Generation M (The Toucan Trilogy, Book 3)
Page 23
Navigating the maze was difficult, and with Doctor Droznin yelling at her, it was even harder. “Please be quiet,” Abby said. “I’m going to get it.”
Doctor Droznin sighed in resignation.
“Keep talking to me. I want to know that you are all right.” Her tone was one of concern with a dash of fear.
Abby groaned in frustration when the back of her shirt caught on something. She reversed direction until she was free.
If she were on her back, she could avoid such hang-ups. As she rolled over, her hipbone scraped against the bottom of a machine and almost got stuck, but she completed the turn.
That solved the problem of snagged clothing — her hands were free in case she got caught up again — but it meant she moved more slowly, and she couldn’t see where she was going.
She kept bumping her head and shoulders against vertical pipes. The only way to go around them was to bend her arms and legs and contort her body. She pretended she was playing Twister, a game where someone spun a needle and a player had to put a hand or foot on the color the needle stopped on. If you tumbled over, you lost. The longer the game lasted, the more contorted the players became. She was the Leigh-family champ, beating Jordan nine times out of ten.
After making good progress, she paused to catch her breath. Layer and layer of intricate piping and wires ran straight above her. She ended her rest when she imagined the destruction an explosion would cause to the delicate equipment.
“How are you doing?” Doctor Droznin called.
“I’m almost there.”
It was true. She must have been within ten feet of the object, but she didn’t tell Doctor Droznin that it could take her another thirty minutes.
5.07
ALPHARETTA
Mathews stood forty meters from the plant, gripping Toby by the scruff of his neck. With her were Doctor Perkins and two ensigns. As Dawson approached the group, Mathews leveled her M-16 assault rifle at him and barked, “Lift your pant legs.”
Dawson did as she requested, lifting them one at a time. He noted she and the ensigns wore bulletproof vests, and he spotted a remote detonator and walkie-talkie clipped to Mathews’s belt.
“Pockets.” She waved the rifle’s barrel.
Dawson turned his pockets inside out.
“Hands up. Turn around.”
Dawson raised his hands and slowly turned around.
“Pat him down.”
An ensign patted Dawson’s legs, his backside, and his chest.
“Beecham or Ryan?” Dawson asked.
“Shut up,” Mathews commanded.
“He’s clean,” the ensign told her.
Knowing that Toby had a defiant streak, Dawson was especially concerned for his safety. Toby glared at Mathews.
“You have me,” Dawson said. “Let the boy go.”
“Two birds in the hand are better than one,” Doctor Perkins said in a singsong tone.
The scientist appeared to be his unflappable self. Under his lab coat, he wore a pink shirt and green bowtie. He could have passed for a college professor on his way to deliver a lecture.
“I’m impressed with your ingenuity, Lieutenant,” Perkins continued. “How were you able to override the CDC’s station signal?”
What was Perkins talking about? Dawson stared back at the scientist, hoping he’d learn more.
“Very well, I love mysteries,” Perkins said.
Toby muttered a curse at Mathews.
In response, quick as a lizard, Mathews swung the butt of the gun around, stopping just short of Toby’s ear, and then smiled.
She was sending both Toby and Dawson a message. She could crack Toby’s skull like an eggshell in the blink of an eye.
Dawson shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, ready to leap if any harm came to Toby.
Toby cursed again, and Mathews’s cheeks flushed red.
“Captain,” Perkins said, “let’s see if Lieutenant Dawson can talk some sense into Doctor Hedrick and the others. Hand him the radio.”
With a sneer, Mathews unclipped the radio from her belt and placed it on the ground. Then she grabbed Toby’s ear and yanked him back several steps.
Having his ear almost ripped off must have hurt, but Toby remained silent.
Dawson picked up the radio and brought it to his lips. Pretending to push the button, he said, “Doctor Hedrick, this is Lieutenant Dawson, over. Doctor Hedrick, come in.”
After a moment, he held the radio by his side and pressed the button that would allow Sandy to hear what he was saying. “Doctor Hedrick, Doctor Droznin, Doctor Levine, and others are apparently choosing to stay inside the plant. They’ve decided they no longer want to follow the warped ideas of Doctor Perkins, who is about to become the greatest mass murderer in human history. It’s not too late to help the hundreds of thousands of survivors.” Dawson eyed the ensigns, who he believed might crack under pressure first.
Mathews trained her weapon at Dawson’s chest. “Doctor Perkins, do I have your permission to fire?”
5.08
ALPHARETTA
On her back, slick with sweat of her own making, Abby inched along the polished cement floor. Perspiration soaked her clothing and plastered her hair to her face. She’d given up trying to spit the strands out of her mouth.
“Are you close?” Doctor Droznin called.
“Yes.”
“How close?”
Even with her head tilted back as far as it would go and her eyes rolled back, Abby couldn’t see the wall.
Above her, coils and loops and lengths of silver-colored and copper tubing, all intermingled with wiring, connected to more of the same.
A wave of claustrophobia washed through her and panicking, she felt her throat close up, which made her panic more.
“Abigail, are you there yet?”
Abby gritted her teeth and resumed her snail’s journey.
“Abigail, answer me.”
After a few inches of progress, Abby again arched her neck and rolled her eyes back in their sockets. Seeing the wall for the first time gave her a burst of courage.
“I’m almost there,” she cried.
She lengthened her right side, then the left, using her shoulder blades for purchase, and moved in a rhythm similar to rowing.
She groaned when the crown of her head struck another a metal post. Wrapping her right hand around the post, she pulled and guided her head past it, protecting her ear. To search for other posts, she stretched out her other arm and finally touched the wall.
Maneuvering herself until her body pressed against the wall lengthwise, she reached up and felt around for the object.
Her blood turned cold when her fingertips brushed against a waxy surface. Doctor Droznin asked for updates, but Abby remained silent, focusing all her thoughts and energy on the task of getting the bomb into her hand. She nudged it right and left, but couldn’t reach up high enough to grasp it.
By lightly pressing against it and dragging her fingers down, she managed to roll it up and onto a pipe. She held her breath as it balanced there. One more gentle swipe down was all it took before she was cradling the C4 in her palm.
“I have it,” she called.
“Describe it for me,” Doctor Droznin said.
“It’s shaped like a ball, and it has a little thing sticking out of it.”
“Roll it to me,” Doctor Droznin said.
That was a terrible idea. It would surely strike one of the numerous metal posts in the way. Then what? Even if it didn’t blow up, Abby might never find it, or reach it. She had to carry it out herself.
“Abigail, roll it.”
Abby had no intention of rolling it, and now she faced her greatest challenge yet — turning around.
5.09
ALPHARETTA
Planted as firm as a rock, Mathews trained her weapon on Dawson. From four feet away, the odds of her cutting him to shreds were one hundred percent, if that’s what she decided to do.
She gripped To
by by the ear and held his head at an awkward angle. Dawson sensed the boy’s rage building.
In his peripheral vision, he saw Perkins deep in thought. The ensigns, standing beside Perkins, looked every bit as mean and nasty as Mathews, but he discounted their appearance. Beecham and Ryan, he thought, wished they were a million miles away.
Dawson inhaled and exhaled through his nose, trying to slow his racing heart. “You killed Admiral Samuels in cold blood. Are you going to kill me too?”
Mathews didn’t flinch. “Shut up.”
The ensigns exchanged worried glances. Apparently, the admiral’s murder was news to them.
Toby balled a fist, and Dawson feared the boy would try something stupid.
Mathews seemed to read Dawson’s mind and jerked Toby’s ear hard. “Easy does it, mister.”
Toby yelped and cursed at her.
“Lieutenant, I’m afraid I’m responsible for Admiral Samuels’s demise,” Perkins said in a strangely courteous tone. “Captain Mathews was simply following orders. You see, I suspected your disloyalty since the early days of Colony East. How many times did you ask permission to search for your daughter? I always worried you might just leave.”
“She shot the admiral in cold blood,” Dawson repeated.
Perkins let out a long sigh, as if Dawson was a petulant child acting up.
“Hurricane David broke the camel’s back,” he said. “I never believed that it was a coincidence that one of your cadets tried to escape. Abigail Leigh never jumped in the Hudson River as you reported, did she?”
“It’s treason to murder an officer,” Dawson said.
Perkins ignored his comment.
“My opportunity to neutralize you happened as a result of the evacuation. I assigned you to Colony West, but suspecting you might have some trick up your sleeve, I asked Captain Mathews to share some misinformation with you.”
Dawson swallowed the lump in his throat, wondering if they had some unknown advantage over him.
“You took the bait,” Perkins continued. “You and 761 broke into my lab at Medical Clinic 17 and found what you believed were antibiotic pills. You stole three thousand sugar pills.”
Dawson’s knees wobbled as he conjured up the memory of holding Sarah’s warm, tiny hand. Having taken a useless sugar pill, his daughter might be dead now. Multiple explosions of rage detonated at once, and he had to exercise every ounce of his willpower to keep from leaping forward and snapping Perkins’s neck like a twig.
Perkins cocked his head with a quizzical expression. “Lieutenant, are you learning about the placebos for the first time? If you passed them out, you must have realized that nobody got better.”
Dawson lifted his chin. There was a fleeting chance Sarah was still alive; he needed to bring her the real antibiotic. And hundreds of thousands of desperately ill survivors needed the pills just as urgently, including those he had given the fake pills to.
“Mathews gunned down the admiral,” Dawson said, trying to break through to Ensign Ryan and Ensign Beecham.
Perkins gave a dismissive shrug. “We knew you would head to the Red Zone. It was the most logical exit point with the electric fence down. Looking back, my mistake was sharing my plan with the admiral. I believe he experienced a pang of guilt. He wanted to save you. Mathews had no idea the admiral would turn up.”
All of a sudden, Perkins frowned and craned his neck. Mathews and the two ensigns did the same.
Dawson became aware of a rumbling in the distance. He felt the vibrations in his ears and bones. The harmonic throbbing grew louder and louder. He didn’t have a clue what, or who, was approaching.
5.10
ALPHARETTA
From his motorcycle, Jordan saw a tall water tower rising beyond a factory ahead of them. Even with a few mislabeled roads, Toby’s map had delivered them to the Alpharetta industrial park. The tower was supposedly next to the antibiotic pill plant.
Jordan goosed his throttle. The roads were relatively clear, so it was safe to increase his speed. His growing anxiety and surging exhilaration demanded he go faster.
Spike and Jonzy rode on his left and right, respectively, and immediately behind them were Pale Rider and her three lieutenants.
Farther back were hundreds, maybe thousands, of kids on motorcycles. During the nonstop ride, Jordan had seen kids drop out of their column, running out of gas or weakening from the Pig, but it seemed that more joined the ranks all the time for a net gain. On one straight stretch of highway, the riders had extended as far back as he could see.
Jordan revved his engine, shifting up a gear, ready to fight the adults, but hoping they might find a peaceful solution.
As they approached the pill plant, Spike pointed to a small group of people standing fifty yards from an enormous building. One vehicle was parked near the building, another close to the people. Jordan recognized the vehicles were Humvees, the type of vehicle that soldiers used to drive.
From this distance, the people looked like adults. They were the first individuals over the age of fifteen that Jordan had seen in three years. As he neared them, he became certain they were adults, and then he spotted what he thought was a kid among them.
Two of the adults sprinted to the Humvee closest to them, jumped in, and squealed the tires, heading toward the gate. Jordan worried they would collide with him and the other bikers at the head of the column. Pale Rider roared ahead — straight for the vehicle. If she had a weapon, Jordan didn’t see it. He expected they would flatten her, but then the vehicle swerved and accelerated in the opposite direction. The Humvee drove to the left of the building and was soon out of sight.
“It’s Toby!” Jonzy cried.
Jordan realized the boy with the shaved head was indeed Toby Jones. Closer, it appeared the woman next to Toby was aiming a gun at him.
Jordan rolled to a stop twenty yards from the group and dismounted. Jonzy and Spike did the same.
“The guy in blue is Lieutenant Dawson,” Jonzy told them. “The guy in the white coat is Doctor Perkins. The one with the gun is Lieutenant Mathews.”
“What’s her problem?” Spike muttered.
The boys approached the group.
“Toby, are you all right?” Jordan asked.
“It’s about time you showed up,” Toby replied.
“Shut up,” Mathews said jerked Toby’s ear.
“You are screwed,” Toby told her.
She cuffed the side of his head. He shook off the blow and cursed at her. She cuffed him again, harder.
Asking for a third smack, Toby spit on Mathews’s boots, but this time, she jammed the gun barrel against his forehead. “Try me. One more word.”
Showing no fear, Toby glared back, and Jordan feared Toby would call her bluff. He doubted she was bluffing.
“Where’s Abby?” Jordan asked.
“Abby’s inside the plant,” Lieutenant Dawson said. “She’s safe.” Holding up his hands, he took a step toward Mathews. “Let’s talk.”
“Keep coming if you want to talk about a dead boy,” Mathews fired back.
Jordan drew in a sharp breath when Dawson advanced another step.
5.11
ALPHARETTA
The situation was ready to explode, the dynamics shifting by the second, and Dawson realized that his next move could determine the fate of Toby and untold numbers of survivors.
The blood had drained from Mathews’s face, and blossoms of perspiration spread from under her arms, darkening her uniform. Her eyes darted from him to the growing number of kids arriving on motorcycles. Ensigns Beecham and Ryan had driven off in the Humvee, leaving her stranded with the mad man.
A cornered animal was the most dangerous kind.
“Mathews, why don’t you just leave,” Dawson told her. “I won’t try to stop you.”
“What about them?” She nodded to the bikers.
The riders were fanning out in a slack noose around them. “You have a weapon,” he said. “They’ll let you go.”
“Shut up,” Mathews said, unclipping the remote detonator from her belt. She held it high. “I have something far deadlier than an M-16. I can cripple the plant. Without antibiotic pills, everyone here will die.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Toby shouted. “Mark removed the explosives from the plant.”
Mathews’s easy smile sent a chill down Dawson’s spine. “How many charges did you find, Lieutenant? I bet twelve. They were relatively easy to find, right? Well, you must give me more credit than that. Did you find lucky charge thirteen? One strategically placed charge of C4 is all it takes.”
Toby elbowed her in the gut.
Mathews didn’t flinch. The blow seemed to have the force of a gnat. Fire belched from her weapon, and Toby jerked back as the bullets tore into him. He stumbled and sprawled on the ground.
Dawson sprung forward, flying through the sound waves of Toby’s blood-curdling screams. His fingertips grazed the gun barrel as Mathews began firing indiscriminately.
He thudded to the ground and grabbed her ankle, yanking it toward him. She toppled backward, continuing to fire the weapon, raining hot lead into the sky.
When Mathews landed on her back, he lurched, trying desperately to push the gun away and get a hand on her throat at the same time.
He threw himself to the ground and grabbed her jaw, but somehow she spun away, got to her knees, and chopped the gun butt down on his shoulder. His right arm went numb.
Mathews had dropped the detonator, but Dawson didn’t see it anywhere.
She was lowering the barrel at him when he lunged at her. Dawson expected the lights to go out at any second, expecting to be dead before he hit the ground. Instead, his shoulder slammed into her midsection, and she discharged the weapon with the muzzle next to his ear.
Deafened by the loud blast, he watched Jonzy and Jordan land on top of Mathews. Jordan pinned the gun to the ground with his body, and Jonzy wrapped his arms around her legs. Mathews easily broke free of Jonzy and kicked him in the face, smashing Jonzy’s eyeglasses.