Ted Kosmatka - Prophet of Bones

“That’s probably good. The less you know, the better. I’ve told you way too much already.”

“So that whole ‘forget I ever contacted you’ thing?”

“For your safety.”

“So you meant it.”

“Not because it’s what I want.”

“This is bullshit.”

He shook his head. “I’m not worth the risk. I’m really not.”

“This is ridiculous. So you stole bone samples. What are you worried about, making me an accessory or something? Fine, I get that, but let’s not be overdramatic about the whole thing.”

“I wish that were all this was.”

Her brow furrowed again. “If that’s not it, then what is it?”

“Much worse.”

“Maybe not as bad as you think. What are the chances that this just blows over?”

Paul smiled. He watched the boats. “Zero.”

“There must be something that I can do. My uncle’s a lawyer.”

“No, it’s not like that. You don’t understand how much danger I’ve put you in.”

“I’m a big girl.”

“The last guy who helped me is dead.”

For a moment there was no change in her expression; she looked at him as if trying to decide if he was serious. Finally, she said, “What?”

He nodded.

“What do you mean, dead ?”

“Does it have another meaning?”

“Because of this?” She handed him the bone.

He took it and slid it into his pocket. “Not specifically this, no.” He pulled the Tylenol bottle from his pocket and dumped the lozenge into his hand. “This, too. It’s a DNA sample from bones found on Flores. I did an analysis, and there are people who don’t want the results exposed.” He scanned the passersby, the walkers along the shoreline, looking for anyone who might be watching too closely. He slipped the lozenge back into the Tylenol bottle and put the bottle back into his pocket.

Up ahead, along the walkway, two men stepped into view. They were dressed in khakis and polo shirts. There was nothing unusual about them. Nothing to catch the eye. Other than the fact that they were there.

“I don’t want you involved,” Paul said.

“It seems like I already am.”

“Not if I can help it.”

She shook her head. “I already tested it.”

“What?”

“The bone, just now, today. It’s why I’m late. I tested the bone collagen in the lab at work before I came here.”

Paul glanced at the khakied men. They were closer now, moving quietly. They weren’t talking, weren’t looking out over the water. “Walk with me,” he told her.

He put his arm around her, and they walked in the direction of his car. He looked over his shoulder; the two men had picked up their pace and were thirty yards away now.

“I never would have involved you if I’d known this would happen. You believe me, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he said. “Because now there’s no other choice. It’s time to run.”

“What?”

“Run,” he said. “Now.”

He grabbed her hand and took off toward his car.

She ran. “What the hell?”

“Come on!”

He glanced over his shoulder; the two men were sprinting toward them.

She turned and looked. “Shit,” she said.

Paul fished his car keys out of his pocket as they ran, crossing the small parking lot. He hit the unlock button as he approached his faded old Matrix. The car beeped. From behind another vehicle, a man stepped into his path. He’d been waiting there, hidden between the cars. Paul lowered his shoulder into him.

Lillivati screamed.

The man flew backward, clutching at Paul’s arm, jerking him off balance.

“Get in the car!” Paul shouted. Paul was taller and outweighed the guy by forty pounds, but still it was a close thing. Paul spun the guy over the hood of the car, managing to yank himself free. A moment later, Lilli was in the passenger seat, opening the driver’s door from the inside. Paul jumped in. He slammed the door and hit the locks just as the other two men showed up. They pulled on the door handles on both sides of the car as Paul started the engine.

“Get out of the car,” the first one said. He was mid-thirties and built like a marine.

Paul shifted the car into gear and backed out of the parking space.

“You’re just making this harder,” the marine said.

On the opposite side of the car, the other guy screamed at Lilli, “Open the door!”

Paul put the transmission in drive just as the passenger window smashed in, glass exploding everywhere. Lilli screamed and punched at the hand that reached through. The hand found the inside door handle and pulled. The door came open. Paul gunned the engine, and the man hung on.

“Get out!” Lilli screamed, punching at the hand.

Up ahead a black sport ute backed out of its parking spot, trying to block their way. Paul had to slow, and the man reaching in grabbed Lilli’s shoulder, trying to pull her from the moving car.

“No!” Lilli screamed, clutching now at Paul’s arm.

The car’s seat-belt warning beeped wildly.

Instead of stopping, Paul jerked the wheel to the right—but only a little. He sideswiped the reversing vehicle. There came a loud thud as the open passenger door slammed against the SUV’s rear quarter panel, and the man at the door was suddenly gone. The door was closed again.

Paul gunned the engine, taking the curve at the parking lot entrance at twenty miles per hour. The Matrix burst out onto the city streets, crossing the intersection at Lakeshore Drive. Horns blared.

Beside him, Lilli sat shaking, saying nothing. She gripped the door handle hard enough to whiten her knuckles.

A quick glance in the rearview told him they weren’t out of the woods yet. The black sport ute he’d sideswiped in the parking lot was now following.

Paul pushed the little Matrix as fast as it would go, swerving in and out of traffic. On a straightaway, he’d be no match for the V-8. But in this kind of congestion, the tiny Matrix actually had the advantage.

Paul took the turn onto Michigan Avenue at ten miles per hour, earning more blaring horns.

“Those guys were sent by your lab?”

“No.”

“Then who?”

“It goes a lot higher up than that.”

Paul took a left, then a right. They were downtown, skyscrapers looming above them, deep in a canyon of buildings. He checked the rearview every five seconds. For a minute, he thought he’d lost them, but then he saw the black SUV behind them again, half a block back. Up ahead, a red light. Traffic stopped.

“This isn’t good,” he said. They were in the right-hand lane, but the street ahead was a one-way, no right turn.

From somewhere behind them in traffic, the sound of screeching tires. Car doors. Shouting voices.

Paul saw them in his side mirror then. Two suited men running between the stopped lanes of traffic. The men closed the distance. A moment later, they were there. The left rear window exploded inward as the butt of a gun connected. Paul hit the gas, cutting the wheel to the right.

Tires squealed again, more blaring horns, and he was suddenly going the wrong way down Randolph. Into a wall of oncoming vehicles.

A truck swerved out of the way—and then the car behind it, with no time to react. Paul clipped mirrors with an oncoming BMW.

Paul laid on his horn, hoping to catch the attention of oncoming traffic. He took the first right, driving under the L train, and merged back into the flow of traffic. The city shadows deepened. An urban canyon.

“That was too close,” Paul said.

Beside him, Lilli was still silent. Still gripping the door handle. Broken glass glittered in her hair.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded stiffly but didn’t look at him.

Paul took Wabash through the stoplight and continued on.