Toys

Everything was coalescing now. Or perhaps coming apart at the seams-it was impossible for me to tell. Lucy had given me a rendezvous spot in the desolate, wooded outlands to the north. As I got close, I could see that the dark glen below was gloomy and silent. So much so that I became afraid I’d made a mistake in navigation.

But the coordinates checked out, so I landed the car cautiously in the thick cover of a coppice of evergreen and spruce trees.

The instant I stepped out of the vehicle, it was like someone had flipped a switch. The forest started moving. Shadowy shapes suddenly appeared from behind tree trunks, dropped down from branches, rose up out of the brush.

Humans! I realized with a start.

They came striding toward me with assault rifles in their hands-except for a few who held short bows and had quivers of arrows slung over their shoulders. One of them bared his teeth in a wide, fierce grin.

“Hays Baker!” shouted the man.

“Tazh Khan!” I roared back. “You’re here to fight. So am I!”

As we clasped forearms, he sniffed the air and his face turned serious and concerned.

“Blood of you,” he declared. “You hurt?”

“It’s nothing. Hand-to-hand combat. I’ve been hurt a lot worse. By you, matter of fact.”

Tazh Khan kept sniffing, then jerked his head toward Lizbeth’s prison cell, aka the family refrigerator, where she remained concealed.

“Other blood there.”

“She’s OK. For the moment. I’m keeping her on ice, so to speak. It’s my wife. Where’s Lucy?”

“Come.” He and some of his men took off in a loping run. By now I’d realized that they weren’t the only soldiers here. The forest was filled with moving shadows-an army of tens of thousands, men and women both, stretching as far as I could see. They must have been converging for days, landing at remote locations and traveling here covertly. Suddenly, I felt like I was in one of the World Wars that the humans once fought-I, II, or III, take your pick.

My pulse quickened with both anxiety and, strangely, pride. Humankind might not have much of a chance against whatever outrage the Elites had planned, but their courage was inspiring. It really was.

I hoisted the refrigeration unit up onto my shoulder and followed Tazh. Almost immediately, Lizbeth started to cry out, but it made no difference to me. I was committed to this betrayal.

I felt like I was carrying the weight of the world-and in all probability, that’s what I was doing.

Chapter 102

I was escorted to the human army’s fleet of vehicles-armored cars and a few tanks, which were camouflaged in the brush. A cluster of jeeps and trucks had been pulled together to form a command post.

What a sight when I stepped inside! The station was crowded with the human leaders of the world-faces of those whom I’d last seen dying under ruthless Elite gunfire in France, not knowing that they were clones and all part of a master plan to fight back, to survive somehow.

And survive not just here-all over North America, Europe, Asia.

The leaders went silent for a second-then they burst into excited conversations as they realized who I was and what I was bringing to them: Lizbeth.

The real Chantal Dugare came hurrying toward me, looking even more stunning and imposing than her double had. “Hezz! How nice to really meet you!”

“How nice to see you alive,” I said.

“Yes, I much prefer it that way too. You are very handsome, Hezz.”

The crowd quieted and moved aside as she led me to the front of the compound, which had been set up like an operating-room theater. I suspected that I already knew why.

Lucy was waiting there, busily arranging surgical equipment on a table. She didn’t burst out with any thrilled “Oh, Hays, you did it”-just flashed me a quiet smile. She’d obviously never doubted that I would come, which was high praise coming from her.

“Set it over there. I mean-set her over there!”

She pointed at the operating table. Then Lucy started putting on a surgical gown.

“You’re going to do this operation yourself?” I said, astonished. I’d assumed that she was prepping for a physician who had yet to arrive.

“Of course I’m going to do the operation. Who else would do it?”

“Where’d you learn… to be a doctor?”

“From your parents-where do you think?” she said impatiently. “I didn’t spend all those years just fixing roofs and gutters on the cabin. I’ve worked with them in the lab since I was a little girl. They taught me everything they knew. I happen to be a great surgeon. Lucky for you, Lizbeth.”

Lizbeth was ready to kill, but, hoo boy, was this going to frost her.

I set the refrigeration unit down and opened the door so she could see exactly where she was, and maybe get an idea about what was going to happen next.

“Lizbeth Baker,” said Lucy with a modest bow. “Welcome to my operating table.”

Chapter 103

Lizbeth came springing up like a viper ready to strike. But the first thing she saw was Tazh Khan-knife in hand, and with a look on his face that said he was eager for an Elite-skin belt.

Next, my darling wife’s gaze darted around to the assembled leaders, who were glaring at her like a jury at the trial of a mass murderess.

“Don’t even think about touching me,” she snarled at Lucy.

Lucy didn’t even bother to answer. She just rolled her eyes and picked up a scalpel.

“We are not here to appeal to your conscience, madame-you obviously have none,” Chantal declared.

I had never seen Lizbeth frightened before, or even nonplussed, but she definitely was now. She must have thought that she was dead and facing the final judgment-from humans.

But she caught on fast that whatever this was, it involved a fully equipped operating room. She tried to cover her lapse into fear with haughtiness.

“So you didn’t really blow yourself up?” she said to Lucy with acid sarcasm. “What a pity.”

“But she really did blow Jax Moore up, Lizbeth,” I said. “She killed Owen McGill too. Two for two. So far.”

That set Lizbeth back again-neither of those two were riding to her rescue. She took another look at the medical equipment-and Lucy’s surgical gown.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to play doctor now,” Lizbeth snapped.

“I just need to borrow something of yours,” Lucy said calmly. Meantime, she was unhooking an anesthesia mask from an overhead rack.

“Borrow? What are you talking about? What of mine could you possibly want? We’re hardly the same shoe size.”

“Your brain, sweetie. That’s what I need to examine. Relax, you won’t feel too much. Oh-maybe you will.”

Lizbeth exploded in a fury, scratching and biting like a wildcat. But several soldiers slammed her down and held her immobile.

“Don’t you dare touch me, bitch!” she panted. Lucy ignored the command and brought the anesthesia mask down over Lizbeth’s face.

“There, there-I’ll patch you back up when I’m done. If I have time.”

A few seconds later, Lizbeth went completely limp on the operating table. For once in her life, she actually