by LC Champlin
In reply, Nathan drew his Glock. He held it out the window just enough to achieve a clear shot. “Cover your ears again.”
Bang!
The lead struck the bullet-resistant glass of the SUV. “I figured. I hope you’re good at evasion, Birk, because that’s what we’re going to do.”
“I hope this stupid doobie ashtray can handle it.” He leaned back as the vehicle accelerated. He wove in and out of what passed for traffic. The attacks and outbreak severely limited people’s willingness to leave their homes.
“Birk, was it really that bad at Mercury?” Nathan asked as the civic outpaced the Suburbans. Pot Head might have lived in a trailer, but he’d invested in a powerful engine for his vehicle. “You’re here, with me, which points to it being less than stellar.”
“It was paradise, if you like being locked in a basement and forced to produce successful projects.”
“Better than prison, though, wasn’t it?”
Lip curling, Birk growled. “Where are we going?”
Behind, one of the SUV’s gained ground. Good; it would make a better target.
“I had planned to go to the authorities, Doctor, but I have a feeling these people will beat us to the punch.”
“As far as I know, they were on good terms with the cops. I don’t mean they bought them fried chicken, but management never seemed to worry about them kicking the door down. That’s just from what I gleaned during the limited interactions I had with my coworkers.” Sarcasm as dark and thick as cannibal venom coated the last sentence.
“If we arrive in this vehicle, ignoring the fact that it’s stolen, they’re not likely to consider us credible witnesses.”
“Marijuana’s legal here. And it’s third-hand smoke; we won’t test positive.”
“I’m aware, but approaching the authorities while smelling like a stoner doesn’t make a good first impression.”
“Good. I don’t like the idea of running to the nearest cop like I’m a lost toddler. Don’t you have friends with the DHS?”
“If you happen to pass a DHS office, then by all means, flag them down. Unfortunately, I don’t have a way of contacting them directly.”
Birk laughed. “What kind of pathetic crony are you? I know you’re not really working with Lexa, by the way.”
“Suffice it to say I am a free agent but still answerable to the government. They’re awaiting evidence on LOGOS. We want to shut the bastards down.” Nathan’s grip tightened on his pistol.
“Me too,” Birk growled.
“How much do you remember about the convoy you were in before being kidnapped?” Evidently not much, considering he hadn’t opened the discussion with the fact that they had shared the same Paddy wagon—and the same uniform.
“Not much.” Birk accelerated past a car ahead, then cut in front. “I was in my cell and they told me to take some pills. Then everything gets fuzzy. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a dorm room. It was in the basement of the Mercury building. Now is the first time I’ve left their dungeon since then.”
At this point in the chaos, LOGOS didn’t care about subtly. “Are there other researchers held like you were?” Nathan regarded the former prisoner: sallow, strained, with a shade of the maniac in his calculating stare.
“I wasn’t exactly allowed to stroll the grounds. I was barely allowed to speak to the people around me unless it was work related. There are guards, and the rooms are bugged.”
“That’s the way the cookie crumbles when you play the game, I suppose.”
“I don’t know what was worse, government custody, or LOGOS’s.”
“The same thing but different?”
The traffic ahead slowed by ten miles an hour. Behind, the SUVs accelerated. One took the left lane. Shit, it would try the PIT maneuver. If it could tap the rear panel of the Civic with its front panel, it would send the Civic spinning out of control. Cops employed it frequently to halt fleeing vehicles.
Nathan leaned out the left window enough to put the weapon online. Sights over the front tire. If the SUV pulled up another yard, it would come in range to PIT the little red can. Movement in the Suburban’s passenger window. An AR jutted from the opening.
Now! Nathan’s Glock roared.
The black behemoth swerved left, its front left tire shredding. “Got it.”
“Nice shooting, Annie Oakley.”
Nathan glanced over his shoulder at the road. “Left here. The Hyatt is our destination.”
“A hotel? A little stationary for escape, isn’t it?”
“Patience, Doctor.”
Chapter 53
Hall of the Mountain King
In the Dark with Divinity – Slug Comparisson
June 4, 2016—
“This is a map of the area.” Kingston tapped the printed diagram on the check-in desk’s counter. “Here are your copies.” He handed a pamphlet to each adult. Albin pocketed his in favor of listening to the explanation. “There’s Wi-Fi here, so you can download the place’s app. It has a map and other features. I prefer the papers, though.” He winked. “There’s a gym and pool for recreation. These are other areas for the community’s functioning: garden”—he pointed to the space—“dog park, waste processing center, meeting room, fabrication facility, and maintenance and security rooms. The blue sections are the residential areas.” The map resembled a diagram of an ant nest but with angular chambers rather than rounded branching from the central shaft.
“Security?” Albin raised a brow.
“We have our own police force, so to speak. They’re usually pretty low profile.”
“Useful information.”
“You guys must be tired after your kidnapping.” At this, Kingston grew serious. “Let’s get you to your room.” Returning to the guest-side of the desk, he continued, “It’s big enough for all of you.”
He guided them back to the courtyard, then down a passage that branched from the walkway. Upon reaching a cream-colored door, he halted.
Albin took the point position as they filed into the accommodations. The “guest dorm” matched any luxury vacation home. Tasteful Western decor, but sans big-game trophies, gave the area interest. In the main living room, which they entered first, leather armchairs and a couch sat around a massive flat-screen television. A full home entertainment system flanked it, with a glass-fronted bookcase of DVDs.
To the right opened the kitchen. To the left, a library. The hall beyond them likely led to bathrooms and bedrooms.
“Make yourselves at home,” Kingston invited. “The television gets thousands of channels. At least, it did before this mess. The phone line can be used as a satellite phone. There’s food in the kitchen. If you need to reach me, you can ask the security officer on duty. His number’s on the fridge. Well, I’ll see you later.”
Albin and the others voiced their thanks and farewells.
When the door closed behind the man, silence dropped over the newcomers, heavy with disbelief.
Behrmann spoke first: “All right, what is going on?” She looked about at her companions as if they played a prank on her.
Albin shook his head as he moved deeper into the guest dorm. Rather than windows, light tubes fed illumination from above ground. Here and there a screen set into the wall displayed images of the mountains outside. High definition made them appear almost real.
Further scouting showed four bedrooms, an office, and a game room branching from the hall. Everything bore the professional polish of a five-star hotel.
“Hey, look!” Denver exclaimed from the room the Musters had claimed. “They’ve got a towel animal on the bed, just like on cruise ships.”
“There’s one in every room,” Taylor reported. “They’re all dogs.”
A cloth dog sat on the center of Albin’s bedspread as well.
Denver ambled into the hall. “On the cruise, there was a different one every day.”
“Hey!” Bridges’s voice drifted fr
om the kitchen. “Max wasn’t kidding; the fridge is loaded. And there’s even dog food in the cabinet.”
Albin smirked. Bridges, pragmatic to a fault.
Exiting the bedroom, Albin moved to the office, which continued the Western theme by employing a weathered wood desk. Kingston had mentioned the telephone. Perhaps Kenichi Oshiro would receive a call.
Albin lifted the receiver, then paused. Should he allow these people to know he called? Did they care? They had welcomed strangers into their compound, indicating preparation rather than paranoia led them to live in a bunker.
He dialed. It rang, and continued to ring. When no voicemail came after the tenth ring, he dropped the receiver back in the cradle.
As the attorney entered the kitchen, Bridges looked up from pressing the top slice of bread on to his triple-decker sandwich. Judge did not look up from wolfing down kibble. “Who did you call?”
“Our friend in the Fortress was unreachable.”
“Are you going to call Nathan’s father-in-law?” Behrmann asked as she joined them.
“Perhaps later.” If the situation grew untenable. Considering the situations he had dealt with recently, it would have to prove hopeless in the extreme.
On the topic of Mr. Serebus, a number of case documents still remained for review. Albin returned to his room, where he dropped onto the edge of the bed. He withdrew the tablet from his backpack, but instead of powering it on, he gazed into the black screen. His reflection stared back, hollow-eyed and emotionless as a skull. Why bother wasting time with the documents? Assuming Kenichi-san spoke the truth and the agents sympathized with LOGOS, they may have given him inaccurate documents. Even if the files held the truth, the government possessed a strong if not airtight case. Albin’s best course lay in finding the best criminal attorney money could buy. That said, he would still seek to contact Mr. Serebus face to face.
Albin sank back on the pillows. He should visit the library, or look in on his comrades. But rising from the bed would require superhuman effort. Absently he rummaged through his sparse belongings. The Bible lay at the bottom of his bag, having sifted there due to its weight. He withdrew it. Since he could do nothing at the moment except wait, he may as well attempt to relax his mind.
He turned to the Old Testament. The book of Daniel would do. Fires, beasts, and tyrants seemed fitting.
Chapter 54
Man Created Dinosaurs
Prophecy of Ragnarök – Brothers of Metal
June 5, 2016—
Birk pulled the Civic around the buildings at the north end of the parking lot, then on to the Hyatt’s driveway. A Suburban trailed them.
Nathan climbed back into the front seat. “Park close to the door.”
Looking skeptical, Birk obeyed. As the car slowed, Nathan grabbed his duffle. The fugitives hopped out, Nathan in the lead.
They strode into the lobby with the assurance of guests who’d already checked in. Nathan headed toward the elevators. He hit the up button while waving Birk down the hall.
Behind, the glass doors opened to admit two men wearing security-guard uniforms and plate carriers. They’d opted to leave the rifles in the SUV.
The elevator doors opened. Nathan reached in and pressed the 3. Then he veered down the hall.
Hands in his pockets but veins in his forehead pulsing, Birk waited at the intersection, out of view from the pursuers.
“Damn it,” one of the guards growled to his colleague, “they went upstairs.”
“I’ll go get the security here,” replied LOGOS Jackboot #2. “You go up to the first floor.”
Nathan risked a peek around the corner. One of the bastards set off for the front desk, while his partner started toward the stairs.
The glass entry doors opened again. Nathan edged into the hall as Sophia sauntered in, also acting as if she belonged there. She gave him the slightest glance, then flicked her hair from her face, raising her eyebrows as she did. This served as a gesture toward the vehicle outside.
At the front desk, the LOGOS fucker attempted to persuade the pale, anxious manager to give him access to the security cameras.
Sophia strode to the counter. “Hey, buddy, leave her alone a minute. I need to drop my luggage off. It’s been a long day. I just drove all the way here from New Mexico.”
The guard turned a glower on her. “My business is more important than yours right now.”
“It’s not your call.”
As they argued, Nathan and Birk made for the exit.
A Ford Escape waited. Fitting. Nathan opened the back seat for Birk, then swung in the front. “Keep low.”
“No shit, Sherlock. I thought maybe I’d get out and start dancing on the roof.”
“Later, perhaps.”
Thirty seconds passed before Sophia stormed out, smartphone pressed to her ear. She marched around the front of the vehicle. After she slid in—slam! The Ford shook at the force of the door’s closure. She gunned the engine.
“The covered drive-in?” Birk asked from the back seat, pointing to the concrete roof. “That’s why you chose this? You believe they’re watching via satellite or drone, huh.”
“Pretty sure,” Sophia affirmed as she guided the Escape back onto the highway. She sniffed. “Why do you smell like weed?”
“When in Rome,” Nathan drawled. He straightened in the seat. “I was planning to visit the nearest law enforcement agency, but I’ll wait until I can find a shower or a bottle of Febreze. You mentioned you had resources, I believe?”
“A hideout, so to speak.”
“Doctor Birk.” Nathan turned to lock gazes with him. “What is LOGOS’s plan? I know their new breed is more difficult to kill, and apparently they can direct them to a degree, but I highly doubt they’re going to take over the world with a few cannibals wielding clubs.”
A gruesome grin spread across Birk’s face. “You’re so far behind them it’s pathetic. And you call yourself intelligent? You think you’re the Big Bad Wolf? You—”
“Remember your situation, Birk.” And imagine how worse it could grow. “Answer the question.”
“Don’t you get it?” The grin widened. “They figured it out.”
“What?” Sophia glanced in the mirror at him. “Do you mean—”
“I mean, they know how to control the cannibals.” Reveling in the thrill of knowing more than others, Birk spread his arms. “And not just those with clubs. The can control all the cannibals.”
Nathan stopped breathing. No. The little bastard must be lying. “If that’s so, why haven’t they taken control of them and the world yet? Are they waiting for the right phase of the moon?”
“They have their own plans. But they’re very close. It’s part of why I wanted to escape. We need to stop them before they can implement the final phase of their plan.”
Sophia wrinkled her nose in mystification. “But you had a better chance of doing that while you were inside with them.”
Birk gave a snide smile. “Oh, yes, silly me! I should have stayed a prisoner with them. I had access to all their top-level controls.” He snorted. “I can tell you what they’re planning; I just can’t stop it.”
Nathan twisted in the seat to look him full in the face. “When are they planning to implement their control?”
“Rumor was they planned a test of the final phase for tomorrow night. I don’t know if that’s still true, though.” Birk shook his head, even paler and greener than when he smelled the skunk weed.
LOGOS could at last control the cannibals. All of them. If Nathan could secure the specifics of this plan, he would earn his freedom. Simple. No problem. A walk in the park. . . . Jurassic Park, at night, during a power outage.
Chapter 55
Adult Supervision Required
I’ll Stop the End of the World – Marc Robillard
June 5, 2016—
Howls and yips echoed in Albin’s mind. Unlike previous nights, they did not ache with pain
and sorrow. Instead, they strained with expectancy and excitement, like those of wolves surrounding prey.
Rubbing the grit of sleep from his eyes, he murmured, “Because I am seeking Fenrir at last, eh?”
After showering, he proceeded to the kitchen. The clock on the stove displayed 07:31 am. Considering how many time zones he had traversed in the past weeks, he counted himself fortunate to know day from night. If his companions had awakened before him and ventured into the wider world, he knew not.
A survey of the food stocks produced an American breakfast of bacon and eggs. He prepared coffee, but not for himself.
The scent of food brought Denver and Taylor forth from their room. They blinked and yawned their way to the breakfast bar, where they took seats on the stools.
“Good morning,” he greeted them. “Would you care for breakfast?”
This woke them fully. Taylor opened her mouth to reply, but Denver answered first, beaming: “You bet! I’m starving.”
“What would you like?” He recited the litany of breakfast food available.
They settled on eggs, bacon, and pancakes.
“Very good, but the rule is you must assist in preparation.” He gave them the stern look he directed at David Serebus in the same situation.
As the girls began the pancake batter, he saw to the eggs. Memories of acting as “head chef” in the Serebus household after winning the rock, paper, scissors, lizard, Spock contest surfaced. The family considered it an honor to prepare a meal for the other members. After losing a determining round, Mr. Serebus often demanded “best out of three” or even an alternate method of selection. His son found unending entertainment in this. Young David took his turn under the supervision of the adults. He would glow with pride when he won the title.
“What does your mother like for breakfast,” he asked the girls as he monitored their pouring of the pancakes.
“Oh, she has one of her healthy smoothies,” Denver responded, wrinkling her nose.
