Her presence at the event had been the result of boredom plus idle curiosity. And having seen the absurd matchup, she had been about to leave rather than witness the slaughter. But now there was a personal connection, even if it was to a man who had been a member of SRPA, an organization that supported the Grace administration.
Bets were being placed all around—most of which were on the Chimera. Susan felt for the pouch of tokens, bet all of them on the man with the SRPA tattoo, and wondered if she was going to regret it.
Legs, Brierson said, as he spoke to Capelli from the past. Cut them correctly and your opponent won’t be able to move. And remember, while Hybrids are somewhat different from humans, they were human at one time. That means they have a similar musculature.
So as Capelli and El Diablo circled each other, the runner was eyeing the area just above the Chimera’s knees knowing that if he could sever the stink’s vastus medialis, vastus lateralis, or rectus femoris, it would immobilize the Steelhead.
But how? El Diablo’s right hand was little more than a club now, but there was nothing wrong with its left, or its teeth for that matter. Still, he had to try. So it was Capelli’s turn to charge. A fistful of soil was concealed in his left hand and the knife was gripped in his right, as he dashed forward. Then, the moment Capelli was close enough, he threw the dirt into the Chimera’s face.
Perhaps the tactic would have been effective against another human. But the Steelhead had six eyes, and even if four of them were blinded, it could still see. So rather than make the cut as planned, Capelli felt an explosion of pain as the Chimera’s good hand found his throat and a bony fist came around to hammer his skull.
Everything went black for a second, the strength went out of Capelli’s knees, and he began to fall. But the darkness lifted after a moment or two, and as it did, Capelli brought the knife up and in. That saved him. Because as three inches of steel entered El Diablo’s abdomen, it let go.
However, the talons on the Chimera’s left hand had left deep puncture wounds in Capelli’s neck and slashed his chest as they fell away. Blood gushed, Capelli back-pedaled, and the crowd went wild.
People were on their feet, and the betting became even more frenzied as the odds shifted again. Because now that the human was wounded, and bleeding profusely, the smart money expected the contest to end quickly.
But Capelli was a Sentinel. Or had been one. And he still had the capacity to recover from nonlethal injuries more quickly than other people could. So even as the odds turned against him, Capelli’s wounds had begun to close. That didn’t mean he was safe, however, as El Diablo began to follow him around the ring.
What happened next was more accident than plan as Capelli backed over a stone that was mixed in with the dirt and tripped. El Diablo uttered a roar of triumph as the human fell over backwards.
Capelli’s first impulse was to roll out of the way as the Hybrid came towards him. But another possibility occurred to him, and he went limp instead. Certain of victory, the Steelhead bent over, and was in the process of reaching for Capelli’s already bloodied throat when the human came back to life.
The blade cut deep, found the sartorius muscle in the Hybrid’s right leg, and sliced all the way through it. Suddenly, without lateral rotation, flexion, and abduction, El Diablo was crippled.
As the Chimera screamed, and made a grab for what hurt, Capelli brought his knees up to his chin and kicked. His feet hit the stink in the stomach and pushed it over. Dirt flew, and a cloud of dust rose as the Hybrid landed on its back.
Bam-Bam, Inkskin, and Alfonso were rushing into the arena by that time in a belated effort to save their Chimeran meal ticket. But those who had money on Capelli weren’t having any of that. There was a sudden stutter of gunfire as someone fired a burst from a .45 M3 submachine gun. Geysers of soil flew into the air and drew a line between the circus performers and the Chimera.
So the men were forced to retreat as Capelli scrambled to his feet and El Diablo made futile efforts to stand. That was when the pro-Capelli part of the crowd began to chant. “Kill it! Kill it! Kill it!”
And Capelli was happy to oblige. As he circled the beast, it made a pathetic effort to match his movements but couldn’t keep up. That allowed the human to step in and slash El Diablo’s throat. Blood sprayed the dirt, the Chimera’s head wobbled, and the beast collapsed.
Absolute pandemonium broke out as the winners celebrated and the losers were forced to pay up. Capelli knew there was something he should do, but he couldn’t summon the energy to do it, as the circus performers swept in to confiscate the knife and carry him towards the exit. “No!” Capelli protested. “I’m free. You promised.”
Bam-Bam’s brightly painted face loomed above as Capelli was borne away. “We lied,” the clown replied. “You killed El Diablo—and you are going to pay.”
CHAPTER NINE
NOWHERE TO HIDE
It was eternally black inside the caverns, or would have been, were it not for the generator and electric lights. But the side gallery in which Monica Shaw and the other women slept was kept dark so they could get some rest whenever the opportunity presented itself. Except that Shaw couldn’t sleep, because she was in pain.
Not physical pain, since there was nothing wrong with her body, but emotional pain that stemmed from the horrible decision she’d been forced to make. Within the next hour, acting on information obtained from her over the last few months, Judge Ramsey’s regulators were going to attack the base. Their goal was to destroy the nascent government and steal the five thousand doses of Hale vaccine that were ready for distribution. Except that under the dictatorship that Ramsey planned to establish, the only people receiving the vaccine would be his supporters.
None of this was of interest to Shaw. All she wanted to do was protect her husband and three-year-old daughter, both of whom were under Ramsey’s control.
But what was right? And what was wrong? Or did such concepts have meaning anymore? Survival of the fittest. That was the new morality. Or so Shaw continually told herself. Except now, faced with the imminent slaughter of the President and his staff, Shaw realized that she’d been wrong. If there was any hope for humanity, it lay in battling not only the Chimera, but people like Ramsey. Even if that meant sacrificing her husband and daughter.
Tears were streaming down Shaw’s face as she threw the blanket off and swung her boots over onto the floor. She was fully dressed in anticipation of the coming attack. Carefully, so as not to wake the others, Shaw made her way over to the cot occupied by Cassie Aklin. Then, having touched the other woman’s shoulder, she said, “Cassie! It’s Monica.”
Aklin had been dreaming. Nathan Hale was sitting on the other side of her kitchen table in Denver. His strange golden eyes were locked with hers and he was smiling. “There isn’t any point in worrying about tomorrow, Cassie! We have tonight. Let’s enjoy it.”
Then Hale disappeared as someone else said her name. “Cassie, it’s Monica. I need to talk to you.”
Aklin resented the loss of her time with Nathan and felt a rising sense of irritation. “Monica? Can this wait? I need some sleep.”
“No,” Shaw whispered flatly. “I did something terrible, Cassie! Something I’m ashamed of. I told them when President Voss would be in the cave—and when the latest batch of Hale vaccine would be ready. They’re going to kill the President and steal the shipment.”