As I neared the rocks, I saw crags and nooks. None of them were big enough to hide me.
Can’t beat it, can’t outrun it.
The air grew hotter, more oppressive. I could scarcely breathe.
From past experience, I knew only one way to throw the Grueler off my trail. As I reached the rocks, I veered again, this time to the east. Then I doubled back. The Grueler tried to twist around, but once again it reacted too slowly. Scrabbling frantically at the ground, it slid along the soft surface. One second later, it slammed into the rocks. Debris shot into the gloomy sky and was quickly entrapped in the smaller dust devils. Large pieces of rock crumbled away. They collapsed in a heap, burying the metal monster. The hissing noise died off.
Thank God.
The air buzzed. The buzzing picked up volume until it sounded like a dozen chainsaws, operating all at once.
The heap of rocks trembled. The trembling turned to quaking.
My chest cinched tight. I knew I needed to keep running. But I couldn’t move a muscle.
Abruptly, the pile exploded. Small rocks shot to the sides as the Grueler climbed to its feet. Its closest head twisted toward me.
Damn it.
I sprinted northeast. The creature raced after me, moving much faster than I remembered. Tree branches splintered and shattered. Claws struck the dirt evenly and neatly, with no sounds of slippage.
What now?
I ran up a small hill. My feet slipped at the top and I allowed myself to slide into a shallow ditch filled with soft dirt. Looking back, I saw the Grueler reach the top of the hill. Even though it lacked eyes, its glowing red lights still felt like they were staring at me.
Metal creaked. The hissing stung my ears.
Then the Grueler raced toward me.
I darted out of the ditch. The beast crashed into the soft dirt and charged after me. But the soil slowed it by a considerable margin.
Dust devils continued to rage. The wind shifted and dirt particles began to assault me at an angle. As I ran up another hill, my mind raced.
How does it work?
The Grueler was highly dangerous. It combined the strengths of robotics and predators with few, if any, of their attending weaknesses.
But if I wanted to survive, I had to stop thinking of the Grueler as the perfect machine. Instead, I needed to figure it out, to understand it. Only then would I be able to defeat it.
I heard faint footsteps above the hissing. Looking east, I saw Beverly’s feminine figure running through the woods. She moved quickly, gracefully.
The Grueler hesitated. Then it angled itself eastward. It ran after Beverly for a few seconds. Then it ran westward again. It proceeded to run back and forth, switching its focus between us.
It can’t decide.
I racked my brain. How was the Grueler tracking us? Surely, the dust devils obscured auditory and visual clues.
Body heat?
I thought back to our first encounter with the Grueler. It had lost interest in us once we’d entered the crevice. Maybe that was because the rocks blocked our body heat.
It’s just a robot.
My brain went into overdrive. The Grueler was a machine, subject to programming. And at that moment, its programming was causing it to chase after both Beverly and I. Swiftly, I remembered other things I’d noticed about the Grueler. Maybe we couldn’t outrun it. Maybe we couldn’t beat it in a fair battle.
But we could outthink it.
Chapter 86
“I see the vehicles,” Carrie whispered. “But no guards.”
Graham leaned out from behind the tree. The hiding spot afforded them a good view of the station and the runway.
Shielding his one good eye, Graham looked at the loading bay. The large doors were wide open. The interior was pitch black, a near perfect contrast to the blinding spotlights. Numerous SUVs and trucks sat next to the loading bay. Their engines and headlights had been turned off.
Twisting his hips, he looked toward the runway. Spotlights danced on the pavement, illuminating a strange, bulky object. “I think that’s a body,” he said. “Keep low and follow me.”
Gun in hand, Graham slipped out from behind the tree. He hurried to the research station and worked his way to the hangar side of it. A quick look confirmed the large gate was closed.
He darted onto the runway. After a short jog, he pulled up and inhaled a long, slow breath. Bodies, maybe a dozen of them, lay scattered up and down the edges of the pavement. They looked a bit like angels, thanks to the glare of the spotlights. But their clenched jaws and blood-splattered clothes ruined the illusion.
Most of the corpses were far away from him. But one was relatively close. He crept to it. It belonged to a young man, no more than thirty years old. The man’s face was freshly-shaven and his skin was unwrinkled. He wore black clothes and black boots. Black greasepaint was smeared across parts of his visage.
“Severed limbs and carved-up bodies.” Carrie winced. “This is definitely the Grueler’s work.”
“Simona said something about soldiers.” Graham exhaled. “Looks like these ones didn’t make it.”
Carrie looked around. “The runway is lined with stones. She must’ve disabled the electric fences here too.”
“And probably put them back up again once the Grueler was done.” Graham felt the earth rumble beneath him. Furrowing his brow, he recalled the flooding tunnels. “Okay, let’s get—”
“Freeze.”
Graham whirled around. A man stood about ten feet away, outside the range of spotlights and shrouded by blowing dust. He was big and powerfully built. A pistol was clutched in one of his hands.
“Drop the gun.” The man aimed the pistol at Graham’s face. “Or die.”
Chapter 87
“You’re dressed like him.” Still holding his pistol, Graham nodded at the corpse. “One of yours?”
The man’s gun didn’t waver. “Names?”
“Carrie Cooper.”
“Dutch Graham.”
“Dutch Graham?” He cocked his head. “I used to read about a guy named Dutch Graham when I was a kid. He was this crazy explorer. Always getting in and out of trouble.”
Graham chuckled.
“It’s really you?” The man stepped forward. His eyes scanned Graham from head to toe. “It is you. What the hell are you doing here?”
“Getting into trouble.”
The man exhaled. Then he holstered his gun.
“Who are you?” Carrie asked.
“Special Agent Ed Hooper,” he replied. “I’m with the Secret Service.”
“Secret Service?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Are you here to shut down Eco-Trek?”
“That was the plan.” Hooper’s gaze flitted to the corpses. “Unfortunately, we weren’t prepared for a robotic guard dog.”
“Yeah, neither were we.” Graham took a deep breath. “Did anyone else make it?”
“Nope. Just me.” He exhaled. “That thing almost got me, too. All of a sudden, it just retreated.”
“We could use your help.”
Hooper arched an eyebrow.
“We don’t have much time. But Simona Wolcott is planning to use her drones to kill a lot of people. We’re going to stop her.”
“Just the two of you?”
“There are two others.” Graham’s jaw hardened as he recalled the Grueler chasing his friends. “They’re coming.”
Hooper stared at Graham and Carrie for a moment. “What’s the plan?”
“We’re going to sneak into Simona’s office and access her computer. Hopefully, we can divert her planes.”