CHAPTER TWENTYSIX
Having finished with his errand, Jarod now started on the way back to the house, passing a large four story house surrounded by a white metallic fence, and felt an odd familiarity. He shook his head. Dominants would not live in so obvious a manner, even important ones like the Supreme Chosen until they gained power.
He was just about to go towards it, for if there were Dominants in it masquerading as homo sapiens, it was only politeness to talk to them. He was new in the area, a Lost Ship Dominant, and even though the war between the Dominants and the homo sapiens was at a lull, every new Dominant had to inform the regular Mexican Dominants that he or she could be depended upon. So Jarod walked over, knocked on the door, and a familiar presence opened it.
"Jarod?"
It was Cox.
"I guess you're surprised to see me, Doctor, but we're looking for a certain man." He described the Dead Beat. "So what name are you using?"
"Colby." He invited him in, offering him a drink, all out of politeness and got down to explanations. Of course it was mostly lies, nothing about being in the Witness Protection Program, something about a name mix up. "That man sounds like a Arthur Wyneth. He's entering the Pageant. You heard about it? Comes every year. Last year it started in Mexico, this year it started in Alaska."
"You wouldn't know the name of his yacht?"
Cox thought for a moment. "I believe it was the Dollars Day or was it Doris Day?" When Jarod gave a puzzled look, Cox explained the latter was a famous actress popular in the fifties and sixties. "I wanted to take a photo of it, but Wyneth made such a fuss and I've been having a bit of trouble. Called the Marshall's office about it."
Something tingled in Jarod's senses. "Witness Protection. Who's after you? Willard?"
"No doubt. You know that he along with Sam were the only ones unaccounted for. I know Willie, I mean Willard's grandfather was a Nazi, and his father was in the Hitler youth. That's why the Centre recruited him. His grandfather was so notorious no decent organization would hire him. Anyway when I told the authorities about Raines wanting to starve those children, I had to do something."
It was the natural reasoning of an obstetrician. If the Centre decided to starve the adult Pretenders and other prisoners, Cox would not say a word, but children were a different matter.
Jarod finished his drink. His metabolism absorbed the alcohol so it did not affect him as it would a homo sapien. He took it all in; the doctor had ratted on the Centre to the law, but did not tell the whole story. The authorities did not know about the Dominants, how the Centre hunted them down. All they knew was that the Centre used the simulations not for its intended purpose, but the opposite.
"So how did you explain the children?"
"Did not.'
"What?" Jarod was standing up now for his five-minute sense was kicking in. Someone was closing in on them. He did not know who was in danger, he or Cox. He had to get back to the Beach house. It was not just the sense, it was something else, but he was too far away to know.
"They were released when I called the FBI and what good would it do? I heard that Lambourni released a new copy of the Dominant book. It'll probably take a few generations before things are right."
"I would say that. I hope you talked about the improper sanitation, improper lighting, etc." He was going towards the door.
"Yes. I explained the drugged food as being stored in a neglectful manner, environmentally unsafe and that the reaction of certain of the employees to the food was a form of chronic food poisoning. The Food and Drug administration stepped in and analyzed a sample, finding an unknown substance. I made sure that only those affected by the drug would volunteer. That did it. They ordered the drug destroyed, not only that, but how to make it."
Starting towards the door, Jarod saw Liza, waving hello to her. "As far as anyone knows, I just stopped in to see Dr. Colby because my wife's expecting."
"Well thank you, Mr. di Angela." Cox closed the door behind him.
Now Jarod would have been all right, if not at that particular time, one of the abortionists threw something that missed Cox and he hollered back at them. And Jarod would not be in danger if that particular woman had not threw the bag of entrails or what have you behind the Pretender's back.
Suddenly a police officer appeared, calling out, "Stop!'
For a second, Jarod looked around, but seeing no one committing in the air, just started to walk away.
"Stop in the name of the law!"
He turned around, seeing one of the police officers draw his gun and then Jarod knew. They were after him. It's California, the homo sapiens are after all of the New Species! He walked a little faster and then broke into a run. His five minute sense saw one policeman getting into his squad car, and the other one taking off on foot, going in such a way as to overtake him. They were planning to corner him. Quickly Jarod altered his course, using the tactics that he had used on the run for so many years. He sped down a lane, and then along the beach, going from pile to pile, and seeing his destination getting closer and closer.
And then his second five minute sense kicked in, his children were in danger and he had to make it to the beach house before the five minutes were up else it would be too late.
"Stop!" yelled one of the police and another shouted, "I can't catch up with him!"
"Get the squad car and I'll cut him off!'
Jarod jumped over a fence, saying, "Excuse me" to a pit bull that tried bite him, wracked the animal so hard, it flew backwards into a marble statue of Venus de Milo, and yelped in pain.
Leaving the dying animal, he ran out of the yard with the police closing in on him, but he was almost at the beach house, when a shot ran out, and he felt a sting in his shoulder and smelled gunpowder.
Jarod felt the pain from the bullet, now lodged in his shoulder but that did not slow him down for if he did, his children would be dead.
