The air hissed. The sound reached right into my head and stabbed at my brain, pounding away at it until I could barely think.
I grew dizzy. My knees started to wobble.
Dead leaves crunched in the distance. Branches snapped.
I spun to the west. But all I saw was darkness. “Something’s out there,” I whispered. “Something big.”
“This place is nothing but dirt and rocks,” Beverly replied. “It couldn’t support anything larger than a snake.”
More leaves crunched. Heavy footsteps struck the dry soil. “Come on,” I whispered. “Let’s get out of here.”
Heading east, I forged a path through leafless bushes and crowded tree groves. Then I passed through a deep gully and hiked up the far hill. Upon reaching the top, I prepared to enter another gully.
Then I froze.
A disheveled kid stood on the opposite side of the gully. His dark skin, cloaked in ragged clothes, shone in the dim light. He sported an emaciated figure and a thick head of messy locks. Streaks of dirt covered his jaw and cheeks.
He lifted a finger to his lips. Then he waved his arms frantically, urging us to join him.
Beverly started forward.
I grabbed her hand. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“How do you know we can trust him?”
“He hasn’t tried to kill us yet.”
Good point.
I glanced at the kid. He’d moved to the edge of a small clearing. His neck swiveled rapidly, shifting from side to side. He was clearly looking for something.
But what?
I flinched as the hissing gained intensity. Spinning around, I saw something in the gully behind us. Its body was impossibly tall and almost perfectly symmetrical. Its coat looked sleek and shiny. For a moment, it stood still.
Then it charged forward.
The creature smashed through bushes in a blur of motion. It moved so fast my eyes couldn’t keep up with it.
A loud grunt rang out. Flesh smacked the ground. Terrified screams filled the darkness as a cloud of dirt shot into the air.
What the hell?
Dust and darkness cloaked everything. I felt the presence of Beverly behind me. Graham was perched a little lower on the hill.
Oh no …
“It’s Milt.” I started down the hill. “That thing’s got him.”
Graham grabbed my arm. I tried to shake him off, but he held on with an iron grip.
Grabbing my pistol, I aimed it into the gully. But the dust cloud was too thick to see anything.
The hissing turned deafening. A loud buzzing noise rang out. Electricity filled the air.
The screams turned into gurgles. The dust cloud exploded, kicking more particles skyward.
Something struck my cheek. It felt warm and sticky. I swiped it with my finger and lifted it to my face. It was red and smelled like copper.
Blood.
My gaze shot back to the gully. The activity had died down. Although dust still choked the air, I could see Stevens’ body lying on the soil. His torso had been cleaved open with surgical precision. His tattered organs, along with tons of blood, had spilt to the ground.
Beverly’s jaw dropped.
Graham’s eyes bulged.
He’s dead.
Sweat ran down my arms and trickled onto my fingers. I stood still, my eyes locked on Stevens’ body. Through the flying dust cloak, I caught a momentary glimpse of his visage. It was frozen with horror and pain.
More dust settled to the ground. I saw a distinct shadowy form. It stood next to Stevens. The buzzing and hissing noises continued without fail.
I couldn’t see details, but I didn’t care. Quickly, I took aim at the shadow. My pistol recoiled as I fired a couple of shots.
Soft pings, like metal striking an extremely hard surface, filled the air.
Take that, you bastard.
The creature lowered its head to the ground. I waited for it to fall, to collapse into a heap of quivering, dying flesh.
The buzzing softened. Abruptly, Stevens’ face vanished. Blood and gore flew outward, splattering across the gully.
Horrified, I took a step backward.
The creature didn’t bother to feed on the remains. Instead, it lifted its blood-splattered shiny head.
And twisted toward me.
I was too far away to see everything. But a vague detail caught my attention. It horrified me, almost as much as Stevens’ death. The creature was nature’s perfect killing machine. And yet, it was also an affront to nature, a horrifying accident of evolution.
Or of something else.
“Run,” Beverly shouted.
Beverly and Graham took off running. I sprinted into the next gully, a few steps behind them.
Looking ahead, I saw the strange boy. He stood at the edge of the clearing, waving frantically at us. Then he turned around and sprinted into the forest.
The hissing rose to an even louder pitch as I reached the bottom of the gully and ran up the opposite side. It egged me on, giving me strength to run even faster. I tried to focus on our next move, on how to survive. But I couldn’t get the image of the creature out of my brain.
Two sets of teeth? One on either side? But that means two heads. What kind of animal has two heads?
Chapter 37
As Ed Hooper pulled into the familiar driveway, he saw a virtual museum of environmentally friendly cars parked around the property. The vehicles, ranging from a 1917 Dual Power Model 44 Coupe to a 1972 Buick Skylark, exuded status, environmental commitment, and overwhelming smugness. A grin creased his visage. His car stuck out.
And not in a good way.
“Yes, I know it sounds crazy,” Hooper said into his wireless headset. “But I think we’re dealing with a conspiracy.”
“Ridiculous.” President Walters’ strained voice filled Hooper’s ear. “My cabinet wouldn’t betray me.”
“It’s not your entire cabinet.”
“Okay, half my cabinet.” The president exhaled. “I still don’t believe it.”
“You know Patricia Samuels? Barney’s wife?”
“Of course. She runs Fizzter Computers. She’s a genius.”
“And a former hacker. I studied the personnel files of everyone who had access to the Columbus Project’s systems. She’s the only one with the knowledge and skill set to engineer a theft of this type.”
“She’s a generous woman. Donates to over a dozen environmental organizations. She’d never do anything to hurt the Columbus Project.”
“It’s not just her. Have you heard of the Separative?”
“It doesn’t ring a bell.”
“It came together years ago,” Hooper said. “Basically, it was a social group. Besides Patricia, nine other people belonged to it. Five of those people — Barney, Kate, George, Janet, and Bert — are in your cabinet.”
“So what?”
“Did you know they were lifelong friends before you brought them aboard?”
“Not exactly.”
“Did you pick them by yourself? Or did you have help?”
“Well, Barney said …” The president trailed off.
“That’s what I thought.”
“It doesn’t mean anything. I hate to say it, but that’s how government works. Positions aren’t based on merit. It’s all about who you know.”
“And they’ve known each other for years.”
“I think you’re wasting your time.”
“We’ll know soon enough. I’ll call later.”
Hooper touched his earpiece, cutting the connection. Then he continued up the steep driveway. He braked, halting his vehicle behind a gleaming 1906 Baker Landolet. Turning his air conditioner to full blast, he sat back and waited for a valet to approach him.