“Thanks. Now what I’d like you to …”
“At Crow’s request, I have secretly repositioned a military satellite over that part of the South Pacific Ocean, so soon we’ll be able to zoom downward and observe the action—assuming there is any action to be observed. I estimate we’ll be ready at 6:32 am.”
Nick sniggered Geronimo’s precision. “Thanks again. Now as I started to say, please replay the security video for this detention room. It appears our imprisoned creature has escaped, but the cage is undamaged.”
Less than a minute later, Geronimo located the footage and prepared to play it. Geronimo was akin to an electronic magician.
The requested video popped up on the computer monitor and showed a tiny animal squeezing through the space between two bars like a mouse. It scampered around the room searching for a means of escape, and when it found none, it hid in the murky space beneath the wooden bench across the room.
Nick’s gaze roamed to the bench. “Thanks again, Geronimo. We’ll take it from here.” He closed the panel, crossed the room, knelt on one knee, and probed the shadow for the incredible shrinking Maggie Wentworth.
The miniature lizard creature scurried out from the shadows and raced to the open door. It might have been faster than the three investigators, but not as quick as Geronimo. In the blink of an eye, Geronimo activated the room’s backup security, which electrified the threshold. Wentworth stepped on the booby-trapped threshold and boogied wildly to the electrical current coursing through its minute body.
Crow seized a small fishing net mounted to the room’s seafaring décor wall and dropped it over the jitterbugging abomination. “All right, Geronimo, shut down the electric current!”
“As you say, Great Red Chief,” the supercomputer replied sardonically.
Crow shook his head as he dragged the nearly weightless, squirming mutant from the entrance while Neo slammed the door. Maggie’s escape attempt was terminated.
Nick examined the elfin-sized mutation through the netting. The lizard creature was still purple, but it had shrunk from four feet to eight inches in length. Its leg count had evolved from six to twelve legs, its elliptical eye count doubled to eight, and its alligator-shaped mouth was now a wide disc shape stuffed with spiny fangs. The teeth were glazed with some kind of gooey lime green coating, which Nick presumed was poison.
“I’ll need a lot of blood if you want me to run a complete DNA test battery,” Geronimo informed them.
Crow glanced up at the ceiling speaker. “You have seen the size of this thing, haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Drawing too much blood will kill it,” Crow added firmly.
“If you want a complete DNA workup, you’ll have to kill it,” the computer insisted.”
Nick reached for the snapping lizard mutation. “Watch out for those teeth, guys. They’ve got some lime green poison all over them.”
“No lie, Sherlock!” Neo ribbed facetiously. “This isn’t our first rodeo, you know?”
Nick didn’t bite on Neo’s belligerent remark as he flattened himself on the floor beside the netting. “Can you talk, Maggie?” he asked. “If you can, do it now before you shrink so small, we won’t be able to hear your voice at all.”
She answered the question with a series of shrill clicks and wheezes, but nothing was comprehensible. Maggie’s newly shaped mouth and tongue prevented her from communicating in English.
Nick grimaced. “Why in the world did you inject yourself with that syringe in your desk drawer?” he pressed, bewildered why anyone would do that to herself. When she didn’t answer, he raised himself to his hands and knees and swore. He would never understand criminal motives for illogical acts.
“Hey, your lizard’s scratching the floor,” Neo pointed out.
“It’s probably nothing,” Crow spoke up. “Probably has an itch.”
Nick flattened himself next to Maggie once more while Crow left the room to fetch the smallest phlebotomy syringe and tubes in his lab. Nick realized that if she really could converse with them, this was her final opportunity before Crow returned and drained her blood.
“Can you answer one scratch for yes, and two for no?” he asked, feeling foolish in front of Neo the skeptic.
One scratch.
“Got it!”
“Are you sure you’re not imagining her response?” Neo posed cynically.
“I don’t think so.” Nick proceeded to clearly enunciate his next question. “Did you realize the amber liquid in that syringe would transform you like this?”
Two heavy scratches.
Nick pondered his next question as Maggie grew even smaller. He knew Crow would demand to draw her blood immediately upon his return before there was nothing more than a microscopic droplet left.
As if on cue, he rushed into the room and noticed her diminished size. “C’mon, Nick, I gotta draw some blood now,” he pleaded.
“Hold your horses,” Nick bristled, then turned back to Maggie. “Does the person who gave you the syringe work for Oracle?”
Two scratches.
Exasperated, Nick scooted away and stood. She couldn’t name the killer with yes and no scratching. “Okay, Crow, she’s all yours.”
Neo pinned Maggie down with light pressure from his shoe sole as Crow withdrew the last of her blood. Wentworth’s body withered and trembled before rolling on its side. Lifeless. Nick was unexpectedly sad at her passing. What lie was she told about the effects of the amber fluid? He would never know.
Nick turned away. If it was the last thing he ever did, he would find the person responsible for Wentworth injecting herself and make that person pay for his or her treachery.
Neo raised his foot as Crow inspected the single vial of blood.
“Not much to experiment with,” the Indian lamented.
“Tell Geronimo to be selective with the tests he runs,” Nick said quietly.
“Of course I will, Nick Bellamy!” Geronimo boomed over the speaker.
“Glad to hear it. And since you’ve got so much time on your hands that you can eavesdrop on us, now’s as good a time as any to fill me in on Jack Brunnel.”
“Yes, Sardonic White Master.”
“Try not to be so disrespectful, okay?”
“I shall try. Jack Brunnel was the creator and director of Final Scream, Oracle’s most profitable show. Everyone whoever worked with him described him as a self-centered egotist who demanded compliance from the actors and crew alike. In other words, it was either Brunnel’s way or the highway.”
Neo frowned. “Sounds like a real peach of a guy.”
“I sense sarcasm,” Geronimo stated stiffly.
“You sensed right,” Neo spat back.
“Brunnel was extremely arrogant and self-assured. He was in the television business for twenty-six years. He is currently unmarried and has three ex-wives and five children he pays for, but never sees. He is up-to-date on his alimony and child support payments. He owns one of the lesser estates in Riverside, California, and a waterfront condominium in Miami Beach, Florida. Brunnel does not smoke but drinks heavily when he’s not working. He has an impressively long arrest record, but most of them have been for disorderly conduct in bar fights around the country.”
“Was he ever associated with a television show where some of the show’s actors suffered unexplained accidents or simply vanished?”
“Not that I could discover, and I have the world’s information at my beck and call,” the supercomputer stated haughtily.
Nick shot Crow an irritated look, since the Indian was responsible for Geronimo’s arrogance. “What does Brunnel look like, in case I bump into him on Terror Island?”
The computer flashed the producer’s picture on the high definition screen. Brunnel’s hair was black, long, and unkempt in Geronimo’s file photo. He had a slight paunch protruding over his cutoff jeans and rodeo belt buckle. He wore a plain white T-shirt, a tattered New York Yankees ball cap, and black Converse Chuck Taylor basketbal
l shoes with no socks.
“Okay, got it. Thanks,” Nick told Geronimo.
Neo swept Maggie Wentworth’s tiny corpse into a dust pan and dumped it unceremoniously into the corner wastebasket. He rehung the fishing net and headed for the exit.
Nick made the cage disappear and joined Neo in the hallway. “I’m going to head upstairs. Maybe Gabriella needs a hand washing her back in the shower,” he said with a wink.
“Planning on getting some action, huh?” Neo ribbed his friend.
Nick laughed. “One can wish, but it will have to be after dinner. I’m famished.”
Crow clucked his tongue as he swung the door shut behind him. “While you’re making whoopee with Gabriella, Custer, Geronimo and I’ll be sweating our asses off testing that amber fluid and running Wentworth’s blood through the DNA mill,” Crow remarked wearily. “But like you, that’ll all have to wait until I grab a bite to eat myself.”
Nick slapped him playfully on the back before riding the elevator up to his floor and entering his apartment. The shower was quiet, and Gabriella was nowhere to be found. At length he spotted a note taped to the refrigerator informing him she went home and he should join her there as soon as possible for some bedroom play time.
Nick chuckled, folded the note, and stuffed it in his pocket. That’s when he noticed another note in the same pocket. Rance’s note. He had forgotten all about it. He removed it, crashed on the couch, and rubbed his drowsy eyelids as he spread the crinkled paper on the glass coffee table. His curiosity was piqued again. Passing a secret note was so James Bond of his former boss.
20
Reese was nearly out of gas as she fought the powerful waves and currents crashing into the invisible barrier. “Jesus, Noah, in a sane world there’s no invisible anything!” she blustered. Clumps of seaweed crowned the whitecaps surfing the morning’s high tide.
“Who said this world is sane, kiddo? And it’s definitely insane for someone to someone magically to erect this wall. My cousin Nick swears the supernatural thrives on this planet.”
“Then your cousin has got a real problem. Believing in magic is like believing in Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy,” she snapped.
Noah spit out a mouthful of salty water. “Hey, I believe in Santa Claus!”
She laughed and kissed his wet cheek. “Then I guess you’re an incurable romantic … or insane!”
“Probably a bit of both.”
“So how do you know so much about the supernatural?”
“Because I’ve paid attention to my cousin Nick’s horror stories for years, and he’s gone up against some pretty incredible monsters. Murderous supernatural beings. And mages practicing the ancient black arts.”
She chuffed. “Who this cousin of yours? A Fox Mulder wannabe from the X-Files?”
Noah chuckled. “Hardly. He and his two partners are supernatural investigators. If my cousin was swimming here with us right now, he could counteract the invisible barrier spell and pick off the sniper in nothing flat. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”
She spit out a curt laugh. “There’s more? Does he leap tall buildings in a single bound … like Superman?”
“I never asked him,” he joked.
“Very funny, Noah. So c’mon, spill it. What else can you tell me about your super cousin?”
“His fiancée’s a witch,” he declared.
“Right, and I’m Jennifer Lawrence!” she retorted mockingly.
Noah shrugged. “Look, I’m telling the truth, but if you don’t believe me, so be it. It’s still the truth,” he declared coolly.
She touched his arm. “Don’t get mad. I’m only teasing,” she admitted.
He nodded stiffly and smiled. Briefly. “Let’s follow the wall and see how far it goes into the ocean. I want to move around it and get back to shore before the mermen and mermaids catch wind of us.”
“Good idea.”
He slid a hand along the smooth invisible surface as they fought the rolling whitecaps; he then wrapped his free hand around her waist. Her body stiffened, her feet danced, and she cried out in pain. The briny water burned her raw plant wounds.
“Do you want to go back?” he asked.
“Hell no. Let’s keep going,” she hollered at him. “Don’t forget, the sniper’s back there waiting for us.”
Noah imagined the water felt like acid to her skin, and he respected her even more for ignoring the excruciating stings. “Sorry about your pain,” he offered softly.
“Forget the sympathy; let’s just get around the barrier and find the cove. I’ll be … fine.” She groaned again, and the next wave washed her tears away.
Knowing there was nothing he could do to ease her soreness, Noah plowed ahead. “The end of the damned barrier has to be close,” he asserted, attempting to boost Reese’s spirits, but the bitter reality was that he had no idea how far out they’d have to swim before the wall ended. Maybe a half-mile or so.
Since Reese struggled against the frothy breakers, Noah recalled his lifeguard days, rolled her onto her back, gripped her chin, and pulled her floating body parallel to his. Once he established a rhythm, it was an easy matter to tow her alongside him. His anxious gaze drifted out to sea, but he saw nothing. He understood the farther they swam out into the Pacific, the greater the odds of them encountering the mermen.
And after tangling with them last night, Noah had every reason to worry.
The wall finally ended about a hundred yards out, and Noah executed a sloppy U-turn and swam toward shore on the other side of the wall. He went about ten feet before conking his head against another invisible barrier running parallel to the shoreline. Frustrated, he continued along that wall for another hundred yards, but there was no end.
Reese grabbed his hand and bobbed up beside him. “What’s wrong?”
Noah grudgingly told her about the new barrier while he mentally weighed the pros and cons of returning to shore where they started. An unending succession of bruising breakers tossed them violently into the wall, and Noah knew their bodies couldn’t withstand that measure of beating for very long.
“Let’s go back,” he suggested.
“Yeah, I suppose. These waves are kicking the shit out of me.”
They retreated back to the invisible corner and swam toward the beach. A flurry of bullets greeted their return, zipped past their heads, and ricocheted off the invisible wall. Dazed, Noah dragged Reese back around the corner where the bullets couldn’t reach them.
“So much for that dumb idea,” Noah groused. Again he scanned the mountaintop for the ruthless sniper, and again he saw nothing.
Reese was now so frail, she looked like she might lose consciousness any minute. “Now what, Noah?”
“I guess we’ll have to swim for the other side of the barrier, like we tried the first time. If we swim out a little farther, then the waves won’t bash us against the wall.”
“What about the sea monsters?”
“I know. We’ll be completely vulnerable. So are you up for my idea?”
Reese was totally exasperated. “What choice do I have? Move on or drown. Hmm, that’s a tough one, all right.” Reese draped her arms around Noah’s neck and hugged him. Her blue lips chattered. “Don’t … let … go of me, okay?”
Noah nodded grimly. He wasn’t in much better physical shape than she was. He was so tired, and his legs were on the verge of cramping with every swim kick. “Not a chance. I’ll never let you go.” Then he did something that even amazed himself. He kissed her. He pulled back, looking guilty. “Sorry about that.”
“You waste too much time being sorry. Be glad you kissed me. I am.”
She had a point. He gathered his remaining muscle reserve and swam farther from the wall. Noah side stroked while cupping her chin as before. He was so exhausted that he didn’t see the enormous creature heading straight for them. He also failed to spot a school of ominous dorsal fins and scaly tails slashing the whitecaps and flanking the fast moving monster.
Finally, his sixth sense alerted his curiosity and compelled him to gaze out to sea. He blinked from the sun’s glare as he studied the broken glittering surface. It wasn’t long before he caught sight of the looming danger. Something gigantic like a whale or squid was coming for them like a runaway train. And its escorts were sharks and mermen. How was he going to out swim them? His weary mind spazzed out. They were doomed … unless …
Praying the second wall wasn’t too long, he shifted Reese’s wilted body so it could better ride the hissing whitewater atop the massive incoming breaker. Together they rode the monster wave at a forty-five degree angle to the shoreline. If the wall extended past that point, the resulting collision would mash their bodies into pulp.
If his epiphany worked, then the speeding wave would propel them to shore before the sea monsters caught and consumed them. That was a big if, and his subconscious knew it, but he preferred to be optimistic.
The wave hissed so loudly, it nearly blocked his inner thoughts. Maybe that was a good thing, considering their wild ride and the carnivores pursuing them. The breaker swept them toward the invisible barrier—or hopefully shore—at a dizzying velocity, like an asteroid hurtling toward Earth.
Noah saw the blurry northern edge of their rushing behemoth climb the invisible wall, and none of it spilled over to the beach. Noah shut his eyes. So far, his scheme was lethally flawed. The mounting crest’s roar smothered Noah’s violent, animalistic cry as he tightened his grip around Reese’s shoulders.
This was it.
Do or die.
Sink or swim.
A flood of crazy clichés overwhelmed his mind.
Noah held his breath as they sped toward the invisible barrier.
It looked as if he and Reese were to be the next nameless Terror Island victims.
Only they would be buried at sea without a trace.
21
The glistening front gate magically swung in as Gabriella accelerated past the vacant guardhouse and onto her family’s immense Duneden, Ohio, estate. The ornamental flagstone and black wrought iron fence with a menacing gargoyle statue adorning the peak of each post stood ten feet high and encircled the entire ten acres. These posts were precisely spaced thirteen feet apart. For good luck. The inimical creatures’ eyes followed her Mustang’s progress along the driveway, which made her feel safe and sound. The familiar gargoyles had been her family’s guardians for centuries.
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