Savage (Apex Predator Book 2)

by David Meyer

  Roberts whirled around, her red cloak twisting then unfurling. Her fingers, already adorned with the thick brass knuckles, shot upward. Bracing herself, she formed fists and brought them together in front of her face.

  The metallic blade crashed against the brass. A ringing vibration rang out. Then the axe fell harmlessly to the floor.

  Roberts, her visage steeled in concentration, dropped her hands to her sides. Gently, she covered the axe with a heeled boot. Shifting her leg, she slid the weapon across the floor. It bumped into the far wall, then came to a rest.

  “Hello, Zach,” she said, her lips tight.

  “Chenoa. Dr. Barden.” His body shook with anger. “I ran into Amanda outside.”

  Dr. Barden winced. Roberts smiled.

  He could barely speak. “Why?”

  “To square us up, of course,” Roberts replied. “You took Kevin from me. So, I took Amanda from you.”

  His mind shot back to the North Maine Woods, to the musclebound freak who’d cornered him. He hadn’t even killed the man. It had been the work of the Danter colony. Not that it mattered now.

  “Let’s set aside our personal differences for a moment.” She gave him a withering look. “Tell me something. How does it feel to doom this planet to total extinction?”

  His look turned incredulous. “Are you really blaming me for something that started millions of years ago?”

  “James is this planet’s only hope. And yet, you’re trying to stop him. You’re fighting on the side of mass extinction, Zach.”

  “I’m fighting to rescue my friends, to give them a better future.”

  “They won’t have a future if you keep this up. Any victory you win will be a pyrrhic one.”

  “Not if we take up the cause.”

  “You can’t fill James’ shoes. No one can. He’s a true visionary. He poured his life into the Apex Predator project. He saw it through every crisis, every miserable failure. He brought ancient creatures back to life. He created the colossi. In short, he’s irreplaceable.”

  “He’s also demented.”

  “True genius is never appreciated in its time.”

  “Enough.” Caplan glanced at Dr. Barden. “It’s over, Doc. I need you to stop the archaics.”

  “What?” Dr. Barden croaked.

  “You control their microchips, right? That means you can release them from their bloodlust.”

  “Oh, I see.” Realization dawned on Roberts’ visage. “Your friends are fighting the archaics, aren’t they? That’s why you came down here alone.”

  “My friends aren’t the only ones in danger.” Caplan kept his gaze focused on Dr. Barden. “You can end this right now. Stop the bloodlust.”

  The doctor’s face twisted with discomfort. He backed up against the far wall, as if trying to melt into it.

  “He’s not going to help you.” Roberts took a step forward. “Shall we finish this?”

  Caplan thought back to the torture he’d received at Roberts’ hands. He recalled the beating, the electroshocks, and the sleep deprivation. But most of all, he thought about Morgan. He thought about the transformation process, about the horror and pain she must’ve endured.

  Quiet anger filled his soul. Twirling his axe, he circled around to his right. Holding her fists like a boxer, Roberts came out to meet him.

  He took a few swings, measuring her up. She dodged his attacks and offered up a few jabs of her own. Slowly, she drove him back toward a module.

  “Ever thought about joining our archaic program?” she asked. “We’re always looking for new recruits.”

  “You first,” he replied. “After all, you’ve already got the mentality for it.”

  She threw a jab. Caplan leapt out of the way. She followed it up with a vicious uppercut. He ducked and the fist whistled past his head.

  Hoping to catch her off-balance, he swung his axe overhand. She lifted her forearm, cutting off his attack. With his right side exposed, she aimed a punch at his waist.

  Searing pain ripped through his body as the brass knuckles sank into his side. She followed up with a jab to his kidney. More pain flooded through him. Gasping for air, he reeled backward. His legs struck the module and he spun away, narrowly eluding a third blow.

  Choking and sputtering, he stumbled across the room. His free hand grabbed hold of another module and he fought to catch his breath.

  She walked to the open module. Her fingers danced over a control panel. Lights flashed and a series of beeps rang out. A surge of electricity passed through the room as the module creaked open. “This is the module we used to transform Amanda. In fact, the program is still up.” She twisted toward Caplan. “I really do like the idea of turning you into an archaic. You won’t live long but at least Amanda won’t have to die alone.”

  “And I really like the idea of killing you,” he managed through light gasps. “That way Kevin won’t be all alone in Hell.”

  She strode toward him, her red cloak scraping gently against the floor. Her smile was at full wattage. Her clenched fists were clearly itching for another round.

  She shot a cross at his waist. He maneuvered to block it. Her brass knuckles slammed into his forearm. It exploded in pain and a tingling sensation shot down his fingertips.

  She swung more fists at him, battering his sides. Gritting his teeth, he kept his arms low, blocking the shots as best as possible. Pressing hard, she turned him in a circle. Then she drove him back.

  His legs brushed up against the module for a second time. But this time was different. This time, he could feel the yawning interior behind him. The module was wide open and ready to accept a new patient.

  He swung his axe. She dodged it, but he didn’t stop. Instead, he kept right on swinging, puncturing the floor with the sharp blade.

  “You missed,” she said.

  “Did I?” He shoved her.

  Her feet backpedaled. But her cloak, pinned to the floor by the axe, halted her momentum. Arms flailing, she fought to keep her balance.

  He plowed into her. She toppled over. Her head struck the floor and her eyes bulged in pain.

  Freeing herself from the cloak, she leapt to her feet. Her free hand reared back and she took a wild swing. He ducked. Her momentum carried her forward. Swinging behind her, Caplan gave her another shove.

  She stumbled into the open module. Her head struck the interior and she fell awkwardly into the sloped, dentist-style chair.

  Grabbing the open door, he slammed it shut. Electricity buzzed. Machinery whirred. A faint scream, full of intense agony, drifted out of the module.

  Dr. Barden grimaced. “Don’t do this.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she was telling the truth. That module was pre-programmed for Ms. Morgan.”

  “So?”

  “Ms. Morgan’s genetic profile, like all such profiles, is utterly unique. Subjecting Commander Roberts to this kind of transformation won’t just kill her. It’ll kill her in the most painful way possible.”

  Caplan thought back to Morgan, to the painful and terrifying changes she’d been forced to undergo. Changes that would, very soon, end her life. He couldn’t save her. But at least he could punish the person responsible for hurting her.

  “Good,” he said. “It couldn’t have happened to a nicer person.”

  Chapter 70

  Date: December 3, 2017, 4:24 a.m.; Location: Savage Station, Vallerio Forest, NH

  “I’m sorry.” Dr. Barden exhaled. “But I can’t help you.”

  Caplan pushed the man up against a second module. “Do you want to end up like Chenoa?”

  “If I could help you, I would. But I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I only install the microchips. I don’t control them.”

  Caplan’s eyes cinched tight and he took a deep breath. “Let me guess. James?”

  “James.”

  He released Dr. Barden and took a step back, his twin axes now jingling gently against his waist. In the process, h
e saw Roberts’ module. Her vitals, listed on a small monitor, showed she’d already expired. But the machine remained in operation nonetheless, still performing its cruel pre-programmed genetic treatment.

  It was one thing to subject Roberts to a forced transformation. It was something else to do it to innocent people. Could he and his friends really take Corbotch’s place? Could they really create more archaics? And even if they could, could they ever fully fill the man’s shoes? Or had Roberts been right about Caplan dooming the planet to certain extinction?

  Mills, bow in one hand and a blood-soaked arrow in the other one, shifted on the balls of her feet. “Where’s James now?”

  “He maintains a bunker on Level X,” the doctor replied. “He monitors and controls every aspect of the Apex Predator project from down there.”

  “I know the place.” Caplan’s mind skipped back to the hunting lodge room. To the animal heads. To Lucy, the first archaic he’d ever seen. “I assume he’s got it locked up tight. How do we get inside?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Mills stared daggers at him.

  “I’m telling the truth. I never went down there without an invitation.”

  “Do you know how to operate the microchips?” Caplan asked.

  Dr. Barden shook his head. “I’m a doctor, not an electronics whiz. My work with the microchips began and ended with the transplant.”

  “Does anyone else around here know how to operate them?”

  “I doubt it. James kept many things, including those chips, close to the vest.”

  Soft bellows and faint shrieks leaked through the ceiling. Caplan and Mills exchanged a knowing look. Clearly, the archaics were roaming the upper floors. It wouldn’t be long before they reached the clinic.

  A part of Caplan wanted to tell Mills to hunker down in the room, to wait with Dr. Barden. Not that she’d actually listen to him, but the desire to protect her hit him on a very deep level.

  On the other hand, he’d felt Corbotch’s freakish, genetically-engineered strength back in the North Maine Woods. Like it or not, he was no match for that. To defeat Corbotch, he would need her help.

  He arched an eyebrow at Mills. “Up for another fight?”

  “With James?” Her eyes glowered with barely-concealed pleasure. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Chapter 71

  Date: December 3, 2017, 4:46 a.m.; Location: Savage Station, Vallerio Forest, NH

  “Don’t be shy.” Corbotch’s loud voice boomed through the slightly-cracked elephant doors. “Come in. Make yourselves at home.”

  Caplan shared a glance with Mills. Then he pushed one of the doors open. The familiar wood-paneled room with its elaborate carpeting materialized before him. He saw the wall-mounted animal heads and the old-fashioned chairs and couches. He saw the dark wood tables along with the statues and figurines adorning their surfaces. And he took note of the glass cabinets, stocked with antique pistols, muskets, and rifles.

  Corbotch, dressed in his usual tailored white shirt and gray sport coat, faced the monitor bank. On Caplan’s prior visit, the screens had depicted feeds of behemoths. But now, they mostly showed images of Savage Station’s interior.

  One screen showed a close-up of Ross. The man lay on his back, desperately fighting off a frenzied archaic. Another screen depicted Teo. Back to a wall, she swung a broken propeller blindly at a crowd of clawing, scratching archaics. Toland took up a third screen. He’d climbed on top of a helicopter and was stomping away at four or five screeching archaics. Still other screens showed still other people. The Pylors, Tuffel, Aquila, and all of the rest. Some lay dead. The rest fought for their lives.

  Just one screen was devoted to the world outside of Savage. It showed a top-down view of a behemoth trail. A car—Elliot’s car—shot down the trail at high-speed, followed closely by the enormous Saber.

  Caplan’s fingers curled around the axe handles. He wanted to kill Corbotch. And yet, he couldn’t do that. He needed the man. He needed him to help save his friends.

  Corbotch walked to the door. He closed it and slid several bolts into place. Turning around, he offered Caplan and Mills an easy smile. “Hello, Zach. Hello to you as well, Bailey. Welcome back to Savage.”

  Caplan’s gaze remained locked on the monitors. “Stop this,” he said. “Now.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

  “It’s not just us,” Mills said. “Your own people are in danger.”

  “I know. But at least those who made it to their quarters will survive.”

  “Maybe for now. But not forever.”

  “The archaics will get bored once they finish off your friends. They’ll leave and this station will return to normal.”

  Caplan knew Corbotch had a cruel side. Even so, he found himself startled by the man’s lack of concern. His brain worked in overdrive as he sought about for a way to save his friends. “We can help you,” he said at last.

  Corbotch gave him a curious look.

  “Chenoa is dead. So are her soldiers.”

  “And you want to replace them?” Corbotch shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “You need people. We’ve got people.”

  “Dozens of survivor communities operate on this continent. They’re in constant danger and exist on meager resources. If I so much as snapped my fingers, they’d come running.” He shrugged. “I’ll miss Chenoa. I’ll miss the others as well. But replacing them will be an easy task.”

  Caplan rushed Corbotch. His right axe swept in a downward direction. His left axe curled back, ready to strike the follow-up blow.

  Corbotch sidestepped the first blade. Jumping back, he dodged the second axe as well. His hand shot out. He grabbed Caplan’s shoulder and yanked.

  Caplan hurtled through the air. His back smashed into one of the chairs and he crumpled to the carpet.

  Corbotch took a second to straighten out his shirt. “Do you think I like this?” he asked. “Do you think I enjoy watching people die?”

  Caplan rubbed his aching jaw. “I know you do.”

  “Enemies, yes. But not innocent people. Not people who never tried to harm me. I’m not a monster, Zach. Perhaps I’ve done monstrous things, but I’m not a monster.”

  “Earth to James,” Mills said. “Doing monstrous things makes you a monster.”

  “Monster don’t hate themselves.”

  Caplan blinked. “What?”

  “I may appear cold-blooded to you. But believe it or not, all of the lives I’ve ended have taken a toll on me.” He sighed. “If I’d left well enough alone, the extinction would’ve wiped out our species. By then, this entire planet would’ve been dead. So, mankind was always doomed. I might’ve sped things up a bit, but our fate was written in stone long before any of us were born. That knowledge is the only thing that allows me to live with what I’ve done.”

  Still holding the axes, Caplan climbed to his feet. Noticing a sudden commotion, he glanced at a monitor. An archaic was in the process of tackling Tuffel to the ground. Other archaics swarmed the Danter resident. Their fists beat his chest. Their teeth sank into his flesh. Within seconds, he was a bloody corpse. Nausea roiled Caplan’s gut and he had to grip the chair to keep from keeling over.

  “So, I killed off our species,” Corbotch continued. “And in the process gave this planet its only chance at survival.”

  “I get it. I do.” Caplan swallowed hard. “But a few more people won’t change anything. Let our friends live. We’ll stay here. We’ll help you.”

  “I can’t. Even if I wanted to help you, it’s impossible.” He followed Caplan’s gaze to the swarming archaics. Then he nodded at a large console beneath the monitors. “I control the microchips from that console. But my control is limited. I can’t just turn their thirst for blood on and off like a light bulb. Once it’s gone, it’s gone for good.”

  “That’s fine with us,” Mills replied.

  “But not with me. I didn’t instill bloodlust in my creations be
cause I want them to kill indiscriminately. I did it because they’re new to this world. Without bloodlust, they won’t survive.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “No, I don’t,” he acknowledged. “But I believe it.”

  “You can make more archaics.” Caplan’s tone turned desperate. “You can make them as bloodthirsty as you like. Just let our friends live.”

  “It’s far too risky. The world needs archaics and it needs them now.”

  Mills shifted her gaze to one of the monitors. “Then at least stop Saber.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Saber?”

  “The saber-toothed tiger behemoth.” She nodded at the massive creature chasing Elliott’s car. “Or rather, mega behemoth. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s grown a bit.”

  “I’m aware of the situation.”

  Caplan tasted blood on his tongue. “Are you aware that it killed ArcSim, the short-faced bear behemoth?”

  Corbotch’s face twisted slightly with … was that frustration? “Yes.”

  “And you haven’t cut off its bloodthirst yet? It seems to me you wouldn’t want a behemoth killing other behemoths before they get a chance to patch up the food chain.”

  Corbotch didn’t respond.

  “Wait a minute.” Mills furrowed her brow. “You already cut off its thirst, didn’t you?”

  “That’s not …” He took a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter. Plans are in place to deal with the situation.”

  The sudden gnashing of teeth caused Caplan’s gaze to shift to another monitor. The upper-left screen showed Connie Aquila. Her head was tilted to the left and an archaic was biting down on her neck. Her eyes bulged with pain and her mouth was locked open in a silent scream. Then blood spilt forth and she slumped to the ground.

  First, Tuffel. Now, Aquila. Unless he did something quick, everyone else would follow suit. He looked at other screens. Some contained data and diagrams. Presumably, that was how Corbotch controlled the microchips and thus, his creations.

  But was Caplan willing to risk everything to save his friends? What if Corbotch was right? What if shutting down the bloodlust sealed the world’s fate?