Jurassic Dead (9 page)

DeKirk stared at him a moment across the Internet, the eyes of the abstract figure in the Picasso right along with him. He paused to light a cigar, and exhaled a cloud of blue smoke at the lens.

Xander, not liking the silence, added: “No idea how long this thing'll stay out for.” He turned around and peered over at the
T. rex
as if checking it for signs of stirring.

“We need to figure this out, and fast.”

“No shit. So what—?”

“Order the Captain to reroute the ship to Adranos. Marcus can be properly evaluated at Adranos. My facility there is state-of-the-art and fully operational.”

“How come I was never told about what you’ve got at Adranos?”

“Xander, don’t press my patience.”

“How far away is it? Can you tell me that much?”

“It's far, but the ship is fast.”

“So I've heard.”

The video image dissolved into a mess of pixels and DeKirk was gone, leaving Xander to wait in uncomfortable silence for the men with the stretcher, to wait with a dying man and a slumbering ancient predator...

16.

Aboard Oil Tanker Hammond-1, En route to Adranos Island

Marcus felt like he was coming off the worst bender of his life. Except that he hadn't gotten drunk in the last twenty years, since his college days. The lights of the ship's infirmary began to come into focus as he brought a hand to rub his throbbing temple...and felt only a smooth lump of bandage drag across his skin. Making his headache worse was the incessant yapping of the ship's doctor.
What's her name...?

Veronica Winters stood in the corner of the infirmary, about as far away from Marcus as she could get in the little room, talking furtively on a satellite phone that Marcus hadn't seen her use before. Usually, she carried the smart-phone that worked via shipboard satellite, or else just the two-way radios. He closed his eyes again, not wanting her to know just yet that he was listening.

“...certain that DeKirk isn't on board. No. If you'll just let me explain...”

She talked very softly, with just enough air behind the words to keep them from being a whisper.

“No, we
were
headed to Chile, but the course has been changed to go to some island. Adranos something. Listen, if you don't want me to compromise my cover, I've got to get going and try to patch this guy up somehow. I'll initiate contact at this number from the island and give you a sit-rep. Out.”

Marcus heard her stash the sat-phone in her medical bag and then take a measured breath. He opened his eyes. Turning his head, he watched her take a smelling salt packet from a trauma kit. She then turned around to walk over to him, stopping in her tracks as they made eye contact.

Dropping the smelling salts, she nervously approached him where he lay in the cot. He dimly remembered the
T. rex
, the crushing pain in his hand. He looked down, saw the bandaged stump, and the gauze soaking through with spots of pus. He did his best not to lose it. He wiggled his remaining fingers and toes. Those that were there seemed to work, but he didn't feel good, and that was for sure. The headache. The general feeling of malaise, like something he couldn't put a finger on that was just...
not right at all
.

His wrist hurt like hell, too. “What medications have I been given?” He stared expectantly at Veronica.

“Oh, good, you're awake!”

“I asked you a question, Doctor.”

“So far...ah...nothing.”

He tried to sit up in the bed, but the sudden movement caused a sharp pain in his temples as his blood pressure dropped, and he eased himself back down. He turned his head sideways to look at her while he spoke. “Nothing! Why?”

“You seemed to be recovering well and I thought it best you get some rest.”

“What? Wait a minute. You mean I haven't even been given antibiotics yet?” He looked down at the bandages over his stump and their muted rainbow of malodorous discharge.

She looked at him blankly.

“This is preposterous!”

“Do you want something to drink?”

“Something to—” He started, but had to stop when a bolt of pain shot through his head. One of his eyes itched and he scratched at it, the finger coming away with a copious amount of viscous, mustard-colored goop.

Frustrated and scared, he held the finger out towards her, taking satisfaction in her shock as her eyes opened wider while she backed up, but at the same time, realizing that he was not in capable hands.

“Where exactly did you study medicine?”

“I…” She broke off as though receiving new instructions from her brain. “Look, I can see now that you've got an infection. It hasn't been that long since you were bitten. Let me give you something for it.”

“Like what,
Doctor
?”

“Well, this is an unusual case since I've never treated anyone who was bitten by a dinosaur before, but—”

“Look, I don't have time for this bullshit. Do you have any broad spectrum antibiotics in here? That'll at least take care of the bacterial stuff. I hope.” Clearly, if he was going to survive this, he would have to take matters into his own hands.

“That's just it, Mr. Ramirez. We…”

“
Doctor
Ramirez.”

“What?”

“I’m a Ph.D.”

“Oh. Right.
Doctor
Ramirez, my bad.”

Marcus sighed. “So at least there's one actual doctor in the room, right?”

She blushed, but chose to ignore the accusation by continuing the conversation. “As I was saying, Dr. Ramirez, whatever came out of that ancient lake wasn't meant to interact with modern biology. I have no idea what to treat it with. No one does, how could they?”

“Consider that later. Now, let's start with the antibiotics. Where are they in here?” He looked around the room as his son had done, reading the labels on the cabinets. Only he found that his vision was failing him. He could still see for the first few feet, but beyond that, everything got blurry. While Veronica walked to a cabinet and opened it, Marcus continued.

“Setting aside for the moment the era of the biology that's infected me, what I want to know is how could
any
era's biology explain how a complex, multi-cellular animal could not only be alive after all this time, but alive without major organs?”

His excitement at the uniqueness of the situation proved too much for his frail body and he vomited down the side of the cot—a yellow substance streaked with green, so foul-smelling it caused Veronica to retch.

“Here! I found some!” The degree of surprise Veronica displayed at actually finding a common medicine in her own infirmary only solidified Marcus' fears, but right now, he needed antibiotics.

“Great. Bring them here, please.”

She brought him two bottles of pills, presenting them both to him so that he could make his own choice. Marcus read the labels and picked one. She opened it for him, gave him a cup of water and he downed twice as much as the recommended dosage.

Then he lay back on the cot again, the exertion of sitting up for the pills having worn him out. He looked over at Veronica, who was staring at the streak of weird-colored puke dripping onto the linoleum floor, but all he could think of now was one thing.

“Where's my son?”

17.

Aboard Oil Tanker Hammond-1, En route to Adranos Island

Alex backed away from the porthole above the cargo hold, which afforded him a position to look down on his father and Veronica. He waited until the men arrived with the stretcher, and then he stepped away, further out into the bitter wind and the cold.

He stood there on the deck, shivering, unsure of what to do next. He felt change in the air temperature though, just enough. It had warmed slightly as they escaped the frigid Antarctic zone, but now the winds swirled angrily and collided with a warmer front from the north. The stars were swallowed up with a thicker darkness and ribbons of lightning streaked in the distance.

Storm coming
, he worried. Still hesitating, he pulled up his hood, glanced around, and ducked farther into the shadows, behind an exhaust vent, and waited.

He didn’t have to wait long, as Xander emerged shortly, carrying a small leather bag. Inside, Alex knew, were the blood samples from the
T. rex
, and from his father.

Follow the blood, or follow his dad?

Alex shivered. The fake doctor—as much as he didn’t trust her skills—at least was on the right side of this mess. He could trust her with his father, but this Xander…Alex needed to know what he was really up to, and why he wanted to test that blood. Certainly, it wasn’t out of concern for his father, so there must be something more sinister and far-reaching at work. Alex needed to find that out, and fast. His time was running out—and possibly his father’s as well.

Xander ducked his head into the wind and strode right past Alex’s hiding spot.

Hood up, Alex followed at a safe distance, not concerned about the noise his boots were making on the slick metal stairs, as the biting wind drowned out everything but its own insistent howling. Xander made his way efficiently to his cabin, #412, but as he unlocked the door, he was met by the captain coming from the opposite direction. The big hulking figure, having lost his coat and braving the winds with just a turtleneck, seemed to have something urgent to impart to his newest passenger, and Alex, turning and blending back with the shadows, waited for an opportunity.

He’d only get one shot, and as it was, this would be beyond crazy, but really, given the stakes, his father’s condition and everything Alex had done already that had all but ensured his fate, couldn’t get any worse, why not risk everything? A moment later, as Xander followed the captain a short distance away, where the big man pointed at aft over the railing and shouted something Alex could barely make out as related to the approaching storm, he moved swiftly. Ducking inside #412, Alex gave the quarters a quick glance-over: desk and laptop, cooling unit and flat screen TV, bed and closets…

He had to move fast, hearing the clanging of a pair of returning footsteps, and chose the farthest set of closet doors. Nothing inside except hangars and a safe, Alex ducked in, closed the door and crouched low in the shadows, peeking through the louvers just as Xander stormed inside his cabin. The door closed behind him and Xander placed the black bag on his desk, and then tapped some keys on his laptop before he shrugged out of his coat and kicked it to the floor.

I should have done the same,
Alexander mused from his hiding spot. Still breathing heavy, he felt overheated in the warm cabin. Soon, he’d be sweating and having more trouble breathing. Xander better make this quick and get back outside—or take a leak so Alex could get those samples and get out.

He realized it was better than nothing, but hopefully, he’d learn something first, and Xander didn’t disappoint. All business, he went to a cabinet, opened it up, and came back with a supply bag—and a case he must have brought along. Inside, Alex recognized the device—a centrifuge, and then a microscope came out.

Okay boss, get to work.

#

Xander completed the first round of analysis, focusing on the slide with Marcus’s sample. Better to ascertain whether he had been infected with anything first, before checking out the
T. rex
blood. God only knew how he was going to figure anything out there, not being a paleo-biologist. If such a thing even existed. Hell, probably the only one who could really figure that out right now would be the guy whose blood was on the slide, and he was in no condition to help.

Suddenly, a Skype window popped up, and DeKirk’s face leered back at him.

Damn that connection,
Xander thought, wishing the storm the captain warned him about was already here and blocking the satellite linkup.

“Xander?”

“Yes sir, no results yet. Give me a minute, please!”

“We don’t have that luxury of time. I’m tracking that storm too, and I don’t want excuses—or blackouts. What have you got?”

Xander shrugged and looked into the eyepiece after taking a drop from the centrifuge sample. “Well, as you said, I’m not equipped here with the facilities to properly analyze, but I should be able to…”

He dropped off and his mouth hung open.

“Xander?”

He stared and stared, then pulled his eye away. Blinked and looked back to the screen and DeKirk. “We’ve got a serious problem.”

#

Alex heard all that and had to hold himself back. He wanted to burst out from his spot, tackle Xander and run for his dad, but he needed to listen. Xander was rambling non-stop, in a frightened voice, about some kind of cellular breakdown and simultaneous infection from the invading cells that strengthened the existing structures—while apparently feeding off of them. Something about energy manipulation and strangulation of mitochondrial forces.

Whatever it all amounted to, this conflict of prehistoric DNA meshing with modern genetics, the billionaire guy on the other end seemed thrilled by it all. He stopped Xander in a few places to ask more specifics, then he cut him off altogether.

“The
T. rex
sample! Load that in and let’s see if it bears the same virus markers.”

Xander shook his head. “What are you talking about? Didn’t you hear me, what we just saw was the
T. rex
’s living cells, transferred through the bite, and they were attacking—”

“I’m not sure you’re qualified to make that conclusion.”

“But…”

“Just load up the slide, hook up the imager, and let me see and download the visuals.”

Xander grumbled, but did as he was told. “I don’t know what you’re looking for. It’s not as if…” Then he paused, thinking, and suddenly moved faster, switching out the slides and drawing up the new samples. “Shit. You might be right. The lack of its heart, the continued mobility. Cellular energy self-sustaining… Jesus, what if—?”

Alex got a glimpse now of the laptop screen, and saw the man on it nodding. “Now,” said the billionaire, “you’re reaching the shore I already landed on minutes ago. You see the potential?”

Xander nodded and straightened his shoulders before prepping the slide for a visual inspection. “We’ve gone from a monumental discovery of an extinct specimen, a collector’s piece and find of the century for sure, to a potential biological… I don’t know what to call it. The uses are staggering. A cure…?”

“For mortality,” DeKirk said. “Perhaps, but certainly…”

“
A weapon,
”
Xander whispered. “A terrifying weapon.”

#

He fit the slide in and gave it a look. Unrecognizable prehistoric biology for sure, but similar cellular structures as he’d expect. Biology was biology, especially when it came to reptiles and mammals, once you ignored the general size and shape differences and compared things only on a microscopic level.

This… this still wasn’t right. The virus—for that’s surely what it was—was present here too, except much more advanced. Parasitic almost, grafted to the sub-cellular structures of the
T. rex’s
DNA. Xander absently plugged in the adapter so DeKirk could reach the same conclusion, but first…

Something else had been bothering him. From the moment he had walked into the cabin. Something not right, and then he saw it.

On the rug, alongside the wet indentations of his own boots—another set, faint, but he could just make them out now, drying in the heat.

Another set of prints, leading to the closet.

He wasn’t alone.

Reaching back into the bag with his equipment, his grip settled on a silenced 9mm. He had a feeling he knew who had tracked him in here. That doctor…something wasn’t right about her, and he had a feeling he had seen her before. A feeling he would have acted on if not for the mayhem in the cargo hold.

Well, he’d remedy that mistake right now.

“Hang on Mr. DeKirk. Something I need to take care of while you study our friend’s blood sample.”

#

Before he knew it, Xander was at the door and Alex could only brace himself. One chance. Based on the angle and his positioning, he might get the edge.

The closet door ripped open and a gun barrel aimed, but Xander met his eyes and had a moment of shock.
Not who he thought
, Alex realized, just as he understood that gave him a split-second advantage. While Xander hesitated, he launched himself up and under Xander’s aim.

He struck, thrusting the top of his head into Xander’s chin and hearing the satisfying thunk as the man was knocked backward. Alex landed hard on him, rose up, and threw another punch to the face before Xander could recover.

Hoping that knocked him senseless, at least for a moment, Alex jumped to his feet, got to the desk and slapped the laptop off it in one clean motion, hoping DeKirk didn’t get a good look at who was now messing up the works. Alex considered the bag and the blood samples, grabbed both, turned, and raced out the door—

—right into the chest of the Captain, rounding the corner. It was like smashing into a rock wall. Alex bounced off, staggered. The captain’s eyes widened with surprise, then anger when they flashed to Xander, struggling to rise off the floor.

Alex swore, turned and slipped through the door and started to run when a big hand caught his hood from behind and yanked him backwards.

He landed on his back.

“Hey, wait a sec…” he started, but a huge fist slammed down between his eyes and everything went black.