Jeremy Robinson - Island 731

Bray’s missed swing pulled him forward. He crashed into the shelf, clearing the rest of the specimen jars to the floor, and expanding the pungent puddle.

Hawkins spun with the creature, abandoning the rifle and reaching for his knife. He expected the fast creature to press the attack. It clearly had the advantage in a close-quarters fight. It could outmaneuver the larger, slower men and, using its teeth and claws, could probably inflict a lot more damage. But when it landed, it gave a quick look back at Hawkins, shrieked angrily, and bolted for the stairs.

In the next second, Hawkins felt a wash of relief—they wouldn’t be killed by the creature—followed by a surge of panic: It was headed for Joliet. He ran to the stairs. When he reached the top of the stairwell, he saw the creature dive toward the next flight.

“Joliet!” he shouted as loud as he could. “It’s coming to you!”

“Here!” Bray shouted.

Hawkins turned to find the rifle already in the air, tossed to him by Bray. He caught it and launched himself down the stairs, taking them three at a time. But it was too late. By the time he’d reached the second floor he heard Joliet shout, followed by a savage shriek.

“Joliet!” he shouted again, descending the stairs to the first floor. His panic rose when she didn’t answer right away. “Joliet!”

When he rounded the corner into the first-floor hallway, he wasn’t sure what to make of things. The metal doors in the middle of the hall hung open again. Had she fallen through them again? But then he saw a speargun spear buried in the wall just ahead of the opening. Unlike the others, this spear still had the wire attached. The wire, which had been designed to reel in large fish and could hold a person’s weight, hung through the opening. Had Joliet dropped the speargun through the hatch, or had she fallen in again? Hawkins ran toward the doors, picturing Joliet clinging to the thin wire. “Joliet!” he shouted, looking over the edge.

The water surged past below before falling over the waterfall. Cool, fresh air billowed up, erasing the scent of formaldehyde from his nose, but did nothing for his nerves. Joliet was nowhere to be seen. Hawkins filled his lungs to shout her name again.

“In here.”

Joliet’s voice spun Hawkins around so fast he nearly fell through the hole. Bray held on to his arm, helping him get his balance. Skirting the opening, he entered the room where he’d left Joliet and Drake.

Joliet sat on the floor, hand to her head. “Heard your warning. Opened the doors and when I heard it get close, I shot the spear. Intended to hit it, but the spear missed and stuck into the wall.” She stood and looked at the open doors. “When it saw me, the thing focused on me. Never saw the line. Tripped it up. But it was heavy. Yanked me forward. Hit my head on the doorframe. I dropped the speargun. It must have gone over the falls.”

Hawkins moved her hand away from her head, looking at the goose egg forming.

“It’s nothing,” she said. “Just a bump.”

Hawkins ignored her.

She pulled away and smiled. “You sounded pretty worried.”

He had no reply to that. He had been worried. Very worried. His growing feelings for Joliet weren’t exactly subconscious. But he also knew that she was a kind, attractive woman he had spent nearly every day with for the past month. As a single guy, he couldn’t not be attracted to her. But what he felt just now, when he thought she might be harmed… it felt bigger. He stared dumbly at her, no answer coming to mind. Bray unknowingly came to his rescue.

“I don’t see it anywhere.” Bray stood by the open doors, looking down into the river. “Probably went over the falls.”

Hawkins retreated from Joliet’s eyes and moved across the hall. He picked up the metal hooks and started pulling up the doors. “Wouldn’t want that thing jumping up and pulling you in.”

Bray took a quick step back. He’d seen the way the creature could move.

Hawkins tried to pull the speargun up, but the line was taut and unmoving. It’s snagged , he thought.

Bray tried to pry the spear from the wall, but it held fast. “This isn’t moving, either. Just leave it.”

Hawkins pulled the doors shut and Bray slid the pipe back in place, locking them once again. Bray leaned against the outside wall beneath a window and slid to the floor. He rubbed the sweat from his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. Hawkins knew how the man felt, but didn’t let his guard down. He leaned against the cool concrete wall, but kept his eyes, and the rifle, facing the building’s lone entrance. He didn’t think the creature would return, if it survived the falls and croc waiting below, but he didn’t want to take any chances.

“What was that thing?” Joliet asked.

“Another chimera,” Hawkins said. That it was another chimera, Hawkins had no doubt, but he couldn’t peg exactly what species had been used. Lacking hair, the reptilian chimeras’ individual parts were easy to see. But this had been a mammal, and its dark black hair concealed most details.

“It was just two species,” Bray said. “They were harder to see because the parts were more integrated. It wasn’t like a crocodile with squid parts, or a sea snake with draco limbs and wings.”

Hawkins took his eyes off the entryway and turned to Bray. “But you saw what it was?”

Bray turned to the floor. “Wish I hadn’t. Because it means we’re really in the shitter here.”

“ Bray ,” Hawkins said, the tone of his voice adding urgency.

“The jaw. The teeth. The eyes. The fur. The tail. Maybe the underlying musculature. All one creature.” Bray shifted uncomfortably. “They’re all panther.”

“You’re sure?” Joliet asked.

He nodded. “Even saw the faint spots when it jumped past me.”

“And the other half?” Hawkins asked, though he’d already begun to suspect the answer.

“The rest of it,” Bray said. “The body. The mind. The hands—it had thumbs. Those…” He shook his head. “Those were human.”

Twenty minutes after the encounter, the lab building’s outside door was wedged back in place and held there with a stack of wooden pallets. It wasn’t an impenetrable blockade, but anyone breaking through the door would be slowed down and make a hell of a lot of noise. Their only way out would be the hatch in the floor, so they were essentially trapped, but the long hallway was a far more defensible position than outside, where an attack could come from any direction.

It had been hours since they’d blocked the doors and the sun had fallen below the tree line. Hawkins sat in the hall, leaning against the wall next to the hatch in the floor. He finished reloading the rifle—eleven shots left; ten in the rifle, one in his pocket—and chambered a round. From his position, he could shoot anything coming down the hall and, if need be, quickly kick away the pipe holding the doors up. In terms of strategy it was basic, but simple strategies were usually harder to screw up. And none of them was in any shape to try anything fancy.

Hawkins ached all over from his encounter with the crocodile. Bray was exhausted from exerting himself far more than he was accustomed. Drake’s fever hadn’t gotten any worse, but his wound wasn’t clotting and the captain had yet to awaken. Joliet’s arms were sore from falling through the hatch, but she had weathered the journey better than the rest thus far. But the physical pain couldn’t compare to the emotional toll their journey had taken on them.

Hawkins fought to ignore the recent memories of near-death encounters trying to replay in his mind. But forgetting an eighteen-foot crocodile with writhing tentacles, or a hominid panther-child, wasn’t easy to do. In fact, he felt sure every horrible detail of this island would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. He turned his head to Bray, who sat against the opposite wall, twirling the ax handle in his hands.