Chapter 13 - The Defector
"Wrap him up. Now," Evie said, her voice shaking for the first time since I met her. "The EMP blast will bring every Vanguard asset in the hemisphere to this exact coordinate. We have sixty seconds."
I wrapped my son in a sterile thermal blanket from the vet supply, tucking him against my chest. I scooped Mara up into my arms. She was unconscious now, her body completely depleted.
We stumbled out the back door of the clinic into the cool night air. The Vanguard tactical team was in complete disarray. Their radios were dead, their night-vision goggles were fried, and their helicopter was a smoking wreck in the parking lot.
Evie led us through the tall, dry grass toward a dark, unmarked dirt road behind the clinic.
"Where are we going?" I gasped, my arms burning from carrying Mara's dead weight.
"There," Evie pointed.
Idling in the shadows beneath a cluster of dead mesquite trees was a heavily armored, matte-black Mercedes G-Wagon. The door swung open as we approached.
"Get in!" a sharp voice ordered from the driver's seat.
"Who is that?" I hesitated.
"Salvation," Evie said, pushing me toward the door.
I carefully loaded Mara into the spacious backseat, climbing in beside her and pulling the baby close. Evie jumped into the passenger seat. Before I could even close the door, the driver floored it. The heavy SUV roared to life, tearing down the dirt road with its headlights completely off, navigating by the moonlight alone.
I looked at the driver in the rearview mirror. He was an older man, late sixties, with a neatly trimmed white beard and wire-rimmed glasses. He wore a rumpled tweed suit that looked entirely out of place in a Mexican desert pursuit.
"You're bleeding, Mrs. Vance," the man said, not taking his eyes off the dark road. "There is a medical kit under your seat, Mr. Vance. Trauma dressing, combat gauze, and a coagulant powder. Apply it to her wound immediately."
I didn't ask questions. I found the kit, ripped open the coagulant, and poured it directly onto Mara’s grazing wound, wrapping it tight with the thick gauze. Her breathing was shallow, but her pulse was steady.
"Who are you?" I demanded, finally looking back at the driver.
"My name is Dr. Aris," the man said smoothly. "And until about four hours ago, I was the Chief Geneticist for the Vanguard."
"You're one of them?" I reached for the rifle Evie had given me, but it was sitting in the front seat.
"I was one of them," Aris corrected. "Until I realized what Arthur Sterling planned to do with your son. I have spent my life studying human evolution, Mr. Vance. But I draw the line at cannibalizing it."
May you like
"Cannibalizing?" The word made my stomach turn. I pulled the blanket tighter around my sleeping son.
"We're going to a safe house," Aris said, turning onto a paved highway and finally flicking on the headlights. "A place off the grid. Sterling’s men will be blind for hours thanks to the little pulse your boy just put out. But it won't last forever. The Vanguard will not stop until they have the Apex."
