Carter regarded him coldly for a moment, anger, curiosity and a strange sort of hope fighting for primacy behind her eyes. “I’ll walk you to the edge of the infestation,” she said in a taut voice. “That’s how long you have to convince me.”
Pierce breathed a sigh of relief and stepped away from the overgrown shack. As before, the vines tried to hold him fast, clinging to his shoes like Velcro. Carter took the lead, setting a quick pace, which Pierce was eager to match. Now that he had her attention, Pierce was faced with the question of how to win her over. He decided to lead with the truth.
As they trekked along the now almost indistinguishable path, Pierce laid it all out. The history of the Herculean Society and its mission, the role of Alexander Diotrephes, the connection to Jack Sigler and his team. He spoke in a low voice, trying to exclude Cooper from the discussion. When his narrative broached the subject of a mad geneticist who had experimented on both Pierce and one of Sigler’s teammates, Carter cut him off.
“I know about that maniac. Get to the point.”
Pierce was grateful to be spared the trip down that particular detour on Memory Lane, though he was a bit surprised by her statement. He vaguely recalled that Carter had once been employed by a subsidiary of Richard Ridley’s Manifold Genetics, but the venom in her statement hinted at a much more personal connection, of which Pierce was unaware.
“Ridley is gone, but there are other people who want the same thing he wanted. To exploit the unique genetic properties of ancient chimera species for selfish and potentially dangerous ends. The short version is that I need someone who can make sense of the science on this. I need a consultant, and you are uniquely qualified. You’ve already got a background in…” He gave a helpless shrug. “Weird science.
“I’m not asking you to give up your work here,” he added. “In fact, the Society can supplement you. Funding. Equipment. Personnel. You name it.”
“In return for what?”
“You come with me. Help me figure out exactly what it is that I’m dealing with.”
Carter stopped and looked back at the dark vine-shrouded forest behind them. “I’ve got a crisis of my own here, Dr. Pierce.”
“Surely your team can spare you for a few days. I can have reinforcements here by tomorrow.”
Pierce thought he had finally worn down her defenses, but after a few seconds she shook her head. “It’s not that simple,” she said, regret audible in her voice. “I need to get back to camp before dark.”
Pierce made no further arguments. She was right, for practical reasons, if no other. Although there was still a hint of daylight in the sky, the air was cooling with the onset of evening, and Pierce knew that he and Cooper would be hard-pressed to get out of the infested zone before dusk. His GPS would show the way, but it wouldn’t protect them against nocturnal predators. But he felt compelled to end the meeting on a positive note.
“I’ll make sure that you get some help out here,” he said. “No strings. And I’ll find out what I can about this Van Der Hausen. Maybe he’s involved in this somehow.”
“Thank you,” Carter said. “Good luck, Dr. Pierce.” She started to turn away, but then abruptly pitched over sideways, sprawling on the ground.
Pierce reached out to help, but discovered that he was rooted in place. Literally. A fresh growth of vine shoots had lashed around his feet, wrapping several inches up his ankles. Though none of the shoots were thicker than a thread, they combined to form a fibrous net that was too strong to rip through. Pierce stared in disbelief as more tendrils uncoiled from the ground cover, shooting out like Silly String. As if guided by some intelligence, the vines sought living flesh.
His living flesh.
He could feel the tickle of leaves and stems under his pants leg, entwining with the weave of his socks.
What the—?
Cooper called out, held fast by the sudden explosion of growth. In a matter of seconds, the vines had crawled up to the man’s knees. He started tearing at the tendrils, and succeeded in ripping up handfuls of vegetation, but a moment later, his cries of alarm became an unrestrained howl of agony. Pierce felt a fresh sting in his eyes and nostrils as more fumes were released into the air, but that was nothing compared to what was happening to Cooper. Despite the darkness, Pierce could see smoke rising from the other man’s fingers, as the acid in the vines began to burn through his flesh.
Reacting more from instinct than rationale, Pierce hacked at the ground around his feet. The machete easily sliced through the stems, sinking into the damp loamy soil underneath, but every chop threw out droplets of acid, and a moment later, Pierce was engulfed in a choking miasma. He felt warm spots blooming on the exposed skin of his hands, arms and face, and even on areas that were covered by his clothes.