SIXTY-FIVE

THE CHASE TURNED into a surreal, slow-moving event. The river had widened and the flow had dwindled to the speed of a casual Sunday drive. The Neanderthal women ambled along the riverside cliff casually, now only ten feet above the water, as they gave chase to what Rook now referred to as their “Great White Hope,” aka himself.

The storm had ebbed some in the past ten minutes, but flashes of lightning still lit up the sky, shaking the world around them and filling the air with the scent of ozone.

Since Weston’s death there hadn’t been any sign of the hybrids.

The group had taken to lying flat on their backs, going with the flow and trying to rest before they made their move. And that moment seemed to grow closer every second as water poured into the river from hundreds of fast-moving rivulets, each contributing to the rising water level. They’d passed under several fallen trees that the Neanderthals most likely used to cross the river. Each time they’d passed under, the old mothers tried plucking them from the water. But their short arms couldn’t reach. With the water level rising, however, they would soon be able to pluck the team out of the water like pickles from a jar.

King estimated they’d traveled at least two miles from the mountain and the ancient hidden city of Meru. Thunder rumbled again, but sounded different somehow. Distant, yet continuous, and somehow odd. Then it occurred to King that the thunder hadn’t been preceded by a flash of lightning.

Queen said aloud what he was thinking. “That’s not thunder.”

The group leaned up and began to tread water again, looking up-river. They couldn’t feel it in the water, but they could see it. A wave of energy flew through the ground, shaking trees and loosening soil from the banks of the river where it fell in clumps. Lighting filled the sky above, shifting through the clouds, illuminating the world below. For an instant, Mount Meru exploded into view. It looked as though a meteor had struck. The mountain rose up on the sides to half its previous height. It had collapsed. Meru, home of the gods, the last refuge of the Neanderthal species, had been buried.

At first Sara felt sad that such a historic and incredible place had been lost, but then she remembered what it felt like there. Beyond her senses being blinded, the place struck her as evil. The curses against humanity. The hate that had gone into laying those stones was still palpable. Meru was an evil place and Weston’s time there had made him indifferent to the fate of the human race. The world was better off never knowing about it.

King saw the situation differently. Two things were about to happen. First, the collapse of the mountain would send a river-fueled tidal wave in their direction. Second, if the debris carried forward by the wall of water didn’t kill them, the river, now blocked by the fallen mountain, would run dry, allowing the old mothers easy access to them.

Shifting his view toward shore, King saw their salvation ahead. A portion of the riverside cliff had been knocked down and a long beach had been formed on the opposite shore of the river from the Neanderthal women. He judged the distance traveled, the direction of the shoreline, and the objects—a rotting reed basket, a tattered T-shirt, and a half-submerged canoe—littering the shoreline.

Anh Dung. It had to be.

“There!” King shouted, pointing toward the shore.

As the six Chess Team members swam for the shore, the old mothers, who could clearly not swim, hooted and hollered.

“Rook!” Red shouted. “You father! Rook!”

Then they were off and running down the opposite shoreline, no doubt headed for another fallen tree. They’d be on top of them in no time. The group crawled onto the shore just as a surge of water caught their feet.

Rook looked back. “Move, move, move!”

As Bishop scooped up Knight and ran, the others ignored their wobbly legs and ran up the track of sand, entering the jungle just as a wall of water pounded down the river, eating up the shoreline as it moved. A loud swishing filled the forest. The raging waters had moved outside the confines of the river. Trees cracked and leaves swished as the river flowed through the jungle.

They ran, unable to see the oncoming wall of water.

But Sara could feel it. Huge and fast, slowed only by the trunks of hundreds of trees, yet moving steadily forward.

“Faster!” she urged them, feeling the water gaining on them, pushing through the darkness. But there was something else moving with the trees . . . in the trees. The hybrids. Over their initial shock, they had rejoined the chase. Out for vengeance.

As Sara felt the cool tickle of the first splash of water at her feet, she felt the earth beneath her rise up. She stumbled up the incline, clawing her way up through the sopping-wet earth and loose leaves. Clear of the water, she fell flat on her stomach and took several deep breaths.

Then King’s hand took hers from above. “Not yet,” he said, yanking her back to her feet.

They ran again, and then, as suddenly as the river had carried them from the mountain, they cleared the jungle and entered a clearing. Lightning lit the scene—a field full of tall grass. A series of bright orange flags placed by Bishop only days ago, each marking the position of a land mine, led into the reeds. The field was full of them.

“Follow the markers,” King said, “but do not step anywhere near them.”

They launched into the grass, leaving the cover of jungle and exposing themselves to the whipping rain, wind, and the hybrids moving through the trees.

Loud whoops filled the air behind them. The hybrids were coming.

A roar, followed by a loud “Rook!” sounded from their right. Red and the old mothers had crossed the river before the flood as well. The chess board was set and the pieces were moving.

The tall, thick grass slapped against Sara’s face as she ran, but was a mere distraction to the pain in her back from when she had been crushed against the underwater cave ceiling. Her torn shirt revealed several gouges pouring warm blood down her back. Trying to ignore the pain she focused on the one thing lighting her path—Rook’s bare white back.

She saw Rook’s body leap up suddenly. When he came back down, an orange flag came into view between them. Too close to react quickly, Sara stumbled, jumped, and landed in a heap. She looked up and saw King leap over the small mound she’d nearly fallen on top of. He pulled her up and pushed her forward, just as the grass at the back edge of the field burst with the sound of running bodies.

Following Rook and Queen’s plowed path, King, Sara, and Bishop holding Knight moved quickly through the field, though there was no doubt that the hybrids and old mothers were moving even faster. Rook’s white form came into view again as Sara gained on him.

Snarls emerged from the grass around them. The enemy closed in. Hybrid or fully Neanderthal, it was impossible to tell. Until a gentle click to their right signified the triggering of a buried land mine.

King dove on Sara as the mine exploded. A legless hybrid screamed as it was launched overhead. The single explosion seemed to set off a chain reaction. All over the field, as hybrids charged forward without sense of the danger, mines burst, hybrids screamed, and limbs tore away from bodies.

King was up and running again with Sara when the grass behind him collapsed. Red burst out at his heels. Hair raised, teeth bared. She was a creature out of mankind’s past and King wasn’t sure even a mine could stop her.

“King!”

Sara’s voice spun him around and he just barely caught sight of the orange flag before stepping down. He jumped, rolled, and got back to his feet. Looking back, he saw Red jump the flag as well.

Smarter than she looks, King thought.

“They’re all around us!” Sara shouted, feeling the presence of more than fifty individuals closing in from every direction . . . except for straight ahead. As Sara’s attention turned forward, she felt more bodies approaching. They were surrounded. “Up ahead! There are more up ahead!”

A sudden shock wave coupled with a loud whump generated by a hybrid stepping on a nearby land mine sent Sara and King flying. They shot forward, crashing into Rook just as he and Queen exited the field. Bishop and Knight fell behind them. The team climbed to their feet. Sara pulled her knife, as did King and Queen, ready to fight for their lives. Rook, nearly naked and weaponless, clenched his fists. Bishop put Knight down behind the others and then stood on point, ready to let his body take the brunt of the attack.

Then they saw the group waiting for them in the village of Anh Dung. Too many to count and far more deadly than Weston, Red, the hybrids, or the Death Volunteers. They did the only thing they could—dropped to their knees and waited for the end. It came quickly, as the mass of men before them opened fire.