Triple Threat - James Patterson Page 0,65

if response pathways are lacking.”

“Fine,” Sarah concedes. “But the more pressing question is, how do we stop it? And reverse it in the people already affected? How in the world do we regrow human brains?”

“Easy,” I reply. “Stem cells. They’re like cellular free spaces. With the potential to grow into any kind of cells in the human body—including brain tissue, as long as we program them right. Toss in a high-octane antihistamine to block pheromone absorption, and we’ll be in business!”

Chloe and Sarah consider my suggestion, both clearly intrigued by it.

“We all know stem cell therapy is still a new field,” I continue. “The idea I’m proposing is radical. It’s hard. But—”

“You’re wrong, Oz,” Sarah replies. “It’s simple. It’s elegant. It’s…genius.”

Chloe chuckles good-naturedly. “Careful now, Sarah,” she says. “My husband’s head is full of great ideas. But we don’t want it to get so big it explodes.”

We continue driving down this long, deserted stretch of I-15. Dirt and shrubs are all around us, as far as the eye can see. A highway sign says we’re only about seventy miles out from our destination: Las Vegas. An old friend of Sarah’s from grad school is an adjunct professor of biochemistry at the University of Nevada. With his expertise—not to mention the use of his lab space and equipment—we just might be able to pull off my “genius” idea. Emphasis on might.

“Of course, the real challenge,” Sarah says, “is going to be finding some feral human test subjects. If history is any guide, that won’t be—”

“Oz, look out!” Chloe shouts.

Before I have time to react, a pack of rabid coyotes lying in wait along the highway shoulder leap up to the road—easily a dozen or more, all yipping madly—and onto the Jeep.

I swerve wildly—to try to shake them off, since none of us has a weapon, and because I can’t see a damn thing.

The animals scratch at the windshield like fiends. They snap their razor-sharp fangs at the shut windows. The smart little bastards even claw at the tires to try to pop them and slow us down.

Trying to kill us.

Eli is crying. Sarah is screaming. Chloe is just hanging on for dear life.

Me, I keep jerking the wheel side to side, accelerating fast and then braking sharply, trying desperately to shake them off.

And it seems to be working. One by one the coyotes lose their grip and tumble off onto the hot asphalt. So I keep it up.

Until I mess it up.

There’s a highway sign I don’t see until it’s too late.

I sideswipe it. Direct hit. The passenger window next to Sarah shatters.

The Jeep goes spinning wildly out of control.

Most of the coyotes are thrown off, but once our car comes to a helpless stop, they regroup and charge at us. I stomp the pedal, but it’s too late.

At the broken window, I see two coyotes approach to leap in…

But instead of piling inside, they begin howling.

They jump away from the car just as fast and scurry away. Within seconds, the entire pack has disappeared into the desert.

Jesus, another close call! All that talk about rabid humans, it’s easy to forget there are still animals out there who want us dead just as much.

Slowly Chloe, Sarah, and I all catch our breath. We’re relieved. We’re safe.

But then, we begin to trade nervous glances.

Sarah is turning pale with shock. We’re all having the same chilling thought.

The reason the coyotes ran away the second before they jumped through Sarah’s window…

Is because she must be on the verge of going feral.

Chapter 36

Up until now, the stakes of the feral human crisis had been huge but impersonal.

I knew thousands of people around the world had been affected, but I didn’t know any of them. Helen and Reiji were total strangers to me. I’d only met Tanaka a day before our fateful flight over the Pacific.

But now, with Sarah about to join their ranks, this damn plague has come to my doorstep. She’s a colleague. A friend. A good person who saved Chloe and Eli’s lives at the Idaho lab. A good scientist whose help we need to discover a cure.

“But she could kill us, all of us!” Chloe anxiously whispered to me the first night we spent inside the UNLV lab. “If she changes before we discover the antidote—”

“Incentive for us to discover it even faster,” I replied. “And on the bright side, now we have a rabid human guinea pig to test it on.”

I tried to downplay my wife’s fears, but of course I