As she checked to see if the weapon was loaded, another floorboard creaked. Mouth suddenly dry, she grasped the weapon and walked carefully to the door. The silence was so deep she could hear breathing — not hers, someone else's.
They were close. Maybe even right outside the bedroom door.
She set the gun to immobilize, and then clicked the safety off. The sound, though whisper soft, seemed to ricochet through the hush. In the hall, someone chuckled softly.
A chill ran down her spine. No one in their right mind would laugh like that. Not unless they were very, very sure of the outcome. With the gun clinging to her palm like a limpet, the barrel barely visible between her clenched fingers, she took a deep breath and stepped from the bedroom.
Chapter Seven
Gabriel strode down the pristine halls of SIU, trying to ignore the surprised looks that came his way. He felt like shit, and as Karl had already pointed out, he looked like it, too. But hell, did everyone have to look so damn amused once their initial shock had worn off?
His office door slid open long before he neared it, revealing Finley, who had several reams of paper clutched close to his chest.
"They told me you wanted to see me, sir."
He smiled grimly. What he'd actually said was that he'd like to wring the doctor's scrawny little neck for letting Ryan escape. And he had promptly been reminded that the woman was his responsibility, not Finley's. A truth he couldn't argue without explaining why he hadn't been here to mind her.
"I told you to watch her, Finley."
The young doctor pushed his glasses up his nose and stepped back, allowing Gabriel room to pass.
"I assigned two guards. I just didn't expect her to escape through the false ceiling."
No one did, least of all him. But he was beginning to think they should expect the unexpected when dealing with Samantha Ryan. He crossed to the small wash area and flicked on the tap. "How many tests did you manage to run?"
"Several." Finley peeled the printouts away from his chest and shuffled through the top layer. "We haven't yet been able to pin down that extra chromosome. Tests so far indicate it's something we haven't come across before."
He studied his reflection for a moment. Dried blood had matted his hair into a free-for-all of weird shapes, and a deep cut near his right cheek was beginning to swell his eye shut. Stephan was going to be really pleased to see the state he was in, especially after his request that Gabriel take a partner with him on missions.
He ducked his head under the cold water, rinsing the blood away, then grabbed a towel and returned his attention to Finley. "I thought we'd just finished cataloging all known species, human or not."
"That's the thing — known species. You can be pretty sure there's a heck of a lot of species out there that we haven't seen, let alone cataloged."
The kites were one of them, that was for sure. And they were one secret the Federation wouldn't be able to keep much longer. With the recent rise in kite attacks, the SIU would soon have to be notified and brought in.
"Are you trying to tell me Ryan's not human?" Given what he'd seen of her so far unnoted skills, he suspected this was a very real possibility.
Finley shook his head. "I'm just making a point. If there are nonhuman species out there we haven't yet seen, why shouldn't it be the same with humans? Especially in this day and age, when gene manipulation and cloning is a government funded research program?"
Even so, it was odd to find a human chromosome they couldn't categorize. Unless, of course, they were looking for something only partially human and long thought dead. "Finley, do you believe Shadow Walkers ever existed?"
The young doctor pushed back his glasses and pursed his lips. "To be honest," he said eventually, "no. My father once told me he worked with a man who could hide in shadows, but I always presumed he meant a vampire."
Finley's father had worked for the military. Covert operations, if he recalled correctly. "Did he ever mention Shadow Walkers?"
"No." Finley hesitated, his expression curious. "Why the sudden interest in a myth?"
"No reason." Maybe Karl was barking up the wrong tree, for once. "What about the microchip?"
Finley dug into the reams of paper and pulled out a small, flat container. "Found it under the armpit. Been there for some time, I'd say."
He walked to Finley and took the container, holding it up to the light. The microchip looked to be little more than a speck of dust. "What can you tell about it?"
"Well, it's one of the military's, though they stopped using this type some twenty years ago."
Sam would barely have been nine. Why would they insert something like this in the side of a child? "What did they use them for?"
"Tracking, usually. Every soldier has one, even today."