Shadow Dragon

by Horton, Lance

  “I know,” he mouthed back at her silently. They had to do something. But what? The sheriff had expressly forbidden them to come after him, and Kyle respected his instincts enough not to second-guess him.

  Kyle flexed his right hand, which had grown stiff from the cold, trying to keep it ready in case he had to use the gun. What the hell is going on?

  A brittle snap came from behind them. Kyle whirled around, his finger on the trigger, but there was nothing there. He scanned the area, straining to see amid the muted shadows, looking for signs of movement, but there was nothing. Just ice … falling from a frozen branch, he told himself, but he continued to watch just the same.

  And then he felt Carrie grasp his arm in alarm.

  He looked back at her and then in the direction she pointed. There, a large, dark figure was moving rapidly up the trail in their direction.

  Kyle hefted the gun, leaving his finger outside the trigger guard. His fingers were stiff from the cold. He didn’t want to accidentally shoot the sheriff if it was him.

  The figure continued up the trail, moving closer. It was quickly growing dark, which made it virtually impossible to make out any details of the silhouette. It grew larger as it approached until Kyle felt certain it was too big to be the sheriff.

  He raised the shotgun and slipped his finger through the guard.

  The figure stopped and raised its arm. “Come … quickly.”

  Kyle sighed in relief, carefully easing off the trigger. It was the sheriff.

  Kyle and Carrie emerged from the hiding spot and began sloughing their way back to the trail. It was tough going at first, and Kyle found himself struggling to keep up.

  “What is it? What did you find?” Carrie asked, but the sheriff had already turned and was marching back up the trail.

  Ahead, they crested a small rise. At the bottom of the hill were two black-clad figures, one leaning in the shelter of a rocky outcropping, the other kneeling next to him.

  Kyle froze. He looked around anxiously, wary of a trap. But the sheriff marched on, apparently unconcerned. Carrie hesitated as well and looked at Kyle. Unsure what else to do, Kyle nodded for her to follow. They would have to trust the sheriff. Even so, Kyle kept a close watch on the surrounding forest as they made their way toward the two.

  As they neared, Kyle was able to discern more about the two figures. They were both clad entirely in black, but they weren’t just snowsuits. They looked like some sort of specially armored military or special-forces gear. One figure still wore what looked like a futuristic black helmet, while the other, the man kneeling next to him, had removed his. This second man had dark, curly hair mashed flat against his head and damp with sweat. Faint wisps of steam rose from his head. Even with the suit on, it was apparent that he was thin, almost frail. His glasses were canted at an odd angle, bent from wearing the helmet. He had a weary, strained look on his face.

  “Oh, thank God,” the man gushed as they approached.

  “What’s going on?” Carrie asked. The man in black stood as if she had been addressing him. Kyle pointed the shotgun his direction.

  “No, no,” he said hastily, holding his hands up. “You don’t understand. This man is hurt. He needs medical attention.”

  Without pausing, the sheriff moved over to the man and knelt beside him. The man’s head lolled back and forth, and he seemed to be speaking, but it was unintelligible beneath the helmet. The sheriff slipped the visor up. Beneath was the face of a young Hispanic man. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, and they were rolling around as he muttered something in Spanish.

  “What happened?” the sheriff asked.

  “We, uh … were sent here on a rescue mission,” the man stammered. “Some hikers got lost in the woods and … and then he fell and hit his head.” The man was a terrible liar.

  “Give me a break,” Carrie snapped. “You’re not part of any rescue team. You were sent here to retrieve your monster, weren’t you?”

  The man stopped, his eyes widening in surprise. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “How dumb do you think we are?” Carrie said. “There aren’t any hikers out here. And look at you—you’re wearing what looks like high-tech military gear. Do you really think we’re that stupid? We know what happened with the GenTech plane. Why else do you think we’re here? This is Sheriff Greyhawk and Agent Andrews of the FBI. So why don’t you tell us what really happened?”

  The man just stood there and stared at them with a dumbfounded expression on his face before he looked to the sheriff as if requesting confirmation. Without speaking, the sheriff unzipped his snowsuit enough to reveal his uniform and badge beneath.

  “I … I can’t,” the man stammered. “If I tell you, they’ll kill me.”

  “Who will?” Carrie asked. Kyle noticed she seemed to have taken the lead in the interrogation, but the sheriff didn’t seem to mind. She seemed to be making progress.

  “I don’t know who exactly,” he said with a glance toward the man on the ground. “I just know they will kill me.”

  “He doesn’t appear to be much of a threat to anyone right now,” Kyle noted.

  “Not him. The people he works for.”

  “And who is that?” Carrie asked.

  “I told you. I don’t know. I just know they’ll kill me if I tell you anything.”

  Kyle noticed that the sheriff, who had been watching the man, had subtly turned his attention to the forest around them. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the shadowy confines beneath the trees. The thought they might even now be in the crosshairs of a sharpshooter’s scope made Kyle feel suddenly exposed.

  “Are we being watched now?” Kyle whispered, lifting the shotgun slightly in readiness. “Can they hear what you’re saying?”

  “No, no,” the man replied. “Except for him, the ones I was sent with are all dead, or at least I think they are.”

  “Dead?” Kyle asked. “What happened?”

  The man looked down at the ground. “Mistakes were made … mostly by me, I’m afraid, and now we’re the only two left.”

  “Then what do you have to worry about?” Carrie asked.

  “You don’t know what you’re dealing with,” the man sighed. “I don’t even know who they are. But I can tell you that powerful people are involved, with tentacles that reach far and wide. They will know I told you. They will kill me—and you—to keep their secret quiet.”

  “I work for a newspaper,” Carrie said. “Once we go public with this story, there will be too many people who know about it. They won’t be able to cover it up by simply killing those who know about it.”

  “It’s not that simple,” the man said. “Even I don’t know who is involved. If I tell you, can you promise to protect me? Put me in the witness protection program or something?”

  Carrie looked to Kyle.

  “I can’t promise you anything,” Kyle said, “But I’ll talk to my superior. I’ll do everything I can.” Technically, Kyle hadn’t lied to the man, but he knew he didn’t have the authority to promise anything. In fact, as far as he knew, he might be arrested himself as soon as they returned to town. But he had come too far to be concerned about that right now.

  The man seemed unconvinced. He remained silent for a moment, considering his choices. As he did so, he looked at the young man on the ground and then at something he held in his hand. It looked like a necklace made of dark beads. Then Kyle noticed the small silver cross dangling from it.

  The man seemed to make his decision then. Looking up, he said, “This man has a serious concussion, probably a subdural hematoma. We have to get him to a hospital soon, or he’s going to die. If you help me get him back, I promise I’ll tell you everything.”

  Kyle looked to the sheriff. “What do you think?”

  “If this was a setup, they would have already captured or killed us.”

  “Right,” Kyle said, somewhat unnerved by that thought. “So now what?”

  The sheriff pulled out the walkie-ta
lkie.

  “Uh, I’m afraid that won’t work,” the man said.

  Everyone looked at him. “Part of the equipment we left back at Pentagon Cabin included a radio frequency jammer. That’s why I couldn’t call for help. I tried to turn it off, but I didn’t have the passcode.”

  The sheriff keyed the radio. As expected, there was nothing but static. He turned up the volume, adjusted the squelch, and tried again, but he still received no answer.

  The sheriff put the radio away. “Do you know the range of the jamming equipment?”

  “About five miles, I think—”

  The sheriff looked up at the near-black skies overhead. The concern was clearly etched on his face. “The storm will have reached the ranger station by now. It will be upon us soon. They will not be able to air-lift him out.”

  The sheriff seemed to make a decision. As he began to shrug out of his gear, he said, “Take off your packs. We must lighten our load. We are going to have to carry him out.”

  They all did as requested, and the sheriff began quickly sorting through the supplies, dumping everything that was not absolutely necessary and redistributing most of the remaining items between Carrie and the stranger.

  “You’re not leaving any of the weapons or ammo behind, are you?” the man asked, his voice wavering as shivers racked his body. Kyle found it odd that the suit he was wearing wasn’t keeping him warm enough.

  The sheriff looked at him suspiciously. “Why?”

  “Because … they might still be out there.”

  “Who might?” Kyle asked, concerned that the man might be in shock. “I thought you said everyone was dead?”

  “They are—at least I think they are—but I can’t be sure about the dragons.”

  “Dragons?” Kyle asked.

  “The creatures, the chimera—that’s what they’re called: Mandarin Dragons. I don’t know exactly how the name came about. The project was underway for years before I was brought on board. I think maybe it had something to do with Vietnam—”

  “No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Kyle said even as the man continued to ramble on. “You said dragons, as in plural. You mean there’s more than one?”

  “Yes, that’s how they managed to overrun the recovery team. We didn’t know it at the time, but—”

  “And they’re still out there?” Kyle interrupted.

  “Like I said, I can’t be sure how many there were or if any of them survived, but it’s possible. In fact, quite probable considering that none of the team returned. We really ought to hurry before it gets any darker.”

  “Why?” Kyle asked, even though he was afraid he already knew the answer.

  “Because,” the man said. “They’re nocturnal. They hunt at night.”

  CHAPTER 93

  With Kyle’s help, Carrie shrugged into her pack. It was noticeably lighter. The only things left within were the first-aid kit, a small amount of food, the ammunition, and the digital camera she refused to leave behind. Even though they had an eyewitness, Carrie knew an actual photo of the creature, if they could manage to get one, would be infinitely more valuable in proving the authenticity of their story. The rest of the gear lay in a pile alongside the trail, including the sleeping bags and most of the water. It seemed like such a waste, but she understood why it had to be left behind.

  At the sheriff’s suggestion, Carrie and the biologist led the way. They were walking directly into the teeth of the storm now. Her face was becoming wind burned, and her eyes watered in spite of the goggles she wore. As a precaution, she walked with her right hand in her jacket pocket and held the grip of the Glock. Behind, Kyle and the sheriff struggled to keep the wounded man, Ramirez, upright and moving forward.

  While the man had promised to tell them everything, Carrie wasn’t willing to wait until they made it back to the ranger station. She was determined to get the answers she had come for while she had the chance. She began questioning him almost immediately.

  “I don’t really know where to start,” he said. The visor on his helmet was up, or else she wouldn’t have been able to hear him at all.

  “Why don’t you start with your name and who you work for,” Carrie prompted.

  “Yes … yes, of course,” he said. “I’m Dr. Myles Bennett. I’m a biological engineer for GenTech.”

  Carrie perked up at the mention of the company’s name. Excitedly, she glanced back at Kyle. She wanted to say, “See, I told you. I was right all along,” but he was busy struggling with the Ramirez kid.

  Turning back around, she said, “And you’ve seen the creatures?”

  “Oh, yes,” he said. “The dragons were genetically engineered in the black projects lab at GenTech. I was one of the scientists involved in the project.”

  Carrie could hardly believe her luck. Not only had they found a witness but someone who had firsthand knowledge of the project.

  “But why?” Carrie asked, “I mean, what were they created for?”

  “They were designed with a very specific purpose in mind,” Bennett said. “The impetus for the initial experiments came during the Korean and Vietnam Wars. Our soldiers were fighting a very different war from any that had ever been fought before. Those wars were waged in inhospitable locations with unconventional tactics being employed by the enemy. They were in swamps and forests and rugged, mountainous regions, being attacked from virtually every direction with guerilla-style tactics. Typically, the army depends on our air superiority to soften up the opposing forces through extensive bombing prior to our ground forces moving in—a method that was employed with great success in the wars against Iraq. But this approach doesn’t always work. In conflicts with less easily defined targets, such as Vietnam and Korea and more recently Afghanistan, this proved to be an ineffective method. The government was desperate to find an alternate means for dealing with these guerilla and terrorist forces, which typically move in small groups in remote and often harsh environments, and mostly at night. My understanding is there were numerous projects being worked on originally—everything from training small, elite, counterterror forces to small remote-controlled attack droids to chemical and biological weapons. But with the mapping of the human genome and the exponential advances in genetic research and recombinant DNA, the Mandarin Project, as ours was known, was seen to offer the most promising results for the near future.”

  “My God.” Carrie could hardly believe what she was hearing. “So you’re saying these things were intentionally created as some sort of weapon?”

  “Created, yes, although ‘designed’ is perhaps a more accurate description. The dragons were developed with very specific parameters in mind. First, they were to be carnivorous and, if possible, to specifically seek out humans as prey. They wouldn’t be a very effective weapon if they were herbivores. Second, they were to be warm-blooded, which would allow them to function in all environments. Of course, such characteristics require a lot of energy, which means they must eat a lot. They hunt almost continuously, although this isn’t really a problem, since it fits in with the overall design criteria.”

  Carrie was shocked as she listened to Bennett’s description of the creatures. It was as if he was detailing the specifications for a piece of hardware, not some genetically designed killing machine. He sounded like he was proud of their creation.

  “Third,” Dr. Bennett continued. “They were to be nocturnal so they would be active during the times of most guerilla and terrorist movement. The cover of darkness offers the added benefit of making the dragons more difficult to detect as well as playing upon man’s innate fear of the dark. For the most part, the dragons were to be deployed in remote and often less technologically advanced areas, so the effect of rumor and superstition was seen as an added benefit. Fear is a great disrupter of cohesion and motivation among forces,” Bennett noted.

  “Fourth, they were to have the ability to fly, enabling them to travel in almost any region as well as allowing them to cover large amounts of territory in a short time. A
nd fifth, there had to be a means for deactivating them once their work was done.”

  “In the end,” Bennett said, “the creature’s design wound up being a mixture of various animals, but its primary makeup came from the Nile crocodile, chimpanzees, and bats. Most people don’t know it, but crocodiles are similar to birds in many aspects. The bats provided the nocturnal habits as well as sonar and echolocation and the ability of flight, although it was very difficult to increase the growth factor enough to match the size required by the dragons. It was all much more complicated than it sounds. It took years and years of work by dozens of scientists to develop a self-sustaining prototype.”

  “Wait a minute,” Carrie said. “You said there was to be a way to deactivate them. What did you mean by that? Did you mean kill them?”

  “Yes,” Bennett replied. “Eventually, there were to have been tracking units implanted in each of the creatures. The plan was to install a chip into each dragon’s head that would serve as a GPS locator as well as a radio frequency receiver. Once the dragons achieved the desired result, a signal would be initiated from a satellite and the implant would immediately sever the link between its spinal column and cerebral cortex, thereby deactivating it. There were also miniature radio transmitters developed to prevent unwanted attacks on ground personnel.”

  Hearing all of this was beginning to make Carrie feel sick to her stomach. To describe the program as a violation of human and animal rights was a gross understatement. But it still didn’t answer what she wanted to know. “So why weren’t these ‘deactivated’ after the crash!” she asked angrily.

  “Unfortunately, they had not been fitted with the implants yet. The two prototypes were being transferred to a base in Alaska for further testing when the plane went down. A cleanup crew was deployed to the site immediately after the crash, but there was little time for them to get in and out before the NTSB investigators arrived. They didn’t have time to search the area sufficiently, and therefore, they were unable to determine that one of the dragons had survived. Even so, it should never have become as big a problem as it did, were it not for several extenuating circumstances that even we didn’t know about until it was too late. Apparently, the dragon that survived must have become pregnant at some point without our knowledge. After giving birth to what I now suspect are at least several litters, they began to put a strain on the local food supply—a problem that was exacerbated by the exceptionally harsh winter. The dragons were forced to range farther and farther afield in search of prey.”