Mega 4: Behemoth Island (11 page)

BOOK: Mega 4: Behemoth Island
6.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Sorry, sugar buns of sexy love!” Max replied, his voice echoing back from the corridor. “Maxey need smokey tokey or Maxey gonna explodey splodey!”

“You sleep with that?” Mike chuckled.

“See, right there,” Boris began. “One’s physical and romantic connections are highly complex as well—”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Ballantine interrupted. “We get it. People are weirdos and pervs. Now, let’s move on. Ronald? What do you have for us?”

“Not much, Ballantine,” Ronald replied. “As I have only had about forty-five minutes to accomplish any work while all of you have crowded around in here, making spectacular distractions of yourselves.”

Ballantine gave everyone an exaggerated “yikes” look then grinned. “Our apologies.”

“For the fucking record, this is my lab,” Gunnar said. “I get to be as distracting as I want.”

“However,” Ronald continued, ignoring Ballantine and Gunnar. “I have been able to determine that the intruders were human at one point.”

“Were?” Gunnar asked. “What are they now?”

“A genetic soup of human, Cro-Magnon, and Neanderthal,” Ronald said.

“Croanderthals,” Mike said from a seat in the corner.

“Not a name I would choose,” Ronald said. “But it does fit considering the mix of species. The only reason I am able to tell you the mix at all is because I do have extensive experience in identifying all three genetic codes. Even with the limited equipment our less than operational lab contains, I could see right away that these former people went through some type of accelerated mutating process.”


M
y
less than operational lab,” Gunnar muttered.

“Accelerated mutating process?” Boris asked. He moved next to Ronald and looked excitedly at the microscope. “May I?”

“Of course,” Ronald said and stepped aside.

Most everyone went back to hanging their heads and trying to pretend they didn’t feel like hammered shit. Ballantine stood in the middle of the lab, checked his watch, looked to the hatchway then over to Boris and Ronald. Finally, he glowered at Darby.

“I’ll go get him,” she said and left.

“Gentlemen?” Ballantine asked Ronald and Boris. “Can we continue?”

“I’m afraid there isn’t much more I can tell you,” Ronald said. “Like I said before, the lab—”

“Don’t,” Gunnar warned, holding up his middle finger.

“The human capacity for rudeness is mind boggling,” Ronald muttered.

“Be that is it may, my capacity for patience has run out,” Ballantine said. He clapped his hands loudly and everyone jumped, even Ronald. “Time to get to work, folks! Rest time is over! I need to know what we are dealing with and I need to know now! Dealing with dinosaurs is one thing, but mutated humans that can think and reason enough to steal a Zodiac and then come attack the B3 is a whole other matter. A matter I am not cool with.”

There were a few groans. Ballantine clapped again. Louder.

“Jesus, stop that,” Gunnar complained.

“Gunnar, Lisa, Boris, and Ronald,” Ballantine said, addressing the scientists in the room. “You will be working around the clock to figure out what the hell went wrong with these people. I want to know everything about them, especially why they wanted our ship.”

“How the hell will we find that out?” Gunnar asked, pointing at the corpses. “Can’t really ask them.”

“That sounds like an excuse, Dr. Peterson,” Ballantine replied. “Do you think I like excuses?” He opened his eyes wide and leaned towards Gunnar then said in an exaggerated whisper, “I do not. Nope. Not a fan of excuses.”

“I will make sure we get as many answers as we can with the resources we have,” Ronald said.

“Will you shut the fuck up about my lab?” Gunnar snapped.

Ballantine pointed at Gunnar. “Do I need to put you in time out?”

Gunnar only sputtered, unable to form a response.

“Good,” Ballantine nodded. “Play nice, science folks. I have to attend to other matters. Mike?”

“What did I do?” Mike asked.

“Why does everyone think I’m reprimanding them when I call their name?” Ballantine sighed. “When we finally get a chance to rest and relax, I am calling a family meeting.”

No one responded.

“That’s a joke,” Ballantine said. He pointed at Mike. “You are coming with me to the Toyshop. We’re going to kick the elves into high gear. Containment nets and exploding rounds are not good enough. We need serious firepower if we’re going to rescue our friends.”

“You think they’re still alive?” Mike asked. Gunnar whipped his head about and glared. “What? It is a valid question, Gun. Very valid.”

“Very valid, indeed,” Ballantine agreed. “And yes, I do think they are still alive. I have the utmost confidence in Team Grendel. They are all survivors, each and every one of them. But, survivors or not, I am also confident that they could use some assistance.”

“What kind of firepower are we talking about?” Mike asked as he got up and followed Ballantine out of the lab.

“Whatever firepower they have,” Ballantine said. “As long as it’s big.”

“I like it big,” Mike said.

“That’s what he said!” Boris cried out, turning and grinning at everyone. No one grinned back. “I thought it was funny.”

He was met with Gunnar’s hungover frown and extended middle finger.

 

***

 

The surface was cool, but rough against Kinsey’s cheek. It took her several long seconds before she was able to drag herself up into consciousness and realize she was lying down and her face was pressed against rock. She moaned and rolled over slowly, her head protesting and her stomach lurching at the small movement.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” a voice said. “Hold still there.”

Kinsey’s eyes shot open and she scrambled as far away from the voice as she could. Her back jammed against more cold stone and she felt pain everywhere. Before she could get a look at who spoke to her, Kinsey’s stomach rebelled and she turned her head and vomited. Only thin liquid came up, mostly yellow bile, and she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before trying to focus once more on the voice.

“Who are you? Where am I?” she asked.

“You don’t remember?” Dr. Logan asked, sitting on an upturned log close to a small, guttering flame that seemed to be coming right off the rock wall next to him. “Dr. Will Logan. I found you by th
e
Brocchinia gargantu
a
? Does that ring a bell?”

“Bronchitis plant, right,” Kinsey said, but she didn’t relax. “You were hiding in the bushes. Showed up when that thing puked me out.”

“Yes, that is an apt description,” Dr. Logan replied. “By the way, how did you get it to, uh, puke you out?”

“Containment net,” Kinsey said. “I burned its belly.”

“This?” Dr. Logan asked. He held up the containment net’s black box. “Interesting device. It is no longer operational, unfortunately. It would be handy to have in this environment. You wouldn’t happen to have another, would you?”

“Not on me,” Kinsey said.

The two fell silent as Kinsey studied the man.

In his early forties, or maybe late thirties, Dr. Logan was handsome, but in a soft way. He didn’t have a rugged bone about him, yet he looked like he could take on a challenge or two. There was something in his eyes, how they bore into Kinsey and shone with the promise of knowledge or the promise of adventure finding the knowledge. He reminded her of a mix between Darren and Gunnar.

But there was something else there, as well. Something…

“Can I check your vitals?” Dr. Logan asked, pulling Kinsey from her thoughts. He held up a stethoscope. “Just want to make sure you’re on the mend. Th
e
Brocchinia gargantua nectar isn’t something we take for granted around here.”

“Where is here?” Kinsey asked, her eyes studying her surroundings quickly before locking back on Dr. Logan. “Is this a cave? Am I in a cave?”

“Yes, you are in a cave,” Dr. Logan said. “And you are safe. No one here wants to hurt you. Quite the opposite. We need you to help us.”

“Help you? How?” Kinsey asked.

“Help us get the hell off this island,” Dr. Logan said. “It stopped being a place of discovery a long time ago and is now just a place of nightmares. I would like to leave these nightmares.”

“No shit,” Kinsey laughed dryly. “Who is us? How many of you are there?”

Dr. Logan set the stethoscope aside. “Military. Of course. I guess I need to go through an examination from you before I can be allowed to do my own examination of you. I have met more than a few soldiers for hire in my day and every last one of you has trust issues.” He filled the cave with his own dry laugh. “Which is ironic since you are trained to obey orders without question. What mind is conditioned that way?”

“I have trust issues for a lot of reasons, not because I’m military,” Kinsey said. “And I’m not a soldier for hire.”

“You aren’t?” Dr. Logan asked, looking Kinsey up and down. “Then what branch of the military are you with? I’d say Special Operations Forces, but I’m not familiar with your uniform. Is that some type of chain mail?”

Kinsey looked down and was surprised to see her compression suit still on. Dr. Logan grinned at that surprise.

“If I was a bad guy, I’m pretty sure I would have stripped that off you,” Dr. Logan said. “If for no reason other than to put you in a compromising position of weakness. Nudity tends to undermine aggression, in my experience.”

“I was a Marine. I could give two shits about being naked,” Kinsey said. “Cocks out and all that shit.”

Dr. Logan raised an eyebrow.

“No, I do not have a cock,” Kinsey said.

“Good to know,” Dr. Logan responded. “I have seen stranger things on this island.”

“Who is the us?” Kinsey asked again.

“There is myself, Dr. Harley Werth, and Dr. Lucas Sales,” Dr. Logan said.

Kinsey waited, but when Dr. Logan didn’t add any names she shook her head. “That’s it? Three of you?”

“That’s it,” Dr. Logan replied. “Three of us. We recently had a fourth, but he’s been missing a while. I’m not holding out hope.”

“Are you all that survived the explosion?” Kinsey asked.

Dr. Logan grimaced and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well, that is hard to explain.”

“Try me,” Kinsey insisted.

“How about this,” Dr. Logan proposed. “You ask a question, I give an answer, then I take a reading. I need to check your heart, your lungs, make sure you don’t have any cerebral damage—”

“Do I sound like I have cerebral damage?” Kinsey asked. Her head hurt like ten kinds of split fuck, but she wasn’t going to admit that. “No deals. You answer my questions. If I decide not to kick your ass when you’re done then I’ll let you examine me.”

“What if you die while asking your questions?” Dr. Logan responded. “Which is a very likely outcome considering what you have been through.”

“If I was going to die then I would have died,” Kinsey said. “Trust me. I’ve woken up from more near death experiences than I can even remember.”

“Overdoses,” Dr. Logan said. It was a statement, not a question. “That’s the survivor I’m looking at. I thought you had more going on than just a grunt.”

“You don’t like military, do you?” Kinsey asked.

“Not really,” Dr. Logan admitted and held up a hand. “I have my reasons, trust me. But those reasons are personal and off limits. You want to ask questions then ask questions about this island, not about my past.”

Kinsey pursed her lips and struggled with the hundred snarky, personal questions that came to mind. She focused on one, unable to just blindly obey the man.

“Were you a junkie too?” she asked.

Dr. Logan grinned and nodded. “How could you tell?”

“You recognized me,” Kinsey replied. “Takes one to know one.”

“That it does,” Dr. Logan said.

Kinsey sat there and thought for a minute then extended her arm.

“Come and do your poking and prodding,” Kinsey said. “But I am going to ask you a fuck ton of questions while you do.”

“That works for me,” Dr. Logan said as he grabbed his stethoscope again and stood up. “But no poking and prodding. Just listening.”

“I’m keeping this suit on,” Kinsey insisted. “So you better be able to listen through this.”

“I can,” Dr. Logan said. “I’ve checked you a couple times since we brought you here. Sorry if that breaks any consent issues you may have, but I’m claiming Hippocratic oath and basic human decency on that one.”

“Then your answers better be really good,” Kinsey said. “Or I kick your ass.”

Dr. Logan paused. “I have the feeling you are only half kidding.”

“I have the feeling I’m not kidding at all,” Kinsey replied, but there was a small smile teasing her lips.

“Yes, well, we’ll leave that statement there for now,” Dr. Logan said.

He had a small smile teasing his lips as well, but the way it didn’t meet his eyes troubled Kinsey slightly. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she had a distinct feeling that ex-junkie may not have been correct. The guy smelled like he was still using. But usin
g
wha
t
was what Kinsey couldn’t figure out.

Other books

Lisa Shearin - Raine Benares 01 by Magic Lost, Trouble Found
The Patriot's Fate by Alaric Bond
Shaken by Heather Long
Sealed In by Druga, Jacqueline
Tango in Paradise by Donna Kauffman
Dark Beach by Ash, Lauren
Trapped in Ice by Eric Walters