Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 80431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
He opened his eyes and counted the squares on the ceiling from one corner to the farthest one from him.
He locked in on a spider moving over its web. Somehow, each delicate strand shimmered in the dimness. He could see the details of the intricate weaving as if it were inches away and not clear across the room.
What’s happening to me?
People came in and out on heavy rotation. People in long white lab coats and goggles would tinker with the countless wires and tubes attached to just about every part of him, even his feet.
The door to his room opened, and he had to control his reaction to the insensitive fluorescent lights that flashed on and illuminated the lab-like room.
Sawyer feigned sleep, listening for information, recognized, or opportunities he could use to escape his imprisonment.
From the sound of their footfalls and their whispers, there were three of them. But they had little to no scent, as did his environment. Every now and then, he’d catch subtle hints of animals or chemical residue like bleach or antiseptics, but those were faint.
“This one is responding well to the new schedule. Brain activity is strong and multiplying exponentially.”
Another voice whispered, “We can go ahead and combine the Buteogallus serotonin uptake with a dopamine stabilizer. We don’t want any aggressive tendencies that may get out of control.”
Buteogallus? What the fuck is that? Sawyer wanted to scream.
But he had to keep a level head and continue to fake unconsciousness if he was going to formulate a plan.
He’d overheard talk of animalistic tendencies, extreme metabolic stress, genetic tampering, and words like hematopoiesis and pathophysiological responses.
Cold electrode stickers were pressed against his temples and chest before he felt a substance like liquid iron spreading through him.
The medicine or serum singed his insides, distorting his perception of reality and inhibiting his ability to remember who he was and how he’d gotten into this crazy shit.
“Sarah, these guys could end up being biological time bombs that detonate and kill every last one of us.” The same woman who’d been poking and prodding him multiple times a day for weeks sighed. “By the time the treatments are finished, they’ll be ten times stronger, faster, and more intuitive than any human being on this planet.”
“Then justice would be served,” the man droned. “This is wrong. But we can do what the Ravens ask or get shot in the back trying to walk out.”
“I can’t believe this is happening.” She sounded as if she were crying. “I’ve spent my entire life studying human and animal behaviors and our connections. My studies were never meant to be manipulated and weaponized like this.”
“Stay strong, Sarah. The best we can do is work day and night to ensure we don’t miscalculate a single formula. Remember to scrutinize every theory, triple and quadruple check our calculations, and keep their vitals and levels under constant observation.”
Sawyer had concluded that these scientists didn’t want to do this and were just as much a hostage as he was. He had to think of a way to get them to risk their lives and help him escape.
But to where?
Where would he go? He didn’t even know where he lived. Who would he tell what these people were doing?
Dammit, Sawyer was slipping toward the blackness that came with each dose of whatever that medication was. But on the edges of that darkness was a faceless man with his arms outstretched. He was walking in a densely wooded area with plush foliage and vibrant flowers.
It seemed familiar, and he wondered if maybe he had a home nearby.
Sawyer was hovering, floating over the strange man’s head, and he had an overwhelming urge to reach him. A cloudy sky opened and stretched out forever as he glided through blustering winds and torrential rain.
He barreled closer toward the ground, and when he was close enough to reach out, the man bared his teeth and flinched away, taking cover in a thorny bush.
Don’t be afraid.
When Sawyer looked down, he wasn’t reaching toward the frightened man with human hands. He had two-inch-long mustard-yellow talons.
Sawyer’s heart pounded like a thousand war drums. The world tilted and loss flooded him, the hole driving so deep it nearly buried him.
Chief Aiken Oakley
Oakley had that weird sensation of being half-awake but half-asleep. He’d been having the same vision every time he closed his eyes. A sight that made his blood freeze.
A huge bird of prey with its wings outstretched so wide it blocked the light from the moon, drenching him in cold darkness.
This creature wasn’t just a bird. It was a hunter. It glided easily and with the wind. It loomed over his head, scaring and comforting him simultaneously. Oakley was fearful because it was the biggest raptor he’d ever seen, but he also felt a sense of protection emanating from its core.