Z. Raptor (11 page)

And straight into the path of a Brute. The creature had been hiding itself in the long grass. Now it reared up and spat acid. The ostrich weaved, turned and bolted back toward the trees. Before it could get there, a second, larger Brute—a real monster with one eye missing and scarred over—darted out of hiding and grabbed it in his jaws. With a flick of its great gray head, it jerked the bird off the ground and slammed it against a tree, snapping its neck.

Adam held very, very still.
If I can see them, they can see me
.

The one-eyed killer held the large bird above its gray, scarred head and roared. The other Brute bobbed its head lower as it approached, holding out its claws behind it—gestures of submission. Only then did One Eye tear off a wing and a leg from its catch and throw them to the ground, devouring the rest itself. The other greedily ate its lesser spoils and followed One Eye back into the forest. One Eye paused for a moment, scenting the air. It turned and seemed to look in Adam's direction. Then it snapped its jaws, turned again and vanished from sight.

Adam breathed a shaky sigh of relief.

“Bad boys,” Harm breathed. “Hunting for themselves and not taking it back to their queen.”

“The smaller one was female,” said Loner. He'd stolen up behind them so quietly Adam hadn't even noticed. “She is weaker than most. He is injured.”

“Do they come hunting by themselves 'cause they can't compete with the others?” Adam wondered.

Loner nodded. “Dangerous. Their ruler punishes with death.”

“Dangerous to us too,” said Adam. “If they'd scented us—”

“C'mon, let's do what we came here for.” Harm began searching a patch of land nearby. Carefully she pulled away a thin layer of dead grass to reveal a length of clear plastic sheeting.

It had been stretched flat over a shallow conical pit in the sand. A rock sat on top, placed carefully in the middle. Harm lifted the stone aside, and Adam scrambled down to watch as she carefully turned over the transparent sheet to reveal three coconut shells split in half, nestling in the sand beneath. Each was half full of water.

“Wow,” Adam said. “Neat trick.”

“The plastic washed up on the shore. Must've come from one of the wrecks.” Harm lifted one of the shells. “So, anyway, you lay it over this hole in the sand, and the sun warms the sand beneath and takes out the moisture. The moisture cools on the plastic, turns to water and drips into the cups. Great to be cast away with a science teacher, huh?”

She leaned forward over the crumpled plastic sheet, where a few more droplets had collected. In a darting movement, she lowered her face and lapped at it in sudden desperation. Adam watched, uncomfortable. Then Harm glanced back at him.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “Should've shared.”

She continued to lean forward, reaching underneath a bush and pulling out an ancient empty carton that had once held juice, by the look of it. “Here,” she said. “Pour the water into there for carrying. I don't trust myself right now.” She straightened up. “I'll fetch coconuts so we can stoke our supplies a little, 'kay?”

“Right.” Adam watched her cross to a towering palm tree and climb it with practiced ease. Then he took each hollowed-out shell and poured the water carefully.

“I think I know why Brutes came up here. I found these.” Loner's voice carried from the base of the rise.

Turning, Adam saw the raptor was holding something. His insides lurched as he realized it was a pair of binoculars. He recognized them—they were Chen's. The man had been using them last night.

“The Brutes must've picked these up from the beach,” Adam said, tugging them gently free from Loner's claws. “They belong to an FBI agent.”

Loner stared at him. “A what?”

“Sorry. I mean, a kind of policeman. From America.”

“And this agent”—an edge of urgency had stolen into Loner's voice—“he came from this ship you say is out there?”

“Yes, but I don't know if he made it here alive or not. If they've got his binoculars, it could mean—” Adam remembered Brad's burning face on the beach and shook his head wearily. “Why would Brutes need binoculars, anyway?”

Loner pointed into the distance, to where a concrete building could be seen between two hilltops. “The Vel camp,” he said. “The Brutes have been spying on the Vels.”

Adam studied the scratched binoculars and saw the “day” setting had already been selected.
Brutes aren't so stupid,
he thought as he placed the lenses to his eyes and looked for himself. The magnification was impressive. He could see the cracks and crumbles in the concrete, and sheets of corrugated iron blocking up a doorway. In front of it, two Vels were standing guard beside a kind of scrap barricade—splintered desks, an old refrigerator, chunks of concrete, the rusted chassis of an ancient motorbike, with thick chains snaking between the component parts.

“They look like they're expecting an attack,” said Adam. “Is it you they're worried about?”

Loner shook his head. “How can I be a threat to them? I was one of the sick ones for many weeks.”

Adam looked at him. “Sick?”

“When my young days ended, my mind . . . changed. I felt hot. Weak.” His lips curled awkwardly around the word. “I saw things that could not be real. There were flashes in my sight. I felt things in my mind I did not understand.” He breathed out sharply, spittle flecking the corners of his mouth. “There were others like me. The sick ones are kept strapped down in a dark room. They told us we were just like them. They told us we should
act
like them.” Loner shook that huge striped head. “But I knew I was not like them. I had a name. They beat me and bled me, but I would not let go of who I am.”

Adam could just imagine a raptor doctor's bedside manner.
Loner's like Zed,
he realized.
He's learned to think for himself.
He stared long and hard into the animal's deep orange eyes. “So what happened?”

“In the dark room, at night when it was quiet, I saw
people
. Human people who came out of the wall . . . in special clothes to protect them.”

“And you weren't crazy, were you?” breathed Adam. “The people came from Geneflow, right?”

“They scraped scabs from our wounds. Put wires in our blood.” Loner shook slightly as he spoke. “Fixed metal against our heads. I thought they were dreams . . . until I saw them press numbers on a pad to make the wall open and close.” He blinked at Adam. “One night I pressed the numbers too. The dark room opened onto light.”

“And that's how you found out that this place was part of an experiment,” Adam said.

“They did not know I could escape,” said Loner, his claws twitching. “I was smart. I escaped many times, but never left. Instead I listened to Josephs. I watched and . . . learned.”

“There must be real proof of what they're doing inside that base, if we could just get to it.” Adam looked out to sea again, longing to spy a ship on the horizon. “How many people does Josephs have here?”

“Not many, I think,” said Loner. “But they have no scent. They are hard to find.”

Adam nodded. “Geneflow has this sort of antistink spray. Helps them stay hidden from their creations.”

“They used to creep into the dark room often,” Loner remembered. “But more Vels turned sick. In time, the councillors said they would not waste more food on us. They took us away from camp and left us to hunt for ourselves.” Loner looked out to sea just as Adam had. “Most died. They starved or were killed by Brutes. Only I survived. I don't think I was truly sick. I grew strong again. My mind grew clearer.” His head snapped back around, voice growing fiercer as he bore down on Adam. “And I knew what I had to do. Stop all this. Stop Geneflow. But the councillors would not listen, could not understand. They hate me, fear me. Because I am different.”

Adam shrank back a little. “Didn't you show your . . . your pack the door in the wall? Tell them that they were part of an experiment?”

“I told them, Adam. They would not listen. The old sickroom had been made a forbidden place in case sickness spread. No one would go there.” Agitated, Loner rocked back and forth as if getting ready to spring. “But even if they had listened to me . . . even if we had killed Josephs's humans . . . Geneflow would send more humans to kill all of us.” He shook his large, serpentine head. “Nowhere to run to on this island. No escape.”

“I get it,” Adam said. “So you had to get help from the outside world. You made the video message.”

Loner looked at Adam almost accusingly. “I risked my life, creeping inside Geneflow's base to send it.”

“And it worked,” Adam said quickly, holding up the binoculars. “It was worth it, right? Help's come.”

“It has not worked well enough,” Loner hissed. “Not yet. And time is running out.”

There was something about Loner's intensity that scared him.

“If only we could get another message to Dr. Marrs,” said Adam shakily. “Warn him about the underwater guard dogs. If he could deal with them so proper troops could land here—”

Loner snorted and sank back to his haunches. “We would never get as far as the sickroom. My brothers and sisters would tear us apart.”

“Hey.” Harm approached with an armful of shiny green fruits. “Guess we should be getting back with the water for the others.”

At once, Loner seemed to forget his frustration, turning to her and bowing his head. Harm only eyed him warily and held out some coconuts to Adam to hold while she adjusted her bulging satchel. He dropped one as he tried to carry them all. Loner scooped it up and scraped the top against the sicklelike claw on his right leg. It sliced through the hard fruit's tough skin like a knife opening a hard-boiled egg.

“Drink,” Loner said softly, holding out the fruit to Harm and Adam. “You are going to need your strength.”

T
he journey back to David and Lisa was more exhausting and painful than exhilarating. Still perched precariously on Loner's back, Adam's fingers and palms were covered in cuts from the raptor's sharp, stubby feathers, and his stomach muscles had been clamped hard for so long his guts felt lined with broken glass. They'd had to take a longer route to the dugout to avoid a pack of Brutes out hunting in the brush and jungle.

“Thank God.” David jumped up as Loner came loping into the clearing and dropped to his knees, allowing Adam and Harm to scramble off. “I thought you were never coming.” He snatched the carton from Adam, then saw the binoculars sticking out of his jeans pocket. “Where did you find those?”

“They were Agent Chen's.” Adam briefly explained how and where Loner had found them.

“Seems we have something to thank your FBI friend for at least,” said David. “Anything that helps us keep tabs on the raptors . . .” He poured a capful of the water and carefully dabbed it onto Lisa's eyes. They were looking less swollen now, Adam was glad to note. David allowed her a further capful of the precious liquid to drink, then poured another for Harm and Adam.

Loner broke open more coconuts, ripe and unripe, and the ragged party ate and drank greedily in silence. The milk tasted unbelievably gross and sour to Adam, and he found himself longing for burgers and fries and an ice-cold Coke.

David must've noticed his expression. “Don't waste a drop,” he warned. “That coconut water's chock-full of nutrients.

“When we die,” Harm muttered, “we'll be in amazing shape.”

As Adam gouged the last white flesh from a coconut husk, he heard distant animal cries and groans.

Lisa stiffened. “Sounds like Brutes.”

“Something's got them stirred up,” David agreed.

Harm looked between the pit and Loner. “Do you think they smell those two Vels you killed?”

Loner was staring at the flies buzzing over the corpse of his pack brother in the pit, as if tracking their intricate movements. “This place will not be safe much longer,” he said at last. “Dead Vels or not, they will be coming here to gather you.”

“For the feast,” Adam murmured.

“Where can we go?” The way Lisa said the words, it wasn't so much a question as a sigh of despair.

“Isn't there anywhere on the island that will give us cover?” Adam asked.

“The Vel camp would give us plenty,” Harm said sarcastically. “And if we ask real nicely, maybe this Josephs woman will let us use her phone to charter us a jet out of here.”

“I was just asking,” Adam shot back.

“There's a derelict supply store at the airstrip,” David reflected. “But there's too much open ground around there, no cover. If the raptors sniffed us out along the way, we wouldn't stand a chance.”

Adam turned to Loner, who was hanging back, his orange eyes taking in everything. “Hey,” he realized guiltily, “you haven't eaten anything.”

“I dug another trap for ostrich,” said Loner slowly. “Perhaps for now you can hide there.” He paused. “It is near the bone pit.”

Harm shook her head. “No way. We're not hiding out there.”

“The smell of the dead is strong around the pit,” Loner went on. “It would help mask your living smell.”

Lisa looked almost pleadingly at David. “I hate it there. Hate it.”

“You think I don't?” David looked grim. “This is about survival.”

“What
is
the bone pit?” Adam looked between them, unease growing.

“A mass grave,” said Lisa, her red swollen eyes lending violence to her stare, her voice heavy as stone. “Human bones piled high as a hill.”