“Well, some plants produce a natural antibiotic—”
“I know. Black walnut, cabbage, creosote bush, garlic, gingko. I’m talking about the kind needed to fight the plague.”
Dr. Fishbine released a long windy sigh. He scratched his head, further mussing his curly red hair. “Chloromycetin was isolated from soil samples back in 1947. Now, the nutrient medium for biosynthesis consists of wheat gluten, glycerin, sodium carbonate, and sodium chloride. Then there’s the broth in the fermentation tank.” He was muttering to himself now. “Then there’s chemical synthesis, but that involves ten principal reactions and about thirty steps. We’d start with p-nitrobromoacetophenone, then there’s the condensation with methenamine ...” He shrugged. “Yeah, I could do it. With the right equipment and some help.”
Eric nodded, standing up. The leg was a little wobbly, the hands raw, but he felt good. Better than he’d felt in a long time. Inside. He’d made up his mind about something. “Well, Doctor, I have some news that concerns you. Guess what?”
Dr. Fishbine locked eyes with Eric. “I’m moving my practice?”
“That’s right. To Alcatraz. The place brims with history. Al Capone and Machine Gun Kelly used to live there.”
“So I’m being kidnapped, right?”
“I guess so.”
They both looked at Gary Meyer. The kid leaned against the wall, listening to both of them. When he saw their attention turn to him, he stared back. “What are you gonna do with me?”
“Take you along,” Eric said. “Your mother thinks it’s time. You want to see her?”
Gary shrugged. “She knows where I am.”
“Then you don’t want to come?”
“I’m fine right here.”
“Will you give me your word you won’t tell Thor or anyone that we’re leaving?”
“Sure,” Gary said. “I won’t tell.”
“It’s a deal.” Eric offered his hand to shake. Gary stared at it a moment, then reluctantly reached out his own hand. Eric grabbed the hand, jerked Gary closer, and punched him at the back of the neck, just below the skull. Gary collapsed, unconscious. Eric hefted him over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
Dr. Fishbine hesitated. “That’s some handshake. But that won’t be enough out there among armed men.”
“You’ll tell them Gary collapsed and I’m carrying him to his home for you.”
“That might work, might not. I got something might work better.” He led Eric down the corridor to a locked door. He unlocked it and entered. On the desk was Eric’s crossbow and a handful of arrows. “I kept it when they hauled Dodd out of here. Figured it might come in handy for me someday. Didn’t expect it would be so soon.”
Eric shifted Gary’s body a little on his shoulder, freeing his hands to pick up his bow. The brass runners were in need of cleaning, but it felt fine. “Got any candles?”
“You kidding? That’s the one thing everybody has.” Dr. Fishbine opened a drawer and handed Eric a thick white candle.
Eric rubbed the candle over the runner, waxing it to reduce wear on the string. He pocketed the candle, cocked the bow, and nestled a bolt in the groove. “Let’s do it, Doctor. Anything goes wrong, you can still claim you were kidnapped.”
“Don’t worry, pal, that’s exactly what I intend to do. If there’s one thing I learned here, it’s how to save your own ass.”
Eric smiled, wrapped a steadying arm around Gary’s legs, and led the good doctor out of the infirmary.
“Hey, man.”
Eric stopped, thumbing the crossbow’s safety off. “Yeah?”
“Where the hell you think you’re going?”
The two men swaggered up to Eric and Dr. Fishbine, their rifles dangling at their sides. One was Chicano, with a long droopy bandit moustache. The other had a diamond stud through his nostril.
“I’m talking to you,” the guy with the pierced nostril said.
Eric turned around to face the men. When they saw Eric they both smiled.
“Hey, you’re the dude, man,” Nose said. “You’re the guy from the Tomb.”
The Chicano nodded. “Great show, man. A two-ferone.”
Eric smiled acknowledgement. Behind the two men was a pier with dozens of small boats moored to it. Neighboring piers had larger boats, one even had a huge cargo ship. But Eric only needed a small motorboat. He was pretty sure that Thor’s boats would be filled with gas, at least enough to get him back to Alcatraz with his human cargo. It wasn’t much, and he wasn’t exactly sure why he was doing it, but he just knew it would have brought a smile of pride to D.B.’s face. Stupid reason, maybe, but it was his.
“So what are you doing down here. Dock’s off-limits.” He touched the diamond stud in his nose as if polishing it.
“I asked him to bring Gary home,” Dr. Fishbine said. “Poor kid just lost his father and all. Collapsed right in the street.”
“Just cuz he lost his old man?” Nose asked. “Shit, imagine what he’d do if he lost something really important.” Nose laughed and his buddy joined him. “Okay, go on. Just don’t fart around down here any. Me and Paco are a little jittery about the big attack tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Paco grinned. “By tomorrow night, we’ll all be eating pussy pie for dinner. You too, Doc.”
Dr. Fishbine stared coldly. “Thanks.”
They started to walk on when Gary began to stir.
“Wh-what?” He lifted his head off Eric’s back. “What’s going on?”
“Relax, kid,” Nose said. “Your old man was an asshole anyway. No great loss.”
“Wait!” Gary shouted, remembering. “Stop these guys! They’re going to steal a boat.”
Eric dumped the kid off his shoulder while spinning around. He fired the bolt just as Paco was chambering a round into his rifle. The arrow pinned Paco’s wrist to his stomach as he dropped to the ground.
Nose was faster, sighting his rifle on Eric before there was any time to reload. “Fucking creep. One breath and you’re nailed. Thor’s gonna —”
Suddenly the tip of an arrow sprouted from his chest like a fiery flower, the metal point wet with blood. Nose seemed to forget about Eric, about his rifle, about everything as he stared at the strange intruder of his body. He staggered a couple feet, then pitched forward on his face.
There, coming up over the edge of the pier, stood Maggie with a bow and Lynda with a shotgun. Between them, smiling, was D.B.
Gary Meyer stayed on the ground during the fight, out of the line of fire. But now that the two men were dead, he jumped to his feet and bolted down the street.
“Gary!” Lynda Meyer called after her son.
D.B. stepped forward, unfastened from her waist the bolas Eric had made for her, twirled them over her head, and tossed them at the fleeing figure. They whirled through the air with a whoosh, finally wrapping around Gary’s neck. The heavy pouches clunked Gary on the head, dazing him. He tripped and fell.
“Nice shot,” Eric said as they ran to the boy.
“Yeah,” she said, “except I was aiming at his feet.”
“How many?” Thor asked. His voice was icy calm. A bad sign.
“Three women that we saw. Plus Ravensmith.”
“And the doctor and the kid.”
The man nodded. “They were already too far away by the time we got there. Besides, we might’ve hit the doc.”
Thor took a deep breath, tapped his hammer against the seat next to him. His taps became harder until they echoed throughout the theater. The others sitting around shifted nervously. “How long to get the rest of the boats gassed and ready?”
“Most are ready now. A couple need a little engine work. Should be ready by morning.”
“Will be ready by morning,” he said, striking the metal chair with such force that the whole row bent forward.
* * *
SIXTEEN
“It was D.B.’s idea,” Maggie said. “The whole thing.”
Eric didn’t say anything. He just stared at D.B.,
who had gone from smiling giddily to an embarrassed frown under Eric’s hard glare. “She’s a clever girl.”
“Don’t take it out on her,” Riva said, pacing the floor of what once was the warden’s livingroom. “She wanted to help us. You didn’t. That simple.”
“That simple,” Eric echoed.
“I didn’t mean anything by it, Eric,” D.B. said, pleading her own case. “It’s just that I figured something had to be done.”
“So you played dead.”
“Pretty neat the way I did that roll into the water, huh? Just like we used to play in the pool. Only you kept diving looking for me, and I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to hold my breath any longer.”
Eric looked at Maggie. “And you were all in on it. The guards, too?”
“All except Nestor,” Maggie confirmed. “He really wanted to kill you. The others were purposely shooting wide.”
“Nestor being there was just an accident?”
Maggie and Riva looked over at D.B.
“Not exactly,” D.B. said. “I sent him an anonymous note. He was expecting you.”
“You might have gotten us both killed, you know that?”
D.B. shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. But Maggie and Riva were hidden in the brush. If you hadn’t taken him, they would have.”
“But it was better if you did it yourself,” Maggie said. “Politically.”
“Oh sure, politically,” Eric nodded. He walked over to where D.B. was sitting crosslegged on the beat-up sofa. “So what was the point? Did you think I’d go over and avenge your death by bringing those two back? Is that what you figured?”
“It was possible.” She smiled up at him, her sunglasses perched atop her head, her choke collar still around her neck. “But that wasn’t the main part of my plan.” She was getting into it now, no longer embarrassed or guilty, but kind of proud at her own cleverness. “See, I figured that once you went back, they’d be all over you about what happened before. With Dodd and the doc and all. We know all about the Tomb and stuff. Anyway, I thought you showing up would create enough of a distraction that we could sneak on over, pick up the doctor, and scoot our butts right back home again without anyone noticing.”
“What about me? I was almost killed in that torture chamber.”
D.B. looked surprised at his anger. “You? Nah, I knew you could take Dodd, no sweat.”
Eric shook his head. It was no use arguing with her. Actually, she had been pretty smart about the whole thing. And, most important, her plan had worked. Only it had worked better than she’d thought. Instead of having to go through Asgard hunting down Dr. Fishbine, Eric had unwittingly brought him to them. And Gary as a bonus.
Dr. Fishbine was already making rounds, attending to some of the sickly on Alcatraz. Lynda Meyer was with her son, doing what she could to deprogram him. Dr. Fishbine had the easier job.
Maggie stood across the room, her eyes bright against her dark skin, her reedy body at ease gripping the long bow. She looked especially sexy right now. “Well, Eric, what do we do now? You say they’re going to attack us, but what’s our defense?”
“Prayer.”
“I’m serious,” she flared. “They’ll be out here in a few hours with hundreds of armed men.”
“Not much we can do,” he said. “You’re outnumbered, outgunned, out in the cold.”
“What about you?”
“I’m out of here. I did what you wanted, brought back Lynda’s son and the doctor. Now you owe me one boat, with a motor, and with enough gas to hug the shoreline for a few miles until I clear Asgard.”
“What about the attack?” D.B. asked. “What about Thor?”
Eric smiled. “Don’t worry, kid. I know you’ll come up with a plan. Your last one worked so well.”
“You’re mad, huh?”
Eric looked at her with an uncomprehending expression. “You aren’t serious, are you? Asking me that.”
“Yeah, I’m serious. I really think you’re sore just because I outsmarted you. So now you’re going off in a huff because a kid, a girl at that, came up with a pretty good plan.”
“If you’re so good at planning, then you’ll come up with another, won’t you?”
D.B. stood up. “Look, I’m sorry, Rock Man. Sorry I kinda used you a little. I didn’t mean to. But this was important.” She waved her hands to include the whole island and everybody on it. “More important than me or you even.”
Eric studied her. As she spoke, a warmth had spread through his chest, a sense of understanding, maybe even pride. In a world that had been cruel and savage to her, D.B. had managed to salvage an unselfish act, even if it meant sacrificing her relationship with Eric. He had to admire that. “Okay,” he said. “Maybe there are one or two things we can do to even the odds a bit. It means busting your buns tonight. And it means doing whatever I tell you, no questions asked. Okay?”
“Absolutely,” Riva said.
Maggie smiled. “Whatever you say.”
“Sure,” D.B. said, “that’s why they call you the leader of the pack.”
* * *
SEVENTEEN
Thor stood on the prow of the ship and pointed his hammer at the water. “What the hell is that shit?”
One of his guards gripped the railing as he slowly made his way toward Thor, fighting his seasickness with every step. “Looks like garbage.”
“Yeah, it’s garbage, asshole. But what’s it doing here? There must be tons of it.”
Indeed, the closer they got to Alcatraz, the thicker the layer of garbage. Anything that floated had been tossed into the sea, allowing the currents to sweep it toward Thor’s approaching armada. It was like a giant oil spill, only made of garbage. And not just garbage, but hundreds of seagulls and pelicans hovered and dove and floated among the garbage eating. Some of the birds were deformed and scarred from flying too close to the Halo.
One of the engines on the boat next to Thor’s sputtered to a stop as the propellor got tangled in some of the garbage.
“Slow it down!” Thor hollered to his own ship’s captain. The word was spread from ship to ship. More than seventy boats in all.
Thor stood erect at the prow, impressive in his pressed white Ralph Lauren shirt and navy blue tie and pleated pants. The contrast of the heavy hammer hanging from his wrist by the leather strap looked amusing at first, then sinister. He stared at Alcatraz, a grin on his face. “This shit might slow us down a few minutes, but it sure won’t stop us.”
And it didn’t. They were careful as they traveled through the garbage and debris, stopping occasionally to untangle a propellor or two. Shooing away the gulls and pelicans that feasted. But the delay only cost them a little over an hour in lost time.
Finally, the seventy-three boats landed at the docks.
What they found surprised them.
“Where is everybody?” Thor asked.
“Spooky, huh?” one of his men answered.
They walked slowly, carefully, spreading out along the shore and working their way inland, following Thor’s lead. When they came to the fence, they crouched for a few minutes waiting for an attack. If one was to come, this would be the perfect place. Catch them while they were slowed at the fence. But no shot was fired, no warning shouted.
Thor heaved his hammer over his head and whacked one of the metal fence posts. It crumpled like an aluminum can. “Knock it down!” he commanded, and several hundred feet stormed over the fence, trampling it flat.
They swarmed up over the embankment, yelling and whooping as if they were rushing into a fierce battle. But when they reached the top, there was no one waiting for them. No battle. No people.
“Thor! Look!”
Thor took the binoculars his man handed him and gazed out in the direction the man pointed. He adjusted the lens and saw what had excited his man so. Ships. A couple dozen at most, all severely overcrowded, mostly with women, but moving nevertheless. Moving away from Alcatraz. “Dumb cunts. Where the hell do they think they’re going?”
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“Out to sea, looks like.”
He chuckled. “Search the whole fucking island. With all these men it shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes. If you don’t find anybody, we meet back at the ships. The way they’re overloaded it shouldn’t take long to catch up to them.”
The man hurried off to follow Thor’s orders.
Thor put the binoculars back to his eyes and watched the ships labor ponderously through the water. “Just a matter of time,” he said.
Eric heard the stampeding of hundreds of feet as they marched back to their ships. Only his head was above water, but the water acted as a sound amplifier, allowing him to hear them long before they reached the docks. The water’s freezing temperature also awakened his toothache.
He dove under one boat hull and popped up on the other side. “How you coming?” he whispered to Maggie as her fingers worked busily on a neighboring boat’s hull.
“Done,” she said.
“Good. Check with the others. Done or not, it’s time to get out of here.”
She nodded. Both dove under the water.
“How much longer?” Thor asked.
The man hugged the railing now, certain that if he puked once more, his lungs, kidneys, and heart would come spilling out next. He took a deep breath and answered, “Dooley said fifteen, twenty minutes. Tops.”
“Good. Make sure everyone has checked their weapons. We’re going to have to board the other ships.”
“Like pirates?” the man said weakly. Ordinarily that would have sounded like fun. Right now any movement at all seemed impossible.
“Don’t worry, Sinclair, you can stay with the ship.”
“I’m just an extortionist, Thor. I don’t know shit about boats.”
Thor turned on the man with a pitying look, lazily swung his hammer, and knocked the wretched soul over the side of the ship into the ocean. Thor leaned over the side and shouted to him, “Now you don’t have to know anything about boats. Just about swimming.”
The men on board the nearby ships laughed as they skipped past their fallen comrade, who flailed and pleaded as the choppy waves pounded him below the surface.
Jason Frost - Warlord 04 - Prisonland Page 16