Specimen

  “I love you, Galen. I can’t guide you this time, but I’ll still be tracking where you should be at any given moment. Make sure Wick notifies us when you reach the checkpoint.”

  “I will. You make sure you stick with these guys, and don’t do anything stupid like try to follow me because you think there’s trouble. There’s a four-hour gap in the time I may return to the second checkpoint. No panicking.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.” She smiles up at me, but her eyes are dull. She slides her hands down my arms and grips my fingers.

  “Don’t worry,” one of the soldiers says, “we’ll keep an eye on her.”

  “You better.” I stare him in the eyes, and he nods once, acknowledging my warning.

  If anything happens to her, I’d probably kill the guy.

  “Be careful,” Riley says. “Get in; get out.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I tell her. “You are the one who needs to watch out. If there is any sign of trouble, and I mean anything, do not wait for me. Get the hell out.”

  “I will.”

  I stare at her as I keep holding her hands. I’m afraid to let go, afraid this will be the last time I ever see her. I’m not worried for my own safety, but my heart aches with the thought that something might happen to her when I’m not here. It’s almost enough for me to take her with me all the way to the pharmaceutical company.

  Almost.

  I gently squeeze her fingers one last time before releasing her, grabbing the garment bag with the suit in it, and heading off into the darkness. I need very little light to see clearly, and I glance over my shoulder several times as I put distance between myself and Riley. Each time, she’s still standing in the same place, watching my departure. When I move over the hill and take my final look at her, she hasn’t moved though there’s no way she could still see me from there.

  I have no problems navigating my way to Milton or finding the small building near the pharmaceutical company where I am supposed to rendezvous with Taylor Wick.

  The place looks like an old fueling station. The walls are cement, and there is a wide open space in the front with broken pillars that look like they might have once supported a carport roof going back to the main structure.

  My instructions are to just walk in, but I’m cautious. The front window is dark and I don’t see movement inside. I move around to the back of the place, but there is no window there, just a metal door with a padlock on it.

  Returning to the front, I crouch below the window and peer in, watching intently until I see the dark outline of a person in the back. I circle the form with my eyes, calculating height and build. Though I can’t quite make out his face in the darkness, he matches Wick’s description.

  I open the door and walk in, heading for the back until I’m standing next to the man.

  “Taylor Wick?” I already know it’s him.

  He nods at me.

  “There’s been a lot of talk about you,” he says. “Your designation has been filling up the airwaves for the past forty-eight hours.”

  “Any indication of their plans?”

  “There’s talk of a raid on Martinsville,” Wick says, “but I don’t think they’re ready for that yet. If they are, it’s being kept quiet. They’ve been mobilizing specimen teams of three for the last week, but no information on where they’re being sent. I’ve seen several training sessions conducted in the city.”

  “I need to get ready,” I tell him as I hold up the garment bag.

  Wick directs me to a sink and hands me a couple of towels so I can get cleaned up and dressed. He gives me a razor and a comb as well so I can make myself as professional-looking as possible.

  “About ready?” he asks as I adjust the tie.

  “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  “You’ll have to leave your weapon,” he says. “It will be detected, and we don’t want to have to explain ourselves.”

  I place my handgun on the table, and we head outside.

  I know the route, but Wick has access to the monorail system so we can get there faster. Being on the train makes me nervous though there are only a handful of passengers at this early hour. We change trains once, then leave the station and move to the sidewalk next to a tall brick building.

  Mills Pharmco is written in red over the doors, and the Mills flag flies outside.

  “You’re on your own from here on out,” Wick says. “I’ll be back at the checkpoint until you return. When you get back to the outpost, look at the back window. As soon as I get there, I’ll put a white index card in the bottom right corner. If I have any problems, I’ll put a red index card in the bottom left corner.”

  “Will do.”

  The sun breaks over the horizon as I approach the building. It’s still very early, but I’m not the only one heading to Mills Pharmco. Several people move to the front door, but I pass it by. My destination is a smaller door reserved for executives.

  Glancing around to make sure I’m not seen, I leap over a fence and drop down into an enclosed parking area and make my way to the elevator. My hacked credentials activate the lift, and I press the button for the ninth floor.

  There’s no one in the hallway when I enter, except a young woman at a registration desk, talking on the phone. The lab I need to access is past her, but she doesn’t even look up as I go by. I find the door to the lab, listen closely, and enter when I hear no sounds from the other side.

  The layout is exactly as it is displayed in my head. I go immediately to the cabinet where the Seroquel is supposed to be stored, slide the hacked card through the access slot, and the door opens. There are a thousand different vials of a hundred different drugs inside the huge cabinet, but no sign of what I need.

  It doesn’t make sense. This is exactly where the drug should be stored, but there’s nothing here. There’s an open space where several vials have been removed, all from one area, but no vials labeled with what I came to acquire. The Seroquel had to have been stored in what is now empty space. Someone has come here and removed it all.

  They knew I would need it. They knew I was coming.

  If someone knew I would be coming here to find the drugs I need, that means they’ve been watching for me to try to grab them. I have to get out of here immediately.

  I spin on my heel, and Isaac eyes me from the doorway.

  He’s unarmed but stands with practiced confidence. Nothing about him has changed since the last time I saw him, but he still looks different. There’s remorse in his eyes as he looks at me, and I stand perfectly still, calculating.

  “I missed you, you know,” he says. “First Pike is killed and then you run off. I have no one to talk to during off-hours. I haven’t even been assigned a new team since we’ve been waiting to bring you back.”

  “I’m not going back,” I tell him. “They lied to us.”

  “I have to take you back, Sten.” Isaac takes a few steps inside the room.

  I tense, poised and waiting for him to make a move, but he pauses.

  “You had to know this was going to happen.”

  “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

  “Yeah, it does.”

  The muscles in his legs flex, causing the fabric around them to shift. I know exactly how he will move, how he will attack. I parry, turning to one side and letting him go past me before I punch into his kidney.

  He spins and faces me again. I didn’t expect the blow to incapacitate him in any way—I just need to get myself to the door so I can get out of here. If I’m compromised, everyone else may be compromised as well. I have to get back to Wick so he can contact the others and warn them.

  “It’s no good, Sten. You’ve got nowhere to go. As we speak, they’re raiding the Carson technical center in Martinsville. There isn’t anywhere for you to run. You just need to come back with me so the doctors can get you fixed up.”

  “I’m not going to let them touch me,” I say.

  He jumps at me again, an
d we lock arms. I slam my forehead into his, and he knees me in the stomach. We tussle for a moment and then break apart.

  “You’re just confused,” Isaac says. “You’re broken, Sten, but they can fix—”

  “They lied to us!” I yell at him. “They took away our thoughts, our memories. We aren’t volunteers, and my name isn’t Sten!”

  “They’re filling your head with shit, man! We can end this right now. Just give it up, and I’ll take you both back to Mills. We can go back to the way everything was before.”

  “I can’t do that.” I shake my head. “I can’t go back, not knowing what I know.”

  “You need to be back there, with Dr. Grace. Both of you need to come back home.”

  “You’re not going near her,” I say with a snarl. “Not a fucking chance.”

  We rush each other again, crash into the cabinet full of drugs, and vials spill out onto the floor. I kick, he punches. He attacks, I parry. We’re getting nowhere, but we continue. He grabs me in a headlock and forces me to my knees as I jab him with my elbow repeatedly. There’s a sharp pain in my neck, and I realize he’s trying to pull out the device Spat installed to keep me from being tracked.

  I twist and throw him over my shoulder. Reaching up to my neck, I feel the chip partially detached but not completely. Flashes inside my head are trying to reconnect with it, but can’t quite establish contact.

  Isaac grabs a table nearby and flings it at me. I duck, have to regain my balance, and crouch again, ready for his next move.

  “Don’t make me do this, Sten!”

  “I can’t let you take her, Isaac. You know that.”

  “You just gotta come back, bro. Please.”

  His plea tears through me. I know what he’s trying to do. He’s trying to appeal to whatever bond we are supposed to have. If he had pulled the inhibitor chip completely out of my neck, it might get through to me, but it wouldn’t be enough.

  He knows that.

  He knows if we continue to fight, I will eventually win. The best he can hope for is a stalemate. There are no sounds coming from the hallway that indicate reinforcements have arrived though he has had plenty of time to contact someone.

  Something’s wrong.

  If they knew I would be here, why would they only send Isaac? Why not a whole group of them? Did they really believe he’d be able to talk me down, get me to come back of my own accord?

  Because it’s not just me they want.

  I grab Isaac by the shoulders and throw him across the room before I dart for the door. I slam it behind me and race down the hall, throwing anything I can into the path to make following me more difficult. I head straight to the back stairs and fling open the door.

  I follow the stairs marked “roof access” as I listen to Isaac’s steps following close behind. When I get to the top, I slam the door behind me. There’s a chain on the ground, one that used to bar the door. I pick it up and secure the chain around the latch. There’s no padlock for it, but it should delay Isaac for a few seconds.

  The roof is flat with a short barrier around the outside of it. I head immediately to the edge closest to the next building and look at the gap between the structures.

  I can’t make it.

  I know my physical limitations, and the gap between buildings is just shy of what I can manage. There’s a fire escape with a ladder up against the building, and I might make that if my jump is perfect, but I could just as easily fall to the ground. The impact wouldn’t kill me, but it might slow me down enough for Isaac to get to the ground before I can escape.

  Behind me, I hear the door to the roof slam open with a loud clang.

  There’s no other choice.

  Backing up a few feet, I sprint to the edge of the building and jump into the air, arms out. I fly over the gap between buildings but start to fall too quickly to reach the other side. Extending my arms as far as they will go, I barely catch the edge of the fire escape with my finger tips and grab tight, tensing my shoulders.

  With a jerk, my body comes to a stop, nearly pulling my arms from their sockets. I pause to take a breath before I start to climb up. I hear Isaac yelling at me from the other side.

  “You can’t win this, Sten! We’re going to bring you back home!”

  I take one last look at my friend as I press my fingers against the interface chip in my neck, shoving it back into place. I feel the sting of the prongs followed by a sharp click inside my head as the device reconnects. I have no way of knowing for sure if the interface has been damaged, allowing me to be tracked, so I have to move quickly.

  I speed off between buildings and down alleys, taking a haphazard route back to the edge of the city and then around to the east. The checkpoint isn’t far from here, and I’m sure I haven’t been followed.

  The abandoned service station is deserted and dark, just as it had been the first time I was here. Remembering Wick’s words, I creep forward and check for a card in the window.

  There is nothing.

  No white card, no red card.

  In fact, the window is broken. There’s no shattered glass on the ground outside, so someone must have forced their way from the outside in.

  My skin chills, and I check around the area with all my senses to determine if there is someone else about, but I get no sense of life at all. Cautiously, I head to the back of the building.

  The back door, previously padlocked, stands open.

  Pressing my shoulder to the outside wall just to the side of the door, I tilt my head and cup my ear, listening for anything at all. There is a humming sound of electricity in the walls but nothing else. No footsteps, no shallow breaths.

  I slide through the doorway and inside.

  “Wick?” I call out softly, but there is no reply.

  If he’s here, he’s dead.

  My defenses are on alert as I come around the corner. It’s dark and silent; I still hear nothing. It’s such a small building, I should be able to hear something. Wick should be here in this area. Even if he’s in hiding, I should have some sense of him, but there’s nothing to detect.

  I open my mouth slightly and inhale slowly. The smell and taste of blood is faint but detectable. I follow the scent through a small doorway and into a storage closet full of electronic equipment in various states of disrepair. I find Taylor Wick’s body shoved between two shelves. There’s a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead, but the bruising around the rest of his face tells me his death wasn’t that quick.

  Isaac knew where I would be, and the route has been traced back here. If they found Taylor Wick and questioned him before killing him, they may have discovered my point of origin.

  “Riley.”

  Chapter 27

  I sprint at top speed from the service station to the small town of Marra. I never slow down, and I take the straightest trajectory to my destination. When I arrive, the town looks deserted. Even at this late hour, someone should be out and about, but I see no one. Every structure’s windows are dark, and there is no one on the streets.

  I run through the center of town instead of skirting around the outside. I keep to the shadows of buildings, knowing I’m far more exposed, but Riley is in danger, and I can’t let anything delay getting to her side. I need to know that she’s safe. I need to be there to protect her.

  As I approach the house, my skin prickles with gooseflesh. The feeling is deeper than just a notion that someone is watching me. I don’t know how much is blocked by the chip in my neck, but something is getting through.

  There are other specimens in the area.

  Inhaling deeply, I smell a strong scent of diesel fuel though I can’t see any trucks or anything in the areas that would use it. No one is visible from the outside of the house, but I can see lights on inside through the drawn curtains. I can’t tell if there’s movement or not, so I inch up until I can get a better look.

  In the front room, Riley stands against the wall with one of the soldiers positioned slightly in front of her, pro
tectively. It’s the same man who said he’d look out for her while I was gone. They’re facing one of the other soldiers, who points a handgun at them.

  In the distance, I hear helicopters.

  “Fuck.”

  I slam open the front door, and see Riley and the soldiers jump at the noise.

  “Galen!” she calls as she starts to head toward me.

  Before he can react, I grab the man with the gun, and smack it from his hand. He barely resists me. There’s something about the look in the traitor’s eyes that doesn’t sit well with me. He’s not a man looking to win—he knows he’s going to die. He’s just trying to delay us long enough for the others to arrive. I grab his neck and twist until I hear it crack. He falls to the floor, where I notice the bodies of the other two soldiers.

  “We have to get out!” I yell at her. “They’re coming.”

  “They’re here.” I look to the soldier closest to Riley as he steadies himself and heads for the door. “You two get out.”

  “Get to the back door, Riley!” I yell.

  Riley nods and heads farther into the gutted house toward the metal door that leads to the back room and then outside. The helicopters are landing in the front of the house, and I can hear the sound of boots as they hit the ground. A second later, the front door flies open, and people star to pour inside.

  “Go!” the soldier yells. A moment later, shots ring out, and he falls to the ground.

  “Riley—move!” I yell, and she picks up her pace as I start to head in her direction.

  There are fifteen of them, three of which are specimens. They carry their rifles at the ready. I’m still twenty feet from Riley, and there are too many of them to fight in such close quarters without a weapon.

  Riley struggles with the latch on the door but can’t open it. She’s panicked, and her fingers are fumbling. I press the balls of my feet against the floor, propelling myself toward her so I can get the door open.

  All at once, the soldiers raise their weapons, gun down the Carson soldiers, and then aim at Riley and me.