Graham hustled to Akolo’s side. He scooped up the kid and limped down the trail.
Damn it.
Between his artificial leg and Akolo, Graham was now running at half the creature’s speed. There was no way he could continue to stay ahead of it.
I leapt onto the rock, sliding across it. It felt smooth and polished.
My boots hit the ground. Ducking down, I aimed my pistol into the forest. Dust was everywhere, cloaking the area with its grainy particles.
I took aim at a thick cloud of swirling dirt. But I was unable to draw a bead on the creature. Gritting my teeth, I aimed for the center of the frenzied movements.
The cloud paused. Dirt continued to shoot in all directions. Up and down, back and forth. But it didn’t advance on our position.
I furrowed my brow.
The hissing died off. Twigs stopped snapping. Branches stopped breaking. An eerie silence filled the air.
Then the dust cloud moved. Not forward this time, but backward. It retreated quickly, silently.
And then it was gone.
Beverly, clutching her gun, appeared at my side. “Where’d it go?”
I stared, dumbfounded, into the whirling dust storm. “I don’t know.”
Chapter 51
“I’m telling you, it didn’t sound right.” Akolo wrenched himself away from his father. “It sounded funny.”
Benigno peered at the large rock. “Funny how?”
“I don’t know. It just didn’t sound right.”
Only a few minutes had passed since the Grueler’s strange disappearance. While the others caught their breath, I’d remained at the rock. Muscles tensed, I’d kept my eyes peeled for the creature.
It had hunted us across the island. It had been relentless, even chasing us over the boulders. Then, at our weakest moment, it had disappeared. Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate. It hadn’t disappeared. Instead, it had paused in its tracks. Then it had retreated in orderly fashion.
But why?
The creature had no problem killing Stevens. So, why had it hesitated with us? Had it caught another scent? If so, what?
I shifted my gaze to the large rock. It was flattish, rising about eight inches off the ground. It was roughly rectangular in shape and I estimated its size at ten feet by eight feet.
Reaching down, I touched the surface. It looked jagged, but felt smooth to the touch. Shifting my finger, I traced a small ridge. “It’s definitely rock,” I said. “And it feels pretty sturdy.”
Rooting through the soil, Akolo found a small stone. Then he banged it against the rock. A pinging noise rang out.
“You’re right.” Beverly’s brow scrunched up. “It does sound funny.”
Graham took up position behind me. Gun drawn, he scanned the forest. Freed from watch duties, I dug my hands into the soil. It was firm, so I took out my machete. After less than a minute of chopping, I was able to confirm the rock extended at least six inches beneath the surface.
I shifted my grip to its edges. After a bit of searching, I discovered a small gap. Using my fingers, I felt the gap’s smooth surface.
My eyes widened.
The Grueler forgotten, I flung myself to the ground. Flopping onto my side, I stared into the gap.
“Find something?” Beverly asked.
“Yeah,” I replied. “Some kind of mechanism.”
She lay on the ground. Looking upward, she peered at the gap. “It looks like an electronic locking system.”
“Can you beat it?”
“Not without tools.”
I studied the gap for another minute. Then I drove my machete into the soil and began digging dirt away from the rock.
Two minutes later, another surface appeared. It was attached to the rock, but not a part of it. “It’s metal,” I said slowly. “A metal wall.”
Using her fingers, Beverly dug up some soil on the rock’s eastern side. “There’s another wall over here.”
“I know what this is,” Akolo said excitedly. “It’s a hatch.”
I glanced at him.
“You know. To go underground.”
Shifting my gaze, I saw he was right. The metal walls appeared to form a tunnel, slanting into the ground. A fake rock had been mounted on top of the tunnel. An electronic locking system sealed it shut.
“It must lead to the old tunnel system,” I said slowly.
“And this pathway leads to Pagan Bay.” Beverly’s eyes traced the stone-lined trail. “Eco-Trek must use the hatch to access it.”
Looking south, I studied the trail. Small stones marked it. Trees lined either side of the pathway, enclosing it like a corridor.
“How advanced is the locking system?” Benigno asked. “Could it date back to the 1940s?”
“Not a chance,” Beverly replied slowly. “It’s brand new. It must be Eco-Trek’s work.”
I frowned. Simona’s people had discovered the old tunnel system, probably during excavations for the research station. The hatch indicated they were using at least some of the tunnels.
But for what?
Chapter 52
Heart pounding, Alan Briggs leaned out of the conference room. Checking both directions, he saw no one.
Normally, he prided himself on his control, on his mastery of any and all situations. But for the first time in years, he felt like a puppet, controlled by competing puppeteers in a play he didn’t fully understand.
Simona controlled one side of him. She had created an ingenious climate model. It existed in a state of flux, constantly changing itself to fit the never-ending flow of information. It was a brilliant feat. But it also contained a dark underbelly. And after many hours of research, Briggs had begun to realize a disturbing truth. Simona had used the sheer complexity of her model, along with its fluid nature, to hide something. A secret no one would ever suspect.
A secret she might kill to keep.
His employer, Secretary Barney Samuels, controlled the other side of him. The man directed his actions, incentivizing him to inspect the model, to find problems with it. But why? What was Samuels’ true purpose in all this? And how would he react once he discovered Simona’s secret? Would he merely shut down Eco-Trek?
Or would he kill everyone who knew about it?
Briefcase in hand, Briggs stepped into the corridor and quietly shut the door behind him. He took a moment to smooth his shirt and adjust his tie. Then he ran a hand through his oily locks, steering it into a semblance of a hairstyle. But after a few seconds, he messed it up again. He didn’t want to look too neat, lest he draw suspicion from Tessie or Simona.
As Briggs walked down the long corridor, his gait felt unusually stiff. He tried to will himself to walk normally, to swing his arms in rhythm, but it only made him feel more awkward.
Much remained hidden from his eyes. But through research and speculation, Briggs had begun to understand the sequence of events that had led to this moment.
Simona had developed a revolutionary climate model, one that predicted near-term tipping points and resulting catastrophe. Then she’d gone to Samuels and pitched him with an audacious plan, namely a global solar radiation management project.
Using a fleet of drones, she’d dumped CN-46 into the upper atmosphere, thus blocking sunlight from reaching the earth. Based on the model, this would lower global temperatures in the near-term and substantially reduce the risk of climate upheaval in the long term.
Strange weather phenomena started to occur across the globe. At first, Samuels had probably paid little attention to it. But over time, he must’ve gotten nervous. He’d hired Briggs to investigate the situation, to make sure the long-term benefits were worth the short-term costs. And now, Briggs had an answer for him.