Altar of Eden (31 page)

Under a pall of black anger, Duncan hiked toward the isolated deep-water cove. A boathouse sat over the water, and a rocky quay ran out to the moored seaplane, a small Cessna workhorse. The setting sun had turned the cove to hammered bronze.

Far from the fighting, the peace of this small oasis calmed him, helped him put his thoughts and plans in order.

He carried a backpack filled with cash and gold coins that he’d taken from Bennett’s safe. He’d planned on safeguarding it until they were all back in the States.

But those plans had swiftly changed.

As he had trekked over the ridge from the main cove to this smaller one, he had watched Bennett’s helicopter take off from the hilltop. Satisfied that all was secure, Duncan had continued down—then seconds later, a resounding blast had echoed over the island.

He had turned in time to see the chopper tip on its nose, stirring up a cloud of smoke. Debris rained down, trailing fire. Then the helicopter plummeted in a death spiral and crashed back to the hilltop.

The site continued to glow like a warning beacon in the night.

Duncan understood that fiery message.

It was over.

Bennett and Malik should have been aboard that flight, along with all hope for restarting the Babylon Project. He didn’t know why the chopper blew: a grenade, another rocket, or just an unlucky spray of bullets.

It didn’t matter.

Duncan took the new reality in stride. He was a survivor and had the scars to prove it. With over a hundred grand in cash and gold on his back, he’d start over. He had originally planned to use the seaplane to bomb the fishing charter. He even had a satchel bomb slung over his shoulder.

As he reached the rocky shore he let it drop, abandoning it. It no longer mattered if the other boat escaped the coming detonation. He would be long gone before any word reached the outside world.

All that concerned him now was getting the hell off this rock.

He crossed toward the stone quay, picking up his pace.

He still had five minutes. Plenty of time to fly out of the cove and beyond the blast radius. But he didn’t want to cut it too close.

He reached the stone jetty and hurried down it.

But as he neared the boathouse something raised the hairs on his neck. He stopped. As if knowing the trap had been sensed, a sleek shape stalked from behind the boathouse. It stood as tall as his waist. Black fur bristled down its back, ending at a bushy tail. Orange-red eyes glowed at him.

Duncan recognized it as one of the giant foxes from the other island.

Black ghosts,
one of his men had named them.

He reached to his belt and pulled out his pistol, refusing to give in to panic. He aimed and fired. But the monster lived up to its nickname and flowed to the side.

Rounds sparked off the stone.

Duncan backed away, but there was no safety in that direction. The island was about to blow. He stopped. His brain urged him to run at the beast, emptying the clip at it. He had to reach the seaplane. But his heart quailed against running
at
the carnivorous beast.

Sweat beaded, and his hands grew slick.

He had no choice.

Duncan steadied his pistol with both hands, arms straight out. Bunching his legs, he sprinted straight at the monster. He squeezed the trigger again and again.

Some rounds missed, but a few struck home.

A front leg shattered under a bullet, lurching the beast to the side. Another round blasted through its left ear. Yet another struck it square in the chest. The beast toppled over on its side. He didn’t stop firing. He emptied his clip into it.

Duncan continued at full sprint, ready to hurdle the body.

From there, it was only steps to the seaplane.

Then something heavy struck him from behind and sent him crashing headlong into the stones. He took the brunt of the fall on his shoulder by turning at the last moment. A large shadow bounded past him.

Another of the foxes.

He immediately understood their hunting strategy. The first fox had been a decoy, allowing the other to take him down from behind. He stared at his attacker as it loped and turned toward him.

Duncan discarded the one clip and slapped in another.

But he had learned his lesson.

He remembered there had been
three
foxes on the other island.

He whipped around and found the last fox standing directly behind him, eyes shining. It lunged before he could fire. It bit into his wrist. Bones crunched. The pistol dropped from his fingers.

Duncan punched with his free arm.

But the beast had latched on hard.

The second fox joined the attack, running up and snapping like a bear trap onto his leg. The two monsters then backed in opposite directions, stretching him like a wishbone. His shoulder and hip joints screamed as the ligaments in the sockets tore. They were trying to tear him apart.

Again he was wrong.

A shadow loomed next to him. It was the third fox, still alive. It limped on its three good legs. Blood flowed from the gunshot wounds.

He realized the tug-of-war was not meant to tear his limbs off, but to hold him steady.

The third fox snarled, baring sharp teeth as long as fingers.

No . . .

It dove into his exposed belly. Teeth ripped through clothes, skin, and muscle. Then burrowed deeper. He felt teeth
inside
him.

They were going to eat him alive.

But yet again he was wrong.

The fox backed away, withdrawing its muzzle, soaked in blood. But the beast hadn’t come out without a prize. It retreated step-by-step, dragging out a loop of intestine, relentlessly gutting him. Agony and terror welled up.

Duncan finally understood the truth.

There was a horror beyond his worst nightmare.

The foxes hadn’t come to eat him.

They’d come to play.

Lorna burst out of the villa and sprinted across the patio toward the expanse of beach. She had found what she needed in the lab. Behind her, the strange army of beasts followed, as if drawn by her urgency.

She spotted the others at the water’s edge.

Two Zodiac rafts floated in the shallows. Children were being loaded into the boats while Jack’s two teammates hauled his limp form.

Was he still alive?

She ran faster, knowing time was running out.

As she reached the edge of the beach something snagged her wrist and hauled her around to stop. All that kept her on her feet was the viselike grip on her arm.

The scarred male hominid had hold of her. She tried to yank her arm away, but his grip was iron. He twisted her around. She was ready to scream for help—when a shape stepped from behind a flowering bush. It was another of the hominids. The female. Her breasts were huge, her belly still big. Only she carried an infant in her arms now, a newborn from the look of it. She had swaddled it in a banana leaf.

It was Eve’s child.

The woman had given birth.

The female came to her and held out her baby. Lorna shook her head, not understanding. Eve came closer, pushing the baby into her arms.

“No . . .”

The male shoved Lorna roughly from behind.

Eve’s eyes pleaded with her.

Lorna finally raised her arms and took the child. Eve turned and hid her face in her mate’s chest. He waved Lorna toward the beach, toward the boats.

They wanted her to take the child.

She backed a step, shifted the tiny baby under one arm. She motioned to them. “Come with us.”

Her plea fell on deaf ears. The pair retreated together, back toward the forest. The other beasts followed.

Lorna stumbled after them. “It’s not safe! Come with me!”

The male turned and snarled at her, making it plain the discussion was over. Eve glanced back before vanishing into the shadows. Tears flowed down her face, but Lorna also read the peace in her expression.

There would be no changing their minds.

“Lorna!” Kyle had spotted her and waved. “Hurry up!”

With no choice, Lorna cradled the child to her bosom and ran for the rafts.

Kyle waited and helped her through the shallows. He frowned at her burden. “Is that a baby?”

Lorna ignored him. She waded over to Jack’s boat. Half the children were there, along with Bennett. She passed the child up to the older man as she climbed into the boat with them.

Bennett lifted a questioning eyebrow.

“Eve’s child,” she explained.

Bennett’s eyes widened as he glanced down at the baby. The other children gathered closer.

The Zodiac’s pilot gunned the outboard engine and tore away from the beach. The other raft followed. The water in the cove was as smooth as glass. The boats took advantage and gathered speed, shooting across the surface.

The fishing charter had already begun steaming away and had almost cleared the cove.

Lorna turned to Jack’s sprawled body. The larger of his two companions sat with his slack form in the bottom of the boat.

“He’s still breathing,” the man growled. “For now.”

She placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. Even through his clothes, she felt the feverish heat of his body. He continued to quake under her touch, locked in a continual seizure. It was burning him up.

Before she could get a better assessment of his condition, a rumbling shook across the still waters of the cove.

“Hang on!” the pilot yelled.

Lorna turned as the villa blew apart, shattering outward in a massive explosion, most of it vaporizing into a thick black column of smoke. The column pushed high into the sky, glowing at the core with hellish fires. A hot wind washed over them as they raced away.

But it wasn’t over.

A secondary blast erupted, even stronger than the first. The entire top of the hill blew off this time, shoving the smoky column higher, curling it into a fiery mushroom cloud. Debris pounded into the water, some boulders as large as minivans. But the two rafts had fled far enough away. All that reached them was a large swell.

It picked up their boat and sped them even faster out to sea.

Lorna continued to stare as the island burned.

She finally turned to the pilot, fearing for Jack. She had never taken her hand off him. “I need to get him over to that ship.”

What she intended was too dangerous to attempt here.

She prayed it wasn’t already too late.

Bennett stared over at her. “What are you going to do with him? Like I said, no one’s ever survived.”

“Duncan did.”

Bennett was taken aback by her statement.

Lorna needed to talk it through. “You said he was attacked back in Iraq, by one of the earlier incarnations of these altered forms. But he survived. So what made him different?”

Bennett shook his head.

“You told me Duncan’s injuries were so severe that he spent a week in a
coma.
That’s the difference. This deadly protein hyperexcites the brain. So the only way a brain could protect itself during such an assault was to turn itself off until the infection ran its course. I think that’s why Duncan never got sick.”

Bennett frowned. “Then what are you going to do with Jack.”

Lorna took a deep breath and stared over at the larger boat. Stating it aloud made it seem insane, but she had to face it.

She turned to Jack and answered Bennett’s question.

“I’m going to send him into a medically induced coma.”

“You’re going to do
what
to my brother?”

Randy’s voice cracked with disbelief.

Lorna followed Jack’s body down into the ship’s hold. Mack carried him in his arms. His other teammate was receiving first aid for a bullet wound. The captain had offered Lorna the use of his cabin.

Randy dogged her steps. As Jack’s only kin here, she had confided in him. He had a right to know, but from his terrified expression, maybe such honesty wasn’t appreciated.

“I’m going to drug him,” Lorna said. “Send him into a coma and keep him there until a medevac helicopter arrives.”

The ship had already radioed for help, but it would take hours for anyone to reach them. Jack would be dead by then. She had confirmed the prognosis with Bennett. Once the seizures started, patients died within the hour.

It had to be attempted.

Randy reached to his forehead, as if looking to adjust a ball cap that wasn’t there. His eyes shone with worry.

Kyle followed behind him. “My sister knows what she’s doing.”

Randy turned on him. “She’s a vet!”

“And a darned good one!”

They reached the captain’s cabin. Mack manhandled Jack inside.

Out in the hall, Lorna turned to them. “Randy, you should stay out here. I promise I’ll do everything I can to save him.”

Randy faced her, balanced between fury and fear. He lunged at her. She took a startled step back. But he only grabbed her in a bear hug.

“Take care of my little brother,” he whispered in her ear, biting back tears. He straightened. “I know there’s bad blood between our families. But Jack trusts you. So I do, too.”

Lorna nodded.

Kyle took Randy’s shoulder. “Wanna beer while we wait?”

Randy sagged, nodded, and turned with Kyle back toward the stairs.

Lorna joined Mack in the captain’s cabin. The big man had Jack sprawled across the bed.

“Need a hand?” he asked.

“I could use the company,” she said, smiling wanly, not wanting to be alone.

He sank to the bed beside Jack’s head. She placed the drug bottle down on the bedside table. It was labeled
sodium thiopental.
She had taken it from the Malik’s surgical supplies. It was a common anesthetic used in animals, and considering Malik’s research, she knew the lab would have a supply.

But she intended to do more than just anesthetize Jack with it.

For years, thiopental had also been used by medical doctors to send patients into an induced coma. Though the drug propofol was employed more commonly today, thiopental was still useful in cases of brain trauma or swelling. The drug triggered a marked decrease in neuronal activity, which was the effect Lorna needed most right now.

Jack’s brain was on overdrive.

She had to turn that engine off.

Working quickly, she prepped Jack’s arm and established a tourniquet. Ready, she picked up a syringe that she had preloaded with the thiopental.

She met Mack’s gaze over his body.

“You can do this,” he said.

Swallowing back her fear, she inserted the needle, aspirated blood to make sure she had a good stick, then released the tourniquet.

Slowly she pushed the plunger and sent the man she was growing to love into a coma.

HALF AN HOUR
later, Lorna stood on the stern deck of the ship. Mack continued to watch over Jack. She had needed to get some air. At least for a minute. Her body trembled with exhaustion and stress.

Standing by the rail, she took deep breaths and stared out at the dark sea. Stars glistened overhead, but the moon had not yet risen.

The scratch of a match made her jump.

She turned and found Bennett seated on a deck chair. Lost in her own thoughts, she had failed to see him in the dark. He brought the match to his pipe. The tobacco glowed ruddily as he puffed it to life. He stood up and joined her.

“How’s he doing?”

Lorna sighed. “I don’t know. His fever’s dropped. The anesthetic has quieted his spasms. But I don’t know if he’s still even in there. He’s been seizing for a long time.”

Bennett exhaled a stream of smoke. “You’re doing all you can do.”

They stood quietly for a long moment.

She needed to change the subject. “How’s the baby?”

“Sleeping. We found some formula. The captain’s wife has a four-month-old. Lucky for that.” Bennett turned to her. “Eve’s baby is a little girl, by the way.”

“How about the rest of the children?”

“They’re all sleeping in there with her. I think they recognize one of their own and want to welcome her into the fold. Or maybe it’s just plain childish curiosity. Hard to say.”

Silence stretched again, but Bennett was full of questions.

“Why do you think Eve gave her up?” he asked.

Lorna had pondered the same question. She couldn’t say for sure, but she could guess. “I think it’s the same reason they let us go . . . or rather let the children go.”

“What do you mean?”

“The baby’s pure. It’s neural net is still infantile. I think back at the villa the older ones recognized that the children were equally uncorrupted. In that moment of confrontation, the two hive minds met. One was pure and innocent, while the other had been tortured into psychosis. I think the older hive mind recognized that the younger ones were lost to them, that they could only offer poison and pain.”

She remembered the agony and grief in Adam when one of the little ones had offered his hand.

“So they did the only thing they could,” she said. “As a final gift and sacrifice, they let them go.”

“What about afterward? Do you think they knew they were going to be killed?”

She pictured Eve’s last expression. It had been full of peace and acceptance. “I think they did.”

Bennett spent a long introspective moment with his pipe. He finally got around to the true question that had been troubling him.

“Why did they protect me? It doesn’t make sense. The monsters were going to kill me.”

“You may know that answer better than I.”

He stared at her. Tears glinted in his eyes. He needed some direction. She didn’t know if he deserved it, but she took her example from the kids.

“They protected me, too,” she said. “Though they can’t bond to us as intimately as they can with each other, I think they possess a strong sense of empathy. They sensed something in you worth saving.”

“But what could that be? All that I did . . . all that I turned a blind eye to . . . and sometimes not even a blind eye.”

He shook his head.

“I don’t know. I can’t read your heart. But maybe they recognized the possibility of redemption in you. And amid all that bloodshed, they couldn’t let it be destroyed.”

Bennett turned from her. He covered his face with his hands. His shoulders shook.

“What have I done?” he sobbed softly.

“That’s just it. It’s not what you did, but what you have yet to do.”

As those words passed her lips she took them to heart herself. For so long, she’d let her past define her, to isolate her, to keep her trapped in a limbo of her own guilt. No longer. Jack’s last words came back to her.

Tom’s gone.

It was time for her to truly see that, to act on it.

She prayed she still had the chance.