Altar of Eden (30 page)

Lorna kept the children lined along one side of the hallway. She edged up to the set of swinging doors that led into the main lab room. Voices reached her.

“How much time is left?”

Lorna recognized Malik’s accent. She also heard the panic in his voice. She used the tip of her pistol to ease open the door and peek through.

Bennett stepped across her view, his back to her. He kept his voice low. “Less than twenty minutes. So hurry up.”

Malik stood by a bank of computers. He was shoving hard drives into a metal suitcase. A portable Dewar flask for transporting cryogenic samples stood next to it.

“What about the rest of my team?” the doctor asked.

“Expendable,” Bennett said, his voice pained. “That’s why I sent everyone out. We keep this evacuation on a need-to-know basis.”

Lorna struggled to understand. Why were they leaving? Why this sudden urgency? She attempted to fold this new reality into her plans of escape. Could she somehow use this to her advantage?

Bennett checked his watch. “Pack up everything and let’s move.”

Malik snapped his briefcase shut, passed it to Bennett, then grabbed the cryogenic bottle from the tabletop. “We have to get these viral samples into a secure lab within twelve hours or risk losing everything.”

“Understood. We’ll make arrangements en route.”

They turned and headed toward a far door, but it was not the one leading into the villa. An Emergency Exit sign glowed over the doorway.

Where did it lead?

As if hearing her question, Malik asked, “The tunnel to the helipad, is it secure?”

“It’s out of the direct line of fire. And the pilot is armed.”

Lorna stayed hidden. For the first time since her arrival here, hope bubbled through her.
There’s another way out!
If she maintained a safe distance and followed them out this back door, she could take the children into hiding in the woods and wait for this war to end.

But her luck wasn’t holding.

A harsh voice barked behind her. She turned to find a stick figure of a man standing by the entrance to the surgical suite. She recognized the technician, Edward, the one who had drawn her blood, injected her with hormones. She also recognized the rifle pointed at her.

“What are you doing here?” he called out loudly. He eyed the kids and kicked the closest one. “Drop your pistol and move into the lab.”

Lorna had no choice. She let the pistol clatter to the floor. The children came rushing up to her. She backed through the swinging doors into the main lab.

She turned to find Malik and Bennett stopped and staring at her.

“Dr. Polk?” Bennett said, his voice full of surprise, suspiciously so. Lorna noted a flinch of guilt pass over his features.

Malik’s eyes widened upon seeing the clutch of children sticking close to her legs. “What luck.”

Bennett glanced to him.

“I could use a couple of these specimens,” the doctor explained. “They’d be perfect seeds for the new facility.”

Lorna’s stomach sank toward her feet. She’d delivered them straight into the hands of the monster.

Edward pushed into the room behind her. He had confiscated her pistol and pointed it at her. He took in the scene with a glance: the briefcase, the Dewar flask. His eyes flicked up to the emergency exit sign.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

Malik took a step forward, crouching slightly with a hand on his hip. He eyed the remaining children, as if trying to pick out a ripe melon. “I won’t lie to you, Edward. You deserve at least my honesty. The island is going to blow up in about seventeen minutes.”

Edward stumbled forward. The tip of the pistol wavered with his shock. “What?”

Lorna felt equally stunned. She now understood their furtive urgency.

“Don’t worry,” Malik said. “Your work won’t be in vain.”

Edward swung his pistol toward the two men. “Take me with you.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible. No room. Especially now. We need these specimens.”

Malik straightened from his crouch. A tiny pearl-handled pistol had appeared in his hand as if by magic. He pointed it at Edward’s face and fired.

The shot was loud, stinging her ears.

Edward fell backward, tipping like an axed tree.

Even Bennett gasped at the cold-blooded murder.

Malik turned to his boss, but he kept his pistol aimed at Lorna. “We could each take one specimen. A breeding pair would trim at least a year off our new start-up.”

Bennett checked his watch, knowing he had no time to argue. He growled, “Pick which ones and let’s go.”

His gaze briefly brushed across Lorna’s. The guilt that had flickered before now shone steadily. Lorna suspected he normally kept himself above such dirty work, purposely diverted his eyes from the bloody reality of this project. But such innocence was no longer possible.

The same couldn’t be said of Malik. Working in the trenches from the start, he was covered in blood up to his elbows. “I’m afraid we’ll have to leave you here, Dr. Polk. You’ll have your freedom for”—he checked his own watch—“another fifteen minutes.”

Malik bent down and grabbed a boy by the arm and dragged him into the air, carrying him like a sack of groceries. “We’ll need a female, too. Take that one.”

He pointed his pistol.

Bennett bent down and gently scooped the child in one arm. His gaze fixed to Lorna. “I’m sorry.”

As they backed away a massive explosion ripped through the space.

The blast lifted her off her feet and tossed her backward. She slid across the floor. A flaming book tumbled past her nose, trailing ash. More debris blasted into the space. She fought to raise up to an elbow.

Children had been blown to the far wall. Bennett and Malik lay sprawled facedown.

Lorna searched around for a weapon.

Edward’s body had rolled against a table. There was no sign of her pistol, but his rifle was still tangled over his shoulder.

If she could reach it—

But Malik was already pushing up off the floor.

Bennett heaved over to his back. He had sheltered the girl with his body and still clung to her.

Lorna began to sidle toward the rifle—when something massive bounded out of the fiery doorway and landed in a crouch. She stared in disbelief at the monstrous tiger. The beast roared, black tongue curled, exposing saber-sharp fangs.

Malik scuttled away like a crab.

Bennett froze in place only yards from the monster.

Lorna recognized the tiger from the video feed on the other island. The psychotic bunch must have broken free of their prison—and plainly had come for revenge. She now understood why Bennett’s group was blowing this place to kingdom come.

More shapes piled in behind the first, pouring out from the short tunnel that connected to the villa. Flames and smoke obscured their shapes, but some walked upright on two legs.

Off to the side, Malik had backed to the emergency exit. He had somehow kept hold of the Dewar cryogenic flask. He hugged it to his chest and dove out into the tunnel.

Bennett was trapped, pinned down by the monstrous army.

One of the hominids came forward. He was missing an ear, and his face was massively scarred. Lorna recognized him from the video feed. He had been the one with the pregnant female, the one Bennett had named Eve.

That would make him Adam,
she thought.

He came at Bennett with a long spear.

The man didn’t bother to move or struggle. There was nothing he could do.

Then the children suddenly rushed forward, moving like a flock of starlings protecting a nest. They piled on top of Bennett, joining the girl in his arms and shielding his body with their own.

Adam stood over them. More hominids appeared behind him.

Through the doorway, a heavily muscled shape bulled into the room, knuckling on claws. A giant sloth. They’d gone extinct ages ago. The genetic throwback settled to its haunches. Fur along one flank had been burned to the skin and still smoked.

Its large eyes scanned the room, then joined the others in staring down at the knot of children.

Bennett finally sat up, as confused as Lorna at the behavior of the children. The young ones continued to stand between the monsters and the man.

All their small eyes locked gazes with the elders.

A silent negotiation seemed to be under way.

Then voices echoed from the demolished doorway. Half deafened by the blast, she couldn’t make out the words, only that it sounded like English.

Another figure stepped through the smoke on two legs.

Only it wasn’t a hominid.

Lorna choked on her shock, at the impossibility of it.

She struggled to her feet.

“Jack . . . ?”

Relief welled through Jack as he heard his name called out. He blinked tears from his stinging eyes and stumbled farther inside the room. It looked like some mad scientist’s workshop. Flaming debris dotted the floor and curled smoke into the room.

Jack squinted, straining—then spotted a figure rising from the floor.

Lorna . . .

He rushed toward her.

She came at him.

Reaching her, he crushed her in his arms. He took her scent deep into his chest. Her heartbeat pounded against his ribs. Her cheek, tender and soft, nestled against his neck. He needed to make sure she was real and not a feverish delusion. He clung harder to her.

But she broke the embrace too soon, fighting him in desperation. Her face stared up, wide-eyed and full of worry. With his shirt ripped open, she placed a hand against his bare chest. Her palm was ice against his skin.

“You’re burning up.”

He took her hand down and clasped her fingers. “Just a fever. Flu. Doesn’t matter.”

She didn’t look convinced. But for the moment she had a larger fear. Her fingers tightened on his hands.

“Jack, the island. They’ve planted bombs here. Set to blow in another ten minutes or so.”

He tensed, picturing the exploding napalm charges. So it wasn’t just the one island. The bastards were cleaning house and burning all bridges behind them.

“We have to get off this island,” she said.

He took her by the hand and led her back toward the door, but more of Scar’s forces had piled into the room, blocking the way out.

Jack stepped forward and confronted him. He had to get the message across. “We must go!” He waved an arm toward the door. “Now!”

Scar ignored him. His gaze remained fixed upon a cluster of children standing in the room. The brood stared straight back at him in a silent war of wills.

Jack didn’t have time for this.

He stepped between Scar and the children.

Finally, the man’s eyes snapped angrily in Jack’s direction. Agony ripped into Jack’s skull. Gasping, he blacked out and fell to his knees. Fleeting images flashed through his head: a spray of blood, a flash of a scalpel, a cinch of leather straps, a splay of a dissected body.

With each image came a bolt of pain.

Then he felt his body tugged to the side. The pressure in his head popped and drained away. His vision returned.

Lorna knelt beside him. “Are you okay?”

Jack touched his forehead, expecting to feel shattered bone. “I think so.”

He looked up. Scar had returned the full brunt of his black attention upon the group of kids. Jack recognized a hard truth. Whatever truce had existed between them before had ended.

He turned to Lorna. “They’re not going to let us go.”

MALIK WHEEZED AS
he ran up the last of the steps. A doorway opened ahead, brighter than the dark tunnel. As he fled toward his salvation he clutched the cryogenic jar tightly to his chest. After Saddam firebombed and bleached the original source, this was the last of the virus supply.

With it, I can start again. With or without Bennett.

From this frozen seed, whole armies could be born.

And it didn’t matter
who
financed his work. There would always be governments willing to pay the price. If not the United States, then another country. And as a free agent, he could command any price.

Reaching the tunnel’s end, he ducked through to the outside.

The sun had set, but the western skies still glowed a deep orange.

The helipad sat atop the highest point of the hilltop. A circle of asphalt, painted like a yellow bull’s-eye, held back the forest. He sprinted toward it along a crushed stone path. Even from here, he heard the low drone of the helicopter’s engine. As he topped the rise he spotted the rotors spinning.

He reached the asphalt and called for the pilot.

A man in a flight jacket stood on the far side, staring down at the beach. He flicked away a cigarette with a flash of ash, turned, and crossed briskly to the chopper.

Malik met him at the open door.

“Where’s Mr. Bennett?” the pilot asked.

Malik put on his best face of concern and regret. “Dead. Caught in an ambush.”

The pilot glanced toward the tunnel as if wagering if he should confirm the story. Malik made an overly grand motion of checking his watch. “We’re down to less than ten minutes. We either go now or never.”

With a concerned glance at his own wrist, the pilot finally nodded. “Load up. I want to put some distance between us and that blast.”

Malik climbed into the backseat while the pilot settled behind the stick. In seconds, the engine roared, and the blades cut faster through the air. With a lurch of his stomach, the skids lifted off the asphalt.

Simply breaking physical contact with the island calmed Malik’s hammering heart. He cradled the frozen prize in his lap and stared out the window. Trees dropped away under him. The expanse of the sea spread wide with all the promise of the world.

He allowed a smile to form.

The pilot called back, shouting to be heard. “What’s that smell?”

Malik didn’t know what he was talking about. He sniffed deeply, fearing a gas leak or maybe smoke. They didn’t have time for a maintenance check.

“What are you carrying?” the pilot yelled. “Smells like an animal took a dump back there!”

Brought to his attention, Malik finally noted a rank smell. He had failed to distinguish it earlier, too accustomed to the odor. He smelled it all the time down in the labs. It got into your clothes, hair, even your pores.

He sniffed at his shirt.

It was freshly laundered.

As he lifted his head the odor grew stronger. It wasn’t coming off him. Fear swamped over him.

He swung around to the small storage space behind his seat. His heart pounded as he peered over the edge of the seat.

A bestial face stared back at him with a savage leer. The creature had crammed itself into the tight space. It must have climbed aboard when the pilot was out smoking. Malik noted the old surgical scars—but also the disk-shaped object strapped to its chest.

A flechette mine.

A year ago, Duncan had tested the blast effect on a male specimen who had dared to punch one of his men. Malik had seen the body afterward. All the flesh had been shredded off the bone—and according to Duncan, the specimen had lived for a full minute afterward.

Horror filled him.

“No,” Malik begged. “Please . . .”

As the creature smiled coldly, a hand lifted to the center of the mine and pressed the trigger.

LORNA HEARD A
distant explosion. At first, she feared it was the island blowing up. But nothing worse transpired.

We should have at least eight minutes,
she estimated.

But what were they going to do with those last minutes?

Standing with Jack, she continued to watch the silent war being waged between the children and their elders. She didn’t understand it, but she suspected the two intelligences—one nascent and pure, the other tortured and broken—fought for dominance. Or maybe it was something less brutal, a probing for compatibility. Having grown apart, maybe a merger wasn’t even possible.

What would it be like to experience this reunion, to see your children again, but be unable to connect at that deeper level?

Finally, some impasse broke. One of the children reached and took hold of Bennett’s hand. The older man stared down at the small form. His face was bloody, his nose broken when he hit the floor.

Moving with that strange flocklike synchronization, the children suddenly stepped forward and openly confronted the larger mass of beasts and men. The young ones looked unnaturally calm, joining hands in a web that Lorna knew went beyond flesh.

Lorna helped Jack to his feet as the mass of children brushed up to her. A small girl extended a tiny hand. Lorna took it, but she kept a grip on Jack’s fingers, too.

Taking a cue from the children, Lorna allowed herself to be led toward the army massed at the door. The one she named Adam stood his ground.

Then a child in the lead—the tiniest boy from the looks of him—reached out toward the scarred figure.

Adam looked down. A mix of grief and agony played across his face. Instead of taking that hand, he danced back as if fearing the boy’s touch.

But for whose safety: his own or the children’s?

Following Adam’s example, the wall of beasts parted and opened a path out of the room. They were being let go . . . or maybe cast out. Either way, the tiny boy took the lead, and the children headed out, drawing Bennett, Lorna, and Jack with them.

Within a few steps, Lorna found herself back in the villa’s study. It seemed like days since she had last passed through here.

More of the beasts took refuge here. But they allowed the group to pass unmolested. Moving on, Lorna spotted a group of men farther down the hall. One of them broke away and ran toward her.

“Lorna!”

She could not believe it. “Kyle!”

After seeing Jack, she had hoped her brother might still be alive, but she had been afraid to ask, fearing the answer.

Kyle shoved Jack aside to hug her. “Don’t ever do that again.”

She wasn’t sure exactly what
that
was, but she nodded. “I promise.”

Over Kyle’s shoulder, she watched Jack cross to his own brother. He spoke rapidly, gesturing. Randy stiffened, twisted around, and headed off with the others toward the front door. One of the men already had a radio at his lips.

Jack returned to them, stepping quickly. “T-Bob is radioing for more pontoon boats. They’ll meet us at the beach. We’ll have to hurry if we’re going to outrun the explosion.”

“Explosion?” Kyle asked.

Rather than explaining, Jack swung away. As he turned he lost his balance. She reached for him, but he tilted and crashed headlong to the floor.

“Jack!”

She rushed to him, dropping to her knees. She had known something was wrong. While holding hands, Jack had been trembling, quaking with what appeared to be microseizures. She already feared the worst.

Kyle helped turn him over.

Through his burning skin, she felt tremors rising up, growing worse. His muscles quivered and spasmed. His eyes had rolled back into his head. Whatever last reserve he had been riding had finally given out.

She laid a palm on his cheek. With her touch, his eyes snapped back into view. They focused weakly on her. His lips moved. She leaned closer to hear.

His breath brushed her ear. His words were few.

“Tom’s gone.”

She pulled back, at first not understanding this reference to his younger brother. Then she saw something in Jack’s eyes, something that perhaps had always been there, something she had tried best not to see, dismissing her own feelings as echoes of another boy, another love.

Tom’s gone.

A tear rolled down from the corner of his eyelid. He had wanted to get this out before it was too late. Perhaps to say even more.

“Jack . . .”

But he was already gone. His eyes glazed as his body lifted up in a backbreaking arc. His limbs contorted into a full-blown seizure.

Lorna sprawled on top of him. “Help hold him down.”

Kyle grabbed his head. Two men ran up in gear that matched Jack’s.

“What can we do?” the larger of the two asked.

Bennett answered from two steps away. “Nothing.” His eyes met hers across Jack’s quaking body. “I’ve seen it before. Too many times. He’s infected.”

Lorna had suspected the same when she first hugged Jack. She remembered Malik’s description of the protein found in the blood and saliva of the genetically altered animals, how it self-replicated, crossed the blood-brain barrier, and burned through the cerebral cortex like a wildfire.

“There’s no hope,” Bennett said.

She wasn’t going to accept that. She stood up and pointed an arm toward the door. “Get him to the boats.”

“What are you going to do?” Kyle asked.

Lorna turned and headed back toward the labs.

Bennett called over to her. “No one ever survived.”

Lorna ran back through the gauntlet of beasts.

Bennett was wrong.

Someone had survived.