“You sure you're not with the army?” Chad asked.
“Want me to pinky swear?” Meigs grunted. “Besides, you think the army would hand out Gen-5 goggles like this just to track you down? Shit no, the army sets up road blocks and spends thousands of dollars on jet fuel to circle Black Hawks around trying to spot you from the air. I don’t have any tanks or even a matvee. I got four other guys with me and a truck parked on the south side of the Trinity.”
The radio clipped to his tactical vest warbled. Meigs cocked his head, listening to a transmission inside his helmet. He squeezed the radio on his vest and said, “Roger that, package confirmed. Looking right at him.” He smiled. “Unharmed…" He listened for a moment. "Roger, that. We're Oscar Mike.”
“Who was that?” asked Chad.
“My boss.” Meigs winked. “He started Oakrock—ex-Navy SEAL. He never gets involved in individual assignments, but you my friend are very important to some well-connected people.”
“Oh,” Chad said, stalling.
“Come on." He hefted one of Chad's bags. "Shit, what’s in here?” asked Meigs, opening the backpack. “Cookies and soda?” He grunted.
“Not bad kid—but you don’t need this anymore. We get you back to base, you can have a hot meal, dessert—whatever you want. "
Chad didn’t know what to think. He stared out the window at the soldiers manning the roadblock. “Wait—how did you get here so fast?”
Meigs grinned. “Like I said, money gets things done.” He dismissed the roadblock with a wave. “Come on, I’ll take one of these bags. Look, if I was really with the army, you think I’d be pissing around with you this long? I’d probably just knock you out and drag your ass back to base over my shoulder.”
Chad reluctantly handed over Jess’ backpack, but kept her satchel. He gripped the purple strap in both hands and took a deep breath.
“Ready?” asked Meigs.
Chad thought about his limited options. He had none, really—go with Meigs or the army. And he knew where they would take him. “Did you find Jess?”
"Me personally? No—that was another team. But yeah, Oakrock found your girlfriend and turned her over to the army.”
Chad frowned.
Meigs threw his hands up. “She's fine. Now come on, man, let's go. Doesn’t it gross you out there’s a couple rotting corpses down the hall? Fuck.”
Chad shrugged, thinking of the night he escaped the airport and the pit of body bags. “I’ve seen worse.”
Meigs laughed again. “You're hardcore, dude, I’ll give you that. Come on, we’ll go out the back. My men cut a hole in the fence—there’s a walkway down the hill to the river—”
“I know. That’s the way I came.”
Meigs nodded. “That was smart to avoid the roadblock, but I don't know why you'd stay here—”
“It wasn’t there when I came through.” Chad shrugged. "I got lucky."
“Lady Luck is good to have on your side.” Meigs adjusted his chin strap. “You ready? Army’s settin' up shop at Grapevine High, just over there,” he said, pointing at the lights in the distance. “We need to be long gone by the time they search every house in this neighborhood. They knew you were on the move with a bike—”
“How?” asked Chad, desperate for news of Jess. “The girl, Jess—”
“I told you,” Meigs said. “I didn't find your girlfriend—heard the radio chatter when the other team turned her over, that’s all. They talked about you being on a bike and probably heading south.”
I’m sorry, Jess.
“So naturally, we came north. Guess they eventually did, too,” he said, jerking a thumb at the roadblock, “after they pulled their heads out of their asses and realized what you did.”
“Thanks.”
“Now, you ready to go? If my CO has to come convince you to leave, you won't like it. He's not as pleasant as I am.”
Chad looked out the window again and sighed, knowing he really didn't have a choice. “Okay.”
CHAPTER 17
Long Night
DOCTOR BOATNER LOOKED UP from his workstation. "Ah, there you are, Albert! Come in, come in. I want you to have a look at what I've found."
Daniels stepped through the door into the brightly lit lab Boatner now maintained in the International Terminal. He let his eyes adjust, then joined the civilian virologist in front of the monitor.
Boatner stepped back and motioned Daniels to look. "See for yourself. I think I've isolated something of interest."
"You've gone over my findings?" asked Daniels as he peered at the screen. A small oblong disk covered in translucent bumps waited patiently in the center of the field of view. "What is this? Is this—that's a T-cell?"
"Not just any T-cell—this is one I've created."
Daniels stared at the screen. "You cloned it?"
"Well, I don't know as if I'd go so far as to say cloned, but we definitely duplicated it," Boatner said, waving an arm to encompass the others in the lab. "All of us. I just came up with the method for replication."
"So it works then—my idea works?" Daniels asked, barely daring to breathe.
Boatner's smile broadened. "Yes!" He lowered his hands. "Sort of."
"What?" asked Daniels. The hope that flared to life in his chest faded as fast as Boatner's smile.
"We can replicate Huntley's immune system, but not more than a few cells at a time. The matrix is too unstable—it all falls apart. It's like the sequencing is fighting us."
Daniels thought about this for a moment. "It's a mutation—an aberration. The genes aren't fighting us—nature itself is."
Boatner shoved his hands into his lab coat pockets. "Don't get dramatic on me Albert, I haven't had enough caffeine yet for that. Nature doesn't give two shits about anything, especially not us.” He turned to look at the screen. “That boy is different. But an aberration is something he's not. He's….I don’t know, better."
"Now he's the next step in human evolution?" Daniels asked with a sneer. "Really? How long has it been since you got some sleep?"
Boatner regarded his colleague. “When was the last time you got any sleep?”
Daniels rubbed his eyes and sighed. "Okay.” He put a hand up to concede the point. “So we're having problems getting the matrix to stabilize after modification—"
"Yes. I've put out calls for help to my colleagues in Europe—the ones still alive, that is." He shrugged. "I was hoping a fresh set of eyes might see something I missed."
Daniels nodded. "No, it makes sense." He thought for a moment. "Did you try teasing the second-tier nucleobase proteins?"
Boatner stared at his desk for a moment. "No. I didn't. The first tier proteins were inhibiting our efforts." Boatner looked up at Daniels abruptly. “Wait—what if we reversed the process?”
“Reverse it?”
“Yes,” explained Boatner, as he cleared off the desk in search of pen and paper. Frustrated at the lack of supplies, he used a marker to draw on the back of a metal clipboard. “We’ve been following the standard operating procedure for splicing, starting at the top and working our way down…” he mumbled.
Daniels crossed his arms. “And? How else would we do it?”
"If we could get the baseline even…" Boatner mused as he scribbled.
Daniels ran a hand through his hair and sat heavily on the nearest uncluttered chair. "We’ve burned through our entire stock of blood, though. The samples Raythie collected on the bus when she brought him in are all gone. Without him, we're up a creek."
Boatner ignored him. “Why not start at the bottom and tease the protein chains going up the tiers?” he asked himself. Boatner shook his head. “Because the proteins can’t handle the sudden change in matrix stability…”
Daniels got up and looked over the civilian’s shoulder at the crude sketch on the clipboard. “But Chad’s genetic makeup already fights the stabilizing matrix,” he observed. “Like it’s reversed its own polarity or something.”
“It wants to g
o the other way,” agreed Boatner. “Why should we force it to go backwards, then?”
Daniels shook his head. “I’m not aware of anyone even contemplating this procedure, let alone putting it into practice. Do you think it’ll work?”
Boatner smiled. “There’s only one way to find out.”
Daniels stared at an empty cup on Boatner’s desk. He leaned back and groaned as he stretched. "This is going to be a long night, isn’t it?"
Boatner smiled. “We better put on another pot of coffee.”
CHAPTER 18
Doublecross
MEIGS HELD HIS HAND out for Chad. "Come on. They're gonna patrol soon—we need to be gone."
Chad tossed his bags through the rough hole in iron the fence at the back of the house and stepped through. Meigs hadn't lied—it looked like someone had taken a lightsaber to the fence and sliced out a man-sized hole.
"Nice bike, kid," muttered a voice in the darkness. Three more soldiers appeared, all sporting night vision goggles.
"You rig up that contraption on the back?" one asked, pointing the barrel of his rifle at Jess' bike.
"Yeah," Chad replied.
"Hope you're not attached to it." He turned to Meigs. "You ready?"
Meigs stepped through the hole in the fence and straightened. He picked up one of Chad's bags and slung it over his shoulder. "Let's move. You take point, Segel."
Chad carried Jess' satchel and the other bag as he followed the four black-clad soldiers down the hill he'd just climbed an hour earlier. They moved silently yet still managed to stay ahead of Chad. He stumbled and tripped his way down the short, steep slope, sending gravel and rocks ahead of him to the muttered curses of his escorts.
At the bottom, Meigs shoved the second pack at Chad's chest. "Here. You want your shit, you carry it from here on out. If it's just food and water, dump it. We have plenty for you."
"Thanks," Chad replied, slinging the bulky backpack over his shoulder. He didn't trust these men as far as he could spit, but he had little other choice. For now, he'd keep all his supplies with him. Besides, it didn't seem right to just throw away all the stuff he'd taken from Jess' house.
"Popovich, check in," barked Meigs. He looked around and cursed. "Popovich, what's your status?" The others moved ahead toward the little bridge in the trees. "Popovich," Meigs growled, turning in a circle, peering off into the trees. "Come in!"
After a moment, Meigs hissed another curse. The others stopped and turned.
"Trouble?" asked the wraith called Segel.
"Something's up," Meigs replied. "I can't raise Popovich. Set the perimeter."
"What's the sitch?" asked a second man as he knelt near end of the foot bridge. Segel and his partner panned out to either side of the path and disappeared.
Meigs pulled Chad into the bushes on the north side of the Trinity. He motioned for Chad to kneel and be quiet, then he did likewise and faced south, his weapon at his shoulder. "Popovich's negative. I can't raise him."
"Shit," muttered one of the men in the darkness. "You think they found him?"
"Don't know. Just stay frosty for a second."
"Got a helo, due south, 600 yards," muttered a voice to Chad's left.
"Damn it—they found him," growled Segel.
"Stupid shit," muttered Meigs.
"I call dibs on his gear," hissed Segel from further up the path.
"Shut the fuck up!" whispered Meigs. "We'll deal with that later. Right now we have to get past that roadblock."
"We going loud?" asked Segel.
"Maybe," said Meigs. He turned back to Chad. "Okay kid, change of plans. We know the army's got nothing north of here. Grapevine High School is their northern outpost—for now. I want you to get back up the hill and get that fairy bike of yours—"
"I told you, it's not mine," Chad protested.
Meigs ignored him. "Listen—we're gonna create a diversion—"
"Finally—some action," said Segel.
"Jesus, will you shut the fuck up? You'll get to shoot that toy of yours, just wait a second." Meigs turned back to Chad. "Okay—get her bike and work your way along that fence up there till you hit Pool Road. You'll be just south of their roadblock, right?"
"Okay," said Chad.
"Good. There's a clump of trees there by the last house—I spotted it on the way in—you can wait there for us." He put a hand on Chad's shoulder.
"So I should just hang out?"
"When the shooting starts, it'll be loud, okay? Just don't think about it—you jump on that bike and get going as fast as you can across Pool and into the neighborhood across the street. The road heads straight west. Go three blocks, then hide behind the first house on the right. Think you can do that?"
"Yes," Chad said with a lot more confidence than he felt. "You want me to ride across the street in the middle of a gun fight? At night?"
"You want to live after the battle?" asked Segel.
"Will you shut up? Get your ass in position up by the main bridge," Meigs said, pointing toward the road.
"Sir, yes sir!" Segel replied, snapping a salute. He turned and trotted off along the river.
"Asshole…" muttered one of the others.
"Stow it. Diallo, Adams, you two know what to do."
"Roger that," replied one of the men concealed in the darkness.
"Wait," Chad said, gripping Meigs' arm as the mercenary turned to leave.
"What is it?"
"There's a sniper in the house across the street from the roadblock. I saw two soldiers go into the house when they first got there…one of them is in the upstairs window—I saw him stick a rifle out…"
Meigs grinned and keyed his radio. "You hear that, Segel? The kid's already more useful than your dumb ass. He says there's a sniper team in the first house across Pool." He clapped Chad on the shoulder and gave him a shove. "Get moving. We'll get you out of this, trust me."
"Okay," Chad said, glad to have done something useful for a change.
"Oh, kid?"
Chad turned back. "Yeah?"
"Don't get shot, okay? That'll ruin my bonus. Now get going!" Meigs turned and sprinted after Segel and the other two mercenaries.
Chad stared at the dark shapes slipping along the Trinity. Suddenly his pride at helping them evaporated. Despite Meigs' occasional friendliness, he was there because someone paid him. He didn't care about Chad, what happened to him, or what the doctors wanted to do to him. Meigs only cared how much money his employer dropped into his bank account.
He cursed his luck as he scrambled back up the rocky hill. Again. He emerged from the tree line, sweating and gasping for breath. Jess' bike was right where he'd left it, just behind the low bush next to the fence. It only took him a moment to attach his bags to the homemade cargo frame.
Good thing I didn't ditch my supplies like Meigs wanted.
He rushed the bike along the fence, heedless of the noise he made as he forced his way through the dry, brittle grass and crunched over the cold ground. Before long he was at his assigned position.
"Took you long enough," muttered Segel from the darkness to his left.
"Jesus!" Chad almost dropped the bike.
"He ain't here, boy. Just keep your head down—I'm counting on this bonus to pay off my beach house. You get shot, I'll take it out of what's left of your ass, you hear?"
Chad nodded, unsure if the man could see him, but he didn't trust his voice not to crack. He'd never been so scared in all his life. Meigs and Segel were getting ready to start a firefight with a dozen honest-to-God soldiers armed with machine guns. Not to mention there was still that sniper across the street…
And I'm supposed to get on this bike and ride across the street through all the bullets?
Chad stared across the four lanes of empty road. The entrance to the neighborhood was right there, maybe fifty or sixty feet away. All he had to do was move fast. It looked like he had to cross a mile of asphalt.
And not get shot—minor detail...
&nb
sp; "Look, when we open up, I'll take out the sniper first. Wait for my signal, then head that way," Segel said. He stepped out of the deep shadows and pointed south.
"There's a few trees in the median. Loop around them for cover then make your dash for the neighborhood. We'll be right behind you."
Chad swallowed. "Okay."
Segel slapped him on the back. "No sweat, boy. Just don't stop and whatever you do, don't look back. We'll catch up to you. Remember where Meigs said to meet?"
Chad nodded. "Yeah—three blocks and find the first house on the right."
"Good. You ready?"
Chad gripped the handlebars with sweaty palms. "I guess…but—"
"Package is ready. Waiting on your mark," Segel whispered. After a moment, he spoke again: "Roger that." He turned to Chad. "Get ready—we'll shoot in about thirty seconds."
Chad closed his eyes and prayed.
"It's on," Segel said a moment later. "Taking out the sniper."
Chad watched the mercenary fiddle with his rifle, then heard a foomp. A split second later, the second story of the house across the street exploded in a ball of fire. The sudden flare of light and noise startled him and he stumbled, falling over the bike.
Segel whooped and laughed. "Get up, kid! Go, go, go!"
Without waiting for a response, the mercenary stepped over Chad and fired his machine gun. Orange tracers streaked out like laser blasts. A hot shell casing landed on Chad's hand and he yelped in surprise as he scrambled to his feet.
Gunfire erupted from across the street as Meigs and the others fired upon the stunned checkpoint guards.
"Move!" yelled Segel over the chaos.
The branch next to Chad's head exploded into a thousand shards. That was all the motivation he needed. He jumped on the bike and burst from the tree line onto the street.
The bike rocketed across the first two lanes and crashed over the far curb, nearly throwing Chad from the seat as the bushes and trees around him splintered into a rain of toothpicks. He screamed.
The mercenaries continued shooting and the soldiers beyond the roadblock returned fire. Another explosion split the air to his right, throwing Chad to the ground. He screamed again and staggered to his feet amid the burning debris that rained down all around him.
The Source: A Wildfire Prequel Page 11