The Colony: A Novel (25 page)

“How do you know the colony hasn’t already spread?” Paul asked. “Are you prepared to bomb the whole Eastern seaboard?”

“Shut up,” Garrett said.

They reached the laboratory. It was empty and Garrett motioned them inside.

At first it seemed like Garrett was going to shoot them. He pointed the gun but then scanned the room for a moment, hesitating. “Get inside the closet—both of you.”

“Drop your weapon!” Agent Cameron swooped through the doorway, his Glock steady on Colonel Garrett.

Garrett froze, still holding the gun.

“I said drop it!”

“I believe I outrank you, Agent.”

“Not today. I just ran into General Dawson.”

Mayor Russo suddenly burst through the door behind Cameron, startling the agent.

Paul and Kendra barely ducked for cover as Garrett’s gun went off like a cannon. Cameron fell to the ground, firing six loud shots and remarkably hitting no one.

Cameron lay thrashing on the floor, bleeding across the front of his white shirt, while Garrett stood frozen, the gun in one hand and the queen still in his grip. Paul lurched for the colonel, who fired off another shot, grazing Paul in the thigh. They both fell in a heap, the gun spinning beneath a counter.

Paul rolled away, moaning.

Garrett raced from the room.

Kendra was at Paul’s side in an instant. The hole in his pants exposed a six-inch graze. “You’re shot.”

“Just a flesh wound,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Over here!” Russo was tending to Agent Cameron, who was writhing in pain.

Paul got to his feet and grabbed his medical bag off the counter.

Kendra stood over Cameron, while Russo gently raised the agent’s shirt.

“Shit.” Cameron grimaced. “Where did he get me?”

“Just below the rib cage,” Paul said, ripping open a box of gauze.

Cameron looked down at the blood pouring from a bullet hole at an alarming rate. “Flesh wound.” He winced. “Just like yours.”

Paul pressed the gauze against the flow of blood, but the pads were soaked in seconds.

Cameron took a wheezing breath and nodded at Paul. “Saved your ass, didn’t I, O’Keefe?”

“Yes sir, you did.”

The agent looked at Kendra and grinned. “No need to thank me.”

She smiled bleakly. “Guess you’re not so demented after all.”

“Just don’t tell anyone.” Blood trickled from his nose and he coughed.

Paul tried to dress the wound with more gauze and bandages but it was futile. He checked Cameron’s pulse and took vital signs. “You were right,” he said to Cameron. “The U.S. military created the ants. They funded the entire project.”

Cameron gave a weak nod. “I knew it … didn’t want to believe it.”

“Is that true?” Russo gasped.

“General Dawson…” Cameron’s voice trailed off. “He’s dead.”

“What?” Kendra said softly.

Cameron closed his eyes. He tried to start himself awake, but only drifted farther away.

Paul felt the agent’s pulse once more. It was weak.

He picked up Cameron’s gun: empty. He tucked it into his belt anyway.

“General Dawson, dead?” Kendra was stricken, and stood up slowly. “Garrett must have killed the general before he had a chance to speak to the president about the pheromones. They’re really going to bomb this city.” Her eyes darted to the clock. “In half an hour.”

“I don’t understand.” The mayor looked confused.

“Garrett told us the president is continuing with Operation Colony Torch,” Kendra said.

“The last helicopter is at six,” Paul said. “The bombs will drop minutes later.”

Russo rubbed the sides of his face, looking worried. “We just have to get word to the president, that’s all.” He took a calming breath. “I’ll try to reach him. Let him know the general is dead and stop this before it’s too late.”

They watched dolefully as the mayor headed toward his office.

Paul limped to his computer and prompted his e-mail. “Maybe we can reach Jack. Have him ready with those pheromones.” He typed at the keyboard with a scowl on his face. “I can’t get a line out,” he said. “The Internet is down.”

“Maybe the phones are down too,” Kendra said in a small voice. “Even if Russo reaches the White House, will they believe him?”

Paul leaned down, and his lips brushed her forehead. “Go find Jeremy. See if you can get an outside line. Then both of you meet me on the roof by six.” Paul checked his watch. “I’m going to find the colonel, get him to change the plan.”

As he went for the door, Kendra stopped him. “Be careful with Garrett.”

Paul pulled the gun from his belt. “I just have to be persuasive.”

“Without bullets?”

“He doesn’t know that.”

“I’ll have the helicopter crew come back for Cameron. He’s in bad shape.”

They looked back at the agent, slumped against the wall, eyes wide open.

He was dead.

CHAPTER 41

KENDRA REACHED THE DOORWAY
of the computer room, out of breath and gasping. Jeremy was staring at a screen image, mouth gaping and eyes bulging with an icy expression of alarm. Only once had Kendra seen him in that state. A supercolony of ants had launched an all-out attack on Edwards Air Force Base, eluding all his computer programs.

When she came through the door he shuddered and said, “I have bad news.”

Kendra almost laughed at the idea that things could get any worse.

“They’re coming,” he said.

“Who?”

“
Them.
”

A gray chunk of underground Manhattan was spinning in 3-D. The image was made up of swirling radio waves that arced around a network of pipes, cables and sewers. Anything metal or concrete was shaded in blue. Gaps and voids, such as buried subways tunnels, dried-up streams and riverbeds, were indicated in violet.

“The bunker’s ground-penetrating-radar system,” Kendra guessed, squinting at the image.

“Right,” Jeremy answered, completely absorbed in the graphic. “It’s fantastic. Far more advanced than any radar I’ve ever seen.” The cross section of the earth was created through the transmission of low-frequency radio waves that penetrated out from the bunker walls into the ground. Whenever the signal hit an object, it would bounce back to the receiving antenna to create a picture. The high resolution and 3-D were achieved by systematically collecting multiple lines of data to form a tomogram, a very clear image of the earth surrounding the bunker. If anyone or anything tried to dig its way toward the bunker, the radar would pick it up.

Kendra had more pressing issues. “Jeremy, we need an outside line. Can you reach the Pentagon?”

“Not at the moment,” he replied, still lost in the floating bedrock. “The Internet went down half an hour ago.”

She closed her eyes and exhaled. “We have a problem.”

Kendra summed up the events of the last half hour, including her suspicion that Colonel Garrett had killed the general and put Operation Colony Torch back into play.

“Unfortunately, that’s not our biggest concern right now,” Jeremy told her. “These are the last recorded images taken by the GPR.” With a slide of his finger, the angle dipped farther below the earth’s surface.

Kendra could clearly see the massive silhouette of the bunker in blue. Directly above was a glowing green blob, shifting and changing shape, contracting like a giant amoeba.

“Because of their rapid movement, the ants are easy to isolate. You can see the swarms moving frame by frame.” Jeremy zoomed out. “The darkest green is where the ants are most dense and they disperse toward the edges.” From the surface of the earth, hundreds of quivering tentacles grew and retracted, spreading downward. “They start to get fuzzy where the radar gets weak. If you follow these two subcolonies, here and here, they seem to be moving in our direction.”

“The ants are headed for the bunker?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

“I thought it’s supposed to be ant-proof.”

“Nothing in this city is ant-proof. Most of these walls are still bedrock and dirt.”

Kendra looked puzzled. “So the Siafu Moto can dig three hundred feet into the ground?”

Jeremy shrugged. “Mostly they live in pipes and sewers, subways and tunnels. Their connective nests are fairly shallow.”

“So how will they reach us?”

“Turtle Creek.”

“
Turtle Creek
?”

Jeremy pulled up another map of underground Manhattan and placed it over the 3-D image taken by the GPR. The Viele map, created in 1874 by Colonel Egbert Viele, was the only known map of Manhattan’s underground creeks and streams. It remained the bible for structural engineers, who had to reference the drawing carefully before a drop of concrete could be poured anywhere in the city.

Jeremy pointed to a long, twisted vein across the island. “New York is full of these underground riverbeds, mostly dried up and cavernous. Turtle Creek connects the East River to Turtle Bay, a subterranean river that snakes through half the city, all the way up to Riverside Park. It’s located right beneath the UN, practically over our heads.”

“How fast are they moving?”

“From these last images, it seems the closer they get, the faster they go.”

“They couldn’t possibly know we’re here.”

“Unless they’re being drawn to a massive amount of electricity.”

Kendra nodded at the bunker image. “The electrical field. It’s calling them right to us … how long do we have?”

“It’s hard to predict. Maybe an hour until they hit the ventilation system.”

“That gives us time to get to the roof.” She grabbed his wrist. “Let’s go.”

“Hold on. They might return to the surface if I shut down the power in the bunker.”

“You can do that?”

Jeremy frowned, as if insulted. “I can shut down the control center, the air-conditioning, all the lights and computers.” He thought a moment. “Yes, I’m sure they would head back to the surface.”

She checked her watch. “We don’t have time for that. The last flight out of here is in eighteen minutes.”

“You’re the boss.” Jeremy grabbed his briefcase as she started for the door.

Kendra made it to the door and froze. Tiny hairs prickled along the back of her neck. She looked to the ceiling.

Kercha kercha kercha kercha kercha

Jeremy stopped too. “What’s that?”

She stepped into the hallway. White tiles came alive in a mosaic of Siafu Moto. They rounded the bend and filled the hallway, spilled from the ceiling air vents. Kendra staggered backward in mute horror and slammed the door.

“They’re here,” she told Jeremy. “The hall is infested.”

He looked completely bewildered. “Oh … I was a bit off in my timing.… Let’s, uh, think about this.”

“Think fast!”

“There might be a way,” Jeremy said, pulling up a blueprint of the bunker. “I’m not sure why they built this tunnel—probably storage or some kind of vent—but it appears to be solid steel and as close to ant-proof as we’ll get. It winds around the entire bunker.” He highlighted the structure in red and traced it with his finger, talking fast and furious. “This is where we are, here, and if you keep going south, about five hundred feet, there’s an exit right up to the roof.”

“That’s where the helicopter lands,” she said.

Jeremy grabbed Kendra by the arm and hustled her to the back of the room. The small door was knee-high, like the closet in Paul’s lab. “Get in,” he said.

Kendra stooped and looked inside, wincing at the narrow space and shiny, mirror-like walls no more than eighteen inches in either direction. “Are you insane! I can’t fit in there.”

Jeremy eyed her head to toe and pressed both hands flat against her shoulders, as if measuring her dimensions. “Yes, I believe you can.”

Kendra knelt on one knee and stuck her head inside the door. “Absolutely not.”

“Hurry up.” He gave her a soft push. “You’re wasting time.”

“But you’ll never fit.”

“No, I probably won’t,” he agreed. “But as soon as I turn off the power, the ants will go back to the surface and I’ll meet you on the roof.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“I’m not chancing it, Kendra—go!” Jeremy spoke sternly, becoming agitated.

“It’s so dark.” She put her head inside. “Wait, I see some small lights down there.”

“Good. I’ll be sure to keep them running.”

Kendra paused for just a moment, regaining her nerve. She put her legs inside, then squeezed her body into the tunnel, tight as a sword in a sheath, until only her head could be seen. She lifted herself partway on her knees, but crawling would be difficult.

“This is ridiculous, Jeremy.” She stuck her head out the door. “Move! I’m coming out.”

Instead, Jeremy grabbed the back of her hair and kissed her hard on the lips. As they broke apart, he said, “Find Paul.”

The door slammed, and Kendra was surrounded by blackness.

“Jeremy?” She listened to the outside and heard the dragging of metal. Something heavy hit the door. She struck at the seam, but it wouldn’t budge. He had locked her inside.

CHAPTER 42

“
JEREMY!
”
KENDRA BANGED A
few times but knew it was useless. Jeremy was stubborn. Besides, the ants were already inside the bunker and he had only minutes to turn off the power. She would have to crawl through the death chamber alone.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Kendra lay flat on her stomach and tried to rise on her knees but hit the ceiling. Lifting on her elbows was also difficult. She would have to squirm through the tunnel like a snake down a sewer pipe, arms bent like flippers at her side. After a few tries, it became apparent that the best way to move was by wriggling forwards on her knees and elbows in a sort of caterpillar crawl.

The walls were inches from her face and Kendra felt her heart throbbing out of her chest. The farther she moved from the computer lab, the more panic she felt. Suppose she reached the end of the tunnel and there was no exit? Maneuvering backward would be impossible, and surely a death sentence. She could feel the warning signs of sheer terror spreading over her body—sweat, trembling, heart palpitations—and she stuffed them down deep, replaced with a feeling of rage over her predicament. She could hold off the shakes for now, but it wouldn’t be long until she fell into a full-blown claustrophobic attack. Her eyes yearned for even a morsel of light. Every ten feet or so were tiny blue LED panels that glowed but didn’t illuminate anything else. Kendra had to squint even to notice them, but at least they guided her like a runway.