Page 38 of Sergi
I sat at a table filled with shifters, but with the rule of no talking we might as well be sitting at tables for one. Today, I was grateful for the rule because my mind whirled with the few statements the vampire had shared with me.
Was he a spy for the Master? Would a vampire be willing to go through the amount of torture he’d endured in the hopesof getting information from me? It was crafty, but based on my experience living in this hellhole, it seemed overkill. All they had to do was threaten us with an injection of their serum and most shifters would tell them whatever they wanted to know. Even if we knew we’d end up in that silver cage anyway, there was always a chance of living one more day.
I’d know soon enough whether my last encounter with the vampire had been a well-laid trap.
Magic Poppy. My uncle had mentioned it before and considered it a major threat to shifters. Vampires, their beasts raging out of control would not only be a danger to shifters but to humans as well. Though, I’d never heard of Blood Poppy. The vampire seemed to think it was a cure for Magic Poppy. Had the Blood Poppy been created as an antidote?
I thought back to the vials from the refrigeration units. H appeared to symbolize human blood. The MP was now confirmed as Magic Poppy. All the other labels started with an S, which I assumed were the drugs being given to the shifters in the experiments.
Maybe the Blood Poppy didn’t need to be refrigerated. Each lab had at least one locked cabinet, but S-272 had cleaned those.
When they called for S-473, I dumped the remains of my lunch, placed my tray on the rack, and followed a different guard to the labs. However, instead of going to the main labs, we stopped at a supply closet.
“You’ll need the cart.” He stepped aside and waited patiently for me to step into the closet, review the items on the cart, then push it out to follow him down a hallway with multiple rooms.
These were smaller, private labs for the various scientists and lab assistants. From what S-272 had shared during our short chats, these labs were where the formulas were created and tested before being used on live subjects. While I’d been aware of them, I’d never been in any of them.
The guard, who’d stood close enough to determine he was a vampire, was chattier than the others. “The next phase of testing has been pushed another day, and the shifter that usually cleaned these rooms is no longer available.” I didn’t dare ask why that was. “Until we can train a suitable replacement, and while the labs you’re typically assigned to are in standby mode, you’ll clean these labs.”
He slid a keycard over the panel to open the door to the first lab. Stainless steel cabinets ran along two sides of the room, a round six-person conference table was in one corner, and a desk covered with files and books was in another. Beakers, racks of vials, Petri dishes, and a computer currently in standby mode covered the top of an island positioned between the counters.
“Dr. Lister is at lunch. You have twenty minutes to clean the office. Don’t touch the counter where he has important research underway. It will be noticed, and the punishment for such an act is severe. Do you understand?”
The scientist was at lunch. That made sense. When I noticed theguard staring daggers at me, I responded, “Yes.”
His forehead scrunched, his eyes narrowed, and his lips thinned as he assessed me, as if he didn’t understand how someone so slow could be allowed to work in the labs. I ignored him and stepped outside the room to grab the basket of cleaning supplies from the cart. His glare followed my every move as I removed a rag and bottle of disinfectant spray and began cleaning the cabinet doors and empty counters.
After a couple of minutes, he growled, “I’ll return in twenty minutes to take you to the next lab.”
He didn’t seem any happier when he returned to find me waiting at the cart. “Why are you standing there? Was there something missing from your cart?”
“I’m finished with this lab.” I kept my expression blank but grinned when he left to prowl through the room.
When he returned with no complaints, I pushed my cart to the next room. He’d barely swiped the card before walking away, his mumbled words barely audible. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”
The only disparity among the individual labs was how clean or messy a particular scientist was. Other than whatever research or tests they were performing, everything else was the same from lab to lab. Besides the general layout, two security cameras were positioned at each end of the room, and an apartment-sized refrigerator and a single cabinet were next to the cabinets on the lab side, both requiring a keyed combination. What were the chances the codes were the same as the main labs?
I didn’t touch the top of the island counter where the staff appeared to do most of their work, but I peeked at the files and specimens as I swept the room.
All of the rooms had racks of vials with an S on the labels. These were the shifter formulas they were perfecting. Though what result they strived for continued to be a mystery. Only one of the labs had a rack of files with an H on the label. They must be working on something that either required human blood, or they were testing the effects of their formulas on it. Somehow, that idea was as horrifying as what they were doing with the shifters.
Maybe the rack of vials was nothing more than the scientist’s mid-afternoon snack. I stifled a macabre laugh at the possibility, then lowered my head so the guard wouldn’t see it as he led me to the next lab. When it appeared I’d finished the last one, I was turning my cart around when he stopped me.
“I was going to leave this corner office for tomorrow, but you’re ahead of schedule, and I just received notification that the director is coming back early. It would be best to clean his office before his arrival.”
He opened the door to a room befitting a CEO. If the building hadn’t been inside a mountain, there would have been floor-to-ceiling windows to show off an amazing view. And it appeared the director was a scientist as well as an administrator.
The room had been divided into two equal parts. On the left was a replica of the smaller labs, including a locked refrigerator and cabinet.
On the right was the administrative side. A massive desk with two visitor chairs, a row of dark oak filing cabinets, two bookcases stuffed with books, ledgers, and stacks of files that appeared to have been stuffed in any open crevice. A dull gray couch with two matching side chairs was against the only open wall. The painting above the area was monochrome in various shades of brown and reminded me of similar impersonal works in corporate offices and hotels.
Between both sections was a rectangular oak table that seated eight. It seemed to represent both a separation between the two sides of the office and a connection that tied them together.
“The director didn’t have time to complete his current work so, like the other labs, refrain from cleaning the island. You have a full hour for this office. Make it sparkle, girl.”
I placed the cleaning supplies on an available counter and took a moment to survey the room as if I were planning where to start. There were two security cameras, which surprised me for the director’s office. Were they concerned about unwarranted visitors, or was no one trusted—not the staff or the director?
Like in the other labs, I scanned the director’s experiment as I swept. My gut lurched when I noted the labels on the racked vials. There were five vials. One was labeled MP, one was labeled with an S, one was labeled with a V, and two were labeled with BP.
