Page 9 of Unnatural (Men and Monsters #2)

The nurse pushing the wheelchair carrying a small, bony boy who was staring straight ahead stoically turned the corner and went out of sight.

Autumn waited a moment and then moved from behind the tall hydrangea bush where she was standing, half-obscured.

She hardly dared a glance as she rushed past the path where the nurse had turned, ducking into the doorway just beyond.

She stood there for a moment, catching her breath as she listened.

There was only the gust of the wind and the call of a distant bird.

She leaned out, turning her head in both directions before once again stepping onto the path that led to the newer section of Mercy Hospital, the one she’d been told was mostly used for research and development and the occasional surgery when the other operating rooms were all in use.

She reached the high fence that she’d only seen from afar, gripping the wires as she peered through.

The building was much newer than the brick and stone structure used for the children’s home and mostly devoid of windows.

Odd. Researchers and scientists weren’t known for their conventionality necessarily, but surely, even they liked a ray of sunshine now and again.

Or maybe they developed products whose ingredients fared better in very specific conditions.

What did she know about any of that anyway?

There were KEEP OUT signs along the fence, but clearly, the warnings didn’t possess teeth as there was no barbed wire at the top.

Her eyes moved to her hands on the links.

And it’s not going to shock you if you touch it.

She was glad she hadn’t considered that before she’d gripped it, or she might not have tried.

Then again…why should there be barbed wire or any other physical deterrent?

It wasn’t as if the kids at Mercy had the strength to scale a fence anyway, even if they wanted to.

Well…except her.

A spiral of pride wound through her, making her feel slightly delirious.

What a dizzyingly delightful thought it was that she was now strong enough to scale a fence!

The realization gave her courage, and she let go of the wire, stepping back and looking at the entirety of the chain-link fence, deciding on the best place to climb.

Only the side of the older building was visible. There was no window view to this area.

A spear of indecision poked at her, but she brought his face to mind, remembering the motivation that had led her to this fence in the first place. He was real. The hair she’d plucked from his head and placed beneath her tongue proved it.

And if he was real, he lived somewhere nearby.

Where though? He obviously didn’t live on one of the floors above or below her.

The only place she could think of was this place.

This windowless laboratory. And though she was afraid, the monster with the soul shining from his midnight eyes was too much of a lure. I have to know.

She gripped the fence, beginning her climb before she could talk herself out of it. Grip, pull, find a foothold. Grip, pull, find a foothold. Halfway up, she made the mistake of looking down. A small whimper escaped her throat. What are you actually doing, Autumn? Have you lost your mind?

That question gave her fortitude, because she was clear on the answer, and she turned back, continuing on. Grip, pull, find a foothold.

No. I have not lost my mind.

I might have just found it.

The reality she thought she’d been living might actually be part dream. Or deception. But she couldn’t think too much about that just now. She needed at least a few answers first, and this was her chance to get some.

She threw her leg gingerly over the top of the fence and started her descent. Grip, release, find a foothold , only much, much faster this time.

When her feet hit the soft earth, she allowed herself a small shimmy of victory before turning, ducking, and moving behind the foliage that lined the chain-link obstruction between the old and new buildings.

She moved down the slight incline to the edge of what looked like a power station or generator or who knew, a tall fenced-in area containing enclosed boxes and heavy corded wires twisting from one row to the next.

There were stickers on the gate and the boxes warning of electrocution.

As she walked to the edge, she could see there was a path beyond. She hesitated. Should I follow it?

Yes. Autumn tiptoed slowly down the path toward the large windowless building.

She squinted at it, and from this close distance, she could see several doors along the side, all with what looked like keypads.

The portion of Mercy where she lived didn’t have any such thing.

Of course, they had some basic security, but not like this.

Maybe there’s just very expensive equipment here that requires a different level of protection.

When she was almost at the place where the path broke off in either direction, she heard voices and what sounded like wheels on pavement.

With a sharp intake of breath, she pressed her body against a nearby tree, clenching her eyes shut as the voices approached.

The squeak of the wheels grew louder, covering what she now thought was a… pained groan.

Autumn’s breath stalled, her heart rate increasing as she pressed her lips together, attempting to become as small as possible.

There were two voices. Women. Serious tones.

The squeak of the wheels pierced her ears, echoing inside.

They passed by the place where she stood, their conversation continuing.

She caught a few words of medical jargon but not enough to interpret or understand.

When they had moved a short distance away, Autumn peeled herself from the tree, moving around its side.

The nurses’ backs were to her now, one pushing the gurney, the other walking beside her coworker.

Autumn leaned out as far as she dared, her eyes widening as they turned along the path, the white sheet covering the person on the gurney shifting slightly to expose half of a human face, purple and swollen grotesquely, one eye staring directly at her.

Autumn clamped her hand over her mouth to keep herself from screaming, her heart slamming in her chest. The flash of a tiny red light under the eaves of the building across from her caught her eye, causing her panic to ratchet higher. A camera? Was it a security camera? Oh God.

The second the nurses turned out of sight, Autumn booked it back the way she’d come, scurrying up the incline, tripping and cursing herself for her clumsiness.

She ducked, running along the short row of bushes to the place where she’d climbed the fence and ascended rapidly as though someone— or something —might reach up, grab her leg, and pull her back down.