Between a Bear and a Hard Place(50)

No time to think about that, no time to think about anything else. With her head lowered, she charged straight ahead, bowling through two more of the strange orderlies. Her massive shoulder slammed straight into the heavy door, which resisted far more abuse than any other hospital door she’d ever encountered.

“How?” she managed to croak.

“At the same time!” Draven’s voice came, raspy and tight. “On three!”

A fist closed on Claire’s neck, but it wasn’t trying to wrench her around. “It’s me,” Jill said. Her face was so close to Claire’s ear that Claire smelled the soda and chocolate on her breath. “Draven can see, you can’t, I’ll help lead you. For now, just get through that damn door!”

Somewhere to her left, Claire heard Draven shout “three!” and without a second thought, charged straight ahead. This time when the cold steel crunched against the bone of her shoulder blade, the door gave, blasting outward and slamming against the metal on either side with a teeth-rattling clang!

Claire shook her head, momentarily dazed.

“Turn left!” Jill shouted, yanking the fur on Claire’s neck. She had her legs wrapped tightly around Claire’s sides so that her heels dug into the muscles. At any other time, this situation would have been wonderfully funny, but right then, the only thing on Claire’s mind was getting the hell out of there.

As the unlikely trio charged down another pitch-black hallway, the sound of feet clomping against the tile was all around. Boots on the ground, Claire could tell, rubber soled ones – combat boots, hiking boots, something like that. She could hear even the squeak of the rubber sliding against the floor as the swarm ran.

“What do we do?” she croaked, her throat raw and pained, but at least she managed words that time. “They’re everywhere!”

“Run!” Draven urged, seconds before he grunted with pain.

Something hit Claire in the side, bringing the hot sensation of blood to her fur.

“Turn here, right! Right!” Another yank on her fur and she followed the command.

Instinctively, she powered through, head down and shoulder braced, as though she knew a door was coming. She wasn’t disappointed. Another heavy steel plate swung backward, this time opening into a room bathed with blinding, horrible, white florescent light.

Claire stumbled and fell onto one side, stunned by the brightness that seared her vision. Backing into a corner, she stopped when she found where the walls met. She blinked, hard, trying to force herself to see through the pain. At what felt like great length, but really was only a couple of seconds, the world came into focus.

There, in the middle of several faceless beings, shrouded in white scrubs, was the pilot.

“Now!” she heard Draven shout. “Get him now!”

She’d learned, in the last few minutes, not to question the old man, no matter what.

With a surge of power, she charged the table, knocking both the patient, and several “doctors” against the wall. As soon as he was free, Draven grabbed the man with his teeth, flung him onto his back.

“Window!” he shouted. “Now!”

“But... but how far up are we?” Claire heard herself ask as she did what she was told.

“High enough to hurt,” she heard Jill say. “But you’ll live.”

The sensation of glass shattering around her was followed immediately by the rush of air, chill against her fur, especially the part marked with blood.

All too quickly, the rush of air was over. The crunch of impact was the last thing Claire remembered.

*

Shattered, splintered glass and bloodied fur notwithstanding, the trek back into the woods was calm, and almost hauntingly quiet.

Jill looked nervous, probably about her mates, but maybe about the cauterized hole in her pilot friend’s shoulder. Draven was lost in thought, and Jacques was flat-ass unconscious. Claire, though, had a whole lot of reckoning to do.

“From molecular biology Ph.D. to lab grunt to... shit, I just turned into a bear, didn’t I?”

No one answered, though she hadn’t particularly expected anyone to say anything. Since their escape, and the four hours of getting lost in the woods that succeeded it, only Draven said much of anything, and that was mostly just tired-sounding orders about go this direction, or turn that way. The strangest thing about all of it? About hulking out, turning into a bear, and ripping into those orderlies?

The strangest part was that Claire wasn’t particularly concerned about it.

If nothing else, she was proud of herself for somehow keeping cool in the face of being, you know, a mythical creature not supposed to exist. “God,” she said under her breath as her feet crunched through the leaves, “and to think – all this time, I was convinced those whack-job books were just crazy people ranting about things that made no sense.”