city-state makes the retrieval of subjects more complicated. We don’t need impromptu attention from the Guard.”

  He spread his arms out as if to highlight the entire room. “Here, the city is barely surviving. The Ferals have the means to easily overwhelm the defenders who are unable to deal with the ‘common matters’ inside their walls.”

  He leaned forward slightly, back still turned towards Ian. “Hundreds, potentially thousands of subjects are in this city, abandoned and alone. Essentially, no one notices that a subject is gone.”

  Ian’s fingers finally grasped the SMG, the urge just to open fire suddenly rearing up the back of his head before common sense stopped that. Regardless, as he clenched his free hand, he already knew what the scientist was talking about.

  People…

  “Whilst in Victoria,” the Nyúlfur mused, uncrossing his arms, “the higher-ups would start noticing.”

  “Precisely.” Replied the scientist, with a hint of warmth that only seemed to send a deeper chill down Ian’s spine. He snapped his head from side to side, On second thought… I’ve heard enough. I’ve got to warn the others!

  Slowly, he began to back up. The guard remained crouched behind the shelves; beady eyes fixated on the two figureheads.

  “We can test the new strains on these subjects. Once we find one that is suitable, we can take the Elevation Initiative to its next stage.”

  Come on!

  Ian sharply tapped the guard’s shoulder. As the guard’s head swivelled to him, he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, glaring at the petrified man.

  “Just find it soon. Then we can get clear of this death trap.” The Nyúlfur growled.

  The guard’s mouth silently moved, questioning Ian’s actions. Narrowing his eyes, Ian jabbed at the doors again. This time, the memo stuck and the guard began to rise to his feet.

  “Then I believe it is time put this plan into action.”

  Ian turned away, a tiny flick of his eyes catching the scientist raising his hand upwards.

  His eyes settled back onto the doors as he crept towards them. He just had to make sure he didn’t make a squeak.

  “Operator. Turn on the backup.”

  Back…

  Something flashed, a near-burning white light filling his vision. Ian stuttered to a halt, biting down on his tongue. What the hell!? Jeb sho-

  He froze, Back up.

  Something buzzed behind him. “Boss, cameras are back up. I see the apes in there!”

  Generator!

  “Then what’re you waiting for!” The Nyúlfur barked, Ian’s ears ringing, “Get them in there!”

  His vision began to clear, but Ian’s limbs already started to wobble. What was once muscle was now almost like jelly as the revelation flashed across his eyes.

  It’s a trap!

  “And did you think I couldn’t see you hiding here?”

  The jelly hardened into concrete.

  Ian spun round, where on the other side of the shelves, leaning in with a vicious pearly smile, was none other than the Nyúlfur. Blue eyes glinted with devilish delight. “Or hear you rather, typical ape.”