In his ear, Boardman said, “To your right, behind the tree!” immediately followed by the crack of his rifle. From the corner of his eye, Scott saw someone fall, but then Lo said, “They’re on the path – cut left! Cut left!”
Scott leapt off the end of the dock and switched direction, a stride ahead of Alton. Then with no warning whatsoever, a thick stream of orange fire blossomed over his right shoulder and the next thing he knew, Alton had tackled him to the ground. Instinctively, he rolled, the acrid scent of burnt hair filling his nose and Boardman’s words, “Flame thrower!” in his ear.
His roll took him over the top of a boulder embedded in the soil, and he fell several feet down behind it, landing hard on his shoulder. Alton dropped next to him as another burst of flame scorched the ground above them. From this vantage point, they were maybe ten feet from the river’s edge. He patted a smoking patch on his arm, thinking if the flame came any closer, they’d be forced to run for the water.
The stream of fire swung around towards the dock, singeing the tops of the reeds growing along the bank and sending black clouds rolling up into the sky. His eyes had adjusted to the UAAV’s spotlight enough to see Boardman withdraw his rifle and shut the window before the flames hit.
“Oh, no you did not,” Lo muttered in his ear as he and Alton hunkered down, catching their breath and waiting for her to pull something else from her bag of tricks. Sure enough, another trap door opened next to the one housing the spotlight on top of the UAAV and a thick spout raised up. A deep, rumbling hum alerted him just before the vessel’s water cannon sent a high-pressure burst of river water arcing out over the dock.
“Ha!” Lo crowed. “Like that, fire man?”
Scott glanced around the boulder and grinned as the water swept the man off his feet. He attempted to stand, but Boardman shot him in the leg, saying, “Two down. Lost the third guy.”
Lo used the water cannon to put out the flaming reeds near the shore, but its reach didn’t extend far enough to extinguish the dry winter growth burning farther inland. Scott hadn’t gotten a glimpse of the people she’d warned him about on the path, but something told him Bryn was among them.
He turned to Alton. “I have to find her.”
Alton twisted his lips, checking his weapon. “For the record, I have a thing for the doc.”
Scott blinked in surprise. “Oh. That’s…”
“Yeah, whatever. Let’s do this.”
Scott looked over at the UAAV. Boardman had his rifle scope up to his eye, aiming for the path.
“I see them,” he said. “One, two, three – five people. Fire’s getting close, but they’re just standing there.”
“Recognize anyone?” Scott asked.
“Negative. Too much smoke.”
Alton got to his feet. “Ready, kid?”
Scott nodded. This time Alton took the lead, running through the bushes along the edge of the path, skirting the areas that were burning. Ahead, a sound like the furious scream of a big cat brought Alton to an abrupt halt – and brought to mind Shasta’s warning about ‘large and dangerous’ exotic animals on the loose. The fire must have flushed the animal out, and would make it frightened and unpredictable.
Just as Alton began to move forward again – more cautiously this time – Scott heard the sudden pop, pop, pop of gunfire, which made them both duck into a crouch until they realized they weren’t the targets. A blast from a larger gun was followed by an unmistakably female voice screaming in shrill hysteria.
For a heart-stopping moment, Scott thought it was Bryn, but the woman cried, “Maddy!” and he recognized Padme’s voice. All caution forgotten, he and Alton beat their way through a copse of tall evergreen bushes. The bushes blocked most of the light from the UAAV, but the encroaching fire lit up the area well enough for him to assess the scene as they stepped onto the path.
Padme was kneeling over Maddy, who lay flat on her back gasping for breath, hand resting on a sawed-off shotgun. Nearby, Fournier sat slumped next to Dillo, who was face down in the dirt. Alton strode over to check Dillo, met Scott’s eyes and shook his head.
Scott took the shotgun from Maddy’s unresisting grasp and helped Padme to her feet. “Where’s Bryn?”
“I don’t know.”
“What happened here?”
“The cheetah—it went after Dundee.”
“Dundee?” The last Scott had heard of the Australian xeno, he’d been blinded by Bryn’s quills. “Which way?”
She opened her mouth to respond, but behind her, a figure staggered through the smoke into the clearing, gun arm extended, barrel pointing right at her head. It was the third man, the one Boardman had lost sight of. His face was dirty, streaked with what looked like blood, and he smelled strongly of urine.
“Drop your weapons – all of you!”
It was the second time in one day someone had got the drop on Scott, only this time, Boardman and Lo weren’t in a position to help. He kept hold of his gun, but didn’t risk lifting it and setting the obviously disturbed man off.
The man didn’t seem to notice. He coughed a little from the smoke and then focused on Padme. “You,” he spat. “You sent that fear, didn’t you? I’m gonna cut those cow ears off and stuff them down your throat.”
Behind him on either side, two more figures appeared, smoke swirling around them. One had a rifle and the other a handgun.
“No,” Bryn said. “You’re not.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
She was prepared to kill the man if she had to, but thankfully, it turned out to be unnecessary. He hesitated for several tense seconds, sweat glistening on his brow, but then dropped his arm. The gun landed in the dirt with a thud that could barely be heard over the crackling of the burning bushes.
She raised her gaze. Scott held it for only a second, his blue eyes reflecting the light from the fire. Then he grabbed the man’s arm, twisted it behind his back and efficiently secured him.
Out of the blue, he said, “Six incoming; two injured. Yes, they’re both fine.” He glanced at her again and she realized he must be talking to the rest of his team, the ones still on the water.
“Where’s Dundee?” she asked. “He was here, I heard him!”
Scott glanced at Padme and said, “Something about a cheetah. We don’t have time to hunt him down. We have to get out of here.”
He and Alton quickly frisked and zip-tied Fournier, Padme, and Maddy. When Scott hauled Maddy to her feet, Padme exclaimed, “Be careful! She’s shot.”
“Stop fussing. I’m fine.” Maddy looked at Scott. “Wearing your vest. Much obliged.”
Bryn remembered Dillo had taken it from Scott at Edgemere, but instead of using it himself, he’d given it to his queen. Now he was lying in the dirt and they were out of time – the flames suddenly ignited the dry grass all around them in a whoosh of intense heat.
“Run!” Scott yelled, shoving Bryn from behind.
She didn’t want to leave him, but the heat was overpowering and thick, glowing sparks filled the clearing. In a running crouch, she sprinted along the path until she burst out into fresh air. She backed up into the winter field, horrified as she watched the conflagration, howling now like a live thing.
Mia appeared next, followed by the guy who’d tried to shoot Padme. He dropped to his knees, coughing and wheezing, as Maddy and Padme emerged behind him, holding hands. Scott and Jason arrived last, carrying Fournier between them.
“Where’s Dillo?” Maddy cried, her face contorted with something that looked very much like grief. It wasn’t the first time Bryn had witnessed the Mad Eye queen’s intense emotions, but this time seemed different; underneath the shock and pain, Maddy seemed almost lost.
Scott, his face smudged with soot, looked away.
“You left him to burn? So you could save that piece of shit?” Maddy glared at Fournier with eyes that burned as intensely as the fire.
“He was too heavy and we were out of time,” Jason said. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.
”
To avoid the smoke, they went upwind and circled back around to the river, where the strange vessel with the fire hose had kept the flames from spreading to the dock. The man who’d started the fire with the flame-thrower had dragged himself to the end of it and was sitting there, soaking wet and shivering as he nursed his gunshot leg.
Scott frowned when he saw him. “Just what we need: another injured prisoner.”
He and Alton had a short conversation with the rest of their team. Even though Bryn only heard one side of it, she was able to determine that they’d accomplished their goal of capturing Fournier and didn’t want to risk losing him again in the event any more of his men were lurking on the premises.
Or Dundee, she thought, staring into the darkness beyond the burning undergrowth.
Scott and the team agreed their only option was to take to the water, which was problematic, since the UAAV had a weight limit in amphibious mode. They decided to put Fournier’s men on the UAAV and commandeer Maddy’s yacht for everyone else. Getting the secured prisoners aboard the UAAV without tying it to the dock was easier said than done, but between them, Scott, Jason and Boardman managed it. Bryn and Mia happily relinquished their guns, which were put aboard the UAAV along with the prisoners’ weapons.
They got to the yacht using Fournier’s fishing boat, which still had the keys in the ignition from Dundee’s trip. There was no one to take it back to the dock, so rather than set it loose on the river where it would be a potential hazard, they tied it to the back of the yacht, much to Maddy’s irritation. When they got aboard, they found the captain was missing, and Padme told them Dundee had thrown him overboard. Maddy offered to pilot the yacht, but Scott said, “No. Just tell me what to do.”
She stood with him under the roof at the helm, obviously in pain from the gunshot Scott’s vest had deflected. The rest of them had to sit under the open sky on the u-shaped seating of the cockpit; Fournier and Padme on one side where Jason could keep an eye on them, and Bryn and Mia on the other.
Scott followed Maddy’s instructions, and as they got underway, a very subdued Padme asked for a blanket. Jason went below and came back with three of them, plus the ship’s medical kit and several bottles of water. When he approached Padme with one of the blankets, she snatched it out of his hand and curled up on the seat as far from Fournier as possible.
Mia opened the medical kit, Jason hovering over her as she attended to Fournier’s arm. After she’d bandaged it, she peeled off her rubber gloves and reached for her purse. Inside was the plastic bag with her post-op instructions. She removed a small bottle, opened it, and shook two white pills into her palm.
“Here,” she said.
“What is it?” Fournier asked weakly.
“Pain meds from your den.”
“Oh, right. Your graft.” He obediently opened his mouth. She dropped the pills in, and then held a bottle of water to his lips.
“So you got the graft?” Jason asked.
She nodded. Bryn noticed she didn’t take any of her own medication. Instead, she moved away from Fournier and perched on the edge of the seat near Bryn, back straight.
Jason sat next to her. “What’d you get?”
Bryn was interested to hear Mia explain her choice, but Mia only said, “Doesn’t matter. He said it won’t protect me for several weeks.”
“That long?”
Jason waited for a response that never came. Mia just stared down at her clasped hands. He made a rueful face before pulling his gun from its holster and fiddling with it.
At the helm, Scott was keeping pace with the slower UAAV. The lights dotting the landscape seemed to abruptly disappear, even though the yacht was getting closer to the city. The orange glow that usually tinted the Manhattan skyline at night was absent. She could see the tops of the taller buildings, but there weren’t nearly as many lights shining out of the windows as there should be. Closer to shore, other than car headlights and the occasional fire, everything was eerily black. The power must be out, she thought with a shiver. She didn’t know much about the power grid, but figured only a catastrophic failure would result in such widespread darkness.
“What are we going to do when we get ashore?” she asked.
“Meet up with Shasta,” Jason said. “She’s in one of the agency’s surveillance vans.”
“Shasta!” Mia gasped and put both hands to her face. “I should have called her the second you guys showed up.”
Jason looked over at the UAAV. “Lo, can you get Shasta on the line?”
He listened to her reply and then shook his head. “She says she’s been trying, but she isn’t picking up.”
Mia took her holophone out of her purse. “I’ll send her a text. Hopefully she’ll get it soon.”
“What’s so urgent?” Scott asked.
Mia tilted her head towards Fournier. “According to him, the typhoid carriers all have crocodilian grafts.”
“Crocodilian?” Scott asked. “Not alligator?”
“Same difference.” Mia didn’t look up from her holophone, so she missed the concerned look Scott and Jason exchanged. Bryn saw it, though, and it took her a moment to realize what was bothering them: Boardman had an alligator graft – and he must have heard Scott’s question through the earbug, because Scott said, “Fournier says the carriers all have croc or gator grafts. Sorry, man.”
Maddy glanced sidelong at Mia. “Once you tell the CDC, they’re going to round up everyone with those grafts and lock them up. Unless word gets out and the mobs kill them all first.”
“Xenos are already being rounded up, regardless of their graft,” Scott said.
“Rounded up? How?” Bryn asked.
“The National Guard’s been conducting sweeps in xeno neighborhoods.” He shrugged a little. “For their protection.”
“Neighborhoods like – Carla’s? Have you heard from her?”
He nodded. “Yeah. They took her.”
“Where?”
“Poppy’s Pier.” He pointed downstream.
She looked at him uncomprehendingly. “Why there? That place is horrible.”
“I don’t know. She said she was safe, though.”
Bryn still had a million questions, but Maddy scowled at Fournier and said, “See what you’ve done?”
“Give credit where it’s due,” he replied. “None of this would have happened if it weren’t for your father.”
She strode across the deck. “What does that mean, you miserable little cockroach?”
“It means,” Jason said, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his thighs, gun hanging casually between his knees, “that your father’s as dirty as they come. Remember that deal we made?”
“Null and void when my brother died.” She turned back to Fournier and spat, “Because of you.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said dully.
Maddy seemed like she was about to hurl herself across the table at him even though her hands were tied behind her back. Then she cocked her head to one side and narrowed her eyes at Jason. “Tell me, Dragila, was there an attack on the XIA building today? Did Lupus manage to escape?”
“He’s dead,” Alton said. “Your soldier shot him.”
“Oh, no,” she murmured, looking at Fournier with a falsely solicitous manner. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Fournier turned his head away, face slack and eyes dull as the painkiller Mia had given him began to take effect.
Jason stood, moving to stand in front of Maddy. “You do realize you’re going to prison, don’t you? I might still be able to get you some leniency if you cooperate.”
“I already told you I don’t know anything about my father’s business.”
“You don’t need to know anything,” Jason said. “You just need to talk to him.”
“You mean wear a wire?” She managed to appear offended and dumbfounded at the same time.
He didn’t reply. His head went up, eyes getting that unfocused look that told Bryn he was li
stening to his earbug.
“Roger that,” he said. Then to Bryn and Mia, “Lo says they’re making land.”
“We’re going to split up?” Mia asked. “Is that wise?”
“It’s necessary,” Scott said shortly.
Bryn looked downstream, gaze picking out two lighted objects moving across the sky. Helicopters, circling something on the ground, spotlights flashing. Something told her the copters were directly above Poppy’s Pier.
Chapter Thirty-eight
What Lo actually said was she was worried about Shasta and wanted to make land in order to head to the Holland Tunnel to see if she could locate her. That meant the UAAV would soon be out of range of their earbugs and they’d lose constant contact with the rest of the team.
Scott would have answered Mia’s question about the wisdom of splitting up, but he didn’t want Maddy and Fournier to know how tenuous their control of the situation really was. Without Shasta and the vehicle she was driving, they had no way to transport all the prisoners once they made land – although where to transport them was also up in the air. XIA headquarters was out, and the commanding officer of that National Guard unit said the jails weren’t taking xenos. Not to mention, Fournier needed to get to a hospital.
Maddy was silently fuming after her confrontation with Fournier, but seemed triumphant at the same time, which Scott could only attribute to her finding out that the Mad Eye soldier she sent to take out Lupus had been successful. He was glad she’d shut up, though. Not that goading Fournier seemed to have much effect at the moment. He was hunched under his blanket, eyes closed. Padme hadn’t moved.
Bryn had pulled the hood of her coat over her quills and tucked a blanket under her hips. It was bitterly cold, and he thought about sending her below, but didn’t want to let her out of his sight. As he watched, she straightened and turned towards shore. “Did anyone hear that?”
The noise from the two circling helicopters almost obscured it, but he did hear something. It was faint, but sounded like panicked screams and shouts. According to the radar they were just north of Poppy’s Pier.
Xenofreak Nation, Book Three: XIA Page 15
