He nodded at Cahill and Walker. They ran up to the nearest gate and pulled out the reciprocating saws they’d been carrying on ropes under their jackets. Each was equipped with a blade intended for metal use. While the two men went to work cutting through the mesh, the others split their attention between watching the parking lot and keeping an eye on the inside area beyond the gate.
“We’re at our entrance now,” Gabriel said into his mic. “Team B and C, status?”
“Team B, at our gate, almost through.”
Gabriel waited. After a few seconds of silence, he said, “Team C?”
“Sorry,” the leader of Team C said. “Had a little problem with one of the guards. Taken care of now. We’re still on the way to ours, but should be there in the next two minutes.”
The basic goal of the mission was to free the prisoners and cause Project Eden as much trouble as possible. The wish-list goal was a complete takeover of the facility. The next several minutes would decide which one they’d accomplish.
“Done,” Cahill said.
He and Walker pulled out the freed section of mesh and dropped it on the ground. Two volunteers from Isabella Island hoisted another former island resident — a short and sinewy woman — through the hole to the other side. Once she was clear, one of the saws was passed through, and she made quick work of the chain holding the gate closed.
As Team A hurried into the stadium, Gabriel tapped his mic again. “We’re in.”
Between the two sets of outfield bleachers was a wide concrete wedge running from the center-field wall to the outer wall of the stadium. Ben crossed it in no time and moved along the perimeter fence, looking for a way out.
The only gates he found were locked solid. He spent a few precious moments searching for something to pry one open, but there was nothing in his immediate vicinity.
They would have to go over the top. Not the ideal situation, but better than staying here.
As he turned to head back to the others, a gunshot boomed across the playing field.
Dr. Lawrence was the first out of the dugout and onto the field. Not waiting for Rivera to catch up, she raced past the non-sick holding area and into the outfield. As soon as she hit the end of the fence, she angled her path toward the back of the immune pen.
When she spotted the ditch dug under the gate, she muttered, “Unbelievable.” She turned toward the outfield wall just in time to see the two sections of walls pushed shut. She raised her 9mm pistol and pulled the trigger twice. Thankfully, no screams came from the other side. She needed the prisoners alive.
She ran to the wall and shoved the left half open. In the lit up area beyond the gate, she could see the immune survivors running toward the back fence. If they made it over, her chances of getting them all back would be slim.
She sprinted through the opening, halted ten feet in, and pointed her gun at the escapees. “Stop where you are or I will shoot!” she yelled.
Only those in the back heeded her order.
She moved her barrel just left of the runners and fired off a shot, then quickly did the same on the right.
That stopped them. Even the guy straddling the top of the fence froze, looking at her.
Ben Bowerman, she realized. Their newest inductee.
“Mr. Bowerman, I advise you to climb back down. On this side of the fence, please. If not, one of your friends here will pay the price.”
The kid hesitated for a moment before pulling his leg back over and dropping to the ground.
“Thank you,” she said.
Behind her, she heard Rivera arrive, breathing heavily. “You got them,” he said, sounding both surprised and pleased.
“Why are you doing this?” one of the girls asked. “You’re supposed to be helping us.”
Lawrence smirked. “If you’re running then you already know that’s not true. So let’s not pretend anymore.” She raised her voice. “Everyone line up! Now!”
“What are you going to do with us?” another girl asked.
“You’re lucky we haven’t killed you on the spot,” Rivera said. “Now do as Dr. Lawrence said. Line up!”
“You see this?” Cahill asked.
“Yeah. I see it,” Gabriel said.
The failed escapees began forming a single line. All except for Bowerman. He walked toward the two doctors and didn’t stop until he was only ten feet away.
“Please, let us go,” he said. “We’re a small group. We promise we’ll disappear and never cause you any problems.”
“Really?” Lawrence said. She nodded past him at the fence. “I believe you and your friends out there already have.”
He looked confused. “What friends?”
“That’s enough. Get in line.”
“No, wait. At least let them go. I’ll stay. It was my idea to try to escape.”
“Is that so?” she said. “Under normal circumstances, that might have changed things, but unfortunately we need more than one test subject.”
“Test subject?”
She smiled and raised her pistol, pointing it at Ben’s head. “But I guess I don’t need all of you.”
She was going to pull the trigger, knew that beyond a doubt, had even started to apply the pressure. But the next thing she knew she was on the ground, trying to fill her lungs with air, but unable to do so. The pain came next, a visceral, scorching pain.
Her hand found the wound on her chest and came away covered with blood.
How…? What…? Tired. So damn tired.
She remembered the prisoners and tried to grab for the gun that seemed to have fallen from her hands. All she could manage, though, was to twist enough so she could see Rivera. He, too, was on the ground, but the top of his head seemed to be missing.
So tired.
She closed her eyes, thinking she’d rest for a second, regain her strength so she could…figure out…what…had…hap—
Gabriel moved his eye from his rifle’s scope and patted Cahill on the back. “Nice shot.”
“Thanks,” Cahill said. “You, too.”
Gabriel frowned. “I was trying for her head.”
“Close enough.”
As they rose to their feet, Walker asked, “We go after them?”
Gabriel scanned the back of the stadium, and saw that the group that had been fleeing was heading once more for the fence.
“They’ll be fine. We go inside.”
At the sound of the first two shots at the back of the stadium, Martina increased her speed, getting almost all the way to the wall by the time the second pair of shots went off.
She raced along the wall, looking for a way in as she tried not to think about the possibility that one of the bullets had hit Ben, but all the gates were locked.
She screamed in frustration.
“Over here!” Nyla yelled from along the fence behind her. “Boost me up.”
Martina raced back. “I’ll go.”
“No. I will.”
“No way!”
“Martina, which one of us is armed?”
Martina almost said to give her the rifle, but she knew Nyla was right. Martina had no firearms experience.
She laced her fingers together. As soon as Nyla stepped into the cradle, Martina thrust up her hands.
“Hurry,” she said as Nyla dropped out of sight. “Please hurry.”
Ben had been sure his life was over. But then the doctor had collapsed. Before her colleague could react, he was down, too.
There were shouts of surprise. Ben thought one of them had been his, but he quickly pulled himself together and said, “Come on!”