The Portal ~ Large Print (14 page)

D
o you understand
what I’m saying?” The soldier grabbed Vivian’s neck with a rough hand. He pressed her head to the floor and leaned close to her ear. “You will die unless you give me the code.”

“You won’t murder my son.” She struggled to get free, but her hands were still tied to the chair behind her back.

“Mr. Boothe,” Stromsky said. “I assure you that this won’t do. Now kindly step aside and let me finish my work.”

“There isn’t time,” Boothe said. “The police will be here soon.”

“We’re all over the scanner.” Another soldier moved close. With her cheekbone crushed against the hardwood floor, she could only see his scuffed boots, caked in mud. “The locals are on their way.”

“You’ve really screwed this one to hell, old man,” Boothe said. “Blow the door.”

Were they going to use explosives? Leon had said that the room was just a deterrent. Visions of Cody wandering through the smoke, deafened from the blast filled her mind.

“Wait,” she said, desperate for any extra time. “I’ll open it.”

“The code,” Boothe said. “Now.”

“Four…seventeen…nineteen—”

“The panel is alpha numeric.” Someone cut her off. “She’s lying.”

“No, wait.” She’d hoped to buy at least a minute. “Please. I just have to
see
the keypad.”

“Freeze,” another deep voice called out. “Don’t fucking move.”

For an eternity, voices shouted in every direction. With the floorboard vibrating against her ear, it sounded like an army was marching.

In her peripheral view, she saw movement. She never thought she’d be so happy to see Detective Torres. He took cover behind a grandfather clock.

Boothe cut her hands free. As he yanked her between himself and the police, a pock-faced soldier grabbed Erika. Dozens of police officers in riot gear stormed the room. All seemed to be aiming at Vivian’s head. She looked around. Stromsky was nowhere to be seen. In the confusion, the bastard had managed to slip away.

“Stay back,” Boothe shouted at the cops. He signaled with his hand. The other soldiers moved into formation. Two held Erika and Vivian forward as shields, while the remaining two ducked low behind. All of them aimed their laser-scoped rifles at the cops. “Get back now. Or these two die.”

“It doesn’t have to go down like this,” Torres said.

As the police closed in, Erika made eye contact. Afraid to touch her hand, Vivian reached out and held her wrist.

“Clear a path.” Boothe shoved Vivian forward. He held the barrel to her temple. “You have five seconds.”

The power shut off again. Somehow, Stromsky must’ve made it down to the cellar. Was he trying to escape? Or was he trying to even his odds of killing everyone. Flashlights pierced the darkness, blinding her.

A muffled rhythm grew louder. She looked up just as a spotlight beamed down through the glass ceiling. A helicopter swung close.

“Four,” Boothe shouted. “Three.”

“Nobody has to get hurt today,” Torres shouted. “Please.”

“Two.”

To her right, a piston wheezed. Somebody was opening the panic room doors. Cody would be exposed.

For a moment, everyone seemed to forget that their weapons were pointed at each other. They stared as Leon crawled into the spotlight on his elbows. His face was mangled. Where was Jarod? Had he died? And what about Cody? She tried to pull away to find him. Boothe yanked on her hair and snapped her head back.

“Close the doors,” Vivian shouted at Leon. “It’s not safe.”

He stopped just as Jarod staggered from the darkness. All flashlights moved to him as he fell against the doorjamb. His back spasmed, shoving his chest forward. All of his muscles twitched violently. Two curved bone spikes, six inches long, sprouted from the backs of his elbows. It was too late. He was changing.

“Stop him,” Vivian shouted at the police.

Jarod’s jaw unhinged, ripping his cheeks to his ears. Jagged bone shards punched through his gums and shoved his bloodied teeth onto the floor in front of him. Immediately, he began clinking his new incisors together.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” someone behind her said.

“You’re here to kill him,” Vivian yelled at Boothe. “Do it.”

“If we open fire,” he said. “They will, too.”

“Making deals with my life.” Jarod looked down at Leon. Vivian stared in horror as he stepped on Leon’s back, latched finger hooks around his neck, and tore his head free. A segment of spine and muscle tissue, still connected to the head, glistened in the flashlight beams. Oh God. Leon’s lips still moved.

“Dammit,” Vivian shouted. “He’s going to kill us.”

“Yes.” Jarod’s head snapped to the side. He stared directly at her with reflective eyes of mercury. “But don’t worry, butterfly. I’ve got something special planned for you.”

Gunfire erupted. He turned to climb the bookcase. The police and the mercenaries seemed forget about the standoff. They all began shooting at the monster.

As Jarod scaled the walls, his body writhed side-to-side. Bullets tore chunks from his flesh, but he kept climbing, until he disappeared into pitchy darkness.

Then came the screams.

V
ivian ducked the
flashlight beams that swept every direction. She pulled Erika behind an overturned table. The wrought iron barely provided any cover from the storm of machine gun fire all around.

“I have to get Cody,” she said

“I’m fine.” Erika scooted back on the floor and leaned against the overturned desk.

Vivian darted for the doors. Boothe stepped back into her path, firing at the ceiling. She bounced off his body and slammed to the floor.

He swung his weapon around and aimed at her head. For a second, he seemed to consider what to do.

Above, the police helicopter veered back over the glass ceiling. He covered his eyes from the spotlight. Seizing the moment, she stood and raced around him through the vault doors. More gunfire behind. Was he shooting at her? Glancing back, she found that he’d turned his attention back to Jarod.

Inside, Cody slept on the couch where she’d left him. His shallow breaths sounded like gasps for air. She ran to his side, knelt, and kissed his sweaty forehead. He was burning up in the reddish glow of the room’s running lights.

“Baby.” She shook him gently to make sure he wasn’t hurt. “I’m here.”

“Mary, Mary, quite contrary.” His eyes shot open, exposing only the white. “How does your garden grow?”

She felt sick. Though he couldn’t pronounce most of the words, she knew the nursery rhyme about Mary Tudor. Bloody Mary.

“It’s okay, sweetie.” She picked up his limp body. “Mommy will fix it.”

Now, she knew more than ever—whatever had transformed Jarod was changing Cody, too. But into what? Was it genetic? It didn’t matter. No doctor or scientist could fix the spikes growing from Jarod’s body. Nor could they explain Mister Vincent. Cody needed a priest. An exorcism. Something.

She carried him to the door.

“Stay back,” a man cried out. Maybe thirty feet away, his scream ended in a choking sound. Less than five minutes had passed, but the gunfire had grown sparse. Despite their armor, weapons, and numbers, the LAPD were losing to Jarod. If she didn’t leave now, they wouldn’t be able to.

She clutched Cody and ran, taking the long way down a bookshelf aisle to avoid gunfire. Around the corner, she found Erika still leaned against the desk.

“Is he hurt?” she asked.

“He’s sleeping.” Vivian prayed she wouldn’t hear his whispered chants. At least his eyes were closed now. “The keys to Jarod’s garage are in the kitchen. Can you make it?”

“I’m ready.” Erika’s knees wobbled as she stood.

Keeping along the outside walls of the library, they began moving to the exit. Then Vivian noticed the quiet. No one was shooting anymore. Or screaming.

They exited the library into the estate’s main corridor. She looked down and gagged. Several discarded flashlights shined skewed beams of light across the blood-drenched stone tile. Torn limbs and discarded weapons littered the room, but the police officer’s bodies were nowhere to be seen.

“We’re not going to make it out of here,” Erika said.

“Don’t say that.” Vivian steadied her footing on the slippery floor. “Are you able to carry Cody?”

Using her good arm, Erika took him from her. Vivian tried not to look at the gristled elbow socket as she stepped on a forearm and pried a machine gun from its grip. She hung the strap over her neck. The attached flashlight aimed where the gun did. Down the hallway, police lights flashed through the row of arched stone windows. No sirens.

“Silver bells and cockleshells,” Cody said.

“You’re so brave,” Erika said quietly. “My tough little man.”

“When we get to the front door,” Vivian whispered. “I need you to get Cody to safety.”

“Jarod just killed all of those men. What do you think you’re gonna do?”

“I’m not trying to stop him, but I can’t go to the police yet.” They didn’t have time to argue. If the cops decided to lock her up, it might be too late to save Cody from whatever was inside of him. “Get him outside the estate. I’ll find you later tonight.”

“I won’t leave you.” Erika shook her head.

“And I won’t let you leave,” Jarod said from above.

“Go,” Vivian shouted. “Don’t let him get Cody.”

Something splashed the flashlight lens. Aiming the gun up, she gasped. Ten feet above her head, an officer’s corpse dangled by his feet from the chandelier. Blood dripped down his outstretched arms. As he swayed, shadows moved behind him. At least two other dead bodies had also been fastened in a row.

To her left, she heard something. Jarod’s body contorted in jerky movements as he crawled across the wall. She fired. The weapon’s recoil kicked a trail of bullets across his body, and up an oil painting. Looking back, she saw Erika run out the front door.

“It looks like we’re finally alone.” He climbed down to the ground and stood. Police lights pulsed over his body as he passed in front of a window. He looked outside. “They won’t make it far.”

“I won’t let you take my son.” She tried to take his attention from Cody. “Do you hear me, limp dick?”

“He’s not for me.” Jarod’s disfigured jaw formed a permanent grin. “I can’t wait to see the look on your face when it happens to him.”

“He’s not like you. He’ll never be like you.”

“No.” His shout vibrated her chest. “He’ll never be me.”

He leapt forward, and she fired. The bullet tore away a chunk of his skull. And then he was on her. She struggled to fight him, but he sank his claws into her shoulder. Her arm felt like it was being torn off.

“You thought you were so fucking smart hiding from me.” His breath made her gag. “Didn’t you?”

“Get off—” She could barely talk. “Me.”

“Didn’t you?” He pulled her head to the side and hissed. “He’s coming soon. It’s going to burn. They’re all going to scream.”

He twisted his claws in her shoulder and bit down on her neck. Searing pain branched through her body. Please God, just let Erika get away.

Then he pulled off her and howled in apparent pain. She could barely turn her head.

“She’s mine,” Jarod shouted at no one.

Mister Vincent was here. She knew it. And from the conversation, it sounded like he still wanted her alive. But why? For Cody’s sake? It had to be.

“I’ll do anything.” She choked out the words. “Just don’t let him hurt my son.”

More gunfire erupted, punching Jarod’s body. A blur of legs ran past her. Someone helped her to her feet. Immediately, she tried to run after Cody and Erika, but she stumbled.

“Vivian,” a voice said. She looked up to find Detective Torres. Somehow, he’d survived. “It’s okay.”

“Stop him,” she told him. “He’s going after Cody.”

“Our backup just arrived,” Torres said. “He’s a dead man.”

“You don’t understand,” she said. Glass shattered down the hallway. She pulled away from Torres and stumbled to the front door. “You’re too late. He can’t be killed now.”