He didn’t hesitate to enjoy whatever she was offering. “Cooper didn’t measure up. He just snapped; that’s all.”
“You’re emotionally involved too.”
He laughed cynically. “You think Cooper and I . . . ?”
“You two have always been rivals. You couldn’t stand for him to be better than you.”
“Don’t make me laugh. Cooper’s a loser, and this case proves it.”
She didn’t say a word. She just stared at him and lifted her glass of gin to her lips sensually.
“He lost on all fronts . . . including yours.” He drew closer to her and stroked her face. “What did you see in him?”
He asked her the question in the past tense, and with such confidence—as if he’d already won her over.
“Pretentious,” she whispered in his ear. “I’m sure you wouldn’t be as good in bed as him.”
He put his hand behind her neck and pressed his mouth against hers.
“We’ll talk about that later,” he replied, grabbing her waist.
He lifted her up and threw her on the bed, where she landed on her stomach. She arched her body until her leggings stretched tight over her buttocks. He pounced on her like a wild beast, flipped her over like a pancake, and stripped off her leggings. His movements were precise; he was used to manhandling women. Normally, she liked a little more gentleness, but she decided it was just as well. The less time it took, the better.
She just looked at the ceiling and thought of Eliott. When Andrews had finished, he got up and went to get a drink. He had exactly the same ass as Eliott.
“Do you want a drink?” he asked her.
“I’d like a coffee, thanks.”
30
Eliott hurtled down the rocky slope and swam across the stream; then he was up the other side in a matter of seconds. He was able to think with his human mind in this body that was pure power incarnate. The situation had reversed. Now his appearance would prevent him from approaching his fellow humans. Eliott hoped to be able to control the metamorphosis. But he felt the dark force had taken root in the depths of his being. Evil was conducting experiments. Right now, he needed to return to the camp in the Olean hills. He had to contact Lauren, to tell her the helicopters were transporting the creatures to Siberia. She should do everything possible to inform the military authorities of the global threat these beings might represent. There was enough evidence of their existence for investigations to occur at the international level. He felt elated and capable of anything. He overlooked the fact that his diet was essentially composed of living human beings. Unfortunately, that was the price he had to pay.
He quickly found his tent, but his cell phone could no longer get a signal. It was the same with the internet. He sat his tall, black carcass on a rock and took the time to think about what he should do. If he knew exactly where Lauren were, he could join her in no time. She must have tried to get in touch with Andrews, but where were they now?
He packed some clothes and other belongings in a backpack in case he regained his human form and set off for St. Marys.
*
In an official interview, the president of North Korea said that the end of capitalism would have been a cause for celebration in his country and for all the communist countries around the world. However, the American secret services had deliberately calculated and initiated this crisis with the strategic objective of proposing a global alternative. America and its president aimed to control this alternative exclusively, he said.
The article appeared on the front page of the four largest news agencies still publishing and distributing papers: the New York Times, Washington Post, USA Today, and Los Angeles Times.
“What’s happening is unbelievable,” said Will Agostini, the Pizza Hut manager.
Lauren tapped her cell phone screen after reading the article. “I just got news from the Bureau. Did you get the message too?”
“I got it,” Andrews confirmed.
“Would you like another cappuccino?” the manager offered.
“Thanks, but we won’t be here long,” Lauren replied.
She read the message that had come up on her cell phone aloud.
“The UN will be holding an emergency summit in Europe. Governments are going to do everything they can to anticipate the repercussions of the crisis. Industry is going to get organized to balance the deficiencies in production to meet peoples’ basic needs.”
“It’s unbelievable,” Agostini repeated to himself, staring into space.
“If prices continue to fall, things may deteriorate very quickly,” said Andrews.
Lauren continued to read the FBI’s internal news.
“If I may ask, what brought you to St. Marys?” asked the manager. “You’re here for the missing children, aren’t you?”
“That’s basically why we’re here,” Andrews replied. He turned toward Lauren. “Speaking of which, let’s go. Are you ready?”
“Whenever you want.”
Lauren and Andrews left the Pizza Hut and climbed into the Lexus. The streets were deserted. All states had just imposed fuel restrictions. They allowed a maximum of five gallons per household per week. If a family owned two cars, the restriction applied to both vehicles. Owners therefore could not fill each car with more than two and a half gallons per week. Only police and emergency vehicles were exempt from these restrictions. The FBI’s unmarked cars were also not subject to these measures.
“I spotted two abandoned farms to the north, twelve miles outside the city,” Andrews said while driving. “There’s a map in the glove compartment.”
Lauren pulled out the map, unfolded it, and studied it intently.
“We’re going to head up there,” Andrews continued. “An observation satellite spotted tire tracks on the roads leading to them. The tracks are two months old. That corresponds to the time of the abductions. It’s possible the three suspects locked the children in there with plans to execute them.”
“Did you have access to the autopsies of the three young women and the child?”
“Yes. And I can tell you that what was left wasn’t pretty.”
“You didn’t find anything unusual? I mean, did everything fit with what the Bureau accused Eliott of?”
He slowed down and looked her in the eye. “Lauren, why would he have run away if he hadn’t done anything wrong?”
“Because everything had suggested he was the perpetrator, and he’d had no clear way of proving he wasn’t.”
“That’s not a credible theory,” Andrews said.
A question popped into Lauren’s mind. She had not yet had time to dissect the autopsy she had stolen from Andrews’ computer.
“Did Eliott’s DNA appear on the bodies of the three suspects or the child?” she asked him.
She could feel him hesitating.
“No, actually. The investigators mostly classified the autopsy results as confidential. A forensic team from the offices had beaten me there that morning, before I’d arrived at the hospital morgue.
“But you talked to a doctor in charge of the department, right?”
“The official autopsy only found undefined DNA on the bodies.”
“Undefined DNA!” she exclaimed. “To me, that means DNA that isn’t Eliott’s.”
“Listen, Lauren, Eliott contacted me before he ran away. I should have told you earlier.”
She shot daggers with her eyes.
“He was no longer rational,” Andres continued. “He was talking about monstrous creatures. He even told me that he himself had turned into one of them to devour the witches. I tried to reason with him, but he got pissed and hung up.”
“Eliott is on the run. He must be exhausted. He must have been delirious to have told you such absolute nonsense,” she improvised.
“Maybe he’s trying to pretend he’s crazy,” he said.
She nearly told him the truth but decided not to. She thought again about the documents the German authorities had sent him. Officials had
treated too many things as secret during this whole affair, with its international dimensions, not to get Andrews thinking. She knew he doubted the official version.
“Look, Andrews, you’re not going to tell me that you don’t see anything wrong with the fact they’ve classified so many reports as confidential, are you?”
“I agree that this investigation is opaque. And it’s true I’ve noted strange facts not explained in some reports, including one that mentioned an ore with abnormal properties.”
“An ore?” she asked, faking surprise.
“Yes, a fact Eliott told me about, which seemed unbelievable at first, like the rest of his delusions.”
“So you admit that there are elements of truth in what he told you.”
“Exactly; I have to check it out.”
Lauren crossed her arms and sat back in her seat. She watched the forests march past outside the windshield without saying anything else.
About nine miles farther on, they arrived at the Kimball Hollow junction, where there was a roadside bar that was also an inn.
Andrews parked the Lexus in the dirt parking lot.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said. “You’re going to wait for me in this joint, even if it means you have to spend the night. I’m going to go to the first farm to inspect it.”
“I don’t get it. What are you going to do on that farm?” Lauren asked.
“Look for signs of the children.”
“Why do I have to wait here?”
“Because you have to study those files I gave you,” Andrews replied. “You have work to do. Do you want to save Eliott’s neck or not?”
“Okay, okay. We’ll stay in contact by walkie-talkie.”
“My walkie-talkies are dead. Look, if all goes well, I’ll be back before dark.”
Lauren got out of the Lexus, slammed the door, and walked toward the bar without looking back.
Andrews watched her walk away and go into the bar. She had offered herself to him for the sole purpose of helping Eliott. She was incredibly in love with him. He pulled out of the parking lot and drove onto a dirt road that climbed into the hills. After a twenty-minute drive, he got as close as possible to the wooded area. His objective was the ruins where Cooper had encountered events of a supernatural nature, according to him. Andrews intended to find this out for himself. He was also beginning to doubt the official version of the investigation. But his extremely Cartesian mind prevented him from believing in phenomena that had no rational explanation. He reached the end of the drivable route and parked off the trail in a grove of trees.
Higher up, between two rocks, binoculars were following Andrews’ Lexus.
“I have a visual of a vehicle entering the perimeter. What do I do?” asked the mercenary into his headset.
“Send us his license plate number, and we’ll identify him. In the meantime, don’t take your eyes off the intruder for a single second, especially if he’s heading for the megalith area. We’re going to send some guys to put a tracker on the car.”
“Copy.”
Andrews’ GPS indicated that he was four hours from the ruins by foot. He changed his shoes and quickly set off on the marked path. He kept himself in peak condition. Running, swimming, cycling—whenever possible, he registered for triathlon events just to prove to himself he was still in good shape. It was two p.m. when he arrived in the area. He climbed a rocky promontory that towered over the area.
The mercenary had stayed with Andrews, as invisible as a shadow in the night.
“The intruder will be on you in about ten minutes. I have him in my sights. Were you able to identify him?” asked the soldier, placing his index finger on the trigger. “I repeat: I have him in my sights. Were you able to identify him?”
“He’s a special agent—FBI. We just received instructions from above. If he gets closer, let him. And keep us informed of his every move.”
“Okay.”
Andrews took his binoculars from his bag and scanned the area. He could sense movements below, through the foliage. He crept closer. Men wearing white coveralls were busy around medical-type domes, such as those used to treat the wounded on the battlefield or in areas where epidemics were spreading. But he soon realized it was a scientific mission. He spotted soldiers discreetly watching the installations. Then he saw the megaliths, stone giants that stood in concentric circles and formed a gigantic maze. He thought it would be extremely risky to approach the ruins but not impossible. Even so, he decided not to take the chance. He pulled out his camera to take pictures of the maze and lab bubbles. They would be proof that suspicious activities were taking place in the woods. A formal investigation would occur.
The mercenary had stationed himself not far from Andrews. He was watching him through the scope on his weapon.
“The guy’s taking pictures. Hold on . . . Okay, he’s done. He’s leaving.”
“Shit. A bunch of choppers are coming in.”
“What do I do?” asked the mercenary. “I have him in my sights.”
“Don’t shoot. I repeat: don’t shoot.”
“Okay. Copy.”
“Let me know which direction he takes and follow him.”
“Copy.”
Andrews turned around and scanned the horizon. In the distance, he could hear a powerful hum growing even louder. After about thirty seconds, he was able to identify the machines making the rumbling: twin rotor CH-47 Chinook helicopters. He snapped away at the helicopters as they surged into view above the valley. As soon as the four carriers landed, Andrews observed groups of soldiers loading them with massive objects brought from inside the lab bubbles. He was too far away to see exactly what these objects were, but they seemed to be some kind of containers. They were evidently heavy, since six soldiers needed to transport each one to the helicopters. He took more photos. Suddenly, he heard the crack of a branch snapping behind him on higher ground, so he decided to get out of there immediately and go back to the car. The area was becoming dangerous. He stuffed his things into his bag and set off at a run. He found the path he had taken up there, but he decided to cut through the woods to avoid coming face to face with a patrol of soldiers.
When he could see the Lexus, he stopped a short distance away, grabbed his binoculars, and inspected the area to make sure there were no ambushes set up. The area seemed safe. He ran to the car, jumped in, and took off.
Thirty minutes later, he parked in the lot outside the roadside bar at the Kimball Hollow junction where Lauren was waiting for him.
Lauren was working on Andrews’ laptop when he sat down across from her at her table. He kept the parking lot in view and laid his gun next to him on the red imitation leather banquette.
She kept her eyes on her screen and asked him, “Why did you lie to me?”
He acted like he hadn’t heard and kept scanning the area.
“Yo, I’m talking to you,” she pushed.
“Yeah, okay, you win. I just came back from the area where Eliott had his problem before he ran away.”
She looked up from her computer, wearing a victorious smile. “And?”
“And yes, some strange things are going on there. There’s a ton of mercenaries on the site. They’re surrounding teams of scientists. They’re transporting something by helicopter. Heavy material—I couldn’t tell what it was.”
“Did you take photos of the area?”
“Of course, as many as I could. Whatever’s going on there isn’t—”
A dry crack rang out in the bay window behind her.
In a flash, Lauren threw herself into the aisle between the tables.
Andrews slumped onto the banquette, killed instantly.
A large-caliber bullet had pierced his skull. The shot had come from far away.
A sniper, she thought.
She grabbed her gun and crawled to the bar. Five customers were in the room. They had not yet moved, and all looked over at the hole in the bay window, stunned.
“Get down!” Laure
n shouted.
There was a second shot.
The bartender collapsed as her hand reached for the landline telephone.
“FBI! Get down now!” Lauren shouted again as loudly as she could.
A third and then a fourth shot rang out. Two thuds followed: two bodies dropping to the ground. Shattering glass interrupted the brief silence that followed. This time it was a smoke grenade.
They’re going to clear out the bar completely.
Lauren crawled to the kitchen, where two employees were hiding. More shots burst through the restaurant as she crawled out the back service door with the two cooks following.
She pointed to the fields along the road, telling them, “Run! And don’t come back! Go!”
The two kids probably weren’t even twenty years old. They followed her instructions without question. She took off in a different direction. She had barely reached the edge of the woods when a powerful explosion threw her forward. She rolled and got back up with no problem and started running again. When she was far enough away, she turned around. Explosives had annihilated the bar. What was left of it was going up in a violent inferno that rose about sixty feet above the road.
In the parking lot, five men armed with assault rifles were now circling Andrews’ Lexus. One of them smashed the driver’s side window with a rifle butt and got into the car. Three others circled the burning bar to make sure no one had survived. The man in the car came out with Andrews’ equipment bag. The five mercenaries regrouped and exchanged a few brief words. One of them spoke into his headset. Another threw something into the Lexus through the broken window. They ran away and climbed into a gray Chevrolet four-by-four. An explosion shattered the Lexus, scattering pieces over the parking lot in a cloud of fire. The mercenaries’ vehicle was already far away. The y had completely wiped out the area in under ten minutes. Heavy artillery, the work of trained professionals, Lauren thought.
Andrews’ last words and his face flashed through her mind. Life could change in a split second. She bitterly regretted his death. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as she thought. She was now without transportation, alone against a horde of overequipped mercenaries. Maybe they thought she had died in the bar explosion. She continued to walk parallel to the road for three miles without meeting a single car. The fuel restrictions had turned the roads into asphalt deserts. When she finally heard an engine headed toward St. Marys, she stopped and leaped into the bushes. She got ready to jump into the middle of the road to stop the vehicle.
The Essence of Darkness Page 24