Track of the Beast: A Brock Stone Adventure

“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.