“Not me—you,” the creature responded as he once again seated himself at the computer. “You have the knowledge. You’re just as interested in this as I am. Help me to perfect it.”
Perfect it? And risk a tidal wave of inhuman creations crawling across the land? Not likely, Harry thought, but if there was a way to buy some time... “If I help you, I want one thing. Let my wife go free.”
Allenby let out a most mocking laugh. “Let her go free? You must be joking. She’d bring the authorities, not that I care. As I said before, this place is too well defended. Even if someone does manage to breach my defenses, there are other places to go.”
With those words, Allenby snapped his fingers and two of his snake-men appeared. “Take him back to his cell.”
They grabbed Harry’s arms, but he shook them off. “I know the way.”
As he walked off, he heard the words of, “You have one hour to think things over. If you don’t accept my generous offer, I will kill your wife.”
Harry started back, intent on finishing things, but something heavy hit him in the back of his head, and the next thing he knew, he was back in his cell with Anastasia staring at him. “Uh,” he muttered, tired of being bashed in the head all the time. “How long have I been out?”
“About thirty minutes,” she responded. “Did he give you an ultimatum?”
It wasn’t much of one. Help or watch someone he loved die. He couldn’t live with either option, but sooner or later he’d have to make that choice, and things were fast coming up on the sooner part. “I...” he began, and then stopped as a familiar aroma came through and he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Do you smell that?”
Anastasia stood up tasting the air with her nose, and a faint smile creased her lips. “Yeah,” she said. “Guess who’s coming to dinner?”
It didn’t seem possible, but their Italian compatriot had managed to find his way over. It was just a question of where he was hiding.
Predictably, the guards came when the time limit was up and once again escorted Harry to the central chamber. This time, they took Anastasia with them, and held onto her while the chief monster took center stage. Allenby dismissed his other men and told them to wait in the back room. He must have felt totally confident to have done so.
“So here we are again,” he said in a voice full of triumph. “I have you, I have your wife, and I have the means with which to claim my godhood. Are you going to help me?”
There didn’t seem to be much of a choice, but Harry wanted one thing in his favor. “Where’s Istvan?”
Allenby blinked. “Why do you want to know?”
“He’s a friend. I just want to make sure he’s okay.” It seemed like the most logical excuse to think of. “Besides, as you said, you’ve got me and a whole lot of your men on hand, just in case.”
His words seemed to have an effect, as Allenby cocked his misshapen head to one side as if deciding to accept the request or not. Finally, he snapped his fingers. One of his men walked over and bowed. “Yes, master?”
“Get the pig.”
The minion immediately ran off to a different side door near the end of the cavern and returned within a minute holding onto Istvan. “He’s here now,” Allenby observed and pointed at the computer. “Start working.”
Heaving in a deep sigh, Harry began to check things out. Grudgingly admitting the already-done research was cutting-edge, he set about finding the flaw in the theory. Typing in his own equations, he delved into the DNA pattern that had been set out. Sweat popped out on his brow, the tension mounted exponentially, and after thirty minutes, Allenby prodded him with a, “Well?”
Sitting back, Harry shook his head. The problem was as he feared. The bonding of animal and human cells couldn’t be reversed. Istvan’s blood proteins would help, but the stoppage was temporary at best. He estimated that even if the process did work, reversion would occur in two months or less.
“See for yourself,” he said and pointed at the screen.
“Move away from the computer—slowly,” Allenby commanded, breathing heavily.
Doing so, Harry spotted the tiny form of Leo creeping by. He’d gone over to the power cables and started to gnaw on them. Smart... cutting the power would stop the enemy, at least temporarily. Another shadow crept past, but he couldn’t make it out.
His attention, though, swiveled back to Allenby when the man-monster gave a grunt of dissatisfaction and stood up. “That’s the best you can do?”
“If you can do better, go ahead. I still remember the goat guy.”
With an almost arrogant motion, Allenby snapped his fingers and three of the snake-men lined up. “Shoot the woman,” he commanded.
“You scumbag,” Harry cried and launched himself at Allenby. Claws out, he aimed true and stabbed him in his right eye, which elicited a scream. “How do you like that?”
A strangled reply greeted his question. “You’ll pay for this!”
The monster fell back, holding onto his face. For a moment, all the combatants in the room stood as still as statues, waiting for someone to make a move.
Anastasia broke the silence. “If there’s any paying to be done,” she offered, her teeth exposed in a snarl, “then you’re the one who’s going to pay up. You threatened me, my husband, and my baby.”
Tensing her body, she hunched her shoulders forward as if ready to unleash hell. “And no one threatens my baby.”
An instant later, she whipped her tail around, striking one of the goat-men on the side of the head and sending him sprawling. She then grabbed the other man and effortlessly launched him into his snake comrades, scattering them like bowling pins. The minion holding Istvan dropped him and the pig-man ran off, squealing.
“Kill them,” cried Allenby. His eye had already healed. “Kill them all!”
The goat-men then attacked in force, forming a circle around Harry, their fists curled into hammers.
Suddenly, a sharp snap sounded—like the sound of an electrical circuit being interrupted—and like a theater curtain dropping, the lights went out. Once darkness fell, Harry used it to launch himself at the goat things who were blundering around in the dark. Their eyes apparently couldn’t adapt as quickly. No time for subtlety. Claws out, he swiped at their throats, tearing them out, and they fell.
Swiveling around to check on the whereabouts of his wife, he saw her ten feet away, busily ripping through the other creations. “Get Allenby!” she shouted.
An emergency generator must have been set up, for the lights suddenly came on. Allenby emerged from behind one of the machines, holding onto Leo with his spider arms, squeezing him until he squeaked in agony. “Please...” he whispered in a voice choked with agony.
“This little rat bit through my power lines, but he has only served to interrupt my progress,” Allenby snarled. “See what your interference has wrought and live with the memory!”
Oh god, please don’t do it! “Let him go,” Harry cried.
A chuckle greeted his entreaty. Allenby heartlessly crushed the little mole-man’s body and tossed him away. “He’s only slowed me down. He won’t slow me down again.”
With a wave of his monstrous arms, he curled his fists and pawed the ground, like a bull getting ready to charge.
Cue given, in a rage Harry leaped at him, clawing at his face. Anastasia also joined in, and together they slashed, punched and kicked at their adversary. It was like hitting a brick wall. They could smash it all they liked, but it had no effect. Allenby covered up, took the punishment, and lashed out with a shot that sent Harry crashing over a table ten feet away.
Spitting and hissing, Anastasia went for the monster’s throat, seemingly the only vulnerable spot on his body. With one of his massive arms, he grabbed her around her neck, throttling her. “Your child will be an aberration, and I declare that I will rid the world of it,” he bellowed.
Hunting around for a weapon against this lab-created titan, Harry found a glass beaker lying on the ground. A quick glanc
e at the writing told him it would do.
“Declare this,” he yelled, and tossed the container at the monster. The glass shattered and liquid splashed on his face. Instantly, his skin, tough though it was, began to bubble, and his protective bony covering began to melt. “Concentrated acid—you like it?”
Allenby howled and let go of Anastasia, who fell gasping to the ground. “Stay there,” Harry called out. “This thing is mine!”
Following up his advantage, Harry attacked head on, alternating slashes to Allenby’s midsection with punches to his now-exposed eyes and nose. Gradually, his attack showed results. Allenby fell back and his defenses came down, but he still had enough strength to grab Harry around his midsection with his multiple arms and began to squeeze. His charred and burning skin also began to knit, and his eyes shone with a blood-red madness.
“You are weak. You are nothing to me. I’m going to be a god, and neither you nor your bitch wife will stand in my way!”
“You forgot one thing,” Harry choked out. Lungs on fire and heart pounding, spots appearing in front of his eyes, he summoned up an inner strength and rammed his claws into his opponent’s neck. “Even gods bleed.”
A horrid gasp came from Allenby and he let go, slumping down to one knee. Harry fell back, feeling as though his ribs had been caved in. A second later, his opponent let out a triumphant laugh as though he’d just circumvented death. In fact, he had, as the slashes on his throat closed within milliseconds. “I can’t be beaten and I won’t be beaten,” he said.
Moving forward in an impossibly fast rush, he body-checked Harry into the far wall. Harry heard the crunch of his bones as his body hit the rock and he sagged down, nerves inactive. Anastasia dragged herself over. “Are you okay?” she whispered.
“I’ll let you know when the world stops spinning.”
It might have come across as playful banter, but Allenby didn’t bother to glance in their direction. Instead, he turned to one of the computers, still running, and began to type. “This,” he said, “will be the crowning achievement to my legacy. I give you... my impending godhood.”
Task over, he walked over to the large chamber. “I have already injected myself with the entire range of DNA genomes. With this, I leave humanity behind and become the new face of what can be.”
The chamber door closed, the lights dimmed, and in less time than thought possible, the door opened and Allenby emerged. It wasn’t him, though, but something else. The arms had disappeared, and so had the bony armature. “How do you like me now?” he asked.
Harry focused his eyes on the figure before him. Apparently, his calculations had been correct and he cursed himself for it. No longer a monster, Allenby had grown in height and now stood nearly seven feet tall. He had the physique of a bodybuilder’s bodybuilder, every muscle huge and yet delicately shaped as though an invisible chisel had been taken to carve out each line and groove. “I... rule,” Allenby said. “I have power now, more than I ever imagined.”
To prove it, he leaped up in the air a good forty feet and landed again without a sound. He then walked over to the wall and proceeded to pound on it, his fists, the size of large hams, bashing holes in it with little effort.
“I am perfect. I have incredible strength, and—”
“Are you bulletproof?”
A shot rang out and Allenby whirled around, a look of surprise on his face. He then looked down at his chest and put his finger to the hole where the bullet had just exited. “Who...”
Overton stepped out from the shadows. “I guess you’re not.”
He leveled the gun and shot Allenby three more times in his chest, and Mr. Godlike Being sagged to the floor without a sound.
Anastasia smiled. “How did you get here?”
The agent’s arrival shocked the hell out of Harry as well, and he struggled to his feet. “I’m going to echo what my wife said. How did you get here?”
“Leo showed me the way, and once we got inside the perimeter, he tipped me off to where the defenses were. I deactivated them. I have to tell you, getting down that cable was murder.” He glanced up at the ceiling. “I don’t know if I could climb up again.”
“I thought you FBI guys were in terrific shape,” Harry opined, going for sarcasm and getting it.
“Not me.”
A voice spoke from the floor, interrupting the moment of playful banter. Allenby wasn’t dead, not quite yet. “You haven’t deactivated all of my toys.” He crawled over to the computer, tapped a few keys, and then smashed it with his fist. “Say hello to your own personal Armageddon. This place will explode in thirty seconds. I rigged charges to the elevator, so don’t bother using it.”
“Time to go,” Anastasia said as she scooped up Istvan and made for the wall. In a series of quick movements, she shinnied her way up and soon disappeared over the edge.
Overton looked at Harry. “I don’t think you can carry me.”
“Let’s find out.”
Harry hauled the man over his shoulders and followed his wife’s lead. Climbing proved to be difficult, as Overton weighed considerably more than Istvan did. The first charge went off just after he’d clambered over the ledge, and then the second and third charges went off in sequence.
“I can run,” Overton said, and took off.
Lingering for a last look, Harry witnessed the destruction of someone’s mad dream. Each of the Genesis Chambers exploded, taking their gestated monsters to a special hell.
And then there was Leo, who’d given his life. Harry truly regretted the passage of his friend, but right now he didn’t have time to mourn.
He ran, the heat of the fire practically scorching the fur off his back. Once they reached the surface, Harry slammed the door shut and dragged a few heavy pieces of timber over to block it off, just in case anyone from below tried to get out. He wasn’t sure Allenby hadn’t made yet another escape, but decided not to take any chances.
Anastasia sat down, and drew her arm across her forehead. “Can we go home now?” she asked.
Overton lay on his back, sucking wind. “I second the motion.”
Surveying their handiwork, Harry nodded. “Yeah, I think we can. Let’s go home.”
Epilogue
Before filing a report, Harry, along with his wife and Istvan, paid a visit to an old friend. At the hospital, Farrell lay sleeping, covered by a wrinkled white sheet, an oxygen tube in his nose. He’d always been thin, but the past three weeks he’d grown thinner still as the illness consumed him. A certain shroud hung in the air.
Harry recognized it right away. It was the veil of impending death. He’d sensed the same thing when his father had been stricken by cancer, and now it was back again.
Farrell’s eyes slowly opened, and he smiled. “Glad you made... made it, kid,” he managed to rasp out.
Harry grabbed his hand and squeezed it as if to lend his strength, while Anastasia went to the opposite side of his bed and grasped Farrell’s other hand. “Thanks to you, we got Istvan out,” she said. “You got that plane for us.”
“You needed the transportation. I called in a few favors.” Farrell’s voice came out as a whisper. It still carried enough strength in it, though, to convey meaning. “I need to talk to Harry—alone. Please.”
Bestowing a kiss on his forehead along with a soft, “Thank you,” she escorted Istvan out of the room. The door closed softly behind them.
“Glad you’re still here,” Harry said, trying to fight back tears and not succeeding. He hastily wiped them away.
“Don’t worry about this,” Farrell replied as his voice grew more authoritative. “And don’t cry. You’ve got to... be strong.”
Harry decided to reiterate his offer. It was now or never. “I, uh, I wanted to tell you about how we could help you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’ve been working on my computer simulations and—”
“Save it, kid.” Farrell’s voice got a note of stubbornness in it and he struggled up to a sitting position, waving off any at
tempts at assistance. “You mentioned it before and I know what you’re going to say. Use a DNA combination to stave off the cancer and then use the Genesis Chamber, correct?”
He’d known it all along, although anyone could have figured it out. “You know it’s the right thing to do,” Anastasia had said during their plane ride back from California. “He’s our friend. We owe it to him to give him the same chance.”
Nodding his head in agreement, Harry had gone over the figures on a computer one last time. Yes, it would work. There was no reason for it not to. His mind snapped back to the present when Farrell tapped him on the forearm. “You know why I’m saying no, don’t you?”
“It’s a chance,” argued Harry, desperate now that the life seemed to be seeping out of every one of his mentor’s pores.
“It’s not for me.” The agent’s voice carried with it an air of calm, even one of inevitability. “I considered the possibilities of regeneration a couple of months ago. Become like you, Anastasia, or any of the transgenics out there.”
“It’s a chance for life.”
“It’s my choice,” stated Farrell, and his voice grew hard. “I had my chance. I don’t want to die any more than anyone else does, but I came into this world as a person and want to go out as one. I did what I was supposed to do and no more.”
God, this man was so obstinate, thought Harry, and wanted to tear out his fur with exasperation. Was he against the transformation due to prejudice, or was it something else?
Farrell answered for him. “It’s not you, not because you’re what you are. It’s my choice and mine alone. That’s all.”
Seeing as how the older man wouldn’t change his mind, Harry changed the topic. “Will you be well enough to have a party with us later on? Overton’s going to set the whole thing up at the cabin. We’re thinking of two days from now. We can drive you up with a medical team, just for a few hours...”
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