Rippled

Excerpt From: Rippled

Brian

The first time I saw Krista should’ve been my last. She didn’t belong in a cage like the rest of us. Like some kind of animal. She was too smart. Too beautiful. And when she finally shifted…the fur all along her body wasn’t right. It didn’t fit her. It didn’t suit her at all.

I still remember when the bus rolled into our sad excuse of a community. I wanted to turn her around and send her home. I didn’t. Instead, I stood there, gawking at her—just like everyone else. At her smooth skin. Her perfect body with all its hills and valleys. And that hair! Dark brown with a touch of honey when she walked under the sunlight. So. Fucking. Beautiful.

He’s not going to turn her, I thought. There was no way Malcom had brought her here to inject her with the virus. There had to be some other reason. Something he hadn’t explained. But those hopes were shot down when he asked me to join him in the lab where new bloods were injected and forced to shift for their very first time.

As we stood behind a wall of glass, I watched a collection of nurses guide Krista into the chair. They strapped her in. Restrained her. Connected her to machines along with copious amounts of sedative. My eyes went wide as I looked from Krista’s questioning expression to Malcom, who stood beside me.

"You can’t be serious," I said, gesturing at the image in front of us. "You don’t honestly mean to turn her, do you?"

It had to be a prank. He’d done them all the time when we had been in college. Hell, he’d only got me to take the virus because he’d drugged my drink one night. There was no way he’d turn something—someone—so stunning into one of us. Into someone like me.

I licked my lips and watched his face for any outward signs of the impending prank. His stormy grey eyes were focused on a panel of data in front of us, his hands inside his pockets. He rolled his shoulders back. I bit at the inside of my cheek. If this was a prank, he was hiding it extremely well. He’s had practice, I assured myself. Don’t let him get to you. He’d never let me hear the end of it if I did.

Someone in the other room coughed and looked our way. I checked the monitor that was connected to Krista, but her heart rate and blood pressure were close to normal.

It has to be a prank.

I was sure of it now. If Malcom had brought her into the camp with the intention of turning her, she would’ve reacted like everyone else. Nervous. Scared, even. But she didn’t even flinch when a nurse rubbed her arm with alcohol. Her heart didn’t skip a beat.

"All right." I laughed nervously. "You got me." I took a breath and smiled in Malcom’s direction. "You really had me going there for a minute."

Malcom furrowed his brow. "You think this is a joke?"

I matched his gaze. "Isn’t it?" He’s just trying to throw you off. There was no way in hell he’d consider—

One of the nurses pulled a needle from her pocket. Krista’s heart rate increased. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. Malcom didn’t seem to notice. He glanced down at a pad of paper, reading over a set of notes he’d memorised ages ago.

"Putting on the act a little strong, don’t you think?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

No response.

I bit at my bottom lip and looked back through the window. I didn’t need to watch the monitor to know her heart rate was elevated. Her eyes were dilated. Her fingers dug at the arm rests.

"Malcom, stop," I said, a little sharper than I intended. "This has gone on long enough. I told you, I give in. You got me. Stop this before someone gets hurt!"

He glared at me when I grabbed his arm. "I invited you here to watch. If you can’t take it, the door’s right behind us."

I’d seen plenty of outsiders—new blood—come in and shift in the past. And now wouldn’t have been any different if Malcom had only picked a different test subject. Hell, I didn’t even know what he needed them for. The virus had been tested and retested. The results were always the same. The virus worked. But that wasn’t enough for Malcom. It never had been.

Perfection. That’s what he wants.

"You do realise the leopards won’t be the only ones feeding on her, right?"

Malcom set down his notes and locked his hands behind his head. "Meaning you? Come now, Brian, I thought you of all people had some self-control."

It’s not my control I’m worried about.

I sighed and said nothing else. For as long as I could remember, Malcom had always been the more adventurous of the two of us. When asked to jump, it wasn’t a matter of too high for him, but rather if he’d ever come down. For him, theories were only the beginning, soon followed by diagrams, formulas and live experiments. I’d just never expected the subjects to come in human form.

Looking at him now, it was safe to say how unkind time had been to him. While my hair was slowly going from brown to grey, his had gone completely white. Luckily for me, I could explain my greying hair away with my ability to shift, but his? His was purely from stress, sleepless nights spent milling over new ideas, and a lacklustre diet. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him eat a damned thing since I’d got here. Not an actual meal anyway. Grazing.

That’s all he does. Just like in college. It’s a wonder he hasn’t lost his mind.

Something caught my eye in the other room, and I watched with horror as Krista’s beautiful body was torn apart by the leopard inside fighting to get out. Her mouth opened. Closed. No sound came out. A silent cry, but a cry all the same. It had been so long since my first shift, I couldn’t remember the pain or how long it had taken, but I knew right from the start that hers wasn’t normal.