"Dr. Hayworth," said Dawn, edging her way into a medium sized office, converted into a small one by stacks of books and journals along the walls.
"Have we met?" asked the man behind the desk, raising his bushy salt and pepper eyebrows and peering at them over his glasses.
"Not formally, anyway. I'm Dawn, and I'd like you to meet my friend. . ."
"Mike," interrupted Lydecker, who looked around the room as if trying to find a safe place to stand between the piles of paper and the file cabinets.
"Nice to meet the two of you. I'm running late, so if we can discuss whatever it is some other time. . ." The fluorescent lights reflected off the tanned dome of his skull.
"We should get lost?" finished Dek, raising an eyebrow. He didn't move from the doorway.
"I've been doing some research on your work," said Dawn. "I'm very concerned that someone wants you and your research gone." Lydecker leaned out of the door frame looked both ways down the hall.
"If this is about the office break-in two days ago, I'm not worried." The man took a few photos from his desk and stuffed them into a green knapsack.
"What was missing?" asked Dawn.
"Just my computers and some notes. They made a big mess, and my students and I are just getting things sorted out again."
"In my opinion, there is a credible threat on your life." Lydecker stood with his arms crossed, facing Hayworth at his desk.
"Dawn, how do you know Mike?" asked Hayworth, frowning at her. "And why do you trust his opinion?"
"Look, we think that if you'd just stay some place safe for a day or two, we can figure out who it is, and why," Dawn protested. She had no idea how they were going to do that.
"I have important things to do." Hayworth zipped the bag and slid back his chair. "We are shutting down the excavation for the season, and I need to be there."
"If you don't mind," said Dek, facing the hall again. "We'd like to see your dig site."
"Fine, I can't stop you two idiots from following me around." Hayworth stood up. "Nothing is going to happen, and you will find that archeology is incredibly boring."
When the three of them got out to the parking lot, they found that the sky had clouded over, and a light but cold rain was being driven by the wind. Dr. Hayworth headed for a red Volkswagen microbus. Dawn noticed the rainbow sheen of leaking oil on the wet blacktop under the vehicle.
"No," said Dek to the professor. "We're not taking that. Dawn, you're driving."
****
At Hayworth's direction, Dawn headed East on the freeway, out of town, into the mountains. The clouds and rain shadowed everything with grey, even the last few stubborn leaves on the trees. The weeds in the median looked old and tired.
"We've got an hour's drive before our next turn," Hayworth said, feeling wedged between the two of them on the seat.
"What are we going to do?" asked Dawn.
"That depends on what we find when we get to Hayworth's dig site." Mike started pulling things out of the pockets of his jacket.
The scrape of metal on metal attracted Hayworth's attention. The man was thumbing shiny brass cylinders into the grey metal shape of a . . . pistol clip. "9 mm JHP" he read from the end of the open cardboard box.
"When did you get a gun?" asked the girl on his left, with no sign of surprise in her voice.
"A certain security guard wasn't using it anymore." The full magazine went into Mike's jacket pocket, and an empty one came out. "I did pick up a couple of spare magazines and more ammo, though." The second full magazine went back into a pocket, and he put the cardboard box with the last of the cartridges into the glove compartment.
"Oh," she said. "That means it's been in my apartment for two weeks now without you bothering to mention it to me?"
"Great," thought Hayworth. "I don't have to worry about the bus breaking down, but I've probably just hitched a ride with a couple of serial killers."
***
Dawn relaxed as the road wound up into the hills. Two lanes of blacktop headed off into the mountains. Bare, damp Winter trees and brush were crowding the gravel shoulder of the highway. Traffic was light this far away from the city. Her two passengers were riding in silence.
"Stupid bastard!" snapped Dawn, as a black SUV overtook and swerved into her lane. She stomped on the pedal, and listened to the brakes squeal. "Put on your glasses or something." Now it was ahead of her, and weaving across both lanes.
"It's hostile, Dawn." Dek, from his seat next to the window.
"Yeah, well I'm feeling pretty hostile after that." She didn't like that sort of near miss. They always left her feeling shaky for half an hour afterwards.
"I think I recognized the driver. And that's a scrape down the left side." Dek's calm voice didn't make Dawn feel any better. "Trying to kill us hostile."
"Shit!" yelled Dawn as the SUV's brake lights lit up. She yanked the wheel left, and felt gravel under the tires as truck reached the opposite shoulder. Much more carefully, she urged it back onto the pavement and back across the oncoming lane, now ahead of the other vehicle.
"It's time to increase someone else's stress level," offered Dek. She glanced over to see him kneeling on the floor, back against the dashboard. She heard him run the window down, and looked back to see him shoulder against the door. Both his hands were wrapped around a pistol, and braced against the back edge of the door frame.
The SUV was gaining on them again. She heard two shots in quick succession, and something metal bouncing around inside the cab, but it didn't seem to be as important as the right turn coming up.
"I'm calling the police," said Hayworth. Dawn could hear the tones of a cell phone dialing as she swung the truck into a tight turn, wheels just over the white line. The big SUV roared by on the left, swinging wide.
"Don't!" growled Dek. "The police will just get here in time to ID the bodies." He wasn't trying to shoot any more. The pistol was in his left hand, and he had a grip on Hayworth's wrist, and was slamming the phone on the dash, trying to dislodge it from his hand.
"Are you nuts?" demanded Hayworth.
"Put down the phone or I'm going to use you as a speed bump." The phone fell to the floor, and Lydecker twisted himself around to aim forward.
Two more shots, painfully loud over the wind noise, and Dawn saw the right rear tire go flat.
She floored the accelerator, and passed the bigger vehicle on the left. The tach needle flirted with the red line.
"Steady," said Dek, just barely audible over the wind noise, and now facing backwards again.
"Can't do that," she thought, letting the truck slow to be ready as the road curved left. The truck's rear tires slid outward on the rain-slick pavement as she entered the curve, but she kept control. "Don't roll it, Dawn."
The truck was back on the straightaway. Dawn gave it more gas, and glanced in the rear view mirror again.
One more shot, and the SUV turned crossways on the road, smoke coming from the ruined tires.
"Pay attention," she ordered herself, and saw the double yellow line curving right again. She braked sharply and swung the truck around to follow.
"Pull over," said Dek quietly. He made the gun disappear, and picked up Hayworth's cell phone from under the seat.
She coasted to a stop on the gravel shoulder. Dek opened the door and jumped out. "Back in a few." He was pulling on a pair of gloves as he turned and disappeared into the brush and trees.
Dawn looked down and realized that her hands hurt because she still had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.
"That Mike guy is trouble," Hayworth was saying. "Those military types don't have any respect for research, or human life, or any of the important things."
"Who's Mike?" wondered Dawn silently as she opened and closed her hands. She could still feel tension in her arms and across her shoulders, but it would go away if she just sat here long enough.
"There are lots of ways to deal with problems without shooting," continued Hayworth, and Dawn realized he was talking about Dek.
"I think we just saved your ass," said Dawn. She opened her window, hoping to get some air that didn't smell of fear. Little bits of rain blew in, and she could smell the mud and rain.
Eventually the professor ran out of unkind things to say about 'Mike,' and the two of them sat watching the rain bounce off the hood of the truck.
Motion from the trees caught her eye, and she watched Dek stroll around the front, eyes focused at the level of her front bumper. He stopped at her door, and pulled something rectangular out of a pocket.
"See if you recognize any of these, Dr. Hayworth," he said, reaching past Dawn to hand over the item. Hayworth flipped it open. It was a photo album, with a picture labeled "Hayworth" on top.
"That was some good driving, Dawn." His hand was on her arm, two fingers on her brown wool sweater, the others against the back of her hand. The light glinted off the ring, and she remembered her hurried research to find out if there was a woman somewhere who would want to know Donald Lydecker was still alive.
"Not only are we still right-side up, but you didn't even let him scratch the paint." Dawn realized that she hadn't noticed the creases at the corners of his eyes because she hadn't ever seen him smile before.
She smiled back. "Why do I feel like I've just won the lottery?" she wondered.
"We need to call the police," said Hayworth. "You've got my phone." Dek's hand slid off her arm.
Dek circled around the back of the truck, and climbed in. "Sure," he said, handing it over. "But it's too late to do any good."
Dawn put the truck in 'drive' and put them back on the empty road.
The professor had reached the back of the little album. He slid one of the pictures out of its sleeve, and examined the back. He turned to Dek, and studied his profile for a long moment.
"So you're Lydecker!"
"Yes."
"Amie always said you were a total asshole and she was looking forward to your funeral." Hayworth handed the little book of pictures back to Dek.
"I'm sorry that didn't work out for her. She was a valuable member of the genetics team."
"They never did tell me what happened."
"There was a good reason for the closed coffin. She was in the wrong place when the last of the X-2s tried to break out."
The professor turned towards her. "Dawn, did you know that your friend is the project manager for X-5? He knows where the bodies are buried, literally and figuratively."
"Dek?" she asked. Why wasn't she surprised?
"Was the project manager. Notice that I'm in that little book of targets."
"What are you up to now?" inquired the professor.
"Trying to stay alive, and trying to figure out what was really going on."
"If you don't know what was happening, no one does."
"I'm not so sure about that. I recently saw a genetic analysis of one of my Xs that differs substantially from our specifications. I think Sandeman's group might have had something up their sleeve."
"You weren't real popular with them."
"Do you have any of Amie's notes or files that escaped the cleanup team after she died?" asked Lydecker.
Dawn felt the silence like a physical weight. She watched the rain streaming off the windshield, the silver-grey trunks of the birch trees whipping by, and the distant hills gliding by in the mist.
"Dawn, I've got a couple of things you might be interested in," said Hayworth suddenly. "I'll give them to a friend who can meet you at a party tomorrow. I'd bring them myself, but I'm going to be taking your advice and leaving the country for a couple of weeks."
"Thank you," said Dek.
"Lydecker, I'm not doing this for you."
"Well, that killed that conversation," thought Dawn.
"Have we met?" asked the man behind the desk, raising his bushy salt and pepper eyebrows and peering at them over his glasses.
"Not formally, anyway. I'm Dawn, and I'd like you to meet my friend. . ."
"Mike," interrupted Lydecker, who looked around the room as if trying to find a safe place to stand between the piles of paper and the file cabinets.
"Nice to meet the two of you. I'm running late, so if we can discuss whatever it is some other time. . ." The fluorescent lights reflected off the tanned dome of his skull.
"We should get lost?" finished Dek, raising an eyebrow. He didn't move from the doorway.
"I've been doing some research on your work," said Dawn. "I'm very concerned that someone wants you and your research gone." Lydecker leaned out of the door frame looked both ways down the hall.
"If this is about the office break-in two days ago, I'm not worried." The man took a few photos from his desk and stuffed them into a green knapsack.
"What was missing?" asked Dawn.
"Just my computers and some notes. They made a big mess, and my students and I are just getting things sorted out again."
"In my opinion, there is a credible threat on your life." Lydecker stood with his arms crossed, facing Hayworth at his desk.
"Dawn, how do you know Mike?" asked Hayworth, frowning at her. "And why do you trust his opinion?"
"Look, we think that if you'd just stay some place safe for a day or two, we can figure out who it is, and why," Dawn protested. She had no idea how they were going to do that.
"I have important things to do." Hayworth zipped the bag and slid back his chair. "We are shutting down the excavation for the season, and I need to be there."
"If you don't mind," said Dek, facing the hall again. "We'd like to see your dig site."
"Fine, I can't stop you two idiots from following me around." Hayworth stood up. "Nothing is going to happen, and you will find that archeology is incredibly boring."
When the three of them got out to the parking lot, they found that the sky had clouded over, and a light but cold rain was being driven by the wind. Dr. Hayworth headed for a red Volkswagen microbus. Dawn noticed the rainbow sheen of leaking oil on the wet blacktop under the vehicle.
"No," said Dek to the professor. "We're not taking that. Dawn, you're driving."
****
At Hayworth's direction, Dawn headed East on the freeway, out of town, into the mountains. The clouds and rain shadowed everything with grey, even the last few stubborn leaves on the trees. The weeds in the median looked old and tired.
"We've got an hour's drive before our next turn," Hayworth said, feeling wedged between the two of them on the seat.
"What are we going to do?" asked Dawn.
"That depends on what we find when we get to Hayworth's dig site." Mike started pulling things out of the pockets of his jacket.
The scrape of metal on metal attracted Hayworth's attention. The man was thumbing shiny brass cylinders into the grey metal shape of a . . . pistol clip. "9 mm JHP" he read from the end of the open cardboard box.
"When did you get a gun?" asked the girl on his left, with no sign of surprise in her voice.
"A certain security guard wasn't using it anymore." The full magazine went into Mike's jacket pocket, and an empty one came out. "I did pick up a couple of spare magazines and more ammo, though." The second full magazine went back into a pocket, and he put the cardboard box with the last of the cartridges into the glove compartment.
"Oh," she said. "That means it's been in my apartment for two weeks now without you bothering to mention it to me?"
"Great," thought Hayworth. "I don't have to worry about the bus breaking down, but I've probably just hitched a ride with a couple of serial killers."
***
Dawn relaxed as the road wound up into the hills. Two lanes of blacktop headed off into the mountains. Bare, damp Winter trees and brush were crowding the gravel shoulder of the highway. Traffic was light this far away from the city. Her two passengers were riding in silence.
"Stupid bastard!" snapped Dawn, as a black SUV overtook and swerved into her lane. She stomped on the pedal, and listened to the brakes squeal. "Put on your glasses or something." Now it was ahead of her, and weaving across both lanes.
"It's hostile, Dawn." Dek, from his seat next to the window.
"Yeah, well I'm feeling pretty hostile after that." She didn't like that sort of near miss. They always left her feeling shaky for half an hour afterwards.
"I think I recognized the driver. And that's a scrape down the left side." Dek's calm voice didn't make Dawn feel any better. "Trying to kill us hostile."
"Shit!" yelled Dawn as the SUV's brake lights lit up. She yanked the wheel left, and felt gravel under the tires as truck reached the opposite shoulder. Much more carefully, she urged it back onto the pavement and back across the oncoming lane, now ahead of the other vehicle.
"It's time to increase someone else's stress level," offered Dek. She glanced over to see him kneeling on the floor, back against the dashboard. She heard him run the window down, and looked back to see him shoulder against the door. Both his hands were wrapped around a pistol, and braced against the back edge of the door frame.
The SUV was gaining on them again. She heard two shots in quick succession, and something metal bouncing around inside the cab, but it didn't seem to be as important as the right turn coming up.
"I'm calling the police," said Hayworth. Dawn could hear the tones of a cell phone dialing as she swung the truck into a tight turn, wheels just over the white line. The big SUV roared by on the left, swinging wide.
"Don't!" growled Dek. "The police will just get here in time to ID the bodies." He wasn't trying to shoot any more. The pistol was in his left hand, and he had a grip on Hayworth's wrist, and was slamming the phone on the dash, trying to dislodge it from his hand.
"Are you nuts?" demanded Hayworth.
"Put down the phone or I'm going to use you as a speed bump." The phone fell to the floor, and Lydecker twisted himself around to aim forward.
Two more shots, painfully loud over the wind noise, and Dawn saw the right rear tire go flat.
She floored the accelerator, and passed the bigger vehicle on the left. The tach needle flirted with the red line.
"Steady," said Dek, just barely audible over the wind noise, and now facing backwards again.
"Can't do that," she thought, letting the truck slow to be ready as the road curved left. The truck's rear tires slid outward on the rain-slick pavement as she entered the curve, but she kept control. "Don't roll it, Dawn."
The truck was back on the straightaway. Dawn gave it more gas, and glanced in the rear view mirror again.
One more shot, and the SUV turned crossways on the road, smoke coming from the ruined tires.
"Pay attention," she ordered herself, and saw the double yellow line curving right again. She braked sharply and swung the truck around to follow.
"Pull over," said Dek quietly. He made the gun disappear, and picked up Hayworth's cell phone from under the seat.
She coasted to a stop on the gravel shoulder. Dek opened the door and jumped out. "Back in a few." He was pulling on a pair of gloves as he turned and disappeared into the brush and trees.
Dawn looked down and realized that her hands hurt because she still had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.
"That Mike guy is trouble," Hayworth was saying. "Those military types don't have any respect for research, or human life, or any of the important things."
"Who's Mike?" wondered Dawn silently as she opened and closed her hands. She could still feel tension in her arms and across her shoulders, but it would go away if she just sat here long enough.
"There are lots of ways to deal with problems without shooting," continued Hayworth, and Dawn realized he was talking about Dek.
"I think we just saved your ass," said Dawn. She opened her window, hoping to get some air that didn't smell of fear. Little bits of rain blew in, and she could smell the mud and rain.
Eventually the professor ran out of unkind things to say about 'Mike,' and the two of them sat watching the rain bounce off the hood of the truck.
Motion from the trees caught her eye, and she watched Dek stroll around the front, eyes focused at the level of her front bumper. He stopped at her door, and pulled something rectangular out of a pocket.
"See if you recognize any of these, Dr. Hayworth," he said, reaching past Dawn to hand over the item. Hayworth flipped it open. It was a photo album, with a picture labeled "Hayworth" on top.
"That was some good driving, Dawn." His hand was on her arm, two fingers on her brown wool sweater, the others against the back of her hand. The light glinted off the ring, and she remembered her hurried research to find out if there was a woman somewhere who would want to know Donald Lydecker was still alive.
"Not only are we still right-side up, but you didn't even let him scratch the paint." Dawn realized that she hadn't noticed the creases at the corners of his eyes because she hadn't ever seen him smile before.
She smiled back. "Why do I feel like I've just won the lottery?" she wondered.
"We need to call the police," said Hayworth. "You've got my phone." Dek's hand slid off her arm.
Dek circled around the back of the truck, and climbed in. "Sure," he said, handing it over. "But it's too late to do any good."
Dawn put the truck in 'drive' and put them back on the empty road.
The professor had reached the back of the little album. He slid one of the pictures out of its sleeve, and examined the back. He turned to Dek, and studied his profile for a long moment.
"So you're Lydecker!"
"Yes."
"Amie always said you were a total asshole and she was looking forward to your funeral." Hayworth handed the little book of pictures back to Dek.
"I'm sorry that didn't work out for her. She was a valuable member of the genetics team."
"They never did tell me what happened."
"There was a good reason for the closed coffin. She was in the wrong place when the last of the X-2s tried to break out."
The professor turned towards her. "Dawn, did you know that your friend is the project manager for X-5? He knows where the bodies are buried, literally and figuratively."
"Dek?" she asked. Why wasn't she surprised?
"Was the project manager. Notice that I'm in that little book of targets."
"What are you up to now?" inquired the professor.
"Trying to stay alive, and trying to figure out what was really going on."
"If you don't know what was happening, no one does."
"I'm not so sure about that. I recently saw a genetic analysis of one of my Xs that differs substantially from our specifications. I think Sandeman's group might have had something up their sleeve."
"You weren't real popular with them."
"Do you have any of Amie's notes or files that escaped the cleanup team after she died?" asked Lydecker.
Dawn felt the silence like a physical weight. She watched the rain streaming off the windshield, the silver-grey trunks of the birch trees whipping by, and the distant hills gliding by in the mist.
"Dawn, I've got a couple of things you might be interested in," said Hayworth suddenly. "I'll give them to a friend who can meet you at a party tomorrow. I'd bring them myself, but I'm going to be taking your advice and leaving the country for a couple of weeks."
"Thank you," said Dek.
"Lydecker, I'm not doing this for you."
"Well, that killed that conversation," thought Dawn.
