Toys - James Patterson [74]
But the coordinates checked out, so I landed the car cautiously in the thick cover of a coppice of evergreen and spruce trees.
The instant I stepped out of the vehicle, it was like someone had flipped a switch. The forest started moving. Shadowy shapes suddenly appeared from behind tree trunks, dropped down from branches, rose up out of the brush.
Humans! I realized with a start.
They came striding toward me with assault rifles in their hands—except for a few who held short bows and had quivers of arrows slung over their shoulders. One of them bared his teeth in a wide, fierce grin.
“Hays Baker!” shouted the man.
“Tazh Khan!” I roared back. “You’re here to fight. So am I!”
As we clasped forearms, he sniffed the air and his face turned serious and concerned.
“Blood of you,” he declared. “You hurt?”
“It’s nothing. Hand-to-hand combat. I’ve been hurt a lot worse. By you, matter of fact.”
Tazh Khan kept sniffing, then jerked his head toward Lizbeth’s prison cell, aka the family refrigerator, where she remained concealed.
“Other blood there.”
“She’s OK. For the moment. I’m keeping her on ice, so to speak. It’s my wife. Where’s Lucy?”
“Come.” He and some of his men took off in a loping run. By now I’d realized that they weren’t the only soldiers here. The forest was filled with moving shadows—an army of tens of thousands, men and women both, stretching as far as I could see. They must have been converging for days, landing at remote locations and traveling here covertly. Suddenly, I felt like I was in one of the World Wars that the humans once fought—I, II, or III, take your pick.
My pulse quickened with both anxiety and, strangely, pride. Humankind might not have much of a chance against whatever outrage the Elites had planned, but their courage was inspiring. It really was.
I hoisted the refrigeration unit up onto my shoulder and followed Tazh. Almost immediately, Lizbeth started to cry out, but it made no difference to me. I was committed to this betrayal.
I felt like I was carrying the weight of the world—and in all probability, that’s what I was doing.
Chapter 102
I WAS ESCORTED to the human army’s fleet of vehicles—armored cars and a few tanks, which were camouflaged in the brush. A cluster of jeeps and trucks had been pulled together to form a command post.
What a sight when I stepped inside! The station was crowded with the human leaders of the world—faces of those whom I’d last seen dying under ruthless Elite gunfire in France, not knowing that they were clones and all part of a master plan to fight back, to survive somehow.
And survive not just here—all over North America, Europe, Asia.
The leaders went silent for a second—then they burst into excited conversations as they realized who I was and what I was bringing to them: Lizbeth.
The real Chantal Dugare came hurrying toward me, looking even more stunning and imposing than her double had. “Hezz! How nice to really meet you!”
“How nice to see you alive,” I said.
“Yes, I much prefer it that way too. You are very handsome, Hezz.”
The crowd quieted and moved aside as she led me to the front of the compound, which had been set up like an operating-room theater. I suspected that I already knew why.
Lucy was waiting there, busily arranging surgical equipment on a table. She didn’t burst out with any thrilled “Oh, Hays, you did it”—just flashed me a quiet smile. She’d obviously never doubted that I would come, which was high praise coming from her.
“Set it over there. I mean—set her over there!”
She pointed at the operating table. Then Lucy started putting on a surgical gown.
“You’re going to do this operation yourself?” I said, astonished. I’d assumed that she was prepping for a physician who had yet to arrive.
“Of course I’m going to do the operation. Who else would do it?”
“Where’d you learn… to be a doctor?”
“From your parents—where do you think?” she said impatiently.