“Dr. Killebrew.”
Hours had passed, though, since their last conversation and Killebrew found himself out of both answers and explanations.
“Killebrew!”
Killebrew realized he’d been dozing again and snapped alert, jarred by Gage’s voice over the speaker.
“Here, sir.”
“You will vacate Level Four immediately.”
“Sir, my readings—”
“—do not jibe at all with the off-site analyses. If Dr. Lyle put you up to this, I want to know now.”
Killebrew stiffened in his wheelchair.
“If you are a party to what she is involved in, I suggest you own up while there is still time.”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“Dr. Lyle is currently a fugitive from the law, Dr. Killebrew. I am asking you to cooperate in helping us uncover what damage she has done. I am told she purposefully contaminated the hot zone in Cambridge because she was involved in an unauthorized experiment.”
Killebrew’s mouth dropped.
“It went wrong and she got caught,” Gage continued. “I am offering you a chance to save yourself, Dr. Killebrew. The proper authorities are standing by. The—”
Killebrew slammed the disconnect button and steadied his hands on the wheels of his chair. This was worse than he or Susan possibly could have imagined. His gaze turned back toward the isolation lab beyond the glass.
They want the organism. That’s what all this must be about … .
There was nothing he could do about the bodies stored in another section of the complex. But he could destroy his own records and conclusions. Make them start from scratch and pray to God that Susan got the truth out before they caught up with her, too.
First the doors. Short out the magnetic seals. Make them cut through steel to reach him. Buy himself a few extra minutes, anyway.
All he needed.
C
hief Silver Cloud gazed into the west, toward the hills and past what the moon could claim from the night. “The Valley of the Dead,” was all he said.
“An ancient burial ground, Blainey,” Wareagle explained, “built on the site of a legendary battle. Sacred and tremendously powerful.”
“It has been a last line of defense for our people for centuries,” the old chief picked up. “It has advantages too great for any opponent to overcome. We are prepared for this. Since times long forgotten, we have been prepared.”
“If battle does come, the landscape of the valley will give us what we need,” added Johnny. Some of the confidence drained from his face. “But there’s one catch, Blainey, and you’re not going to like it … .”
“Y
ou want the duty?” Darkfeather asked Susan.
“My pleasure,” Susan replied, hoping it meant he would leave her to start treating Josh on her own.
“Okay here’s how it goes. In two hours, you need to apply a fresh coating of the bark over the initial one.” He placed the black pan containing the hardened paste between the two of them. “Reheat this until it softens and begins to bubble again. Clear?”
Susan nodded.
“You don’t need to put on as much this time and you don’t have to wipe the original layer off. It’ll look different smeared atop that layer instead of on flesh, but don’t worry. It’s strong enough to permeate right through. Clear?”
She made herself nod again.
“Check his vitals every twenty minutes and come get me if you think there’s a problem.”
Darkfeather rebundled the contents of his makeshift rucksack, rose and slid through the break in the tepee. Susan had her hand on the medical bag he had left behind when the sound of his voice made her stop short of reaching inside.
“It isn’t medicine or even the bark that will help him now, Doctor,” Darkfeather said, only his face visible inside the tepee. “Your spirit is close with the cub’s. Alone the two will join and he will feed off your strength.
That’s why I’m leaving you alone with him. You have plenty of strength to spare.”
Susan moved her hand away from his medical bag.
“S
acred land,” Chief Silver Cloud elaborated for Johnny, “must not be defiled.”
“You’re telling me we can’t kill any of them, right?” Blaine asked, even though the answer was clear.
“Not if we expect the spirits who call the land home to aid us, Blainey,” said Wareagle. “Nor can we use any weapons not available to the tribe who fought the original battle.”
“Bad guys won’t be up on the rule changes.”
“Our advantage.”
“They’re going to bring plenty of firepower.”
“That is all the better,” broke in Chief Silver Cloud. “In the battle of legend, ten braves held off five hundred of the enemy long enough for the rest of the tribe to flee.”
“That how many we’re going to have with us?”
“We will have eight, Blainey. The two of us makes ten.”
“All you will need, just as it was all that was needed in times before,” added Silver Cloud.
“What about the rest of the village?” Blaine asked the old chief.
“They are my responsibility. It will be now as it was then.”
“You’re prepared.”
“Part of surviving the present is reliving the past.”
“Be nice if there was a future for us, too, after today.”
J
oshua Wolfe came around slowly. The first thing he remembered was trying to open his eyes. In that instant all of his other motor skills seemed to shut down. He could not feel his hands or feet, much less make them move. It felt like all his limbs were asleep at once. He tried to speak but his lips wouldn’t budge either, and his tongue felt bloated and swollen, his mouth like someone had taken sandpaper to its inside.
“Josh? … Come on, Josh. Wake up. You can do it, I know you can.” A familiar voice, soothing and warm. He felt pressure on one of his hands, recognized it was someone squeezing. He made himself squeeze back, trying to summon the effort. When at last he managed to open his eyes he could make out the shape of Susan Lyle hovering over him, taking his other hand in hers now.
“Can you hear me? Do you know who I am?”
He muttered her name and watched the tears brimming in her eyes as the life drained back into him like water filling a glass.
“Where am I?” he managed, turning his head to look about.
“An Indian reservation.”
“What?”
“Long story.”
“Doesn’t feel like I’m going anywhere anytime soon.”
He felt Susan’s arms slide around him and draw him close. Josh feebly returned her embrace, not wanting to let go.
“You saved my life,” she said when they finally parted. “You saved my life.”
“Least I could do,” he managed in a scratchy voice. “You’re the only one who’s tried to help me since Harry Lime.”
“There’s someone else now.”
“H
arry Lime’s friend,” Susan said after Josh had managed to sit up, crossing his legs gingerly before him. “He saved both of us back there at Group Six.”
“Where is he?”
“Outside. I can get him.”
“No, not yet. I wanna just … sit here for a while.” Josh slid closer to the fire, seeming to notice the paste painted onto his exposed chest for the first time. “I’ve read about stuff like this. What is it, do you know?”
“Some kind of bark.”
Josh sniffed at a portion on his arm. “Strong.”
“So long as it worked.”
“Just like CLAIR,” Josh said.
H
e stared at the fire for what seemed like a long time before speaking again. “I did a lot of thinking while I was inside Group Six. It’s what I do best, you know—think. I don’t know where it all comes from. I don’t know how I do it. At least I didn’t used to. Now I know about Operation Offspring. I know my parents were a pair of test tubes Dr. Haslanger put together. He could even
be
my father. I do take after him. We both have … ghosts. And we’re both murderers.”
“That’s not tr—”
“Yes, it is. And we both do what we do in the name of science and progress. Motivations don’t really matter, only results.” Josh wrapped his arms around himself, shivering slightly. “I wanted to make things better. I wanted to make a difference. I wanted people to … like me. Harry did and he’s dead. I know that now; I guess I did all along. You did and you were almost killed. McCracken might but if he couldn’t save Harry, why should I think he can save me?”
“Because it’s what he does and he’s good at it.”
“Just like I’m good at what I do. That’s why I let them catch me and bring me to Group Six. I needed a way to take care of myself, to keep them off me for good, hold them back. I would have told you about it as soon as we were out, but then …” He took a deep breath. “Nobody can save me, except me, and that’s just what I’m going to do.”
“Sentence yourself to a life alone with only your obsession for company? It’ll follow you everywhere, determine everything. Believe me, I know.”
“How?”
“I’ve been there. I
am
there.”
“Not where I am, not even close. If you’ve got a home to go back to, you’ve got a choice. I don’t have either anymore. Before Cambridge I still had a chance, but afterwards—no way. I can’t own up to what I did because it would just set more Group Six types after me. So what do I do? Go back to Fuchs and hide at Group Six, help him and Haslanger kill more people? I think you get my point. See, you were right about the existence of that second vial of CLAIR. I hid it in the Magic Kingdom where nobody will ever be able to find it except me.”
Josh felt suddenly for the pocket of his jeans and relaxed when he found the vial of clear liquid he’d produced at Group Six bulging out from the fabric. “Thing is, it all comes back to that first poem I wrote that you liked so much.”
“‘The Fires of Midnight.’”
“I finally understand what the fires are and what they’re for. And you know what else?”
“No.”
“Midnight’s coming anytime I want.”
M
cCracken turned when he heard the footsteps emerging from the tepee, expecting to see Susan Lyle instead of the figure of Joshua Wolfe stumbling almost drunkenly toward him.
“I guess I should thank you,” he said, stopping a cold five feet away.
“Don’t bother.”
“I know who you are. Harry showed me pictures all the time. He said you were the best friend he ever had. That’s why you came to Group Six, wasn’t it? You were looking for the ones who killed him.”
“Yes.”
Tears started running down Josh’s cheeks and he brushed them aside. “Why’d they do it? Harry of all people … He’d never hurt anyone.”
“They thought he could hurt them, I guess. Harry … couldn’t handle being alone. When he was with people he was okay. Like when he was part of the team during the war, or when he was with you. But after you left he lost touch a little. Ended up thinking you’d been stolen from him. He came to me for help. Wanted me to find you. Told me you were his son and that you’d been kidnapped.”
“When did he come to you?”
“Monday. In Cuba.”
“Cuba?”
“I was working down there. Harry pulled me out like he did maybe a hundred times before, lots of years ago.”
“In Vietnam.”
“Right.”
“He talked about it a lot. Used to tell me how much he missed it. Said it was the only time he was really happy.”
“I don’t know, I think he was pretty happy when you were around.” If that made Josh feel better, he didn’t show it. “Because he was able to pretend it was real.”
“Wasn’t it?”
“It … wasn’t supposed to be.”
“Wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess so. He took me fishing. We did things.” Josh paused.
“Harry used to talk about you a lot, too. Told me stories. He said you were the toughest guy he ever knew.”
“Second toughest; he knew Johnny, too. He tell you I ask a lot of questions?”
“No.”
“Here’s one for you: had you ever heard of our friend Dr. Haslanger before you ended up at Group Six?”
“Not by name. I knew somebody was in charge of what was going on, but I never really cared who.”
“In charge of what?”
“Me, I guess. The way they moved me around, placed me in special schools and kept changing so nobody would take special notice.” The boy’s expression changed. “Funny thing is, at Group Six they denied anything to do with it.”
“Haslanger denied it?”
Josh nodded. “But if it wasn’t him, then who … I mean, somebody had to be behind the Handlers.”
“Handlers?”
“That’s what I called the men who were always around, watching, checking up. Making arrangements. I never asked their names and their faces changed all the time. I didn’t really care. Harry and I ever needed anything, they took care of it.” The boy smiled thinly. “But we always had fun sneaking away from them.”
“Like when you went fishing.”
“I never got a damn thing.”
“Did Harry?”
“Nope. It was still fun.” Almost a laugh. “Once we stopped at a fish market on the way home. A couple carloads of Handlers were waiting for us, and Harry plopped the fish straight in the lead one’s lap.” Josh sighed. “You were Harry’s best friend.”
“That means a lot to me.”
“It would mean a lot to him that you’re doing this, that you came after the people who …” Josh lost the words and let them go, choosing new
ones. “Revenge, right? That’s why you were going after Haslanger.”
“Sometimes, kid, it’s the only thing we have left.”
“Does it make you feel better?”
“Good question. I’m not sure ‘better’ is the right word. Maybe ‘worthy’ is more like it. You’ve got to stand up for the people who have stood up for you. Without Harry, I would’ve been dead a dozen times over. I owed him, and when you come right down to it, sometimes that’s what the closest relationships are based on—debt.”
“Would you have killed Haslanger?
Will
you?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“But you found him. You found him through me. Is it true what Colonel Fuchs said? Is it true Haslanger created me just like he created the
thing
that tried to kill Susan?”
“You saved her life.”
“You’re avoiding my question.”
“Not my style. I just wanted you to know what you did counts for something.”
“Then answer my question.”
“Yes.”
Josh seemed surprised by Blaine’s honesty. “Most people would have qualified their answer.”
“Not my style, either.”
“He doesn’t sleep, you know.”
“Who?”
“Haslanger. He doesn’t sleep, hasn’t for a couple of years now ever since it almost killed him. He told me he couldn’t handle the ghosts anymore. He doesn’t sleep because he knows the next time he does that’s when they’ll get him and he’ll never wake up. I think I’m getting to be the same way. The whole time I was out after the shock hit me, I didn’t dream. But I know the nightmares will start again anytime I nod off now.”