The
House of Screams, Isla Dos Diablos
Sunday, August 29, 3:40
P.M.
Time Remaining on
Extinction Clock: 68 hours, 20 minutes
E.S.T.
The man on the radio-the one who called
himself Cowboy-had told him to run and hide. He almost did. When he
heard the voices in the hallway, Eighty-Two grabbed his portable
radio and fled the communications center and ran down two side
corridors and across the veranda, back in the direction of his
room.
The problem was that the guard quarters were
between the communications room and the main house. He skidded to a
stop at a juncture of corridors, torn by indecision. In the
distance he heard gunfire and then screams. And then alarms. These
weren’t the fire alarms that had gone off when he’d sent his
diversionary fire. No, these were the heavy Klaxons to be used only
in the more extreme emergencies.
The Americans were
attacking.
The thought sent a thrill through
Eighty-two’s chest. He started toward his quarters again but
stopped after a single step.
What if he ran into Carteret on the way?
When this alarm was going off, Eighty-two was under orders to
remain in his room. Everyone on the staff knew that. Guards would
probably be at his room now, wondering where he was, and his
absence would be relayed to the head guard. Carteret. How could
Eighty-two explain his presence on the far side of the compound, in
the wrong building? Carteret wasn’t stupid. He’d put the pieces
together: a small fire to distract everyone and then a full-scale
invasion.
Would Otto have given Carteret orders to
kill Eighty-two if there was a danger he’d be
taken?
No. Alpha would never allow
that.
Then a second thrill went through the boy’s
chest and this time it wasn’t excitement-it was
terror.
If there was an invasion by government
forces-American or otherwise-then their guards would almost
certainly have other orders. Orders more crucial to Alpha and
Otto’s plans than the life of Eighty-two.
The boy looked down one corridor toward the
sealed computer rooms. In there, in the very heart of the Hive,
were records of all of the research done here on the island. Years
upon years of study of genetics and transgenics, of special
surgeries, of breeding programs, of the rape and perversion of
nature. Evidence that would put Otto and Alpha away forever. Maybe
have them executed.
Then Eighty-two turned and looked down the
opposite corridor, back to the House of Screams. That’s where the
labs were, and that’s where the bunkhouses for the New Men
were.
The Americans were here because of what was
in those computers. Even though Cowboy had told Eighty-two that the
audio on the hunt video was bad, they must know that something
terribly evil was being done here on the island. They’d come to
find out what and to stop it. The computer records could save
millions.
On the other hand, Otto and Alpha could
never risk having the New Men fall into the hands of any
government. The worldwide outcry would be like the shouts of
outraged angels.
And there was the female.
In Eighty-two’s pocket the stone felt as
heavy as an anvil.
He stood and looked down the corridor toward
the computer rooms, chewing his lip in dreadful indecision. Then he
made his choice.
He turned toward the House of Screams and
ran.