Island 731

expecting it.”

It had taken them just two minutes to prepare the first part of the plan, though it had nearly cost Blok his life. He’d escaped with a three-inch gash on his thigh, which he was now nursing as he waited for the signal that would announce the beginning of the plan’s second stage.

Bray had gone off to take care of his part of the scheme. Hawkins wasn’t sure if it would work, or even if it was needed, but Bray insisted on maximizing the confusion. That made sense to Hawkins, but given the conflagration of opposing forces they planned on bringing together, he wasn’t sure anyone would survive, let alone escape.

But it was their best chance. Their only chance. And it fit GoodTracks’s “more aggressive predator” theory. Actually, what Bray had planned was closer to “most aggressive predator ever,” which was something only the human race could truly pull off, because it involved the recruitment of other species.

Of course, Bennett had his army, too. Creatures conditioned to do his bidding populated the entire island. Including Kam’s mother, who might be able to handle anything thrown her way outside of a M1A1 Abrams tank.

Hawkins’s thoughts returned to his part of the plan when he saw the top of the curved, concrete gallery building emerge from behind the tree line. The gray stone path curved through a small stretch of jungle before opening up to the clearing at the front of the building—the clearing where Bennett—and Joliet—waited. Hawkins had the machete sheathed at his waist, along with his broken knife blade and the captive bolt stunner in his right hand, but he longed for a gun. He wasn’t a bad shot. From twenty feet away, he could probably shoot Bennett without fear of striking Joliet. He suspected he could have found one inside the medical complex, but time was short.

As he rounded the corner with six minutes remaining, the time felt like an eternity. He made no effort to mask his approach. In fact, he did the opposite, feigning a leg injury and scraping his feet through the rough stone. When he emerged from the jungle and faced the gallery, Bennett stood waiting for him with a smile on his face.

Joliet knelt at his feet.

The shot would have been so easy, Hawkins thought, looking at Bennett’s exposed torso and head.

Hawkins did his best to look surprised. “Joliet!” He hobbled forward, moving with a purpose.

“Mark!” Joliet said, sounding both relieved and concerned.

Bennett gripped her hair and pressed the gun against her skull. “Quiet.”

Hawkins’s suspicions were confirmed. There was a trap, and Joliet knew what it was, but if she spoke, he’d kill her and the trap would be sprung anyway. “Let her go.”

“Pfft!” Bennett laughed. “Where would she go?”

Hawkins knew it was a silly request. Bennett wouldn’t let her go, and if he did, she’d be in no less danger. But Hawkins wasn’t looking for a fight, either. He just needed to kill five more minutes.

“That’s close enough,” Bennett said when Hawkins got within twenty feet.

Hawkins shuffled to a stop, looking exhausted and beaten, which wasn’t really a stretch. He considering going for his knife and whipping it at Bennett. With the handle broken off, just about any part of the blade would do the trick. But getting the handleless blade out of the sheath and throwing it before Bennett pulled the trigger wouldn’t be possible. So he just stood and waited, letting the seconds pass by.

Bennett’s smile faded. He apparently expected a little more banter from Hawkins. “The others are dead?” he finally asked.

Hawkins grimaced.

“Blok stayed in his cell.”

“Of course,” Bennett said. “He would, wouldn’t he? I never liked the man. Spent more time in the fantasy worlds conjured by other people’s minds.”

“You should try it,” Hawkins said. “Might not be such an asshole.”

Bennett grinned. “Jones no doubt died with his daughter.”

Hawkins’s earnest scowl confirmed it.

“And Bray? I’m surprised you left him on his own. Did he become an incubator, too?”

“It was Jim,” Hawkins said.

“How is the last surviving Tweedle?” Bennett asked, growing more excited with every revelation.

“Out of his misery,” Hawkins said.

Bennett’s mouth opened to form an amused O shape. “You didn’t!”

Hawkins held up the bolt stunner, revealing the blood splashed on its tip. He loathed the idea of entertaining Bennett with such details, but the man was engaged. He’d even let go of Joliet’s hair, which was good because when the shit hit the fan, she would need to run like hell. He just wished he could warn her about it.

“Why are you doing this, Bennett?” Hawkins asked. Kam had told him a lot, but he couldn’t reveal what he’d already learned. Bennett would know he’d seen the security feeds and that he had come out here to face him on purpose.

With a casual shrug, Bennett said, “It’s fun.”

Hawkins heard a hint of pain in his voice.

“Bullshit,” Hawkins said.

Bennett’s smile faded. “You disagree?”

Hawkins didn’t need to answer. The fire burning in his eyes was answer enough.

Joliet, on the other hand, couldn’t not reply. “Murdering and mutilating people is fun? You’re a sick fu—”

“Joliet,” Hawkins chided. He wanted to engage Bennett, not antagonize him.

Bennett glared at the back of Joliet’s head for a moment, then looked back at Hawkins. “It’s not all about the killing, you know.”

“Then what’s with the cameras around the island? I’ve seen them everywhere.”

“You have good eyes,” Bennett said.

Hawkins worried he’d said too much, but some of the cameras weren’t hidden very well. “Once I saw the camera mounted on top of the old lab, I knew what to look for.”

“Ahh, yes,” Bennett said. “Didn’t hide those very well, did I?”

“If you’re watching, how is this island any different than an ancient Roman coliseum?”

“Because I’m not watching for entertainment,” Bennett said. “Well, fine, maybe sometimes. But when physiology and biology began to bore me, I took an interest in sociology. At first I just watched people, observing the subtle nuances of body language and tone of voice. It’s how I know you lied about Bray. He’s not dead.”

Hawkins tried not to react. He’d guessed right about Bray, but didn’t mention Blok.

“You can try to hide what you’re thinking, but it’s nearly impossible.” Bennett looked Hawkins over. “For example. Your limp is fake. Which means you knew I was here. And here’s where it gets fun. You could have made a run for it. Maybe get back to the Magellan and escape. It’s what most people would do. But you came here”—he tapped the gun against Joliet’s head—“for her. Since arriving, you’ve looked at her more than me, despite me having a gun. You came knowing I was waiting for you. And prepared for you. Which means, and correct me if I’m wrong, that you’re in love with Joliet.”

Hawkins said nothing. Apparently, he didn’t need to.

“And given Joliet’s lack of surprise, not to mention how she wept earlier when I told her you were dead—that was a lie, by the way—I’d say the feeling was mutual. Of course, you both already knew that. But you’re both cowards, which is also interesting because when it comes to physical danger, you’re both somewhat reckless. And that brings us back to the here and now, with Hawkins risking not just his life, but also Bray’s in an attempt to save the damsel in distress. Where is Bray? Hiding in the bushes? Circling around the gallery for an ambush?”

Hawkins noted Bennett’s total lack of concern regarding both scenarios.

“How’d I do?” Bennett asked. “Pretty accurate, right?”

Hawkins quickly scanned the area, looking for Bennett’s trap. He saw nothing but the dull, gray concrete of the gallery wall, its soot-rimmed entryway, and jungle all around. Nothing. But his sensitive ears picked up the distant staccato chop of approaching helicopters. He spoke loudly, hoping to drown out the sound until it was too