As the doors at the far end of the lab burst open with a sound like thunder, she realized why.
THIRTY- TWO
"Rook to King. Come in King."
Dressed in fatigues, now covered by a black wet suit, King walked across the Mercury's cabin, heading for the radio. He and Karn had taken the Mercury around the island and dropped anchor just outside what Karn claimed was a submarine dock. To King it looked like every other slab of rock descending into the ocean, but the old man insisted they'd blasted out a hole big enough for only one thing he could think of: a sub. King picked up the radio. "Go ahead, Rook."
"Things are going to hell fast, King. We've got a mass exodus taking place from the back side of the compound. Looks like scientists and some security. They're skipping town."
Shit, King thought. How did they know we were here?
"It gets worse," Rook said. "Bishop is M.I.A. He should have checked in a half hour ago."
"What about Queen?" King asked.
"She's still inside. Haven't seen any sign of— What?"
King heard Knight talking quickly in the background. The signal cut out for a moment, then Rook returned. "King, we're counting fifteen… eighteen people exiting the front of the compound, heading for the main gates and… holy… King, these people, they're like the capybara. Regens. If they get to town…"
King closed his eyes and shook his head. He knew the people had no control of themselves, that they were, in fact, innocents. But letting them live meant the deaths of hundreds more. "Take them out. Protect the town. I'm going in."
King dropped the radio and exited the cabin. He walked to the back of the boat where Karn waited.
"What's got your panties in a bind?" Karn asked.
King held a small, handheld oxygen tank with a regulator attached to his mouth, taking a test breath. The small tank would give him five minutes underwater. "Take the Mercury back to the dock. Use anything you find on board to protect the town. I've got some friends that will lend a hand. And see if you can raise the USS Grant. Tell them to keep that plane on the ground, but under no circumstances shoot it down."
Karn stared at him, wide-eyed for a moment and then gave a quick salute. He immediately began pulling up the anchor. He turned around to ask a question but King had already entered the water. His swim fins slid beneath the waves as he descended into the depths.
With the anchor up, Karn sat himself in the captain's chair, turned the key, and smiled as the dual engines roared to life. He slammed the throttles forward, launching the yacht forward as though it were a speed boat. "Calvary's coming!"
He picked up the boat's CB as the Mercurypounded over the waves. "USS Grant. This is the yacht Mercury. Please respond. Over."
No response. "Damnit, Grant. I know you're out there! Pick up the line or so help me, I'll sink you myself."
A cold voice came back from the CB, "This is the USS Grant. Who the hell am I talking to? Over."
"Gunnery Sergeant Jon Karn, U.S. Marine Corps," he said, then added, under his breath, "Retired. Over."
"Say again. Did you say retired? Over."
A large wave nearly threw him from the chair. He gripped the steering wheel hard with one hand and raised the CB to his lips with the other. "There isn't time for bullshit! I'm working with a fella. Goes by the name King. He needs some help."
Karn waited for a response as he turned the Mercurytoward the lights of Edinburgh. This time the silence lasted fifteen seconds. He was about to speak again when a new voice came on the line. "This is Captain Steve Savile of the USS Grant. What do you need?"
He laughed as the Mercurypounded through another large wave, casting a spray of seawater over the deck, plastering Karn's gangly hair and beard against his head and chest. I'll be damned, he thought. For a moment it felt good to be back in the thick of things. Then he saw muzzle flashes from the mountainside, like distant fireworks and the rising of panicked voices from Edinburgh.
He opened his mouth to respond, but a sudden series of rapid-fire explosions pounded the air. Rising toward the sky were thousands upon thousands of large tracer rounds. He knew the rounds, designed to be seen, showed the path of even more rounds hidden by the night sky. In all his time in the service he'd never seen such a condensed and massive amount of shells being fired. It seemed impossible. He took note of their southwestern trajectory. The only thing there was Inaccessible Island… unless something was behind it.
He crushed down the button on the CB. "Savile! Move your ass! You have incoming!"
He listened for a response, but only heard the distant sound of explosions.
THIRTY- THREE
Frothing mad, seven regens, both men and women, burst into the large laboratory. Queen ducked behind a workstation and watched as the mindless group snapped at each other like a pack of wild dogs. One caught the arm of another and bit a chunk free. The flesh healed immediately, but the injured regen reacted violently, tackling the other in a bloody frenzy.
Queen crawled toward the workstation that held her thumb drive and Aleman's virus. She had no idea if it had time to do its work, but time was up. If she wanted to leave alive it had to be now.
The battling regens rolled across the linoleum floor, leaving streaks of liquid red as they tore one another apart, healing time after time, descending deeper into madness. The pair fell into a computer terminal, shaking the hibernating machine. The screen blinked to life and played a start-up chime. The sudden light and sound startled the regens and without pause, the group flung themselves at the computer, treating its actions as a sign of life and, therefore, food.
Monitors flew through the air after proving too tough to bite through. Wires snapped and fell to the floor like disemboweled entrails. All the while, the regens worked their way across the lab, headed straight for Queen. She reached up over the desktop and felt for the thumb drive. She found the front of the computer tower and the thumb drive attached below. She grabbed on tight and yanked.
The device removal chime sounded like a gunshot.
Queen held her breath as the regens stopped and listened. In that moment, she knew she wouldn't leave the room without a fight. Never one to take the first blow, Queen unslung her weapon and stood up. As the closest regen's eyes widened, its head ceased to existed. Queen placed three hollow-tip rounds between the eyes of a second. But her luck ran out when she aimed at the third.
The five remaining regens sprang into action, tossing tables and equipment at Queen as they made their way toward her. She realized with horror, that the regens weren't completely mindless. They understood the danger of bullets and were doing their best to avoid them. Queen backed up a small staircase that led to an exit. But the combination of not knowing where the exit led and knowing the regens would give chase she decided to make her stand here.
She let loose with several volleys of bullets, catching a shoulder here, a leg there, slowing them down, but far from stopping them. With fifty feet between them, she took note of the four large cylinders attached to the wall. They might understand the danger of bullets, but she doubted they could comprehend the danger of the liquid nitrogen stored above them.