She jerked her head over her shoulder, nodding toward his gallery of horrors. “Pretty much.”
“Everything I did was for the greater good of humanity. My research opened new frontiers of understanding. Though the medical and scientific community would never admit it, my work at Birkenau made possible nearly every significant medical advance of the last century. Finding Echidna will be the key to the advances of the next.”
Fiona was unmoved by the grandiose claim. Tyndareus would be able to do what he suggested, but he would use it as a weapon to enslave or destroy anyone he deemed unfit, feeding them to his carnivorous plants. But that was a long range problem. The question of what to do now remained.
Live dog or dead lion? The answer was simple enough. A live dog could still bite.
“Show me the map.”
38
Roraima, Brazil
Pierce tackled Carter, throwing them both backward, off the artificial island and into the shallow water near where Lazarus lay. The two flying shapes swooped past them, and even in the low light, Pierce could make out the distinctive outlines of wings and tail feathers. Birds, but not like any birds he had ever seen before.
The birds wheeled around and lined up for another pass.
“Down!” Pierce shouted, and then he plunged his head under the surface.
A strange rapid-fire popping noise reverberated through the water. He felt a series of percussion claps against his back, and then a searing pain stabbed through his right butt cheek. He howled into the water and thrust his head above the surface. He reached back, groping for the site of the wound. His fingers brushed against something that sent a fresh throb of pain through his buttocks. Whatever had caused the injury was still there, sticking out of him like an arrow.
The natives of the Amazon hunted with blow darts and arrows, and often tipped their missiles with poison. But other than the pain of the puncture wound, he felt nothing. He had been attacked, but not by natives.
Something moved beside him, bringing him back to the moment. Carter had her arms around an unresponsive Lazarus, holding his head up out of the water. Pierce saw that she was uninjured, and then it occurred to him that the danger was not yet past. He glanced skyward and saw two dark shapes silhouetted against the violet sky, turning slow circles like vultures.
“Come on,” he said through clenched teeth. “We need to get to the trees.”
Carter seemed about ready to protest, but then nodded. “Help me with him.”
Careful not to jostle the projectile lodged in the meat of his buttocks, Pierce looped one of Lazarus’s massive arms around his shoulders. Carter took the other, and they headed for the nearest stand of cypress trees. It was more than two hundred yards away, and with the added burden of Lazarus’s dead weight, they made slow progress. At first, Pierce thought he could feel the skewering object digging deeper with every step and the tingle of poison spreading through his veins—both sensations were probably just in his imagination—but before they had gone a quarter of the way, his foot snagged on a submerged root. He stumbled, and as he pitched forward into the water, he felt Lazarus go down, taking Carter with him.
The sudden immersion roused the big man. He jolted up out of the water, but after looking around for a moment, he pulled both Pierce and Carter to their feet and urged them at a near run, to the safety of the trees.
Pierce’s backside burned with pain, but two things quickly became apparent. The birds were not going to attack again—in fact, they had disappeared from the sky—and the object lodged in his backside was not tipped with poison.
It still hurt like hell, though.
Carter’s focus was on Lazarus. There was a large gash in the center of his combat vest. Whatever had struck him had torn through both the overlaying fabric and the layer of woven Kevlar underneath, laying bare the ceramic small arms protective insert—SAPI—plate. The tombstone-shaped armor plate could stop a round from an AK47, but whatever had hit it had cracked it in two. Without asking permission, Carter tore open the vest and laid bare Lazarus’s broad chest.
The skin underneath was unbroken, but there was a bright red outline in the shape of the SAPI plate, and the beginning of a bruise.
“What was that thing?” Lazarus asked. His voice was tight, as if speaking or even breathing was painful. “It felt like a cannonball.” He looked at Carter for a moment, scrutinizing her for any sign of injury, then at Pierce. “Are you okay?”
“Not exactly,” Pierce admitted, and he turned to show them his wound. “I’ve got this pain in the ass.”
Carter stifled a laugh, then said, “What is that? It looks like a porcupine quill.” She bent over for a closer look.