The Tenth Legion (Book 6, Progeny of Evolution) (33 page)

After two
hours, discouragement set in. By her estimate, she’d travelled four
to six miles without a sign of an exit. She had one hour before she
had to turn back to avoid discovery of her absence, which would
bring more suffering to the remaining hybrids and staff. “We must
do as the Chairman asked,” a tiny, detached voice said.

Lorna alerted.
“But we risk discovery by staying here,” another faint voice
replied.

The path ahead
inclined to a pile of rocks.

One way or the
other, this is the end of the road.

Another minute
of tense listening in the dark silence passed. Then someone said
from the other side of the stones. “We’ll stay, and that’s
final.”

With lycan
fervor, Lorna pulled the rocks aside. The first opening to the
surface admitted silent moonlight. Then, a voice demanded. “Who
goes there?”

After
returning to human form, she said, “Lorna Winters. Help me get this
opened.”

“Quickly,”
commanded someone. “It’s Chairman White’s mate.” With the
announcement, a dozen pairs of hands applied themselves to the
task.

Soon, Lorna
stepped into the open, finding herself at a small cove where one of
the corporation launches was tied up. The crew rushed by to
complete clearing the entrance, while the launch captain approached
with a blanket to cover her nakedness.

“Only
yesterday, we learned about the killings,” he said.

“Yes,” Lorna
answered somberly. “Many good lives were lost.” She surveyed the
scene. Camouflage netting hid the launch along with the dock. From
the sea they blended with the jungle. “Do you have contact with
Ed—the Chairman?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Pulling the
blanket tighter, she noted the approach of moonset. “I have to
return or risk being missed,” she said. “Send someone to find him
right away. Tell him I was here and to meet me tomorrow, just after
dark. He needs to bring his followers. I’ve found a way into the
mansion, and I have a plan.”

* * * *

The tedium of
an ever-present female guard who followed her even to the bathroom
maddened Lorna, made the day seem endless. She had a lot to do. In
the afternoon, she took a nap, knowing a long night was ahead. The
dour sentry took position outside her door.

When she
awoke, darkness had nearly arrived. Having to pee again, she
cracked open the door to Ed’s office. They’d changed the guard. In
the hallway, another female dozed while sitting in the wooden
straight-backed chair. In the course of exploring, Lorna had
learned Ed’s bedroom possessed a panel on the back wall of the
closet giving direct access to the passageway she needed to travel.
Taking care to avoid the noise of the lock bolt seating, Lorna
closed the door, stepped into the closet, and headed on her
way.

Following the
markers from the night before, the trip took less than two hours.
At her arrival, dozens of figures stopped their aimless milling
around to face her. Recognizing the launch captain, she asked. “Is
he here?”

“They all
are,” he answered. “Follow me.”

Leading her
across a narrow gangway and down a few steps to the cabin of the
launch, she paused to embrace Donatello on her way below decks. Ed
sat on a padded bench built into the bulkhead. In front of him
spread a café-sized steel table. Cynthia, Toby, and three
lieutenants crowded the small compartment. Upon seeing her, Ed
jumped to his feet. In his enthusiasm, he forgot the low overhead.
His crown struck with a thud that sat him right back down. Cynthia
smothered a chuckle.

“Oh, poor
dear.” Lorna rushed to him. Embracing his shoulders, she kissed the
bruised spot.

After a
moment’s ministrations, Lorna spread the rolled-up papers on the
table.

“What’s this?”
he asked at length, examining the plans.

“The network
of utility passages for your house. I drew in the path to
here.”

“What is this
writing? Are these names?”

“That’s part
of the reason why I needed another night. I listed the occupant of
each bedroom.”

“Good,”
Cynthia said. “We can kill them in their beds. They won’t have any
leaders.” Her suggestion met with growls of support from the
others.

“I had
something a little different in mind,” Lorna said. “If you bring
everyone, we can retake the mansion, plus take the general and the
senior officers hostage.”

Ed smiled in
understanding. “They’ll be like a headless serpent.”

“Exactly,”
Lorna said.

“Then there’s
no time to waste.” He rose, this time stooping to avoid the
overhead. At Lorna’s movement to join them, Ed touched her
shoulder. “No. You’re in no condition to go with us.”

Lorna whipped
around to face him. “This pregnant girl got you to the dance.” Her
eyes burned with determination. “Try not to fall behind.”

Ed smiled,
shaking his head. “How can I argue? Lead on, my love.”

For two
reasons, they chose to enter the mansion through Cynthia’s room. No
sentry guarded the door, and the general’s suite was three rooms
away. With the heavy sound of tense breathing from over two hundred
of The Others behind her, Lorna slid back the panel, stepping into
the closet.

The colonel
was not asleep. The unmistakable sounds and scents of human
lovemaking filled the room. Lorna eased the closet door open. Lit
up by the moonlight like a white enameled wind-up toy, the
colonel’s heart-shaped buttocks undulated on the dark shaft of the
male pinned beneath her. They had to act fast. If the scents of sex
worked their way down the line of those following, Lorna worried
one of the young lycan males would be overcome and morph, bursting
into a howl. Out the window would go any element of surprise.

“Ed,” she
whispered. “You and I have to take them. Follow me, and close the
panel behind you.”

With her mate
close behind, she opened the closet door and morphed. In an
instant, they fell upon them. The colonel had enough time to turn
her face halfway around in response to the noise. An imperious
expression of outrage turned to terror when she realized monsters
do live in closets. A single, dark eye above a prominent cheekbone
gleamed at Lorna. Downturned lips painted purple parted to cry out.
Lorna cut off the colonel’s brief scream in mid-note by breaking
her neck.

The male was
too wrapped up in an orgasm to notice much of anything until Ed
killed him with a skull-crushing blow.

“Wash the
bodies in the shower. The water should take away most of the scent
so the boys can stay focused on the job at hand,” Lorna said.

Ed grunted as
he hefted the female’s corpse into position under one arm. With the
male in the crook of his other arm, he carried them into the
bathroom. Lorna remembered seeing two white, moonlit butts locked
in Ed’s powerful grip before he closed the door. A second later,
the light came on, making a bright line across the bottom of the
doorway. When the shower started, Lorna sprayed some of Cynthia’s
perfume around to mask the lingering traces of passion.

Ten minutes
later, the leadership gathered for a council of war. Lorna spread
the mansion floor plans on the carpet. “In this wing, and the one
west of us, are all the officers above the rank of major.”

“Where’s Uncle
Bobby?” Cynthia wanted to know.

“Time enough
later for settling scores. No one wants to more than I,” Ed
announced. “But let’s take back our home, first.”

Within an
hour, the command structure of the East Mexican force sat in the
main dining room, tied to the velvet-covered chairs. Taken by
surprise no one had fired a shot. The general sat erect in his
underwear, crossing a pair of spindly, hirsute legs almost
daintily. He wore the smug expression of someone who expected to be
bailed out at any moment.

Ed stood in
front of him, giving him a cold, level stare. “My friend,” he said
calmly. “You’ll get dressed and accompany my son and niece to tell
your men to prepare to leave the island.”

“Why should
I?” he answered. “I have three thousand to your two hundred.”

“That might
be,” Lorna interjected. “But as we speak, Brazil is being appraised
of the latest developments here. If they weren’t inclined to help
before, they will now. You have no senior leadership. Without
coordination, even a small Brazilian force could beat them, but we
both know Brazil does nothing small. What will your superiors say
to the loss of three thousand men in addition to a quarter of your
country’s navy?”

“Even if there
is no help, your men will be a leaderless mob because none of you
will leave this house alive unless you agree to the terms we
offer.” Ed added.

As the logic
of the argument sunk in, confidence drained from the general’s
face. He shrugged, less confident than before. “I will dress.”

The last one
they found was Bobby. Dressed in a servant’s uniform in order to
pass as a member of the staff, he’d planned to escape on the plane
bringing Ethan. For two days, he hid in servant bunking until
someone in the group recognized him on the day his brother arrived.
Donatello led three vampires, who slapped on hand and leg cuffs,
trotting him up to Ed’s reclaimed office.

Ed stood to
his full morphed height in front of Bobby, demanding, “What do you
have to say for yourself? Give us a reason why you shouldn’t be
killed.” When Bobby hesitated, Ed added, “Everyone’s
listening.”

Bobby surveyed
the room. Besides Lorna and Ed, his brothers and Thomas were
present. Ed’s morph, combined with the array of hostile relatives,
didn’t intimidate him. “This wasn’t all my doing. Things got out of
control, and I couldn’t get out.” Sensing a gain of leverage, he
pressed the advantage. “Father, I did what I had to.”

“You didn’t,
‘have to’ kill twenty-five of our people,” Lorna said. “Poor Ulbert
loved you like a son. You let him and Valeria die like dogs in the
streets.”

“Wait, Father,
you have it all wrong,” Bobby countered. “The Mexicans wanted some
measure of payback for the attack on the officer’s barracks. That
was the least I could offer them.”

Ed weighed the
explanation. Lorna worried he might be softening. Then Thomas
slapped a cell phone on Ed’s desk top. “If you want to hear his
exact words,” the small man said. “They’re all here. You may judge
for yourself.”

He played a
recording of the scene in the hallway. Everyone winced at the sound
of Valeria’s horrified reaction when Bobby ordered the selection to
begin with her. When the recording ran out, Ed’s stare locked on
Bobby. “Well?”

Bobby opened
his mouth, but nothing came out. For once, he had nothing to
say.

“Ethan, Toby,
I want you to come with me. Bring your brother. We’ll pick up
Cynthia along the way.”

The brothers
smiled, lifting a confused Bobby off his feet. Lorna got up to
accompany them, but Thomas shook his head, almost imperceptibly.
“No,” he said quietly. “It’s a matter of blood they must finish
among themselves.”

The small
procession passed Lorna, taking Bobby through the Operations
Center. Employees paused at their passing. Bobby’s protests became
louder and more frantic. Apparently, he realized something had been
decided and it wasn’t going to be good. At Ed’s signal, Cynthia
joined them. The five of them drove into the jungle in an open top
touring vehicle. Her glossy black hair trailed in the breeze like
Death’s pennant. An hour later, the three vampires returned with
their lycan relative.

No one talked
about what happened.

Cynthia seemed
to emerge a different person. A few weeks before, the persona of
corporate window dressing would’ve sickened at the prospect of
executing anyone, much less a relative.

Lorna decided
the process that began with the plague concluded the night Bobby
got his punishment. In addition, living as a guerrilla and
participation in a blooding after each raid must’ve helped the
change along. Later, she confided to Lorna they’d thrown Bobby from
a cliff. She described the incident in the manner of eliminating a
minor household pest. The new Cynthia reported he screamed all the
way to the bottom.

If the East
Mexicans had second thoughts about leaving the island, the arrival
of a Brazilian force of twelve thousand removed all doubt. Lorna
helped Ed negotiate a favorable deal with the Brazilian military
for the use of island facilities.

“Looks like
until we get to Mars, it’ll be Orlando or Rocket city for us.” Ed’s
comment met no resistance. “Will you miss this place?” he asked
Lorna. They stood on a balcony under a night sky surrounded by
relatives.

“Only our
little room and furniture.”

“You’re in
luck. Our agreement with Brazil doesn’t include furnishings and
personal items.”

Ethan chimed
in. “Well I’ll miss this place.”

Cynthia eased
beside him. She gestured, encompassing the cosmos overhead with the
sweep of a long, elegant arm. “Our future is there now. What waits
for us will make everything we experienced so far seem a bore. Do
you agree, Uncle Ed?”

Ed nodded.
“One thing certain, things will be different.” He paused with the
Chairman’s expression of practicality designed to bring things back
to the ground. “Relocating our community and all the humans we can
becomes the new priority. The revenue from the deal with Brazil
will help fund the project.”

“I’ll still
miss it,” Ethan said.

So, the island
passed from their lives. Costa Rica protested Brazil’s occupation
of the island in the strongest terms with the United Nations
Security Council. After several weeks’ worth of debate, the issue
deadlocked in final vote.

Nobody
cared.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

S
ix months
later, Lorna stood beside Ed on the threshold of their new house in
Rocket City. Lorna entwined him while breathing the odors of new
paint, poured masonry, and fresh cut wood—the smells of new
construction. “It’s beautiful,” she said, snuggling
close.