Dean Koontz - Phantoms

She couldn't just tell Tersch what she had in mind, for she was certain the ancient enemy was listening in. There was an odd, faint hissing on the line…

Finally she spoke of her need for additional laboratory equipment." Most of this stuff can be borrowed from university and industry labs right here in Northern California," she told Tersch.

"I just need you to use the army's manpower, transportation, and authority to put together the package and get it to me as quickly as possible.”

"What do you need?" Tersch asked." Just tell me, and you'll have it in five or six hours.”

She recited a list of equipment in which she actually had no real interest, and then she finished by saying, "I will also need as much of the fourth generation of Dr. Chakrabarty's little miracle as it's feasible to send. And I'll need two or three compressed-air dispersal units, too.”

"Who's Chakrabarty?" Tersch asked, puzzled.

:"You wouldn't know him."?”

"What's his little miracle? What do you mean "Just write down fourdi gefteration." She spelled the name for him.

"I haven't the vaguest idea what this is," he said.

Good, Sam thought with considerable relief. Perfect.

If Tersch had known what Dr. Ananda Chakrabarty's little miracle was, he might have blurted something before she could stop him. And the ancient enemy would have been forewarned.

"It's outside your area of specialization," she said." There's no reason you should recognize the name or know the device.”

She spoke hurriedly now, trying to move away from the subject as smoothly and as rapidly as possible."don't have time to explain it, Dr.

Tersch. Other people in the CBW program will definitely know what it is I need. Let's get moving on this.

Dr. Flyte very much wants to continue his studies of the cream, and he needs all the items on my list just as soon as he can get them. Five or six hours, you said?”

"That should do it," Tersch said." How should we deliver?”

Sara glanced at Bryce. He wouldn't want to risk yet another of his men in order to have the cargo driven into town. To Captain Tersch, she said, "Can it be brought in by army helicopter?”

" Will do.”

"Better tell the pilot not to try landing. The shape-changer might think we were attempting to escape. It would almost certainly attack the crew and kill all of us the moment the chopper touched down. Just have them hover and lower the package on a cable.”

'-This could be quite a large bundle," Tersch said.

"I'm sure they can lower it," she said.

"Well… all right. I'll get on it right away. And good luck to you.”

'-Thanks," Sara said." We'll need it.”

She hung up.

"All of a sudden, five or six hours seems like a long time," Jenny said.

"An eternity," Sara said.

They were all clearly eager to hear about her scheme but knew it couldn't be discussed. However, even in their silence, Sara detected a new note of optimism.

Don't get your hopes too high, she thought anxiously.

There was a chance that her plan had no merit. In fact, the odds were stacked against them. And if the plan failed, the shape-changer would know what they had intended to do, and it would wipe them out in some especially malicious fashion.

Outside, dawn had come.

The fog had lost its pale glow. Now the mist was dazzling, white-white, shining with refractions of the morning sunlight.

The Apparition Fletcher Kale woke in time to see the first light of dawn.

The forest was still mostly dark. Milky daylight speared down in shafts, through scattered holes in the green canopy that was formed by the densely interlaced branches of the mammoth trees. The sunshine was diffused by the fog, muted, revealing little.

He had passed the night in the Jeep station wagon that belonged to Jake Johnson. Now he got out and stood beside the Jeep, listening to the woods, alert for the sounds of pursuit.

Last night, a few minutes after eleven o'clock, headed for Jake Johnson's secret retreat, Kale had driven up the Mount Larson Road, had swung the Jeep onto the unpaved fire lane that led up the wild north slopes of Snowtop-and had run smack into trouble. Within twenty feet, his headlights picked up signs posted on both sides of the roadway; large red letters on a white background read QUARANTINE. Going too fast, he swung around a bend, and directly ahead of him was a police blockade, one county cruiser angled across the road. Two deputies started getting out of the car.

He remembered hearing about a quarantine zone encircling Snowfield, but he'd thought it was in effect only on the other side of the mountain. He hit the brakes, wishing that, for once, he'd paid more attention to the news.

These men would recognize him, and within an hour he'd be back in jail.

Surprise was his only hope. They wouldn't be expecting trouble.

Maintaining a quarantine checkpoint would be easy, lulling duty.

The rifle was on the seat beside Kale, covered with a blanket. He grabbed the gun, got out of the Jeep, and opened fire on the cops. The semiautomatic weapon and the deputies did a dance of death, spectral figures in the fog.

He rolled the bodies into a ditch, pulled the patrol car out of the way, and drove the Jeep past the checkpoint. Then he went back and repositioned the car, so that it would appear that the deputies' killer hadn't continued up the mountain.

He drove three miles up the rugged fire lane, until he came to an even more rugged, overgrown trail. A mile later, at the end of that trail, he parked the Jeep in a tunnel of brush and climbed out.

In addition to the HK91, he had a sackful of other guns from Johnson's closet, plus the $63,440, which was distributed through the seven zippered pockets m the hunting jacket he wore. The only other thing he carried was a flashlight, and that was really all he needed because the limestone caves would be well stocked with other supplies.

The last quarter of a mile had to be covered on foot, and he had intended to finish the journey right away, but he had quickly found that even with the flashlight the forest was confusing at night, in the fog.

Getting lost was almost a certainty.

Once lost in this wilderness, you could wander in circles, within yards of your destination, never discovering how close you were to salvation.

After only a few paces, Kale had m" back to the Jeep to wait for daylight.

Even if the two dead deputies at the blockade were discovered before morning, and even if the cops figured the killer had come onto the mountain, they wouldn't launch a manhunt until first light. By the time the police reached here tomorrow, Kale would be snug in the caves.

He had slept on the front seat of the Jeep. It wasn't the Plaza Hotel, but it was more comfortable than jail.

Now, standing beside the Jeep in the wan tight of early morning, he listened for the sounds of a search party. He heard nothing. He hadn't really expected to hear anything. It wasn't his destiny to rot in prison. His future was golden. He was sure of that.

He yawned, stretched, then pissed against the trunk of a big pine.

Thirty minutes later, when there was more light, he followed the foot-path he hadn't been able to find last night. And he, saw something that hadn't been obvious in the dark: The brush was extensively trampled. People had been through here recently.

He proceeded with caution, cradling the HK91 in his right arm, ready to blow away anyone who might try to ambush him.

In less than half an hour, he came out of the trees, into the clearing around the log cabin.-and saw why the footpath had been trampled. Eight motorcycles were lined up alongside the cabin, big Harleys, all emblazoned with the name DEMON CHROME.

Gene Teer's bunch of misfits. Not all of them. About half the gang, by the looks of it.