Evidently someone had finally gotten close to Bishop after all.
Pierce rolled over on his side and regarded Carter, who was suffering through her recovery. Now that she was no longer encumbered by the environment suit, he was able to really see her. Carter was tall and lean, with the physique of a distance runner. He did not doubt that she was attractive, though in her present state it was hard to say. Her straight black hair was pulled back in a utilitarian pony-tail, though several strands had escaped the elastic band and were now plastered to her angular face.
“I guess now I know why he didn’t come back,” Pierce murmured.
He hadn’t intended to say it aloud, but the effect on Carter was immediate. She flashed him an angry look that hit him like a physical blow. “You don’t know anything.”
“I know that there are people who love him, and are still in a lot pain because they think he died.”
“He did die,” she replied.
“Is he regenning again?” The question caught her by surprise and left her momentarily at loss for words. Pierce decided to fill the silence. “Yeah, I know all about it.”
Pierce thought about saying more, thought about telling her that he and Bishop had shared the strangest of bonds—they had both been used as lab rats by Richard Ridley. The mad geneticist had, at least in that phase of his life, been obsessed with giving humans the ability to regrow lost limbs or recover almost instantaneously from even the most grievous wounds. His early attempts had yielded the desired results, but the healing process was so agonizing that it transformed the recipient into a ravening, mindless—and virtually invincible—animal. Bishop had received a dose of that serum, but had, through nothing more than the strength of his will alone, resisted the effects long enough to find a way to keep the bestial rage in check. Pierce had received a slightly different version of the serum, one derived from the DNA of the mythological Hydra, which had come with its own set of side effects and, unfortunately for Bishop, a different antidote. Alexander Diotrephes and the Herculean Society, had supplied a drug to completely restore Pierce, but the compound had had no effect on Bishop. For several years thereafter, Somers had lived with the knowledge that a serious injury might turn him into an unstoppable rage beast, and given his position as the member of an elite special ops team, the likelihood of that happening was extremely high.
Much later, Ridley had utilized his knowledge of the Mother Tongue to ‘heal’ Bishop of the affliction, permanently stripping away his regenerative ability, or so everyone had believed.
Carter’s reaction was not quite what Pierce expected. Her initial ire seemed to melt away, replaced by something more like sadness. “I honestly don’t know. Something terrible happened to him. When he found me, later, he was…different.”
She took a breath, got to her feet, and then to Pierce’s utter surprise, offered a hand to help him up. “Maybe seeing you will be good for him. He might open up to you. Despite what you must think, I’m not keeping him here.”
Pierce accepted her hand. “I’m sorry. I jumped to a conclusion. It’s just…” He gave a helpless shrug. “We all thought…” He let the sentiment hang. There was too much happening, too many lives lost or in immediate danger. He turned his gaze to the woods. In the growing darkness, it was difficult to distinguish where the vine infestation began. “Is there something we can do to help him?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “We barely had time to make sense of what happened here. But if anyone can survive this, it’s him.”
“So what did happen? Where did this come from?”
“I’m not an expert in plant biology, but I do know that this growth is unlike anything seen before. That tells me it’s not naturally occurring. Someone created this and set it loose here.”
“A GMO,” Pierce said. A genetically modified organism. It was a catchall term that could be applied to any artificially created species, whether the process involved hybrid breeding or the direct manipulation of genetic material in the laboratory—gene splicing. The subject was the focus of intense controversy, with some people imagining a doomsday scenario with created ‘Frankenfood’ crops destroying or outcompeting naturally occurring species, though the vine infestation certainly seemed like that particular nightmare come true.
“I’ll have to analyze it, of course,” Carter went on. “But this didn’t just happen out of the blue. Someone is responsible for this.”
Pierce nodded slowly. “I’ll help in any way I can.”