Relic

Coffey waited, tensed over the set, hearing the faint hiss and crackle of the static over the open frequency. He heard the clink of a weapon and a few whispers.

“Smell that?” Coffey leaned closer. They were almost there. He gripped the edge of the table.

“Yup,” a voice answered.

There was a rattling.

“Kill the light and stay in the shadows. Red Seven, cover the left side of that skeleton. Red Three, go right. Red Four, get your back to the wall, cover the far sector.

There was a long silence. Coffey could hear heavy breathing and faint footfalls.

[407] He heard a sudden explosive whisper. “Red Four, look, there’s a body here.”

Coffey felt his stomach tighten.

“No head,” he heard. “Nice.”

“Here’s another one,” whispered a voice. “See it? Lying in that group of dinosaurs.”

More clicking and rattling of weapons, more breathing.

“Red Seven, cover our path of retreat. There’s no other way out.”

“It may still be here,” someone whispered.

“That’s far enough, Red Four.”

Coffey’s knuckles whitened. Why the fuck didn’t they get it over with? These guys were a bunch of old women.

More rattling of metal.

“Something’s moving! Over there!” The voice was so loud Coffey jumped, and then a burst of automatic weapons fire dissolved immediately into static as the frequency overloaded.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Coffey began saying, over and over. Then for an instant he could hear screaming, and then more static; the even cadence of machine-gun fire; then, silence. The tinkling sound of something—what? Shattered dinosaur bones dropping and rolling on the marble floor?

Coffey felt a flood of relief. Whatever it was, it was dead. Nothing could have survived the shitload of firepower just unloaded. The nightmare was finally over. He eased himself down in a chair.

“Red Four! Hoskins! Oh shit!” the voice of the Commander screamed over the frequency. The voice was suddenly buried by the staccato of gunfire, then more static. Or was it a scream?

Coffey surged to his feet and turned to an agent standing behind him. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He read his own terror in the agent’s eyes.

[408] “Red One!” he yelled into the mike. “Red One! Do you read?”

All he could hear was static.

“Talk to me, Commander! Do you read? Anyone!”

He switched frequencies wildly to the team in the Hall of the Heavens.

“Sir, we’re removing the last of the bodies now,” came the voice of a medic. “The rear detail of the SWAT team just evacuated Doctor Cuthbert to the roof. We just heard firing from upstairs. Are we going to need more evacuation—?”

“Get the hell out!” Coffey screamed. “Get your asses out! Get the fuck out and pull up the ladder!”

“Sir, what about the rest of the SWAT team? We can’t leave those men—”

“They’re dead! Understand? That’s an order!”

He dropped the radio and leaned back, gazing vaguely out the window. A morgue truck slowly moved up toward the massive bulk of the Museum.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. “Sir, Agent Pendergast is requesting to speak with you.”

Coffey slowly shook his head. “No. I don’t want to talk to that fuck, you got that?”

“Sir, he—”

“Don’t mention his name to me again.”

Another agent opened the rear door and came inside, his suit sodden. “Sir, the dead are coming out now.”

“Who? Who are you talking about?”

“The people from the Hall of the Heavens. There were seventeen dead, no survivors.”

“Cuthbert? The guy you took out of the lab? Is he out?”

“They’ve just lowered him to the street.”

“I want to talk to him.”

Coffey stepped outside and ran down past the ambulance circle, his mind numb. How could a SWAT team buy it, just like that?

[409] Outside, two medics with a stretcher approached. “Are you Cuthbert?” Coffey asked the still form.

The man looked around with unfocused eyes.