Queen pulled up and twisted, feeling the beast’s nails tear her t-shirt and score her chest. She lashed out with a series of powerful kicks, pummeling the oborot’s face and chest. The angry beast swung back, still holding on with one hand. Queen struck the hand with a well-placed kick and the oborot lost its grip. As it fell, it reached out and grabbed hold of her ankle. She felt a jolt as the sudden addition of the beast’s weight to her own threatened to rip her shoulders out of their sockets, but Queen was no weakling. They dangled far above the ground, the Ferris wheel slowly descending. Queen looked down and her eyes locked with those of the oborot.
She stamped down with all her might on the oborot’s face, and heard the crunch of breaking bone. The beast let out a yelp, lost its grip, and tumbled to the ground. It lay there for a moment, but then managed to rise up on its hands and knees, and started to crawl away.
“Unbelievable,” Queen growled. As the gondola came down again, she dropped to the ground and looked around for her lost Mark 23, but she did not see it anywhere. She spotted the oborot. It had regained its feet, and was limping slowly in the direction of the abandoned pirate ride. Queen’s eyes flitted to the swing ride, which still spun at a dizzying rate, the swinging blades glinting in the moonlight. The way in was right there, but she’d be cut to pieces before reaching it.
She glanced at the oborot, which seemed to be moving with a purpose. What if it knew another way in? She spared one last moment to look for her Mark 23 and spotted it lying beneath the broken-down wooden steps of the Ferris wheel. She snatched it up and took off in pursuit of the oborot.
It hobbled past the remains of the boat swing ride and vanished into a thick stand of weeds and shrubbery on the other side. Queen got there just in time to see it disappear into an old storm drain. Taking a deep breath, she followed, hoping it would not lead her to a dead end…or into a death trap.
Chapter 11
“Where the hell did she go?” Darius watched as Andrew clicked on the various cameras, trying to locate the woman. Damn Manifold and the shoestring budget they’d put him on. One little mistake and he was in the doghouse. Hell, he was in the outhouse. He needed this project to succeed to get back into Ridley’s good graces, not that he’d heard from the man in months.
“She ran past the ship swing ride,” Andrew said. His tone said, not for the first time, that he disapproved of the money Darius had spent modifying the old amusement park. “If she doesn’t change direction, we should see her on camera five shortly.”
“That’s a big ‘if.’ She’s surprised me so far. No reason to expect she won’t do it again.” Darius hated admitting that, but the woman had proved to be resourceful and downright ferocious. He wouldn’t have believed it from looking at her. With that face and body, she belonged in a magazine, not the military.
“Maybe she’s bugging out,” Andrew said hopefully.
“It’s possible.” Darius stroked his chin, feeling the rough stubble. “I would prefer she not escape, though.”
“I could release the remainder of the failed test groups. That one small pack almost finished her.” There was a manic glow in Andrew’s eyes. “They’re bouncing off the walls as it is. We’ve already determined their minds can’t be restored. If we’re going to kill them anyway…”
“No.” Darius slashed the air with his hand, cutting off Andrew’s words. “Think. What would happen if they got to civilization before daybreak?”
Andrew shrugged. “Some civilians would be killed, but by the time the police track down the culprits, regression will have kicked in and they’ll arrest some raving lunatics, that’s all.”
“A bunch of lunatics all just happen to terrorize the same part of the country on the same night? And what if there are witnesses? One person telling the story would be dismissed. But several people all telling the same tale is a different story. We’d be shut down for certain, and if the law didn’t get us, Ridley would.”
“Accidents happen, things don’t work out. Ridley should understand that.” If Andrew had ever met Richard Ridley, the head of Manifold Genetics, he would not dismiss the thought so casually.
“We’re not letting them out, and that’s final. Just keep an eye out for her and let me know when she shows her face. I’ll track her down myself.”
The storm drain was a tight squeeze, and Queen muttered a prayer of thanks that she wasn’t some bulky heifer. She followed the sound of the oborot, her pistol held out in front of her should she need it. A fetid odor hung in the air, blending with the dank, moldy smell of the old drain. Her hand came down on something cold and gooey. She yanked her hand back and wiped it on the side of the drain, getting rid of the worst of the ooze. Taking out her flashlight and cupping her hand around it to minimize the light, she shined it on the floor. A rotting arm laid there, the flesh almost completely liquefied.
Nice, she thought. At least I know why it stinks in here. She wondered if more stray body parts waited up ahead.