Harbridge glanced around, making sure all eyes were on him. Then he waved his hand.
Two men, northwest of the plane, rose to crouching positions. Hugging the ocean, they made their way to the front of Group Two.
Gnats swarmed Hooper’s face, oblivious to his bug spray. Waving them away, he watched Harbridge join Group Two. The operators shifted forward in small groups.
A hissing noise pierced the air. Hooper arched an eyebrow as he tried to identify the noise. Was it the hangar gate? If so, did that mean a drone was about to takeoff? Or maybe land?
The HyperMax was parked at the far end of the runway so he wasn’t worried about a collision. Still, any activity posed a threat to them.
Squinting, he stared through the dust storm. In the distance, he saw the station. The hangar gate was closed.
Sweat beaded up on his forehead. It wasn’t the research station. So, what was causing that hissing noise?
Hooper shifted his gaze. In the darkness, he saw members of Group One crouched on either side of the HyperMax. They stood still.
A buzzing noise grated Hooper’s ears. The air cracked. Metal clicked against pavement.
Shouts erupted from Group Two’s position. Gunfire roared. Hooper watched in rapt fascination as tiny bits of light punctuated the near darkness.
A large shadow swept down the runway. It moved with terrifying speed and agility. Screams rang out. The tiny bits of light blinked away. The sounds of gunfire waned to nothing. And then, in a matter of seconds, the shadow slid back into the waiting darkness.
Hooper’s chest cinched tight. The gnats, which had been so relentless just a minute ago, were nowhere to be seen.
Without a word, Group One eased down the runway. They moved in unison, their guns trained on the darkness.
The buzzing intensified. The temperature increased. A hot metallic scent filled Hooper’s nostrils.
“Something’s wrong.” Major Ford checked his pistol. “I’m going to help them.”
“Harbridge said to stay here,” Hooper replied.
“Don’t worry.” Ford’s face turned hard. “I trained for this.”
Before Hooper could stop him, Major Ford was jogging down the runway. Hooper clenched his gun until his knuckles grew white. But he maintained his position.
Looking ahead, he saw Major Ford stealing up the southeastern side of the runway. The man walked low, shifting a pistol from side to side. Before long, he had slipped into darkness.
The shadow reappeared. It raced down the runway. It looked like a lion, but its movements were far too precise.
The shadow swarmed Group One, leaping on them and smashing them to the ground. Horrified, Hooper shrank backward.
A harsh scream rang out as the shadowy creature gripped Barkin by the leg. With a sudden shift of its head, it hurled the man onto the beach. Then it bounded after him, its claws clicking loudly on the pavement. With a quick leap, it slammed into Barkin. Its head lowered to the man’s chest. The air buzzed.
Blood splattered everywhere.
Hooper took careful aim at the creature. But a sudden burst of light from another gun gave him pause. It illuminated the shadow and he saw the creature’s pipe-filled body and camouflage-colored padding. He saw its precise, yet awkward movements. But most of all he saw its teeth. They were sharp, long, and made of metal. The realization washed over him like a cold shower. The creature wasn’t an animal.
It was a highly advanced quadruped robot.
He shifted his aim, trying to locate the still-screaming Barkin. He was astonished to see the robot didn’t just rely on individual limbs. Instead, it appeared to utilize integrated whole-body motion.
Barkin’s screams died out. Other ones took its place. Hooper was tempted to join the fight. But he knew mere bullets wouldn’t hurt the creature. No, his best bet was to skulk along the runway, searching for survivors and getting them back to the plane.
He darted down the pavement. The giant research station grew larger as he neared it.
“Help … help me.”
A sharp inhalation escaped Hooper’s throat as he noticed Harbridge lying on the edge of the runway. The man had been stomped so hard the impact had actually cracked his body armor. Then the robot had torn through his chest, exposing his organs to the elements.
Hooper hurried to Harbridge. His eyes scanned the man’s body. There was nothing he could do.
“God … it hurts.” Gritting his teeth, Harbridge did his best to keep his organs from spilling out of his body. “Listen—”
“Save your strength,” Hooper said.
“Shut this place down. Do whatever it takes. You … you have to—” Harbridge’s eyes rolled to the back of his head.
And then Hooper was alone.
Chapter 71
The elevator car jolted to a halt. The doors opened wide and I saw a massive room before me. Two enormous glass reservoirs, filled with some kind of thick, swirling substance, occupied the middle of the space. They looked a little like support columns, only they didn’t quite reach the ceiling. Instead, numerous metal pipes completed the journey.
Gawking, I stepped out of the elevator car. The air smelled of disinfectant and plastic. Shifting my gaze, I saw more pipes extending from the reservoirs. They shot backward, clear to the other side of the room, where they vanished into the far wall. It took me a few seconds to realize the far wall was actually a partition, designed to seal off a portion of the room.
“Where is everyone?” Carrie whispered.
Beverly frowned. “Evidently, not here.”
“Do you think they went upstairs for the security briefing?”
“Let’s hope so.”
Using his knife, Graham attacked the access panel. Quickly, he sheared through a bunch of cables, disabling the elevator car.
Pistol at the ready, I paced forward. The twin reservoirs were positioned directly beneath the hangar. As I passed between them, I studied their contents. They contained a grayish substance that swirled around as if it had a life of its own.
CN-46?
I placed a hand on the left tank and felt a sudden chill. Was I staring at the pre-aerosol version of CN-46? The stuff that had killed Lila Grinberg? The stuff that had almost killed us?
I crept to the partition. Numerous oval-shaped windows, covered with thick glass plating, dotted its surface. Looking through one of them, I saw a well-organized cleanroom, bathed in a dull orange-yellow light. Numerous machines filled the interior.
“This must be where they produce CN-46,” Beverly whispered.
“Makes sense.” I looked around. “Damn it. No reliquary.”
She turned her head. “And no prisoners either.”
I stared at the production area for a moment. “Where’s the lab?”
“Lab?”
“If you operated a place like this, wouldn’t you maintain some kind of laboratory? What if you wanted to make adjustments to CN-46?”
Her gaze flitted across the space. “Maybe it’s upstairs.”
I recalled the maps of the facility. “I don’t think so.”
She frowned.
I focused my thoughts on the basement floor map. It had contained few details. Two large cylinders had represented the reservoirs. The boxed-off area lined up with the production facility. And the box with wavy lines was clearly the elevator.
What am I missing?
A thought snapped into my brain. “The door.”
Beverly looked at me like I was crazy. “What?”
“The basement floor plan showed a door.” I looked at the northeast wall. “Over there.”
“I don’t see anything.”
Mentally, I pictured the door in my head. Then I ran to the wall. After a brief search, I located a thin crack in the concrete. It ran continuously in the shape of a giant oval.