Hawkins cringed. Had he just signed their death warrants? Instead of answering the question, he asked one of his own. It was a bit of a leap, based on what Green had told him, but the way he commanded these men left little doubt that he was actually the man in charge. “How long have you been running the program on this island?”
The man tensed, but answered. “Since you were still in diapers. Had a good thing going. Real progress. Looked away for a few years and things fell to shit. Too many balls in the air.”
Too many balls in the air? Hawkins wondered. Are there other secret research programs like this one?
“How do you justify it?” Hawkins asked, growing angry.
“Justify it?” Castle said and then chuckled. “Justify it. Are you that na?ve? The modern world wouldn’t exist without research done by people like me. Medicine, surgical techniques, the weapons that keep you and your pals safe, and just about every damn thing you buy in a store, including the grocery store, has a history that would make you squirm. Human experimentation is part of human evolution. Those of us who can stomach it are servants, not criminals.” He shook his head again like he couldn’t believe he had to explain.
“And DARPA? Are they a part of this?” The knowledge wouldn’t do Hawkins any good, but he wanted to know and every second they spoke was an extra second the others had to make their escape.
The man laughed. “DARPA is all brains and no balls. They won’t push to the limits, and they won’t question a black program that’s hardwired into the Mansfield Amendment, which keeps the organization focused on defense and guarantees their generous funding.”
“Sir,” the man with the radio said. “Action Team Beta is waiting.”
Castle looked into Hawkins’s eyes and shook his head again. He stood, pulled his mask back up, and put his glasses back on. “They’re clear to engage. No survivors.”
Hawkins looked to the sky, thinking of Howie. What advice would he give now? Take it like a man? Beg for mercy? Pray for a mira—
Hawkins’s eyes went wide. He twisted his neck one way, and then the other, feigning a last stretch. As he looked to the right, he found his miracle.
The older man drew his sidearm and pointed it at Hawkins’s head. “I’m sorry about this. Really. You’re misguided, but brave. And I respect that. You just have really shitty luck.”
Hawkins looked up, staring into the man’s sunglasses. “Makes two of us.”
The man’s face was covered, but his body language showed confusion as the gun lowered a notch. “What are you—”
“Sir!” someone shouted. “We have incoming!”
The man spun to look.
Hawkins knew he should have run right then, but his eyes were drawn back to the spectacle. The wave of turtle-shelled spiders had not only crested the hill, but had closed in on their position. The hillside shifted with living black all the way to the top, where more of the chimeras emerged over the ridge. It took them a while to scale the steep hillside, but now on the down slope, they ran and leapt with speed and agility unlike anything Hawkins, or these soldiers, had ever seen before.
“Choose your targets. Wait for them to be in range!” the older man shouted before tapping his ear. “All Eagles converge on my position. Shoot everything that is not human.” He holstered his sidearm and took his own M4 carbine from his shoulder.
Hawkins backed away from the line of men. He knew they’d forgotten him for the moment, but didn’t want to remind them by making noise. A moment later he could have sung “The Star-Spangled Banner” and no one would have heard him.
The slow pop of gunfire grew in intensity as the chimeras closed in. Hawkins saw several well-placed shots strike spiders’ exposed heads, killing them quickly. But where one fell, five more filled the gap. Hawkins doubted they had enough rounds even if every shot was a kill.
When the spiders closed in, several of them leapt into the air. That’s when the soldiers unleashed the weapon that might save them. Twin columns of flame arced back and forth. Squeals filled the air as charred spiders emerged from the other side, their burned husks twitching.
The commander tracked one of the flaming spiders as it crossed over his head. He shot it once when it landed. Then he saw Hawkins slowly backing away, fifty feet between them. He raised his M4 and pulled the trigger. But the shot went high as the man was struck from behind. He fell to the ground, a BFS clinging to his back. One of the soldiers shouted, “Sir!” and gripped the shell, yanking the creature away, but not before the creature got in three quick jabs with its stinger.
As the line of heavily armed soldiers fell to the wave of chimeras, Hawkins ran. It wouldn’t be long before the monsters turned their attention to him. An Apache helicopter appeared above, so close that the rotor wash nearly pushed his weakened body to the ground.
He looked up and saw the minigun swivel in his direction. But it didn’t fire.