Page 61 of Hunter

The dim, empty corridor was like a set in a slasher movie. Ordinary—but filled with hidden danger around the next bend.

The intersection of the two hallways loomed directly ahead. Stopping a couple of feet short of the juncture, she paused and listened intently but heard only the sound of the unseen machinery. When she cautiously peered around the bend, she saw a desk that might have been a guard station. However, at this hour in the morning, it was empty.

Making a quick decision, she proceeded to her right. Along the new route, she found several doors. The first was locked. The second was open. When she shined her light inside, she saw a small office with another desk and a chair. But the surface of the desk was bare, and the space looked unused.

Maybe there was no current activity in the building. Maybe the research center had been moved to another building, she speculated, ordering herself to chill out. The advice only raised goose bumps on her arms.

What if she got trapped inside this place, she wondered, as she continued down the hall, then tried to cancel the frightening thought. Moments later, she realized the worry wasn’t pure speculation. It had been triggered by a tiny sound coming to her above the whine of the machinery.

Voices, she realized, suddenly. Someone talking in an angry tone. Someone answering. And they were coming closer.

She had only seconds to decide. Another door was several feet in front of her, but it might be locked. Going back toward whoever was coming along the hallway was terrifying, yet it was the best choice she could make. In a frantic dash, she sprinted toward the oncoming sound, yanked the door of the office open, and leaped inside. The moment she was hidden from view, her knees turned to jelly, and she pressed herself against the wall to keep from melting to the floor.

Heart thumping against her ribs, she looked around the little room. There was no other exit, not even a window. If whoever was coming down the hall opened the door, she would be caught like a rat in a trap. But it wouldn’t happen, she told herself. The office hadn’t been used in a long time.

The voices came closer, and with a chill that went all the way to her bones, she realized that the angry person was Dr. Swinton.

“I don’t understand why we’re having this problem!” he growled. “We should be getting a much better success rate. But another one is going bad.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the other speaker replied. “Perhaps, you’ve. . . uh. . . pushed the growth rate a little high. A few more weeks to maturity shouldn’t hold up the project too much, and it might make the difference. . ..”

She recognized this man, too. It was Swinton’s assistant, Roger Anderson.

An ominous silence followed Anderson’s reasonable-sounding suggestion. Then Swinton asked, his voice so sharp that Kathryn felt the words were piercing her flesh, “Are you sure you followed procedures exactly?”

“Yes, sir. It’s not the fault of the life support system. It’s the inherent problems with keeping genetic material viable.”

The voices were receding now, and she dared to let out the breath she was holding.

“The genetic material is perfect!” Swinton growled.

“Yes, sir. But there are always problems. If you read the literature—” She didn’t catch the rest of the response because the man’s placating voice was now too far away. But she still heard Swinton loud and clear.

“I don’t need to read the goddam literature. I know more than anybody else working in the field. And I don’t want to hear any excuses. You will prepare for a new trial. We will start on the next shift.”

She stood silently in the dark, thinking about the conversation and the strained relationship between the two men. Things weren’t going the way Swinton expected, and he was blaming his subordinate. But she still couldn’t be certain about what type of experiments he was conducting.

After ten minutes without any further interruption, she decided it was safe to open the door. When she peeked cautiously out, the corridor was empty. The temptation to run for the nearest exit was overwhelming. Instead, she stood rubbing the chill bumps on her arms as she considered her options.

It sounded like Swinton and an assistant had been working late. Or maybe the doctor had come by for a surprise inspection. If she retraced their route, she might find out what they’d been doing.

Turning in the direction from which she’d come, she headed for the place where the hallways crossed. Arbitrarily, she turned left and found herself in a section of the building where the temperature was even colder than before. Teeth clenched to keep them from chattering, she listened intently but heard only the constant whine of the machinery. The sound seemed to be coming from behind a door about ten feet along the corridor—where she could see the red glow of a night light shining along the bottom of the jamb. Somehow it made her think of fire seeping up from the depths of hell, and she had the sudden conviction that she didn’t want to find out what was in that room.

Yet she kept moving forward until she could wrap her fingers around the door handle. In the back of her mind, she hoped it would be locked. Instead, it turned noiselessly, and she stepped inside. In the red light she could see several large tanks with glass walls. For a moment, she wondered if this was an aquarium. Then she saw what was floating in the rectangular containers, and a scream of mingled horror and protest rose in her throat.

Chapter Ten

Somehow, she managed to stifle the scream so that it came out as a kind of helpless sob. She wanted to back out of the room and run headlong down the corridor, but her legs quite literally refused to move. Rooted to the spot, she stood in frozen horror, her eyes fixed on the closest tank. Inside, a naked man floated, a man lying on his side, with his knees pulled toward his chest and his eyes closed.

In the eerie red light, she could see tubes attached to his wrists and his mouth. For feeding? Oxygen? Restraint? Some detached part of her brain asked the questions, as she observed him. The rest of her fought a kind of sick horror at what she was seeing.

She stood breathing in gasps of the chilly air, trying not to pass out. The crazy thought ran through her head that she was watching a scene from an alien abduction movie, except that extraterrestrials had not created this experimental laboratory.

It was a human invention, from the diabolical mind of Dr. Swinton. Aided by Anderson and Emerson and the rest of them.

Revulsion engulfed her, and she held on to the metal doorframe to remain erect. It took every ounce of fortitude she possessed to keep standing in the doorway. But she had to know more, so she managed not to turn and run.

Stay calm, she ordered herself. You must stay calm.

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