The Atlantis Gene (The Origin Mystery 1)

“Put him on the train.” She commanded the guards. They kept backing away. Kate pointed the gun at David, then the train. “On. Now.” She backed away from David, giving the men space. They picked him up and carried him to the car, placing him right on the edge. Kate kept the gun on them as she paced to a clump of medical supplies scattered across the ground, no doubt dropped by the frightened workers. What was the priority? Antibiotics. Something to clean and close the wound. She couldn’t save him, but she could try, if only for her own sake.

The guards were running away now and the train was moving faster, away from the building. Kate started to tuck the gun in her waistband, but she stopped and eyed it. Was it still cocked? The hammer was back. She’d probably blow her leg off. She placed it carefully on the ground and gathered as many supplies as she could hold and ran for the train. A few boxes tumbled off the stack onto the ground, but she kept going. She could barely keep pace with the train. She tossed the supplies on; a few hit the edge of the car and bounced down. She grabbed the handle at the door and jumped, landing on her stomach, her legs dangling off. She pulled herself into the car and watched as first the platform disappeared, then the power plant.

She crawled over to David. “David? Can you hear me? You’re going to be ok.”

She reached over and began sorting through the paltry pile of supplies.

CHAPTER 63

David turned in horror as the building collapsed, engulfing him in concrete, dust, and iron. He felt the rubble press in around him, crushing him, grinding into his wounds. He breathed dust and soot, listening to the screams, some close, some distant. And he waited. For how long he didn’t know. Then they were there, pulling him out.

“We got you. Don’t try to move, buddy.”

FDNY. They pulled and dug out around him. They called for a stretcher, strapped him to it, and carried him over the uneven ground. Sunlight bathed his face.

A female doctor pulled his eyelids back and shined a light over him, then tied something around his leg.

“Can you hear me?” She worked at his leg some more, then returned to his face. “Your leg was crushed and there’s a large laceration in your back, but you are going to be ok. Do you understand?”

Kate tied off the wounds to David’s leg and shoulder, but it wouldn’t matter — there wasn’t much blood flow to stop. He already felt cold.

She told herself it was just the cold wind blowing in through the door to the car. The train was moving fast now, much faster than the one coming in. The sun was setting and the temperature was dropping. She stood and struggled with the metal sliding door. She couldn’t close it at this speed.

She collapsed back to the floor, took David by the arm and dragged him to the corner, as far away from the door as she could get. She’d given him a shot of antibiotics and cleaned the wounds as best she could. There was nothing left to do. She leaned back against the wall, pulled him into her lap, and put her legs around his to try to keep him warm. His listless head came to rest on her stomach and she ran a hand through his short hair. He was getting colder.

CHAPTER 64

Beyond the windows of the helicopter, the sun was setting on the Tibetan Plateau. Dorian tried to find the facility in the expanse of green forest. It was just a single column of gray and white smoke now, like a campfire in the untouched wilderness.

“The last train is away,” Dmitry said.

“Drones?” Dorian didn’t look away from the window or the column of smoke.

“30 minutes out.” When Dorian said nothing, the man continued, “What now?”

“Stop the trains. Catalog everyone, including the dead bodies. Make sure our men are in full quarantine gear.”

CHAPTER 65

Kate stared out into the black night. A sliver of a moon cast a small twinkle of light over the treetops that rushed by. Or had rushed by. The train was slowing. But there was nothing outside, just forest.

She slid David’s head out of her lap and walked to the door. She leaned out and looked toward the front of the train, then to the rear. They were in the last car and there was nothing on the tracks behind them. Kate turned to go back into the car, and she saw it — through the opposite door, on the track beside them, another train, sitting there as still and dark as the night, almost invisible. And there was something else: dark figures standing on the top of the train. Waiting for what?

The train stopped, and at almost the same instant, she heard the thunder of boots landing on the ceiling. Kate moved back into the shadow of the car just as the soldiers swooped in through the doorway like gymnasts rounding a high bar. They spread out in the room quickly, shining lights in her face and in every corner of the car. They snapped a zip line between the trains and pulled it to test the strength.

A man grabbed Kate, clipped onto the line, and launched out the door toward the second train. Kate looked back. David. But they had him too; another man, right behind her, held David to his chest with one arm like you might carry a sleeping child.

Kate’s captor led her into a dining car and shoved her into a booth. “Wait here,” he said in Chinese-accented English before turning to leave.

The other man brought David in and plopped him down on a couch. Kate rushed to him. He didn’t look any worse, but that wasn’t saying much. He didn’t have long.

Kate looked around. Maybe there was something she could use. The dining car was about 40 feet long, most of it dedicated to booths, but at the far end was a small bar with a soft-drink dispenser, glasses, and liquor.

Kate ran over to the bar and ransacked it. What was she even looking for? She needed a plan. What did David need? Blood. And to get the bullets out. Well, the bullet. The shot to his shoulder had glanced off of him and the one in the leg had gone straight through. There was just one bullet — in his chest. It was buried pretty deep; it must have been the first shot that hit him. She had to face facts: she couldn’t get the bullet out; that would kill him for sure. That left giving him blood. And she could give him blood — Kate was O negative — the universal donor. If… she could get it inside him.

The train lurched, throwing Kate to the floor. They were moving. She got back to her feet as the train jerked forward in gasps and spurts, picking up speed. Out the window, she couldn’t see the other train, the cargo train they had been on. They were taking them in the other direction. Who were they? Kate didn’t care, not right now.

She continued searching the bar. A tube, or— the drink dispenser. She spun the cart around. Clear plastic tubes ran from the taps to black and yellow plastic bags. She ripped a tube out and sized it up. It could work, but the end was flat, it would never puncture a vein. She grabbed a knife and whittled at the end, sharpening it. Would it work? She ran around the car, surveying the rest of the “tools” she had to work with.