Prey? Something about the way he said it caused Carrie to snap. Without fully realizing what she was doing, she attacked the man. “Those goddamn things killed my grandparents!” she screamed as she began hitting him. In spite of his suit and helmet, Bennett cowered before her assault, holding his arm over his head in a halfhearted effort to defend himself. Arms flailing, she struck him again and again, screaming and crying until her throat was raw. “You bastard, you fucking bastard—”
Someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her off. She struggled to break free, but the arms around her waist held her tight.
She fought to turn around and hit whoever was holding her back, but as she thrashed about, she heard Kyle yelling in her ear. “Carrie, stop it! Stop! Settle down.”
Hearing Kyle, the fight drained out of her. She stopped struggling, and as she did so, he loosened his grip enough for her to turn around. With hot tears rolling down her face, she fell against Kyle’s chest.
She stayed that way for several moments before Kyle gently asked, “Are you all right?”
She nodded weakly and stepped back, wiping at the frozen tears on her face.
“I had no idea,” Bennett said. “I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry.”
After they gave Carrie a moment to gather herself, they started back down the trail again. They still had a long way to go, which included making their way through the bog of deep snow, and the light was rapidly fading. The sky was dark with angry, black clouds roiling overhead like a turbulent sea turned upside down. Tiny pellets of snow and ice fell like frozen spray.
Carrie remained silent as they trudged along, but Bennett started speaking again, as if now that he had started, he wanted to get it off his chest all at once. “I didn’t start out to create monsters,” he mumbled, as if talking to himself as much as Carrie.
“Shortly after my little brother, Douglas, was born, he was diagnosed with Dandy-Walker syndrome, a congenital malformation of the brain and, in his case, his heart. Douglas’s head grew to be larger than normal, and he never fully developed mentally. He could never really hold his head up without it wobbling about, and his eyes never seemed able to focus on you.
“Throughout his infancy, we suffered as he was forced to endure numerous surgeries in an effort to correct the problems, but all they ever really did was prolong the agony. He cried all the time. It was horrible. Then, when I was in high school, I read Flowers for Algernon, and it changed my life. You are familiar with it, aren’t you?” Bennett asked.
“Yes,” Carrie replied.
“I was so affected by that story I decided to become a scientist in hopes of helping people like my brother, like they did in the book. Only I was determined to succeed where they had failed. I had just graduated from high school when my brother died. He was only six. My parents were devastated. I don’t think they ever recovered.” Bennett wiped at his eyes beneath the raised visor. He sounded sincere, but Carrie wasn’t about to let her opinions of him be swayed that easily.
“I became more determined than ever to help make a difference,” Bennett said after a moment. “Children shouldn’t have to suffer like that. Unfortunately, genetic research is very expensive, and in the early days, there were no marketable products to help offset the costs. As a result, the company was forced to look for alternative means of funding. The Mandarin Project provided the solution. Although now I don’t suppose it matters how it got started,” he said. “The road to hell, right?”
Carrie didn’t say anything, but as they continued to march into the teeth of the growing snowstorm, she was afraid that was exactly where they were headed.
CHAPTER 94
By the time they reached the stretch of trail passing through the bog, the storm had struck in full force. The wind howled through the trees, and what little daylight remained had been blotted out by the thick mass of churning clouds.
Javier’s behavior had become more troubling as well. His head lolled from side to side, and he muttered continuously as he stumbled along. Even before they had started, it was obvious they were going to have a difficult time with him.
They paused while Kyle and the sheriff spoke among themselves, but it was impossible for Carrie to hear. The sheriff tried the radio again to no avail.
“Carrie,” Kyle called out, and she leaned in closer. “Don’t wait for us. You and the doctor go on ahead. When you get to the high point on the other side, try the radio again,” he said, holding it out to her. If it still won’t work, head for the snowmobiles as fast as you—”
“No,” Carrie interrupted. “I won’t leave you.”
“You have to,” Kyle shouted. “Take one of the snowmobiles and get to the ranger station as fast as you can. Tell Hank to bring one of the ski sleds back with him and meet up with us at the trailhead.”
“But what about the dragons?”
“That’s why you have to go now,” Kyle shouted back. “We’ve got the shotguns. We can take care of ourselves.”
“I won’t leave you,” she said again.
“Carrie, you have to. It’s the only way. We’ll be all right,” Kyle assured her.
She started to ask, “And what if you’re not?” but she couldn’t bring herself to say it, as if saying it might somehow make it come true. She bit her bottom lip and nodded. As she took the radio from him, she looked up at him one last time, hoping he would change his mind. But he didn’t. He just nodded at her in encouragement and offered one last, “It’s all right. Now go.”
Numbly, she turned around. Step by agonizing step, she began to slowly walk away. Behind her, Dr. Bennett paused to speak with Kyle and the sheriff, their voices too low for her to hear. After a brief conversation, he turned and began following her.
As they began trudging through the drift, Carrie felt as if she had been sucker punched in the gut. A gnawing emptiness bloomed inside of her just as it had after the death of her grandparents. She felt as if she stood on the brink of a yawning chasm, one foot out in space, as if she were about to take the fatal plunge.
God, how it had hurt—physically hurt—when he had told her to go.
It wasn’t until now that she realized just how much she had come to depend on Kyle’s presence to help her through her grief. And with that thought came the realization that she might have finally found someone capable of filling the void she had lived with for so many years.
All of which made the current situation even more devastating. The thought of losing Kyle was suddenly unbearable, especially when she was the one responsible for putting him in danger. She knew she wouldn’t be strong enough to go on alone this time. The thought of her long, empty life stretching out before her like the dark forest corridor they were now passing through would be more than she could withstand.
She almost turned around then to go running back to him, but she knew Kyle would never leave Javier behind, not even at the risk of his own life. The best way for her to help him was to do as he had asked and get to the bluff and radio for help—and failing that, get to the ranger station as fast as possible.
With a renewed sense of resolve and energy born of desperation, Carrie lowered her head and plowed onward into the storm, heedless of Dr. Bennett. He could manage on his own. In a strange twist of fate, now that she had the story she had been so desperately chasing, she realized it was never what she had really been searching for. The story was no longer the most important thing to her, and she wouldn’t hesitate to leave Bennett behind if he couldn’t keep up.
CHAPTER 95
Atop the windswept bluff, Carrie frantically pressed the button on the radio again. “Hello?” she yelled. “Can you hear me? We need help. Please respond.” She held the walkie-talkie against her ear, but again, there was nothing but static.
Carrie looked back down the trail. She wondered how Kyle and the sheriff were doing. She hoped to see them just behind her, climbing the rise out of the gap, but it was now too dark to see more than a few feet in front of them.
Beside her, Bennett
had pulled down his visor and appeared to be surveying the mountain across the valley. Carrie looked at him, puzzled. He seemed like an odd duck, and his behavior now was only adding to it. She still didn’t feel comfortable being alone with him. She slipped her hand into the pocket with the Glock.
Apparently, he sensed her watching him. He flipped the visor up. “It has a night-vision display,” he explained.
“Oh,” Carrie replied. “Did you see anything?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean anything.” He looked behind them. “The dragons will be stirring any time now. We should go.” He slid the visor back down and began carefully making his way across the ice-glazed rock.
Carrie looked down the trail behind them once more, back into the black depths of the trees. The bad feeling in the pit of her stomach grew until it threatened to overwhelm her. Finally, she forced herself to turn away and scrambled after the doctor.
*
Neither Kyle nor George spoke of it, but as the storm blotted out the sky and twilight turned into night, it became obvious they weren’t going to make it in time. They were still struggling to make their way through the defile, and their progress was slow at best. Nevertheless, they struggled onward. Between them, Javier slipped in and out of consciousness, his head lolling about like a rag doll’s. He mumbled deliriously, uttering short passages of prayer to the Virgin Mary and calling out to his mother. Occasionally, he became more animated and cried out, “El Chupacabara es aqui, aqui!” before he lapsed back into silence. Kyle worried that Javier’s ramblings would give them away, but there was nothing they could do to stop him. Fortunately, the spells didn’t last long.
Despite the icy wind, sweat trickled down Kyle’s back and under his arms. The muscles in his arms and back screamed in agony. Between holding Javier and the shotgun, they felt as if they were being slowly pulled from their sockets. He and George had switched sides several times, trying not to overwork one side or the other, but it didn’t matter anymore. They were both past the point of exhaustion.
Kyle tried hard to focus on everything but the pain. He scanned the treetops, wary of any movement. At Dr. Bennett’s suggestion, he had put on Javier’s helmet, which provided a night-vision display inside of the visor. The otherwise pitch-black forest came to life in luminous shades of green. At first, it had been disconcerting to watch the display and walk at the same time—it was like trying to hike down a mountain while playing a virtual reality game—but after a few stumbles, he seemed to adjust. He had offered to switch off with the sheriff so that he could see as well, but the big Indian had refused, saying he could manage just as well without it.
In front of them to the right, something moved in the treetops. Branches swayed and snapped, and the sound was followed by a heavy thud.
Kyle jumped. Turning, he accidentally squeezed off a shot. The gun kicked hard against his hip and an explosive boom echoed through the gap. The treetop disintegrated in a cloud of powder and needles.
“Shit,” Kyle cursed. It had just been a tuft of falling snow. “Sorry,” he said, embarrassed by his jumpiness.
“Perhaps the noise will keep the monsters at bay,” the sheriff offered, even though they both knew it was doubtful. The creatures had been intentionally designed to be aggressive killing machines. They hadn’t been afraid to attack the recovery team. A little noise wasn’t going to scare them away now. If anything, it was more likely to attract them, like blood in the water.
CHAPTER 96
The cold wind chafed Carrie’s face and burned her lungs. Her hands and feet had gone numb long ago, and her legs felt leaden. She stumbled and nearly fell as weariness, darkness, and the rugged terrain continued to take their toll. Her body begged to stop, but she forced herself onward. They had to make it to the ranger station before it was too late. They had to.
Just audible above the wind, a low, rumbling sound that might have been the echo of distant thunder rolled down the valley.
Carrie stopped and looked back up the mountain.
She stood still and strained to hear over her own heavy breathing. Was that gunfire? It could have been one of the shotguns.
Dr. Bennett reached out and took her arm. “We must go,” he panted. “There’s nothing … we can do. We must go. Now.”
She nearly attacked him again. God knew she wanted to. She wanted to hit him and scream at him and wail on him for being a part of it all, for having the audacity to play God, for destroying her life. But even as she glared at the doctor, his face hidden behind the black helmet, she knew it was too late for that. All that mattered now was that they get to the ranger station as soon as possible. She refused to give up hope that Kyle would make it.
She jerked her arm free and took off again, moving as fast as her exhausted legs could carry her. She dared the doctor to try to keep up.
Another distant boom rolled down the mountain. This time, there was no mistaking it. It was gunfire. “No,” she whispered, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying out. No. God, no. Please, not again, she begged as she strained to move faster.
*
After what seemed like an eternity, Kyle and the sheriff finally topped the bluff. The rocky shelf was about fifteen feet wide, the snow scoured away by the vicious winds. Only a few twisted, scraggly trees had managed to force their way up through cracks in the weatherworn limestone. The expanse was covered with loose scree and slick veins of dark ice.
They began to creep across. To their left, the stone face dropped away forty to fifty feet straight down, as if a large chuck of the mountain had broken away and fallen into the valley below.
They never saw the dragon.
It slammed into the back of them like a meteor smacking the earth. Bodies went flying. One of the shotguns, knocked from the sheriff’s grasp, skittered across the stone and toppled over the edge.
Kyle was driven to the ground, face-first. The shotgun roared as he fell, chips of rock and ice exploding as the pellets shattered the stone. His vision bloomed in a shower of green and white sparks as his head slammed against the stone. The helmet saved him from cracking his skull, but the blow left him dazed. The night-vision display flickered, and then everything went black.
Screams rang out in the dark.
It took Kyle a moment to regain his senses. Ears ringing, he rolled over and sat up. The visor blinked a few times before it came back to life. A glowing silhouette rose before him. It was massive. It stood seven or eight feet tall on a pair of thick, powerful legs like those of a raptor. A pair of wings flared from its broad torso, fluttering and twitching as it knelt over something. There came the hideous snap of breaking bones and the pop of rending muscle as the thing raised its head, a man’s arm in its mouth. The long, toothy maw clacked open and closed several times in rapid succession, swallowing the limb whole.
The screaming had stopped.
As it turned its head, the creature’s eyes glared balefully at Kyle. With a rumbling growl, it pounded across the ledge toward him, its claws raking the icy stone.
Kyle kicked backward, driving himself back across the ledge. He raised the shotgun and pulled the trigger.
Click.
He had forgotten to pump it.
Desperately, he continued to scuttle away from the thing. The edge of the cliff drew nearer.
Then it pounced.
It landed on his legs with crushing force and pinned him to the ground. The claws ripped through his snowsuit and dug into his thighs. Warm, slippery blood welled forth. It crouched over him, its wings spread like a demon from hell. He could feel its hot, steaming breath; he could smell the fetid stink of it. Frantically, he tried to pump the shotgun, but it was too late.
He just prayed that Carrie had made it to the ranger station in time.
A piercing, ululant cry erupted from behind.
The creature whipped about. George Greyhawk charged across the ledge, slamming into the beast. Its breath exploded from it in a throaty cough, its wings flapping wildly as it struggled to maintain
its balance. But the force of the blow was too much. The dragon stumbled backward, its claws scrabbling across the stone, failing to find purchase.
Then the ground was gone. It toppled backward over the edge with a screeching yowl. Its tail lashed out and wrapped around a scraggly tree at the edge, but the weight was too great. The brittle wood snapped.
“George!” Kyle cried out as the dragon and the sheriff disappeared.
Kyle crawled forward, peered over the edge and scanned the jagged rocks below. There were a few dark objects, too indistinct to make out in the green glow of the visor, but nothing moved.
“Sheriff Greyhawk!” Kyle yelled. The sound of his voice was ripped away by the wind.
“George!”
There was no answer.
After several long moments, he struggled to his feet, wincing in pain with every movement. He picked up the shotgun, racked a shell into the breech, and hobbled to the edge. He looked for a way to get down the cliff and into the valley below. It was hopeless.
Leary of another attack, he panned the sky to make sure another dragon wasn’t bearing down on him. He didn’t see anything, but just as he looked away, he caught the faint glimmer of something out of the corner of his eye. He spun around and braced himself for an attack, but like the flickering of a distant star on a cloudless night, it was gone.
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