Great. “Rooms or bathrooms. Anyplace that’s safe. Then get some video on the screen so we can see what we’re dealing with.” I turn to Allyn. “You strapped?”
He opens the lapel of his suit, showing off a holster. “Stunner. One shot.”
“Better than no shots.”
We move to the video screens as Ruby broadcasts the announcements. Through the door we hear its voice, ramped down a notch to sound a bit more calming: Everyone please find a safe place and barricade yourself inside. This is not a drill. If you do not have access to a room, find someplace with a sturdy door.
Even inside the security room we hear cries of confusion, but for the most part it’s late enough that there aren’t too many people out. I watch as the video feeds shrink and separate into small squares, Ruby searching for the most relevant ones for us to be looking at. I know which one I need right now. The most important one. When I see it down in the corner, my stomach flops.
The secured door to the basement is open. “Someone let them out.”
“Who?” Nik asks.
“That’s a not-right-now problem,” I tell him.
A blur darts across one of the screens, appears on another, then disappears again. Ruby reorders the screens so that we can follow the creature’s movements.
And there it is.
I thought these were traditional velociraptors, which only grow to the size of domesticated turkeys. Still plenty dangerous, though manageable. I’m not a paleontologist, I just know which species were popular among smugglers.
These look more like utahraptors, which can grow to eighteen feet long.
This one isn’t that big yet—maybe my size, a bit bigger. A teenager. But still, not something I want to tangle with.
Just ask Reg.
I tear through the security room, looking for the earbuds I know I have somewhere, and find them at the bottom of a cabinet, next to a set of heavy-duty zip ties. I put the box of buds and the ties on the table.
“We’ve got two weapons worth a damn,” I say, thinking briefly of Grayson, who I know is carrying a gun, but I also don’t want him involved. “Allyn, take an earpiece in case we need to split up.” Nik sheepishly raises his hand. “You’re not going out without a weapon. You stay here and monitor video. Watch our backs.”
Ruby whirs to the middle of our little scrum. “I am perfectly capable of tracking video…”
“You’re coming with us,” I tell it. “I need you scouting. You won’t look like a meal to them.”
“I have a question,” Allyn says, holding up the zip ties. “Really?”
“They’re like alligators. All the power is on the down-bite. The ties are rated for five hundred pounds. We get them secured, they’re not getting out.”
“You’re sure about this?” Allyn asks. “What if I stun it and you shoot it.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” I tell him. “You know how many dinosaur assignments I went on. We contain, not kill.”
The first part is only a little true. I haven’t actually zip-tied a dinosaur, but I think the theory holds.
The second part: they’re not my words. They’re Mena’s.
I remember once—this isn’t a slip, it’s just a memory, though sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference—I saw a caterpillar on the pavement while the two of us walked on a warm summer day. I raised my foot to step on its grotesque, torture-device body, for fear it might find its way into my room and crawl into my ear while I was sleeping.
Mena pulled me back. She bent down and put her hand in its path, letting it crawl onto her palm. She walked it over to the foliage lining the hotel and put it on a leaf, where it stuck its little head—or ass, who knows—into the air. Almost like it was doing a happy dance.
I’m disappointed in you, she said.
Just a bug, I said, trying to play it off, but I could hear the hurt in Mena’s voice. I could see that I’d done something she would carry with her for a little while.
We must aspire to end all suffering, she said.
Not even a bug? I asked.
Not even a bug.
What if I stepped on it by accident? Am I dooming myself for all of eternity because I didn’t see it?
Her voice took on a slightly exasperated tone. The intentions that drive the action are more important than the action itself. You were trying to hurt it.
I didn’t think of it like that.
Which is always the problem, isn’t it?
I tried to respond, found I couldn’t. She saw me flailing and kissed me on the cheek. Not even a mosquito, my love. But especially not something that will one day be so beautiful.
Like you? I felt foolish as soon as I said it, in the split second before she rolled her eyes.
I’ve had about enough with the butterfly metaphors. It’s just about being kind.
In that moment, I made myself a promise, that I would leave the caterpillars be. I would carry the spiders out of my room and leave them in the hallway, rather than turn them into smears. Even the big ones.
And if I can contain these things, I will. For her.
I should be scared. I really, truly should be. But my adrenaline is surging. I palm a Retronim out of my pocket and dry-swallow, just to keep me sharp, to stop me from slipping into a memory that’ll freeze me for long enough to get myself dead. I throw a look at Kolten and Warwick and say, “Do not leave this room.”
Then Allyn and I step into the lobby.
* * *
—
A soft, noninvasive alarm drones. There’s no one out that we can see, and hopefully no one is hiding underneath the desks or behind anything. Reg’s body is slumped on the far side of the room, in a pool of blood so thick it’s more black than red.
…droplets of blood pat the blue carpet, turning from red to black as they soak into the fibers…
No. I’m in the lobby.
What was that?
Doesn’t matter right now.
But why am I slipping if I just took another pill?
I keep an eye out for stragglers. As we move toward the center of the lobby Allyn asks, his voice low, “Maybe it’s not the worst idea. Send them outside. They’re cold-blooded, right? Won’t the snow slow them down? And they’ll be easier to track?”
“C’mon, not you too,” I tell him. “Set them loose on the closest town? Not happening.”
“Just talking it out,” Allyn said. “It’s your hotel, Jan.”
I turn to him, risk meeting his eye. “Is it?”
He sighs. “Do you know what it’s like when the president himself personally reams you out? I voted for him…”
Clack-clack-clack-clack.
We both fall silent, trying to track the source. It’s impossible to pin it down. Too many hard, smooth surfaces. The sound bounces like a rubber ball. I tap my ear. “Radio check, you got me?”
“Loud and clear,” Nik says.
“Eyes in the sky,” I say. “Tell me what you see.”
“One in the basement, one on the third floor, nothing on the third one.”
“Anybody downstairs?”
“The CDC had set up shop in one of the conference rooms, but they look pretty well barricaded. It’s pacing outside the door but I don’t think it’ll get in.”