Morgan kept her pistol aimed at the dire wolf. Her gaze shifted to him, then back to the wolf. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Let me get back to you on that.” He brandished the axes like weapons. Like it or not, the situation called for patience, not power.
He’d fended off wolves in the past. The trick was to establish dominance, usually by yelling, throwing rocks, and making oneself as large as possible. But this wolf, well, it was a different story.
According to Morgan, the 1-Gen sabers and woolly mammoths had come out of their incubators violent and thirsty for blood. And the 2-Gen creatures had shown similar characteristics. With the exception of the short-faced bear, they’d fought almost mindlessly. Like rabid animals, they’d attacked anything with a pulse. So, there was every reason to expect the same thing from the dire wolf.
Last time, Pearson had driven it off with gunfire. But that was right after it came out of the incubator and before its recent growth spurt. This time, Caplan suspected, would be different.
This time it would fight to the death.
And that made it especially hard to forgo his rifle. Unfortunately, gunfire would attract too much attention. The last thing he needed was for the rest of the 1-Gen newborns, drawn by the loud noise, to come sniffing around.
The dire wolf snarled and bared its teeth. Its paws scraped the ground. Then it sprinted forward.
“Zach…” Morgan’s gun hand quivered and she took a step backward.
“Don’t shoot.” Caplan whirled the axes in his hands. “And don’t turn your back on it.”
The wolf’s black legs pumped furiously, blending in and out of the darkness. Its golden coat turned into a blur of shifting, twitching muscles.
Caplan ignored the creature’s sharp, gnashing teeth. Instead, he zeroed in on its legs.
Fifteen feet out, the creature’s gait began to change. It ran another five feet before launching itself into the air. Its orangish eyes blazed holes in Caplan’s face. Its jaws snapped wildly, eager to bite, to kill.
But Caplan was ready and sidestepped the attack. As the wolf hurtled past him, he slashed its side with the left axe. The blade struck hard and unexpected reverberations shot through Caplan’s arm. It felt like he’d chopped at concrete rather than flesh and bone. Even worse, the blow did little damage, opening the smallest of slits in the wolf’s tough hide.
The wolf twisted in mid-air before smacking to the ground. Its head curled sideways, toward Caplan. Its jaws snapped at him, narrowly missing his legs.
Still clutching his axes, Caplan leapt on top of the creature. The dire wolf squirmed out from under him and bit his leg. Caplan clamped his mouth shut, barely avoiding a scream. Okay, that does it, he thought. You don’t mess with the Holocene.
Caplan adjusted and pinned down the wolf. Then he dropped the axes, pushed its snout to the ground, and wrapped his arms around the creature’s head. Leaning back, he squeezed with all his might.
The wolf, snarling and yipping, struggled to escape the headlock. But Caplan maintained a vice-like grip. “The axes.” He looked at Morgan. “Kill it.”
Morgan stuck the pistol into her waistband and hurried to his side. She picked up the axes and hesitated. “How?”
The dire wolf wriggled and snapped its jaws. It took all of Caplan’s strength to hold it down. “Just do it!”
Morgan’s right arm reared back. Seconds later, she sent the axe slamming into the creature. The blow opened a small cut on its belly. But it also jolted her and she slipped, falling to the ground.
Frowning, she scrambled back to her feet. Using shorter strokes, she attacked the cut, causing it to widen and deepen.
As its blood began to flow freely, the wolf’s movements turned frantic. Caplan, in turn, dug deep into his reserves and managed to keep his grip on the creature’s head.
The dire wolf’s movements grew even more frantic. But it quickly began to lose energy. And after another two minutes of steady blows, it finally died in Caplan’s arms.
Morgan dropped the axes and fell to her knees, physically spent. Caplan released the wolf’s limp head and stretched his sore arms. Then he gathered up his axes, rifle, and backpack.
Morgan took a few long breaths of air. Then she stood up again, clutching the bandages on her side. Her blonde hair, soaked with sweat and grime, hung limply from her head. Her eyes looked distant and sad.
“First time?” Caplan asked quietly.
She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Caplan knew how she felt. He’d killed animals in the past, always for food or to protect himself. But that didn’t make it any easier. Every time he took a life, he felt a little piece of himself disappear with it.
But come to think of it, that wasn’t entirely true. He had no problem swatting flies or squashing spiders. If he was completely honest with himself, he cared mostly about mammals and maybe birds. Fishes, reptiles, and amphibians were still important, but less so. Invertebrates were at the bottom of his list. Where did the dire wolf, this violent creation of modern science, fit into things? He wasn’t sure.
He reached for Morgan. She hesitated for a moment before accepting his embrace. They hugged fiercely, allowing months of frustration, guilt, and anger to melt away. And when they finally parted, Caplan felt renewed, reenergized. As if he could take on the entire Pleistocene epoch by himself.
Morgan approached the carcass with some trepidation. Gently, she kicked its legs with the toe of her shoe, drawing it out to its full length. “Are you sure its larger?” she asked.
Caplan nodded.
“I believe you, but I don’t see how it’s possible. We programmed all incubators to grow animals to their full sizes. And based on the video feeds, the sabers and mammoths haven’t grown a bit since expulsion. Unless…” She blinked. Her eyes widened as if she were awaking from a deep sleep.
“What?” Caplan asked.
“My colleagues and I developed the science for de-extinction, but we didn’t physically control it. For security purposes, the Lab’s guard contingent managed all systems, including the ones dealing with expulsion.”
“So?”
“So, I always thought it was more of a formality than anything else. But I suppose it’s possible they used their position to conduct secret experiments with the incubators. They could’ve administered hormone injections, maybe even altered genes.”
“And you let them get away with that?”
“I didn’t let them get away with anything,” she retorted. “I’m just saying it could’ve happened. And come to think of it, it could’ve happened to the sabers and woolly mammoths, too. The guards inserted various microchips into their bodies. It’s possible those chips could be used to stimulate hormones or do any number of things via radio waves.”
“So, injections or microchips could explain the growth. Maybe the crazy violence, too.” Caplan exhaled. “Theoretically speaking, how large could 1- and 2-Gens grow?”
“Mammals evolved to enormous sizes in order to fill the ecological niche left by dinosaurs. In order words, they didn’t stop growing because they reached some kind of biomechanical restraint. They only stopped because of a warming climate and the amount of food available to them. With 1- and 2-Gens, those things might not be a factor, at least not at first.” She took a deep breath. “In other words, the sky’s the limit.”
Chapter 52
The crackling sound, louder than a siren, reverberated through the forest, ping-ponging from tree to tree. Mills winced, but didn’t look backward. Instead, she stared straight ahead and kept up a steady pace, wincing every time her bare feet touched the pine needles.