Island 731

by Jeremy Robinson

  Liquidation.

  Anyone who’d laid eyes on this place was most likely a threat to whoever headed the secret DARPA group that had been running the island since at least the sixties. DARPA as a whole—even if they weren’t aware of the project’s true nature—could be shut down. The agency would probably not recover from what was possibly the worst human rights scandal outside of a war. Worse, if the island and its secrets were revealed to the world, it would be a permanent stain on not just DARPA, but the United States as a whole. Political careers would end. The president would ultimately bear the brunt of the backlash. It would degrade the country’s status in the world. It seemed likely that at least a few other nations had similar secret laboratories—maybe tucked away in the Amazon, or in the wilds of Siberia, or anywhere else hard to reach—but most of those places already had bad reputations. Whoever was on those helicopters knew all that, and they were coming to stop it from happening.

  The line of helicopters now looked like a squadron of angry wasps. “We need to get the hell off this island,” Hawkins said.

  “You mean with them?” Blok asked, pointing at the screen.

  Bray chuckled. “They’re going to kill us.”

  “We’re United States citizens,” Blok said.

  “Well, you can stick around and see how that goes,” Bray said. “We’ll hightail it to the Magellan and get the hell out of Dodge.” He took a small bell from his pocket and gave it a shake. “I’ve got my Get Across the Island Free card.”

  “Not exactly,” Kam said with a cough. “The bell won’t work on the crocs. Or my mother.”

  “Or Bennett’s newest creations,” Hawkins added.

  “BFSs.”

  Hawkins looked at Bray. What?

  Bray shrugged. “‘Big fucking spiders.’ It’s the best I could come up with.”

  “There’s one more,” Kam said. He pushed himself up, grunting in pain. “The litter.”

  Hawkins knew the term “litter” referred to the young of a species, usually mammals, that gave birth to more than one offspring at a time.

  Bray came to the same conclusion as Hawkins, saying, “There are more of those panther savages running around?”

  “They’re not savages,” Kam said. “They’re my brothers and sisters. The one you speak of is Lilly. She’s the oldest of them. And the smartest.”

  “Lilly,” Hawkins said. “I think I spoke to her.”

  “You did?” both Bray and Kam asked.

  “Briefly. In the jungle. Back by the old lab. I think I insulted her,” Hawkins said.

  Kam nodded. “She is easily upset, but rarely violent.”

  Rarely, Hawkins thought. He would have preferred never. “I thought Kaiju had just one child?”

  “My mother has perhaps fifty different species combined within her single body. Some of them reptile, some of them amphibian. Both classes contain species capable of saving and preserving sperm for long periods of time. Based on the egg clutches I’ve seen, she has both active human and turtle reproductive systems.” Kam looked Hawkins in the eyes. “She has laid one clutch per year for the past five years. Maybe ninety eggs total, though only five of the children survived their first year, all from the first two litters.”

  “Why are you telling us this?” Bray asked.

  “I want you to get them off the island.”

  Bray threw his hands up in the air, scoffing.

  Blok shook his head, whispering, “This is insane.”

  “Can they all speak English?” Hawkins asked.

  Kam looked proud for a moment. “I taught them myself.”

  “And what if Bennett turns them on us?” Bray asked.

  “He can’t,” Hawkins said. “Because he doesn’t know about them.”

  Kam gave a slight nod. “While they are a result of the horrible experiments performed here, they have not been tainted by them. They are free of the evil that bent Bennett and made me too weak to stand against him. They are strong. And fierce. Survivors. But they are innocent. While my mother hid their birth, perhaps out of instinct, or some small act of rebellion, she did not raise the children. She does not protect them. She might even kill them if Bennett ordered her to.”

  Bray shook his head. “Ranger, please tell me you’re not considering this.”

  Hawkins agreed that the idea sounded ludicrous. Getting off the island alive seemed less and less likely, never mind being shot, or torn to pieces, if they made it to the Magellan in one piece, and tried sailing the ship out of the lagoon. The helicopters would have to see them. They’d be blasted to pieces before entering the Garbage Patch. Of course, the ship was still inoperable, so the Magellan wasn’t even an option. No, if they wanted to get off the island, they needed Kam’s help. “Where is it?”

  “Where is what?” Bray said.

  “The boat.”

  “It’s not much,” Kam confessed. “We had a nicer ship, but took it to the mainland and left it behind. What’s left is closer to a lobster boat. It’s not fast, but it won’t be easy to see, either.”

  “And…” Hawkins said, sensing a downside.

  “And it won’t get you far, but there is a distress transmitter. You’ll have to survive at sea until you’re rescued.”

  “If we’re rescued,” Bray said. “But I suppose that’s an improvement over being torn apart or napalmed.”

  Kam looked relieved, but weaker than ever. “Thank you. To gather the children and reach the boat, head south from the gallery, through the jungle. You will need the bell.”

  “It’s a big jungle,” Hawkins said. “How will we find them?”

  “They will find you,” Kam replied. “Of that, I have no doubt. But they live in an old bomb shelter. When you meet them, tell them you are the Ranger. I told them about you. That it was your job to protect humans and animals. That they could trust you. Lilly was harder to convince. I thought it was because you nearly shot her, but you insulting her helps explain her reluctance. When I explained your fear to her, she understood. Is that what upset her, your fear?”

  “Before I knew who I was talking to, I referred to the chimeras as ‘things.’”

  Kam pursed his lips for a moment. He looked slightly hurt by the words, too.

  “I didn’t know,” Hawkins said, but then squinted as something occurred to him. “Kam, was this your plan all along? To have the children rescued?”

  Kam shook his head slowly. “But it was my hope.” He held out his hand. Hawkins recognized the gesture as an invitation to perform their practiced handshake. He wasn’t sure what to make of it until he saw the weakness in Kam’s eyes. He was saying good-bye and wanted to know they were still friends.

  Hawkins took his hand. Two shakes in, Kam’s arm went limp. His eyes closed.

  Hawkins took Kam’s arms and shook him gently. “Kam!”

  After a moment, Kam opened his eyes again. He squeezed Hawkins’s hand hard and stared in his eyes with burning intensity. “When you have the children, head south to the shore. The boat is anchored fifty feet out. You’ll have to sw—”

  Kam’s head lolled to the side.

  Hawkins checked his pulse and found nothing. He stood and turned to Blok and Bray. “Anyone have a better idea?

  No one did.

  Hawkins glanced back at the helicopters. They looked impossibly close now. Just one of them filled most of the screen. He took the computer mouse and used it to zoom out the image. He was glad to see that they were still quite some distance off, but knew the fast-moving choppers could close the distance in minutes. They had maybe ten before the kill squad reached the ground.

  It wasn’t much time to do what he needed to do.

  “I want you two to find an exit and go south. If you come across the … children, try to take them with you. Get to the boat.”

  “Whoa, whoa,” Bray said. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m not leaving without Joliet.”

  “It’s a big island, Ranger,” Bray said. “Searching this build
ing alone could take all day. And most of the doors are locked. There’s also, what, twelve BFSs running around?” He stabbed a finger toward the line of helicopters. “If we don’t leave now, and fast, we’re not going to make it far.”

  Hawkins ground his teeth. “Bray, I’m not leaving without her.”

  “Guys,” Blok said.

  “And I’m not leaving without you,” Bray said.

  “Guys!”

  Hawkins and Bray turned to Blok, both saying, “What?”

  “Look,” Blok said, leaning in close to one of the small video feeds.

  Hawkins took a closer look. Trees framed the view on either side, but the shot showed the clearing in front of the sterilized gallery. Standing in the center of the clearing was Bennett. Joliet knelt on the ground in front of him, a gun to the back of her head.

  It took all of Hawkins’s self-control to not fling himself out of the room and charge around the complex looking for an exit. But he knew that would likely just get him killed. So he clenched his fists instead.

  “He doesn’t know about the choppers,” Bray said. “No way he’d be standing around waiting for you if he knew an army of mercenaries was about to drop on his doorstep.”

  Hawkins looked at the incoming helicopters. “We don’t have time. Bennett knew we escaped, so he’s set a trap. Whatever he has waiting for us, even if we can survive it, the mercs will arrive first.”

  Bray smiled fiendishly.

  “What?” Hawkins asked.

  “I have a wicked awesome idea,” Bray said.

  45.

  Bray’s idea was actually suicidal, but it was the best they had. He’d tried to come up with a good Sun Tzu quote to justify the tactic, but settled on one of his own making. “Chaos is only chaos to the people who aren’t expecting it.”

  It had taken them just two minutes to prepare the first part of the plan, though it had nearly cost Blok his life. He’d escaped with a three-inch gash on his thigh, which he was now nursing as he waited for the signal that would announce the beginning of the plan’s second stage.

  Bray had gone off to take care of his part of the scheme. Hawkins wasn’t sure if it would work, or even if it was needed, but Bray insisted on maximizing the confusion. That made sense to Hawkins, but given the conflagration of opposing forces they planned on bringing together, he wasn’t sure anyone would survive, let alone escape.

  But it was their best chance. Their only chance. And it fit GoodTracks’s “more aggressive predator” theory. Actually, what Bray had planned was closer to “most aggressive predator ever,” which was something only the human race could truly pull off, because it involved the recruitment of other species.

  Of course, Bennett had his army, too. Creatures conditioned to do his bidding populated the entire island. Including Kam’s mother, who might be able to handle anything thrown her way outside of a M1A1 Abrams tank.

  Hawkins’s thoughts returned to his part of the plan when he saw the top of the curved, concrete gallery building emerge from behind the tree line. The gray stone path curved through a small stretch of jungle before opening up to the clearing at the front of the building—the clearing where Bennett—and Joliet—waited. Hawkins had the machete sheathed at his waist, along with his broken knife blade and the captive bolt stunner in his right hand, but he longed for a gun. He wasn’t a bad shot. From twenty feet away, he could probably shoot Bennett without fear of striking Joliet. He suspected he could have found one inside the medical complex, but time was short.

  As he rounded the corner with six minutes remaining, the time felt like an eternity. He made no effort to mask his approach. In fact, he did the opposite, feigning a leg injury and scraping his feet through the rough stone. When he emerged from the jungle and faced the gallery, Bennett stood waiting for him with a smile on his face.

  Joliet knelt at his feet.

  The shot would have been so easy, Hawkins thought, looking at Bennett’s exposed torso and head.

  Hawkins did his best to look surprised. “Joliet!” He hobbled forward, moving with a purpose.

  “Mark!” Joliet said, sounding both relieved and concerned.

  Bennett gripped her hair and pressed the gun against her skull. “Quiet.”

  Hawkins’s suspicions were confirmed. There was a trap, and Joliet knew what it was, but if she spoke, he’d kill her and the trap would be sprung anyway. “Let her go.”

  “Pfft!” Bennett laughed. “Where would she go?”

  Hawkins knew it was a silly request. Bennett wouldn’t let her go, and if he did, she’d be in no less danger. But Hawkins wasn’t looking for a fight, either. He just needed to kill five more minutes.

  “That’s close enough,” Bennett said when Hawkins got within twenty feet.

  Hawkins shuffled to a stop, looking exhausted and beaten, which wasn’t really a stretch. He considering going for his knife and whipping it at Bennett. With the handle broken off, just about any part of the blade would do the trick. But getting the handleless blade out of the sheath and throwing it before Bennett pulled the trigger wouldn’t be possible. So he just stood and waited, letting the seconds pass by.

  Bennett’s smile faded. He apparently expected a little more banter from Hawkins. “The others are dead?” he finally asked.

  Hawkins grimaced.

  “Blok stayed in his cell.”

  “Of course,” Bennett said. “He would, wouldn’t he? I never liked the man. Spent more time in the fantasy worlds conjured by other people’s minds.”

  “You should try it,” Hawkins said. “Might not be such an asshole.”

  Bennett grinned. “Jones no doubt died with his daughter.”

  Hawkins’s earnest scowl confirmed it.

  “And Bray? I’m surprised you left him on his own. Did he become an incubator, too?”

  “It was Jim,” Hawkins said.

  “How is the last surviving Tweedle?” Bennett asked, growing more excited with every revelation.

  “Out of his misery,” Hawkins said.

  Bennett’s mouth opened to form an amused O shape. “You didn’t!”

  Hawkins held up the bolt stunner, revealing the blood splashed on its tip. He loathed the idea of entertaining Bennett with such details, but the man was engaged. He’d even let go of Joliet’s hair, which was good because when the shit hit the fan, she would need to run like hell. He just wished he could warn her about it.

  “Why are you doing this, Bennett?” Hawkins asked. Kam had told him a lot, but he couldn’t reveal what he’d already learned. Bennett would know he’d seen the security feeds and that he had come out here to face him on purpose.

  With a casual shrug, Bennett said, “It’s fun.”

  Hawkins heard a hint of pain in his voice.

  “Bullshit,” Hawkins said.

  Bennett’s smile faded. “You disagree?”

  Hawkins didn’t need to answer. The fire burning in his eyes was answer enough.

  Joliet, on the other hand, couldn’t not reply. “Murdering and mutilating people is fun? You’re a sick fu—”

  “Joliet,” Hawkins chided. He wanted to engage Bennett, not antagonize him.

  Bennett glared at the back of Joliet’s head for a moment, then looked back at Hawkins. “It’s not all about the killing, you know.”

  “Then what’s with the cameras around the island? I’ve seen them everywhere.”

  “You have good eyes,” Bennett said.

  Hawkins worried he’d said too much, but some of the cameras weren’t hidden very well. “Once I saw the camera mounted on top of the old lab, I knew what to look for.”

  “Ahh, yes,” Bennett said. “Didn’t hide those very well, did I?”

  “If you’re watching, how is this island any different than an ancient Roman coliseum?”

  “Because I’m not watching for entertainment,” Bennett said. “Well, fine, maybe sometimes. But when physiology and biology began to bore me, I took an interest in sociology. At first I just watched people, observing
the subtle nuances of body language and tone of voice. It’s how I know you lied about Bray. He’s not dead.”

  Hawkins tried not to react. He’d guessed right about Bray, but didn’t mention Blok.

  “You can try to hide what you’re thinking, but it’s nearly impossible.” Bennett looked Hawkins over. “For example. Your limp is fake. Which means you knew I was here. And here’s where it gets fun. You could have made a run for it. Maybe get back to the Magellan and escape. It’s what most people would do. But you came here”—he tapped the gun against Joliet’s head—“for her. Since arriving, you’ve looked at her more than me, despite me having a gun. You came knowing I was waiting for you. And prepared for you. Which means, and correct me if I’m wrong, that you’re in love with Joliet.”

  Hawkins said nothing. Apparently, he didn’t need to.

  “And given Joliet’s lack of surprise, not to mention how she wept earlier when I told her you were dead—that was a lie, by the way—I’d say the feeling was mutual. Of course, you both already knew that. But you’re both cowards, which is also interesting because when it comes to physical danger, you’re both somewhat reckless. And that brings us back to the here and now, with Hawkins risking not just his life, but also Bray’s in an attempt to save the damsel in distress. Where is Bray? Hiding in the bushes? Circling around the gallery for an ambush?”

  Hawkins noted Bennett’s total lack of concern regarding both scenarios.

  “How’d I do?” Bennett asked. “Pretty accurate, right?”

  Hawkins quickly scanned the area, looking for Bennett’s trap. He saw nothing but the dull, gray concrete of the gallery wall, its soot-rimmed entryway, and jungle all around. Nothing. But his sensitive ears picked up the distant staccato chop of approaching helicopters. He spoke loudly, hoping to drown out the sound until it was too late. “So you’re conducting social experiments, too, watching the reactions people have to your creations? I can actually understand how someone like you would need that kind of stimulation.”

  “Someone like me?”

  Hawkins didn’t know a lot about psychology, but understood human nature and could bullshit with the best of them. He needed to keep Bennett distracted so he used the information Kam had revealed about Bennett’s upbringing and launched into his prognosis of the man, doing his best to make it sound convincing. “You were born here. Raised by scientists, who, let’s admit, are generally obsessed with their work and don’t make for very loving parents. You were smart. Uncommonly smart. But you were still a child, and children need the love of their parents in order to thrive. Desperate for affection, you feigned an interest in your parents’ work. It sickened you. How could it not? You were a kid. But your parents were finally paying attention to you. Maybe celebrating your early accomplishments. Their recognition made you feel loved, probably for the first time in your screwed-up life, so you tried harder. Pushed further. And with each success, you felt an outpouring of affection. Each successful experiment was followed by a rush of dopamine. After a few years, the experiments alone provided an intense feeling of love. No need for praise from Mommy and Daddy.