The journey through the forest took longer than it should have. Both of the S.T.A.R.S. troops were disoriented, and the woozy feeling of the virus in her system didn’t help Felicia much either. She did her best to keep focused on her objective, to block out the voice of the tigress inside her and the tingling in her bite wound. Every time her thoughts strayed to how wonderful it would be to no longer be human, she cursed at herself and trudged onward, occasionally scratching at her bandage.
Christopher found himself on double duty, watching not only the forest for signs of attack, but his fellow soldier for sudden swings in personality. He lied to himself over and over, telling himself that there was a cure inside, and they’d find it before Felicia completely became a weretigress. His lies gave him strength, but little comfort.
“The facility’s just ahead,” Christopher spoke through his comlink. He received no response.
“Did you hear me, Felicia?”
He wondered why she didn’t respond, until he looked back. She had taken her protective helmet off, and her communicator with it.
“Felicia! Get your helmet on! You’ll…”
“What? Become infected?” she scowled. “Little late for that, don’t you think?”
Christopher found it hard to argue, given her appearance. From the roots of her hair, formerly short and dark brown, now grew alternating orange and black locks of slowly increasing length. She had grown a mane of hair in fifteen minutes that would have taken most people two years. The tips of her gloves were slowly being worn away by lengthening nails; he could barely make out the darkening tips.
Most haunting were Felicia’s eyes. No longer the pale blue of before, the irises had transformed into a brilliant emerald green. When she looked up, they caught the light, and glowed with the reflection.
“Take these extra bullet clips. You’ll need ‘em a lot more than me soon,” Felicia grumbled in a gruff voice, tossing a lock of hair from her eyes as she tossed the silver ammo clips to Christopher. She seemed to be pleased to be rid of them.
“Move your ass. We’re wasting valuable time.” As she walked, she discarded the bandage, exposing not only her completely healed bite wound, but the faint shock of tiger fur that had grown around it.
She pressed on, eager to keep moving, but also to push away the voice of the tigress – a voice that was beginning to feel comforting…right.
The pair had walked for ten more minutes by the time they’d found a dirt path with the other two chutes.
As they did, something else found them…