Separation (14 page)

Allenby’s finger continued to twitch, and for
a moment it looked as though he would execute her, but then he
shook his head. “Never mind, it isn’t worth it,” he said as
Anastasia finished heaving and wiped her mouth. She slowly moved
back to the couch, her tail coiled around her body.

Once she was seated, Allenby took his finger
off the trigger and snapped his fingers. Instantly, two of the
machine-toting cockroach guards appeared. “Take them back to their
room,” he ordered. “Let them think about their plight. If they try
to escape, kill the female.”

Cold-blooded didn’t begin to describe this
nutcase, Harry thought as he got up and took Anastasia’s hand. The
guards silently ushered them back to the holding room and locked
them in. Once there, they perched on their cots. “Well, this is
another fine mess we’ve gotten ourselves into,” opined Anastasia as
she hugged her knees. “I wish there was a window I could squeeze
out of.”

“You’ll hurt the baby.”

She gave a brittle laugh. “Not this one. I
think she’ll be tough.”

Harry’s eyes grew round. “You think it’s a
girl?”

“I know it.”

Leaning against him, she whispered, “You
think we’re going to miss our flight?”

It seemed a foregone conclusion. Harry blew
out a deep breath and held her, wishing things could be different
and knowing there was no way out of here.

Perhaps twenty minutes later, one of the
guards came down and opened up. Machine gun at the ready, he
pointed it in Harry’s direction. “Our master wants you to begin
work. Come with me.”

Knowing in his heart that he’d never go along
with the program, Harry got up and walked out. The roach locked up
and rattled the door, as if to send a signal that escape was
futile. “Don’t worry,” Harry said as he left. “I’ll be fine.”

Anastasia gave him a hopeful nod and settled
back. The roach marched him along the corridor and up the stairs,
and they ended up in the same room as the one where Allenby had
revealed his plan. There, the leader waited, gun in hand, and he
gestured at the rear of the house. “Shall we get to work,
Harry?”

Harry said nothing and stood stock still.

Allenby thumbed back the safety and his
polite attitude disappeared. “Attitude is something I prize in all
my subjects. Your attitude could use some improvement. A bullet in
your leg might change your mind.”

“One day you won’t have that gun,” Harry
said, locking gazes with him and meaning every word. “And when that
day comes, you’d better hope you have something else than a well
prepared speech.”

The answer came with a silky smoothness. “I’m
always prepared. Now move!”

Allenby once more gestured toward the rear,
and this time Harry walked straight ahead. At the back of the house
was another room and he turned the knob, wondering what he’d
find.

Doing so revealed a small room that had been
converted into a lab. It had probably been a storage room of sorts
before, as a faint smell of linen hung in the air. The wooden walls
were old and somewhat warped, and the floorboards were also loose
and creaked every time he took a step. A small window with metal
bars on it allowed fresh air to enter.

However, what sat in one corner provoked
Harry’s sense of outrage. A metal cage housed Istvan, and the
little pig-man sat huddled up with a morose, lost expression on his
porcine face. “Did you have to put him there? He’s not an
animal!”

“Your definition of animal and mine differ
slightly,” Allenby said as he stepped cautiously into the room and
waved the gun to indicate all the equipment. “Do you like what you
see?”

The maniac hadn’t been kidding when he said
he’d spared no expense. The room housed a centrifuge, a DNA
analyzer and differentiator, numerous chemicals, and a number of
other useful scientific instruments guaranteed to make any
scientist envious. It also had a laptop and two memory sticks.
“It’s... pretty decent,” Harry said grudgingly.

“I thought you’d say that,” the reply came.
“Feel free to use the computer on the table. Yours, we already
destroyed, and don’t think about sending a message. The Internet
link won’t work, only the programs for medicine and DNA analysis.
The password is my last name.”

Harry then heard the click of the pistol’s
safety as it was thumbed back. A second later, he felt the cold
metal of the pistol’s barrel on his neck, and the next words he
heard chilled him. “You’re here to do research and only that. There
will be a guard posted outside the door. Remember, your life—and
your wife—both belong to me.”

The barrel withdrew, and the sound of a bolt
being thrown echoed over the room. Immediately, Harry wrenched the
door to the cage open in order to let Istvan out. “You’re okay,
right?”

The little pig-man rubbed his bottom and
stared at his former prison with distaste. “I am not pig, not yet.
What will you do?”

Harry opened the computer and booted it up.
“Run some more tests on you.” He leaned over to whisper, “Don’t
worry, I won’t tell them about your blood, but I need to make sure
of something.”

Ever since leaving the catacombs in Rome,
he’d been wondering why Istvan’s blood couldn’t be used in a
different manner. If a retrovirus could keep the devolution process
at bay, why not use the breakdown immunity-healing factor that
Istvan’s blood held? Harry was no hematologist, but he knew the
basics and they would have to be enough. Taking a vial and a
syringe, he asked Istvan to extend his arm.

“You want more blood?”

“Uh-huh.”

Reluctantly, Istvan put out his arm, and
Harry quickly withdrew a sample. He then analyzed it, ran some
calculations, and got to work. After a couple of hours, he had the
calculations ready and he saved it all on the memory sticks. That
one he placed in his pocket.

The computer’s clock read almost four in the
morning. Their flight was leaving at eight-thirty, and they had to
get out as soon as possible. Still, he wouldn’t leave without
Anastasia.

Fingers tired from typing, Harry leaned back
and massaged his shoulders. “I think this is the answer.”

He went to the door and knocked.

One of the guards opened up. Huge, with a
head like a bull’s and a body like a pro wrestler’s, he blinked
when Harry asked for another memory stick. “Why do you want this
thing?”

“To save the information,” Harry replied. “So
show a little initiative and get me one.”

It seemed to take a long time for the
information to filter through the other hybrid’s consciousness.
Finally, he nodded and turned away. The door closed. “Now, we
wait,” Harry said.

Istvan, who’d been sitting on the floor the
entire time and not uttering a word, shook his head. “Why do you
help this crazy man? You will give him the formula?”

“Not the one he wants,” Harry whispered, and
placed the second memory stick he’d used to save the information on
the table in plain sight. To mark it, he used a smear of blood on
the surface.

A slow smile spread across the pig-man’s
face. He understood.

Nothing to do but to wait... but then a
scratching sound came at the window. Curious, Harry walked over.
Leo perched on the ledge. “I follow you here,” he said in a soft
voice.

How in the hell had he been able to sneak
past the guards? “Didn’t anyone see you?”

“They look on ground, but they no look under.
Wait, I get you out.” He then jumped off the ledge.

A few seconds later, though, the sound of
tunneling got his attention. The sound grew louder, and then a
faint tapping sound came from under the floorboards a foot away
from where Harry stood. He carefully lifted it up and the furry
face of Leo appeared. “I tell you I can do this. This hole is big
enough for all to go.”

It was big enough, but there was no escaping,
not yet. Thinking fast, Harry ordered, “Take Istvan out of here.
Get to the airport. Leave without us if you have to, but get
going.”

Leo nodded and disappeared down the hole.
Istvan went to the opening, but turned back. “Harry, you must
come.”

“I can’t.” No way would he leave his wife
behind.

Once they’d gone, he waited ten minutes and
then banged on the door. “Hey, we got a rat control problem
here!”

The same guard who’d gotten the memory stick
message came on the run and didn’t bother to look anywhere but at
the hole in the ground. His carelessness allowed Harry to clobber
him. “Moron.”

Snatching up the machine gun, Harry studied
the bolt action for a moment and mentally geared up. Violence was
so not his thing, but he knew Allenby wouldn’t be afraid to use it.
Running downstairs, he found the door to the room open and a
cockroach leering at his wife. “Hey,” he said.

Mr. Cockroach turned around, a look of shock
on his ugly face. The shock gave way to surprise when Harry slammed
him on the forehead with the butt end of the machine gun and the
roach’s eyes rolled up in his head. Slowly, he slithered to the
floor.

“Time to go,” Anastasia said.

It was definitely time to go, and they fled
up the stairs, Harry in the lead. As they ran out of the house,
they heard a roar behind them. Allenby had discovered their escape
and was screaming at his guards to stop them. Bullets whizzed over
their heads and they ran for their lives, soon finding shelter in
the forest. The early morning chill was noticeable, but Harry
didn’t pay any attention to it.

“Hey, we made it,” Anastasia remarked,
panting slightly. “And I didn’t have to barf for a change.”

“How fast...”

Harry started to ask how long her pregnancy
was going to last, and then stopped. This was something no one had
ever encountered before. Cats’ pregnancies usually lasted around
two months, but Anastasia was half human and...

She pinched his arm. “Let’s get going.”

Right, escape first and think about the
gestation period later. They made their way across the countryside,
but had to stop and rest every so often. “I wish we had some
transportation,” he said.

“Keep walking,” Anastasia motioned with her
hand and pointed in the direction of where they had to go.

It seemed like the best idea, and they made
their way through the countryside, hugging the land and keeping
watch for any of Allenby’s goon squad. Sniffing the air, Harry
caught the scent of flowers, animal droppings, but no man-made
animal smells surfaced.

They continued on, and just as fatigue set
in, they caught a lucky break. Harry found an open car with keys
dangling from the ignition. “Start her up,” said Anastasia as she
squeezed into the passenger seat.

He turned the key, the engine caught, and
Harry made for the airport as fast as possible. By the time he got
there, the sky had gotten a lot lighter, and he estimated it was
around eight in the morning.

At the edge of the airport, they saw a
familiar figure skulking around on all fours. It was Leo, and he
perked up once he saw them and scampered over. “It is good to see
you,” he said. “We have plane waiting. Follow me.”

He’d tunneled under the fence and made a
passageway large enough for them to squeeze through. Emerging on
the other side, they stood at the edge of the tarmac. “Over there,”
Leo pointed.

A small plane was taxiing down runway number
seven, and it stopped a hundred meters away. “Looks like our ride’s
here,” Anastasia remarked.

The hatchway swung open and the figure who
popped his head out was none other than Agent Overton. He clutched
his injured shoulder, and his face looked as though he’d been
trampled by a herd of crazed elephants, but he waved, anyway and
yelled, “Get on! The ride’s leaving!”

It didn’t take much more than that to spur
the three to action. Harry scooped up Leo in his arms while
Anastasia took the lead and boarded first. A few of the airport
security and maintenance staff stopped to stare, but Harry paid
them no mind as he raced up the stairs and into the plane. Once
there, Overton closed the hatch.

“Time to go,” he said as he went forward to
talk to the pilot. “Grab a seat.”

Harry placed Leo in a seat where the mole-man
promptly fell asleep. Taking a good look at him, he thought he
seemed to have gotten smaller and his animal features stood out
more prominently.

Devolution was beginning, and now it became a
matter of doing the math in order to figure out how long he had
before he devolved completely. In some cases, the subjects retained
their ability to speak. Anastasia had. Harry wasn’t so sure about
the others.

In the far seat, Istvan lay sleeping and
snoring, the remains of an empty bag of sausages beside him. Weary
beyond belief, yet relieved, Harry collapsed into his own spot.
Anastasia nestled beside him and hung on as the plane gathered
speed, raced down the runway and took off toward home—and
freedom.

Overton returned long enough to ask them how
they were. “Tired, hungry, and shot at, not in that order,” Harry
answered. “How’s your shoulder?”

A sour look greeted his question. “I’ll make
it. You’re lucky Jason and Maze were still monitoring your
transponders. We tried sending a message, but your computer wasn’t
working.”

Harry attempted an explanation, but
exhaustion had already set in and he settled for, “It’s
complicated.”

Overton gave a brief nod. “Life is
complicated, kid.”

Kid... he’s getting his cues from
Farrell.
A brief sense of guilt hit Harry hard in the feels
department and he vowed to visit his mentor once they returned. He
wanted to say “Yeah, it is, and I’m not a kid,” but nothing came
out. He did manage to nod once.

The gesture wasn’t lost on Overton who
flashed a rare smile. “Well, settle back. We’ll have a debriefing
once we return and the four of you get some rest.”