Runaway Heart

FORTY-NINE

It was eight at night and the temperature in the desert near Indio was dropping faster than Jack's meager stock portfolio.

He and Susan were kneeling in a sand culvert with Chief Ibanazi and three other members of the Ten-Eyck tribe. A war party.

Everyone was dressed in jeans and tennies, except for Izzy, who had added a chic leather vest from Brioni and a headband from Costume National. He looked like a painting of Cochise as they knelt in the moonlight. Jack had his trusty hunting knife in a leather scabbard on his belt, determined to put it between his teeth at some point during the raid. They were all packing handguns, nine millimeters mostly. But Russell's cousin, Carlos Ibanazi, had a scoped 30.06.

"It's down here about another quarter mile," Izzy informed them in a stage whisper worthy of any of the great Warner Bros. Indians.

"Okay," Jack nodded. "Susan, you're rear guard. You have the cell phone. If we need help you know what to do."

"I'm through being rear guard. You be rear guard."

"You can't go with us," he argued. "Too dangerous."

"Then, I hope you brought your handcuffs," she shot back. Her eyes were flashing angrily and he could see there would be no stopping her. "Either that, or we can do what I suggested before-call the cops and let them sneak in here," she added.

"No cops," he said.

"I still don't see why not," Susan argued.

"Because as an ex-cop I can tell you we're shitty at covert ops. We always start by announcing stuff over bullhorns. We need to catch one of these chimera things out in the open before we add all the police confusion."

It was good logic, but she still seemed worried about their safety; that was okay, because Jack was worried about their safety, too.

"Okay, show time. Let's do it," Jack said, borrowing that tired line from just about every corny action film he'd ever seen.

They stood to the side and let Russell Ibanazi take the point.

Izzy headed down the culvert, his three-hundred-dollar tennies making squeaking sounds in the fine sand.

Jack Wirta, renegade commando and complete medical mess, took the second position. Behind Jack was Carlos, who on the ride out from L.A. never stopped complaining about the assholes who stole his Rolls. As he gripped his long scoped rifle he asked Jack over and over if, as an ex-cop, he knew how to catch car thieves.

"Gee, Carlos," Jack had finally said, trying to calm him down, "that's a tough one. But, since you got it back, if it was me, I'd just forget about it."

"Can't forget about it," Carlos said. "Nobody steals my car. Gonna get the fuckers." He wouldn't shut up about it. It was making Jack wish he'd never stolen the damned thing.

Behind Carlos Ibanazi was Bobby Horsekiller, who looked like he really could kill horses: six feet of gristle and bone stacked under mean eyes and a cruel mouth. Jack was glad he hadn't stolen Mr. Horsekiller's Rolls.

Susan was behind Horsekiller, and bringing up the rear was somebody named Digby. Jack hadn't caught the last name, but he sure didn't look like a Digby. He looked like an Indian version of Andre the Giant, all three hundred fifty-plus pounds of him. His tennis shoes looked like tuna boats. The guy was immense.

So, off they went Indian file… apparently no lack of political correctness there either, because that's what Izzy called it.

When they finally reached a large, metal drainage pipe Izzy stopped. Jack pumped his fist up and down, like John Wayne in The Green Berets, to announce that the column was coming to a halt. It was a cool-looking signal, and when you did it, everybody was supposed to put on the brakes. Trouble was, Carlos wasn't watching and climbed right up Jack's already tortured back. Then they all ran into each other. In a remarkable demonstration of human kinetic energy the entire column went down.

"Shhh," Russell said as he regained his balance and stood. "Okay, this drainage pipe goes under the perimeter fence. When I was a kid, this was my way off the reservation to score girls after my folks were asleep. On the other side is an open field, and we'll have to stay very low. In this full moon we can be seen over a long distance in the desert, unless we get on our bellies." He looked at Jack and the others, who all nodded.

"Okay, show time. Let's do it," Izzy said, sounding even sillier than Jack had.

They crouched down and duck-walked through the four-foot-high metal drainage pipe that was full of rust and unimaginable stuff that slithered away in the dark. Jack could hear Digby grunting somewhere back there as he lumbered along.

Soon they emerged on the other side and came up behind Russell who had proned out on the sand. Everybody stretched out next to him.

Jack had a pair of old Bushnell binoculars around his neck, but he was lying on them and they were now punching a hole in his already injured chest. After he dug them out he could feel the hunting knife poking him as well. Maybe now would be a good time to slip it neatly between his teeth. White Eyes prepares for battle…

Instead he focused the binoculars and began scanning the open terrain between where they were and the reservation beyond. Some pretty good tires out there-looked like they still had lots of tread on them. He panned left and brought the old stables into view.

"We got some choices to make here," Izzy was saying. "Those are the stables off to the left about a quarter mile… you can just see them in the moonlight. That's where the open pit was dug."

Jack kept his Bushnells on the stables and sharpened the focus. They looked deserted.

"Or, like I said in war council, we could try the old tribal long house and sweat lodge over there couple a hundred yards to the north toward the mountains," Izzy whispered.

The war council had taken place two hours earlier at a Denny's restaurant off the Indio Highway. Jack had a cheeseburger with fries, Susan had the California salad, Russell, Carlos, and Bobby all ordered tuna melts. Jack thought it was unusual food for a war council. Indians preparing for battle should fast and ask the Great Spirit for courage. Digby made it worse by ordering everything else on the Denny's menu.

Izzy had showed Jack a map of the reservation he'd drawn and pointed out where the two pits that the government dug were located. "Over by the old stables and near the sweat lodge," Izzy said. It was the first time Jack had heard there were two pits.

Now, hours later, they were on their stomachs while Jack looked across the desert at the stables through his Bushnells, trying to make a decision: stables or sweat lodge?

"Let's stick with the stables," Jack finally said, partly because he always tried to stay out of buildings where naked men sat in circles sweating, and partly because it was two hundred yards closer, and he still remembered the elbow crawls he'd been forced to do at the Police Academy.

So they were off crawling across the desert on their stomachs. Halfway there Izzy stopped to catch his breath. "See anything?" Izzy said.

Jack's back was killing him so he dug into his pocket for his last two Percocets. He slipped the pills into his mouth, then brought the binoculars up and scanned the stables.

Jack shook his head. "Seems deserted."

Izzy was looking at the stables with a puzzled frown. "Y'know, I thought that stable was in the wrong place this afternoon when we were out here. It used to be about forty yards to the east, I'm almost sure."

"How?" Jack said, thinking he was sounding more and more like a real Indian.

"This was my old trail. I used it all the time when I was a kid. I'm sure the stables used to be further east. Don't you remember, Carlos? They were over by that big Joshua tree."

"I never went to the stables much," Carlos answered. "I had my brother's Jeep after he went into the Marines."

"Why move the stables?" Digby asked. It was his first sentence since he'd said "Pass the ketchup" two hours ago.

"I don't know," Izzy said. "But I've taken this route a hundred times and I'm telling you they moved 'em."

"Maybe to dig the pit… then they put the stables back for camouflage, but not in the same exact spot," Susan volunteered.

Just then the stable doors opened and five low shapes scampered out of the building followed by a man in cammies who turned and closed the door, locking up behind him.

Jack focussed the lenses on the five shapes. They were slightly smaller than an average man-maybe five-feet-four or -five and they kept low. They were dressed in metal that reflected the moonlight. Through the binoculars they looked like they had furry bodies and human faces.

Chimeras.

They were carrying long, two-handled weapons that resembled the Star Wars ordnance the commandos had used at Zimmy's wife's apartment and onboard The Other Woman.

"Damn," Jack said aloud as the animals fanned out and started looking around in the moonlight. Their faces through the lens, even at this distance, looked amazingly human.

Izzy snatched the binoculars away and trained them on the distant shapes. "What the fuck are those things?"

"You don't wanna know," Jack said.

Susan took the binoculars and looked. "It's them," she said. "Chimeras!"

The hybrid soldiers turned, then headed in five separate directions across the desert, staying low in the natural crevices until Jack couldn't keep them all in the wide-angle lenses. He was panning frantically back and forth, but they had scampered away. They looked like they were fanning out and getting ready to attack.

"I hate this," Jack was saying. "I'm not sure what weapons they're packing, but they look like those rayguns."

"Rayguns?" Izzy turned and was looking at them, his Costume National headband resting slightly askew over an expression of grave concern.

"If these chimeras are the troops that I think they are, and they're armed with particle-beam weapons, we're fucked. Gimme the cell phone," Jack ordered. "Time to call in the badges and bullhorns."

Susan dug in her pocket and handed over her phone. Jack had memorized the number of the Indio Fire Department. He dialed. Long experience had told him that firefighters had the best response time and always brought the cops with them anyway. He pressed the send button.

"Indio Fire Department," a female voice said.

"This is Bob Bailey. I'm driving by the Ten-Eyck reservation and there's a huge brush fire blazing out here!"

"Where are you exactly, sir?"

"I'm at the old reservation road. This desert is doing a major flambé. Better hurry." Then he hung up. "Let's move. Forget staying down. I don't know how they did it, but I think they've already seen us," he said, deciding if they changed positions they might just avoid a pincer movement.

They took off running across the desert, staying behind Jack, who had now taken the lead and was running as fast as he could despite his impressive array of injuries. Izzy was right behind Jack. Susan was faster than Horsekiller, who lumbered. Carlos was keeping pace, but Digby was falling way back, grunting and woofing along behind them.

The first two chimeras suddenly appeared off to the right. One of them stopped and pointed a weapon, then fired. The gun made a buzzing sound and a red light arced at them.

"Down!" Jack shouted and dove to the right. The laser beam hit a granite boulder to his left. It instantly exploded.

"Holy shit!" Izzy shrieked in panic, sounding nothing like a Warner Bros. Indian now.

Susan was running in a zigzag until she caught up to Jack, who rolled onto his stomach with his Beretta out and chambered. She threw herself down next to him just as he fired at one of the chimeras. The animal was moving fast across the desert, running toward them on all fours, its laser weapon slung over its back. Jack's wild shot missed badly. The bullet whined away in the dark, but the animal veered off.

"On the right!" Horsekiller yelled. Jack spun in time to see two other chimeras loping across the high ground. They stopped, sighted their laser weapons down on the war party, then fired as Carlos's 30.06 barked simultaneously. The laser guns sent arcs of red light streaking across the desert. The first hit Horsekiller, frying him on the spot, setting his whole body on fire. He fell screaming and smoking onto the sand next to Susan and died before he landed. The second laser shot went wide, cutting a fiery line into the brush.

As Susan looked up she saw that Carlos's shot had hit one of the chimeras. He was squealing in pain and rolling backwards on the sand. Seconds later, for no apparent reason the wounded chimera exploded and burned in a raging fire.

Adrenalized with fear, the war party was off and running, leaving Horsekiller and the lone dead chimera smoldering in the sand.

Izzy was now out front. "This way!" he screamed- panic taking over.

Susan didn't know where Izzy was taking them, but she ran for all she was worth. Jack ran beside her. She turned and saw that Digby was way too far behind. As she looked back, she saw a fast-closing chimera jump on Digby from behind. The big Indian and the hybrid beast rolled in the desert sand locked in a deadly struggle. The monstrously huge Digby screamed as his arm was yanked out of its socket. It wasn't completely ripped loose, but hung uselessly by his side. Susan saw that Jack had spun and was running back to help Digby, who seemed to be no match for the much smaller chimera. Although the hybrid warrior was only a third of Digby's body mass, the animal was easily winning the fight. In a last-ditch effort Digby finally slugged the beast with his good arm, knocking the chimera back slightly.

Jack was now only five feet away. He steadied his Beretta in both hands and squeezed off a round. The weapon roared. The chimera was hit in the chest and blown backwards as Jack's Beretta tore a deadly hole in the animal; but despite the mortal wound the chimera wasn't finished. It regained its footing, then launched itself again at Digby, grabbing the big man's head in both of its human-like hands. Digby had no strength to resist. His useless left arm hung limply at his side. Jack pulled the trigger again, but this time the Beretta jammed, so he yanked his hunting knife out and charged at the chimera in a desperate attempt to save Digby from a horrible beheading. He dove at the two of them, sinking the knife into the chimera's back. It let out a tortured yell, sounding more animal than human. Then it turned in his grasp and Jack found himself staring into its human face and pain-filled eyes. While Susan watched helplessly, Jack and the beast rolled in the sand. The animal was quickly losing strength, whimpering. It let go of Jack and flopped onto its back. Jack struggled to his feet and looked down. There was agony and intelligence in its face as it stared back at him. Then the chimera cocked its head, whined once, closed its gray eyes, and died.

As Jack staggered backward the animal exploded with such a violent force that it almost blew his head off.

It had never really occurred to Captain Silver that any of his chimeras would die in battle. He had loved them and fed them, cared for them, and fought for their well-being. Now as he watched two of them first get hit and then explode, he realized that Valdez was destroying them from the command room. He was suddenly struck by parental rage.

"No!" he shouted impotently. It was so different during war games when they had occasionally been hit by the rubber bullets fired by DARPA commandos. They had squealed in pain but none had died. Somehow Dave Silver had come to believe in their invincibility. Now two more were gone, and without any thought he gave the order to return.

The three remaining chimeras fell back and he opened the barn door for them. They raced across the sandy terrain on all fours, not in retreat, but in response to his command. Silver knew they would fight to the last animal if ordered, but he was not prepared to lose any more. He had made a human mistake… Silver had begun to value them as individuals instead of military assets.

When the survivors were all inside the stables he saw that Gree, the lead chimera, was still alive and looking up at him. Dave Silver ordered them to take up positions at the front windows. "Fire at will," he said, and they began unloading the particle-beam weapons at moving shapes out in the desert.

Suddenly the hydraulic hatch opened, rising from the hay-strewn floor of the barn. Vincent Valdez emerged from the stairs and stepped into the darkened stables. "What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded.

"We were losing troops. I gave the order to pull back," Silver said.

"These aren't troops, you asshole. They're things… animals!" he raged. "Get them back out there! Destroy those people!"

"No, sir," Captain Silver said. "I can't… I won't."

Valdez's eyes burned with rage. He pointed his revolver at Captain Silver and pulled the hammer back. Dave Silver had seen this look in battle before. It was homicidal rage and he knew he was about to die.

"Gree," Captain Silver commanded. "Attack."

The chimera sprang across the floor just as Valdez fired. The bullet hit Silver in the chest, sending him backwards to the ground. A split second later Gree hit Valdez, and in an instant had ripped his arm from his body and thrown it across the room.

Valdez screamed as he stared down at his shoulder and the bloody hole where seconds before his arm had been. Arterial blood spurted out of him as he staggered across the stables lit from below by the harsh light shining from the hydraulic staircase. Then he fell backwards and tumbled down the stairs into the command center.

"Gree. No more," Captain Silver said, his hand over the bullet wound in his chest. He could feel his heart still beating, but he could also feel blood leaking inside him. His lungs were filling and he started to cough. Foamy red saliva came out of his mouth and dribbled down his chin.

The three chimeras stood watching him with blank expressions, waiting patiently for their next command.

"Go. Hide inside the lab," Captain Silver finally managed to whisper. They quickly turned and ran below without ever bothering to look back at him.

Dave Silver crawled to the Navaho blanket hanging on the wall and pulled himself onto his knees. He was dizzy and could barely see. He knew his life was pumping out with each heartbeat. He was drowning from the inside, drowning in his own blood. He could feel his breath become shorter as his lungs filled. He reached out and managed to push the button. As he fell forward the last sound he heard was the hydraulic door in the floor humming closed.