Track of the Beast, page 13
“It looks like a big miner’s shack.”
“That’s what they want you to think,” Trinity said.
“What who wants me to think?” Stone asked.
“I’m not sure. Either John Kane or the Illuminati. Or maybe Kane is Illuminati. There’s no evidence of that, but their symbology keeps cropping up in my work, so I wouldn’t be surprised if there is a connection.”
“You say that so calmly.” Stone couldn’t help but admire Trinity’s courage. He only wished her bravery didn’t get her into so many dangerous situations.
“Why be afraid when I have a gentleman friend who insists on following me across the country because he thinks I need to be rescued?”
Stone didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Only Trinity could get herself caught between Bigfoot and an Illuminati outpost and still believe she did not need help. And perhaps she didn’t.
“Those rickety walls are a façade. There’s a building inside of it. A block building that has been painted black to camouflage it. I’ve seen a few men from the mining camp come and go, carrying in supplies. I’ve been watching this place for days. I’ve also heard pleas for help, cries of pain, some of them so unearthly I can scarcely believe a human made them.”
“Any idea what they’re up to?”
“No, but I’m convinced that it is connected with that strange room underneath the Martha Washington School.”
“Medical or biological, then,” Stone said, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “This has to be an inconvenient location to do that sort of thing.”
“Perhaps they want to keep it a secret.” Trinity’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
“There are plenty of isolated locations that are much more convenient to Kane’s headquarters in New York City. Why go to the opposite coast?”
“That is where the Bigfoot comes in. About ten years ago, Kane started conducting covert research into the Bigfoot. That would be unusual enough, but he was only interested in the mountains of Washington. That led me to his logging business, which has never turned a profit, and a series of unusually high donations to a girls school in Seattle.”
“It was the Martha Washington School that brought it all together, wasn’t it?” Stone asked. “Kane’s money, Ward’s connection with the lumber camp, and Junina, the girl from Rockmire who had a Bigfoot sighting so traumatic that it drove her half-mad.”
“Look at who just caught up!” Trinity patted him on the arm. “I want to get inside but there’s always a guard at the door. That’s where you come in.”
“Me?”
“Look me in the eye and tell me you can’t disable a single guard. That’s all they ever post. I don’t think they have ever had an uninvited visitor before me. There are only two ways in. One is through the Bigfoot canyon which Moss guards year-round. He doesn’t want anyone finding their lair.”
“Let me guess. The other way in is guarded by the lumber camp.”
Trinity smiled. “I love the way my intelligence has rubbed off on you over the years.”
Stone grinned. “I was away for many of those years.”
“You don’t need to remind me.” Trinity grabbed him by the collar and pulled his head down until their noses were almost touching. “Something very bad is going on inside there. We need to find out what. Do it for me. And that’s not a request; it’s an order.” She kissed him firmly on the lips.
“I’ll do it, but only because you are such a good kisser,” Stone said.
“Why, Brock Stone! What a thing to say!” Trinity said in a mock Southern drawl, fanning air across her face. “I think I might have the vapors.”
“I assume you insist on coming along?”
“It’s my investigation. You followed me here.” Any trace of levity was gone. “I have to see it with my own eyes. And we might have to take steps.”
24- Ward’s Story
As they approached the facility, Stone spotted wires running from the structure. His eyes followed them up the trunk of a tall pine. He caught a glimpse of a thick cable running up to a set of shiny discs up in the treetop.
“What are those?” Trinity said.
“I think they might be photovoltaic cells. “They collect power from the sun.” Stone said.
“I know the term, and the theory. I didn’t think the technology existed.”
“Neither did I. You can see it up close and personal once I’ve dealt with the guard.”
“Be careful,” Trinity whispered. She punctuated the statement with a kiss on his cheek.
“Always.”
Stone crept around the outer wall of the facility. Peering around the corner, he spotted the lone guard. He was an unnaturally large man. His overdeveloped biceps looked like bowling balls stuffed inside his shirt. He sat on a stump, gazing off into the forest. His eyes were barely open, and his posture was one of perfect ease.
Skilled as he was at moving without being seen or heard, Stone only managed to get within twenty feet of the guard before the man cocked his head, sniffed the air, then sprang to his feet.
Stone charged. The guard threw a clumsy punch that Stone ducked. He landed a sharp jab followed by a right cross that broke the big man’s nose. The guard threw a powerful left hook that would have caved in Stone’s skull had it landed, but this man had chosen to develop his muscles at the expense of quickness and flexibility. Stone dodged the punch and landed a hook of his own to the chin. The guard’s eyelids fluttered and his knees wobbled. A side kick to the gut drove the wind out of him and sent him tumbling into a patch of blackberry bushes.
Lips moving silently, eyes afire, the man struggled to get to his feet. His clothing was shredded, every inch of his exposed flesh sliced and scraped by the sharp thorns. He almost managed to get to his feet before Stone’s roundhouse kick turned his lights out.
He hastily bound and gagged the guard using the man’s own shoelaces and strips of fabric torn from his shredded shirt. He hid the unconscious man within the blackberry patch.
Stone turned to look for Trinity and spotted her opening the door of the facility.
“Wait for me!” he hissed.
She thrust out her lower lip, but waited for him to join her before opening the door.
Inside was a simple room with a concrete floor and block walls. A rickety table and two chairs stood in one corner. A newspaper and a coffee mug sat atop it. To the right, an open door revealed a bedroom with one set of bunks. Clothing lay scattered across the floor.
Farther down on the right was a closed door. Stone pressed his ear to it. A radio was playing a familiar tune—”Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea” by Cab Calloway. He heard the clatter of something being dropped on the floor, and then a curse. A moment later, the door began to open.
Stone reached for his Webley. And then he recognized the man on the other side of the door. It was Ward!
Stone grabbed the smaller man by his fleshy throat and forced him back inside the room. Trinity followed and closed the door behind them.
“What is this place?” Stone demanded. He lessened his grip on Ward’s throat just enough for the man to speak in a hoarse whisper.
“This is a military facility,” Ward gurgled. “You are trespassing on government property.”
Stone punched the man in the kidney just hard enough to make Ward’s knees buckle and his eyes water. “That is only a taste of the pain I can inflict on you. Don’t lie to me again.”
“If I were you, I would avoid upsetting him altogether.” Trinity spoke in a confidential tone, as if giving advice to a friend.
Ward nodded and took a moment to catch his breath. Finally, he rose on unsteady feet.
“This is a medical facility. We make men bigger and stronger.”
“Like that big galoot outside?” Trinity asked.
“He was one of our first patients. We have refined our process a great deal since then.”
“Are you making soldiers?” Trinity asked.
“Mercenaries,” Stone guessed. “A man like John Kane would sell to the highest bidder.”
“That’s the way the free market works,” Ward said. “But soldiers are only one potential avenue. Workers with tremendous strength and stamina are highly valuable. And if you make them just bright enough to do the job you need, but not quite intelligent enough to wish for more...” Ward flashed a twisted smile.
“That’s not much different from slavery,” Trinity said.
Ward had no reply.
“Why this location?” Stone asked.
Ward hesitated but a glare from Stone elicited an answer. “I suppose you could say it was chosen for us. It’s a long story.”
“Summarize it,” Stone said, cracking his knuckles for emphasis.
“Meriwether Lewis discovered this canyon. Jefferson had regaled him with stories of a lost white tribe, so he was shocked to find what appeared to be primitive humans living here. He was fascinated by them and he knew there were those in his party that would hunt the creatures for sport or worse. He also suspected the so-called Corps of Discovery, which made up the backbone of the expedition, was under the sway of the Illuminati.”
Stone nodded. The Corps of Discovery was a special unit of the United States Army which had been commissioned by Thomas Jefferson specifically for the Lewis and Clark expedition. The Corps’ objectives were to study the plant and animal life and geography of the West and assess its economic potential.
“Was Jefferson an Illuminatus?” Stone asked. Jefferson’s political opponents had accused him of not only being connected to the clandestine society, but claimed that he was the head of the American sect of the Illuminati. They had even claimed that, if elected President, he and his fellow intellectuals would strip Americans of their religious freedoms and property rights.
“Not as far as I know. At times, he was forced to be their creature, but he tried to confound them as often as he could. Some of the clues Lewis followed were taken from an artifact discovered in a secret Illuminate temple in Virginia that Jefferson’s men raided. A runestone, I believe.”
Stone nodded, remembering the temple he and Alex had discovered.
“What happened after Lewis discovered the canyon?” Trinity said.
“The Illuminati found the creatures on their own, so Lewis kept his silence. As it turned out, the Madoc story was a cover. They had fully expected to find some form of intelligent ape or primitive human living in the West, and planned to study and experiment upon them.”
“What sorts of experiments?” Trinity asked.
“Blood transfusions, organ transplants, dissections, cross-breeding with the local native population.” Ward listed them with the casual indifference of a husband reading his shopping list aloud to the store clerk. “A group of Illuminati remained behind to conduct their experiments, and their names were expunged from the historical record.
“The experiments went nowhere and most of the men abandoned the project after a decade or so. But one man remained behind, a German immigrant named Gebhardt. He had married two native women and sired several children.”
“Two women?” Trinity scowled. She seemed more offended by that detail than the list of horrible experiments.
“Gebhardt brought his family in on the experiments and the work was passed down through the generations, the family becoming more secretive until only legend remained. That legend made its way to Mister Kane. We discovered the facility. One man was living here alone, trying to continue his family’s work, but he lacked the resources to do it well. The research conducted here was primitive, but we gained valuable insights which accelerated our timeline.”
“What happened to the man? Did you kill him?” Trinity asked.
“Hardly.” Ward laughed. “Last I heard, he is living in Germany with a lovely young wife.”
“So, you’ve resurrected all of the old Illuminati experiments?” Stone asked.
“After a fashion.” Ward blanched, hurried on. “But it is more humane. There is no more dissection.”
“Are you Illuminati?” Stone asked.
Ward made a small bob of the head.
“How about John Kane?” Trinity said.
Ward barked a laugh. “I am not important enough to have ever met John Kane, much less know his personal affiliations.”
“Who is the Worshipful Master?” Stone said quickly, trying to catch the man off guard. He succeeded.
Ward flinched, hesitated. “I don’t know.” He immediately held up his hands. “I’m telling the truth. He is so far above me in the order I will never know who he is. All I can tell you is John Kane is the butter and egg man, all the money comes from him, but the Worshipful Master calls the shots.”
Stone had a suspicion the two were one and the same.
“Did you abduct local women for your experiments?” Trinity demanded.
“The lumber camp acquires patients. I don’t ask about that. I am mostly a bookkeeper,” Ward said.
“A man was found beaten to death,” Trinity said. “Did your people do that or was it the Bigfoot?”
“I heard about that. He got drunk and wandered into the wrong area. Davis and his men dealt with them.”
“Were they responsible for causing the avalanche that nearly killed us?’ Stone asked.
“Probably. They have a man who goes around disguised as a Bigfoot and tries to discourage people from going places they shouldn’t.” Ward didn’t quite meet Stone’s eye.
“Show us the lab.” Stone’s words were calm, but inside he was raging.
Ward’s face went white as snow. He swayed, gulped, and cleared his throat. “No. I would be signing my own death warrant.”
Stone calmly laid his hand on Ward’s shoulder. With a sudden movement, he covered Ward’s mouth with his other hand, simultaneously digging the tips of his index and middle fingers into the man’s trapezius muscle in a spot near the spine. He gave a twist and Ward’s eyes bulged and he screamed into Stone’s hand. After a count of ten, Stone released the pressure, and Ward’s body sagged.
“I don’t know how they would kill you,” Stone whispered into the man’s ear, “but I can promise I will kill you slowly and painfully.”
Ward’s moment of resolve crumbled. He led them into the main area and up to an old, overstuffed armchair. He tipped it onto its side and the floor underneath it swung up along with it. Down below, a ladder descended to a lower level. From somewhere down below came a low, mournful wail. A woman called out for someone to help her, but her voice was weak and without hope.
“We have to get down there,” Trinity said.
“You go first. Then Ward. We’ll both be keeping an eye on you,” he said to the man.
The shaft they descended was made of hand-cut stone, fitted together with precision. The short hallway they found themselves in was constructed similarly. Bare light bulbs hung from a thick wife, giving off a weak glow.
“The Gebhardt family built this place. They maintained and improved it over the years. We built the space above and expanded on the laboratory beyond this next door.
They watched carefully as Ward removed a key ring from his belt, selected a key, and unlocked the door. He opened it, stepped inside, and beckoned for them to follow.
Stone stepped inside with Trinity hot on his heels. He knew immediately that he had made a mistake. The door slammed shut behind them and everything went black.
Interlude 7
May, 1927
Five Years Ago
In the ensuing days, Stone’s life fell into a pattern. Gideon alternated between attacking, feeding, and instructing him. All of it took place in the darkness. He quickly began to notice changes in himself.
His sense of hearing had been honed to a fine edge. Now, he could hear a single grain of sand fall to the floor. His sense of taste was now refined to the point where he could quickly distinguish which among several buckets of water had a single grain of salt added to it. He sharpened his sense of smell by making him identify ever-fainter scents from increasingly greater distances and enhanced his sense of learning to identify words carved in grains of rice.
He used the latter improved skill to explore his cell. He discovered that the floor was riddled with what felt like trapdoors. That was how Gideon came and went so easily. He took to waiting beside them, hoping to catch Gideon entering, but he always chose the wrong one.
There were also conversations, and not always with Gideon. There were three others—two men, and a woman. Stone eventually could identify them before they spoke, and he named them according to their most identifiable trait: Heavy Walker, Lip Smacker, and Curry Woman.
They engaged Stone in a wide range of discussions, but all the while they were picking him apart, forcing him to reveal his deepest fears, regrets, and shame. He knew exactly what they were doing, but he was desperate for human interaction, so he opened up in ways he never had before.
Stone was surprised to find the conversations brought him a measure of relief from the heavy burden of guilt he carried. He had never been much of a talker, which had created problems in his personal life. His old girlfriend, Trinity, had called him a ‘nut she was determined to crack’. Thinking of her brought back painful memories. Stone had cut her, and all the people he loved, out of his life for their own good.
On one occasion, Curry Woman asks him a rare direct question.
“What finally convinced you to leave the service? Was there a single tipping point?”
Stone took his time before answering. He scratched his chin, reflected on painful memories.
“The decision had been coming for some time. But on my last mission, I came to strongly suspect my commanding officer was working on behalf of the Nazis through a group called the Illuminati. I realized I couldn’t know if my marching orders were coming from Washington or Berlin.”
There was a long silence before Curry Woman replied.
“Men and institutions are easily corrupted, but values are worth fighting for.”
