Hybrid Zone Recognition Read online

  “Yes,” she stated firmly. “Like energy depravation, and foggy brain syndrome, and…and,”

  She was reaching this time.

  “Biteyourheadoffitis,” she finished.

  That was new, but not very original. Still, I couldn’t help but grin. “The last one being purely to alleviate the prior two symptoms, I’m sure.”

  “Precisely. Anyway, the taste benefits in my scorebook, as you well know, way exceed any nutritional benefits, which are considered merely an added benefit of marginal importance.”

  What? I shook my head in amusement. “There were a lot of words in there, Mir. Just save me a moon pie, okay?”

  “Already done. Where are you now?”

  “Same place. I’m pinned behind a tree. No one’s shooting at me from this side, so I think there’s only the one shooter.”

  I heard rustling in the trees to my right and inched my way closer towards the sound. Another shot rang out, confirming the shooter’s continued presence.

  “Dad gum it!” I swore, quickly jerking my foot back. That was three shots now.

  “Still with me, Greer?” Miranda suddenly belted in my ear.

  I jumped again at the sound of her voice. Pressing my hand to my chest, I took long deep breaths, trying to calm my heart. I wasn’t afraid. Startled, tired, hot, hungry and really annoyed, but not scared of the person with the gun. Maybe I was getting used to being shot at. It had been a rough couple of years.

  I angled my boot to look at the bottom outside edge. It had a rivet running the length of it. Once again, that was too close. Thank goodness for thick soled boots. My shooter obviously wasn’t the shoot and run type, which meant he was probably a professional. As if the impossible distance and near misses weren’t indication enough.

  “Macy!”

  “Yeah, I’m here,” I confirmed. “And, stop yelling.”

  “Sorry, Big Chief. It’s a little stressful.”

  “It ain’t all that and a bag of chips here either.”

  I wiped the sweat from my eyes with the back of my hand. I could do with some chips. Barbeque flavor maybe. Yeah, barbeque potato chips with a homemade hamburger right off the grill sounded great. And a big slice of apple pie. Or peach. Any fruit pie would do.

  My food reverie was interrupted when I spotted Kenny through the undergrowth. He was bent down working at something on the ground. With a knife?

  Making sure to stay firmly hidden behind the tree, I angled myself to get a better look at him. He was cutting the fishing line! Great. Just freaking great.

  “Kenny is making off with the sample,” I relayed to Miranda.

  “Oh, no,” she groaned. “This is unbelievable.”

  I completely sympathized with her groan.

  “That makes this what, five failed attempts? And now, we have to do this all over again?” she whined.

  Yep. Assuming I lived and that he’d be dumb enough to fall for this again. “Way to boost my confidence, Mir. I was feeling a little down in light of my still smoking failure.”

  “You know I live to be the wind beneath your wings,” she retorted.

  “Oh, I’m soaring. Where eagles fly.”

  “And mountain’s high?”

  “Something like that,” I sighed.

  Kenny grinned and waved the dart at me.

  Yeah, I see you. I smirked at him and waved back. Didn’t he know I was being shot at? He probably thought I deserved it. Maybe he was right. Then he was gone. He was getting faster.

  Miranda’s voice was sullen when she asked, “What do you want me to do?”

  I sighed again. Not much we could do. We weren’t supposed to be here, and what we were doing here wasn’t supposed to exist anymore. Leaning my head back against the tree, I thought about my options.

  “I guess I’ll have to wait him out. It’ll be dark in a couple of hours. Maybe I can shake him then.” Unless he had night vision equipment or infrared or buddies helping him pinpoint my location. Crap. Where was that bright side?

  “How do you know it’s a him?” Miranda asked.

  “I don’t. But aren’t two crazy women in this movie enough?”

  Resigned to wait, I dropped to my bottom, immediately alleviating the burning in my thighs. One problem solved. Now all I had to do was hope that he was working alone, didn’t move positions, didn’t have infrared or night vision goggles and wait till dark, at which time, I was going to somehow escape from my attacker by maneuvering silently through the woods in the dark. How could it possibly fail?

  “I could place an anonymous call for a local police unit,” she offered.

  “Because that wouldn’t draw attention to us at all,” I muttered. She probably didn’t deserve my sour tone. It wasn’t a good idea, but not a terrible one either. I’d save it as a last resort kind of thing.

  “It wouldn’t draw any more attention than all those crazy protestors are,” she said defensively.

  We did have some crazy protestors, complete with unwashed looks and wacko signs. But they weren’t all crazy or wrong.

  “You do realize some of them are right, don’t you?” I asked her.

  “We’re going to hell like Satan because we’re playing God?”

  “No! Not those crazies, the ones that are accusing the government of continuing the hybrid program.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked bluntly.

  What was I supposed to say to that? In truth, no, I was not absolutely sure. Maybe being shot at was a sign, but then, me surviving could also be a sign. Either way it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like I lived my life by following supposed signs. But being in these kinds of situations, which seemed to be happening more frequently, did make one stop and think.

  I took a deep breath and rolled my shoulders. It wasn’t this difficult when I first started this project. It had been research pure and simple. Now, it had become something more. Enough to warrant a trip to hell? I didn’t know. But I hadn’t been consumed by fire from on high nor had the ground opened up and swallowed me. That had to mean something, right?

  Maybe the Big Guy didn’t care. After all, other species evolved without divine intervention. Except for those pesky major earth extinction events. But those had to be purely due to chance. I mean, what could the dinosaurs have done to tick him off that much?

  Besides, I couldn’t find it written down anywhere that we weren’t supposed to alter the genetic code. Evolution itself was a slow alteration of the genetic code, and He put that in motion. For that matter, all sorts of things, like epidemics and natural catastrophes, impacted the human genome. Heck, even a person’s choice of mate could potentially alter the genetic code.

  I didn’t understand why people were so upset about something that happened all the time. Maybe the creation of human animal hybrids was a little more conspicuous than what nature produced. But it was still just science, the manipulation of a formula.

  Most cutting edge medical research was heading in that direction, too. Why would it be okay for one and not the other?

  Anyway, I rather thought God and I had a lot in common. I was a scientist…He was a scientist. That was another thing I didn’t understand, all the hoopla about God and science. To me, science was just figuring out how He did what He did. He created the puzzles, we solved them. It was a good setup. Unlike my current dilemma.

  “Did you go to sleep on me?” Miranda asked.

  I smiled at her poke. She was not one for silence. “No, just thinking about the morality of the human evolution of humankind.”

  “It is a conundrum.”

  I nodded then remembered she couldn’t see that. “Right you are. I think I have to choose to believe that He and I are on the same team until I know otherwise.”

  “Otherwise being?” she prompted.

  “Giant meteors hurtling towards earth?”

  “Yep,” she concurred, “extinction events might qualify as otherwise.”

  This wasn’t the first or even second time we’d had this sort of conversation
. Only the accompanying circumstances seemed to vary.

  “But, then again,” she lectured on, “many world cultures, even the Good Book, predict the end of the world.”

  Wow, this was such an emotionally uplifting discussion we were having. I took a breath prepared to rebut her, when I suddenly had a new brainstorm about the hunt for Kenny’s DNA. It was so obvious. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it before.

  “Hey Miranda, assuming I live through this, I think I have another idea about how to get Kenny’s DNA.”

  There was a long pause before she answered. “Does it involve me being stuck in this truck for three days again?”

  “I don’t think so, but I haven’t worked out the details yet. I could arrange it, if you like.”

  “I don’t,” she hissed.

  Her response was so filled with hostility that it made me laugh out loud. I quickly stifled the laugh behind my hands, but I was sure the damage was done. Letting the shooter know that I was still here probably wasn’t the smartest move.

  I dropped my hands and grimaced as I spit out the errant pieces of stuff that had transferred from my hands to my mouth. “Do believe me when I say you got the better deal.”

  “Just so we’re clear. I am not agreeing to the plan itself, only to listen to the plan.”

  I maintained my silence, knowing she wouldn’t be able to hold out for long. I could have heard her sigh even without the earpiece.

  “What’s the plan?” she said dejectedly.

  I opened my mouth to respond and then snapped it shut again when a sudden eruption of noise drew my attention. Listening intently, I determined it was coming from a good distance away on the other side of the tree.

  “Just a minute,” I told her.

  Tilting my head to the side, I strained to capture the sounds. There were several thuds followed by someone or something crashing through the woods. Whatever the origin of the sounds, there was no effort at concealment. The noises gradually faded until it was silent again. If I had to interpret what just happened, I’d say it sounded like a struggle of some kind.

  I resumed my crouch and ventured a quick look around the tree. No corresponding shot was fired. More slowly, I peered around the tree again. My head remained attached, always a good sign.

  Staring in the direction of the shooter, I didn’t see anyone. But I didn’t really know what I was looking for, and it was hard to see through all the foliage. There was no sun glinting off metal—learned that tidbit from one of my rare nights of watching television.

  I pulled back behind the tree as I mulled it over. If the shooter had still been there, he would have taken the shot. There was no hesitation in any of his previous attempts. Then there was the fact that I really detested waiting. Actually, it was the wasted time associated with waiting that I hated. Every now and then, there was a purpose in waiting. A really good one, like remaining alive.

  “Miranda, I’m going to start heading your way.”

  “You sure the coast is clear?”

  “I live in the gray, remember? I’m not absolutely positive, but I think so. I think I heard a fight. Maybe I have a guardian angel that beat up my assailant. I’m going to check it out. Keep your eyes open.”

  “The infrared doesn’t indicate the presence of wings,” she replied flatly.

  Ha, ha. “I meant watch for movement of any kind that would indicate I am not alone.”

  “When did you become the detective slash investigator person?”

  “Apparently, when I took this job,” I said, standing up. “It must have been in the fine print.”

  “Didn’t read it, did you?” she said accusingly.

  “Does anybody?” I said exasperated. “I just pressed accept.”

  With her voice still dripping with sarcasm, she asked, “Wonder what else you’ll become before this is done?”

  Taking a deep breath, I let it slowly blow out through my lips. Me, too, I thought. Me, too.

  I scanned the area one last time then told Miranda, “Ok, I’m signing off now, catch you in a few.”

  “Copy that, Tango. Meet you on the flip side.”

  Roger that, GI Wannabe. Now it was my turn to play the soldier.

  With my attention still fixed on the woods in front of me, I pulled the ear piece loose. I didn’t trust Miranda not to startle me when I was trying to be all stealthy like. Having tucked the ear piece into one of my pockets, I carefully eased around the tree.

  Kenny’s voice boomed into the silence. “Coast is clear.”

  I nearly jumped out of my skin.

  “Dang it, Kenny!” I yelled. “Do not sneak up on a girl when she is being shot at.” I crouched back down, elbows on my knees and my head resting in my hands. I knew my legs were going to pay for all this squatting at some point in the near future.

  “What are you gonna do?” he asked snidely. “Shoot me with your little gun again?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him mime a gun shot with his hand. I rolled my head to face him. “You gonna make me?”

  We regarded each other silently for a few moments. He the rebellious teen and me the what? I didn’t like any of the words that I could fill the blank with.

  “You could just give me the sample,” I finally said.

  “Where is the fun in that?” he snorted.

  I placed my hands on my knees and pushed to a stand. “Yeah, because crawling around the woods and being shot at is so much more fun.”

  “Works for me,” he affirmed.

  Well, I didn’t like how it was working for me. I knelt and began gathering my supplies when it occurred to me to question just how he knew the coast was clear. Pausing, I turned back to him. “Kenny, how do you know the coast is clear?”

  As I waited for his response, I noted the absence of his usual cocky smile. He looked dangerous and scary. I’d never seen him look scary before. Kenny was growing up.

  He held my eyes as he said, “I know because I cleared it.”

  Alarm bells began ringing in my head. How serious was he? Deadly serious? My alarm grew with the thought that, one, he might have hurt someone. And two, because he did it to protect me? Or maybe he was protecting something else in these woods. If he was after my full attention, he had it now.

  Supplies forgotten, I slowly stood up and faced him. “Kenny, what did you do?”

  He cocked his head sideways at me. It was an oddly reptilian move. He was studying me now, and I didn’t like it. It felt like I was in the presence of a predator, and I am not prey.

  “Let’s just say he won’t be bothering you anymore.”

  What did that mean? Was he admitting that he killed someone?

  Stunned by his answer, I was unsure what to say next. If I asked him outright, I wouldn’t have plausible deniability, should I need it. I also didn’t want to wrongfully accuse him of something. Not to mention, the unease I currently felt with his behavior. I truly hoped I hadn’t just witnessed the birth of a killer.

  One thing was certain, if Kenny now possessed the wherewithal to pair action with his teenage bravado, then I needed to know. For all our sakes.

  I swallowed and asked softly, “Could you define not bothering me anymore?”

  He must have seen the worry etched on my face. The cocky smile reappeared, and he looked like the Kenny that I knew.

  “Don’t worry, Doc,” he said. “He’s still alive. We just came to a…understanding.”

  Understanding, right. Whatever that meant.

  I didn’t know who was behind this most recent attack, but I did know that I didn’t want Kenny caught in the middle of it.

  “Kenny, you don’t want to do something that the HCF could use against you to deem you as a liability to them.” I put my hands on my hips, thinking about the best way to phrase what I wanted to say next. “If that happens, I don’t know if I could protect you, or they may decide to get rid of me and get someone in here that’s not as nice as me.”

  His response was immediate, and
he made no attempt to hide the threat in his voice. “Maybe, I wouldn’t be nice either.”

  I nodded. I wasn’t going to condemn someone for protecting themselves. But if he was entertaining the thought of violence, then I knew Kenny well enough to know that he was definitely hiding something out here. My hope of staying out of it seemed to be vanishing right before my eyes.

  “I don’t know what you are currently up to or what you’re protecting.” I put my hand up to forestall his answer. “I’m not sure that I should know…that it’s safe for me to know.” I waited until understanding dawned in his eyes. “Just be careful. If it reaches a point where you feel I need to know or you need my help, then you fill me in. Okay?”

  “Sure thing, Doc,” he nodded.

  What had I just gotten myself into? I just kept digging the whole deeper and deeper. Would someone please take the shovel away from me now!

  Regardless of my implied pledge of help, I was relieved at Kenny’s assurance. Maybe he wasn’t in over his head, and maybe he wouldn’t drag me down with him. Not that I would have minded the death of my assailant. He had tried to kill me. But I wouldn’t want it at Kenny’s expense.

  Having retrieved a sterile cup from my duffle, I held it out to Kenny. “Would you mind peeing in this cup for me?” I knew it wasn’t the best DNA sample to have, but it would at least be something for all my trouble.

  A sharp laugh escaped him as he looked with contempt at my extended hand. “You’re funny, Doc.” Then he took off again.

  Yeah, didn’t think so. That would be too easy.

  I belatedly realized that I had forgotten to thank him for rescuing me. “Thanks for saving me, Kenny!” I shouted at his retreating form. I hoped he heard me. And I hoped he stayed on my side, especially when I finally won this game.

  I finished packing my supplies and made my way over to where I thought the fighting sounds had originated. I knew I was there when I spotted the shell casings on the ground.

  I retrieved a pair of tweezers from my duffle and picked one up. The letters DTP followed by a space and then a smudged GM were stamped along the top. Unless the Department of Transportation and General Motors did a whole lot more than transportation related goods and services, I had no idea what the letters stood for.