The Turn Series Box Set

by Andrew Clawson

  At that moment, Paul cried out and stopped returning fire, twisting around and falling out of view.

  “Now,” Reed shouted.

  Sarah grabbed him before he could take off. “Wait.”

  He held still for a beat, and screams laced with terror filled the air.

  “Stay here,” Sarah ordered. “A wolf got to that soldier.”

  No time for that now – time to go. Reed burst from beneath the staircase and made it safely. With his back pressed to the wall he turned to find one of the wolves standing over the dead soldier. The dead man’s corpse twisted back as forth and the wolf shook it, tossing the body around like a toy. Deka shouted from above before gunfire raked the ground, sending the wolf running at Reed.

  The wolf’s muscles rippled beneath its bristly fur as it bounded toward him. Reed sighted in, the rifle stock pounding his shoulder as he pulled the trigger. The wolf’s legs went limp, though its forward momentum carried it on. The huge, sleek body slid across the floor and stopped beside Reed’s boot, its wet snout just inches from his toe.

  An unexpected silence descended on the room. Snippets of rapid conversation in Swahili filtered from above. Reed cocked an ear.

  Then, nothing. No noise, no footsteps, just silence. The hair on Reed’s arms prickled. As long as Deka or the soldier remained above, Sarah was trapped under the stairs. To get down the main hallway he’d have to run in the open. Same for the front door. He looked over at Sarah, who pointed to the door, and he held up a hand, showing her his palm. Stay put. He needed to think.

  At least until two grenades bounced onto the floor. One by Sarah, one directly in front of Reed. Sarah swatted at hers to send it skittering toward the front door. The one near him took a crazy bounce as he tried to kick at it, flitting past him and out of reach, too far away to grab. Reed used the rifle gripped in his hand like a golf club and knocked the green ball away. It went airborne, hung there for a heartbeat, and then exploded.

  The world shook again. Hot air blasted every piece of Reed’s exposed skin. The concussion sent him sprawling over the floor. A coughing fit overtook him as he scrambled to get back upright. The acrid smoke scraped his throat with each breath, and as he scrambled through the haze his foot caught and he went down, landing on the mangled body of the soldier who’d shot at Paul, and who had become wolf food. If Deka or that other soldier threw another grenade down here—

  Grenade. These soldiers carried grenades. Heart pounding, Reed searched the corpse and found one green metal ball strapped on the belt. He ducked behind a column and looked up, searching for movement on the second floor.

  There she was. Just off to the right, looking down to where Reed had been earlier. He could make an easy throw, get it over the rail and hope it blew her through the roof. But how the hell do you time a grenade? Come on, Reed. You’ve seen enough war movies. Pull the pin and throw. Easy, just like a baseball.

  He licked dry lips, grasped the pin, held the lever down and pulled. It came out cleanly, and while Deka was staring elsewhere he lobbed it up and over the railing. Good toss, Kimble. He covered his ears.

  One. Two. Three.

  Deka started running. The last soldier didn’t move until the grenade exploded and threw him over the railing, down to the first level. Reed had his pistol out when the man landed, finger on the trigger. It relaxed; the man was dead. He slipped the safety on and stowed the pistol in his holster. Where was Sarah? He also had to find Paul. He’d survived tougher scrapes than this, starting with growing up in Mwanza. No way his friend was dead.

  The ground shook beneath his feet, as though a bulldozer had rumbled up the front steps, intent on smashing the building. He turned to find something much worse. A gorilla knuckled its way toward him at high speed, bursting through the door and making straight for him. Reed didn’t have time to grab his gun, didn’t have time to think. He dove as a paw reached for him, larger than life and big enough to crush him to bits.

  Chapter 30

  Soter Research Facility

  Northwestern Tanzania

  It connected with his shoulder like a sledgehammer. Reed’s world spun. He saw broken glass sparkling on the marble floor, then steel beams stretching overhead. Around and around he twisted before crashing down hard enough to lose his wind. A woman shouted while he scrambled for his pistol, fog clouding his head and making his hand too clumsy, too slow by half. The pistol slipped from his grip and skidded out of reach.

  Sarah ran across the room with her gun spitting fire. Rearing back to smash him to a pulp, the gorilla stopped short, jerking slightly with each crack. The bullets didn’t do more than piss him off. Still Sarah kept coming, darting in front of Reed as she moved on a collision course with the massive ape until she ran out of bullets and the ape went still.

  New gunshots split the air now. Sarah screamed as a red mist burst from her leg and she crumpled beside the dead gorilla. There was a dull thud as her head hit the marble floor, and she stopped screaming.

  “You should have stayed home.” Deka Conteh took a wide approach, circling around the support column.

  “What the hell’s the matter with you? You’re killing civilians.”

  “In the name of progress.”

  “You recruited Ian Napier to steal the research and create these monsters,” Reed said. “Then you let them loose.” He was saying anything that came to mind. No reason to make sense of it now, not with a gun trained on him.

  That got a reaction. She smiled. “You know too much. Napier is dead. I will need a new scientist.”

  Reed slid one hand toward the knife at his waist. “You’re drilling here. You set the animals loose to kill the natives. You needed the Maasai to disappear so you can drill.”

  “Yes.” Lightning flashed outside and white light spilled through the open front door to frame her. “That is enough. This is more important than you.”

  He almost had the knife, one finger brushing the handle. “Why support our anti-poaching team? You helped us stop poachers and save animals. Why do that when you wanted them dead?”

  “To control you and your team. When I had control, you were useful.” She shrugged. “Now, you are not.”

  Got it. Her gun came up at the same time Reed grabbed the knife and, in one smooth motion, pulled his arm behind his head, ready to throw it at her chest. Suddenly, so fast it was merely a ghost outside, a lightning bolt flashed and a massive tree outside the facility burst into flames. Sparks filled the dark sky, the flash sending cold fear through Reed’s chest as he released his knife. The blade danced through the shadows as the gun went off. Hot fire scalded his cheek as a bullet scraped skin on its way past. The knife spun harmlessly past Deka.

  “You are afraid. You flinched.” She traced a line along her forearm. “The lightning scares you.”

  A shadow moved behind Deka as her pistol again came up.

  “Don’t shoot me.” Reed lifted one hand up, as though to ward off the bullet. “How about a deal? I work for you.” The orange face of his Timex glowed as he covered his mouth with the other hand.

  Deka scowled. “Do not insult me.”

  Reed took a deep breath. And blew, hard as he could on the whistle attached to his wrist. A gift from Paul. A pitch so high that only dogs could hear. Or wolves.

  Deka paused, then smiled without joy. She raised the gun and took aim.

  The wolf slammed into Deka as though shot out of a cannon. Her gun went off, the bullet going far too high as she collapsed beneath two hundred pounds of snarling, snapping wolf. Gristly, wet noises and Deka’s screams filled the air as Reed grabbed his pistol. By the time he got to her, it was over. The wolf looked up at him and growled, its snout glistening red.

  “I’m sorry about this.” He took aim. “I really am.”

  Reed’s .38 barked twice, and the last creature not meant for this world dropped on top of the architect of its misery.

  Epilogue

  Kimble Safaris

  Outside of Mwanza, Tanzania
/>   Two weeks later

  Afternoon thunder rolled across the plains, dark clouds blooming as the first raindrops fell. A warm breeze carried hints of violet. Sarah sipped her beer as she leaned against a post on Reed’s deck, one arm wrapped around her chest. Doc, Rico and Cinder lounged at her feet. Reed took deep breaths, his eyes on the storm.

  Footsteps beat over the worn floorboards.

  “Not often we get storms this time of year,” Reed commented as he studied the purple clouds. He took a long pull from a cold bottle and he glanced at Sarah’s leg, exposed to the sun below the ripped hemline of his old shorts. “That’s healing nicely. How are you feeling?”

  Her fingers flitted across the puckered wound, a memory of their escapades. “It could have been worse.” The wind picked up, warming Reed’s skin. “Your guests are in for a treat,” she continued. “The animals will be moving and feeding once the storm passes. Plenty of photo opportunities.”

  “I hope so. Guests shouldn’t come back with empty cameras.” An evening safari waited for his latest group of guests and he wouldn’t disappoint. “If the storm blows through, there’s still a chance the Stones come out in full force.”

  Sarah laughed. “We need to work on that name.”

  The beer bottle went up, bubbling as he drank in comfortable silence. His thoughts turned to the massacre at Soter’s research facility, when Deka Conteh had nearly killed everyone Reed cared for.

  Sarah tossed her empty beer bottle his way. “Any more in the fridge?”

  Reed winked. “Always.” He got to his feet. The screen door creaked when he went inside, and creaked again as he returned with two fresh bottles. “Hard to believe it was a couple weeks ago.”

  A new voice joined them.

  “Tell me about it.” Paul appeared from around a corner. “But my shoulder feels as though it happened a year ago. I am as good as new.”

  “I’d believe you if you didn’t still have that sling on,” Reed said. The wounds on Paul’s shoulder still looked angry, same as Sarah’s leg. “Good thing the knife wound is better, or you’d be on disability.”

  Paul swiveled his other arm in response. “What cut? Nothing stops me.” The ever-present grin faded. “I am ready for action, if we still have any. Deka Conteh is dead. How will we replace her money?”

  “We need to talk about that.” Reed took a drink. “I spoke with Chief Ereng today. A grant he applied for came through. Enough to fund our team.”

  “Great news.” Paul almost jumped off the deck. “When can we start?”

  “When you’re healed.” Reed’s hand came up, cutting him off. “Really healed, and a doctor says so.”

  “I will find the right doctor today.” Keys jangled in his pocket, and Paul turned on his heel, headed for a Land Rover and drove away, headed toward Mwanza.

  Sarah watched him go. “If you had ten men like Paul, the poachers would be out of business. Of course, new ones would show up, but it would be progress.”

  “We’ll work on it,” Reed said. “Did you hear anything from your colleagues?”

  After realizing Ian Napier had stolen her basic research on genome editing, Sarah had called a handful of her most trusted colleagues. Had anyone heard rumors about Ian’s activity, she asked them, or anything about her genetic editing process before she’d publicly described it in Zurich?

  “Nothing,” she said. “Ian kept a tight lid on anyone knowing he had a deal with the Tanzanian government to fund his work.” Her boot scuffed along the porch floor. “I still can’t believe he’d sell out like that. This work was meant to heal people and cure disease. Not to weaponize animals.”

  “That was Soter’s agenda, not his.”

  Ian’s computer had provided insight into how Soter had offered Deka Conteh genetically engineered animals for combat, and how, in exchange, they had been given exclusive mining rights for the rare earth elements.

  “The Tanzanian Minister of Tourism and Natural Resources is a powerful ally if you want drilling rights,” Reed said. “For Soter it was always about money.”

  Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “No amount of money is worth what Soter did to those animals.”

  “I agree, and you can see why Deka Conteh would want the hybrids. Can you imagine using them in battle? In the right environment, they could win a war.”

  Fire flashed in Sarah’s eyes. “It’s the most inhumane idea I’ve ever heard. Animals are independent species who feel love, sorrow and pain. They don’t exist simply to be manipulated for our purposes. And in a process that includes their own inevitable destruction.”

  As if to support her point, Doc stood up, stretched, and then laid himself at Sarah’s feet, resting his head on one shoe. “Thanks, buddy.” Sarah scratched his ears, earning a contented rumble.

  “One good thing for the animals came out of this whole mess,” Reed said. “The funding for our anti-poaching team is coming from the government revenue generated by selling these newly discovered rare earth elements.”

  “Huh. So the government mines the elements, and one benefit is you save animals and lock up poachers.” She took a drink. “Sounds like a fair trade to me.”

  “And the Maasai will be compensated for the mining disrupting their ancestral lands,” Reed said. “The government is relocating any indigenous wildlife to a new national park.”

  “You realize the government will make a fortune selling those minerals,” Sarah said.

  Thunder rumbled. Reed shrugged. “If it means a win for us and the mining operation comes out in the open, subject to public scrutiny, then we take it.”

  “It’s better than Soter Corporation controlling those elements,” Sarah said. “Who knows where that would have ended?”

  “The rights would have gone to the highest bidder,” Reed said. “At least now the money will do some good.”

  “The money won’t do any good. That’s your job.”

  Lightning flashed. The porch creaked as Sarah rose and walked over to Reed, limping slightly. She leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder. Her hand found his forearm, covering the jagged scars. “Want to go inside? It’s getting closer.”

  Reed took a drink. “I think I’ll stay out here a while longer.” Another bolt touched the ground. “I don’t mind the storm.”

  Author’s Note

  While the foremost purpose of this story is to entertain, I also hope this offered different viewpoints on a deep and immensely complex issue. Nature, broad and all-encompassing as the term may be, is our greatest resource. Within that overly broad category, I believe the animal kingdom is arguably the most vital and endangered component, chiefly due to human interaction. Within the pages of this novel I wanted to look at the ideas surrounding and challenges facing our furry friends.

  The question of how to best protect and preserve wildlife engenders heated debate and emotion from all sides, though I believe nearly everyone involved honestly feels their approach is the most likely to succeed. Whatever approach that may be, establishing a dialogue rooted in mutual respect for the other side’s points and feelings is the first step, one which has so far eluded many participants.

  Humans and animals have coexisted for millennia. With an ever-expanding population that is only projected to continue growing, humans are encroaching on traditional wildlife territory, creating problems both expected and unforeseen. Human-wildlife conflict will only continue to increase unless we figure out a way to coexist. Already species are disappearing at unprecedented rates, with humanity the inarguable cause.

  To illustrate, when I began drafting this novel, there was exactly one male Northern White Rhinoceros in the world. He died on March 19, 2018. There are none left.

  Which brings to mind a different high-level consideration explored in this story; genome-editing using the CRISPR technique. Scientists have tinkered with genomes for decades now, but this technique allows them to do so with astonishing precision and efficiency. The possible outcomes scientists could theoretically achieve
by editing and splicing genes are astonishing, including curing genetic diseases and altering or eliminating harmful, inherited traits. This process isn’t limited to humans.

  Take malaria. This disease kills upwards of half a million people each year, mostly young children in sub-Saharan Africa. Scientists could use CRISPR genome-editing offers to combat malaria by introducing genes into mosquitos, which spread the disease. These genetic edits would slowly kill them off, theoretically solving the problem.

  Another potential path wouldn’t even involve killing the mosquitos. Scientists could alter the genome in a small number of mosquitos to ensure that only the desired gene passes from one generation to the next. Within several generations (not long in the mosquito world), the gene will disseminate throughout the population. Now, what’s wrong with that? Nothing, until you consider the fact scientists have little to no idea how this will actually work in the real world, because no one’s ever done this before. As Dr. Alan Grant stated in Jurassic Park, “life finds a way”.

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to everyone who aided in bringing this story to life. Without you, it wouldn’t have made it from my head on to the page. Mom, your insights are valuable as ever. Hopefully I don’t fill too much of your second retirement with work. Lin, your knowledge and experience on hunting, conservation and firearms is irreplaceable and made this tale stronger. To my editor, Jennifer, a huge thanks for the wonderful, pertinent ideas. It’s a better story for your hard work. And of course, Kelsey and Kit. I couldn’t do it without you guys.