Xenofreak Nation (23 page)

Chief Joe’s hand shot out for the gun and Liz ducked simultaneously. The gun went off and the moment Liz dove out of the crosshairs, Scott fired. Unfortunately, Lupus leapt around the corner and also fired. Two darts hit Kareem, one in the belly and one in the side. Chief Joe grappled with Kareem until the gun flew out of his hand into the barn. Moments later the double dose of anesthetic toppled the ARA leader.

“Let’s get that panda!” Lupus shouted, just as the holophone in his pocket, which he should have had on silent, rang.

Scott ran for the barn. Liz lay on the ground clutching her head, and as he got closer he saw that she’d been grazed across the top of her scalp by Kareem’s bullet. Chief Joe knelt down to help her. Lupus beat Scott to the barn door, where he slung the strap of his dart rifle over his shoulder and paused to flip open his holophone.

Scott heard Padme’s voice through Lupus’ earbug. She’d barely said, “Police are responding,” when a scream came from within the barn, the kind of scream a warrior might produce when plunging into battle. A young black woman was rapidly advancing on Lupus, a gun—Kareem’s gun—clenched in both of her hands. Scott’s only weapon was the unloaded dart rifle. Still running forward, he depressed the lever on the dart case and a dart slipped into his hand. Lupus spun around, but the young woman fired point-blank at his torso, then turned the gun on Chief Joe as he threw himself on top of Liz. Scott’s arm went back and with all the skill he’d developed during a childhood of playing darts in the garage with his father, he hurled the dart.

It struck her in the cheek and provided a sufficient distraction to stop her from shooting Chief Joe. She pointed the gun at Scott, and he worried that the hypodermic dart had penetrated the cheek and discharged its contents into her mouth. He had no idea what would happen if that were the case, whether the anesthetic would do its intended work as fast—or at all—if she swallowed it. But she staggered and fell.

Scott ran to Lupus, telling Chief Joe, “Get Liz in the truck!” Lupus was wearing his body armor, but as Scott had feared, when he’d turned away from the gun he’d exposed his unprotected shoulder area. The bullet had penetrated at the underarm and entered his chest diagonally.

Lupus was conscious, but breathing shallowly. “Get the…panda. I’m…fine.”

Scott would have ignored the order if there was anything he could do for Lupus. The best thing would be to get him to a hospital as fast as possible, which was not going to happen.

The job hadn’t gone well thus far, but by a great stroke of luck, the panda was not only in the barn in its crate, but it was also still loaded on the white van the ARA soldiers had stolen from them on the beach. Scott and Chief Joe deposited Lupus into the back of the U-haul next to Liz. Scott made sure to pick up Lupus’ holophone and slip it into his pocket. Then they dragged Kareem and his girlfriend out of the way so the van could exit the barn.

Scott said, “You take the van, I’ll take the truck.”

They didn’t have time to run around policing the darts after all, but before he got into the truck, Scott made sure to get Liz’ earbug out of Kareem’s ear. Then he placed his dart rifle in Kareem’s girlfriend’s hand and strapped his ammunition belt around her waist. Chief Joe chuckled and said, “That oughta confuse things,” but Scott had done it mostly so the authorities would know what anesthetic was used. The dose was intended for a 200-pound man and the girlfriend weighed significantly less than that, not to mention Kareem’s unintentional double-dose.

On the way out, Scott had to drive back over the downed barbed-wire fence and was concerned that the van behind him would pop a tire, but that didn’t happen. He drove the speed limit down the dark country road until a police cruiser passed him. The cruiser wasn’t going terribly fast and didn’t have its lights flashing. Just a routine alarm check.

After the cruiser, Scott picked up speed and didn’t relax until he’d gotten onto the highway. Technically, he didn’t relax then, either. Liz was conscious and tending to Lupus, but he suspected she had a concussion. Lupus faded in and out. Whenever he was lucid, he growled in pain, asked questions and barked orders.

Liz and Chief Joe talked to each other through the earbugs.

“What the hell happened in that barn?” Chief Joe asked.

“Aw, I didn’t even see them,” she said sheepishly. “He had her in a horse stall and was about to get into her pants. I guess he brought her out to see the panda—musta been some kinda aphrodisiac.”

The conversation got personal after that, and Scott took his earbug out to give them some privacy. He’d been driving for half an hour when Liz said, “My head hurts almost as much as childbirth did. What do you think would happen if I stuck myself with a dart?”

“Don’t,” Scott advised. “It’s best to stay conscious with a head injury.”

He heard the sound of an ammo case dispensing a dart. “But it’s an anesthetic, right? What if I take just enough to take the edge off the pain?”

“It’s not that kind of anesthetic. If you stick yourself, I swear I’ll drive to the nearest hospital.”

Lupus’ voice was weak, but his words were strong as ever. “You do that, boy, and I will kill you. I would like some of that stuff myself.”

“Well, sir, I’m going to have deny that request on the basis that the anesthetic in that syringe will knock you out, but will not provide pain relief. Your vitals are iffy enough without you deliberately suppressing them.”

It took Scott a moment to realize the grating sound he heard was Lupus laughing. Scott said, “And while you’re conscious, I’d sure like to know where you want me to take you.”

“You got my holophone?”

“Yes.”

“Call Padme when you get to the city; she’ll give you directions from there.”

Even though Lupus and Liz couldn’t see his expression, Scott kept his face neutral. Inside, he felt an excitement that grew stronger the closer they got to New York City. There was only one place Lupus could and would go. Scott only hoped he’d ingratiated himself enough to survive the knowledge.

Chapter Forty-one

Despite the revelation that Bryn’s father had lied to Dr. Finnegan, the shrink had been reluctant to release her.

“There’s still the matter of your continuing association with your XBestia kidnapper,” she’d said. “And I don’t have a choice but to honor the 72-hour hold because it was court-ordered. We’ll talk more tomorrow and come up with a plan, but at least tonight you’ll be safe here.”

Bryn most decidedly did not feel safe surrounded by crazy people—not crazy like xenofreaks, but certifiably insane crazy. Still, she had a room to herself and they’d given her some anti-anxiety medication that took the edge off. She got the first good night’s sleep she’d had in a long time.

In the morning, she ate a breakfast of scrambled eggs and hash browns with a very flimsy plastic spork. Not long after that, Dr. Finnegan met with her.

“I had a visit from an XIA agent first thing this morning,” she said. “Apparently, they know your father was involved in your kidnapping and are very interested in clarifying his role. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

They talked for a bit longer and later an orderly brought her a bag of clothes. The items were things that had been hidden at the back of her own closet, things she rarely or never wore and hadn’t taken with her when she’d run away. Even before the orderly said, “Your father is here to see you,” she knew.

She put on the too-short black polyester ‘slacks’ she’d been required to wear when she was fifteen working her first job at an ice cream parlor, and the pink acrylic sweater Grandmother Vega had knitted her when she was twelve. It was a tight fit and scratchier than ever, but she supposed she wasn’t trying to impress anyone here.

The Psychiatric Center had a central room with tables and games just like in the movies. It smelled faintly like cooked cabbage. There weren’t very many people in the room, but most of them turned to see the orderly lead in the new girl with the strange clothes and even stranger ‘hair.’ Bryn didn’t know if it was a residual effect of the medication they’d given her the night before, but she didn’t care.

Her father was sitting in an armchair by a window. On the other side of the glass were bars disguised as decorative iron scrollwork, painted light blue, as if the color would blend in with the sky and camouflage the scrollwork’s true purpose. Today the sky was grey anyway, heavy with low-lying clouds; perfect for her mood.

“Brynnie,” he said, standing and coming at her with outstretched arms. She allowed him to fold her into a hug, but didn’t return it. He stepped back and looked at her. “Well, I see I’m a bad judge of clothing.”

In days gone by, she would have smiled; she always had when he tried to make a funny.

“You’re a bad judge of a lot of things,” she said.

She expected him to look wounded—to feign hurt feelings, but he nodded. “I deserve that.”

Her father rarely admitted he was wrong. It had to be a ruse and put her even more deeply on the offensive. “What do you want, Dad?”

“To talk.” He waved to the chair opposite the one he’d been sitting in.

She sat and watched him sit, too. He appeared to be gathering his thoughts, so she said, “Just spit it out.”

“I told you about my plans because our relationship is important to me. I didn’t want—don’t want—to conceal the truth from you.”

Several retorts elbowed each other for supremacy, but she went with, “I don’t know if I can take any more of your truth.”

He gestured to her head, “I didn’t ask for that. I was horrified when I saw what he’d done. I never meant to put you in danger. Or scare you.”

The medicine must still be fogging her brain. Under normal circumstances she would have laughed derisively, but she couldn’t muster the energy it would require. “Dad, I’ve been in a constant state of fear and danger since this started.”

He’d been calm and reasonable thus far, but now she thought she saw that old fervent glint in his eye. It really didn’t take much to get him going.

“I know you think I’m the one who belongs in here, and I’m sure Carla fed you a line of bull, but my intentions were honorable. Sacrifice for the greater good.”

“Then why didn’t you sacrifice your own head?”

“Because no one would care! I’m just a middle-aged nobody with an ax to grind, but you—you could become a symbol for all that was once beautiful and good in the world that became tainted as a direct result of the indifference of our lawmakers.”

“And that garbage about embezzling PHS money to pay for it?”

“Oh, that’s happening. Everything I told you about the dirty politicians is true. They all have their hands out. But I needed the insurance money to pay for…” his eyes flicked upward to her head.

Bryn gulped back an angry response. She already knew why he’d stolen that money. “I still don’t understand why Dr. Fournier would want to help you,” she said. “You’d be shutting down his underground clinic.”

“Let’s just say that like me, he’s got a big stake in legalizing human cloning. Once public tide turns against xenoalteration, the next to go is xenotransplantation.”

“Which saves thousands of lives every year. It saved Mom.”

“No, it killed her. A cloned heart wouldn’t have failed on her.”

Bryn shook her head. “You don’t know that, and I don’t know much about cloning, but I do know they’ve never been able to work out the kinks even with animals.”

“And without government sanction and funding, they never will. Animal rights activists, pure humans, religious doctrine, political standpoints; none united, but all are factors on one side of the fence, and on the other, a vision of the future that can’t be denied. As unacceptable as growing embryos is, cloning will never be able to transcend that stigma and develop other processes if human experimentation isn’t allowed to happen. We are in an era capable of great medical advances but crippled by ethical debate.”

Her father was using all his persuasive powers to convince her. Bryn couldn’t help but think of some of the natural cosmetics she’d used over the years that claimed on the packaging, ‘Never tested on animals,’ as if they hadn’t used the knowledge obtained from companies that had tested on animals to formulate their products.

“It sounds like a debate that can’t be won, Dad.”

“It can if there is a uniting factor urgent enough.”

“What does that mean?”

A rather grim, unpleasant smile formed on Harry Vega’s lips. “History has shown that despite their differences, people will band together under certain circumstances.”

“Like what? War?”

“That. Or pandemic.”

Bryn shifted on her chair again to combat twinges of pain in her backside. “Like a plague or something? Nobody united against the Black Death, more like they avoided each other.”

“That’s because they didn’t understand it. But I’ve said too much. Suffice it to say you are protected in the event that…something happens.”

A shadow fell over her father and they glanced up. Agent Yang and a tough-looking black woman stood over him. He laughed. “I know my rights. You can’t use our private conversation against me in court.”

Agent Yang said, “We can if one of you was wired.”