Meteorite Strike (11 page)

The commander grabbed the release handle of the casket and threw it open. What they saw inside made them both step back…

It was empty.

The commander crouched by the casket and examined the interior. There were signs of damage to the frame, as if someone had been kicking at the lid from the inside. Clearly, the prisoner hadn't been given enough sedative to last the journey. Which led to the question, where was he now?

Both soldiers looked back up the dune to the open back of the truck and then at one another.

“Okay, let's take it slowly,” the commander said.

The other soldier nodded and they started back up the dune, dart-guns raised…

They spotted him crouching near the back of the cab – no doubt trying to get in through the airlock. They'd been sure to lock the door, of course. Sensing their approach, the prisoner made a break for it, running wildly into the dunes. The young soldier raised his dart-gun, but the commander placed a hand on his arm.

“Don't waste your darts,” he said, watching the prisoner fleeing into the distance. “There's nowhere for him to go – he'll die out here within a day.”

The other soldier lowered his gun and nodded, a little disappointed to miss the chance to shoot someone.

“All right, let's get the casket and get back to the base,” the commander ordered. “I'm starving.”

Five minutes later they had the evidence of their presence back in the truck. The prisoner was nowhere to be seen, so they went back through the airlock. Job done – they both agreed there was no need to tell Major Bright the details of how the prisoner had escaped…

Hidden amid the dunes, Daniel watched the truck circle round and depart in the direction from which it had come. As it disappeared into the distance, he stood up and dropped the air filtration unit he'd removed from the back of the cab onto the sand. If his understanding of the cab system was correct from his quick analysis, the soldiers in the truck were now breathing unfiltered desert air – completely virus-contaminated.

Daniel started to follow the tracks of the truck back towards the HIDRA base. The sun began to beat down feverishly on his back and his mouth already felt parched. He hadn't had a drink in what seemed like days and now he faced the prospect of a walk through the desert. Daniel knew it wouldn't be long before his body gave up to the effects of dehydration.

He just hoped that the soldiers succumbed to the virus and that he found the truck before then…

Inside the dome, Major Bright knocked briskly on the door of his superior's office. Colonel Moss looked up from a stack of paperwork, his face dark.

“Problem, sir?” Major Bright asked.

Moss held up one of the papers – a printout of a lengthy email. “Sent by our chief scientist to General Wellman. She doesn't know anything about our real plans yet, but she's a potential problem.”

“I'll keep an eye on her, sir,” Major Bright replied.

“Very good.” The colonel put the printout in his desk and slammed the drawer shut.

“The matter in the desert has been taken care of,” Major Bright continued. “Our men just radioed it through. We're ready to proceed.”

Colonel Moss smiled coldly. “Excellent. Have you briefed the men?”

Major Bright nodded. “Special Forces have been informed we're stepping up the programme, sir. They're ready to institute a full lockdown of the base if necessary. But I don't anticipate problems: these scientists have no stomach for a fight.”

“Good work, Major,” Colonel Moss replied. “It's time we got some real results. Prep the tank for the experiment. I want Sarah Williams to be the first test subject. Project Superhuman is a go.”

15

Robert screamed.

Sarah! Sarah! Help!

She'd been dozing, half asleep although the lights were fully up. They'd taken almost a pint of blood earlier and given her some new pill. It made her feel so tired, she could barely keep her eyes open. She'd been having the strangest dream – something about Daniel and an endless desert. They'd been running through the sand together, desperately looking for something they'd lost…

Sarah!

Robert's voice rang through her brain as clearly as if he was in the same room. She almost fell out of bed.

Robert, it's okay!
she sent back.
Can you hear me? What's happening?

There was no response.

Sarah ran to the mirror and placed her hands on the glass.

“Is there anything wrong, Sarah?” Mandy asked. Something in her voice suggested she'd been expecting some kind of reaction from Sarah right at that moment.

“I want to see Robert,” Sarah demanded. “He needs me!”

“And what makes you say that?” Mandy asked, a note of triumph in her voice, as if she had backed Sarah into some kind of corner. “Is there something you want to tell us?”

Sarah lowered her hands and stepped away from the mirror. Her instinct cried out in her mind once more: that she should keep it a secret from Mandy. But now Robert needed her. Sarah stood motionless, torn between keeping her secret and revealing all in the hope it would get her to see her brother sooner. In the end, it was decided for her.

The door beside her slid open without warning. A stranger stepped into the room. He wore a protective suit and helmet, although one bearing the black and gold of the Special Forces. Sarah judged that he was in his mid-thirties – there was a hardness to his face that she immediately disliked. A nameplate on the chest read
Major Bright.

“You promised to tell us everything, Sarah,” he said, fixing her with piercing eyes as she shrank back on the bed. “But I don't think you've been one hundred per cent honest with us, and neither has your brother.”

“What are you talking about?” Sarah cried out as a soldier in a similar uniform and mask stepped into the room.

“Take her to the tank,” Major Bright commanded.

The soldier grabbed her arm roughly and dragged her towards the exit.

Moments later she was in a bubble and being half led, half pushed towards a building she'd never been inside before. It was larger than the others and stood slightly apart from the rest. Two armed guards on the door stepped aside as they approached. Sarah stumbled on the bottom of the ramp, but one of the suits gave the bubble a push, rolling her forwards in the most undignified way possible. She cried out in protest, but the suit gave no sign of having heard.

Then she was inside the building.

Sarah struggled to her feet in the bubble as a door was closed behind her. She stood at the edge of a tank of water the size of a swimming pool. On the opposite side, two suited soldiers stared back at her in silence. They carried dart-rifles like they'd used at the refinery. Sarah moved the bubble to the edge and looked down at the water's surface, half a metre below. The tank looked as if it was at least four metres deep, the water still but threatening.

Somebody approached from behind. She looked round to see Major Bright standing close to her bubble and flinched away. Up close, he was one of the most imposing people Sarah had ever met. Her eyes were uncontrollably drawn to the long scar running along the right side of his face. It made him look dangerous. Colonel Moss might pretend to be friendly, but this man could never get away with it. Major Bright grinned, as if sensing her fear and repulsion.

“Okay, Sarah,” he said. “Let's see what you can really do.”

He placed a gloved hand on the bubble and pushed. With a cry, Sarah fell back into the tank, powerless to resist.

For a moment she floundered helplessly as the bubble rolled around on the surface of the water. At the edge of the tank, Major Bright held up an object that looked like a TV remote. He pressed a button and immediately the bubble collapsed around Sarah, like a balloon that had been pricked with a pin. The torn material clung to her like a wet plastic bag.

Sarah sank to the bottom of the tank like a stone.

16

Somewhere in the back of Sarah's mind, an instinct or maybe a memory of the life-saving class she'd taken at the local pool back home kicked into gear.

When she touched the bottom of the tank, rather than struggle and thrash against the ripped plastic weighing her down, she calmly pulled it away from her face and shoulders. With all her strength, she pushed her body out of the layers of plastic and kicked upward. Sarah broke the surface of the water a few seconds later and gulped in a mouthful of air.

Looking around wildly, she saw the tall figures of the soldiers and Major Bright walking around the side of the tank. A whirring sound filled the air and she turned, trying to make out where the noise was coming from.
They were trying to kill her!
She fought down that wave of panic and began to swim for the edge of the water, aware of something moving across the top of the tank.

“Try to stay focused, Sarah!” Major Bright called to her from the other side. “I think you'll find this a very interesting experience.”

Sarah ignored the voice, swimming hard for the other side. If she could just get out before they pushed her back in…

Something was sliding across the top of the tank. Sarah stopped swimming and looked up to see a surface like a massive glass window pass above her head. On the other side she could see another surface sliding out. Seconds later, the two met in the middle of the tank with a
clunk
, forming a lid over the water.

Sarah reached up, placed her hands on the glass and looked around. There was about half a metre of air between the water and the lid, with no visible way out at the edge of the tank. She started to feel the claustrophobia of being trapped between the water and the glass, gasping for breath uncontrollably. Sarah closed her eyes and centred herself. The tank was huge. There was enough air to last for hours.

Footsteps approached across the lid.

Sarah opened her eyes to see Major Bright standing above her. Clearly it was strong enough to hold his weight, so fat chance of breaking through. Major Bright looked at her floating below him, like he was studying a bug under glass.

“Sarah, can you hear me?” His voice was piped into the tank through speakers at the edge.

She nodded up at him, powerless to do anything else.

“We're going to try a different test today,” Major Bright continued. “The tank is going to fill with more water. I want you to try to get out before you drown. Okay?”

Sarah stared up at the man in disbelief. He delivered this last piece of information like he was asking if she fancied a diet cola. She slammed her palm against the glass and screamed at him. Above her, he tapped the side of his helmet and shrugged to show that he couldn't hear.

“Try to save your breath, Sarah,” Major Bright said as he turned and walked back towards the edge. “I'm sure you'll surprise us all…”

On either side of the tank, the sound of water churning grew, like taps running into a bath. Sarah wheeled around, aware that the gap between the surface of the water and the glass was getting rapidly smaller. In less than a minute, it was down to thirty centimetres. In desperation, she half-swam, half-pulled her way along in pursuit of the man above her.

“Help me!” she cried, despite the fact she knew her persecutors couldn't hear. “You can't do this!”

But they could do it. And they were.

The water went over Sarah's mouth and nose briefly and she panicked, going under the surface. When she kicked back towards the lid she found that there was less than ten centimetres of air – and that was disappearing fast. Tipping her head back, Sarah took one last, desperate intake of breath and filled her lungs as the tank topped up completely with water.

For a moment Sarah hung there, suspended one metre beneath the glass. There was nowhere to run. No air left. Only water. And death.

With a powerful frog kick, she sent herself gliding through water towards the feet of one of the soldiers standing on the glass. Turning in the water, she kicked her feet desperately at the glass ceiling to attract his attention. The soldier looked down – their eyes met…

HELP ME!
she screamed out in her head.

Behind his mask, the soldier's eyes widened. A jumble of confused images tumbled through her mind: soldiers marching in parade, a plane crashing, Colonel Moss and (most disconcertingly) herself floating in the tank, viewed from above. Sarah came to a sudden realization:
the images were from the soldier's mind!
Somehow, she was accessing them directly. The air in her lungs began to burn like fire and she released it in a cloud of bubbles. With all her strength Sarah kicked the glass again, realizing that she only had seconds left before she started drowning.

DO SOMETHING! BREAK THE GLASS! SHOOT IT!

She repeated the orders like a chant in her mind…

The soldier held her eyes, dropping the dart-rifle to his feet. Not breaking her gaze for a second he reached to his belt and extracted a hand pistol. He aimed it directly between his boots, finger on the trigger. Sarah stared down the barrel, aware that he was about to fire blindly in her direction. In desperation, she arched round and away from the path of fire.

A muffled explosion vibrated through the water…

Sarah looked round in time to see the path of the bullet as it pierced the glass and carried on down to the bottom of the tank, leaving a trail of bubbles in its wake. A split second later, the section upon which the soldier was standing shattered. He plunged into the water, surrounded by a thousand shards of glass.

Not waiting another second, Sarah pushed towards the gap in the lid, swimming through the glass fragments as best she could. Her lungs screamed out for air. She broke the surface and gulped in oxygen with a cry of triumph. Below her the soldier, still dazed, carried on down to the bottom.

Sarah placed both of her hands on the metal frame of the next complete section and pushed herself up and out of the water. She landed on the slippery glass beside the soldier's fallen dart-rifle. Someone was approaching from behind, so Sarah closed her hands over the weapon and wheeled round. The other soldier stood there with his dart-rifle raised.