The Bone Labyrinth

by James Rollins

  Haul ass.

  His partner had already reached the truck’s cab and climbed into the driver’s seat. The truck’s engine growled to life, spewing out gouts of black smoke from its diesel engine.

  Kowalski raced toward the back loader of the truck. He caught sight of Monk’s worried face in the large side mirror. He knew the source of his partner’s concern. In that same reflection, the silverback came bounding into view. Its hind legs slid in the slippery blood; then it charged toward him.

  “Go!” Kowalski hollered, swinging the launcher to get the truck moving.

  He sprinted faster, his gaze fixed to the side mirror. The silverback filled that reflection, roaring at him, throwing off ropes of drool as it bared its fangs.

  Kowalski knew he wouldn’t make it, especially as the truck finally got a head of steam and started speeding up. With every step, his cracked ribs tore more deeply into his side.

  He stumbled, his strength giving out.

  Then gunfire spattered from the dump truck’s bed. Rounds whined above his head, aiming for the silverback. Monk’s teammates must have climbed out of the cab and into the back bed, trying to help Kowalski.

  The effort spurred him to keep going.

  Finally he reached the bumper and grabbed the rungs of a ladder welded along one side. His fingers slipped loose. Unbalanced, he used the last of his strength to fling himself headlong toward the ladder. One hand caught and snatched hold.

  The toes of his boots dragged as the truck kicked up faster.

  He glanced back.

  The silverback thundered toward him. Its tough hide and thick bones were impervious to the rifle fire. One arm reached toward him, but he cracked the beast across the knuckles with the tube of the rocket launcher.

  The arm dropped, but the beast continued its pursuit.

  Kowalski tossed the launcher up into the bed, needing both hands to climb the rungs. Once secure, he pulled his dragging boots up onto the bumper and scrambled quickly, but the truck still accelerated too slowly. The silverback narrowed the distance, reaching again for him as he clung to the rungs.

  Then the rocket launcher protruded above the back tailgate and pointed toward the silverback. Kowalski craned up, confused, especially seeing who wielded the weapon. It was Maria. But the only grenade round left was still tucked in the back of his belt.

  Still, the silverback noted the implied threat.

  A loud boom startled Kowalski, almost making him lose his grip.

  The silverback had a similar reaction, dodging and rolling to the side like it had before, believing it was being fired upon. But it was only Maria kicking the tailgate with her boot, mimicking a grenade launch.

  Kowalski hung from the ladder, staring at the silverback. It had come to a stop and bellowed at them, possibly realizing it had been tricked.

  Kowalski lifted an arm and gave it a one-fingered salute.

  Better luck next time, chump.

  “Hold on!” Monk called from behind the wheel.

  Kowalski turned the other way.

  Ahead, trundling toward them was a convoy of military vehicles, running side by side, filling the tunnel ahead.

  It was the Chinese army.

  Kowalski sighed.

  Now who’s the chump?

  1:31 P.M.

  With Kowalski safely aboard, Monk slowed the truck. He tried to ignore the convoy closing down on them as he turned to Kimberly.

  She frowned deeply. Ever since the truck had started moving, she had been studying the sketchy map of the Underground City supplied to them by Kat.

  “The army is coming from the direction where we first entered the Underground City.”

  Monk drew the truck to a stop. “So we aren’t leaving the way we entered.”

  “No.” She glanced over her shoulder. “But there’s an intersection we passed about a hundred yards back.”

  Monk remembered. The cross tunnel had been larger than this one. “Where does it lead?”

  “No idea. It’s not on Kat’s map.”

  “Okay, let’s go see.”

  Eyeing the rearview mirror, he set the vehicle into reverse. The silverback had come to a halt fifty yards past the cross tunnel. By now its angry bellowing had drawn more of its kind into the tunnels. Hulking dark forms lumbered along the passage to join their leader.

  “You’ll have to make that turn fast,” Kimberly warned.

  No kidding.

  Still, Monk kept his speed moderate. He wanted to make it look to the convoy as if he was only a lowly truck driver trying to escape the mayhem, maneuvering to get out of the army’s way.

  Then gunfire chattered from the front vehicles. Rounds splintered the cab’s thick windshield and pinged off the front grill.

  Okay, that’s not going to work.

  As he picked up speed, Kimberly ducked lower and removed a set of binoculars from her jacket. She studied the convoy, taking stock of the threat, then swore under her breath.

  “What?”

  “In the front jeep. Lieutenant Chang Sun.”

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  Kimberly scowled. “He must have taken off during the chaos and met the incoming convoy. He’s likely the one who summoned them.”

  And now he’s coming with the cavalry to play hero.

  Monk raced their vehicle faster in reverse, chased by the convoy. Gunfire erupted over the top of the cab as Sergeant Chin and his men returned fire from the truck bed.

  Everyone else, including Baako and the group of rescued chimps, were also back there. The thick steel walls surrounding the bed should keep them as shielded as possible.

  Monk kept his focus on the side mirror as he raced backward. In the reflection, he saw the other massive hybrids had reached their alpha leader and gathered at the silverback’s side. The gunfire, along with the approach of lights and vehicles, kept the group wary—but not likely for long.

  The silverback fixed his dark gaze upon their truck. It hunched on all four limbs, shoulders thrust forward, waiting for them to return, perhaps believing they intended to go on the offensive.

  Sorry to disappoint you, dude.

  Monk reached the intersection and braked hard. He cranked on the wheel, fishtailing the back end slightly to come to a stop with his front end pointed toward the side tunnel.

  Turned askew now, Monk had a clear view toward the approach of the convoy. Lights blazed toward him.

  “What are you waiting for?” Kimberly asked.

  Monk held the brake and gunned the engine, revving it to a throaty growl, choking the space with exhaust. He held his ground until he could make eye contact with Chang Sun, who sat in a passenger seat of an open jeep.

  Kowalski called from the back. “They’re coming!”

  He wasn’t talking about the Chinese.

  Monk watched Chang Sun sneer with satisfaction.

  Good enough.

  Monk let loose the brake and hauled on the wheel. Tires screamed, rubber smoked—and the truck shot off down the other tunnel.

  As he had hoped, the convoy had been so focused on the large dump truck, which mostly filled the road, that they had failed to note the hulking army lurking in the shadows beyond their vehicle.

  In his mirrors, Monk watched those two forces collide.

  The massive gorillas pounded into the jeeps and trucks, leaping over trunks to rip soldiers from their seats, tearing through the canvas of troop carriers.

  The tunnel made a sharp turn ahead, and he lost sight of the battle.

  He finally turned his full attention forward.

  Now where do we go?

  1:58 P.M.

  After twenty minutes of traveling through ever-darkening tunnels, Maria allowed herself to breathe. She sat in the bed of the dump truck, surrounded by warm, furry bodies.

  Baako leaned against her with a dozing chimp nestled in his lap. On her other side, the older female nursed her infant. In her arms, Maria cradled the small one-year-old, his tiny head resting trustingly
on her shoulder. His soft breath brushed the hollow of her throat.

  She remembered when Baako was this young.

  Kowalski sat cross-legged against the side of the dump truck, staring at her.

  “What?” she whispered.

  He shrugged. “You look good.”

  She stared down at her disheveled condition, then frowned at him.

  Right.

  He wiped a palm over the stubble of his scalp. “I mean, you look . . . I don’t know, content. Like you know where you fit in the world.”

  Her frown softened into a smile. “Maybe.”

  At least better than a few days ago.

  “You look good,” he repeated, leaning back, letting his eyes close, but not before a slight grin played about the corner of his lips.

  She knew this time he wasn’t talking about contentment. But she didn’t press the matter and accepted the compliment, more flattered than she had a right to be.

  The truck’s engine suddenly coughed once, jolting the bed—then twice more. Finally it gasped out a last gout of exhaust smoke and died.

  She straightened, twisting around.

  Monk called back through the back window of the cab. “Out of gas. Think the fuel tank got punctured by a stray round at some point. But Kimberly knows where we are. There’s an exit a half mile ahead. We’ll have to hoof it from here.”

  With Kowalski’s help, Maria got everyone moving and off-loaded.

  Once on the ground, they set off down the shadowy tunnel. Monk led with a flashlight. Its single beam was enough to illuminate their way.

  After several minutes of hiking, Kimberly pocketed her phone and stared ahead. “The exit is near the Forbidden City. Once there, I’ll head up with Sergeant Chin. We’ll fetch a vehicle.” She glanced over to Maria’s charges. “Perhaps a paneled van to help ferry our unusual cargo. With attention likely to be focused back at the zoo, we should be able to slip out to the countryside and arrange an evacuation. Still, we should—”

  “Quiet.” Monk cut her off and covered his flashlight with his palm. He motioned for them to retreat to the side.

  “Now what?” Kowalski groused.

  Then Maria heard it, too.

  The growl of an engine. Lights appeared behind them, rounding past the far bend. The vehicle surely had spotted the abandoned dump truck.

  Monk clicked off his flashlight and turned to Kimberly. “Is there any place nearby to hide?”

  “Not that we could reach in time.”

  Monk swore and waved everyone down. His men dropped to a knee, leveling their weapons, guarding Maria and the others.

  The vehicle drifted toward them, then stopped ten yards away. The glare of the headlamps blinded them, but it was clearly a Chinese military vehicle. The open-air jeep had a shielded machine gun mounted on the back, which swiveled toward them.

  A soldier called over. “There is nowhere else you dogs can run.”

  Maria recognized that superior tone.

  From Kowalski’s groan, he knew the man, too.

  2:16 P.M.

  That bastard has more lives than a friggin’ cat.

  As the jeep’s engine continued to rumble loudly, Chang Sun remained hidden behind the machine gun’s shield, plainly intending to keep whatever lives he still had left. The coward must have fled the altercation at that crossroads and come after them, intending to claim the glory of their capture.

  Sergeant Chin test-fired a few rounds at the driver, but even the windshield proved to be bulletproof. More firepower was needed.

  Kowalski began to lift his RPG launcher, but Chang strafed a line of fire in front of Monk’s men.

  “Remain where you are,” Chang warned. “And I might let some of you live. To be paraded and prosecuted as American spies.”

  Kowalski lowered his weapon.

  “But I have no need for the animals,” Chang said. “Send them forward so I can dispatch them quickly.”

  Maria stepped in front of Baako, her stance easy to read.

  The muzzle of the machine gun shifted toward her chest.

  “You’d better do as he says,” Kowalski growled. “It’s better that Baako die here than be brought back to some lab.”

  Maria breathed heavily, remaining stiff. Finally she sagged, knowing he was right. She turned to Baako and signed to him.

  [I love you]

  He whimpered and hugged tightly to her.

  “Now!” Chang barked.

  Kowalski yelled back at him. “Let them say good-bye, you jackass!”

  Maria dropped to her knees and embraced Baako, as if trying to envelop him completely. She held him for a long breath, but she must know Chang had only so much patience. She finally let him go and encouraged him to take the chimpanzees around to the front.

  Baako carried the two little ones, while holding the hand of the mother who nestled her infant to her chest. They moved out between the beams of the jeep’s headlamps, becoming shadowy silhouettes against that glare, as if already ghosts.

  The gun barrel lowered toward the group.

  Maria leaned into Kowalski’s chest, hiding her face, bracing herself against the coming gunfire.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Kowalski told her.

  This was no lie.

  With everyone focused toward the front of the jeep, no one paid any attention behind it. A patch of shadows grew darker back there, bunching to form a massive hulking shape.

  Chang wasn’t the only survivor of that earlier altercation.

  The silverback crept silently upon its escaped prey. The beast was clearly injured, dripping runnels of black blood. One arm hung at its side, a dead weight. It drew up behind the jeep. The occupants, deafened by the rumbling engine, remained unaware.

  Monk encouraged their group to retreat.

  Chang must have believed they were clearing away from the slaughter of Baako and the chimps. “It will be over soon,” the bastard promised.

  It certainly will be.

  A massive hand grabbed Chang from behind and plucked him out of the machine gun mount. The shock of the sudden assault strangled the man for a breath. Then he twisted around and caught sight of what held him.

  He finally screamed.

  Panicked, the driver leaped out of the jeep, only to take two well-placed rounds through the forehead from Chin.

  The silverback ignored the blasts and lifted Chang’s struggling body to its mouth. It planted the man’s skull between its molars—then slowly clamped down with a sickening crunch of bone.

  After Chang went limp, the silverback tossed the body into the shadows and lowered to a fist. It glared over the top of the jeep at their group.

  Kowalski already had his rocket launcher loaded and positioned atop his shoulder, the sights fixed on that massive bulk. There was no escape this time. The silverback glowered at him, huffing, building up steam for a fight.

  Bring it.

  Then a shadow blocked Kowalski’s view. A furry hand rose and pulled the muzzle of his launcher down. Baako stood with his back to Kowalski, facing the giant.

  The young gorilla rose as tall as he could. He signed to the other, pointing both fingers up, then toward the silverback.

  [Go]

  The silverback hunched lower on its one good arm. Blood pooled beneath its half-ton bulk. That dark gaze swept from the defiant stance of Baako to the lowered weapon.

  Baako repeated his sign.

  [Go]

  The silverback grunted, sagging in exhaustion, then lumbered heavily around. It slowly limped back into the darkness.

  No one moved, fearing it might return.

  Finally Maria dashed forward and hugged Baako.

  Kowalski remained wary. He didn’t know if the silverback had backed down because of its injuries, or from Baako’s sign of defiance, or because of the peaceful act of lowering the weapon.

  Likely all of the above.

  No matter the reason, it appeared to be truly gone, disappearing into the shadows, perhaps to become some
future urban legend, a monstrous yeti of Beijing’s underworld.

  Kowalski passed Monk his launcher and crossed to Baako. He clapped the gorilla on the shoulder. “Look who’s the new alpha around these parts now.”

  Baako swung an arm in good-natured play, but he ended up smacking Kowalski hard in the side.

  “Ow! Watch those ribs.”

  Baako lifted his brows high, worried he had truly done him harm.

  Kowalski reassured him. “It’s okay. Remember we’re—” He formed the F sign with fingers and traced a circle.

  [Family]

  Baako nodded vigorously, chuffing his understanding. He looked from Maria, back to Kowalski—then tapped his thumb against his forehead, looking earnestly up at him.

  [Papa]

  “Hey, whoa there, buddy.” Kowalski backed a step. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

  26

  May 6, 9:05 P.M. EDT

  Washington, D.C.

  “That’s the official story out of China?” Gray sat across the desk from Painter Crowe, the director of Sigma. “A gas leak?”

  Painter tilted back in his chair, using both hands to comb his fingers through his hair. “That’s what you’ll hear on CNN and Fox News about the devastation at the Beijing Zoo. But no one’s fooled in the back channels. China is being allowed to save face in return for their cooperation in exposing any other operatives within the U.S. academic fields.”

  “And you trust they’ll be thorough?”

  “Of course not, but it’s a start at cleaning house. In addition, China has agreed to sign the moratorium against any further research into the engineering of the human genome.”

  Gray raised a skeptical eyebrow.

  Like signing a paper will stop them.

  Painter shrugged. “The genie is out of the bottle. All we can try to do is rein in such research as much as possible. Even the two Crandall sisters have discontinued their research using animal hybrid models.”

  “What about the other asset that came out of China?” Gray asked.

  “Gao Sun? Our current guest at a black-site detention center?”

  Gray nodded. Monk’s team had returned with the soldier, to answer for his murder of an Emory University student at the primate center. With the chaos surrounding events at the zoo, no one was bothering to look for the soldier. The prisoner had been transferred to a covert facility, to serve out a life sentence.