“Easy, lady.” The man’s voice wavered with fear and regret. His gaze, tight and focused, swept the clearing. “You need to listen to me—”
“Where is he?” Mills shouted, not caring who heard her. “Where’s James?”
“Right here.”
Fury engulfed Mills as she twisted toward the voice. She saw an old man, decked out in a gray sport coat and tailored white shirt. He looked cool and collected, the exact opposite of how she felt at that moment.
“It’s good to see you again, Bailey.” James Corbotch smiled. “Welcome to the Vallerio.”
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Mills’ brain worked in overdrive, reminding her of all she and the others had endured. She wanted to scream at Corbotch, to make threats she’d never be able to carry out. But try as she might, just one word managed to squeak past her grimy lips. “Why?”
Corbotch cast his gaze upon Mills before shifting it to the approaching Toland and Elliott. “Because you were threats.”
“To what?” Toland sneered. “Your precious ego?”
If Corbotch was angry, he didn’t show it. “To my work. To Apex Predator.”
Elliott gasped. Mills clutched the logbook a little closer to her side. She suddenly recalled where she’d heard the term Apex Predator before. Elliott had mentioned it back in the cave, calling it some kind of weird project taking place in the Vallerio.
The chopper door slid open and Mills saw the interior for the first time. It was jam packed with people, at least a dozen of them. They were all different. Men and women. Old and young. Tall and short. Different shades of skin color. It was truly a diverse group. But their attire, well, that was something else entirely.
The men wore silk suits, all of which were soiled, and expensive shoes. The women, who were mostly barefoot, wore formal cocktail dresses. The dresses were soaked through with mud and ripped in all sorts of places.
A stern woman with uncanny bird-like features climbed out of the helicopter. She cast a single glance at the growing wildfire. Then she limped quickly toward Corbotch, wincing with each step. “We need to go, James,” she said, with nary a glimpse at Mills or the others. “Now.”
Corbotch twisted his neck toward the curly-haired man. “Derek?”
“I need five minutes, sir,” Derek replied.
“Make it two.”
Why are you standing around like an idiot? Mills thought. This is your chance. Attack!
“Don’t even think about it,” a man said.
Mills whirled around and fixed her gaze upon a veritable giant of a man. He stood several inches above six feet and sported the impressive physique of a bodybuilder. As if that weren’t intimidating enough, he also carried a gigantic pistol.
“Ms. Mills, I’d like you to meet Julius Pearson,” Corbotch said. “My right-hand man.”
Pearson didn’t smile. Didn’t speak. Didn’t move an inch. He just stood like one of the Vallerio’s indomitable trees, aiming his gun directly at Mills’ chest.
Mills turned back to Corbotch, just in time to see the bird-like woman clamber back into the cabin. The woman struggled to find space in the crowded, standing-room only area before finally reclosing the door.
“Looks like a tight squeeze,” Toland remarked. “I don’t suppose you’ve got room for one more.”
One more? Mills thought. What an asshole!
Corbotch arched an eyebrow. “Ahh, Brian Toland.”
Toland puffed out his chest in pride. “So, you’ve heard of me.”
“Not you. Your research. My people tell me you’ve written a lengthy tome about my family.”
Toland’s chest sagged a bit before puffing out again. “What of it?”
“In the process, you dredged up some long-forgotten stories. Stories like the Dasnoe expedition, for instance. Stories that might draw renewed attention to the Vallerio.” Corbotch twisted toward Elliott. “And you’re Tricia Elliott, the president of Scrutiny. I take it Randi is no longer with us?”
Elliott’s eyes were dull, nearly vacant.
“The two of you spent the last few months building a lawsuit against the Vallerio Foundation,” Corbotch said. “You demanded access to all sorts of records. Records that could shed light on Apex Predator.”
Elliott didn’t respond. Instead, she just stood there, silent and unmoving.
Corbotch twisted back to Mills. “Travis?” he asked simply.
Mills’ fingers curled into fists.
Corbotch read her body language. “Travis was writing an exposé on the Vallerio Foundation. Specifically, about the impressive scientific minds we’ve managed to gather under one roof. His work would’ve thrust us into the spotlight. Experts might’ve even figured out what we were doing here.”
Mills glared at him.
“As for you, Ms. Mills, you wished to take what was rightfully mine.” Corbotch shrugged. “Alexander loved this land. He would’ve never sold an inch of it, especially to a mere logger like Daniel Mills. Even so, your documents posed significant risk to me. What if the courts decided to honor your claim? What if they took the Vallerio from me? I couldn’t let that happen. Not now. Not when I’m so close.”
Mills wanted to scream, but managed to keep her tone in a tight range. “So close to what?”
“Salvation.”
A roar reverberated through the clearing. The Vallerio’s density, along with the crackling flames, made it impossible to tell how far it had traveled. But the sound had force behind it. Force which staggered Mills to her core.
“That’s the saber,” Elliott whispered.
Corbotch gave her a sad smile and began to back toward the helicopter. “That, my dear, is my cue to exit. I wish you all the best. I—” Corbotch paused. His eyes flicked to Mills. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?” she asked.
He pointed at the logbook. “That.”
“Oh, this old thing?” Mills’ brain raced as she tried to figure a way out of the predicament. Her odds, she knew, were long. Corbotch had numbers and firepower. Her little group had torn-up feet, cuts and scrapes, and exhaustion in droves. But she couldn’t give up. If she wasn’t on that helicopter when it took off, she was as good as dead. “Just something I found in an old building.”
“What building? Did it look like a barn?” His eyes widened in realization. “That has to be it. The fire’s coming from that way.”
Mills merely smiled.
Corbotch’s coolness melted away. His facial features began to twitch. “What happened?”
“Hmm.” Mills rubbed her chin as if in deep thought. “You know, I don’t remember.”
Corbotch relaxed. His coolness came roaring back at full force. “Give me the book.”
The barn-like building and all its mysteries came flooding back to Mills. She wondered about the machines and the workers. She wondered about the strange wheels and the dead body. But most of all, she wondered why Corbotch cared about some old logbook.
“What’s it worth to you?” she asked.
Corbotch sighed, shifted his gaze. “Julius.”
Pearson jabbed his gun into Mills’ back, just below her shoulder blades. Immense pain shot through her body.
“Give me the book,” Corbotch repeated.
Fighting to keep the pain off her face, Mills stared straight into his cold, cold eyes. “Make me.”
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