Foxfire
After sunset, the temperature drops quickly. I wish I had thought to pick up some food, more than just granola bars.
Something vibrates, and I startle. My phone is off to save the battery from draining in the low service area. My mom holds out hers.
“It’s Tank.”
I sigh but accept it. The fact that she can even get cell service up here is a minor miracle.
“What do you want?”
“Where are you?”
“My mom already told you that, didn’t she? You have a good nose. You figure it out. On second thought,” I add hastily, “don’t try. I don’t want to see you.”
“Are you still planning to break in?”
“My dad might be in there. Or, I don’t know, he might not be. He might be dead. I’m not naive. I just want answers.”
“I’m going to get them for you. In an hour, I’m breaking into the compound.”
I clutch the phone. “You are?”
“Yeah, we have a plan. I’m with another shifter, a hacker. He knows how to get into their files. I’m going in and standing guard while he hacks their system. I’ll look for your dad.”
“If he’s there, you’ll break him out?”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s your dad. I called the pack, and told them-”
“You called the pack?” My heart thuds harder.
“Yeah.”
I can’t believe it. He called the pack for me.
“I need you to take your mom and get away from this place. Foxfire, I mean it. I need you somewhere safe.”
“I am safe.”
“You’re in a VW bus painted bright purple with yellow flowers.”
“Actually it’s bright yellow with purple flowers.”
“Foxfire-”
“All right, all right. I promise I’ll be safe.”
“Promise you won’t try to storm the compound.”
“I won’t. I’ll stay far away. Just… Tank?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Be safe. Okay?”
“Baby,” he says softly, before he hangs up.
Tank
It’s full dark when Sam and I arrive at the tall chain-link fence topped with barbed wire that surrounds the compound. There are a few small outbuildings, but the two cars in the dirt lot are in front of the large main building.
“That’s where the server room is,” Sam points out.
“How do you know?”
“Kylie hacked a satellite to get updated images.”
I mentally put her on my don’t ever piss off list, and hunch down to wait. There is a hut with a few guards carrying automatic weapons, to keep out anyone entering the road. Most of their security lies in not showing up on any map. Their mistake, our good luck.
I try to get a good scent of the place. It smells like shifters, but not just one type. Wolf, and a few others I’m not familiar with. No fox.
Two men walk out of the building and head to the cars.
Sam brought weapons for us-funny-shaped black guns. “Tranquilizers,” he tells me. “Garrett doesn’t want any deaths.” I rest my hand on it as we wait.
“All right,” Sam says, when the last car rolls past the guard’s gate. We creep around to the back of the compound and he puts on gloves to use the bolt cutters.
“Wait.” I point to a sign that indicates electric current.
“It’s off,” Sam says. “Not sure why. It was probably built to keep shifters in, rather than out.”
“Maybe there’s no one they need to keep in right now.” I hope it’s not true. That doesn’t bode well for Foxfire’s dad.
We crawl through the small hole Sam makes. He pulls it shut behind us so a guard won’t notice the breach. From there it’s a short run to the back of the main building. The scent of shifters is much stronger here, clashing with a myriad of other smells: bleach, chemicals, and cleansing fluid over darker scents. Blood. Fur. Fear.
Under the cover of darkness, we reach a door. I stand watch while Sam crouches to pick the lock. I stop him before he opens it.
“Alarm?”
Sam shakes his head. “They think they’re safe.”
I hold my breath as he opens it, but nothing triggers. “All right. Go fast. Find the server room.”
We follow our noses down a sick-smelling corridor. The harsh cleansers used to clean this place almost numb my nose, but Sam seems to know just where he’s going. I follow him, committing a few turns to memory until he comes to a quiet office filled with powered-down machines.
“Here.” He pulls a seat up to a computer. “This will be a few minutes.”
I hover in the door, keeping watch. The guards should patrol this place regularly. My hope is that they’re complacent. So far, they are. I’d hate to get into a firefight with them. Our weapons will be no match for theirs. Especially if the guards are used to bringing down shifters.
Sam’s face is eerily lit by the screen.
“How much longer?” I ask.
“I’m in. Ten minutes.”
Just enough time for me to search the building and see if Johnny is here. “Be right back.”
I sneak down the hall, following my nose around a few turns. There’s a definite animal smell that not even the antiseptic can mask. What sort of shifter, I can’t say.
I reach a stairwell and ease the door open. The shifter scent hits me full force, along with the scent of blood and shit. Breathing through my mouth, I descend the stairs. Tingles run up and down my spine as I enter the basement. There are large cages on the other side of the door. The smell is even stronger. This is where they keep their secrets.
Inside, I prowl up and down the rows of empty cages. There are several separate rooms of them, each smelling a little different. Different shifters, I guess. Each room fans off the central one, which is a lab full of racks of test tubes, computers, and tables with heavy restraints. The smell of fear is strongest here. I gag and back out.