Hybrid (2 page)
Deep within the chamber, something stirred. It had been sleeping for over 100 centuries. A flash of light and some strange noises had disturbed its near-eternal slumber. The entity stretched itself slowly, flexing each claw, testing each muscle. It dug its claws into the rock and left four long scratch marks in the metal and granite wall. It slowly opened its eyes, which were a fluorescent blood-red and glowed like two fiery embers. The creature stood and unfurled its long serpent-like tail, whipping the tensile appendage back and forth.
It walked over to another creature next to it and affectionately stroked the large creature's hide. The second beast growled softly and moved a massive paw that was easily the size of a dinner platter. The first creature grinned, revealing large reptilian teeth.
Slowly, it made its way toward the opening, its senses alert for whatever freed it from its eternal prison. It hadn't fed for nearly 90 centuries. Those that were buried with it had been drained eons ago; their dried remains still littered the cavern floor. It needed to feed; it smelled traces of food out beyond the opening. It relished the thought of hunting again after so long.
It approached the opening and caught the scent of primates. This was not the prey it had expected, but at this point, anything would do to satisfy its raging hunger. The primates were busily scrambling around the outside of its chamber, so it was able to step into the outer chamber unnoticed. It waited to be noticed; it needed to feed. One of the primates turned, saw it and screamed. Then they all turned. It felt the waves of fear, and immediately consumed them, relishing their primitive emotions as a man in the desert would relish a canteen of cool water.
It rushed toward the closest man and caught him in a grip of iron around his throat. The man struggled and shrieked with fear. It savored each wave of terror, like a connoisseur appreciating an excellent vintage of wine. The man fainted in its grasp, providing it no more food. It casually crushed the man's throat and tossed him aside, looking for its next victim.
* * * *
Gibson's mind shrieked with terror when he heard the sickening crunch of bone. The god-forsaken thing had just killed one of his men and tossed him like a plaything. Gibson tried to reactivate the laser, but it was still in cool-down. He reached over for a pick axe and heard another scream. Gibson grabbed his makeshift weapon and charged the monster. He swung the pick with all his strength; his blow landed true upon the thing's massive shoulder, but simply bounced off in a shower of sparks.
Gibson felt something run him through, and he looked down, realizing the creature had just impaled him with its tail. He paused, staring at the creature's appendage in disbelief. He felt no pain when it pulled its tail free, just the taste of his own blood building up in the back of his mouth. He felt his lungs fill with blood, and tried to adjust his breathing shallower so he wouldn't cough.
“Oh, shit,” he whispered as blood poured from his mouth. Gibson fell face-first into the stone floor, his eyes locked open in a dead man's gaze.
* * * *
The creature quickly killed everyone else in the party and slowly made its way out into the world, a world that it hadn't seen nor walked upon in over ten thousand years. Its priority now was to continue feeding. The primates it had just killed could not satisfy its needs. It no longer felt starved, but it needed a purer form of fear. Fear was what it needed to survive. These men had that emotion, but neither strong enough nor pure enough to satisfy it or the other creature that was left behind.
Its primary job was to find food for itself and for the other; its secondary goal was to destroy those who had imprisoned it and its kindred. The two creatures would gather sparse nourishment from these primates, and then together they would hunt down the race of non-primate beings it only knew as Espers.
Chapter 1
The Lexus SUV looked out of place among the more common automobiles as it pulled into Madame's Restaurant. A man in a suit stepped out of the car cautiously before he opened the passenger door. A short, stocky elderly man slowly climbed down from the passenger compartment and gratefully took the cane that the suited man offered. Both men approached the entrance to the restaurant and quietly entered the establishment.
A young woman in a waitress outfit approached them immediately. “Party of two?” she asked between chews of her gum.
The old man looked quickly around the immediate area, scanning booths and tables, obviously looking for someone in particular. “We're supposed to be meeting someone here: Tall, about six-foot plus, very long, dark hair, blue eyes, medium build.” He hoped she could place his associate on such a vague description.
“Right this way, Mr. Denton; he's expecting you.” The waitress turned and proceeded to a back hallway.
Denton raised an eyebrow toward his companion and proceeded to follow the young woman. The hallway was narrow, barely wide enough for the two men to walk side by side. The hallway ended, emptying into a room the size of a master bedroom. The room was modestly decorated with certificates and a criminal justice diploma. There was a large computer suite at one corner of the small room that was sputtering paper from an ink-jet printer.
Denton quickly scanned the room. A series of personal photographs occupied a place of prominence on a small desk. He recognized his associate in a picture, and assumed that the woman and child in the photograph were of some personal significance. Denton knew that people in his associate's line of work rarely had many personal affiliations. He knew that was a blatant stereotype, but it was a judgment he validated from thirty years of experience. Spooks with wives and family were seldom worth the money they charged. Denton then focused on the imposing figure that sat behind a large out of place dining table. If this man had such affiliations, he was the exception.
The man had long jet-black hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. The white V-neck T-shirt did little to hide a well-developed upper torso and powerfully developed arms. Denton judged that his associate spent a great deal of time doing some kind of serious physical training. His build was not what would be associated with a body builder by any means; he lacked the sheer massive size that weight lifters possessed. His body seemed to be the build of an athlete—lean and muscular, but without the excessive bulk that could hinder mobility.
The man studied some reports intently, his eyes riveted on whatever the page said. Denton's eyes immediately fell upon the shoulder holster that held two auto pistols and four spare clips. Denton knew this was a formidable man.
Denton continued his scrutiny of the man as he sat behind the dining table with papers and photographs spread haphazardly in front of him. The man looked up and stood to meet his guests.
“Martin, come in, have a seat.” He gestured to the table covered with papers and pictures. The man in the suit stood quietly by the entryway, his face expressionless as he assumed a guard position.
“How did we make out?” Denton asked anxiously as he took a seat.
“I think I have enough for you to make our friend very, very uncomfortable, but nothing that could be totally admissible in a court of law.” He paused. “But the court of public opinion may be something different.”
Martin Denton let out a long sigh of relief. He knew that if anyone could infiltrate Medcorp Industries, Erik Knight would be the man for the job.
Erik Knight was in his early thirties. His eyes were sky blue, and seemed to have a haunting look that spoke of some unknown past torments and horrors. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head while yawning. His muscles writhed and flexed as his focus returned to the matter at hand.
Knight had been referred to Denton almost two years ago when he needed a special operative to penetrate a mob-operated stronghold in Chelsea. Denton was impressed with the quick, efficient manner in which the job was done. What impressed Denton even more was how inexpensive the services were. Denton admired skill, but knew that a more seasoned man would have much higher rates. Despite his concerns, Denton continued to utilize him, and was always amazed at how effective the young man was.
Normally, Denton would never travel to meet a contractor, but he was curious about Knight, and curiosity was something that would gnaw at the old man until he could satisfy it. Something about this young investigator didn't seem to add up. Denton couldn't quite place it. Seeing a family photograph only added to the mysterious equation that Denton had built up in his head.
People in Knight's line of work were all of the same paradigm: wild and reckless, usually foolhardy with money, a taste for expensive liquor and cheap women. His study of Knight indicated that the young independent was in some dire financial straits, but nothing too extreme. From his own gatherings he knew that Knight didn't drink and seemed relatively tame in comparison to other contractors the firm utilized in prior months. Erik Knight was an enigma, a stand-out from other independent operators.
Denton liked that for some reason. He found the private investigator to not only be deadly efficient at his work, but to possess a keen intellect and incredible instincts.
The investigator leaned forward slightly and began recounting the past events of his case. “I penetrated corporate security and got the accounting files that you requested, but couldn't find any information pertaining to the rumors we discussed,” he began. “I figured that what we were looking for was in his personal safe at his compound in Weston.”
“Go on,” Denton remarked.
“I got in a couple of nights ago,” Erik continued. “He always leaves his third story window open.”
“Please elaborate,” Denton urged. The older man loved details.
“I knew from a source that Hegart would be at a Political Action Committee fund raiser. I waited outside the estate until I saw his Rolls Royce leave the gate. I waited another half hour to make sure he was actually on his way. He has a habit of leaving and then returning five or ten minutes after leaving.” Erik paused as he adjusted his position on his seat. “I can only assume that he's absent-minded and forgets something or other.
“I used a frequency blanket to interfere with the monitors as I scaled the outer wall of the estate. As far as the guards could tell, there was some momentary static in the system, just enough time for me to clear the wall.”
“How did you actually get into the estate house?” Denton asked curiously.
“Your nemesis is very fond of clinging ivy. It grows up the side of his house, particularly where the open window is,” Erik explained. “It was a simple matter to climb the ivy and the lattice, and then slip into the window. It took me about twenty minutes to find the safe and another fifteen minutes to open it. I was in and out of the estate in less than two hours,” he remarked with minor self-gratification.
“You are very lucky, my young friend,” Denton responded.
Erik gave a shark-like grin. “I believe that we make our own luck, Mr. Denton. This ‘luck’ was the result of careful planning and surveillance, and a disgruntled servant.” Erik reached for a stack of photographs and papers. “Here's what our friend has been hiding in his bedroom safe.” He pushed several photographs toward Denton.
Denton carefully studied the pictures of ledger pages, references to offshore bank accounts, bank statements and other various financial references that had been meticulously photographed.
“What are these papers?” Denton asked.
“Letters,” Erik responded evasively. “Let's just say I figured you'd like another ace in the hole during your dealings with our friend.”
Denton took one of the letters and started reading, then another. He put the other letter down, digesting the information.
“This is perfect.” Denton's face adopted a wolfish grin as he gathered up the photographs and letters to put them in his briefcase.
“How are you going to use that? You know you can't introduce it in court; it wasn't exactly obtained by legal means,” Erik inquired. “He'll realize that the letters are missing, eventually; but judging from the dates on the letters, the affair ended over a year ago.”
“You're right, of course,” Denton answered, “but I can mention that we have knowledge of potential evidence, both professional and personal—enough to make them nervous. Even the threat of a financial subpoena would serve our purpose in this case. Even though we can't claim enough here for a judicial decision, there's enough incriminating documentation to make them settle. Plus, if word of an extra marital affair leaked out, the negative publicity would cause more damage to his lily-white image than he could afford. It would save our clients a great deal of time and money—”
“And increase your firm's profit margin by eliminating the costs involved in a trial,” Erik interrupted.
“There's that too.” Denton nodded in agreement as he finished gathering his evidence.
As he opened his briefcase, he pulled out a letter-size envelope and tossed it onto the table in Erik's direction. Erik smiled slightly and placed the envelope in the duffel bag next to him.
“You're not going to count it?” Denton asked.
“Mr. Denton, I've done four contracts for you in the past eighteen months, and you've honored the terms of each one. I will not insult you by counting payment—in front of you, that is.” Erik smiled another half smile. “We should almost trust each other at this point.”
The old man paused, considering Knight's words, and then laughed aloud. “Mr. Knight, I do indeed like your style.” He laid down a large roll of hundred dollar bills onto the table. “Consider this a bonus for another job well done.”
* * * *
Erik nodded toward Denton and escorted him to the hallway. He watched through a small window as Denton and the man accompanying him departed the diner. Erik picked up the roll of bills and counted out thirty, one hundred-dollar bills. He took twenty of the bills and tucked them into his wallet, and then palmed the other ten. He carefully removed his gun vest and placed it into a small wall safe. The detective gathered up the envelope from his contract and headed toward the main room of the diner. Erik walked up to a tall middle-aged man with wavy blonde and gray hair.