Chapter 1: Part 8, First Taste
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The crunching of hard packed earth broke the silence in the dank room. Jackson's heavy footfalls could have waked the dead, and did. His calculating gaze rested on the dog in the corner of the room and felt a malevolent curiosity returned. Thinking that this shit was seriously FUBAR he had wished that he had stuck to the type of civil disobedience that he was used to with the North Eastern University New Black Panthers. He felt that this was way outside what he was used to with the militant militia. The group had started from the campus's black fraternity Omega Psi Phi. It had been birthed inadvertently by some of the brothers trying to clean up some of the gang activity around the neighborhood. One thing that they had come to realize was that the only real way to beat a gang was to become a gang. Lately they had mostly been involved with intimidating what they had felt were traditionally non-black establishments.
How he had gotten involved in this he couldn't remember but he knew it had something to do with Jen. The brothers would certainly beat his ass if they had found out that not only had he been involved with an all white organization but that it had been to get the attention of a white chic. Jackson shook his head to get rid of the distracting image of Jen and took another step towards the center of the room.
Things had gone all wrong since the mission had been green lighted. The task had been two fold. Their main objective was to take photos of the labs and test subjects. Their secondary objective was to obtain any hard evidence of viral testing which was going on in the Vion labs such as clinical results and any loose electronic storage media. They certainly weren't supposed to release any of the test subjects let alone take the dog and the corpse. Like a scene from GoodFellas they moved the bodies in the dark Cambridge side road that diverged employee traffic from Fourth Street into the parking garage. The dog had been agitated at the change of scenery but obviously the animal had been kept too sedated to do anything about it. While the cold weight of the body proved to be awkward even for a man of Jackson's stature.
Jackson broke from the feral stare of the dog to the more interesting and potentially the most damning form that lay motionless on the floor. To take the body had been his idea and he had been regretting it ever since. He had been on watch for two days now and it hadn't been easy, trying to baby sit a nightmare dog and a rotting mass of meat was more nerve racking than he had originally thought and he was supposed to be the tough one. That was the main reason why Jen had asked him to join the group. She had known that he was the Sergeant at Arms for the Panthers and that the role was to maintain and train the other Panthers in weapons handling. While the New Panthers openly professed non-violence Jen had heard the rumors and saw the police headlines about the vigilante militia though nothing had been proved.
At first the dog had been sleeping most of the time, but since the sedative had worn off the beast spent hours eyeing him silently from the corner. At each approach its head would raise and a guttural growl would ensue. Jackson had placed a cut open gallon of Poland Springs and an opened can of Alpo as close to the dog as it would let him and as close as he knew the chain would hold it at bay. What had been the most unsettling was that no matter how much its stomach rumbled with hunger the dog wouldn't touch its food or water. Instead as the time had passed Jackson could swear that the dog started to drool each time he moved within its range.
As he pulled his eyes away from the dog he caught a brief tumult of activity from where it rested. It lay on its side contorting in unsettling spasms. Writhing in pain, unnatural sounds splashed and echoed of the walls making Jackson's skin crawl. What was going on? Was it dying? He didn't have time to think before he reacted, he moved forward trying to prevent the dog any further injury. Damp coldness spread into his large hands as he placed them on the animal trying to stop its head from cracking repeatedly into the rock wall. Jackson's hand cushioned its head from the jagged stone, the sharp edges digging into his flesh as fresh blood spattered its surface. As the intensity of the animals spasms started to calm he removed his hand to check his own injuries. Shit why did I do that, he thought slowly retracting his hand as the back of it dripped blood over the animals head. A split second later the dog awoke. The blood acting as if it were smelling salts. He had barely enough time to pull his hand away just as its jaws snapped shut like a steel trap. Falling backward he tucked into an awkward roll for his large frame. It was just enough to get out of range as a metallic snap of the chains cut through the sounds of his heavy breathing and marked each successive attempt to reach Jackson's throat.
Anger sprang up from a deep well within Jackson as a powerful kick connected with the dog as it made one last attempt for its escaped prey. A glimmer of satisfaction crossed his face as the animal crumbled into a motionless pile on the floor. Jackson started toward the dog to finish the animal off when he felt an icy grip lock onto his muscled calf. He stared down in disbelief as another hand came out of the darkness and latched on just under his kneecap. A disembodied pair of eyes locked onto their target. A tearing sting assaulted his pain receptors as gleaming white teeth sank deep into the soft flesh of his calf.