Frankenstein: The Complete 5-Book Collection. Dean Koontz

hound-dog face were as they had been a day ago, and the jowls and dewlaps, all familiar. But this was not Jack.

      “He had us,” Jack agreed.

      As Michael reached cross-body, under his coat, to put his right hand on the grip of the pistol in his shoulder holster, Carson took a step backward, and another, toward the door.

      The medical examiner and his assistant did not approach, merely watched in silence.

      Carson expected to find the door locked. It opened.

      Past the threshold, in the hall, no one blocked their way.

      She retreated from Autopsy Room Number 2. Michael followed her.

       CHAPTER 8

      ERIKA HELIOS, less than one day from the creation tank, found the world to be a wondrous place.

      Nasty, too. Thanks to her exceptional physiology, the lingering pain from Victor’s punishing blows sluiced out of her in a long hot shower, though her shame did not so easily wash away.

      Everything amazed her, and much of it delighted – like water. From the shower head it fell in glimmering streams, twinkling with reflections of the overhead lights. Liquid jewels.

      She liked the way it purled across the golden-marble floor to the drain. Pellucid yet visible.

      Erika relished the subtle aroma of water, too, the crispness. She breathed deeply of the scented soap, steamy clouds of soothing fragrance. And after the soap, the smell of her clean skin was most pleasing.

      Educated by direct-to-brain data downloading, she had awakened with full knowledge of the world. But facts were not experience. All the billions of bits of data streamed into her brain had painted a ghost world in comparison to the depth and brilliance of the real thing. All she had learned in the tank was but a single note plucked from a guitar, at most a chord, while the true world was a symphony of astonishing complexity and beauty.

      The only thing thus far that had struck her as ugly was Victor’s body.

      Born of man and woman, heir to the ills of mortal flesh, he’d taken extraordinary measures over the years to extend his life and to maintain his vigor. His body was puckered and welted by scars, crusted with gnarled excrescences.

      Her revulsion was ungrateful and ungracious, and she was ashamed of it. Victor had given her life, and all that he asked in return was love, or something like it.

      Although she had hidden her disgust, he must have sensed it, for he had been angry with her throughout the sex. He’d struck her often, called her unflattering names, and in general had been rough with her.