Looking up at Denver, a smile of derision stretched across Gregor’s face. “A chip off the old block, eh? Just like your own old man, though he ain’t really your old man, is he? You were just something he stole from another family like a magpie.”
Pip growled low in her throat, but she became quiet when Denver reached down and scratched behind her ears. “It’s okay, girl.”
The bait attempt was obvious. Denver let the jibe wash over him. He didn’t care for word games. It was the sign of the inferior man. Denver didn’t need words to back up what he was capable of. “Time’s getting on,” he said. “We can stand around all day behaving like kids, or you can just cooperate and work as a team. What is it? You want to take out your frustrations with my dad on me? Fancy your chances, do you, Gregor?”
The older man seemed to size Denver up but hesitated. He smiled and shook his head. “Yeah, just like your old man. And for the last time, no, there is no alarm raised. And how do I know?” He pointed to the sky. “There’s no fucking craft or shuttles coming down from the mother ship. If the croatoans from the farm raised an alarm, we wouldn’t be standing here right now. For all they know, the ones that chased us had dealt with us. The orders were to kill me. Without any other update, there’s no reason to suspect anything else has happened. So let’s just shut the hell up and get to the farm while we still have the element of surprise.”
Layla shrugged her shoulders in a silent apology to Denver and the others. How Gregor could have retained the loyalty of a woman like her, smart, capable, and beautiful, Denver would never know.
But strange times called for strange alliances—even with someone as low as Gregor, the killer of Charlie’s true love, Pippa.
“I wanted to thank you,” Ben said to Denver as they headed across the clearing.
“Why’s that?”
“For making things clear for me before I came here. I know it’s not how it was supposed to go down, but it was the right decision. With poor Ethan gone, I know I would have been useless in that kind of situation. I’m not cut out for this kind of thing.”
“We just have to keep going,” Maria said. “Make sure Charlie gets the bomb up there, and we can have our revenge for Jimmy, Erika, and Ethan. Just focus, Ben. It’ll be over soon.”
A hush descended as they made their way through the next section of forest. Fifteen minutes later, Gregor stopped everyone. “Just beyond here is my office and the rest of the compound. We need to get to Vlad and Alex.”
“And secure the breeding rooms,” Layla said.
“So how are we playing this? We can’t go in all guns blazing,” Denver said. “We need that shuttle to complete its routine pickup and wait for Charlie to get back.”
“What if he doesn’t?” Maria said. She instantly held up her palms. “I know, I know, I’m just thinking of contingencies. In the unlikely event he doesn’t meet up with us.”
“I’ll go,” Denver said. “I had Mike show me how the bomb works. If my dad’s not back in time for the shuttle, I’ll take his place.”
Maria squeezed his arm, and a pained expression distorted her lips where unspoken words formed. He knew she cared, but he knew his duty. This was always his plan. And if he had the choice, he’d go instead of his dad anyway, regardless. He even considered somehow getting onto the shuttle before his dad so he didn’t have the option, but he knew it would hurt him too much. So he accepted that this was Charlie Jackson’s call, and as his son, he’d do as he was told.
“We wait here,” Gregor said. “Give your old man a chance to show up. The shuttle isn’t due for another two hours.”
“And in the meantime,” Layla said, “I’ll go and prep Vlad and Alex.”
“Are you crazy?” Gregor said.
“Not at all. Think about it. There’s no more of the larger croatoans left, only a handful of engineers and surveyors. They won’t have orders to kill me; that was for you. As far as they’re concerned, I’m no problem.”
Gregor paused for a moment, probably assessing options, figuring out the various issues. Finally, he nodded. “If there’s any sign of problem, shout, scream, do whatever, but get our attention, and we’ll come in to help.”
“I’m hoping it won’t come to that,” Layla said. “We’ll only get one chance at getting that bomb on the shuttle. When it goes back, they’ll know what’s happened.”
“While you’re in there,” Gregor said, his face lighting up with an idea, “sabotage their communication rig. That way, if things get fucked up down here, those up there won’t have a clue.”
Layla took a breath and checked herself over, smartening herself up. “I’ll tell them I just went out for a scout and got attacked by a survivor,” she said. “If there are any questions.”
“The way Vlad is, I doubt he’ll even notice,” Gregor added. “Go now, and Layla? Take care, won’t you?”
She gave him a wink and disappeared beyond the trees. Denver just hoped there wasn’t a welcome party waiting for her. But she seemed strong and intelligent. He had confidence she’d figure something out.
And he hoped his dad would get here soon. He’d been listening for sounds of gunfire and landmines, but the forest had taken on a heavy silence. He didn’t like that one bit. It always seemed to be a precursor to something unnatural, something dangerous, like the insects and birds and the few remaining mammals knew before any human. Even the trees seemed too still.
But there was nothing left to do now other than wait.
Charlie vaulted a log and sidestepped the rusted remnants of a water tower stanchion. Serpentine branches had woven through the crisscross metal supports, creating a solid green barrier. Skidding like a kid playing baseball, he dug his foot into the dirt and swung around behind the natural cover.
Sweat clung to his camo shirt, sticking it to his back. His lungs ached with the exertion. Having taken the last of the root compound before the drive back, he was feeling the effects of his old muscles.
Despite that, he’d still managed to outfox the alien hunter. He looked through a gap in the branches and saw birds flutter high above the tree line, indicating something moving below.
The snap of a twig ahead of him confirmed it. He raised the alien rifle and sighted down its aiming groove. He didn’t understand fully how the damn thing’s armor worked, but having shot it in the leg before, it seemed that it could be caught off guard.
A rustle of leaves twenty feet away and a darting squirrel made him tense, ready and waiting. But then nothing.
The forest became still, almost as if the hunter had placed a blanket over the place.
It was a trap.
The hair on the back of Charlie’s neck stood on end, and his pulse spiked.
He spun round to see the dark shadow dart out from behind a huge redwood. The hunter focused on Charlie, raising its sword.
Even with the injured leg, it sprinted across the ground, eating up the distance.
Charlie tried to spin out of the way, but his elbow got caught against a branch, unbalancing him and making him stumble over a root.
The rifle slipped from his hand. He hit the ground on his ribs, winding himself. But with the adrenaline making his reactions faster and the remnants of the compound still active, he managed to twist in time to avoid the slash of the sword as it struck the ground inches from his head.
The alien’s thick legs, knotted with muscles beneath the form-fitting armor, planted on either side of him, pinning him in place.
Looking closely, he noticed the armor was actually a mesh. He could see a jagged hole just above its reversed knee. The fabric had torn away to reveal a thick coating of orange geclass="underline" the root as a healing agent.