Caplan shot a withering look at the triangular-faced vixen.
She licked her lips. Inhaled, exhaled. Then she lowered her pistol.
Caplan waved at her gun. “Give me that.”
“Do I look stupid to you?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
While she glowered at him, Caplan turned toward the crowd. He saw plenty of familiar faces. “I need a gun.”
He heard some shuffling sounds. A few whispers. But no one stepped forward. Looking down, he eyed his axes. Guess it’s just us, he thought.
GRRRAAAWWWRRRR!
The sound shocked Caplan into action. Gripping the ladder, he climbed into the shaft. Almost immediately, a strong smell of wet fur accosted him and he wrinkled his nostrils in disgust. He’d smelled fur before, but nothing quite this gunky and greasy. “What’s down there?” he asked.
Carson’s eyes bored holes into his. “Your worst nightmare.”
Chapter 34
Caplan clambered down the ladder, Carson’s cryptic words still ringing in his ears. His worst nightmare? What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Deeper and deeper he spiraled into the shaft. His throat clenched up involuntarily with every roar, every inhuman grunt. And still, he went on, driven by memories of Tony’s fate. By an overwhelming desire to save Amanda Morgan.
By a soul-deep need to earn her forgiveness.
Light from the overhead flashlight beams began to fade. He glanced at his watch. His spine iced over as he noted the time. 4:02 p.m. Less than one hour to go.
Less than one hour until Hatcher became a cemetery.
As he descended, he thought about the antibiotics stored carefully in his backpack. What should he do with them when he returned to the upper floor? Should he hand them out to the brainiacs, even though they were behind the attack on Hatcher? Or should he focus on getting them to the dignitaries and trussed-up guards, thus dooming the brainiacs to certain death?
He maintained an even pace, the soles of his trail-runners scuffing gently against each metal rung. Why had the eggheads revolted in the first place? What was their grievance against Corbotch? Was it possible they were the good guys in all this?
Another roar knocked that thought right out of his head. He chanced a look at the ground. It was too dark to see anything, but he could still sense the creature. He could feel its heat, its energy. He could hear its rapid breathing, deep-throated grunts, and heavy paws slapping against the tough floor. And he could smell its greasy fur, its feces, its ripe body odor.
He resumed his descent and didn’t stop until he reached the floor. Then he shrugged off his pack and set it next to the ladder. Hopefully, the syringes would be safe there.
Reaching to his belt, he drew his twin axes and peeled off their covers. The axes felt like kid’s toys in his hands. But they were all he had, so he clung fast to them.
He looked around the dark, shadowy room. It was difficult to see much. His eyes quickly adjusted, however, and he noticed broken tables, busted machines, shattered glass, blood smears, and bullet-ridden concrete pillars. It looked like a security checkpoint, albeit one ravaged by gunfire. Still beats the Bronx, he thought.
Clanging pipes and growls drew his attention to the opposite side of the room. He noticed an entranceway, surrounded by shards of glass. It led to a dark void, dimly illuminated by scattered sparks and flickering flames.
He slid along the floor, inch by inch, carefully avoiding the glass. And all the while, he listened to sounds of rampage coming from the void. He heard hollow metal pipes banging against solid metal objects. Heavy machines slamming into the floor and breaking into millions of pieces. Furious bellows followed by paws thumping against the floor.
His adrenaline went through the roof. He itched to rush into the void, to take down the creature and get Morgan to safety. But the growls gave him pause. They reminded Caplan of a full-size bear. Which was a bit of a problem. How was he supposed to battle a creature that could rip him in half? And it wasn’t like he could lead it away, giving Morgan a chance to escape. A grizzly, capable of speeds up to thirty miles per hour, would chase him down with ease.
He paused at the entranceway. Up close, he saw the void was really a gigantic room filled with pillars, oddities, and gizmos. Smashed generators, stricken with fire, were positioned near the walls. Strange skeletons, mounted on platforms, occupied much of the floor space. They were large, almost dino-sized. But they looked more like… well, like nothing he’d ever seen before.
He noticed individual stations, hooked up to machines and monitors, positioned between the skeletons. Most of them looked empty, like a bedroom without a bed. But a few of them held giant silken pods, reminiscent of the ones he’d seen in the Vallerio. Great, he thought. As if things weren’t already creepy enough down here.
A hulking shadow, black and covered with fur, shot across his line of sight. Speedily, it clambered up a staircase onto a ten-foot tall platform in the middle of the room. It rose up on its hind legs before flinging itself onto some wooden tables, dashing them to smithereens.
Caplan’s eyes widened. No way I’m arm barring that thing into submission, he thought.
The creature twisted in a half-circle. Then it twisted back again. Slowly, its body unfolded, growing taller and taller. It didn’t stop until it had reached its full height for a second time.
GRRRRAAAWWWWRRRRR!
It’s been supersized, Caplan thought, recoiling in shock. The creature definitely moved with the grace and power of a grizzly. But while the largest grizzlies topped out at about ten feet on hind legs, this thing was closer to twelve feet at full height. And while giant grizzlies might tip the scale at 1,500 pounds, this particular creature looked to be some 500 pounds heavier.
The creature fell to all fours. Tipped its head to the roof and sniffed the air. Then it slipped off the back end of the platform. Its paws slapped the floor.
Caplan waited for more sounds of movement. But instead, an eerie silence fell over the room. His eyes flitted from left to right. His breath caught in his throat as he laid eyes upon two bloodied and mangled bodies. They belonged to Bonnie Codd and Zlata Issova, both of whom had worked in Operations. He considered them friends and their deaths hit him hard.
Caplan gripped and regripped the axes. He was sorely tempted to race into the room, to find the creature and ravage it with his blades. But he forced himself to stay cool, focused. Morgan was still alive. He couldn’t see her or hear her. But he could feel her. He could feel her adrenaline, her beating heart. She — not vengeance — was all that mattered now.
GRRRRAAAWWWWRRRRR!
A giant black mass slammed into the entranceway. Startled, Caplan reared back and fell on the floor, crunching glass beneath him. Wide-eyed, he watched the creature press against the frame. Its left arm, covered with wiry black fur, reached into the security area. It swiped at Caplan, stabbing its long claws at empty air.
Caplan backed up a few inches. The creature looked even bigger from close-up. His original guess as to its identity — a bear on steroids — seemed particularly fitting. But why would Morgan and her fellow brainiacs — a hodgepodge collection of geneticists, biologists, and other — ists — want to do such a thing? What purpose did it serve?
The giant bear strained at the entranceway for several seconds. Then it withdrew its arm and vanished from sight.
Caplan exhaled a sigh of relief.