“Do you have time for me to show you the latest results in Lab H?”
“Yeah,” Kenny said. “I just have to transfer subject 76 into Holding Room 3. I’ll meet you in Lab H in a few minutes, alright?”
“Sounds good.”
Kenny pushed the cart once more. Then the movement eventually halted and Kristi heard Kenny walk away. She felt her stomach unclench from tension; she had been afraid Kenny would check on subject 76 (the dog) and discover her hitchhiking.
Kristi listened to her surroundings. It was deathly quiet. However, the air smelled of animals. She pushed open the gate of the dog crate and crawled outside; then she latched the entrance of subject 76’s carrier shut and absorbed the details of her environment.
Holding Room 3 was filled with cages with blankets draped over them. Aside from her and the sedated animals snoozing in their prisons, the room was empty.
Kristi patted her pockets and located the micro-fiber sponges stashed in there. She slunk out of Holding Room 3 and pretended to clean a tinted window in the hallway while she waited for Chelsa and Troop to arrive. After several minutes, Kristi tucked the micro-fiber cloth back into her pocket and set off to explore the East Wing for a bit.
Her first room to check out was Lab E. Lab E was by far the biggest lab Kristi had ever been in. The lab could’ve easily held five hundred people; as of right then, roughly fifty people milled about in it. What really grabbed her attention, though, was the abnormality of the animals being housed in the room.
As with several of the other rooms Kristi had visited in New Genes Lab, animal cages took up a good portion of the lab. The majority of the animals housed in Lab E were primates with a few canines, horses and colorful, tropical birds sprinkled here and there; they all either looked wrong or acted wrong.
The chimpanzee to the far right of the room had gold fur. The pony fast asleep beside the golden chimpanzee stood on unnaturally long legs. An orangutan across the room curled its lips at Kristi and her eyes snapped wide open when she realized the eyes of the orangutan were a shocking violet color; she was pretty sure normal orangutans didn’t have purple eyes.
“Ah-hem.”
Kristi jumped at the noise coming from behind her. An intelligent looking man with a slightly drooping mustache towered over her. He crossed his arms and a disapproving expression etched into his face.
“Are you lost?” he asked.
“No—no I know where I am. I just got lost in my thoughts for a second. I’ll be off to clean the windows now.” She held up her micro-fiber sponges to show that she was here to clean the lab windows.
Kristi ambled over to a window beside a cage holding a bird whistling a simple tune. She wiped the sponge left-to-right on the glass. A few moments passed and she couldn’t shake off the feeling that eyes were boring into her back. She threw a quick glance over her shoulder.
A woman in a white lab coat observed her work; at the same time, she was listening half-heartedly to the man who had just spoken to Kristi. The woman caught Kristi staring back at her and gave a smile. The smile the woman flashed her sent shivers running down her spine; although the smile seemed friendly on the surface, there was something sinister about it. Kristi desperately wished Chelsa and Troop were beside her.
chapter thirty-nine
Troop watched a gaggle of scientist stride by him and Chelsa. He checked his watch; three minutes since he last saw Kristi being wheeled away—God, it felt like three hours though.
“Any brilliant ideas on how to get into the East Wing?” Chelsa asked.
Troop shrugged.
A man in a rumpled lab coat came barreling down the hallway. A stack of electro-slates tittered precariously in his arms.
“Careful there,” Troop said. “There’s a person in front—”
Wham!
“Too late,” muttered Chelsa.
The untidy looking man rammed into another man pushing an empty cart. The electro-slates flew into the air rained down onto the ground.
“Aw, crap,” said the man who was carrying the electro-slates
“I see that you’re in a rush as usual,” the disgruntled cart-pusher said.
“I’m going to be late for my meeting.” The man knelt down to examine the dropped slate closest to him. “Thank goodness the glass isn’t cracked. So glad the lab ordered reinforced glass for these slates.”
“Watch where you’re going next time, alright?” The other man booted a couple electro-slates out of his path. “The lab just got a new shipment of supplies, so there’s a lot of traffic transporting the stuff from the holding room.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
The cart-pusher wheeled the pushcart away. Chelsa helped pick up some of the electro-slates and asked the scientist, “Would you like me to help carry some of the electro-slates for you?”
“That would be great.” He picked up the last slate off the floor then said, “Follow me this way.”
The two of them stood up and Chelsa trailed after the man, headed in the direction of the East Wing. Well, she’s figured out how to enter the East Wing. Now it’s just me left.
Troop absent-mindedly opened the black toolbox and rummaged through the contents: a bottle of window glue, a three-in-one tool of some sorts, cleaning acid and a tin of mints. Nothing really useful.
A petite woman rolled a cart with a load of crates on top past Troop, traveling to the East Wing. A few minutes later, a different woman pushed an empty cart from the opposite direction. Troop observed the flow of laden and empty cards, catching on the pattern. Carts carrying supplies were being transported to the East Wing while unloaded carts were being wheeled out.
If I can find the room where all the stuff being carried into the East Wing, I can hide myself in a box and sneak in as well, he thought.
He began to walk in the direction the empty carts were being pushed without appearing too obvious. Troop shadowed a bald scientist for the length of a few hallways, then stopped, watching the man continue on out of sight.
He pretended to inspect a window for signs of damage while he waited for the next empty cart to pass by; he didn’t want to be caught stalking a New Genes Lab employee.
“Hey there, Kenny.”
Troop looked up to see two scientists greet each other, each walking in opposite directions.
“How many loads left?” asked the scientist who wasn’t Kenny.
“Seventy-three last time I checked. Better hustle.”
Troop tailed behind Kenny; Kenny remained oblivious to Troop the whole time. Troop stopped trying to keep track of left and right turns Kenny made after twelve turns. He stayed back when Kenny pushed his empty cart through a set of automatic doors.
Troop didn’t have to wait long before Kenny reemerged with a few black bags piled onto the handcart. Kenny hummed a monotonous tune under his breath as he wheeled his load out of sight.
Another man entered the holding room with an empty cart and exited with it buried beneath bales of hay. Convinced he had found the room he sought, Troop allowed a couple more employees to go in-and-out of the room before ducking inside when he was sure it was empty.
Troop squinted in the weakly lit holding room. He quick stepped over to the nearest crate that appeared to be big enough to fit his body. The crate his eyes were on was long and low. The top of the crate slid off with no problem—no locks or anything.
“Squawk!”
He flinched in surprise and peered down into the wooden crate; five or six chickens milled about aimlessly.
“Hey, guys. Sorry to crash your party,” he said.