Through the doorway, a heavily muscled shape bulled into the room, knuckling on claws. A giant sloth. They’d gone extinct ages ago. The genetic throwback settled to its haunches. Fur along one flank had been burned to the skin and still smoked.

Its large eyes scanned the room, then joined the others in staring down at the knot of children.

Bennett finally sat up, as confused as Lorna at the behavior of the children. The young ones continued to stand between the monsters and the man.

All their small eyes locked gazes with the elders.

A silent negotiation seemed to be under way.

Then voices echoed from the demolished doorway. Half deafened by the blast, she couldn’t make out the words, only that it sounded like English.

Another figure stepped through the smoke on two legs.

Only it wasn’t a hominid.

Lorna choked on her shock, at the impossibility of it.

She struggled to her feet.

“Jack…?”

Chapter 58

Relief welled through Jack as he heard his name called out. He blinked tears from his stinging eyes and stumbled farther inside the room. It looked like some mad scientist’s workshop. Flaming debris dotted the floor and curled smoke into the room.

Jack squinted, straining-then spotted a figure rising from the floor.

Lorna…

He rushed toward her.

She came at him.

Reaching her, he crushed her in his arms. He took her scent deep into his chest. Her heartbeat pounded against his ribs. Her cheek, tender and soft, nestled against his neck. He needed to make sure she was real and not a feverish delusion. He clung harder to her.

But she broke the embrace too soon, fighting him in desperation. Her face stared up, wide-eyed and full of worry. With his shirt ripped open, she placed a hand against his bare chest. Her palm was ice against his skin.

“You’re burning up.”

He took her hand down and clasped her fingers. “Just a fever. Flu. Doesn’t matter.”

She didn’t look convinced. But for the moment she had a larger fear. Her fingers tightened on his hands.

“Jack, the island. They’ve planted bombs here. Set to blow in another ten minutes or so.”

He tensed, picturing the exploding napalm charges. So it wasn’t just the one island. The bastards were cleaning house and burning all bridges behind them.

“We have to get off this island,” she said.

He took her by the hand and led her back toward the door, but more of Scar’s forces had piled into the room, blocking the way out.

Jack stepped forward and confronted him. He had to get the message across. “We must go!” He waved an arm toward the door. “Now!”

Scar ignored him. His gaze remained fixed upon a cluster of children standing in the room. The brood stared straight back at him in a silent war of wills.

Jack didn’t have time for this.

He stepped between Scar and the children.

Finally, the man’s eyes snapped angrily in Jack’s direction. Agony ripped into Jack’s skull. Gasping, he blacked out and fell to his knees. Fleeting images flashed through his head: a spray of blood, a flash of a scalpel, a cinch of leather straps, a splay of a dissected body.

With each image came a bolt of pain.

Then he felt his body tugged to the side. The pressure in his head popped and drained away. His vision returned.

Lorna knelt beside him. “Are you okay?”

Jack touched his forehead, expecting to feel shattered bone. “I think so.”

He looked up. Scar had returned the full brunt of his black attention upon the group of kids. Jack recognized a hard truth. Whatever truce had existed between them before had ended.

He turned to Lorna. “They’re not going to let us go.”

MALIK WHEEZED AS he ran up the last of the steps. A doorway opened ahead, brighter than the dark tunnel. As he fled toward his salvation he clutched the cryogenic jar tightly to his chest. After Saddam firebombed and bleached the original source, this was the last of the virus supply.

With it, I can start again. With or without Bennett.

From this frozen seed, whole armies could be born.

And it didn’t matter who financed his work. There would always be governments willing to pay the price. If not the United States, then another country. And as a free agent, he could command any price.

Reaching the tunnel’s end, he ducked through to the outside.

The sun had set, but the western skies still glowed a deep orange.

The helipad sat atop the highest point of the hilltop. A circle of asphalt, painted like a yellow bull’s-eye, held back the forest. He sprinted toward it along a crushed stone path. Even from here, he heard the low drone of the helicopter’s engine. As he topped the rise he spotted the rotors spinning.

He reached the asphalt and called for the pilot.

A man in a flight jacket stood on the far side, staring down at the beach. He flicked away a cigarette with a flash of ash, turned, and crossed briskly to the chopper.

Malik met him at the open door.

“Where’s Mr. Bennett?” the pilot asked.

Malik put on his best face of concern and regret. “Dead. Caught in an ambush.”

The pilot glanced toward the tunnel as if wagering if he should confirm the story. Malik made an overly grand motion of checking his watch. “We’re down to less than ten minutes. We either go now or never.”

With a concerned glance at his own wrist, the pilot finally nodded. “Load up. I want to put some distance between us and that blast.”

Malik climbed into the backseat while the pilot settled behind the stick. In seconds, the engine roared, and the blades cut faster through the air. With a lurch of his stomach, the skids lifted off the asphalt.

Simply breaking physical contact with the island calmed Malik’s hammering heart. He cradled the frozen prize in his lap and stared out the window. Trees dropped away under him. The expanse of the sea spread wide with all the promise of the world.

He allowed a smile to form.

The pilot called back, shouting to be heard. “What’s that smell?”

Malik didn’t know what he was talking about. He sniffed deeply, fearing a gas leak or maybe smoke. They didn’t have time for a maintenance check.

“What are you carrying?” the pilot yelled. “Smells like an animal took a dump back there!”

Brought to his attention, Malik finally noted a rank smell. He had failed to distinguish it earlier, too accustomed to the odor. He smelled it all the time down in the labs. It got into your clothes, hair, even your pores.

He sniffed at his shirt.

It was freshly laundered.

As he lifted his head the odor grew stronger. It wasn’t coming off him. Fear swamped over him.

He swung around to the small storage space behind his seat. His heart pounded as he peered over the edge of the seat.

A bestial face stared back at him with a savage leer. The creature had crammed itself into the tight space. It must have climbed aboard when the pilot was out smoking. Malik noted the old surgical scars-but also the disk-shaped object strapped to its chest.

A flechette mine.

A year ago, Duncan had tested the blast effect on a male specimen who had dared to punch one of his men. Malik had seen the body afterward. All the flesh had been shredded off the bone-and according to Duncan, the specimen had lived for a full minute afterward.

Horror filled him.

“No,” Malik begged. “Please…”

As the creature smiled coldly, a hand lifted to the center of the mine and pressed the trigger.

LORNA HEARD A distant explosion. At first, she feared it was the island blowing up. But nothing worse transpired.

We should have at least eight minutes, she estimated.

But what were they going to do with those last minutes?

Standing with Jack, she continued to watch the silent war being waged between the children and their elders. She didn’t understand it, but she suspected the two intelligences-one nascent and pure, the other tortured and broken-fought for dominance. Or maybe it was something less brutal, a probing for compatibility. Having grown apart, maybe a merger wasn’t even possible.