Oh great, Peterson’s created something new! Paul immediately got inside and started the engine. “It’s time to go,” he said and a note of urgency entered his voice. “I’m saying we gotta go now!”
His warning came about three seconds too late, as the soldiers seemed to morph in front of them from humans into things inhuman. One of them became a vampire similar to Angela, although this one was male. The other six became zombies, suddenly towering over everything and everyone. “Brains,” one of them said. “Give us brains.”
“Grow your own,” Quill said, and flung her barbs at them. She then stopped and stared as her weapons stuck, but the creatures brushed them off and continued to advance.
“They’ve been upgraded,” Paul said in awe, secretly somewhat jealous of Peterson’s ability. Although the man was indeed a monster, he had more than enough intelligence to endow his test subjects with more improvements each time out, much like a computer game having different and more difficult levels each time a player played it.
One of the zombies ran over to the driver’s side and started smashing on the door. Quill led the rest away by chucking her quills at them. Most of them bounced off, but a few got through and their steps eventually got slower. “Are you okay?” she yelled as she ran.
“You mean me?” he called out.
“Yeah, I mean you.”
“I’m working on it.”
He scuttled over to the passenger side, and frantically searched for a weapon. He had none…but he did find a lighter and spotted a half full tank of gas. Ripping off part of his hoodie’s sleeve, he lit it, shoved the flaming cloth into the tank and tore out the door. “Move,” he cried, and Quill immediately took off.
Seconds counted, and he heard a shrill cry from overhead. Looking up, ten feet above him, Angela slashed her opponent’s face, which caused him to jerk his head back. The move left his throat vulnerable, and Angela took the opportunity to bite into his neck. “Down here,” he called and pointed at the car, which was starting to smolder. A few flames licked out from the rear.
She dropped the corpse, and it smashed onto the hood. The zombies turned at the noise and wandered over. Paul pointed at the car. “He’s in there,” he called out and hoped the zombies were as stupid as they looked. By now the entire car was aflame, but the zombies didn’t seem to mind as they crowded around it and stood there until they too, caught on fire.
A second later the car exploded and took the zombies with it. “Let’s hear it for the herd mentality,” Paul said, as Angela flew down to his position. Upgrades in body armor came with a price. Stronger zombies did not smarter zombies make.
“Peterson must have programmed these people to know about us,” she said.
Impossible, they can’t know, unless…
A shiver ran through Paul’s body, but not from the cold. It was from the realization that they’d been played all along. He recalled the lab conversation with the doctor… Peterson had held a remote control in his hand—and he probably also had a tracking device.
“Quill, turn around,” he said when he saw her scratch the back of her neck like she frequently did. It was an annoying habit. She’d already apologized for it, and now he knew the answer to the question of the itch.
“Why?”
“Just do it, will you?”
Grumbling, she spun around. “See anything you don’t like?”
Angela moved in. “Yeah, I do.” With her left hand, she seized Quill’s fur in an iron grip and pushed her to the ground. “Hold still.”
Immediately, Quill started to squirm and protested, “What did I do?”
“Nothing, it’s what he did,” Angela replied and repeated her earlier instruction of not to move. With her right hand, she fished around through Quill’s barbs and fastened her fingers on her neck. “There it is.” She squeezed and Quill cried out in pain. Angela let go of her and held out an object the size of a quarter. “This is it. That’s how Peterson knew where to find us. That’s how he knew we were here. He wanted us to lead him to where Ooze is.”
Quill got up, holding the back of her neck. She stared at the device. “What is that?”
“It’s a transponder,” Angela said as she crushed it. “It can track the location of anything, anywhere, by sending out a signal. No wonder Peterson always knew where we were.”
It still didn’t answer the question of how the mutants were here to be contacted, unless… “Peterson’s mined the entire country,” Paul said. “I told Atwater before, and he didn’t believe me.”
“How do you figure that?” asked Angela.
“Look. He knew we were here because of the transponder, right?” he argued and tried to make his voice sound as persuasive as possible. “He’s got these things growing at light speed, so it makes sense he’d have seeded the country beforehand. Once he knew where we were, he pressed a button on his remote and activated them.”
His explanation seemed to get through to his girlfriend, as she finally nodded. “Yeah, it makes sense.”
In contrast, Quill’s face was a study in abject misery. “I didn’t know,” she moaned over and over. “I swear, I didn’t know.”
Paul remained silent, thinking things over. Something wasn’t right here. Peterson had no use for Ooze. In fact, since he now had possession of the enzyme in Angela’s blood, he had no use for anyone, unless…
Of course, it was so obvious! He didn’t know how to refine the formula. That had to be it. He needed new blood, and Angela had it. And Ooze had the smarts to reverse engineer a DNA strand that would confer unlimited strength and life to anything unholy the crazy doctor could dream up.
Quill was crying openly, sobbing and repeating that she hadn’t had a clue. Paul couldn’t blame her. He’d been pretty clued out himself. “It wasn’t your fault,” he hastened to reassure her. “Peterson’s a pretty smart guy.”
Not smart enough, though, as he didn’t have the location of the storage unit. Angela walked over and placed both hands on Quill’s shoulders. “Hey, relax. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry about the pain, but I had to get that out of you.”
Quill’s tears stopped and she offered a wan smile. “I’ll live.”
“Yeah, you will.”
Paul shivered. They had no car and were still a state away. “It’s still night,” Angela said. “I can carry you both.”
A wall of sand suddenly arose in front of them. I can do it as well.
“Hi, Sandstorm,” Paul said. “You’ve been following us?”
Yes. Who needs a ride?
Hesitantly, Quill put up her hand. “I really don’t like heights. Can I—”
A carpet of sand quickly took shape. Hop on.
She did so, and Sandstorm took off down the highway in a whirl of dust. Paul stared in amazement. Now he’d seen everything… Well, almost everything. A touch on his shoulder made him start. “Are you ready to go?” asked Angela. “I can carry you.”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
In a quick move, she hefted him in her arms and soared aloft. “You know…we could always talk about where we want to go for our honeymoon.”
“Shut up and let me fly the friendly skies.”
Three hours later they landed at the edge of Reno Airport. It was just before dawn. Walking along the tarmac, they gazed at the variety of military, as well as civilian, aircraft. “Some place,” Paul murmured.
“It’s not a sightseeing tour,” Angela reminded him. “Where’s Quill?”
Swiveling his neck, Paul made out a familiar cloud of dust coming their way. “Over there,” he pointed.
Scant seconds later, the cloud surged over the top of the fence and deposited Quill onto the tarmac. “That was…totally cool,” she said as she brushed herself off. “I want to do that again!”
Fun time would have to wait. For the first hundred yards, they walke
d unconcernedly toward along the runway, but once they got within range of the warehouse area, they switched to stealth mode and ducked behind the nearest structure as some personnel went by. Stander had clearance, but they were fugitives.
“Wait here,” Angela said. She slipped out and trotted behind a building up ahead, then zipped back and forth between the structures. A few minutes later, she returned and motioned with her hand. “Follow me.”
After leading them to the correct warehouse, she knocked twice on the door and it opened. Stander stood there, gun in hand, and offered a smile. “What took you so long? I like pizza, but ordering takeout is for the birds.”
Paul gazed inside at the variety of chambers, the tools, the electrical generators and the cables that covered half the floor. The air smelled foul and like a combination of body odor, farts and stale pizza. Sure enough, there were a few empty boxes in the corner. “We had a little engine trouble, but I think everything might be okay,” he said.
****
When they walked in, Ooze was still tinkering with one of the chambers. “Well, I got the old good news and bad news scenario working,” he said, as he adjusted a panel of switches and twisted some wires together. “Which do you want to hear first?”
“Might as well give us the bad news first,” said Paul.
Grunts of vexation greeted his response. “I figured you’d say that, just to ruin my moment. See, both good and bad news work in conjunction this time around. The good news is that the chamber works in computer simulations.”
“Simulations,” Quill repeated, wrinkling her brow.
“Yeah, simulations,” Ooze said. “It’s not like I’ve had the cooperation of volunteers. So it’s all guesswork on this model. All the others were wrecked. This is the only one I managed to fix.”
Paul walked around the chamber and ran his hand over the slightly pitted surface. The longer he examined it, the more a sense of familiarity emerged. “I’ve seen this before,” he said.
“You should remember,” Ooze chuckled. “It was the one we used at our old house. That was the second model Bolson ever developed. The first type was used to create us. Anyway, getting back to this gizmo, I don’t know if it’ll hold up under the strain. Assuming my equations are correct, it’ll work, but if the power cuts out or overloads, then…” His voice trailed off. “Anyway, it should work, and I’m sort of glad he kept upgrading his ideas.”
He wasn’t the only one who’d been busy upgrading. When Paul told Stander about the morphing time episode not so long ago, he saw the look of alarm appeared on Stander’s face. “They can transform, like those cars?”
Mightily resisting the urge to do a face-palm, Paul simply answered, “This is reality, not a movie. Peterson’s found a way to do it, and he’s probably coming here.”
“He doesn’t know the location.”
Quill, who’d been standing quietly, put up her hand. “He might.”
“He might?” Stander appeared to be getting more and more flustered with each passing second. “How might he know about us?”
After hearing the story about the transponder, a storm cloud swept over his face. “I knew she was a spy!”
“She didn’t know,” Angela cut in. “No one did, so leave her out of it.”
Stander began to protest, but the wail of an alarm siren cut him off. “What in the…? All of you wait here. Ooze, keep working.” He pulled out his pistol, cocked it then ran out the door.
Reckoning that the worst case scenario had probably happened, Paul slowly went to the window and peered out. Sure enough, a group of zombies and Sluggos were advancing on their position. “They must have followed us here,” he said. “Sand can leave a pretty big trail. Get ready.”
Soldiers, as well as civilians, used guns, improvised flame throwers and even fire extinguishers, but it didn’t stop the horde. Even if one of them got killed, it quickly dissolved and therefore didn’t impede the advance of the rest of its synthesized friends.
“Quill,” Angela said, “you and me… We got the outside.” She motioned to the door, but at the edge she turned around. Her gaze briefly flickered to the chamber then back to him. Concern—and love—shone out from her eyes. “Paul…I love you.”
Then she was gone with the younger girl right behind her. Paul ran to lock the door, but he doubted it would hold off a full-scale attack. “She loves you, bud,” Ooze burbled out. He flicked a switch and the chamber lit. “Well, this is the best I can do. Get in.”
Simulations run or not, chance of success iffy, right now there was no choice in the matter and Paul climbed in. He heard an “Oh hell,” then the power came on.
“What’s happening?”
No answer, then a bolt of lightning hit him. Immediately the pain began, the bone-breaking agony, the twisting and turning of tendons and ligaments and the sound of his voice screaming took priority over anything and everything else. Breathe. You have to breathe, and you have to live…
Abruptly, the power died, and he slumped down on one knee, his breath coming out in rapid pants. A hand smashed through the chamber wall and yanked him to his feet. Paul came face to face with a zombie, smelled the fetid breath and he looked into a pair of dead eyes. “Brains,” it said. “You have—”
It got no further, as Paul grabbed the creature by the neck. Without even thinking about it, his claws—yes, oh sweet science, now he had claws!—sank into the zombie’s throat and tore it out. “You wish you had them,” he said. The corpse dropped to the ground and melted into a greenish-brown puddle.
A second later, his gaze traveled to his fist and a sense of wonder filled him. One second after that, power surged through his frame. The future was possible. The mountain could be climbed and the plains traversed. “Yeah, this is more like it!”
Oh wait, where was Ooze? And where had Sandstorm gone? Checking out every corner and possible hiding place and coming up with nothing, he called out, “Ooze, where’d you go?”
A faint voice from the sink got his attention. “Over here.”
Water poured out of the tap and formed a hand. It waved gently in the air and a tiny mouth formed in the center of the hand. “That zombie slashed through my containment suit. It totally sucks.” He paused and a few more drops came out and formed a question mark, as if to say, How are you feeling?
On top of the sink sat a small mirror. Peering into it, Paul observed the yellow eyes, the hair on his face, hands and indeed, all over his body, thick and dense, as it was before.
“Not bad,” he opined. “Not bad at all.”
The door opened with Stander leading the way, gun drawn. Paul gave him the thumbs up sign, and he holstered his weapon.
Angela walked over and hugged him. “Boyfriend, it was pretty rough out there. Quill did her part, though. We got them all.”
Scuffing the floor with a delicate foot-paw, Quill mumbled something about helping out, but she offered nothing more. “I guess it was pretty bad for you,” Paul said, returning the hug and feeling her warmth and strength and knowing in his heart he’d made the right decision.
“Are you ready?” Angela asked, eyeing him carefully.
“Better than ever.”
“Outstanding,” Stander put in with a large smile breaking across his face. “Now we have a team.”
Chapter Fourteen
One Step at a Time
Transformation complete, the group still faced a daunting task, that of finding the enemy. “We don’t know where they are, not all of them,” Stander said as he paced back and forth. “If what you said is true, if they have the ability to bring their creations to life in a matter of minutes then anywhere we go is a potential trap. The doctor has us right where he wants us.”
While Paul stripped off his shirt and donned a fresh one, his mind raced with the possibilities. Only Peterson and Sluggo were real. Peterson’s cells were stable, at least wit
hin his own body. Since his plan to get Ooze or Angela wasn’t going to work, he’d had to think of an alternate one.
As if reading his mind, Angela picked up on the idea. “Peterson needs a lab. He needs a quiet place and he needs time,” she said, glancing at Ooze. They’d repaired his suit, and he now sat busily pecking away on the computer. “What are you doing?”
“Checking flights in and out of Los Angeles,” he answered, without looking up. “Los Angeles is the closest point to here, the place where it all started. Peterson knows we’re here—that much is clear—so I’ve been going through all the possibilities.”
“Such as?” asked Paul.
“If there are any unauthorized flights, commercial plane charters or something unusual, I can track down and confirm the source, then we’ll…” He suddenly stopped typing. “I have something.”
“What is it?” asked Stander as he walked over in order to take a closer look.
Ooze pointed at the screen. “In the past three hours, only three unscheduled flights took off. One went to Canada, one went to California and the last was scheduled to go to Guam.”
Stander grunted then pulled out his cell phone. He immediately called his base and told them to track the arrivals of any unauthorized aircraft at the locations given. “Just do it,” he said sharply into his cell phone. “Get back to me the moment you know.”
It seemed easy enough, but waiting made everyone edgy, and only after forty-five minutes had passed did one call come through. After whipping out his cell phone, Stander barked into it, “Well?”
The reply came quickly enough. Paul picked up on the voice of the speaker. “The flight to Guam is still in the air. They won’t land for another few hours. We’ll have guards ready.”
“What about the other two locations?”
California had turned out to be a positive match…and so had Canada. “That’s impossible,” Paul said. “My hearing’s better now,” he added, when Stander gave him a startled look.
After the colonel had rung off, he sat down on a chair and the startled expression gave way to a bewildered one. “How could there be two of them?”
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