Vapor (29 page)

“I see the vehicles,” Carrie whispered. “But no guards.”

Graham leaned out from behind the tree. The hiding spot afforded them a good view of the station and the runway.

Shielding his one good eye, Graham looked at the loading bay. The large doors were wide open. The interior was pitch black, a near perfect contrast to the blinding spotlights. Numerous SUVs and trucks sat next to the loading bay. Their engines and headlights had been turned off.

Twisting his hips, he looked toward the runway. Spotlights danced on the pavement, illuminating a strange, bulky object. “I think that’s a body,” he said. “Keep low and follow me.”

Gun in hand, Graham slipped out from behind the tree. He hurried to the research station and worked his way to the hangar side of it. A quick look confirmed the large gate was closed.

He darted onto the runway. After a short jog, he pulled up and inhaled a long, slow breath. Bodies, maybe a dozen of them, lay scattered up and down the edges of the pavement. They looked a bit like angels, thanks to the glare of the spotlights. But their clenched jaws and blood-splattered clothes ruined the illusion.

Most of the corpses were far away from him. But one was relatively close. He crept to it. It belonged to a young man, no more than thirty years old. The man’s face was freshly-shaven and his skin was unwrinkled. He wore black clothes and black boots. Black greasepaint was smeared across parts of his visage.

“Severed limbs and carved-up bodies.” Carrie winced. “This is definitely the Grueler’s work.”

“Simona said something about soldiers.” Graham exhaled. “Looks like these ones didn’t make it.”

Carrie looked around. “The runway is lined with stones. She must’ve disabled the electric fences here too.”

“And probably put them back up again once the Grueler was done.” Graham felt the earth rumble beneath him. Furrowing his brow, he recalled the flooding tunnels. “Okay, let’s get—”

“Freeze.”

Graham whirled around. A man stood about ten feet away, outside the range of spotlights and shrouded by blowing dust. He was big and powerfully built. A pistol was clutched in one of his hands.

“Drop the gun.” The man aimed the pistol at Graham’s face. “Or die.”

“You’re dressed like him.” Still holding his pistol, Graham nodded at the corpse. “One of yours?”

The man’s gun didn’t waver. “Names?”

“Carrie Cooper.”

“Dutch Graham.”

“Dutch Graham?” He cocked his head. “I used to read about a guy named Dutch Graham when I was a kid. He was this crazy explorer. Always getting in and out of trouble.”

Graham chuckled.

“It’s really you?” The man stepped forward. His eyes scanned Graham from head to toe. “It
is
you. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Getting into trouble.”

The man exhaled. Then he holstered his gun.

“Who are you?” Carrie asked.

“Special Agent Ed Hooper,” he replied. “I’m with the Secret Service.”

“Secret Service?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Are you here to shut down Eco-Trek?”

“That was the plan.” Hooper’s gaze flitted to the corpses. “Unfortunately, we weren’t prepared for a robotic guard dog.”

“Yeah, neither were we.” Graham took a deep breath. “Did anyone else make it?”

“Nope. Just me.” He exhaled. “That thing almost got me, too. All of a sudden, it just retreated.”

“We could use your help.”

Hooper arched an eyebrow.

“We don’t have much time. But Simona Wolcott is planning to use her drones to kill a lot of people. We’re going to stop her.”

“Just the two of you?”

“There are two others.” Graham’s jaw hardened as he recalled the Grueler chasing his friends. “They’re coming.”

Hooper stared at Graham and Carrie for a moment. “What’s the plan?”

“We’re going to sneak into Simona’s office and access her computer. Hopefully, we can divert her planes.”

He nodded. “Lead the way.”

Getting low, Carrie made a beeline back to the research station. Hooper and Graham followed at a short distance. They ran around the building, stopping just outside the loading bay.

The doors were open. Graham squinted, trying to see into the interior. But the darkness, combined with the exterior spotlights, thwarted his efforts.

They ran up a ramp and slid inside the building. Faint voices and the sounds of machinery rang out, coming from the hangar’s direction.

Carrie led them through a few corridors and then into a dark stairwell. As he ascended the steps, sweat beaded up on Graham’s hands. His heart pounded against his chest. His trigger finger twitched and twitched again.

At the top of the stairs, they paused. Hooper did a quick check and confirmed the floor was clear. Evidently, Eco-Trek’s entire staff was in the hangar preparing for the upcoming flights.

They crept down a familiar hallway, crossed Simona’s reception area, and entered her office. While Hooper kept an eye on the door, Graham hurried to the desk. Within seconds, he was hunched at the waist, his fingers flying across the keyboard, punching keys in endless patterns.

Carrie watched him for a few minutes. Finally, she cleared her throat. “How long will this take?”

“Five minutes? Five hours?” Graham shrugged. “How the hell should I know?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a computer expert?”

“I’m the best Salvage Force has to offer.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

He gave her a grim smile. “There are only three of us.”

Even as Graham worked, he doubted his efforts. His odds of diverting the drones were incredibly low. He stood a better chance of disabling the model. But that would only have a temporary impact. Eventually, Simona would fix it. The planes would head for the sky.

The high-tech version of the Black Death would commence.

“Okay,” he said a few minutes later. “I’m in.”

“What exactly are you doing?” Carrie asked.

“I’m reprogramming the drones, changing their routes. I’m directing them toward the ocean, as far away from land as possible.”

“What about collateral damage?”

“I don’t follow.”

“What happens when Miasma aerosols hit the water? They might kill fish for miles.”

He paused in mid-keystroke. “Would you rather they killed people?”

“Not really,” she admitted.

He returned to his work. Then he lowered his face to the computer until his nose was practically touching the screen. “Uh, oh.”

“Uh, oh?” Hooper peered into the office. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s overriding my changes.”

“Simona.” Carrie clenched her fists. “Can you stop her?”

“Maybe.” He began frantically pounding away on the keyboard. Then he slammed his fists on the desk. “Damn it.”

Hooper’s jaw hardened. “I take it that’s a no.”

“I’m completely shut out of the system.” He shook his head. “It looks like Simona has commandeered her model from another location.”

“But what about the drones?” Carrie asked. “What about the new Black Death?”

His shoulders sagged. “I can’t stop it.”

“Beverly.” I sprinted between two thick tree trunks. “Keep your distance, but follow my lead.”

She flashed me a nod and kept running. I hustled northeast, searching for another patch of soft dirt. After a brief run, I swung to the east. Beverly followed suit.

The massive dust devil whirled to the west. The wind died off and I saw something promising.

My boots pounded against the soil as I raced toward a deep pit. “You take the right,” I shouted. “I’ll take the left.”

Beverly nodded. With a sudden burst of speed, she shifted out a few feet and ran alongside the pit. As I ran along the opposite side, I glanced over my shoulder.

The Grueler, surrounded by flying dust, galloped after us. Its metal appeared orange in the darkness. Its hydraulics had risen to unbearable decibels.

It ran into the pit. Its metal legs churned. Its massive bulk surged forward and it began to slice through the soft soil.

I ran to the far end. Inhaling deeply, I watched the metal beast make its way toward the middle of the pit. Its legs moved quickly, easily.

Dirt squelched. Metal squealed.

The Grueler’s movements slowed as its legs slipped deeper into the loose dirt and dust. But it kept moving toward us.

My brain raced. I had no backup plan, no other ideas. If the pit didn’t stop the creature, we’d be forced to keep running.

The Grueler lifted its left front leg. The metal limb only rose partway out of the soil. The robotic beast tried to shift the leg forward. But the dirt resisted the effort. It lowered the limb and tried to lift the right hind one. But it refused to move as well.

I felt a strange sense of fascination as I watched the Grueler struggle to free itself from the pit’s clutches. It was like standing at the La Brea Tar Pits, watching a prehistoric animal trying to fight its way out of bitumen.

Beverly appeared at my side. Cocking her head, she studied the creature. “I think it’s—”

Abruptly, the Grueler’s front legs lunged forward in a single movement. Its back legs did the same and it shifted a few inches toward us.

“It’s not going to stop.” Unsheathing my machete, I strode to the edge of the pit.

“Where are you going?” she called out.

“To finish this.” I hopped into the pit. My boots sank into the soft dirt and I fought my way forward.

The Grueler tried to lunge at me as I drew within range. But it was too slow, too awkward. I easily sidestepped its effort and hoisted myself onto its back. It reared up. The hissing climbed another pitch. Then it began to jolt and buck like a horse.

I wrapped my legs around the chassis and gripped a piece of piping with my free hand. Using my machete, I pried open a section of protective casing.

The bucking increased. I began flying back and forth, barely maintaining my grip. Beneath me, I saw the Grueler’s inner workings. I scanned them, looking for a central control unit. Giving up, I fit my blade between various sets of pipes. Taking a deep breath, I plunged it downward.

My blade sliced through numerous wires. The bucking halted and I was able to catch my breath. Looking down, I saw a small metal box beneath the sheared wiring. Padding protected it on all sides. I shifted my blade and slammed it into the box.

I felt a small jolt. Electrical sparks flew outward. The Grueler froze. Then it slowly sank into the dirt.

I waited for the creature to stir, to come back to life. But it didn’t move. Slowly, its red glowing lights faded to blackness.

After a few additional seconds, I relaxed my grip and stood up on the partially submerged metallic carcass.

Beverly stood at the edge of the pit. I gave her a sly smile. Then I lifted my hands over my head in classic victory pose.

She faked a yawn. “Took you long enough.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “I was trying to give you a good show.”

“You thought that was a good show?”

Chuckling under my breath, I hopped off the Grueler and waded through the dirt. Then I climbed out of the pit.

She backed up a few inches.

Suddenly, I tackled her to the ground. With a soft squeal, she tried to squirm away. But I held fast.

Small dust devils soared around us, blanketing us. Dirt smashed into our bodies and faces.

With a grunt, she rolled me onto my back and climbed on top of me. Brushing back her hair, she stared at me with those stunning violet eyes of hers. Then her mouth was on mine, pushing hard. Our tongues met in the middle and electric sparks flew inside me.

“That’s enough for now.” She kissed me again and then stood up. Offering a sly smile, she extended her hand.

I grasped it and pulled her back down. I kissed her passionately. Her body melted into mine and I felt her heaving breasts against my chest.

I held the embrace for an extra moment. Then I slid out from under her and climbed to my feet. She stared at me with longing and exacerbation for a few seconds. Then she took my outstretched hand and I pulled her up from the ground.

I took one final look at the Grueler. My body hurt and my strength felt sapped. But it was worth it to see the robotic beast lying in the pit, broken and defeated.

“Cy.” Beverly’s voice was soft, serious.

“What?”

“Look.”

She pointed toward the station. Staring hard, I saw a bright light spread across the runway. “What’s that?” I asked.

“It’s light from inside the hangar. They must’ve opened the gate.” Her eyes turned hard as steel. “I hope Dutch and Carrie are in position. Because those drones are about to take off.”