Spectacle (Menagerie #2)(99)
From the other direction, voices shouted. Another small squad of handlers rounded the corner of one of the buildings, guns drawn, and began firing. The beasts charged, a bizarre parade of hooves, wings and huge feet. The cacophony was deafening.
As I stared, huddled in the shadows, I heard a familiar voice shouting from the cluster of handlers and recognized Bowman’s profile, lit by a fixture mounted on the corner of the infirmary’s roof. He lifted his rifle and charged into the fray, firing at the manticore.
I clamped one hand over my own mouth to hold back a scream of warning when I saw a terrifying silhouette rise out of the darkness behind him. With a great grunt, the giant swung the tree he’d uprooted.
The tangle of limbs struck Bowman in the chest with a sickening crack of bone and the splintering of wood. His padded body flew into the side of the dormitory fifty feet away, then crumpled to the ground.
Crisp leaves rained all around, ripped free by the force of the blow. I ran for the infirmary entrance, desperate to both escape the slaughter and to avoid seeing any more of it.
The door closed behind me and I leaned against it in the darkened foyer, my eyes closed, panting from my sprint after weeks of inadequate exercise. Between the noise from outside and the pounding of my heart in my ears, I didn’t hear the approaching footsteps until they were almost upon me.
“Freeze, freak! Get down on the ground!”
I opened my eyes to find three handlers standing on the other end of the infirmary foyer, aiming automatic rifles at me in what light poured from the open manager’s office. The rest of the building was dark and quiet. Had Gallagher already evacuated it?
“Really?” I said, trying to slow my pulse. “Have you been outside? I’m the least of your problems right now.”
“On the floor, facedown!” the one on the left shouted. “Hands behind your back! We will shoot!”
I exhaled slowly, steeling my nerve. “The more time you waste with me, the less time you have to get away from what’s happening out there.”
From the courtyard, a man screamed, but the sound ended in a wet gurgle.
The handlers glanced at one another. Two of them were visibly sweating, and the third’s gun shook in his grip.
“You can shoot me and hope the sound doesn’t draw attention from the stampede of griffins, giants and manticores outside, or you can sneak quietly out the back door and live to see the—”
“Shoot her.” Tabitha stepped out of the office and stood behind the men aiming guns at me, backlit by light pouring through the open door. She wore a satin robe, but her feet were bare and her hair hung down to her shoulders.
“Tabitha? If you kill me, the baby will—”
“Shoot her.” Mrs. Vandekamp stepped into the light, and I saw that her face was red and streaked with tears. “Her lover killed my husband, and he will know the pain he’s caused.”
Vandekamp was dead. Joyful relief exploded deep inside me like a star at the end of its life, lighting me on fire from the inside out. I caught my breath on the tail of a sob.
“I found my husband in seven pieces, scattered around his office floor. But there wasn’t a single drop of blood. Your lover feasted on the blood he spilled—”
“I’m sure he didn’t feast...”
“—and I want to know if he’ll feed from yours, as well.” Her voice faltered beneath the weight of her grief. “Does he truly care about you, or will his brutish nature prevail?” She laid one hand on the shoulder of the handler closest to her. “Shoot her.”
The handler’s gaze was focused on the wall behind me, through which we could still hear the slaughter going on. “We don’t want to draw their attention until the system’s up and running again.”
“The system is destroyed,” Tabitha snapped. “All of Willem’s hard work—years and years of research and design—gone.”
“Destroyed?” The handler on the left frowned, and his aim began to falter. “Then how are we supposed to...?”
“I’ve called in the National Guard.” She pulled a handkerchief from a pocket of her robe and blotted at her eyes. “They’re going to set up a perimeter and bomb the entire compound.”
“Fuck!” the handler on the right whispered. “I’m outta here.”
“No!” Tabitha shouted, when all three lowered their aim and turned toward the rear of the building. “Shoot her first! Then you can take my car!”
They brushed past her without even a glance at me over their shoulders.
“Wait!” Tabitha chased after them.
I headed in the opposite direction, toward Claudio’s room, as fast as I could go in the dark hallway. The rooms were all empty; anyone who could walk had already fled, because even when they were locked, the infirmary doors could still be opened from the inside. But Claudio couldn’t move well under his own power.
His room was empty. Two cuffs still hung from the bedposts, and his sheet was on the floor. Pagano’s pale arm stuck out from under the bed.
“You did this.”
Startled, I turned to find Woodrow, the gamekeeper, standing in the doorway, blocking my way into the hall. He had a pistol aimed at my chest.
Deep in my belly, the furiae stirred. She wanted him. Lost in the trove of information I’d stolen from myself there must have been a memory of Woodrow doing something very, very bad.