Arms folded over her chest, Rachel gazed at the sky, frowning. "People here aren't presumptuous like that-they would have come to the house first to see what was going on. Anyway, with the way the wind's been shrieking, I doubt anyone's heard anything."

The sound of the chopper was growing louder. Joshua examined the cloud-strewn night sky, but didn't see the aircraft.

"Then what's going on?" he asked.

A realization lit up Rachel's eyes. She grabbed his arm. "Out back. The beach!"

They hurried inside the house and raced down the hallway to the kitchen, where a kerosene lantern glowed. Joshua started to open the patio door, but Rachel stayed his hand.

"Wait," she said. "Let's stay inside."

He didn't understand her request, but he was too weary to argue. They stood at the glass, and watched.

The helicopter wheeled into view above the beach, the rotor blades spinning up wraiths of sand and making the windows, walls, and floor vibrate. The craft was painted eggshell white. "Infinity Defense Systems" was emblazoned across the fuselage in blue, and there was a strange, blue and green symbol beside the text; circles within circles within circles, to suggest infinity, perhaps.

Silently, Rachel doused the kerosene lantern, to offer them greater concealment.

Outside, the copter's cabin door opened, and two masked men in black, military-style uniforms rappelled to the shore, dark cables swinging around them like jungle vines.

"What the hell is going on?" Joshua asked in a whisper.

The men had assault rifles strapped to their backs, and Joshua was thankful that he'd heeded Rachel's warning to remain indoors. These strange men-he was inclined to think of them as soldiers-had an air of cold, ruthless efficiency and purpose. He doubted they would have hesitated to dispatch of someone they regarded as a threat to their mysterious mission.

"Definitely not cops," Rachel said in a low voice.

Moving swiftly, the men unfurled a large black bag and used it to collect Dexter's smoking corpse. They hooked one of the cables to the end of the bag; the body bag was quickly sucked upward into the cabin. The men mounted their rappel cords and ascended into the aircraft. The helicopter rose into the sky and thumped away into the night, leaving behind only mounds of disturbed sand.

The entire operation had taken less than one minute.

Joshua and Rachel looked at each other. Neither of them spoke.

"I don't think we should call the police," he finally said.

The next morning, they returned home. Eddie had suffered a nasty, broken ankle and electrical shocks delivered from his own Taser, but he was healthy, and in good spirits.

Coco was fine-Eddie said the little dog had gone into hiding when Bates had arrived-and she squealed with delight when she saw Rachel. "Yes, Mommy's home," Rachel cooed to the dog, and she looked at Joshua when she said: "Mommy's never, ever leaving again."

A few days later, on the morning of Christmas Eve, Joshua sat in his refurnished home office, using his new laptop to surf the internet. He'd found a Web site for Infinity Defense Systems, the company name he'd seen on the helicopter.

Known by the acronym IDS, the organization was involved in top-secret molecular manufacturing studies, under the aegis of the United States military. The site included such high-level, sparse detail it was a wonder that they bothered to maintain a Web presence at all.

But he remembered what Dexter had told him.

You can't protect her from me. No one can. Not after what they've given me . . . the power I have . . .

IDS had done something to him, mostly likely during his incarceration. Secret weapons research, the nature of which was beyond Joshua's comprehension. It didn't excuse what he had done, didn't condone his violent, deranged actions, but it explained his unusual talent for stealth, and his extraordinary regenerative capabilities.

It also prompted Joshua to wonder: how many other individuals like Dexter Bates might be roaming the country, pumped full of experimental substances, and then set free to see what happened?

Perhaps he was getting carried away, allowing his vivid artist's imagination to create wild, speculative ideas.

But the thought chilled him.

He closed the Web site, and checked his watch. If he left the house now, he could hit the stores in time to finish his Christmas shopping. A far more pleasant activity than reflecting on the evil that men did to one another.

Chapter 66.

Two years later.

Joshua and Rachel strolled barefoot along a curve of pristine white sand, hand-in-hand. A summer sun smiled down on them, and a cool, salty breeze ruffled the comfortable white shirts and shorts that both of them wore. They were alone on the shore, the vast Atlantic Ocean on his right, stretching to a hazy horizon.

"Dad-dee."

Joshua looked into the eyes of their son, Justin. He was a beautiful, healthy boy with soft skin the color of nutmeg, Rachel's eyes and nose, Joshua's lips and cheekbones, and a full head of dark, curly hair.

"Hey, little man," Joshua said, and bounced him on his hip.

Walking beside them, Rachel looked at their child, then at Joshua, and smiled-an expression of pure joy, utterly free of worry and fear. Sunlight filigreed her curly, auburn hair, giving it the appearance of spun gold.

Joshua brought Rachel's hand to his lips and kissed her fingers.

"Let's go to the house," she said. She smiled, seductively. "Justin looks like he needs a nap."

The house was a short distance ahead, on the left. Justin tugged at Joshua's ear, drawing his attention. His son pointed excitedly at something in the distance: a ferry that bobbed on the waves like a child's bath toy.

A powerful sense of deja-vu gripped Joshua. Had this happened before? Or had he dreamed of it?

He couldn't remember, and the feeling soon passed. His son was still gesturing at the ferry, babbling.

"That's the ferry, little man," Joshua said. "You've been on the ferry before, remember?"

Justin only giggled, and tugged Joshua's ear again.

Rachel had walked ahead, and was waiting at the open patio door.

"All of a sudden, I had a feeling about something, Josh," she said. "A very strong, good feeling."

"Uh-oh, one of those." Chuckling, Joshua kissed Justin on the forehead. "Tell me more, sweetheart."

"We're going to have another baby."

"Really?"

"Yep. First, we've gotta go upstairs and handle some grown-folks' business, and then . . ." She was smiling.

He kissed her. "Now those are the kind of predictions I like."

The family went inside the house together.

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About Brandon Massey.

Brandon Massey was born June 9, 1973 and grew up in Zion, Illinois. He lives with his family near Atlanta, Georgia, where he is at work on his next thriller. Visit his web site at www.brandonmassey.com for the latest news on his upcoming books.

Also by Brandon Massey.

Thunderland.

Dark Corner.

Within the Shadows.

The Other Brother.

Vicious.

Don't Ever Tell.

Cornered.

Covenant.

Anthologies.

Dark Dreams.

Voices from the Other Side: Dark Dreams II.

Whispers in the Night: Dark Dreams III.

The Ancestors (with Tananarive Due and L.A. Banks).