Separation (28 page)

“See for yourself,” he said and pointed at
the screen.

“Move away from the computer—slowly,” Allenby
commanded, breathing heavily.

Doing so, Harry spotted the tiny form of Leo
creeping by. He’d gone over to the power cables and started to gnaw
on them. Smart... cutting the power would stop the enemy, at least
temporarily. Another shadow crept past, but he couldn’t make it
out.

His attention, though, swiveled back to
Allenby when the man-monster gave a grunt of dissatisfaction and
stood up. “That’s the best you can do?”

“If you can do better, go ahead. I still
remember the goat guy.”

With an almost arrogant motion, Allenby
snapped his fingers and three of the snake-men lined up. “Shoot the
woman,” he commanded.

“You scumbag,” Harry cried and launched
himself at Allenby. Claws out, he aimed true and stabbed him in his
right eye, which elicited a scream. “How do you like that?”

A strangled reply greeted his question.
“You’ll pay for this!”

The monster fell back, holding onto his face.
For a moment, all the combatants in the room stood as still as
statues, waiting for someone to make a move.

Anastasia broke the silence. “If there’s any
paying to be done,” she offered, her teeth exposed in a snarl,
“then you’re the one who’s going to pay up. You threatened me, my
husband, and my baby.”

Tensing her body, she hunched her shoulders
forward as if ready to unleash hell. “And
no
one threatens
my baby.”

An instant later, she whipped her tail
around, striking one of the goat-men on the side of the head and
sending him sprawling. She then grabbed the other man and
effortlessly launched him into his snake comrades, scattering them
like bowling pins. The minion holding Istvan dropped him and the
pig-man ran off, squealing.

“Kill them,” cried Allenby. His eye had
already healed. “Kill them all!”

The goat-men then attacked in force, forming
a circle around Harry, their fists curled into hammers.

Suddenly, a sharp snap sounded—like the sound
of an electrical circuit being interrupted—and like a theater
curtain dropping, the lights went out. Once darkness fell, Harry
used it to launch himself at the goat things who were blundering
around in the dark. Their eyes apparently couldn’t adapt as
quickly. No time for subtlety. Claws out, he swiped at their
throats, tearing them out, and they fell.

Swiveling around to check on the whereabouts
of his wife, he saw her ten feet away, busily ripping through the
other creations. “Get Allenby!” she shouted.

An emergency generator must have been set up,
for the lights suddenly came on. Allenby emerged from behind one of
the machines, holding onto Leo with his spider arms, squeezing him
until he squeaked in agony. “Please...” he whispered in a voice
choked with agony.

“This little rat bit through my power lines,
but he has only served to interrupt my progress,” Allenby snarled.
“See what your interference has wrought and live with the
memory!”

Oh god, please don’t do it!
“Let him
go,” Harry cried.

A chuckle greeted his entreaty. Allenby
heartlessly crushed the little mole-man’s body and tossed him away.
“He’s only slowed me down. He won’t slow me down again.”

With a wave of his monstrous arms, he curled
his fists and pawed the ground, like a bull getting ready to
charge.

Cue given, in a rage Harry leaped at him,
clawing at his face. Anastasia also joined in, and together they
slashed, punched and kicked at their adversary. It was like hitting
a brick wall. They could smash it all they liked, but it had no
effect. Allenby covered up, took the punishment, and lashed out
with a shot that sent Harry crashing over a table ten feet
away.

Spitting and hissing, Anastasia went for the
monster’s throat, seemingly the only vulnerable spot on his body.
With one of his massive arms, he grabbed her around her neck,
throttling her. “Your child will be an aberration, and I declare
that I will rid the world of it,” he bellowed.

Hunting around for a weapon against this
lab-created titan, Harry found a glass beaker lying on the ground.
A quick glance at the writing told him it would do.

“Declare this,” he yelled, and tossed the
container at the monster. The glass shattered and liquid splashed
on his face. Instantly, his skin, tough though it was, began to
bubble, and his protective bony covering began to melt.
“Concentrated acid—you like it?”

Allenby howled and let go of Anastasia, who
fell gasping to the ground. “Stay there,” Harry called out. “This
thing is mine!”

Following up his advantage, Harry attacked
head on, alternating slashes to Allenby’s midsection with punches
to his now-exposed eyes and nose. Gradually, his attack showed
results. Allenby fell back and his defenses came down, but he still
had enough strength to grab Harry around his midsection with his
multiple arms and began to squeeze. His charred and burning skin
also began to knit, and his eyes shone with a blood-red
madness.

“You are weak. You are nothing to me. I’m
going to be a god, and neither you nor your bitch wife will stand
in my way!”

“You forgot one thing,” Harry choked out.
Lungs on fire and heart pounding, spots appearing in front of his
eyes, he summoned up an inner strength and rammed his claws into
his opponent’s neck. “Even gods bleed.”

A horrid gasp came from Allenby and he let
go, slumping down to one knee. Harry fell back, feeling as though
his ribs had been caved in. A second later, his opponent let out a
triumphant laugh as though he’d just circumvented death. In fact,
he had, as the slashes on his throat closed within milliseconds. “I
can’t be beaten and I won’t be beaten,” he said.

Moving forward in an impossibly fast rush, he
body-checked Harry into the far wall. Harry heard the crunch of his
bones as his body hit the rock and he sagged down, nerves inactive.
Anastasia dragged herself over. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

“I’ll let you know when the world stops
spinning.”

It might have come across as playful banter,
but Allenby didn’t bother to glance in their direction. Instead, he
turned to one of the computers, still running, and began to type.
“This,” he said, “will be the crowning achievement to my legacy. I
give you... my impending godhood.”

Task over, he walked over to the large
chamber. “I have already injected myself with the entire range of
DNA genomes. With this, I leave humanity behind and become the new
face of what can be.”

The chamber door closed, the lights dimmed,
and in less time than thought possible, the door opened and Allenby
emerged. It wasn’t him, though, but something else. The arms had
disappeared, and so had the bony armature. “How do you like me
now?” he asked.

Harry focused his eyes on the figure before
him. Apparently, his calculations had been correct and he cursed
himself for it. No longer a monster, Allenby had grown in height
and now stood nearly seven feet tall. He had the physique of a
bodybuilder’s bodybuilder, every muscle huge and yet delicately
shaped as though an invisible chisel had been taken to carve out
each line and groove. “I... rule,” Allenby said. “I have power now,
more than I ever imagined.”

To prove it, he leaped up in the air a good
forty feet and landed again without a sound. He then walked over to
the wall and proceeded to pound on it, his fists, the size of large
hams, bashing holes in it with little effort.

“I am perfect. I have incredible strength,
and—”

“Are you bulletproof?”

A shot rang out and Allenby whirled around, a
look of surprise on his face. He then looked down at his chest and
put his finger to the hole where the bullet had just exited.
“Who...”

Overton stepped out from the shadows. “I
guess you’re not.”

He leveled the gun and shot Allenby three
more times in his chest, and Mr. Godlike Being sagged to the floor
without a sound.

Anastasia smiled. “How did you get here?”

The agent’s arrival shocked the hell out of
Harry as well, and he struggled to his feet. “I’m going to echo
what my wife said. How did you get here?”

“Leo showed me the way, and once we got
inside the perimeter, he tipped me off to where the defenses were.
I deactivated them. I have to tell you, getting down that cable was
murder.” He glanced up at the ceiling. “I don’t know if I could
climb up again.”

“I thought you FBI guys were in terrific
shape,” Harry opined, going for sarcasm and getting it.

“Not me.”

A voice spoke from the floor, interrupting
the moment of playful banter. Allenby wasn’t dead, not quite yet.
“You haven’t deactivated all of my toys.” He crawled over to the
computer, tapped a few keys, and then smashed it with his fist.
“Say hello to your own personal Armageddon. This place will explode
in thirty seconds. I rigged charges to the elevator, so don’t
bother using it.”

“Time to go,” Anastasia said as she scooped
up Istvan and made for the wall. In a series of quick movements,
she shinnied her way up and soon disappeared over the edge.

Overton looked at Harry. “I don’t think you
can carry me.”

“Let’s find out.”

Harry hauled the man over his shoulders and
followed his wife’s lead. Climbing proved to be difficult, as
Overton weighed considerably more than Istvan did. The first charge
went off just after he’d clambered over the ledge, and then the
second and third charges went off in sequence.

“I can run,” Overton said, and took off.

Lingering for a last look, Harry witnessed
the destruction of someone’s mad dream. Each of the Genesis
Chambers exploded, taking their gestated monsters to a special
hell.

And then there was Leo, who’d given his life.
Harry truly regretted the passage of his friend, but right now he
didn’t have time to mourn.

He ran, the heat of the fire practically
scorching the fur off his back. Once they reached the surface,
Harry slammed the door shut and dragged a few heavy pieces of
timber over to block it off, just in case anyone from below tried
to get out. He wasn’t sure Allenby hadn’t made yet another escape,
but decided not to take any chances.

Anastasia sat down, and drew her arm across
her forehead. “Can we go home now?” she asked.

Overton lay on his back, sucking wind. “I
second the motion.”

Surveying their handiwork, Harry nodded.
“Yeah, I think we can. Let’s go home.”

Before filing a report, Harry, along with his wife
and Istvan, paid a visit to an old friend. At the hospital, Farrell
lay sleeping, covered by a wrinkled white sheet, an oxygen tube in
his nose. He’d always been thin, but the past three weeks he’d
grown thinner still as the illness consumed him. A certain shroud
hung in the air.

Harry recognized it right away. It was the
veil of impending death. He’d sensed the same thing when his father
had been stricken by cancer, and now it was back again.

Farrell’s eyes slowly opened, and he smiled.
“Glad you made... made it, kid,” he managed to rasp out.

Harry grabbed his hand and squeezed it as if
to lend his strength, while Anastasia went to the opposite side of
his bed and grasped Farrell’s other hand. “Thanks to you, we got
Istvan out,” she said. “You got that plane for us.”

“You needed the transportation. I called in a
few favors.” Farrell’s voice came out as a whisper. It still
carried enough strength in it, though, to convey meaning. “I need
to talk to Harry—alone. Please.”

Bestowing a kiss on his forehead along with a
soft, “Thank you,” she escorted Istvan out of the room. The door
closed softly behind them.

“Glad you’re still here,” Harry said, trying
to fight back tears and not succeeding. He hastily wiped them
away.

“Don’t worry about this,” Farrell replied as
his voice grew more authoritative. “And don’t cry. You’ve got to...
be strong.”

Harry decided to reiterate his offer. It was
now or never. “I, uh, I wanted to tell you about how we could help
you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’ve been working on my
computer simulations and—”

“Save it, kid.” Farrell’s voice got a note of
stubbornness in it and he struggled up to a sitting position,
waving off any attempts at assistance. “You mentioned it before and
I know what you’re going to say. Use a DNA combination to stave off
the cancer and then use the Genesis Chamber, correct?”

He’d known it all along, although anyone
could have figured it out. “You know it’s the right thing to do,”
Anastasia had said during their plane ride back from California.
“He’s our friend. We owe it to him to give him the same
chance.”

Nodding his head in agreement, Harry had gone
over the figures on a computer one last time. Yes, it would work.
There was no reason for it not to. His mind snapped back to the
present when Farrell tapped him on the forearm. “You know why I’m
saying no, don’t you?”

“It’s a chance,” argued Harry, desperate now
that the life seemed to be seeping out of every one of his mentor’s
pores.

“It’s not for me.” The agent’s voice carried
with it an air of calm, even one of inevitability. “I considered
the possibilities of regeneration a couple of months ago. Become
like you, Anastasia, or any of the transgenics out there.”

“It’s a chance for life.”

“It’s my choice,” stated Farrell, and his
voice grew hard. “I had my chance. I don’t want to die any more
than anyone else does, but I came into this world as a person and
want to go out as one. I did what I was supposed to do and no
more.”

God, this man was so obstinate, thought
Harry, and wanted to tear out his fur with exasperation. Was he
against the transformation due to prejudice, or was it something
else?