Alpha's War

Chapter 2-2

Nash

Later that night, I head into the ring. The crowd cheers, but all I hear are screams. How many did I kill as a soldier? They’re here, ghostlike faces turned vicious, ready to drag me to death.

My vision goes blood red, then black.

Next thing I know, I’m in the ring and Parker signals the start of the match. The bruin turns, and his profile reminds me of one of the Data-X guards. A sadistic f**k who liked to strap down small shifters and pump them full of juice until they smoked. Snack-sized, he said.

Red. Black. The bruin falls, his face a bloody mask. The bouncers enter, drag him out. Another fighter takes his place. Young. Cocky. Like me and the other prisoners when we voluntarily entered testing, thinking we were part of a grand experiment. A master race.

“We’ll find the best for you Nash,” Dr. Smyth said. “I’ll help you control your lion. Keep him from killing again. And then you’ll breed the master race.”

Red. Black. Another fighter in the ring. Two this time. They rush me together and their fists fall. Pain washes me clean.

I’m back strapped onto the chair, sides bruised. Mouth parched, body smoking. “Not so strong now?” the guard asks, raising the shock stick.

I roar and two startled faces blur in front of me. I reach through the red haze, grab both by the scruff of their necks and slam their skulls together. Two for one.

The crowd screams. My head rings. Declan stands in front of me, offering water.

“How many fights do I have left?”

“One more.” He sounds worried. “But you don’t need the fight. We can—”

“No.” I climb to my feet as a mean-looking fighter lumbers into the ring. My lion won’t be deprived his prey.

“We need to stop it,” Declan says to Parker, who nods. “I’ve never seen him like this.”

Parker turns and raises his megaphone. “That’s all for tonight, folks—”

The crowd boos. They want blood. I’ll give it to them.

I rise to my feet and plod to the center of the ring, the crowd’s cries washing over my bruised flesh. “Nash. Nash,” they chant. “King of the Beasts.”

My opponent turns with a mean smile. I grin back and let loose my lion.

Red. Black. Black. Black.

“Nash, stop, stop!” A grey head flashes in front of me. Parker, shouting, mouth open and wild. “You won. He’s down. Stop before you kill him.” The air is heavy with the scent of blood. My lion approves.

“You won,” Parker repeats. I try to take a step and stagger under the weight of several bouncers. Panic rises, and I thrash to throw them off. No use. The prison guards have shock sticks.

“Let him go,” Parker cries and the men release me, jumping back. But I run, claws out. I’m blind, blood streaming into my eyes. I reach the fence. It’s not electric. Someone turned the power off. This is my chance.

“Nash—” Declan is on the other side of the fence.

I raise my hands—now tipped with black claws—and swipe through the metal.

My claws tear and I howl but don’t stop until there’s a hole big enough for a lion to rush through.

Then I run. My lion is out, people are screaming, scrambling out of my way. Red claws at my eyes, black lurking in the corners, threatening. One final burst of speed and I’m outside. Falling to all fours, I let the darkness consume me.

* * * *

I wake naked in the car, my mouth full of blood. I cough on the tang and almost spatter the wrinkled piece of paper lying on the dash. Denali’s address. The lion found it and put it there.

“All right. All right.”

Every inch of my body screams. My hands are swollen, bloody. Over the past few months, the shifter healing has slowed, and that can only mean one thing: I’m dying. It’s only a matter of time. It’s only a question of how many I take with me.

I can’t risk Denali. But the next time I black out, my lion might take me to her door. There’s no telling what he’d do.

He’s made it clear, if I let him die, he’ll take everyone he can down with him. I have no choice. I have to go to Denali now, when I’m in control.

I find a change of clothes in my trunk and get dressed. I put the car in gear and drive, not sure if I’m a dying man headed for the gallows, or a cure.