“I understand. Let us descend,” his guide said.
Down in the chambers, the dog-man disappeared into one of the other chambers, ostensibly to warn everyone. Harry stood with his wife, and Monsignor Morello came over to meet them. “I am sorry I could not meet with you earlier. There are spies everywhere.”
“Even among your people?” asked Anastasia.
A look of sorrow crossed the old man’s face. “Yes, even among us there are those filled with hatred.” He shook his head, apparently in dismay for his fellow members of the clergy. “At any rate, I have a message from France. As Carlo has informed you, they will meet you soon. We have linked up with Bernhard Lambert. He is their government’s official liaison, but we must be careful...”
His speech was interrupted by an explosion and the chambers rocked under the force of the blasts. Dust sifted down, and really, did they need a cave-in right now? The cries of, “They are here, they are here,” rang throughout the entire underground complex.
Machine gun fire soon drowned out the cries for help. Anastasia came running over with Leo and Istvan in tow. The look of fear on her face was magnified twofold in her small companions’ faces.
“Take them out of here,” Carlo said, handing over another memory stick. “This is the information on where to meet. I will hold them off.” He pulled a pistol out of his waistband, checked the ammo clip, and cocked the weapon.
“You can’t—”
“Go!”
Having no choice in the matter, Harry pocketed the memory stick, slung the bag over his shoulder, grabbed Anastasia’s hand, and took off for the exit. In turn, she grabbed both little men and shoved them ahead of her. They made it to the exit as the sounds of grenades going off and bullets filled the chambers along with the cries of the hunted. “Keep going,” she urged.
Shouts of rage filled the air. The death squads had arrived, and Morello stood in the way of six armed men, his arms spread wide. “Stop,” he cried. “This is holy ground you are on. The Pope has declared these people are to be protected. You are doing the work of the devil. I beg you to see the light!”
One of the men cocked his machine gun and aimed it at the old man. “You are in league with the devil. They are demons of hell and you will join them.”
He cut loose with a burst of gunfire and Morello fell to the ground. Six other transgenics charged, but the gunfire was intense and they soon joined the Cardinal in death.
Carlo was the last to stand against them. With a snarl, he fired his pistol, taking out three of the assassins, but even he, too, fell. A bloody smile was on his face as he spiraled down to the hard earth.
“We must leave,” Leo panted as he pushed the bricks on the wall. It slid open. “I know the way. I will guide you.”
Hurriedly, they made their way into the sewer. Anastasia gave a sudden gasp and bent at the waist. Harry put his arm around her shoulders. “Can you make it?”
She shook his arm off. “It was just a dizzy spell. I’m fine. Keep moving.” She followed Leo and Istvan up the ladder to the surface.
At the top, Leo pressed a small button on the side of the sewer wall. Harry hadn’t even noticed it and asked, “What is this?”
“It is armed. If they follow us here, they will get surprise.”
It seemed like a good way to deter any followers. Harry grunted and pushed the manhole cover off. Poking his head through the hole, he cautiously surveyed the area. It seemed clear for the moment. “Let’s go.”
They emerged in the alleyway and flattened their backs against the wall. Anastasia asked, “Where do we go from here?”
Leo sniffed the air. “There is truck up ahead. We can drive over border... but men are coming.”
“Are they like us?”
“No.”
Waving them back, Harry took the lead and peeked around the corner. Leo’s sense of smell was definitely off the charts. Three men armed with clubs were headed their way. “I’ve got this.”
“Not without me, you don’t,” Anastasia declared.
She would pick this time to go and fight. “Be careful.”
A silly notion, really, as with a yowl, she leaped out ahead of him and took on the first two men, slashing the weapons out of their hands and taking them out with a few sharp punches.
So much for motherhood, he thought as he went to join in the fray. After clobbering the third man with a vicious right hook, he panted and then called out softly, “Leo, show us the way.”
Leo got his assertiveness back, sniffed the air, and led the way through the back alleys and cobblestone streets until they came to a truck. “You can drive?”
Harry got in and started the engine. “I’ve got this. Just tell me which roads to take.”
The little mole-man got in beside him. Anastasia got in back with Istvan, and Harry put the truck into gear and drove slowly and carefully out of the city.
The way ahead was clear, and Leo gave instructions on where to turn. Once they’d reached the countryside, Harry pulled over to the side of the road and killed the engine. “I have to check something.”
Pulling the memory stick from his pocket, he fed the information into the computer, and a map of the Lyon countryside in France sprang up. He noted the location, then sent a message to the USA. This is Maze the reply came. The transponder signal is working perfectly.
Where’s Overton?
Hang on a second.
Harry waited impatiently, drumming his fingers on his thighs, and then a message flashed on the screen. This is Overton. I just got back a few hours ago.
How are you feeling?
Shoulder’s banged up and I have jetlag... I’ll make it. Where are you headed?
France, Harry wrote. We’re supposed to link up with a man named Lambert in Lyon. Follow us there.
The transponder signal is only good for another thirty-six hours, Overton wrote back. Have you got Istvan with you?
Yes. We’ll take him along and try to get him back to the USA as soon as we can.
I’ll have a plane waiting for you at Lyon-Saint-Exupery Airport. I’ll be on it. Be at the airport at 08:30 on Tuesday, runway seven. We’ll fly you home.
It was Sunday night, so they’d be cutting it close. Right now, there was no way to know if they’d make their flight, so Harry simply typed in we’ll try. If we can’t, we’ll find another way.
Logging off, he stowed the computer away and turned to Leo. “It’s up to you. We have to get to the border and then find a way over.”
“I get you there,” Leo declared. “Let us go.”
Back at the truck, Anastasia elected to sleep in the back. “I’m either going to get carsick or morning sick,” she said. “You don’t want to see me heave in the front seat, do you?”
It seemed like the best idea. She kissed him quickly and then clambered into the rear, followed by Istvan. They set out, the way ahead dark, but there had to be some light at the end of the tunnel, and Harry was determined to find it.
Chapter Six: In the Hands of Madness
Getting to the border of France didn’t prove to be much of a problem at first. There was very little traffic, and they saw only a few vehicles on the highway. Their problem was fuel. After the first three hours, they ran out of gas. The estimated distance from Rome to Lyon was around five hundred miles, and they had to cross the border, which meant avoiding armed personnel who might not be overly welcoming.
Additionally, they had to meet this Lambert character in Lyon, and if they ran into any citizens on patrol, it would not bode well for them. Once they abandoned their vehicle, they skirted civilization as best they could and picked their way through the countryside.
It was dark, roughly three in the morning, and the stars shone brightly under a clear sky. Great, Harry thought, there couldn’t have been better weather in order to spot someone. Their going was slow, and they were careful to keep low to the ground and avoided making undue noise. Conversation was kept to a minimum.
During their first
hour of walking, they spotted a group of five men armed with flashlights. They were talking to each other in rough, heavy tones, each word laced with menace. Harry didn’t understand Italian, but he heard the word straniero mentioned a number of times and asked Leo what it meant.
“It mean foreigner.”
Considering the men were armed with guns, they weren’t looking to take anyone on a guided tour. “What we do,” Leo questioned. “I smell they have food and wine. I am hungry.”
“I am also hungry,” Istvan whined. “I do not want to think about food, but it is thinking about me.”
“Fine, fine,” Harry said, trying not to be impatient. He also hadn’t eaten in a while, but he’d been thinking of what Allenby could be planning, and his mind was full of possible theories. Still, he had to focus on the situation at hand. “Okay, sit tight, let me look this over.”
He checked their targets—yes, three of them carried knapsacks, and while this was so not the time to think of their next meal, Anastasia’s tummy had begun to growl, very audibly, too. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m... you know.”
Yeah, I know, Harry thought, and then came up with an idea. “Leo, take a walk.”
The mole-man turned around with a quizzical expression on his furry face. “Take walk... where?”
“Over there,” Harry pointed directly at the group of thugs.
“Are you feeling normal?”
It had to be the oddest question around, and in any other situation it would have been funny, but Harry had no time to explain. “Just do it.”
Leo threw him a nervous glance, but toddled out with his hands held high and yelled something in Italian. Immediately, the group hustled over and one of the men slammed him to the ground. They stood in a circle over their captive, laughing as though they’d bagged the biggest prize.
Anastasia leaped out of her hiding place and smashed two of them to the ground. Harry took care of the other three in short order, using fists and elbows to knock them out. After tying them up with their belts, he took their knapsacks. As Leo had indicated with his hypersensitive nose, two of the knapsacks contained bottles of wine along with bread, cheese, and some sausages.
“We eat now?” Leo asked, practically salivating at the sight of the edibles.
“We find somewhere safe to eat and then sleep,” Anastasia stated, and pointed off to their right. “I see a bunch of trees up ahead. Let’s go there.”
Her observation proved to be correct, and they took their booty over to the small forest where they tore into the food. Leo immediately guzzled down one of the bottles of wine, gave a satisfied burp, and then passed out. Istvan also ate his fill and lay down to sleep, and Harry nodded at his wife. “Get some rest,” he said. “I’ll stand watch.”
She kissed him fondly on the lips. “Give us a couple of hours. We have to get moving.”
Curling her tail around her body, she gracefully slipped to the earth and was soon out. Harry smiled at the way she slept, like a small child, but Anastasia was no child. She was with child, and he would soon become a father.
Once again, awe overcame him. A father... what would the baby look like, he wondered with a sense of bemusement. He’d always wanted to get married, but this? Fear of fatherhood, perhaps a natural feeling for everyone, filled him, but at the same time he resolved to be strong. Bringing a new life into the world, he had to take responsibility.
Shifting his attention to the landscape around them and the rapidly lightening sky, he paced back and forth, sniffing the air, but detected no scents of anything save a few animals that had come out to forage. Still, he stayed on the alert until the early cry of a rooster alerted them that morning had broken.
They continued their journey just after sunup, and while they made decent progress for the first hour, Anastasia soon tired, and Leo’s body was not built for long hikes. He plodded along, each step becoming slower than the last. “I must rest,” he said, plopping down on the ground.
Istvan also complained about not being able to walk much further. They’d come to the edge of a small village and sought refuge in a grove of bushes at the edge of a field. The day had dawned hot and bright, and by now everyone was sweaty and tired, but the trees and bushes gave them a bit of shelter.
However, without any water or food, the situation would soon go from bad to desperate, and no ideas seemed to be forthcoming until Leo tapped him on the arm. “I have idea,” he said, his mood brightening somewhat. “Come with me.”
What was up with the assertive bit? There was no need for anyone to prove themselves, but once he saw the target, he played along. They trotted over to the people who were getting out of their truck, and Harry offered a greeting in a most cheerful air. “Hi, how would you like some passengers?”
It had to be the most naïve as well as the stupidest idea around, but this was the perfect situation in which to try it. The leader of the group turned his head and began to smile, nodding his head up and down in a rapid motion. Gesturing to his friends, they also began to nod and then clapped their hands. Words in Italian began flying back and forth, and finally, with hearty “Si” it seemed as though a deal had been struck.
Leo nodded and switched to English. “They will take us. Get your wife and our friend.”
Harry whistled, and Anastasia bounded over with Istvan under one arm. “Have we got a ride?”
“We’ll fit right in.” He pointed at the truck—a circus truck, one of three.
Immediately, she let out a giggle. “Yeah, I guess we will.”
Clambering into the back, they nestled among the supplies. Harry searched around and found a few loaves of bread and cheese, while Istvan sniffed out a jug of water. Soon, the food and water disappeared, with Anastasia ingesting most of it. They all got comfortable and Harry posed the question to Leo, “What did you say to them?”
“I say we are performers. We seek work. We are clowns, yes?”
Talk about sharp! Leo had pretty useful assets, the gift of gab being one of them. “Yeah, we’re clowns. Are they going to take us to Lyon?”
A nod came his way. “They will get us over the border. They do not know about us being... what we are. Once we cross, we go to Lyon. I say we must go to Lyon. That is about two hundred fifty miles.”
Harry rapidly calculated the time and distance—they might just make it. Harry thanked him and settled back, Anastasia in his arms. The truck bounced merrily along, but he barely felt the jolts. Instead, he held onto his wife tightly and soon exhaustion overtook him and he slept.
“We are here,” a voice said.
Harry immediately awoke. Leo thrust his face close to his. “We are outside Paris. The truck driver, he say he must go on without us.”
Shaking his companions awake, Harry poked his head out the back of the truck. The sun felt glorious and he basked in its warmth for a moment. Clambering outside, he waited for his wife and Istvan to emerge. After they did, the truck drove off.
Anastasia asked, “So what do we do now? Can we hitch a ride?”
It didn’t seem possible. They’d arrived at noon and they were out in the open. Additionally, two hundred-plus miles separated them from their destination. Harry glanced around, saw nothing in the way of transportation, and then turned around to focus on Leo. “Do you know this guy Lambert?”
The mole-man shook his head, but Istvan spoke up. “I know of him. I heard the Monsignor talk about him, and I know his computer address.”
Why didn’t he say so before? For a second, Harry felt more than a little put out, but checked his anger. He hadn’t thought to ask. “Tell me. I’ll send him a message.”
Getting the information, Harry sent an email, then waited for a reply, tapping his fingers impatiently on the keyboard until the computer let out a faint pinging sound. One email was there. Opening it, he read Thank you for contacting us. We will come to meet you. Please wait about three hours.
With nothing better to do, the four of them hunkered down in a nearby forest and waited. A
nastasia’s morning sickness continued and she quietly crept off to toss her cookies while Istvan and Leo foraged for some food. Harry kept watch, but no one seemed to be coming after them, and for a moment, he forgot about their predicament.
A memory, though, of vigilante groups, assailed him. In New York, roughly six months earlier, he and Anastasia had been running for their lives and had found an unlikely rescuer, a nearly blind woman named Josephine. She’d willingly hidden them, fed them, and supplied them with enough funds to continue their flight. “Why’d you help us,” was Harry’s first question to her.
She offered a beatific smile. “I helped you because you’re good people. I knew you wouldn’t hurt me. I’m old, a widow, and have no money, and if you’d wanted to kill me you already would have. You didn’t, and that means I can trust you.”
He’d never forgotten her, and once settled, he’d sent her enough money to help her live decently for however long she had. It was a considerable sum, and he hoped it would be used wisely.
Now, he had to rely on the kindness of strangers, and his hopes that humanity would understand rose, if only by a few percentage points...
There... the sound of a truck disturbed the peace. Many vehicles had already passed by, but the smells of the passengers had been the standard smell of humans, dry skin, milk and meat. This time he smelled something different... something not entirely human. Tilting his nose in the air, he sniffed again and... yes, different. Anastasia came over to stand beside him. “You smell them too, right?”
“Yeah,” he affirmed with a nod. “I make two of them being like us, but not.”
The not part perturbed him. Even though Anastasia’s sense of smell was superior to his, he’d always been able to discern the differences between transgenics and humans. Sometimes it was the fur and sometimes it was just a deeper, heavier, gamier smell. This time... he wasn’t sure.
A few seconds later, Istvan and Leo joined them and they waited as the truck approached. It stopped, and three people got out. One of them was human, a small, slender man in his fifties. Harry recognized him as Lambert, the liaison from the French government.
Separation Page 8
