Jurassic Dead by David Sakmyster, Rick Chesler Page B

out—and possibly his father’s as well.
    Xander ducked his head into the wind and strode right past Alex’s hiding spot.
    Hood up, Alex followed at a safe distance, not concerned about the noise his boots were making on the slick metal stairs, as the biting wind drowned out everything but its own insistent howling. Xander made his way efficiently to his cabin, #412, but as he unlocked the door, he was met by the captain coming from the opposite direction. The big hulking figure, having lost his coat and braving the winds with just a turtleneck, seemed to have something urgent to impart to his newest passenger, and Alex, turning and blending back with the shadows, waited for an opportunity.
    He’d only get one shot, and as it was, this would be beyond crazy, but really, given the stakes, his father’s condition and everything Alex had done already that had all but ensured his fate, couldn’t get any worse, why not risk everything? A moment later, as Xander followed the captain a short distance away, where the big man pointed at aft over the railing and shouted something Alex could barely make out as related to the approaching storm, he moved swiftly. Ducking inside #412, Alex gave the quarters a quick glance-over: desk and laptop, cooling unit and flat screen TV, bed and closets…
    He had to move fast, hearing the clanging of a pair of returning footsteps, and chose the farthest set of closet doors. Nothing inside except hangars and a safe, Alex ducked in, closed the door and crouched low in the shadows, peeking through the louvers just as Xander stormed inside his cabin. The door closed behind him and Xander placed the black bag on his desk, and then tapped some keys on his laptop before he shrugged out of his coat and kicked it to the floor.
    I should have done the same, Alexander mused from his hiding spot. Still breathing heavy, he felt overheated in the warm cabin. Soon, he’d be sweating and having more trouble breathing. Xander better make this quick and get back outside—or take a leak so Alex could get those samples and get out.
    He realized it was better than nothing, but hopefully, he’d learn something first, and Xander didn’t disappoint. All business, he went to a cabinet, opened it up, and came back with a supply bag—and a case he must have brought along. Inside, Alex recognized the device—a centrifuge, and then a microscope came out.
    Okay boss, get to work.
    #
    Xander completed the first round of analysis, focusing on the slide with Marcus’s sample. Better to ascertain whether he had been infected with anything first, before checking out the T. rex blood. God only knew how he was going to figure anything out there, not being a paleo-biologist. If such a thing even existed. Hell, probably the only one who could really figure that out right now would be the guy whose blood was on the slide, and he was in no condition to help.
    Suddenly, a Skype window popped up, and DeKirk’s face leered back at him.
    Damn that connection, Xander thought, wishing the storm the captain warned him about was already here and blocking the satellite linkup.
    “Xander?”
    “Yes sir, no results yet. Give me a minute, please!”
    “We don’t have that luxury of time. I’m tracking that storm too, and I don’t want excuses—or blackouts. What have you got?”
    Xander shrugged and looked into the eyepiece after taking a drop from the centrifuge sample. “Well, as you said, I’m not equipped here with the facilities to properly analyze, but I should be able to…”
    He dropped off and his mouth hung open.
    “Xander?”
    He stared and stared, then pulled his eye away. Blinked and looked back to the screen and DeKirk. “We’ve got a serious problem.”
    #
    Alex heard all that and had to hold himself back. He wanted to burst out from his spot, tackle Xander and run for his dad, but he needed to listen. Xander was rambling non-stop, in a frightened voice, about some kind of cellular breakdown and simultaneous