Beneath the Current Read online

  Beneath the Current

  by

  Taylor Ryan

  Text Copyright@ 2015 Taylor Ryan

  (Craftingmom/Oh2Bwriting)

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover photo copyright

  Wrangel @ dreamstime.com

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34—Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other Works

  Coming Soon

  Prologue

  "Casey, you have to calm down," the man above him intoned, placing a strong hand on his chest to hold him in place. As if the straps weren't already doing that.

  The five year old's breathing was escalating as he tried to understand why they were doing this. His tiny heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest, and tears leaked down his temples into his sandy brown hair.

  "W-wh-what... w-what are you d-doing?" he finally managed to gasp out. He'd been on this table so many times in his young life that he hadn't thought much about it when they asked him to climb up on it tonight. He'd thought they would take his blood again and then let him go play in the pool, like always.

  But they hadn't. They had banded his wrists and ankles to the table.

  He yanked his legs again, feeling them firmly strapped down at the ankles. No, they couldn't be doing this. He strained to draw his legs together, he needed to get his legs together.

  He'd lived with these men and women all his life, at least as far as he knew. Some of them he called Dr. So-and-so, some just told him to call them uncle—he liked them the best, they were usually nicer and talked to him in a softer manner. Uncle Thomas and Uncle Martin had talked about even taking him outside one day, but that was a secret. These stark white walls and the ever-present machines and monitors that they often hooked him up to had never seemed menacing before. But they'd never tried to strap him down like this. On a full moon—knowing what was going to happen to him.

  They'd always let him swim in the pool whenever he wanted to. He loved the glass pool—the corals, and anemone, and the waving strands of kelp were so inviting. Chasing Bart, the clown fish, and Angel, the angel fish (duh), was more exciting and fun than most of the toys in his room—except the iPad. He really liked playing games on that.

  But they knew, they knew, he needed to be in the pool on the full moon. The pull of the moon was overwhelming, and he needed to change. They knew that. So why were they doing this? He tried to think if he'd done something wrong. After talking back one time a long time ago and Dr. Broden had smacked him, he hadn't done it again. He tried very hard to be good, to do everything they told him to do. So, why...?

  "S-stop, p-please," his small voice begged. "I n-need—"

  "Harris, we need to stop this," one of the men he called uncle—Thomas, he thought, by the sound of his voice— grabbed the arm of Dr. Harris who was leaning over him.

  "No, we need to see what happens when he can't," Dr. Harris insisted, his eyes shooting over the monitors that several others were scanning. He snapped his fingers at another man. "Get another blood sample. I want to know what's happening with his hormones and his myoglobin count. It usually spikes when he changes. I want to know what happens with those levels when he doesn't."

  Casey's gray eyes darted around the room, blurred by his tears as he looked for any of his family of doctors and uncles to help him—where was Uncle Martin or Dr. Litner, or— ?

  Dr. Thomas—Uncle Thomas—was hovering over his head. The man's eyes darted to Casey's racing heart monitor before he looked back down. Casey tried to hold his gaze, but pain snaked down his spine through his hips, and he let out a blood-curling cry.

  "Harris, come on," Casey vaguely heard Thomas plead, but he knew Dr. Harris wouldn't listen. Dr. Harris was the one who seemed to order the others around. He was the head of his family, and everyone listened to him.

  "Thomas, shut up," the older man growled, his eyes intently staring at Casey's shaking body.

  But Casey didn't care anymore, he couldn't focus. Pain was ripping down his groin into legs as his body continued to try to force his change. But without his tiny legs being able to pull together, his body quivered with the pain of trying.

  Casey didn't even feel the prick of the needle drawing blood. Hell, they drew blood from him all the time, needles were the least of his worries. He could feel his body tensing with the need, sweat pooling under him.

  "He's too young for this yet," Thomas insisted. "His body can't take it."

  Another voice echoed from the monitors. "Dr. Thomas might be right. The spikes in his system could cause him to go into cardiac arrest."

  "He'll be fine." Casey felt a hot hand on his bare, sweaty chest, practically covering his whole torso. "Just breathe through it, boy," Dr. Harris ordered.

  Casey was sure that he heard Uncle Thomas storm away, and he wanted to call to him to come back, to please help him. Thomas would have listened. If he had just stayed.

  "Heart rate is spiking, sir!" a voice shouted.

  "... breathing is shallow... O2 levels dropping..."

  Another bolt of pain spiked down his body and he arched off the table as much as the straps would allow, his fists yanking so hard he almost broke the bones in his tiny wrists. "Noooo..." he wailed, but no one seemed to want to let him free.

  "Another blood sample!" Harris ordered, and Casey vaguely wondered about the odd glitter in the man's eyes when he managed to open his own.

  "I got it, you son-of-a-bitch," another voice mumbled, and Casey thought vaguely that it was Uncle Martin.

  "Harris!" Thomas shouted, distracting the older man from staring down at him, and Casey was briefly relieved the man wasn't looking at him, but then he felt the pinch in his arm again. More blood. "You're going to kill him."

  "Back off, Dr. Thomas," Harris growled, turning back to the flurry of monitors.

  Casey managed to open his eyes, catching sight of Dr. Thomas again. Casey's eyes leaked a river of tears, soaking his already damp hair as he tried to focus on something, someone who might comfort him.

  The moon had always been that soothing comfort before, urging his body to make the change that it craved. He'd always been allowed to float in his pool, staring up through the glass ceiling at the bright white orb, basking in its lunar enchantment.

  And they'd taken that from him tonight.

  He hadn't known how much not changing would hurt. They had asked him a few times to hold off as
long as he could before caving to the allure of the moon, but they'd never stopped him when the desire, the pull, had dragged him to complete changing. To become his other self.

  He panted heavily as another stab of pain began building in his lower back. His eyes shot up to Uncle Thomas, his wrists and ankles yanking on the restraints. "P-please..."

  Uncle Thomas looked like he was crying too. As another scream tore out of his throat, Casey felt large hands cupping his face, lips brushing over his damp forehead.

  "Sleep, Casey," he heard a soft whisper.

  But then the pain surged, his breath felt like it was ripped out of him and his chest felt like a heavy weight was pressing on it. Black shadows floated at the edges of his vision, and he fought to breathe.

  "We're losing him!"

  "Get the restraints off!"

  A blessed coolness rushed over his body, pleasure rushing through his legs as his body fought to complete the change. But he felt numb too. His chest heavy, his heart beat, that had been so fast, stopped.

  "Casey!"

  "Damn it!"

  Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep...

  "You son-of-a-bitch!"

  Blackness took over his vision, and the voices faded blissfully away.

  Chapter 1

  Brian Martin watched as his partner ripped the monitor wires off the boy angrily, his arms curling around the limp body as he pressed his head to the young boy's chest. He hid the hypodermic needle quickly and ignored the chaos of the other scientists buzzing around him for a moment, glad that Thomas had managed to remove the monitor wires.

  Dr. Nelson Harris was gleaming down at the boy's lower half, his hand sliding over the sleek skin. In the seconds after the restraints had been removed, little five year old Casey's body had completed its change. His lower half had melded to form his beautiful sleek blue-gray tail.

  The boy was nothing more than a success in the Cetacean Assimilation Study to him. CAS-134 as the boy was labeled. Attempt number 134 to splice dolphin DNA with a human fetus. He was the only test subject to survive so long. Once number 134 had survived six months, one of the techs in charge of caring for him had started calling him Casey, instead of CAS-134, and it had stuck.

  Little Casey, their crowning genetic achievement in gene splicing. The decades old research had finally achieved unparalleled results—a live specimen of human and dolphin DNA splicing had been born five years ago. Casey, the only one of the mix to survive thus far. Until Harris had decided to push the experiments too far.

  Dr. Martin and his partner, Dr. Thomas, had known this was coming over a year ago. They all had. Dr. Harris, the lead researcher, had started pushing Casey already with more tests, more trials—like forcing him to stay underwater until he almost drowned. Casey wasn't a fish, he was still a mammal, and like other marine mammals, he needed air to breathe. He usually stayed under for ten or fifteen minutes on average, but Harris had pushed him to see just how far he could go. It was the first time Casey looked really scared, and Dr. Martin had watched as his partner's heart nearly broke. He'd stayed under for fifty-three minutes before breathing the water. They'd had to yank him out and resuscitate him. Fortunately, Casey hadn't remembered much of what had happened. But Thomas did. Dr. Peter Thomas, his long time lover and partner, had cried so long that night, and Martin knew he'd fallen in love with the boy, the hybrid, their experiment. Thomas had always been a soft-hearted man.

  But nothing had prepared the boy for this. Hell, the kid still looked at them with those wide innocent gray eyes, so eager to please. He hadn't ever known what a mother or father was, just the myriad of scientists floating around him all the time. He'd been happy it seemed to spend his days playing in his rooms or swimming in the tanks.

  They had watched Casey for the last few years, running, swimming, laughing, crying—changing... They had quickly discovered that, like many marine animals, the full moon affected Casey's dolphin DNA in an unusual way—on those nights he was unable to control his change. It was odd, like reading stories about werewolves who were forced to change under the full moon, Casey was affected in much the same way. They suspected that if Casey had been outside of the facility, he'd be drawn to the ocean, basking in the moon's lunar pull. Any other day, he could control it. It wasn't like those mermaid movies where if he got splashed with water he automatically changed. He could be in the water without changing, but he preferred to have his tail when he was in the water.

  But Harris had started to get anxious, wanting more data, more experiments, now that Casey had survived past the infancy and toddler stage. Harris had become frustrated at not being able to repeat his success. Casey appeared to be an anomaly, and Harris wanted to know why. What had caused Casey to survive when none of the others did?

  After the close call with the near-drowning, strong debate had risen up within the ranks of the attending scientists and researchers. But anyone working the Cetacean Assimilation Study had been sworn to secrecy and had signed non-disclosure documents, so no one could go outside the facility for help.

  But just how far were they willing to go in the name of science? Dr. Thomas and Dr. Martin and a few others had argued on the side of passive research—watching and learning—they had an opportunity here to learn so much just by letting Casey grow with minimal invasiveness. Martin had even tried to argue the eventual economic and scientific accolades they'd accrue when they presented him to the world. His lover hadn't been so sure about that, money didn't matter to him. He just wanted to keep the boy safe.

  But Dr. Harris and his supporters had cited the need for results, for data. Of course, the age old debate of human experimentation arose, and Harris firmly argued that Casey wasn't truly human. He was a hybrid marine mammal. And of course, the private donors who supported their research were also anxious to push forward, finally being able to see the chance to earn back some of the money they'd invested.

  "At least he changed first," Harris's voice caused Thomas to jerk suddenly. As he shot the man a glare, Martin was certain that his lover was about to take a swing at their boss.

  "Do you even care that he's dead?" Peter snapped.

  "Of course I do," Harris frowned. "Now we'll have to work doubly hard to replicate this experiment."

  Peter had looked over at him, his jaw dropping open at the senior scientist's callous statement. Martin distracted him however, and gave him a curt nod, urging him to continue with their plan, as Peter gathered Casey's limp body in his arms.

  "Get him on ice," Harris ordered to the room. "We'll start physiology tomorrow. Maybe when we open him up, we'll learn more."

  When Peter Thomas lifted the young boy in his arms protectively, Dr. Harris gave him a narrow-eyed frown.

  "Give me a fucking minute with him," Peter snapped, irritated by the senior man.

  "Fine," Harris growled back, casting a quick glance around at some of the others, surreptitiously wiping at their eyes as well. "All you sentimental idiots can get it out of your systems now. Get finished up in here and be ready to come back by eleven AM tomorrow. If you can't handle it, don't bother showing up. I'm not going to listen to anymore whining over a dead fish."

  When Peter opened his mouth to respond, Dr. Martin wisely cut him off. "Yes, sir. We'll get finished and be ready tomorrow."

  Harris turned to Peter cradling the limp body. He ran a hand over the smooth tail again, causing Peter to jerk back, and Martin was afraid that he'd lose it right then. "Dr. Thomas, your services are not required anymore. You have until tomorrow afternoon to pack up your stuff."

  Thomas stiffened, but he managed to bite back the urge to yell at the man again. "Yes, sir."

  They all watched Dr. Harris disappear through the door. As Thomas turned to face him, a slight smirk appeared at the corners of the man's mouth before Martin turned to others in the room.

  "You heard the man, finish up," Martin snapped. Then he came around to Peter. "I'm so sorry, man. I'll help you pack. Gina, why don't you come with us, see if you can find some boxes
, and then you can help me with Casey. I think Dr. Thomas wants a few minutes alone with him to say good-bye."

  The young tech nodded and followed the two men down the hall. The rest of the scientists silently finished their tasks as they left. They followed as Peter ducked into his small office.

  As soon as the door was closed, Thomas snapped at Gina. "Get me that blanket."

  She grabbed it up, and they wrapped the little body in it.

  Martin opened the box they had procured weeks ago, and Pete moved to gently lay Casey in it. He smoothed loose locks of sandy hair from the boy's face.

  "How much did you give him?"

  "Enough," Martin quipped, worried about whether the neurotoxin would finish the job that Harris started or not. Peter had intentionally ripped off the monitor wires before they could detect a heartbeat, hoping that the tetradotoxin would fool the techs long enough for them to get Casey out. It was risky, but they'd had little choice. Faking his death was the best option, otherwise Harris would hunt them forever. "We need to move fast, get him out of here and give him a dose of adrenaline."

  "I'll get the cart," Gina said as Martin closed the box.

  "Carson is manning security at the northwest door. He'll make a good show for the cameras of checking all your boxes. You know Harris will check the security footage. Gina's gonna bring a gurney and we'll make it look like a body is on it and move it into cold storage. Now, let's get the hell out of here and get to the house."

  Dr. Martin allowed himself a moment of hope as Gina returned and they loaded the cart with boxes, including the one containing Casey. So far, everything was going as planned, better even, since Harris had actually dismissed Dr. Thomas and he wouldn't have to suddenly resign and disappear. A year ago after the near-drowning, he and Dr. Thomas had devised this plan to get Casey out of here. His lover had begged him to help save little Casey from Dr. Harris's growing risky experiments. And Martin would have done almost anything for him.

  New names, new passports, new everything. A home on a small peninsula, almost an island, off the coast of Sri Lanka. There were only two houses on the small island connected to the mainland by a long land bridge with a dirt road. They had purchased the one that was up for sale and had spent quite a bit fixing it up. Crews thought their request for such a huge saltwater aquarium in the living room odd but didn't seem to care much as long as they got paid. The other home on the island was owned by an old aristocratic family from England. They'd been told no one lived there currently and hadn't for some years, so they had figured they could hide with Casey there.