Savage (Apex Predator Book 2)

by David Meyer

  A microchip? The very thought made Caplan queasy. Corbotch had inserted microchips into the reborn megafauna and possibly the behemoths as well. Their exact purpose was unknown, but Morgan had speculated they were being used to fuel bloodlust. Terrific, he thought. I always wanted to be a vampire.

  “I don’t want to bond with it,” Caplan said with a glance at the wheel. “It hasn’t even bought me dinner yet.”

  The doctor’s head rolled back and he laughed. “This really is for your own good, Mr. Caplan. Now, let’s just get you loaded into this module and we’ll—”

  “Dr. Barden.” The voice, loud and crisp, rang out over an intercom. “Mr. Corbotch would like a word with you.”

  “Excuse me.” Smoothing down his beard, Dr. Barden rose to his feet. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

  As the doctor walked to a telephone, Caplan turned toward the wheel-shaped modules. A long-dormant memory surged into his consciousness. He recalled sitting inside Corbotch’s Rexto 419R3 helicopter. He recalled ascending from the Vallerio Forest, flying away into the great unknown. He recalled Mills talking about a barn-like building she’d seen in the Vallerio, about wheel-like objects inside that building.

  They were in the basement, Mills had said. Tricia and I went down there while Brian kept watch. She opened one and we saw this dead guy. At first, we thought the wheel was an isolation chamber. But the guy was plugged into it with wires and tubes. Tricia guessed it was some kind of life-support system and that the power failure had killed him. But who builds over a dozen life support systems in the middle of nowhere?”

  Caplan studied the modules. They definitely weren’t life-support systems. In fact, he was pretty sure they’d been used to manipulate people on a genetic level. But how?

  And why?

  Chapter 28

  Date: November 27, 2017, 1:16 a.m.; Location: Savage Station, Vallerio Forest, NH

  Cold water crested into Caplan’s face. He shut his eyes and mouth. The steady spray ripped against his naked, bruised cheeks, then attacked the rest of his body.

  “Turn around,” Roberts commanded.

  “If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll—” The spray caught Caplan straight in the mouth. He coughed, sputtering for air. Instinctively, he twisted away, causing the chains that bound him to clank in the process.

  The spray soaked the back of his head, his shoulders, his back, his rear, and his legs. Then the stream dried up. Drips of water struck the concrete floor.

  He stood still, water slipping down his chest. His jaw ached. His ribs were sore, if not busted. His entire body felt like mashed hamburger meat.

  Some two hours earlier, he’d been lying next to the modules, frantically brainstorming escape plans. Dr. Barden had returned to the bed, red-faced and quiet. He proceeded to sterilize and patch up Caplan’s many wounds. But that was it. For whatever reason, the man stopped short of implanting the microchip.

  Eventually, Roberts had arrived, flanked by soldiers. She’d taken him to a dimly-lit concrete room. He recalled every second of the subsequent thrashing, every brass-knuckled shot to his unprotected face and torso. It had been a vicious, ruthless attack. But he’d survived it.

  Twisting around, he stared at Roberts and her lackeys. Their faces were impassive. One soldier held the end of a dripping hose.

  “We call that the Savage Shower.” She tossed his clothes, freshly laundered, to him. “How’d you like it?”

  His head felt heavy, groggy. He could barely lift his exhausted arms. But despite it all, he still managed to crack a cocky grin. “Better than I like the company.”

  “Why do you have to answer everything with an insult?”

  “Probably because it’s so easy to insult you.”

  Her lips tightened.

  As Caplan donned his clothes, he took in the rest of the space. Plain and sturdy, it reminded him of those safe rooms that were so popular in tornado-prone areas. The door was made of metal. The walls, floor, and ceiling were reinforced concrete. Light was provided by an overhead fixture.

  He stared at the fixture for a few seconds, transfixed by its very existence. How long had it been since he’d seen working electricity outside of a car? He couldn’t remember.

  “You haven’t asked about your friends yet,” Roberts said, crossing her arms.

  That was true. It was also deliberate. For now, he thought it best to act like they didn’t matter to him. That way, she couldn’t use them against him. But it wasn’t easy. In fact, it had taken all of his willpower not to pepper her with questions.

  “Oh, yeah,” he replied. “How are they?”

  “They’re fine.” She smirked. “By the way, which one are you screwing? Amanda? Bailey? Both? Just tell me you weren’t doing that Tricia chick.”

  “A gentleman never tells.”

  Her smirk faded. “Anyway your friends are resting comfortably in our clinic. You remember the clinic, don’t you? The room with all the beds?”

  “It rings a bell.”

  “We use it to house and monitor our subjects between module sessions. Right now, Bailey and Brian are undergoing a battery of tests to determine their suitability. Amanda already passed her tests with flying colors. In fact, she experienced her first module session earlier today.”

  His face grew warm. What was a module session? Was Morgan okay?

  “Just so you know, you won’t be entering the modules,” she continued. “In fact, you won’t be staying here much longer. Mr. Corbotch is sending you on a little trip.”

  The news hit him like a sledgehammer. Savage Station creeped him out, but at least he was close to his friends. How was he going to save them now? “I hope it’s someplace warm,” he replied.

  “It’s not.”

  “Too bad.” He turned his gaze to the walls. “I hear this place dates back to the 1800s,” he said, changing the subject. “It must have quite a history.”

  “It was built by Mr. Corbotch’s ancestor, Miles Spencer Corbotch. When Mr. Corbotch first found it, he discovered evidence of grisly activities, including human experimentation.”

  “James is related to a psychopath? Big surprise.”

  Her visage took on an annoyed look. “It took years of renovations, but Mr. Corbotch eventually transformed this space into a top-notch facility. In addition to the clinic and various labs, we’ve got ample quarters, a kitchen, a pool, a movie theater, and a library.”

  “If you’re going to launch the apocalypse, might as well ride it out in style, right?”

  “That’s right.” She arched an eyebrow. “By the way, I know what you’re doing right now.”

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  “You’re fishing for information, hoping I’ll give you something you can use to escape. You might as well forget it. This room is completely solid.”

  “Snug and cushy, too.”

  “It could be worse. You could be on Level X.”

  “What’s on Level X?”

  A scream, barely audible, filtered into his ears. A couple of bloodcurdling howls, even softer, followed suit.

  Roberts smiled. “Them.”

  His blood chilled. These were clearly the sounds of torture. And yet, they weren’t coming from the clinic two floors up. No, they were coming from somewhere beneath his feet. Evidently, Corbotch’s torture program was separate from the clinic.

  “Some say those sounds you just heard are the ghosts of Miles’ victims,” Roberts said.

  “Stupidity knows no bounds, I guess.”

  “You’ve got a smart mouth.”

  “At least it’s not a stupid one.”

  She glared at him. “It’s time for me to go. But first, I want you to fully understand your situation. You’re locked in a secure room. Dozens of my best soldiers monitor this floor. In other words, you’re stuck. There’s no escape, no way out. And that means playtime for me. Until Mr. Corbotch says otherwise, I’m going to make your life a living hell.” She walked to the door, opened it, and stepped outsid
e. “But don’t feel too sorry for yourself. Your friends have it worse than you do. Much worse.”

  The door closed over. A lock clicked. The overhead fixture went dark.

  And then Caplan was alone.

  Chapter 29

  Date: November 29, 2017, 3:34 a.m.; Location: Savage Station, Vallerio Forest, NH

  Screams and howls, soft and discordant, flooded Caplan’s ears. His heart raced and his eyes shot open. Blinding light awaited him and he shied away from it. Where was he? What was going on?

  He lay still, breathing heavily. Memories pushed their way into his sleep-deprived mind. He’d spent two days locked in the room, deep within Savage Station. Soldiers tortured him around-the-clock with bright lights, beatings, and electric shocks. Screams and howls, clearly human and yet not human at all, accosted his ears at all times.

  He’d managed to nod off once or twice over the last forty-eight hours, but only for an hour or two at a time. How long had it been since his last real deep sleep? Would he ever sleep again?

  He lay on the concrete floor a little longer, his ears awash in screams and howls. His brain felt like jelly. He wanted to curl his toes and clutch his ears. But he resisted the temptation. After all, Roberts was most likely watching him.

  His thoughts turned to Mills, Morgan, and yes, even Toland. Where were they? Were they still alive? And where was Elliott? Was she still with Ross and the rest of the Danter colony?

  The lock clicked.

  Still squinting, he sat up. He’d quietly searched the room numerous times. He’d checked the floor for weaknesses. He’d scoured the walls for cracks. Unfortunately, Roberts hadn’t been exaggerating. The room was escape-proof.

  The door shifted open. Roberts appeared in the doorframe. “I see the ghosts are back,” she said.

  “Really? I didn’t notice.”

  “Remember Kevin?” Taking her time, she donned her brass knuckles. “The man you killed back in Maine?”

  “The musclebound freak? Sure, I remember him.”

  Her gaze tightened an iota. “We just buried his body.”

  “Did you bury Mike Ballard and the other people you killed in Danter, too?”

  She ignored him. “I didn’t cry at the funeral. Oh, I wanted to cry. But thinking of you—of what I was going to do to you—well, that was enough to keep me sane.”

  He stayed silent. Not because he had nothing to say, but because he didn’t want to betray even a hint of his frazzled nerves.

  She entered the room, followed by a couple of soldiers. Closing the door, she engaged the lock.

  He shut his eyes and sealed off his mind. And then he was alone. Alone with the screams and howls. Alone with the bright lights. Alone with his darkest thoughts.

  A couple of hands yanked him off the ground. They forced him into an upright position and immobilized him. Brass-knuckles slammed into his stomach and he screamed. He screamed out of pain and agony. He screamed out of concern for his friends. He screamed because he had no choice. But he didn’t scream for mercy.

  Forget thriving, he sang. Just keep on surviving.

  Chapter 30

  Date: November 30, 2017, 2:04 a.m.; Location: Savage Station, Vallerio Forest, NH

  He knew the date—November Thirtieth—but it held no specific meaning for him. He’d been locked up for … how long had it been? Three days? Four days?

  His friend’s faces ran through his mind on an endless loop. How many sessions had Morgan endured in those strange wheel-shaped modules? Were Mills and Toland now undergoing sessions as well?

  His mind flitted to Stage Three. He still had no clue what it entailed. He only knew that it was scheduled to begin on the Third of December and would mean the end of humanity’s last few population centers. With the exception of Savage Station, the Homo sapiens species would be all but finished. Not that he cared all that much. In fact, if it weren’t for Elliott and the sizable Danter colony, he wouldn’t have cared at all.

  He flopped onto his stomach and tried to hide his head in his arms. But he couldn’t block out the screams and howls. Meanwhile, bits of blinding light snuck through his crossed arms and stabbed into his eyeballs.

  He shifted slightly. His body ached from the endless beatings and electric shocks. His mind, twisted into a pretzel from sleep deprivation, couldn’t concentrate for more than a few seconds at a time.

  The lock clicked. Metal scraped against concrete. He didn’t groan, didn’t budge. He didn’t even care.

  “You’ve got visitors,” Roberts said.

  Shielding his eyes, he glanced at the door. Roberts and her usual assortment of soldiers stood on the threshold. But they weren’t alone.

  “Bailey?” he said in a raspy tone. “Brian?”

  Mills and Toland, weighed down by restraints and surrounded by soldiers, stood in the adjoining hallway. Their clothes, freshly laundered and pressed, looked almost new. The same, unfortunately, couldn’t be said for their faces.

  Mills’ cheeks were red and splotchy. Big bags rested under Toland’s eyes. They both appeared dazed and disoriented.

  “Unfortunately, Dr. Barden declared them medically ineligible for module sessions,” Roberts explained. “So, it looks like you’ll be having company on your trip.”

  Relief washed over Caplan. “The more, the merrier.”

  “Just so you know, this is as merry as it’s going to get. Amanda will be staying with us. She came along too late to make the first wave but—”

  “The first wave?”

  She smiled. Then she snapped her fingers. Two soldiers dragged Toland into the room. They removed his restraints and released him. His body sagged to the floor.

  Roberts removed Mills’ restraints. Then she shoved the woman. Mills stumbled into the room. She tripped over her feet and fell to the floor, smacking her head against the concrete in the process.

  Caplan crawled to her side. “Bailey?” he asked, brushing damp hair away from her eyes. “Can you hear me?”

  “This is your last night at Savage,” Roberts said. “I suggest you make the most of it. Your next stop will be far less pleasant than this one.”

  Boots scuffed the floor. The door closed. The lock clicked. The overhead light, however, remained on.

  Gently, Caplan rolled Mills onto her back. Ignoring the howls and screams, he placed his ear against her chest. Her heart sounded good. He checked her breathing and was relieved to find it was normal.

  He stripped off his shirt. Wadding it up, he placed it beneath her head. Then he crawled to Toland.

  “Uhh.” Toland stirred. “My head …”

  Caplan gave the man a quick check. He saw numerous needle marks and accompanying bruises. But otherwise, Toland looked to be in good shape.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “They poked us with needles, then stuck us into their wheels. They must’ve pumped me full of drugs because I don’t remember much after that.”

  “But you do remember something?”

  “This quack—he called himself Dr. Barden—was with us the entire time. He referred to the wheels as genome transplantation modules.” Toland rubbed his head. “He said they were used to edit genes. To change people.”

  Caplan nodded. It was just as he figured. One of the modules had been used to edit Corbotch’s genes, to bring the man to new levels of physicality. Now, the clinic’s patients were undergoing similar treatment. “Change them into what?” he asked.

  Renewed howls and screams floated up through the floor and pervaded every inch of the room.

  Toland exhaled. “Into that.”

  Chapter 31

  Date: November 30, 2017, 1:35 p.m.; Location: Savage Station, Vallerio Forest, NH

  “It’s hopeless.” Toland sat down in the middle of the room. Lowering his palms to the floor, he stuck his legs out in front of him. “The only way we’re getting out of here is with a battering ram.”

  Mills, now awake and partially recovered, paced alongside one of the walls. She studied it c
arefully, searching for any sign of weakness. “You’re giving up?”

  He shrugged. “What’s the point?”

  “If we don’t escape, we’re going on a one-way trip, courtesy of James Corbotch. Do you remember the last trip he took us on?” She arched an eyebrow. “The one to saber-tooth central?”

  He considered that for a second. Then he rose up, limped across the floor, and began studying the walls anew.

  Caplan ignored the cinching in his chest as he walked along one of the other walls. A part of him had suspected the screams and howls came from former clinic patients, now recovering from gene editing. Still, it was one thing to think it, another thing to know it.

  Roberts had mentioned something about a first wave and how Morgan was too late to join it. Did that explain Corbotch’s plan for Stage Three? Was he creating an army of genetically-engineered warriors to wipe out Earth’s remaining population centers? Would this army swarm the planet in waves?

  His fingers moved over the wall as he checked for crevices and cracks. He was pretty sure he’d gone over the area a thousand times already. But he’d do it a million more times if that’s what it took to find a weakness.

  He moved to the door. He jiggled the handle and checked the bolt. He ran his hands over the metallic surface and struggled to loosen the hinges. And all the while, he pondered his next move if—when—they secured an exit. Without weapons or back-up, their best bet was to disguise themselves, grab Morgan, and head for the surface.

  But then what? Could they survive Stage Three? And even if they could, what about Elliott, Ross, and the rest of the Danter colony?

  They worked for another fifteen minutes. Then Toland sat down again. “Calm down,” he said when Mills gave him a dirty look. “I’m just grabbing some grub.”

  “Good idea.” Caplan wiped his hands on his shirt and walked to the corner. His lunch—a hunk of stale bread, and a few thin slices of mystery meat—lay on a small paper plate. He sniffed the meat and nearly gagged.

  Quickly, he wolfed down the stale bread. It didn’t even begin to satiate his hunger. As such, he was tempted to try the meat. But ultimately, he thought better of it.