Lucas had slipped away from his parents while they were arguing about whether to lock the balcony door. He wandered near the edge of the infinity pool, where the water spilled over into a catchment basin with a soothing, endless sound.
He found Marcus Sterling there. The businessman was standing near the edge of the property, where a decorative hedge separated the resort from the beach. He was arguing on the satellite phone again, but this time, his voice was a hiss of panic.
"I put forty million into the Apex Project, Julian!" Marcus was screaming into the phone, presumably at Dr. Aris, though Aris was sitting in the restaurant. "I didn't pay for a 'neurological outbreak.' I paid for a cure for Alzheimer's that I could sell to every billionaire in Silicon Valley. I paid for immortality!"
Lucas froze behind a palm tree. The Apex Project.
"I don't care what it turned them into!" Marcus snarled, wiping sweat from his forehead. "I want to know how we get out of here. My jet is at the private strip twenty miles north. Can you get us past the checkpoints? I have cash. I have gold!"
There was a pause as Marcus listened to the response.
"What do you mean 'they're not letting anyone leave'?" Marcus's voice cracked. "I am Marcus Sterling! I own the shipping lanes! I own the docks!"
Lucas stepped back, stepping on a dry frond. It cracked.
Marcus spun around, his eyes wild. "Who's there? Get out of here!"
Lucas didn't run. He stood his ground. "Your jet," Lucas said calmly. "Is it fast?"
Marcus stared at the teenager, confused by the non-sequitur. "It's a Gulfstream. It does Mach 0.88. Why?"
"Just wondering," Lucas said. "Because I think the things chasing us are faster."
Lucas turned and walked back toward the lobby. Marcus stood there for a moment, the satellite phone beeping in his hand, before he realized the kid's words had sunk a hook of dread into his gut.