Track of the Beast: A Brock Stone Adventure

A sharp pain burned the back of his calves. He felt it, but after so many days of beatings, his mind barely acknowledged it. It was a dull, distant thing. He threw a punch in the direction he thought the blow had come. He missed and received another whack across the legs for his trouble.

“Identify it.”

He drew the hair between his thumb and forefinger. It was thick, coarse. He held it up and sniffed it. He was surprised by its strong odor. Was it just his heightened senses or was there more to it than that? He took another whiff. He didn’t think it was a bear. The stench reminded him of a fox’s den, or maybe that of a skunk. He was stumped.

“It’s a wild animal, but not one I am familiar with.” He braced himself, expecting to be hit again. After a few seconds, Gideon spoke.

“You are correct.”

After that, there were no more lessons, only beatings.

Stone knew what was happening. They had taught him to see without his eyes. Now it was time to prove he had learned the lesson well enough.

The problem was, even with all his heightened senses, Gideon moved like a cloud of vapor. Only on rare occasions could Stone hear the soft pad of footsteps, or the gentle brush of fabric against flesh. On those occasions, he attacked with fury. One time, his knuckles grazed Gideon’s sleeve. He received a cup of coffee along with his meal that night.

He didn’t drink it.

He had a plan.

25- The Facility

Stone heard the sound of running feet. Instinctively he drew his Webley and aimed it toward the noise, but he held his fire. He couldn’t say for certain that it was Ward and not Trinity he would be targeting. A moment later he heard a heavy door slam shut.

“You let him get away,” Trinity’s voice came from the darkness only a few feet away. So it had been Ward running away.

“Did you really think we had no safety measures in place?” Ward called out.

“Keep him talking,” Stone whispered softy.

“What did you do?” Trinity added a tremor to her voice, feigning fear.

“The fob on my keyring has a panic button,” Ward said. The glee at having turned the tables on them rang brightly in his voice.

Stone crept silently toward the sound of Ward’s voice. He had caught only a glimpse of the room before the lights went out. To their left had been a doorway barred by a gate of thick iron bars. Directly ahead was a thick glass door, through which lay a laboratory. Off to the right had been another gated doorway. That was where the voice was coming from.

“What’s going to happen?” Trinity said.

“The two of you will be quite useful in our experiments. You are of a healthier stock than the women we have managed to acquire thus far, and Mister Stone is a fine physical specimen, if a bit slow on the uptake.”

Stone smirked. He was closing in on Ward. He just needed to avoid notice a bit longer.

“You will not use us like you used those poor people,” Trinity said.

“I don’t plan on giving you a choice,” Ward said with a touch of indifference.

Stone heard a hiss from somewhere up above, caught a whiff of mint. Cool mist drifted down from the ceiling. It was some kind of gas! There was no more time for stealth. He made a dash for Ward.

“If the knockout gas doesn’t subdue you, my soldiers will be here shortly.”

Stone reached the barred door just as Ward was pushing another button on his key fob. It emitted only the faintest flash of light, but in this utter darkness, it was enough for Stone.

Ward never saw him coming. Stone reached between the bars, grabbed Ward by the collar, and pulled him forward with all his might. Ward struck the bars with a smack. His body went limp and he slid to the floor. The key fob clattered to the ground.

“What’s happening?” Trinity shouted.

“Don’t breathe the gas. I’m looking for the key fob!”

He took out his IMCO lighter, a refillable metal lighter manufactured in Austria, and flicked it on. A faint circle of yellow light blossomed in the darkness. The mint smell grew stronger. He felt a detached sense of ease, like the effects of nitrous oxide. He needed to hurry.

He finally found the keyring and ran his fingers across the surface of the fob. There was only a single button.

He clicked it once. Nothing.

Two clicks in quick succession and the lights flickered on. The gas ceased to flow from the ceiling. Across the room, the barred door swung closed seconds before a cadre of beastly men came dashing down the corridor. The Illuminati soldiers. When they reached the barred door, they began to shout incoherently and shake the bars that held them back.

He pointed to the glass door that led to the laboratory and he and Trinity ran inside. Stone sucked in precious breaths of clean, pure air.

Inside, three women lay strapped to hospital beds. A burnt orange liquid dripped from an IV into the women’s arms. All three of them looked up in surprise. And off to the left, locked in a cage, a hairy creature huddled with its head between its knees and its large hands covering its head.

“Oh my God,” Trinity whispered, “they captured a juvenile Bigfoot.”