FicWad

Chapter One: Threats

Tigershark jogged through the tight traffic of downtown, anxious to catch a glimpse of his quarry. If the humans found out just what was going on, just why he was chasing his person their already hellish lives would only become worse.

"David, you need to hurry up," he heard Angelina come over his receiver; "He's headed for the New Fresno Medical Center."

"Damn it." Tiger grit his pointed teeth. "Be there in two shakes. See what you can do to slow him down."

"Short of killing him?"

"Right," Tigershark agreed. "We need to find out if he's been in contact with anyone else."

"Great. Just hurry."

"As fast as my rebreather will let me, dear."

Tigershark signed off, mentally cursing his need for the water rebreather on his back. This was even though he knew he wouldn't have gotten this far without it. He and Angelina had been tracking this perp for nearly twelve hours since the first reports. That was too much time for him to be out of water.

Unlike Angelina, whose lungs had never been tampered with, long periods in atmosphere did nothing save poison his system with accumulated carbon dioxide. He would have long since died of asphyxiation were it not for the contraption that Doctor Thomas had devised for him six years ago.

Tigershark digested the time period they had been on this particular case. He was surprised this mark was still alive; from what they had been told he wasn't going to survive exposure.
When the gemue crossed the street heading for the hospital, he caught sight of Angelina waving him impatiently forward. He put on a burst of speed despite the extra hundred pounds of weight on his back.

As he came even with her, he growled, "Come on!"

His heart leapt in fear he could see the man through the plasteel sliding doors. The victim, skin hanging loosely from his bones, plopped down in a chair in the waiting room. It wasn't long before a doctor made a beeline for him. Their quarry was definitely an emergency; however, Tiger couldn't let the doctor actually help him. He didn't want to be responsible for the consequences of that. He disconnected his mask, snorting water at the entryway even as the doors slid to.

"Don't touch him!" He bellowed.

Tigershark was satisfied when the doctor leapt to his feet and away from proximity to his would be patient. An expression of both surprise and anger twisted his thin face. The doctor looked at him for long moments, as if trying to decide what exactly was going on, and then his brows furrowed. He shook his head, kneeling before the patient and reaching for his wrist.

"NO! I said don't touch him!"

He finished the warning as he leapt forward, tackling the doctor and sending them both away from the oozing man. The two of them slid across the floor until they had rammed into the wall just under the reception desk. Tigershark was barely able to keep the full weight of his body and the added weight of the rebreather from crushing the thinner man.

"Don't you listen," Tigershark growled, pinning the man's shoulders down, "You really don't want to do that."

"Get off of me!"

The thin blond pushed Tigershark up with strength he didn't look to have. The gemue's eyes widened in surprise - the man was successfully pushing up nearly two hundred sixty pounds.

An arm latched about his throat before he could react, as an odd voice reverberated in his elfish ear, "You heard the man...get the hell off of him!"

Before he could look for the source of that voice, the arm lifted him bodily up and launched him toward the entrance. Tigershark landed heavily a foot back, the housing for his tanks squealing as he slid across the polished tile, and his head snapped sharply back with the impact. His assailant - a man his own height but more heavily muscled - had slammed a heavy foot on his sternum. Air woofed out of his lungs, and he glanced up through watery eyes to find a pale skinned face - completely devoid of hair - hovering over him. His expression was livid. That acerbic humor rose up in Tigershark despite the dire circumstance.

I think he knows the guy.

He felt as if a vice had been strapped around his chest, sandwiched as he was between the man's foot and the hard metal of his tank housing. Tiger grabbed the guy's boot, attempting to push it off. It wouldn't budge, and that sent another shock of fear through him, since not many people were stronger than he was, pound for pound.

A flash caught his eye, and he tried to warn Angelina off just as she impacted the man in the chest, her pale braided hair streaming behind her. The move sent him off balance, and as Baldy went over, Tiger slashed at his calf, hoping to incapacitate him. The action sent a jolt up his arm. He drew his hand back, chancing a glance at it and finding that one of his long nails had snapped just above the quick.

"What the hell?" He muttered.

There was something more to these people than met the eye. The gemue wondered if the man was wearing some kind of body armor under his pants.

The man recovered from Angelina's attack swiftly, and he hadn't even noticed Tiger's own contribution. Baldy grabbed Angelina about the neck and flung her from him, before she could lay claws into his pale skin. He fought with skill undue any Joe off the street. Tigershark was seeing someone specially trained. If the man's look didn't contradict the notion, Tigershark would have guessed a law enforcement background.

Angelina got to her feet, coiling to spring at the man again, fury clear to read in her elongated face and silver gray eyes. Baldy noted it and crouched, ready for the charge that she was preparing. Tigershark could see that this was going to be an all out brawl if things didn't settle down.

Tigershark tried to push up; it was an awkward attempt at best. He was unable to right himself due to the extra weight on his back and his odd position. He felt like a turtle flipped over in the sand.

His gaze returned to the two mismatched combatants, grimacing as Angelina sprung forward, engaging the larger man. Anxiety rose higher, and he fell back to struggling with the cursed equipment that allowed him to be on land for long periods of time.

The two opponents tangled for long moments, the bald man trying to keep slashing claws off of his face with one arm, even as he pushed Angelina's chin up and away from him. The man swatted down on her arms, lunging into the newly opened space. He grabbed Angelina by the throat and lifted her off the ground. Angelina's feet flailed, bicycling as she tried to gain purchase in his clothing or his skin at about waist level. Tigershark wondered a moment if she intended to disembowel him if she could manage it.

Tiger fell upon his collar with anxious hands, needing to be free of the device. He needed to halt the hostilities around him before something drastic happened. His rush, of course, made it an impossible job to get the latches to give. Finally they surrendered to his fumbling fingers, and he pushed the mask up over his head. Tigershark moved to unstrap the device from his body, feeling heat in his face. This was embarrassing, him being unable to rise without being freed from his rebreather first. It didn't matter that no one else was really paying attention to his plight. Planting both feet, he slid down the length of his rebreather, and, gathering his weight over his legs, he pushed himself up. He watched with rising anxiety as he straightened, as the man drew back a fist with the full intent of putting Angelina down.

"Stop!" Tigershark's deep voice echoed off of the sterile walls.

The noise caused both Angelina and the bald man to stop their struggle, and the man dropped Angelina back to her feet. Two pairs of eyes locked on him.

"Both of you, just stop!"

He turned to the thin man, the doctor, assuming he would be the level head in this situation. Tigershark offered him a hand up from the position he was still in on the floor. The man eyed him warily.

"Give me a moment to explain," Tiger said in a reasonable tone, shaking his elongated hand once toward the man in a gesture of goodwill.

The man's mouth thinned but he nodded in one quick motion and took Tigershark's hand. Tiger pulled the blond to his feet, realizing as the man straightened that he had at least four inches on his own height. Shrugging uncomfortably, he then turned back toward the oozing man who had been the bone of contention between the doctor, his bodyguard, and he and Angelina. Tiger waited patiently as the other two reluctantly joined the group.

"This man is contagious." Tigershark tried to keep the information between the four of them. He knelt down next to the man, who, in just the few moments of their altercation, had declined to a point where there were only several square inches of his body that did not have open sores. He looked the man over closely, a pang washing through him. The sight of him brought back memories of very similar circumstances. He saw the signs, so obvious to him after that first time.

Patches of the patient's loose skin were thick and gray, hair was falling before his eyes from the man's head, and the tell tales of his transformation showed about his neck and hands, the only spots yet to be mutated.

The doctor took a step back, looking every bit shocked by the news. "What?" He looked down at his unprotected hands and then wiped them on his smock. This was though he had yet to touch the steadily declining patient.

Tiger nodded solemnly, "And believe me you don't want what he has."

He stood again, looking around the room seeing all of the innocent bystanders watching this whole thing go down.

"Can we move this elsewhere? These people don't need to hear this."

The blond man nodded, "There's an examination room open."

"Perfect." Tiger said, waving his partner over. "Angelina?"
She nodded without a word and took one arm even as Tiger gathered up the other.

"What are you doing? You said he's contagious."

"Not to us," Tiger replied with a shake of his head, "We're already there. Make sure that the stuff he left behind in the chair is sterilized. Full body suits, we need zero exposure."

With that he turned toward the room indicated and slowly walked the patient to it.

He heard the larger man say, "I gotta hear this."

He followed in their wake.

Once the five of them were inside Tiger looked up, crossing his arms over his muscular chest, "My name is David Scott, but most people call me Tiger or Tigershark. This is Angelina Cortez," He said waving a hand at the female gemue standing guard over the still deteriorating patient. He did nothing that offered the human contact, knowing what was now on his skin. "We are representatives of the Gemue Allegiance, sent to investigate a rash of mutations such as this in the local area."

"Gemue studies are illegal."

The air of authority in the bald man's statement caused Tiger to frown. "It wouldn't be the first time the law was broken regarding this topic. Or else we wouldn't be here."

Tiger almost laughed at his own off color humor, the double meaning perfectly clear to him, even when it would cause confusion for the two humans before him.

The doctor seemed to remember his manners. "I'm Doctor Tom Martin, head trauma surgeon for the hospital. This is my brother, Steve."

Steve only nodded, looking angry and distrustful.

"What are you?" Tiger directed his question specifically to the man introduced as Steve, but had a suspicion that the explanation applied to both brothers.

The two opposite him looked at each other, and the one named Steve twisted his legs, only now noticing the cuts in his pant leg. Several of them gaped, giving Tiger a good look at the banded metal beneath the fabric.

"Cyborgs," Tiger nodded. "Okay, that answers that."

The two glanced at each other. Shock was clear in their expressions at hearing such a nonchalant answer, but they still remained silent.

"Why won't you let me help the man?" Doctor Martin inquired finally, hearing the patient's moans coming from behind the living wall of gemues.

"Alright, explanations," Tiger said, peering at the floor a moment. He moved over to the sink and turned on the hot water, scrubbing his webbed hands and the parts of his wetsuit that had contacted the patient. When he had finished, he turned back to them and in explained in tones that only carried to their ears, "This man has been exposed to a mutagen that is highly contagious, and easily spread by touch. It kills most of the people who come in contact with it. Those who don't die are turned into gemues - well biologically. They look more like something that's been skinned, than any gemue you would recognize. Added to that agony is the fact that they become carriers of the mutagen - they can't ever touch another soul for the rest of their lives. A very few are resistant to the disease altogether."

"What? I've never heard anything about such a disease. I would think CDC would have caught wind of it by now."

Tigershark shook his head at the doctor's adamant response. "This is being kept very quiet. We in the Allegiance don't need a panic. And we really don't need vigilantism from the masses against any and all Gemues."

Angelina nodded, adding, "There is someone out there who is making these carrier gemues. They are sloppily formed; very primitive, as if their creator is trying to get them out the door as fast as possible. He also likes them to look like sharks."

She glanced at Tigershark and then back at the other two, whose brows rose in alarm. He knew what they were thinking - standing before two very shark-like gemues.

"Trust us, we're not to be included with them. We are talking looking like true sharks, with only a few aberrations that would give them away to a trained eye." Tigershark attempted to ease their fears.

"Like?" It was Steve who asked.

"Multiple dorsal fins, very human eyes," Tiger shrugged, "These latest carriers were caught by fishermen - usually net fisherman, tuna, salmon - commercial. Their catch infects them, usually because they shoot the 'sharks' and are exposed to the blood through a cut or an open sore. From initial exposure the virus mutates again, to be transmitted through sweat; shaking hands, touching, any kind of contact moves the virus from the host to the next victim."

"We are trying to find out just who it is who's started all this." Angelina interjected, seeming unwilling to provide the entire back-story.

"The last time there was only one, and it was destroyed before it could become an issue. Someone thinks this is cute, or has a serious vendetta against the human race."

"This has happened before?" Steve queried, taking a step toward Tiger.

Tiger nodded, turning to Angelina sidelong and saying softly, "Angel, see what information you can get out of our sick friend there. He doesn't have much time left."

She nodded and turned back toward the bed, speaking to the frightened man in soft tones.

Tiger leaned on a stool that was nearby, "The last time I saw this was six years ago. It's not something I'll easily forget."

***

Tigershark's looked up as he finished telling the pertinent parts of his experience on the USNS Clinton six years prior.

Tom and Steve both looked stunned by his story.

"Why didn't you report it?" Steve growled.

Tiger glared at him impatiently. "I was on a military ship...the military handled it. Who was I supposed to report it to? I thought it was taken care of!"

"Well, obviously it isn't," Steve retorted, arms falling to his sides, and fists tightly clenched.

An audible growl escaped Tiger's lips, and Tom stepped between the two to prevent a fight here in the observation room.

Tom shook his head, gazing into the Tiger's elongated face to get his attention back on him. "Who would do such a thing?"

"That's what we want to know," Tigershark said, snapping out of his dark mood. "There was a man named Marcus who was involved in the research around that time, but..."

"He's dead." Tom completed the statement, his face suddenly ashen and drawn in. His eyes widened as he realized what he had let slip out. More quietly he added, "He couldn't have anything to do with this."

"You...knew him?" Tiger blinked.

"I killed him."

Tiger scanned over Tom's slight, less than fighter style frame, and he quirked a brow in disbelief.

"Tom," Steve said, grabbing his brother's shoulder. The motion and his brother's voice snapped him out of whatever memory he seemed to be reliving.

Tiger narrowed his eyes. Yes, there was definitely more to these two than he thought.

"As I was saying, Marcus was in on the research, but he died six years ago. We think we know who is responsible for the creation of these gemues, but we haven't been able to catch up with him, or find any credible evidence to support our theories."

"Who?" Steve demanded, sounding altogether like a police officer. Tiger believed more and more that he had been some point in his past.

"You wouldn't know him." Tiger's reply was coarse, reflecting his irritation with the man.

"Can we get to helping this man?" Tom said, swinging the subject off on another tangent.

"Sure," was Tiger's flippant reply, "got a contamination suit?"

Tiger watched as the doctor's brother leaned in, whispering something and looking very uncomfortable. Straightening, Steve said louder, "Be careful."

The tone in his voice told Tiger that it was a warning both for the contagious man in the background and for the two gemues he would be left alone with. Tiger's mouth thinned. Shooting another hot look at Tiger, the pale man left the room.