Separation (24 page)

The sound of the door opening and Josephine’s
voice jarred him back to reality. Jumping to his feet, he ran into
the living room where the old lady and a man in his late fifties
stood in the doorway, with Josephine hanging onto his forearm.

Tall, broad-shouldered, and dark skinned, the
man held a briefcase in his free hand and his eyes immediately grew
round. In a move straight out of a cartoon, his jaw practically
touched the floor. “Ma, you told me he was a person. You didn’t
tell me he was one of them.”

He just had to go there...

“Yeah, I’m one of them,” Harry answered,
feeling a sense of the old familiar kill-the-different from this
man. “And a bunch of you were after me not too long ago. And more
of
you
tried to smoke me out of a sewer.”

Ronald started to protest, but stopped when
his mother slapped his arm—hard. “He
is
one of us, son,” she
said in a firm voice that sounded both motherly and chiding. “He’s
one of us and he needs our help. He and his wife need our help, and
it’s our duty to do so. Now you get that computer of yours up and
running.”

Ronald threw a glance of uncertainty at his
mother, but the old lady stood with her hands on her hips the
expression on her face radiated control and command. He might have
been a large man, but against his mother he was mush.

“Fine, I’ll do this, but just this once.”
With a few quick movements, he hooked up the computer, turned it on
and was typing something quickly before he turned the laptop
around. “I’ve already entered the password, so feel free to type
away.”

“Thanks.”

Harry acknowledged the help with a nod and
got to work. Contacting Jason, he wondered if the police were
watching him. With Overton out of the picture, he had to rely on
the help of his two friends, Jason and Maze, but all the same, they
were probably being watched. He could not rely on the New York
Police Force, not anymore.
Jason, I’m on a different computer.
I’m hiding out with friends, and I need your help on tracking
Allenby.

The answer came back a few seconds later.
We’re still searching. Where are you?

Are you being watched?

Seconds ticked by... and then the answer
came.
The police asked us some questions when Maze and I left
the building, but Overton told them to knock it off. I’m home now.
My folks are having a hissy fit about all this. My computer is
clean, so don’t worry.
A pause in the typing, and then...
What’s happening with you?

They want me
Harry wrote. He thought
about what other information he could impart without his friend
getting into trouble.
You saw Allenby’s video. If I give myself
up, he’ll stop the attacks.

So... you don’t believe him?

Would you?

Rhetorical question or not, it hit home.
Yeah, you’re right. I wouldn’t
Jason wrote back.
I’m
still checking on where Anastasia might be. I have an idea... Maze
thinks the same way.

You’re talking about Lake Shasta, right?

That’s the place.

Lake Shasta lay in California, and how was he
going to get out there? He’d need a plane ride, and from his
studies he remembered Shasta being an immense area, well over four
million acres. It wasn’t a true lake, but a very large
reservoir.

A dam... and it had its own power source.
With all the electricity being used, it wouldn’t be too hard for
Allenby to power his machines. Checking on the facts, Harry spent
the next couple of minutes searching for the necessary information.
It was doubtful Allenby had set up shop within the dam itself, but
maybe he’d managed to siphon off the excess without being
detected...

Writing out a quick message to Jason, he
asked for precise directions.
I need to know exactly where the
spikes are coming from. They’re not coming from the dam, are
they?

No,
Jason wrote back.
They’re
coming from a point roughly three miles away... and they’re coming
from under the ground.

A second later, a map flashed on the screen.
Scrutinizing it, he saw that it lay in a park. Underground... Harry
remembered seeing labs underground in Hungary, Serbia, and Russia,
the last time he and Anastasia had tracked down a madman. Allenby
had to be there...

“Excuse me?”

Looking up, Ronald had a look of
what’s-going-on working overtime, and he whispered to his mother
“Is this going to come back to us?”

Harry overheard. “No, not if I leave right
now.”

The response made Ronald’s face turn red.
Harry ignored him for the moment and sat pecking away at the
keyboard. He told Jason he’d be leaving soon and would try to call
him as soon as possible.
Thanks for the directions. I’ll find
it.

Wondering if Jason’s computer had already
been tapped, he shut off the computer and unplugged it. “Thanks. I
have to be leaving now.”

“Where are you going?” asked Josephine. She
sounded most worried, and her voice had a catch to it.

Trying to keep her calm as well as not alarm
her son, Harry got up and knelt in front of her, his mind whirling,
mixing and matching all possibilities. A number of scenarios for
getting out of the city ran through his head. Each one of them
carried a certain amount of risk. “I don’t know. But I can’t put
you two in danger. I don’t know what the real killer will do. I’m
not even sure I know what the police will do. I think I should just
go.”

The touch of her hands to each side of his
face, gentle and light, calmed him down. She’d really learned to
judge distance, just from the sound of someone’s voice. “You said
you have to find your wife. And since you’re dead set on leaving my
nice house, where can you go?”

In essence, go west. “California, I need to
get to the west coast. She’s out there, Josephine. I have to find
her.”

“You will,” she answered, and then her voice,
soft and sweet, got a hint of iron in it. “Ronald, you go upstairs
and get this young man a hoodie and some shoes from your father’s
closet. They may not fit, but no one will be looking.”

Ronald began to protest, but cut his speech
short and walked up the stairs. Harry’s sharp ears heard a few
muffled curses along with the sound of drawers being opened and
emptied, but said nothing to Josephine save, “You don’t have to do
this.” A feeling of guilt hit him hard as if he was putting someone
out yet again.

“Nonsense,” she declared in a merry voice. “I
don’t get much excitement. And you need help. That’s why I’m here,
to help.”

She leaned over to embrace him, and Harry
hugged her back, knowing now there were still some decent people in
the world.

“I got these,” Ronald announced from the
bottom of the stairs. He held a black hoodie, long pants, and black
shoes in his hands. “These’ll do?”

“They’ll do fine. I just have to do one more
thing, and you’re clear.”

“And that is...”

It turned out to be two things. Harry first
placed a call to Overton’s private cellphone. “I need to go to Lake
Shasta Park. I need an airplane now.”

Overton told him to go to JFK and a private
plane would meet him there. “This is all off the books, Harry. You
saw the broadcast with the Chief of Police, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“The director in Washington ordered me to
turn you over, said something about national security and the
reputation of the FBI. I refused, saying I didn’t know where you
were. Farrell pulled the strings with someone he knows. Guy’s a
private pilot. He’ll take us out.”

At first, Harry didn’t know what to say.
Terminal illness and all, his mentor still had some clout, and
there was no way he could ever repay him.

As for Overton, he’d put his career on the
line, but before he could get a word out, the agent interrupted his
thoughts with, “Runway twelve, it’s a small gray Cessna called the
Lucky Lady. Hurry, we don’t have much time.”

Second, he needed a lift out to the airport,
and Ronald provided it. On the way, neither of them spoke, and
Harry slunk down in his seat so as not to be seen. The cops seemed
to be everywhere and he dared not show his face.

Fortunately, Ronald drove fast and with
precision and avoided most of the checkpoints. The ones that he
stopped at, the cops gave the vehicle a quick onceover and sent
them on their way.

After the last checkpoint, Ronald wiped the
sweat from his face. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not cut out
for this super spy business.” It seemed like an apt
description.

When they were roughly ten minutes from their
destination, he asked, “How did you meet my mother? She never told
me anything about you.”

His voice sounded wounded, as if he expected
everyone to confess to him. Sorry, life didn’t work that way. “My
girlfriend—she’s my wife now—and I were running away from a mob a
few months back,” said Harry as he inched up in his seat to take a
look out the window. No one was following them. “Your mother hid
us. You don’t forget something like that.”

“My mother’s always been like that.” A touch
of pride surfaced. “She was always helping the neighborhood kids
when we were growing up. That’s just how it was, you helped each
other.”

“Things are different now,” Harry pointed
out. “I mean, I’m not your average guy. I’ve got fur... lots of
it.”

A chuckle came from the older man. “Yeah, I
can see that.” He scanned the road as if expecting to be stopped,
but traffic was surprisingly light. “I’m sorry for getting all
surprised when we first met, but I’d never, you know—”

“Met my kind before?”

“Yeah, that, and also seeing what happened on
the news was more than scary.”

“You saw what happened in Manhattan?”

“Uh-huh.” Ronald muttered something under his
breath. It sounded like he was talking about trust, and finally he
grunted as if having come to a momentous decision. “At first, I
thought it was you or your lady, but after seeing how my mother
likes you, how she talks around you...” he shook his head. “There’s
no way you could be that bad.”

A sense of gratitude swept over Harry,
washing away the bitterness of the earlier encounter with lesser
minds. “I’d like to think most of us are pretty good.”

No other words passed between them for the
rest of the journey, but at the very least, honesty had been
observed. If there was to be peace or at least a détente between
human and transgenic side, honesty had to be a huge part of it.
“We’re here,” Ronald said as he pulled up to the edge of the
entrance. “You want me to park inside?”

“No, this is fine. Thanks.” Harry put out his
hand and the two men shook. “Thank your mother for me. She’s the
best.”

A grin came from the older man. “Yeah, she
certainly is.”

Exiting the car, Harry hopped over the
barrier and took a good look around. Policemen, lots of them, were
patrolling the area. Great... and he was a most convenient target.
Who’d be wearing a hoodie in the middle of summer and walking in a
highly guarded area?

Still, he had to take a chance. Luck was on
his side, though, and he dropped to all fours in order to appear
more like his animal genotype. Scouting around, he made out his
target, a gray Cessna with the words Lucky Lady in red paint boldly
stenciled on the side, just as Overton had said. He made for it,
and shouts of outrage came his way. “It’s him! Open fire!”

Seconds later, a volley of bullets whizzed
over his head, but he’d come too far to back out now. The door was
open... safety lay five feet ahead. Harry leaped at the last second
and fell into the cabin where Istvan sat calmly in his seat,
strapped in, and a plate of cheese and crackers in front of him. “I
hope you have no trouble getting here?”

“It was fun like a barrel of monkeys,” Harry
said while taking his own seat and putting on his safety belt.

“I do not understand.”

“Never mind, you don’t have to.”

Settling back to catch his breath, Harry
caught the scent again, the scent of the little mole-man. He
definitely had a thing for Italian food, and the delicate scent of
oregano was impossible to ignore. So was the fart that smelled like
garlic. Apparently, Istvan caught wind of him as well, for he
started in his seat and craned his neck around.

“He is here,” he whispered and a joyous
expression settled over his face and he pointed to the rear end of
the airplane. “Check in that overhead compartment, the third one on
the right.”

Harry walked over and opened the compartment,
and the burned and scarred visage of Leo greeted him. Harry grabbed
him and pulled him down to settle him in a seat gently. “You could
have come forward sooner.”

“I like to surprise people. You are
surprised, no?”

Overton certainly was, but he kept his
emotions in check as they winged their way westward. “You hid?”

“That is what I do best.”

Leo sat in his seat as a child would, with
his legs spread out and belly protruding. He munched his way
through three chocolate bars and some other snacks that had been
left onboard by previous users. “After explosion in Spanish
mountain, I see fire, so I dig my way underground. You no see me,
but I see you. I hang onto underside of your car and hide on
airplane back to America.”

It sounded unbelievable, but Harry was used
to the unbelievable by now. “So why didn’t you tell Overton or
anyone else before?”

A shrug came from the mole-man. “I no trust
like you do. I see other strange people like me. They are bad... I
hide from them. After fire go down, I come up from dirt and see
monster come from that egg you put me in before.”

Chamber... he was talking about the Genesis
Chamber, and the monster had to have been Allenby. Leo continued to
relate his tale, using his hands to underscore the dramatic points.
Once back in America, he hid out and trailed Harry every step of
the way. “I know your smell. You smell like good person. The
others... they do not.”