Caplan beckoned at her to continue.
“I still remember watching one of those feeds. The helicopter hovering above the clearing, swinging in a slow circle. Those two goons rolling people out the cabin door. The helicopter taking off. And then stillness.” She shuddered. “At first, I thought James was disposing of corpses. And that was horrible enough. But when those people started to move, my jaw hit the floor. And when the saber-toothed cats — the same ones I’d help create — closed in for the kill, I lost it.” Her eyes glittered with anger. “My work, Zach. He used my work to kill people. I couldn’t let that stand.”
“But why this?” Caplan waved his hand in an effort to encompass the rebellion. “Why not just go public?”
“What do you think we’re trying to do? You know as well as anyone how tight security is around here. Nothing — and I mean nothing — is allowed to leave the premises. So, I had no way of sneaking those feeds out of Hatcher. And without evidence, it would just be my word against the entire Corbotch Empire.”
“I see,” he said slowly. “So, the only way to reach the public was through the Lab’s communications equipment.”
She nodded. “Bonnie, Zlata, and I brought others into the fold, one at a time. We decided to make our move on June 18 and began prepping for it.”
“Why June 18? Because of the dignitaries?”
“You know about them?” Morgan frowned, then nodded. “Of course. James told you. Yes, they had something to do with it. We knew he’d do just about anything to end our little revolt. But we figured a few high-value hostages might give us a little bargaining power.”
“Who are the dignitaries anyway? Why are they here?”
“Honestly, I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Nor do I care.”
Caplan considered everything she’d told him for a moment. “Aren’t you afraid of what might happen to this place once you go public? Aren’t you worried the authorities will shut you down, confiscate your research?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “Especially with mass extinction so close at hand. That’s why my colleagues and I have decided to take our knowledge elsewhere, to anyone who will listen. We’ll even pool our resources and go it alone if necessary.”
“There’s one thing I don’t understand.” Caplan’s brain worked in overdrive as he tried to connect Morgan’s version of Corbotch with the man he knew. “Why bother with a killing field? If he’s got enemies, why not just hire assassins? Or better yet, why not just bury them under mountains of lawsuits and bad publicity? Isn’t that how the super-wealthy usually settle their grudges?”
“Because he’s a sick bastard?” She shrugged. “I really don’t know.”
Caplan wondered about it for a moment. But ultimately, he decided he didn’t need an answer. He could see the truth now. He could see how Corbotch had hoodwinked him into coming to Hatcher on false pretenses. “There’s something you need to know,” he said. “I lied before.”
She frowned. “About what?”
“We didn’t come in one helicopter. We came in two. The Blaze crashed in 48A. Everyone died, either from the impact or from animal attacks. Probably 1-Gens, now that I think about it. But the second chopper — the one I flew in — landed safely.” He thought about Corbotch and Perkins, about how they were probably surrounded by ferocious 1-Gen animals at that very moment. Unless, that is, they were already dead. “Three people landed with me. I lost track of Julius Pearson outside Hatcher. The other two — Derek Perkins and James Corbotch — stayed with the chopper.”
“James is here?” Her eyes cinched to slits. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“You mean while you were pistol-whipping me?”
Her gaze softened and she took a deep breath. Then she clutched her waist and rose slowly, painfully to her feet.
Caplan stood up, ignoring his burning joints and bones. Walking around the table, he helped steady her. “You need more rest.”
“What I need is to tell the others about James. If we catch him, maybe we can end this.” Turning around, she limped toward the door.
Caplan slipped his right shoulder under her left one. His right hand snaked around her waist, taking care not to touch her wound. “Those incubators in the Lab — I saw a whole bunch just like them on my way here.”
“I’m not surprised. For reasons I still don’t understand, James took the unopened 1-Gens to 48A.”
“How many did you originally make?”
“Dozens. We only initiated expulsion sequences on fourteen of them, mostly saber-toothed cats and woolly mammoths. After seeing how violent they were, we wrote off the rest of 1-Gen.”
“Did you make something called Canis dirus?”
She nodded. “Why?”
“I, uh, sort of cut one free.”
“And you survived?”
“Not without help.” He wondered about that, wondered why Pearson had saved him from the creature.
“Canis dirus is the scientific name for dire wolf. It was one of the fiercest predators in history until it died out some ten to 11,000 years ago.” Morgan’s eyes turned hazy and unclear. “What was the incubator like when you found it?”
“I already told you. It looked like the ones in the Lab.”
“I mean what was it doing? Was it still? Quiet?”
He shook his head. “It was quaking and throbbing like a virgin on prom night. And the little black box beneath it was making noise too. This weird thumming sound.”
“The other incubators… were they acting the same way?”
He nodded.
Her eyes closed, then reopened. “One of the guards initiated a full expulsion sequence. I wasn’t sure if it reached the unopened 1-Gens. But I guess it did.” She paused. “The amount of energy must’ve been tremendous. Did you notice any weird phenomena?”
Caplan recalled the Blare. “You could say that.”
“That’s… ooohhh…” Morgan’s legs crumpled under her. Only Caplan’s support kept her from collapsing to the floor. “I don’t feel so hot.”
“What’s the matter?”
“My head… it’s like mush. My skin is burning up.” She broke out into shivers. “Can’t see real well either.”
“It must be that wound.” Still propping her up, he hurried to the door. “Help,” he shouted. “Get Dr. Adnan.”
No one answered his shout and Caplan cursed under his breath. Of course. The stupid walls had blocked his shout. He’d nearly forgotten about Hatcher’s extra-thick walls. He’d appreciated them during his tenure. But now, they infuriated him.
With his free hand, he grabbed the knob and twisted it. A hard push sent the door flying on its hinges.
“Dr. Adnan,” he yelled. “Where…?” His voice trailed off. A dumbfounded expression crossed his visage, followed by one of sheer horror.
Two-dozen people lay in the Heptagon, their limbs askew. Flashlights were scattered about the floor, casting light upon the corpses. So, he could see their eyes were moist and glassy. Foam dripped from their purple lips. A few of them clutched their throats with fingers that had grown stiff from rigor mortis.
“They’re dead.” Caplan winced. The bodies smelled like spoiled meat, laced with cheap perfume. “But you said HA-78 didn’t exist. So, how…?”
“I don’t know the how, but I know the who.” Morgan’s fingers curled into fists. “James did this.”
Chapter 42