would do it, and if he didn't wake up before Fossil
started to roam, too bad.
They ran past the small offshoot that connected the
control room to the main hall, both of them panting,
both of them aware that they needed a working
elevator a hell of a lot more than they needed to screw
with Reston. As Leon had said, they didn't want to be
around for the Planet's grand finale.
The open panel in the wall and the small light
above the "In use" sign were enough to make John
grin like a kid, the relief a cool and sweeping wave;
they'd taken a big risk deciding to let Fossil out before
securing their escape route.
Leon hit the recall button, looking just as relieved.
"Two, two-and-a-half minutes," he said, and John nodded.
"Just a quick look," he said, and turned back
toward the small passage across the hall. Leon was out
of ammo, but John still had a few rounds in the M-16
in case Reston did anything stupid.
They hurried to the door at the end of the hall and
found it unlocked. John went first, sweeping the large
room with the rifle, then whistling in awe at the setup.
"Damn," he said softly. A line of black leather chairs faced an entire wall of screens. Deep red plush carpet.
A shining silver console, sleek and ultramodern, a table
that looked like solid white marble behind it.
At least we don't have to dig through any clutter...
Except for a coffee mug and a silver flask on the
console, there was nothing to see. No papers or office
stuff, no personal items, no secret code books.
"Probably ought to get going," Leon said. "I'm estimating time here, I'd hate to be a couple minutes
off."
"Yeah, okay. Let's..."
There was movement on one of the wall screens,
midway through the second row from the top. John
stepped closer to the monitor, wondering who the hell
it could be, the employees got out and that's two people, can't be...
"Oh, shit," John said, and felt his stomach drop, a sickening plunge that seemed to go on and on, his
horrified gaze fixed to the screen.
Reston, with a gun. Dragging Rebecca through some
hall, his arm around her throat. Rebecca's feet half-
dragging on the floor, her head hanging, her arms slack.
"Claire!"
John glanced away, saw Leon staring at a second
monitor, saw David and Claire, armed, moving
quickly down another featureless corridor.
"Can we refill the tube?" John barked, his gut still lurching, feeling more terrified by the sight of their
friends than he had all night, that miserable bastard's got 'becca...
"I don't know," Leon said quickly, "we can try, but we've gotta go now..."
John stepped back from the wall, searching the
pictures for one of the laboratory area, his exhaustion
falling away as fresh adrenaline pounded into his
system.
There, a dark room, a single light in the corner
pointed at the tube, at the moving, thrashing thing
inside. In seconds, dripping hands plunged through
the clear matter, tearing, shattering, a massive, pallid,
reptilian leg stepping through.
Too late: Fossil was out.
TWENTY-ONE
THE CREATURE DESIGNATED TYRANT SERIES
ReH1a, more commonly known as Fossil, was moti-
vated purely by instinct and it only had one: eat. All
of its actions stemmed from that single, primal urge.
If there was something between it and food, Fossil
destroyed it. If something attacked, tried to stop it
from food, Fossil killed it. There was no reproductive
impulse, because Fossil was the only member of its
species.
Fossil woke hungry. It sensed food, picking up on
electrical charges in the air, scents, distant heat - and
destroyed the thing that held it. The environment was
unfamiliar to Fossil, but not important; there was
food, and it was hungry.
At ten feet tall and weighing roughly a thousand
pounds, the wall that stood between Fossil and food
didn't stop it for long. Past that was another wall, and
then another - and the rich feels and smells of food
were very close, so close that Fossil experienced the
closest thing it had to an emotion: it wanted, a state of
being that went beyond hunger, a powerful extension of its instinct that encouraged it to move faster. Fossil
would eat almost anything, but living food always
made it want.
The wall that stopped it from food was thicker and
harder than the others, but not so much that it could
stop Fossil. It ripped through the layers of substance
and was in a strange place, nothing organic there but
the moving, screeching food.
Food ran at it, hard to see but smelling quite strongly.
Food raised a claw and swiped at Fossil, crying in fury,
its desire to attack and kill; Fossil knew this because of
the smell. Within seconds, Fossil was surrounded by
food, and again, it wanted. The animals that were food
howled and screamed, dancing and leaping, and Fossil
reached out and picked up the closest.
Food had sharp talons, but Fossil's hide was thick.
Fossil bit into the food, tearing a great chunk from the
writhing body, and was fulfilled. Its sense of purpose
was met so long as it chewed and swallowed, hot
blood dripping down its throat, hot flesh ripping
between its teeth.
The other food animals continued to attack, mak-
ing it easy for Fossil to eat. Fossil ate all of the food
animals in a short period of time, and its metabolism
used the food almost as quickly, giving Fossil
strength to find more food. It was an extremely
simple process, one that continued as long as Fossil
was awake.
Finished with the dark and cavernous room that
had housed the screaming food, Fossil licked blood off
its fingers and opened its senses, searching for its next
meal. In seconds, it knew that there was more, living
and moving close by.
Fossil wanted. Fossil was hungry.
TWENTY-TWO
THE GIRL WAS SICK, HER SKIN CLAMMY, HER
attempts to get away from him pathetic and weak.
Reston wished he could get rid of her, just drop her
and run, but he didn't dare. She was his ticket through
the forces on the surface; surely they wouldn't kill one
of their own.
Still, he wished the stupid girl wasn't so ill; she was
slowing him down, hardly able to walk, and he had no
choice but to continue dragging her along, north
through the back corridor, then east at the far corner
of the facility, heading for the connecting door to the
cell block. From the cells the service elevator was a
two-minute walk.
Almost there, almost done with this impossible, incredible night, not much farther. . .
He was an extremely important man, he was a
respected member of a group that had more money
and power than most countries, he was Jay Walling-
ford Reston - and here he was being hunted in his
own facility, forced to take a hostage, to hold a gun to
the head of a sick girl and sneak out like some
criminal; it was ludicrous, just unbelievable.
"Too tight," the girl whispered, her voice strangled and rasping.
"Too bad," he answered, continuing to drag her along by her slender throat, her head tucked through
his arm; she should have thought of that before she
decided to invade the Planet.
He pulled her through the door that led into the cell
block, feeling better with each step he took. Each was
another step closer to escape, to survival. He would
not be gunned down by some pious, self-righteous
group of visionless thugs; he'd kill himself first.
Past the empty cells, almost to the door - and the
girl stumbled, falling into him so hard that she almost
knocked him down. She gripped him tightly, trying to
regain her balance, and Reston felt a sudden insane
rush of anger at her, of rage.
Stupid bitch, assassin, spy, I should shoot you right here, now, blow your slack, stupid brain across the
walls...
He regained control before he could pull the trigger,
but the loss of composure frightened him a little. It
would have been a mistake, and a costly one.
"Do that again and I'll kill you," he said coldly, and kicked at the door that led into the main hall, pleased
at the merciless quality of his voice. He sounded
strong, like a man who wouldn't hesitate to kill if it
served his purposes - which, he was coming to dis-
cover, was what he was.
Through the door and into the hall...
"Let her go, Reston!"
John and Red were at the corner, both of them with
weapons trained on him. Blocking the path to the elevator.
Immediately, Reston dragged the girl back, they'd
just have to go back into the cell block while he
decided how to handle...
"Forget it," Red growled. "They're right behind you, we saw them tailing you. You're trapped."
Reston pushed the gun barrel against the girl's
head, desperate, I've got the hostage, they can't, they have to let me go...
"I'll kill her!" He backed up again, moving toward the anteroom of the test program, the girl staggering to stay on her feet.
"And then we'll kill you," John said, not a whisper of lie in his deep voice. "If you hurt her, we'll hurt you. Let her go and we leave."
Reston reached the closed metal door and reached
around for the control panel, hitting the button that
would unlock the gate and the hatch into One.
"You can't possibly expect me to believe that," he sneered as the sheet metal slid up; there was only one
Dac left alive and he'd left their kennel open - I can climb, I can still get away from them, it's not too late!
At that second, the door to the cell block opened
and the other two stepped out - stepped in between
the gunmen and him, and he acted before he had time
to think, taking his chance.
Reston pushed the girl away, hard, throwing her
toward all four of them and he jumped left in the
same motion, hitting the hatch with his shoulder. The
door into One flew open and he was through, slam-
ming it closed. There was a bolt and he threw it, the
the metal making a sound like music.
As long as he stayed away from the clearings, he was
safe. They couldn't touch him.
Strong hands caught her before she could crash into
the ground - and she could breathe again - and John
and Leon were alive ... the relief was an ocean of
warmth rising up over her, making her feel even
weaker than she already was. The extended chokehold
had taken most of what little strength she'd had. In
fact, now that she thought about it, Rebecca felt an
awful lot like death on two legs; like crap on a cracker,
as she used to say when she was a child...
Claire held her steady - it was Claire's strong
hands that she'd felt - and everyone gathered around
her, John picking her up easily. Rebecca closed her
eyes, relaxing into her exhaustion.
"Are you alright?" David asked, and she nodded, relieved and happy that they were together again, that
no one had been hurt -
- no one but me, anyway -
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