Altar Of Eden

With a concerned glance at his own wrist, the pilot finally nodded. “Load up. I want to put some distance between us and that blast.”

Malik climbed into the backseat while the pilot settled behind the stick. In seconds, the engine roared, and the blades cut faster through the air. With a lurch of his stomach, the skids lifted off the asphalt.

Simply breaking physical contact with the island calmed Malik’s hammering heart. He cradled the frozen prize in his lap and stared out the window. Trees dropped away under him. The expanse of the sea spread wide with all the promise of the world.

He allowed a smile to form.

The pilot called back, shouting to be heard. “What’s that smell?”

Malik didn’t know what he was talking about. He sniffed deeply, fearing a gas leak or maybe smoke. They didn’t have time for a maintenance check.

“What are you carrying?” the pilot yelled. “Smells like an animal took a dump back there!”

Brought to his attention, Malik finally noted a rank smell. He had failed to distinguish it earlier, too accustomed to the odor. He smelled it all the time down in the labs. It got into your clothes, hair, even your pores.

He sniffed at his shirt.

It was freshly laundered.

As he lifted his head the odor grew stronger. It wasn’t coming off him. Fear swamped over him.

He swung around to the small storage space behind his seat. His heart pounded as he peered over the edge of the seat.

A bestial face stared back at him with a savage leer. The creature had crammed itself into the tight space. It must have climbed aboard when the pilot was out smoking. Malik noted the old surgical scars-but also the disk-shaped object strapped to its chest.

A flechette mine.

A year ago, Duncan had tested the blast effect on a male specimen who had dared to punch one of his men. Malik had seen the body afterward. All the flesh had been shredded off the bone-and according to Duncan, the specimen had lived for a full minute afterward.

Horror filled him.

“No,” Malik begged. “Please…”

As the creature smiled coldly, a hand lifted to the center of the mine and pressed the trigger.

LORNA HEARD A distant explosion. At first, she feared it was the island blowing up. But nothing worse transpired.

We should have at least eight minutes, she estimated.

But what were they going to do with those last minutes?

Standing with Jack, she continued to watch the silent war being waged between the children and their elders. She didn’t understand it, but she suspected the two intelligences-one nascent and pure, the other tortured and broken-fought for dominance. Or maybe it was something less brutal, a probing for compatibility. Having grown apart, maybe a merger wasn’t even possible.

What would it be like to experience this reunion, to see your children again, but be unable to connect at that deeper level?

Finally, some impasse broke. One of the children reached and took hold of Bennett’s hand. The older man stared down at the small form. His face was bloody, his nose broken when he hit the floor.

Moving with that strange flocklike synchronization, the children suddenly stepped forward and openly confronted the larger mass of beasts and men. The young ones looked unnaturally calm, joining hands in a web that Lorna knew went beyond flesh.

Lorna helped Jack to his feet as the mass of children brushed up to her. A small girl extended a tiny hand. Lorna took it, but she kept a grip on Jack’s fingers, too.

Taking a cue from the children, Lorna allowed herself to be led toward the army massed at the door. The one she named Adam stood his ground.

Then a child in the lead-the tiniest boy from the looks of him-reached out toward the scarred figure.

Adam looked down. A mix of grief and agony played across his face. Instead of taking that hand, he danced back as if fearing the boy’s touch.

But for whose safety: his own or the children’s?

Following Adam’s example, the wall of beasts parted and opened a path out of the room. They were being let go… or maybe cast out. Either way, the tiny boy took the lead, and the children headed out, drawing Bennett, Lorna, and Jack with them.

Within a few steps, Lorna found herself back in the villa’s study. It seemed like days since she had last passed through here.

More of the beasts took refuge here. But they allowed the group to pass unmolested. Moving on, Lorna spotted a group of men farther down the hall. One of them broke away and ran toward her.

“Lorna!”

She could not believe it. “Kyle!”

After seeing Jack, she had hoped her brother might still be alive, but she had been afraid to ask, fearing the answer.

Kyle shoved Jack aside to hug her. “Don’t ever do that again.”

She wasn’t sure exactly what that was, but she nodded. “I promise.”

Over Kyle’s shoulder, she watched Jack cross to his own brother. He spoke rapidly, gesturing. Randy stiffened, twisted around, and headed off with the others toward the front door. One of the men already had a radio at his lips.

Jack returned to them, stepping quickly. “T-Bob is radioing for more pontoon boats. They’ll meet us at the beach. We’ll have to hurry if we’re going to outrun the explosion.”

“Explosion?” Kyle asked.

Rather than explaining, Jack swung away. As he turned he lost his balance. She reached for him, but he tilted and crashed headlong to the floor.

“Jack!”

She rushed to him, dropping to her knees. She had known something was wrong. While holding hands, Jack had been trembling, quaking with what appeared to be microseizures. She already feared the worst.

Kyle helped turn him over.

Through his burning skin, she felt tremors rising up, growing worse. His muscles quivered and spasmed. His eyes had rolled back into his head. Whatever last reserve he had been riding had finally given out.

She laid a palm on his cheek. With her touch, his eyes snapped back into view. They focused weakly on her. His lips moved. She leaned closer to hear.

His breath brushed her ear. His words were few.

“Tom’s gone.”

She pulled back, at first not understanding this reference to his younger brother. Then she saw something in Jack’s eyes, something that perhaps had always been there, something she had tried best not to see, dismissing her own feelings as echoes of another boy, another love.

Tom’s gone.

A tear rolled down from the corner of his eyelid. He had wanted to get this out before it was too late. Perhaps to say even more.

“Jack…”

But he was already gone. His eyes glazed as his body lifted up in a backbreaking arc. His limbs contorted into a full-blown seizure.