Deadly Genes td-117

by Warren Murphy

  The two hunters had launched themselves headlong at him from opposite directions and were moving too quickly to arrest their forward momentum. Their great surprise at the sudden absence of their quarry turned to yelps of pain as they plowed into one another headfirst. Together, they tumbled to the dirt floor. They rolled back to their feet with surprising swiftness.

  "Did puddy get a bang on him head?" Remo sympathized.

  "Asshole," Evan snarled.

  "Hey, I don't remember Sylvester ever calling Tweety an asshole." Remo frowned.

  Beside him, Ted lunged forward, both hands clawing down at Remo's chest.

  He was fast. Remo was faster.

  "Do I look like a ball of yarn to you?" Remo asked.

  One forearm swept Ted's hands harmlessly away. With his arms no longer stretched out before him, Ted lost his balance. And in that split second, Remo launched a balled fist into his attacker's chest. Bones crunched audibly. Splintered sternum and ribs exploded into heart and lungs. Ted was dead before he hit the ground.

  Even as his partner fell, Evan sprang forward, teeth bared menacingly.

  There was no need to play with this one. The movements of these creatures weren't as graceful as Remo had thought. As Evan thrust his fangs toward Remo's neck, Remo realized he was facing nothing more than a poor dumb animal whose behavior was programmed by twisted science. It wasn't Evan's fault he was what he was.

  Remo showed Evan the compassion that Man alone of all the creatures on Earth could demonstrate to a lesser animal. As he flashed forward for the kill, Remo's flattened palm caught Evan just above his slathering fangs. Facial bones cracked, shattering to jelly. Evan had struck a solid wall. He joined Ted Holstein on the dirt floor.

  Remo looked down upon the bodies. It was a victory without satisfaction. These men weren't to blame for what they'd become. The responsibility for all of this rested squarely on a single set of shoulders.

  A fresh sound came from far above.

  A few more gunshots followed the first. Shouting voices. Panicked.

  Remo spun from the hunters' remains. Racing to the pile of collapsed debris, he scampered to the top. Flexing calf muscles propelled him up out of the basement and onto the ground-floor level. He ran to the source of the commotion.

  In his wake, silence flooded the macabre graveyard.

  Chapter 31

  The first floor of the warehouse split off in two separate wings. The main section was the large part of the building that faced the street. The other was a long addition that extended over the waters of Chelsea Creek at the rear of the property.

  The gunshots he'd heard came from the direction of the river and so when he jumped up through the basement hole Remo struck off into the narrower wing of the musty old building.

  He found a group of hunters hustling away from an alleylike loading-dock tunnel. Beams had collapsed from the low roof. The men were forced to climb awkwardly as they hurried back toward Remo.

  There were six of them in all. Three trained their shotguns back on the door through which they'd just come. The other two bore one of their fellow hunters.

  The man they were carrying had a vicious chest wound. Blood seeped into the cloth of his gray shirt, staining it black.

  "What happened?" Remo demanded, racing up to the men.

  Darting eyes were terrified. Orange, lateafternoon sun shone through dirty windows, illuminating faces shiny with frightened perspiration.

  "It was her!" one of the men panted fearfully.

  "Where?" Remo pressed.

  "The stairs. She jumped us before we could stop her. I think the shots might have scared her off." They hurried past him, hauling their bleeding friend.

  When they realized Remo wasn't with them, two of the men glanced back. They were just in time to see the old wooden stairway door sigh softly shut.

  JUDITH WHITE MOUNTED the stairs five at a time.

  Her heart thudded madly. It was the fear of a hunted animal.

  She was the mouse, cornered by the cat. A fox chased by hounds. A gazelle stalked by a lion.

  It was a horrible feeling. A complete loss of control. Utter, utter helplessness and abandonment. She had seen Remo in the basement. Unbeknownst to him, she had watched through a crack in the baseboard on the far side of the cellar as he went up against her two sacrificial lambs.

  It hadn't been much of a fight. Ted was dispatched so quickly she didn't even see Remo move. Judith fled before he finished off Evan. She didn't need to stay. She knew what the eventual outcome would be.

  Hit the landing running.

  Up the next flight.

  Six steps at a time now. Faster, faster. Next landing, next flight.

  Barely slowing, barely breathing.

  She had more of the original tiger solution but she now knew that it would do her no good. The old files of BGSBS stated very clearly that alcohol dulled or even killed the bacteria on which the new gene coding lived. Most of the men in the area had a blood-alcohol level high enough to blind a herd of bull elephants.

  Judith had lucked out with the ones she did find. Ted Holstein had sobered up after her morning attack. Evan Cleaver appeared to have dried out a bit, as well. Trooper MacGuire had been unquestionably sober.

  The rest?

  Drunks. All drunks. Last landing.

  Judith pounced forward, slapping a palm against the creaky old door. A plume of displaced dust flew up into the air as the door swung wildly open. She moved inside, quickly shutting the door behind her. Her attic room.

  High above her, the tired wooden beams on which she had spent many a night sleeping off her ghoulish feedings stretched toward the distant wall.

  Windows lined all but the wall directly behind her. To her left was the parking lot, to her right, woods.

  Judith raced toward the last set of windows. During more prosperous times, the long dead business that had once occupied the warehouse had built a new wing out over Chelsea Creek. The four-story wood addition rested on huge pylons that had been constructed atop concrete platforms in the river far below.

  At the grimy windows, Judith looked down at the river. Overflow from a dam farther upstream made this area of the waterway treacherous. It was a long drop into swift-moving rapids.

  Judith spun from the window, looking desperately across the big empty attic. There was nowhere else she could go. She was trapped.

  "Some plan," she muttered to herself.

  Footfalls on the stairs. Light as air. Inaudible to a common human. She might have missed them herself if she hadn't been specifically listening for them.

  Two fingers poked into her pocket and removed one of the slender tubes of tiger-gene formula. Her plan was bleak. No matter how she looked at it. But perhaps there was another way.

  Wild-eyed, she waited for the door to open. And for her new species's final reckoning.

  REMO SENSED THE MOVEMENTS coming from the attic room. From the way the animal carried itself, it was either Judith White or another of her tiger creatures.

  At the moment, the animal that lurked before him wasn't his primary concern.

  He had smelled the smoke before he'd even gotten to the staircase. The gunshots of the retreating hunters had drawn others. Huddled together in the parking lot far below, the men had apparently gotten the bright idea to smoke Judith White out. To this end, they'd set fire to the building.

  The wood was catching quickly, too fast for Remo's liking. The stairwell was already filling with black smoke by the time he reached the closed attic door.

  The first hints of flame at the bottom of the stairwell four stories below crackled into his peripheral vision as he pushed the old warped door open.

  Inside, he found nothing but four empty walls. Judith White was nowhere to be seen. Ever cautious-sensitive to the flames licking up below him-Remo stepped into the vast, airy room. In his wake, smoke wafted into the chamber.

  "Here, kitty-kitty-kitty," Remo called. A creak from above his head.

  She'd been hi
ding on the rafter directly above him. Judith dropped, deadweight.

  Remo bent double, catching her falling bulk on the meaty part of his back.

  As her claws brushed the cotton cloth of his T-shirt, Remo flexed his back muscles and jerked left. Judith White flipped off his shoulders. Twisting, she landed solidly on both feet, facing Remo, her teeth bared viciously.

  "You heal quickly," Judith commented, nodding to the spot where her claws had raked his shoulder and chest.

  "Good genes," Remo explained thinly.

  Her smile was feral. "Better genes," she replied. She dived at him again.

  Remo had prepared for her. He was ready to stop her forward momentum as he had with the hunters in the cellar. But as his hand flew out from his side, Judith White did something unexpected.

  At the last minute, she dropped low, beneath his rocketing fist.

  The command had been sent. Remo's hand was already locked into an unstoppable motion. It flew forward, but with nothing to contact it struck only air. It was all he could do to keep his arm from tearing out of its socket.

  He lurched forward as the force of the missed blow knocked him off balance.

  Before Remo could regain his equilibrium, Judith sprang up at the inside of his outstretched arm. Both hands balled tightly, she shoved Remo's chest with a strength far greater than her slight form would have indicated. As he toppled backward to the floor, she leaped forward, collapsing on his prone form.

  In her hand, Judith held a test tube filled with brown, brackish genetic formula. With a savage grin of victory, she tipped the thick liquid into Remo's open mouth.

  CHIUN SPIED THE CROWD Of rowdy hunters the instant he broke from the wooded area behind the adjoining building. They surrounded the warehouse into which Remo had gone.

  Much of the ground floor was already engulfed in flame. Acrid smoke hung heavy in the afternoon air. Arms pumping furiously, he raced across the vast space that separated the two warehouses. By the time he reached the building, the second story had already ignited. Flames were racing up to the third. Near the old loading dock, the hunters were enjoying a celebratory drink. Someone had retrieved a bottle of Jack Daniel's. from one of the trucks. They were trying to figure out how to pour the liquor into their open beer cans without spilling a drop when Chiun raced up behind them.

  "Where is my son?" the Master of Sinanju cried. The voice startled them. Jumping, the hunter with the bottle splashed some whiskey on his hand.

  "Watch it, Grampa," the man threatened. He slurped the spilled liquid off his thumb.

  "Hey, tha' counts ash your helping," another slurred.

  Chiun had neither time nor patience. Plucking a shotgun from the concrete dock, he wrapped a hand around each barrel. He pulled.

  With a pained wrench of metal, the two barrels tore up the length of the weapon.

  The men were only just becoming aware of what was happening when Chiun's hands became sweeping blurs. The hunter with the bottle felt a tightness at his throat. He only realized that his shotgun had been knotted around his neck when he looked down and saw the stock jutting out beneath his chin. A single skeletal finger brushed the trigger.

  "My son, grog-belly," Chiun repeated savagely.

  "There was a guy in there," the hunter panted. "Heading for the stairs. After White." Tense fingers groped the shotgun knot at the back of his neck. "Please. You can have the bottle. Just don't pull the trigger."

  His plea fell on deaf ears. Chiun was already gone.

  None of the hunters could say for certain where the old Asian went, but a few swore they saw a flash of silk kimono hurtling like a fired cannonball into the growing wall of orange flame.

  REMO JERKED HIS HEAD to one side. The gene-altering liquid splattered thickly to the dirty floor. Above him, Judith White growled in anger. Her breath was rancid.

  The crazed geneticist's elbows were bent and jammed against his biceps, pinning him down. There was a surprising amount of weight to her.

  Without his hands free, Remo used the next-best thing. As Judith repositioned her test tube, he bent his knees sharply, stabbing them up into her pelvis. The weight lifted. Judith flew off him, landing in a heap near the stairs.

  Remo completed the motion with his legs, slapping soles to the floor. Upright, he spun to Judith as she was scampering to her feet.

  Black smoke poured up around her. Flames licked at the wooden door casing. Framed in fire, Judith White was a hell-sent demon.

  Judith sensed the fire at her back. It clearly frightened her. Keeping her back to the walls, she moved quickly and cautiously away from the open flames.

  She stepped around Remo, leaving a wide space between them at all times.

  "You should have taken a sip, brown eyes," she said, hurling the near empty test tube away. The frail glass shattered against the brick wall. "You could have been on the ground floor of the new era. You'd be one of the first successors to mankind."

  Remo's gaze was level. "Been there, done that," he said coldly.

  Her green eyes betrayed suspicion. "What do you mean?" she asked.

  "I met your predecessor, Sheila Feinberg, years ago. She tried using me like a scratching post, too." For the first time, uncertainty clouded Judith White's features.

  "What happened?" she asked.

  Remo smiled thinly. "I don't see old Sheila on 'Stupid Pet Tricks,' do you?"

  Judith had continued sidestepping in a wide arc around Remo. She was moving toward the river side of the attic room.

  "She wasn't me," Judith sneered.

  "Yeah," Remo replied. "What happened to her was an accident. You deliberately did this to yourself."

  Remo's eyes strayed over her shoulder. Apparently, the hunters hadn't been satisfied with simply setting fire to the front of the building. They had torched this rear section of the warehouse, as well. Orange flames had just begun to peek up over the sills of the attic windows behind Judith. She didn't seem aware of the flames at her back.

  "Is this the point where you give me the big speech on the immorality of tampering with God's grand scheme?" Judith White said sarcastically.

  "No," Remo said. "You've been a bad kitty. This is the point where I put you to sleep."

  He'd had enough of Judith White's attacks. It was Remo's turn to act.

  She was still several yards away from the rear wall. Remo tensed his legs and sprang.

  He was off the floor in a shot. Whirring like an airborne top, he chewed up distance faster than the animal eye could perceive. Only when his feet struck her solidly in the chest did she realize he'd even moved. By then it was too late.

  Judith was thrown back by the force of the blow. She landed roughly against the wall, one elbow crashing through a filthy windowpane. Flames instantly began licking up through the new hole. Judith jumped back from the fire, shocked. "Tigger doesn't like fire," Remo observed. He was standing before her in the smoke-filled room. Flames erupted along the staircase wall. The wooden structure of the building was igniting like a struck match. Sections of brick wall began falling away, tumbling to the ground four stories below. And through it all, Remo stood. Mocking her. Mocking that which she had become. And in the primal heart of the animal that had once been Dr. Judith White, a rage as ancient as the oldest living beasts exploded in violent fury.

  Careless, unthinking, propelled by hatred, she flew at Remo, face twisted with vicious passion. Hands flew up with blinding ferocity. She was no longer rational. She was a beast, lashing out in hate and fear and rage.

  Remo stood his ground, allowing her to fly to him. When she was close enough, he simply reached out and grabbed hold of one of her mauling raised arms.

  One foot shot into the air, bracing against her sternum. With a horrible twist and wrench, Remo ripped the arm from its socket. It tore free like an overcooked turkey leg.

  Judith shrieked in pain. Shoulder bleeding, she swept the other hand toward him.

  Although Remo could have stopped the blow easily, he never got the chance
.

  All at once, the floor buckled beneath them. The room suddenly listed like a boat caught in a gale. Remo kept his footing, but Judith was thrown from her feet. She fell to the angled floor, rolling down toward the far wall. When she struck the wall, dozens of bricks broke loose and tumbled out into wideopen space.

  She pulled herself awkwardly to her feet. It was difficult to stand. Judith turned back to him.

  Remo realized what had happened. The ground floor had collapsed around the wooden columns that supported this section of the building. This wing of the warehouse was preparing to fall into the river.

  The heat from the fire grew in wicked intensity. Remo ignored it.

  Mindless of all but the creature before him, he began to advance on Judith White.

  The room around him creaked in pain. The entire building seemed on the verge of collapse. Flames erupted in wild bursts through holes along floor and walls.

  "Remo!"

  The voice came from above. Louder than the symphony of noise all around him. When he looked up, he saw the frantic face of the Master of Sinanju peering down through a wide hole in the ceiling. Flames curled around his tufts of smoke-tossed hair. Chiun waved them away.

  "Hurry," Chiun called. He beckoned urgently. The flames were everywhere now. Wafting clouds of smoke partially blocked his view of the old Korean.

  "In a minute," Remo called back.

  "This building is collapsing!" Chiun pleaded. "We must flee! Now!"

  Remo hesitated. He knew Chiun was right. But he also wished to finish off Judith White once and for all. There would be no satisfaction in letting the fire do the work for him.

  She was watching him with her big cat's eyes. A whimper of fear rose from her throat as she hugged her knees close to her chest with her one good arm. Blood poured from the vacant socket of her other shoulder.

  In the end, good sense won out. Remo spun from the mad scientist. He left her cowering against the distant wall. With a leap, he made it up to the hole. Chiun grabbed hold of him. Firm hands dragged him onto the roof.

  The coolness of the air outside shocked him. His body had compensated for the heat of the flames. The room had been like an inferno. Sweat beads evaporated from his skin.