Bestiary

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Carter was so absorbed in the work that at first he didn’t even feel the cell phone vibrating in his pocket. He’d turned off the ring the second he came into the museum; he didn’t want anyone — especially Gunderson — finding out he was there, on a national holiday yet, concealed in a storage closet, in the sub-basement, working on the most volatile discovery the La Brea Tar Pits had ever yielded. He’d never be able to finish explaining.

“Look at this fracture line,” Del was saying, indicating with a scalpel a crack in the skull near the temporal lobe. “Tell me that’s not from a blow.”

The phone vibrated again, and this time Carter noticed. “Hang on,” he said.

The connection, as usual down here, was terrible. But it was Beth, and she sounded agitated. She was saying something about… Arius.

“Slow down,” Carter said, instinctively turning away from the table and stepping out in the corridor. “You’re breaking up.”

“Arius,” she said again, “was here, at the Getty.”

Was it just another scare — several times they had thought there was evidence that Arius had survived, and was stalking them — or was it for real this time? Despite all their suspicions and fears, neither of them had ever seen or encountered him for sure.

She was saying something else, but it was coming through in bursts of static.

“I can’t hear you,” Carter said, wondering if she could hear him, either. “Are you okay? Is Joey okay?” That was the crucial thing.

“Yes.”

He heard that. Then something that he couldn’t make out. Then: “… on the tram. I’m going home right now, to Joey. The fires are spreading.”

“What fires?”

“… from fireworks maybe…”

Fourth of July fireworks had already started a wildfire? It was only late afternoon — he’d thought the danger would have come after nightfall.

“Not in Summit View…,” she was saying, “but above Sunset, the Palisades… Bel-Air.”

At the mention of Bel-Air, his ears pricked up. There were fires, approaching Bel-Air? The al-Kalli estate? The bestiary?

“I’ll call you at home,” he said, but already he sensed that the line had gone dead. “Beth — can you hear me?” He could tell that the line was still open, but he had no idea if he was transmitting. “I’m leaving now. I’ll see you at home as soon as I can get there. Beth?”

But the line was definitely dead.

He stuck the phone back in his pocket, went back into the converted storage closet, and said, “I’ve got to go — right now.”

Del looked stunned, and a little bit pissed; Carter knew that Del had been irritated lately by Carter’s elusiveness and seeming lack of commitment to the project at hand. More than once Carter had wished he could simply explain it all to him — not only because he hated to be so evasive with one of his oldest friends, but because he would have welcomed Del’s insights and opinions. Sitting up in Bel-Air, of all places on earth, was, without a doubt, the most astounding discovery in the history of the animal kingdom, a revelation second only to Darwin’s, a glimpse into the earliest origins of reptilian, mammalian, and avian life, and no one would have understood all that more deeply than Del.

“What do you mean, you’ve got to go? We’ve got the whole place to ourselves today — you know how much work we could get done in the next few hours?”

“I do, and I’m sorry.”

Del shook his head and sighed, then dropped the scalpel on the worktable. “Someday, Bones, you’re going to have to tell me what’s really going on.”

“I will,” Carter said, “I swear.”

Carter was already turning to leave when Del said, “So where are we going now?”

And it was only then that Carter remembered he didn’t have his car there; Del had picked him up, and they had planned to go for a hike after working for a few hours at the museum. Del had said there was something he wanted to show him.

Del laughed at the look on Carter’s face. “You forgot, didn’t you?” he said, jangling his car keys in the air. “I’m driving.”

Carter was speechless, wondering what to do next.

Del laughed again, and after quickly covering the remains, grabbed his backpack off the floor, and said, “Now, my friend, you are in my power! You will have to reveal your secret destination.”

Del headed out the door and marched down the corridor, his white hair flying. “Don’t forget to turn out the lights,” he said over his shoulder.

Damn, Carter thought — of all the days to carpool. He snapped the lights off and followed Del, who was heading not for the elevator — that would have required enlisting Hector’s help again — but the stairs to the atrium garden.

The garden where the bones of the La Brea Woman were now lying in an unmarked grave.

Another secret he had never shared with Del.

Outside, where Carter finally caught up to him, a hot Santa Ana wind was blowing. The air was parched and brittle. Del hopped up into the cab of his dusty truck, an all-terrain vehicle perched on monster tires, with a gun rack on top and a dinosaur decal on the bumper, and Carter clambered into the passenger seat. Carter was calculating fast — would it be worth it to have Del drive him home first, where he could pick up his own car, or should he just have him drive straight to Bel-Air? He glanced over at Del, who had the motor rumbling and the truck in gear.

“Where to, boss?”

“Bel-Air,” Carter said.

“Yeah, right. Where really?”

“Really.”

And Del could tell he meant it. “The mystery gets better and better.”

Carter rolled down the window as they drove out of the parking lot. Red, white, and blue bunting, wrapped around the streetlight poles on Wilshire Boulevard, flapped and rustled in the breeze. A bright sun beat down from behind a veil of wispy cirrus clouds. Carter was wondering what, if anything, he should reveal to Del when they got to al-Kalli’s estate. There was no reason he had to tell him, or show him, anything of the actual bestiary. Sure, he’d be curious, but Carter could always hold him off for now, and maybe, just maybe, he’d run into Mohammed al-Kalli himself and be able to persuade him that Del was a trusted and very valuable colleague, one whose advice and counsel might be of great help to the animals. That would be the best outcome of all… however unlikely it seemed.

Traffic was light as they drove, but twice they had to stop for fire trucks, their horns blaring, as they raced past. In the distance, Carter could hear other sirens blaring, too. The streets had an uneasy calm about them, a feeling Carter remembered from the Midwest when tornado weather came. He turned on the radio, and the sounds of a bluegrass band wailed from the powerful speakers. Carter quickly changed to an all-news station, and the announcer was saying something about a blaze that had erupted about fifty miles south of Los Angeles, near Claremont. “San Bernardino County has put all of its firefighters on alert for the Fourth of July,” the announcer said, “and, unfortunately, it looks like they won’t be sitting idle.”

At least those fires were far off. But even here, as Del piloted the truck toward Bel-Air, the air had a faintly acrid odor.

Carter fished in his pocket for his cell phone to call Beth. By now, she’d be safely home, but he wanted to make sure. He dialed, but he could barely hear a ring; he tried again, and this time he checked the battery. It was nearly dead; maybe that was why he’d had such trouble downstairs in the museum. He’d just assumed it was because of the location.

“Calling Beth?”

“My battery’s gone.”

“Wish I could help you out,” Del said, “but you know I don’t even carry one.”

Carter did know that. Del always said that when he wasn’t near a phone, he didn’t want to be near a phone.

“You want me to stop and find a pay phone somewhere?”

“No, that’s okay,” Carter said. “We’re making good time. Just keep going.” The sooner he arrived at the al-Kalli estate and made sure that everything was okay — he was a little worried that the air filters might need adjusting — the sooner he could go home for the night. Some holiday this was turning out to be.

At the gates to Bel-Air, several expensive cars were backed up, waiting to pull out onto a crowded Sunset Boulevard. Carter had never seen more than the lone Rolls-Royce or Jaguar waiting there at one time.

“Friends of yours?” Del asked as he drove the truck past a Bentley with an elderly couple in the front seat and two big black poodles hanging their heads out the back.

“Intimate.”

“Do I just keep going?” Del asked, and Carter said, “Yep, all the way to the top.”

Del clucked his tongue. “You do travel in the right circles, Bones.”

Carter didn’t answer.

“But you want to tell me why we’re going up there?” Del said.

And Carter felt that he couldn’t simply stonewall him anymore.

“There’s a man up here named Mohammed al-Kalli. I’ve sort of been working for him.”

“Moonlighting?” Del said with a puzzled smile. “Doing what?”

“He’s an amateur… naturalist.”

Del laughed. “A naturalist? Come on, Bones — nobody’s been called that for a hundred years. You’re going to have to do better.” He slowed the truck. “Right or left up here at this fork?”

Carter pointed to the right, and Del switched to a lower gear for the steeper climb. Carter thought about what more he could say; he knew he was just making things worse, and more mysterious, by being so evasive.

“He’s a very wealthy man—”

“That much I could figure,” Del said, glancing around at the increasingly rarified precincts they were driving through.

“—and he has asked for my advice — my help — with some animals he’s been keeping.” Already Carter thought he had gone too far; al-Kalli would have his head if he knew.

Del mulled that one over as he drove. “Some animals?” he said contemplatively. “What kind of animals? No disrespect, Bones, but the only animals you know anything about have been extinct for a very long time.”

Carter had skated right up to the edge of the truth, but until he had to — or until al-Kalli had given him his express permission — he didn’t feel he could say any more. “Bear to the left up here,” Carter said, and Del steered the truck past a tall, perfectly manicured hedge that ran for hundreds of yards. “You’ll keep on going until you see a stone gatehouse,” Carter said, “at the very top.”

He didn’t reply to Del’s last observation, and he knew perfectly well that Del was still waiting.

As they came up toward the crest, the gatehouse appeared at the end of the road. Carter could see Lee, the Asian guard, standing outside it, shading his eyes with his hand as he looked off toward the east.

“Next stop,” Del said, breaking the silence, “Jurassic Park.”

Carter cut him a glance, but Del didn’t look like he’d actually figured anything out. How could he? He was just making a joke. But if only he knew how close to the truth he’d come.

Lee turned and held up his palm as the truck approached the gate; of course he wouldn’t recognize the vehicle. When Del stopped and rolled down his window, Carter leaned toward the driver’s side and said, “Hey, Lee.”

“Oh, Dr. Cox,” Lee said. “Was Mr. al-Kalli expecting you?”

“No, I’m just here to catch up on some work.” Carter knew that even the security staff was told nothing about the bestiary. It was strictly on a “need-to-know” basis, and as far as Carter could tell, that “need to know” didn’t extend very far: it took in Rashid and Bashir, who tended to the animals, Jakob the bodyguard, and that new guy, Derek Greer, the ex-army captain with the bad attitude. Carter wasn’t sure if al-Kalli’s son, Mehdi, even knew, though it would have been one hell of a secret to keep from an inquisitive teenage boy.

“You can smell the smoke, even up here,” Lee said, pressing the lever to open the gates. “The peacocks, they’re going crazy.”

Del gave him a look, as if to say, Peacocks? and Carter just gestured for him to move on.

“Make damn sure you don’t drive over any,” Carter said. “Al-Kalli is very attached to his birds.”

“Curiouser and curiouser” was all Del said as he maneuvered up the long, winding drive, past the splashing fountain and into the forecourt of the great gray house. Two cars were there already: al-Kalli’s long black Mercedes, and a cobalt blue Scion, with a surfboard lashed to its top. The huge oaken door swung open, and although Carter might have expected to see al-Kalli, it was instead Mehdi, with a couple of his young friends. They were carrying towels and coolers and wearing flip-flops, and as they piled into the Scion, Carter asked, “Where’s your father, Mehdi?”

While loading his gear and without turning around, Mehdi said, “Somewhere over there,” lifting his chin toward the western portion of the estate. Mehdi had a way of making you feel like a servant.

The bestiary was in that direction, and Carter didn’t doubt that was where he was. Even with all the air-conditioning equipment and temperature controls working fine, the animals would be sensitive enough to register that something was going on, and al-Kalli would be worried. Rashid, if Carter’s guess was correct, was probably in a panic.

And now, here was Carter accompanied by an unofficial interloper.

“Just come with me,” Carter said to Del, getting out of the truck. “And promise me you won’t do or say anything until I tell you to.”

“You know, Bones, it’s a lucky thing I’m not the type that gets easily offended.”

“I was counting on that.”

With Carter leading the way, they trotted around the garage wing of the courtyard and then across the sweeping green lawn.

“Doesn’t look like this guy has been observing the drought restrictions,” Del said.

“Al-Kalli lives by his own rules,” Carter said.

“Looks like he can afford to.”

As their footsteps clattered across the wooden footbridge, they heard a loud, strangled cry from a grove of trees. Glancing over, Carter could just make out one of the peacocks, its purple and blue tail fanned out in all its glory.

“There’s more of those?” Del said from close behind.

“Maybe a dozen,” Carter said. “I’ve never counted.”

They passed the stables, which looked as if they were almost empty. The stall doors were open, and a sleek white horse was being led out by Bashir, the stable boy. He raised a hand in greeting as Carter and Del jogged past, then went back to leading the visibly skittish horse.

“Where’d this guy get all his money?” Del said, barely huffing or puffing.

“It’s very old money.” The top of the bestiary building was just coming into view past a scrim of trees. “From Iraq.”

Del whistled. “Friend of Saddam’s?”

“Nope,” Carter replied. “His sworn enemy.”

As Carter slowed down, Del did, too. “Someday,” Del said, “when we’re not on the run, you can explain it all to me. Sounds like a hell of a story.”

“It is.” But Carter was already on the alert, approaching the white walls of the bestiary; the golf cart was parked just outside.

“What’s this?” Del said. “A high-tech barn?”

“Kind of.” Carter turned to Del. “Now, you’re just going to have to trust me. I want you to stay out of sight. Get behind those trees,” he said, indicating a pair of ancient eucalyptus trees with thick, gnarled trunks, “and don’t come out until I signal you to.”

Del chuckled, like what kind of a game was this. “Okay. But what do you want me to call you from now on — Bond, James Bond?” He thought Carter must be joking.

Carter stepped closer and looked him straight in the eye. “I mean this, Del. I shouldn’t have brought you even this far. These can be dangerous people. You’ve got to do what I’m telling you.”

Del got it; the look on Carter’s face was unmistakable. “Okay, Bones. I hear ya.” And he moved off behind the trees.

As Carter approached the bestiary doors, he could smell smoke, but this was just the cigarette kind. He even knew who was probably smoking.

“Captain Greer?” he called out, and Greer stepped out from the other side of the building, cupping his cigarette in his hand.

“What are you doing here, Cox?” Greer asked. “It’s a holiday. Take a break.”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“And I wouldn’t answer.”

Carter never knew what footing he was on with Greer; they usually engaged in this same sort of macho banter, but with Greer there was always an edge of danger to it. Carter couldn’t tell if Greer regarded him as a threat of some kind, or just another one of al-Kalli’s lackeys.

“Is he inside?” Carter asked, and Greer nodded.

“But you don’t want to cross him right now,” Greer added, stubbing out his cigarette on the gravel path. “He’s tearing Rashid a new asshole.”

Carter wasn’t surprised. Ever since Carter had begun working with the animals, he had seen, many times firsthand, the contempt, and even physical abuse, with which al-Kalli treated Rashid. And it never failed to occur to Carter that, unless he was somehow able to restore the animals to perfect health, it was just a matter of time before that same fury was directed at him. He did not doubt that al-Kalli had it in him to take any measure he chose, however dire, against those he considered his enemies, or his incompetent subordinates.

“I expected the animals to be restive,” Carter said. “Maybe I can do something.” And he went to the doors and pressed the release button; Greer limped along close beside him, and it occurred to Carter that Greer was trying to make it look to al-Kalli as though Greer was escorting him in, doing his job as security chief and monitoring everyone’s comings and goings. Around al-Kalli, no one was ever off duty, or on a sure footing.

Certainly not Rashid. Just as Carter entered the bestiary, he saw al-Kalli lift his open hand and deliver a stunning slap to Rashid’s cheek, a slap that sent him down to his knees.

“Why don’t you know?” al-Kalli was shouting, as Jakob stood by, arms folded across his chest. “This is your job! This has been your family’s job for centuries! I paid for the best training in the world!” He put his foot on the man’s chest and shoved him backward onto the dirt floor. “I should have fed you to them years ago!”

“But no one knows about creatures like these,” Rashid pleaded, his open lab coat spread around him. “There are no books, no papers to read.” His eyes suddenly took in Carter and Greer. “But here is Dr. Cox!” he said exultantly. “Perhaps he can help! Yes, Dr. Cox may know!”

Al-Kalli turned around, and the look of absolute contempt on his face barely changed. He wasn’t wearing his customary suit today — just a pair of perfectly tailored dark trousers and a crisp white shirt with billowing sleeves; ruby links gleamed like flame at the cuffs. His bald head shone in the bright overhead lights. “Dr. Cox, you’ve come at an opportune time,” he said, sounding like an English aristocrat welcoming the family physician to the manor house. “The animals are restless and agitated today.”

“I thought they might be,” Carter said. “Their sense of smell is highly developed, and even the hint of smoke from the wildfires might have alarmed them.”

“I thought we had an air filtration system for that.”

“We do. But it’s even possible that they’re picking up some sort of vibrations through the earth. Some animals can sense earthquakes coming — perhaps these can sense the fires.”

Al-Kalli shook his head derisively. “‘Perhaps’ they can do this, ‘it’s possible’ they can do that. I’m sorry to say it, but you’re starting to sound as bad as this worthless scum Rashid.”

Carter couldn’t stand it a second longer, and he started to move toward Rashid with his hand extended to help him up.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that,” al-Kalli said in a low but menacing tone. “We have an old saying, ‘Let the dead lie where they fall.’”

Jakob stepped between them and unfolded his arms.

“I told you, when I hired you,” al-Kalli went on, “that I would give anything at all to the one who could restore my creatures to health.”

“We’ve made progress already,” Carter said, though he did not try to circumvent Jakob.

“What I did not tell you,” al-Kalli went on, completely ignoring what Carter had just said, “was that I would show little patience with those who failed. That’s only fair, don’t you think?”

While Carter debated how to reply, he saw al-Kalli look with amazement toward the open doors of the bestiary. Jakob reached into the waistband of his black trousers, but before he could pull out the gun that presumably rested there, Carter heard a voice call out, “Don’t even think about it, raghead!”

Carter turned around, as did Greer, and what he saw was a man in army fatigues, a big man with close-cropped hair and a knapsack slung over one shoulder, striding into the arena with a gun hanging loosely from one hand. Even worse, fanning out behind him were two more men, also in army gear, each one holding, incongruously, an aluminum baseball bat.

Only Greer seemed to know instantly what was going on.

“Sadowski,” he said, shaking his head, “this time you’ve really fucked up.”

“That so? Sure doesn’t look that way to me.” Sadowski looked around at the vast facility. “This that zoo you were talking about? ’Cause I don’t see any critters.”

Al-Kalli leveled a glare at Captain Greer. “You know this man?” he said. “You told him about this place?”

At that moment, Carter recognized him — this was the guy he and Del had run into on the hiking trail in Temescal, the guy who’d attacked the girl and her boyfriend. He also knew there was a strong possibility that if everyone wasn’t very, very careful over the next few minutes, somebody could wind up hurt, or worse.

“He served under me in Iraq,” Greer said.

“Whatever your name is — was it Sadowski?” al-Kalli said, addressing the intruder, “you’re trespassing, and I would be within my rights to kill you on the spot.”

Sadowski raised the gun a few inches and, in answer, fired a round into the dirt in front of al-Kalli’s feet. But al-Kalli, to Carter’s astonishment, didn’t so much as flinch; he behaved as if he were invulnerable.

The animals heard the shot, though, and suddenly there was a howl from the griffin’s cage, a rumbling snort from one of the basilisks. The phoenix, from its perch high above them, let out a piercing scream, a thousand times worse than the cry of the peacocks, and even Sadowski looked up, rattled.

“What the fuck is that?” he said. The monstrous bird was still concealed in its straw-filled nest.

“You don’t want to know,” Greer said. “You and your boys just want to get out of here… while you still can.”

Carter didn’t know what he feared more — harm coming to one of the people present, or harm to the animals, surely the last of their kind, that had by some miracle survived for millennia.

“What is your plan, soldier?” al-Kalli taunted him. “Or are you as stupid as most Americans — blundering in where you have no business, and with no idea of how to get out again?”

“Oh, I’ve got a plan,” Sadowski said. He glanced at a massive black and chrome wristwatch. “And trust me — you’re going to find out all about it.”

“And what do we do until then?”

Carter heard a metallic screech, and saw Rashid, who had quietly gotten to his feet, yanking a lever in the concrete wall.

Sadowski shouted, “What are you doing?” at him, but Rashid simply turned and ran toward the glassed-in office at the far end of the bestiary, zigging and zagging with his cupped hands attempting to protect the back of his head. Sadowski cursed, and fired another round, the wild shot sparking off the bars of the griffin’s cage.

The phoenix screamed again, and this time Carter knew it would emerge from its aerie. He looked up just as its massive hooked beak poked over the edge of its nest and its claws, in preparation for flight, wrapped themselves around the rim of the platform. Sadowski and his two accomplices stared upward, slack-jawed.

With a sudden, even ungainly, lurch, the phoenix plummeted from its nest, then spread its wings, the width of a school bus, and soared above their heads. The two soldiers behind Sadowski fell back a few steps, and as the bird came lower, heading, Carter suddenly realized, for the open doors behind them, one of the two — the one with a bell tattooed on his bare forearm — took a furious swing at it with the aluminum bat. The end of the bat caught the claws with a loud crack, and the bird, squawking in pain, wheeled in the air and beat a retreat toward the other end of the bestiary.

“I got it!” the tattooed man cried, his voice filled with as much terror as exultation. “I got the bastard!”

But the phoenix wasn’t done — it simply coasted in a great slow circle, then with one more beat of its red-feathered wings, a beat that sent a shivering wind through the whole facility, it shot back toward the open doors. Sadowski fired, missed, but the bird had its prehensile claws extended; there was a look of fire in its eyes and its vulture-like head was tucked into its body. It went straight for its attacker, and before he could even think to swing the bat again, the phoenix had snatched him up in its claws — one of the talons appeared to tear completely through the man’s body — and then, with its wings folded back like a missile, it flashed through the open doors and out of sight.

Dust from its exit filled the air. And all that was left of the tattooed man was an aluminum bat lying in the dirt.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Sadowski said in a tone of mechanical disbelief, and Greer said, “Didn’t I tell you you’d fucked up?”

The other man with a bat stood stunned, looking at the spot where his accomplice had been just seconds ago. Then, throwing his own bat on the ground, he turned without a word and ran out the doors… leaving Sadowski to fend for himself.

It was only then that Carter thought to look at the row of cages — and saw that the lever Rashid had pulled had opened all of their gates at once. The animals had not yet realized their freedom, but they would, soon. Greer must have reached the same conclusion because he suddenly made for the lever.

Sadowski shouted, “Hold it!” and fired again, and this time Greer collapsed, blood spurting from his right thigh. “God damn you, Sadowski! That was my good leg!”

“I told you not to move!”

But something now was moving — and it was at the farthest cage, the one that held the gorgon. Carter saw the tip of its enormous snout protrude from the open gate, as if it wasn’t sure if this was a trap or not. Then its head came out entirely, and swung, like a huge pendulum, from one direction to the other, taking in the whole arena.

Jakob stepped between al-Kalli and the emerging monster, drawing out his gun, but al-Kalli angrily batted it out of his hands. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Jakob looked at a total loss; he’d thought he was doing his job.

“It won’t harm me.”

It was then that Carter realized just how mad Mohammed al-Kalli really was.

The beast approached slowly, still swinging its ponderous head from side to side so that its bulbous eyes, situated far back on either side of its skull, could take in the whole landscape. It was like watching a tank rumble cautiously across land-mined terrain.

Jakob walked backward, never taking his eyes off the animal, and toward Sadowski, who was speechless and immobilized.

But al-Kalli actually took several steps forward. He opened his arms, the white sleeves billowing, and said something, not in English, to the beast.

Carter knew that the creature would be attuned to movement, that it would notice whatever was in motion, so he tried to make his own retreat as subtle as possible. When the animal’s snout was pointed directly at him, temporarily limiting its vision, he took a giant step back. And then, seconds later, another. He glanced backward, over his shoulder, but Jakob and Sadowski were already gone.

Greer, too, was hobbling toward the doors, using one of the aluminum bats as a makeshift cane and leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

The doors to the outside were still wide open, the waning sunlight casting a golden pool on the hard-packed earth just inside the entrance.

Al-Kalli spoke again, in Arabic it seemed, and Carter detected movement behind the gates where the basilisks and the griffin were kept. At any moment they, too, could stagger from their enormous pens and into the greater world beyond.

The gorgon, with its stumpy legs splayed out from its body like a gigantic toad, stopped a dozen yards or so from al-Kalli. As both a reptile and a mammal, a bizarre precursor of the dinosaurs and the large land mammals to come, it displayed a strange collection of traits: Its skin was green and scaly, like a crocodile’s, but it was also tufted here and there with clumps of grizzled black fur. Its eyes were large and lizardlike; it had no visible ears, just hollow indentations well behind the eyes; canine fangs, shaped like sabers, grew down from its upper jaw; and a long, thick, serpentlike tail dragged along the ground behind it.

Al-Kalli spoke again, in the soothing tones you might use to calm a nervous stallion, and he even held up one hand as if he were prepared to stroke the neck of the waiting beast.

Carter had never seen the creature so clearly as he saw it now; usually, it was lurking in the back of its pen, or hidden altogether in the enormous rocky grotto provided at its rear. It didn’t like to be fully exposed; it shied away from the light. But now, as he studied its stance — its terrifying head held high, its broad, clawed feet planted firmly on the ground, its jaws parted — he knew what was about to happen… and even if he’d found a way to warn al-Kalli, to tell him that he was exposing himself to the most ruthless predator the planet had ever known, the man would never have listened.

And there wasn’t time, anyway.

Carter saw the gorgon lower its body, gathering strength, and then, like an enormous jumping bullfrog, it leapt into the air and landed, claws extended and already tearing at him, on top of al-Kalli. He screamed once, but the gorgon quickly put a stop to that, dropping its jaws and snapping his head off with a swift, sideways ripping motion; the head rolled to one side, the mouth still open, the eyes still staring, as the gorgon shredded the flesh it still squatted over.

Carter, knowing there was no time to waste, made a run for it, racing toward the open doors. The gorgon would make quick work of al-Kalli, and be right back on the hunt again. He bolted outside, and nearly crashed into Del, who was just about to run in.

“What’s going on?” Del said as he grabbed Carter’s shoulders. “What’s in that place?”

“Later — I’ll tell you later,” Carter gasped. “We’ve got to get out of here!”

Del said, “I’ve got a guy who’s bleeding bad, behind the trees.”

It had to be Greer. Carter glanced over at the golf cart, now a pile of wreckage, tumbled onto its side — the work, undoubtedly, of the escaping phoenix — and no longer usable to transport the injured Greer.

Carter followed Del for a couple hundred yards to where Greer was propped up against a tree, tying a tourniquet, made from his own shirtsleeve, around the leg where Sadowski had shot him.

“I knew something like this would happen!” Greer snarled. “I fuckin’ knew it!”

“We’ve got to get out of here, now!” Carter said, grabbing Greer under one arm and hoisting him, groaning, to his feet. With Carter holding one arm and Del the other, they were able to drag him away from the bestiary and back toward the house. But by the time they reached the wooden footbridge, Greer was screaming in agony, begging for a brief rest.

“Okay,” Carter said urgently, “but we’ve got to do it under the bridge.”

Del looked puzzled, then followed Carter’s gaze. What he saw he would never have believed — there were creatures that had been extinct for eons roaming the green lawns and eucalyptus groves, armor-plated dinosaurs (some kind of ankylosaurids?) lumbering between the trees, rubbing their spiky backs against the bark of the trees. Not far from them a powerful, spotted catlike creature, with a glistening patch of black fur that bristled and swelled like wings above its shoulders, prowled the gravel pathway. As Del watched in amazement, the hyenalike beast (could it be a homotherium, he wondered, thought to have disappeared at the end of the Pleistocene, fourteen thousand years ago?) stealthily approached one of the peacocks preening in the late-day sun, then pounced on it with the fluid movement of a flying tiger. Purple feathers flew in a frenzied cloud.

Del looked at Carter, as if for confirmation of what was before his eyes, but Carter just nodded, and hauled Greer deeper beneath the footbridge. Greer cupped a hand in the stream and rubbed the cold water over his face to keep from going into shock. Under his breath, he muttered an unending stream of curses and epithets.

“We can get some help and come back for you here,” Carter said, but Greer shook his head and said, “I’ll never last — I’m losing too much blood.”

“You want to try to move again?” Carter said, though he doubted Greer would be able to make it far.

“I have to.” Greer propped himself up again with the aluminum bat, and after Del checked to see that the animals were still far enough off — the cat was still dining on the peacock — they skulked back toward the empty stables, then down the sloping hillside to the forecourt of the house… where Del’s truck and al-Kalli’s black Mercedes were still parked.

“Let’s get him in the truck,” Carter said, and as Del threw open the door on the passenger side, Greer tossed the bat away and said, “I can do it — I can do it.” He hauled himself up onto the seat, a thick ribbon of blood coursing down his leg.

“Take him to UCLA hospital — it’s the closest!” Carter said to Del, and Del said, “Where are you going?”

But Carter already had a plan, if he was lucky. He ran to the limousine, ducked his head inside, and yes — Jakob had left the keys in the ignition; why not, when the car was parked on a gated estate with its own security force? “I’m going home!” Carter shouted across to Del. With the wildfires spreading — and now a pack of primeval predators roaming free — he only wanted to get to Beth and Joey and make sure they were safe. Nothing else mattered to him now.