“It’s gone. I finished it.”

“Don’t worry, Jack. I’m sure she’ll have made some more by the time we get there.”

SEVEN

Annamite Mountains, Vietnam

THE SMELL OF the jungle—moist earth and organic rot—hit Rook like a childhood nightmare, bringing back memories of fear, suffering, and the stuff of monsters made real. When the Chess Team last set foot in the mountainous region of Vietnam known as the Annamite Convergence Zone, where Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia’s borders merged, they had not only come face-to-face with the last remnants of mankind’s Neanderthal ancestors, but also their modern-day hybrid brood. Not to mention Vietnam’s now disbanded special forces unit known as the Death Volunteers.

Rook looked at Queen, whose black face paint covered the star-and-skull brand she’d received at the hands of the Death Volunteers. To her credit, she seemed unfazed by their return to the site of her torture. Of course, she was Queen. He expected nothing less.

They stood in darkness at the edge of the jungle, looking at the concave remains of Mount Meru cast in shades of green through their night vision goggles. Hidden inside the mountain had been the last city of the Neanderthal people; a masterpiece of ancient construction lit by the refracting light of giant crystals, it was the inspiration for the design of Ankgor Wat in Cambodia. But now the place was a ruin.

Every entrance had been crushed. Brush and saplings had already begun to reclaim the clearing that housed the hybrid workforce, where Rook and Queen had made a half-naked dash through the rain before facing off against a hybrid and two tigers. All that remained were shards of stone spear tips flattened into the earth.

The place was dead.

“No one has walked here, let alone lived here, since we left,” Queen said.

Rook knelt and pried a stone ax head from the earth. He felt its still sharp blade with his thumb. “Don’t forget that these guys almost inherited the earth,” he said. “Wouldn’t have hesitated to kill either of us.”

“I remember…”

“Then you might also remember that they didn’t always walk on the ground.” Rook motioned up with his head.

She looked up, following the trunk of the closest large tree, toward the night sky. The thick branches toward the top were marred with light-colored scratches. “They’re still here.”

“Not here,” Rook said, lifting the night vision goggles from his eyes and looking at Queen in the moonlight. She was dressed, head to toe, in black with her blond hair tucked up inside a black skullcap. She carried an UMP submachine gun. The woman was as deadly as she was beautiful, something Rook had to remind himself about every time his eyes trailed over the curves of her face, or body. “We’re looking in the wrong place. The hybrids lived here, with Weston, when he was the Father. And none of them actually lived inside Meru, not at the core at least. But now Weston is dead, and—”