Dearly, Beloved (50 page)

“Hagens, if you—”

“Don’t even start, or I’ll kill you where you stand.” Hagens threw me at the zombie who held the rope, and despite my fighting him every inch of the way, he started to bind me. “Not tonight. Not when I’m finally in a good mood!”

The drive took a while, but the place was well marked. We started passing signs for the Maria Bosawas-Allister Memorial Animal Preserve and Gene Bank about ten miles out, and soon I encountered signs directing drivers farther on, toward Allister Genetics.

Michael said nothing for most of the trip, which was very smart of him. Especially after Salvez called to let me know that the police had lost Coalhouse. At that point I had to admit that the Changed was the best lead we had to go on. At the very least, we had to take care of them so we could concentrate fully on Nora. With Coalhouse gone, the authorities would soon start branching out.

And I prayed that he was
not
involved with the Changed. Although I was terrified for both of them, it was actually Coalhouse I was most worried about—because I knew my girl could handle herself.

“I’m going to get her,” I told Salvez before hanging up. “We’re almost there. Give me an idea of the lay of the land.”

Michael continued to watch me warily, hand curled around his nose, but offered, “The preserve is about three thousand square miles. But we shouldn’t have to go anywhere near it. The AG building is pretty straightforward.”

“Three thousand square miles of nothing but animals and plants?” I asked, amazed. “And your family owns it?”

“The Last Garden of Eden,” Michael said sarcastically, turning his attention to the window. “Dad always says it’s the last place in the Territories you can hide anything.”

“He have anything worth hiding?”

Michael sniffed messily. “Like I’d tell you anything about my family? You don’t deserve to know.”

“Fine. Just tell me what we’re doing.” I knew bickering—hell, even beating the kid up—wasn’t going to do any more good at this point. Time to grow up.

“There’s a lab on the eleventh floor. We can get on a comlink with him there.”

“And a comlink is different from a phone call how?”

“Trust me. It has to be done this way.”

“Fine. Then that’s where I take you hostage.”

“What?”
Michael barked.

“Best way to get a rise out of your dad, I figure,” I said as I turned off onto another road, one marked for employees. “Besides, you think I’m just going to trail along after you and twiddle my thumbs while you talk to him, tell him some kind of sob story? Double-cross me while you’re at it? You’re a nasty little git. In fact, I want you visibly in the cross fire. I want to make sure these forces of yours don’t switch to live rounds once we get up there.”

Michael clenched his fists before yelling, “Why won’t you just
die
?”

“Believe me, I have asked myself that question many times since running into you again.”

Forcing his hands open, he took a moment to collect himself—he was doing that increasingly. “First guardhouse is coming up.” He turned to me. “You’re going to have to go in the trunk. They’ll let me through without question.”

“Little lord, I might be dead, but I’m not stupid.”

“It’s the only way. I’m serious!”

I took a deep, useless breath and gave him my full attention. “Okay. Explain.”

“There
are
guards. I’m not making this up. You think we can just walk into a facility full of equipment and experiments worth millions?” He pointed at himself. “I look like hell right now, but I’m his son. I’ve been working here, I have clearance. They’ll let me in. They will
not
let you pass without a fight.”

Suspicious as I was, I had to admit he was probably right. “If I do this, and you play me?”

“Let me guess: you’ll make me hurt? You need some new threats.” Michael straightened his jacket. “I want to get Miss Dearly back. You don’t trust me, I don’t trust you, but let’s try to trust that we both want the same thing right now.”

“Dandy.” I pulled the car over and unlocked the doors, removing my handgun from my holster. I didn’t want to do it but time was running short. “Let’s do this fast.”

Michael shifted over into the driver’s seat as I left. I moved to the back of the car, eyeing the trunk warily as it opened. It wasn’t just having to let Michael take the lead that made me uneasy—there was something about the idea of crawling into an enclosed, tiny space that added an extra aura of doom to the whole thing. But at least I could shoot my way out of my vehicular coffin should the need arise.

I climbed in and pulled the lid down. When everything was closed up, Michael took off. After about five minutes he slowed. As I stared at the lid of the car, I heard muffled voices, one of them belonging to someone other than Allister. A few seconds later we started moving again. This scene was repeated twice, and each time Allister got us through. Hopefully he’d told the truth, and this wasn’t some elaborate game.

When the car was finally shut off and the trunk popped, I sat up, my eyes adjusting. We were inside a largely empty parking garage, the few carriages within spaced out due to the lateness of the hour.

Allister got out of the car. “Guards said almost everyone’s gone home.”

“Good work,” I allowed as I hopped out.

“Thank you,” Michael said sarcastically before opening one of the rear doors, going for a gun. “If we’re both going? I get a weapon, too.”

Stepping forward, I shut the door, narrowly missing his hands. “Like hell you do.”

He leaned closer. “I deserve to defend myself if you lose it. And if I get the chance? I’ll kill whoever has her!”

“Oh, you will?” I was starting to feel hot again, a biological impossibility, and a sign I needed to move. “Then walk so we can get there faster!”

It took him a few infuriating moments, but Michael finally gave up his gun gambit and started moving. I followed him, keeping my handgun out of sight. I didn’t know how many cameras might be watching, and I didn’t need any guards deciding to attack us prematurely.

At one point he crouched down and said, “Guard station ahead. I’ll walk, you sneak.”

Buying this, I followed suit. Michael straightened and slowly led the way to a far interior entrance, trying to keep behind cars and to the wall when he could for my benefit. In time we passed the guard station, the guards inside greeting Michael while remaining clueless about me, and made it to a metal door. The chip in Michael’s wrist got us inside. From there he took me to an elevator, where his chip allowed him to hit the button for the eleventh floor.

“We’re going to the main lab,” he said, sounding strangely at peace, as if he’d finally found a thread he could follow through the labyrinth of activity we were currently engaged in. He then slid his filthy fingers through his hair, before grabbing his own nose and cracking it to the side with a cry. Before I could react, I saw fresh blood dripping, smelled it, and realized what he’d done.

“Making yourself look worse?”

He chuckled snottily. “No, actually.”

“Then what?” Maybe I’d driven him insane. I was relieved to find that the idea actually troubled me.

“
This
is what will get hold of my dad.”

“What?”

“If I can get us through decontamination as we are and into the lab, the presence of blood and dead flesh will set off about a million alarms,” he explained. “It’s supposed to remain sterile. One of them will get Dad’s attention.”

Grudgingly impressed, I said, “Does he really pay attention to little things like lab spills? I thought he owned this entire place.”

“They’re the
only
things he pays attention to,” Michael said peevishly.

The elevator opened, revealing a small room. Sensors detected our movements and raised the lights to reveal clear glass walls and an assortment of equipment I couldn’t even begin to identify.

“There’s a lull between the decontamination announcement and the far door locking,” Michael said, pointing to it before cupping his hands under his nose. “You’re big, so make yourself useful.”

“Got it,” I said, holstering my gun for the moment.

“Welcome to Allister Genetics! Please stand by for decontamination!”

The minute the feminine voice faded away, I rushed the door. It gave easily beneath my shoulder, and Michael ran to join me, ducking a sudden burst of gas from the ceiling. We hurried into the lab, the door swinging shut and locking behind us. I ignored it, figuring it’d open on the next cycle.

The lab appeared to be empty. Michael unlaced his fingers and walked toward one of the stainless steel workstations, where he proceeded to smear two exaggerated handprints of blood over the upper surface. The long, sterile white room ran red, warning
lights and sirens exploding out of nowhere. Michael cupped his hands over his ears while I drew out my gun.

“Contamination. Contamination,”
the female voice intoned.

“Where can we talk to him?” I yelled.

Michael moved over to a long wall taken up by virtual cages full of holographic rats, and I followed. As I waited to see what would happen next, a silhouette of a man ghosted over a nearby wall, causing me to turn around and take aim. We weren’t alone after all.

“Bram?” Dr. Elpinoy said, the red light from the alarms making his wrinkled face look like a puddle of melted candle wax. I was used to seeing him in a lab coat, but now he wore one with a stylized Allister Genetics logo on the pocket.

“Dick?” I said, unbelieving, as I lowered my weapon. He’d come
here
to work?

“What are you doing here? What are—” He looked at Michael.

Before he could get the wrong idea, I grabbed him by the hand and dragged him over to a workstation. “We’ve got an emergency!” I said. “Just stay here!”

“Emergency?” he said, even as he backed up to where I indicated. “What do you mean, emergency?”

“Coalhouse took Nora. Patient One, too.” At this news, Elpinoy went stock-still, his eyes widening.

The sirens abruptly stopped. Turning toward the wall of rats, I saw they’d been replaced by a video connection with a middle-aged man in a fine suit, his eyes blazing with anger. He was standing in a room that looked similar to the one we were in—the same sort of equipment, the same wall of virtual rats. Several large blue vats stood behind him, strange creatures curled up within.

He was here. He was somewhere in the building.
Damn it
.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded. “What’s going on, son? What’s happened to you?”

“Wrong person to ask,” I piped up as I stepped closer to the
screen. I raised my gun, training it on Michael’s head. “Your only son’s a little out of commission right now.”

Allister the elder swung his eyes to me—and paused. “My God.”

“He wants money, Dad,” Michael said impatiently. “A million. Said he’ll hold me hostage till he gets it.”

Although there’d been no talk of money beforehand, I didn’t contradict this—Michael probably knew better than I what would spur his father into action. I merely turned my gun slowly to the side, letting the man see it from all angles.

Lord Allister didn’t even look at his son. Instead he met my eyes and said, “I didn’t expect to meet you this way, Mr. Griswold. I’m disappointed.”

This was a new level of weird. “What? How do you know who I am?”

“Dad?” Michael said, a poignant note in his voice.

Lord Allister actually held up a hand to shush his son, his attention still on me. “And in my building … not wise. Not wise at all.” The oddest thing was that he didn’t sound angry. He sounded almost contemplative.

“How do you know me?” Had Michael told him about me, perhaps?

“You don’t need to know that,” Allister said. He finally looked at Michael. “Not right now.”

Trying to recover the plot, I said, “Then we’ll leave. Got a lot of my friends waiting for me. In fact, they’re almost at your front door. Did your wife try to call you earlier?” The man blinked quickly, though the rest of his face didn’t move. “Maybe I’m smarter than you give me credit for.”

That got a reaction out of him. “Dead
trash
,” Lord Allister growled. To his son, he said, “Hold on.” The feed disappeared, the wall left blank.

I wasn’t expecting it to be over so quickly. “Let’s move,” I told Allister. We’d puzzle out the rest later.

Michael just smiled.

A popping sound captured my attention. I looked to the door we’d come through but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Then another pop, and another. Following the sound, I realized all of the doors were locking, some of them two and three times over. Even Elpinoy looked around in wonder, flinching every time a lock engaged.

“You’re an idiot,” Michael said. “Not only did you come
in
, you went eleven freaking stories up. Code 12 means my father is on the
twelfth floor
and doesn’t wish to be disturbed!”

Grabbing Michael by the collar, I hurried over to one of the far doors. There, I forcibly waved his wrist over the reader, but for naught. They’d already shut off his access remotely. I thrust him off to the side and shot the lock, beat myself at the door, to no avail. Everything was reinforced ten times over.