by Greg Ballan
He moved quickly through the treetops, covering two miles in less than ten minutes. The trees in this area were not nearly as large, and it was more difficult to navigate them. He leapt from his perch in a smaller evergreen and touched down on the forest floor. He moved through the dense forest, leaping over saplings and briar patches as he moved closer to the position.
He picked up the scent. It was faint at first, but his senses amplified it to a powerful, overwhelming stench. It was a scent he had smelled before, in the jungles of Columbia and Peru, as well as the desert of Iraq. It was the scent of death and blood, the scent of butchered bodies and mangled flesh.
Erik freed the staff from its pouch, it responded to its owner by emitting an eerie whine as it elongated to a length of almost seven feet. He closed cautiously, expecting the worst. He then saw, at a distance, the gruesome carnage that was the result of the Seelak attack: Ten soldiers literally ripped apart. The ground was covered with blood and entrails from the soldiers. Black flies and maggots were feasting on the corpses whose limbs had been torn from sockets and tossed randomly about the scene of death. Erik could smell the traces of sulfur from gunpowder, and spent brass casings littering the ground.
As he continued to move through the area, he spotted the telltale bright glowing blue fluid from the creatures that had nearly killed him. He probed the fetid stuff with a metallic fingertip. He lifted the substance to his nose and took a quick sniff. The blood scent imprinted itself on him now. His heightened sense of smell filtered out all other pheromone substances and locked on this particular spoor. He would track this creature like a bloodhound, after he got his daughter. It was obvious the creatures were out hunting the scouting parties.
Erik knew this would make his job of retrieving his daughter that much easier. He would not have to contend with the creatures during his rescue attempt. He only hoped that the remaining soldiers in the woods would not meet the fate of their fallen comrades.
He looked further to the West, up the sloping woodlands, and continued his long journey.
* * *
Major Ross had received visual confirmation from Eyes Two: D Company had been massacred. The tally so far was up to twenty soldiers, and still the creatures were at large.
The distance between the two groups of men was quite sizeable. Ross estimated that the creatures had to be moving at least thirty kilometers per hour to attack both groups within the time span the reports had come in. He had no idea how any creatures could move that fast in such dense terrain. His soldiers could barely walk through the denser portions of the woodlands and had to frequently cut pathways for themselves. He knew higher up the thickets would clear out, but his men had to get into the upper elevations without being massacred like sitting ducks. One of the larger groups was now navigating an abandoned logging road that led in the general direction of their search.
"I want voice contact with these groups every five minutes," the major demanded. "Can our choppers provide any air cover for those men?" he asked his subordinate.
"Negative, sir. The foliage canopy is too thick. We'd have sporadic visuals, even by the old logging road. That's why we can't use them for overhead recon either."
"Damn!" The major studied the groups on the map and adjusted the location pins to account for the new groupings. "We're getting massacred."
* * *
Corporal Novacs felt slightly better after joining up with the other patrol. They were now twenty strong, and moving along a relatively unobstructed log road. They were moving at a slow pace, several eyes and muzzles peering into the treetops, while others scanned the perimeter all around them.
Novacs didn't like this scenario. It went against all his battlefield experience. When the enemy has the knowledge of the terrain, ford up and take cover. Make them come to you. Novacs was a patient man. He knew these things would eventually seek them out, as it did the other two parties. Moving in the open, exposed as they were, was not very battle-savvy, but necessary when looking for a missing person. He felt naked and vulnerable.
Novacs glanced over his shoulder at Sparks. The young soldier was visibly sweating. "Easy, Bro'." Novacs whispered to his friend. "We'll get outta here if we can just keep our heads together."
Sparks grinned sheepishly, embarrassed that his discomfort was that visible. "I'm cool, man. Just keepin' mah eyes peeled for any unwelcome visitors," he answered in his heavy Southern drawl.
The woods around them echoed with the sound of wood crackling and splintering. The group looked about wildly before realizing that a large evergreen was falling directly toward them.
"Scatter," Novacs screamed as he saw the large tree plummeting earthward toward their position.
In his haste, Novacs lost his footing and fell face-first into the ground. As he spun around, he saw the main body of the tree as it fell upon him and several other men who were not quick enough to avoid it. Novacs shrieked with pain as a branch shattered his leg and pinned him beneath its awesome weight.
In the distance, he heard a shriek. He knew it was Sparks. Then, he heard a growl, a growl that made him forget his pain and replace it with abject terror. A pair of eyes peeked in through the boughs and branches to where he was. He heard the sniffing that the great cat-like beast made as it pawed the tree limbs, trying to get at him.
There was gunfire and darkness. He heard more screams and the sickening sound of bones being broken. He held on to his rifle, keeping the muzzle pointed outward, ready to fire upon any threat.
The darkness was like a thick veil of black. It was nearly impossible to see anything. There was an occasional muzzle flash that lit up the darkness followed by a bright line of tracers, then more darkness and mayhem. One of the soldiers, who had taken cover behind a large outcropping, managed to ignite a flare. He tossed it into the darkness and illuminated the hellish scene. Over half of the soldiers were dead, and three others were pinned under the large tree, but now their attackers were visible. Four M-16s fired in unison, scoring several hits upon their adversaries. The creatures hissed and shrieked with rage as bullets impacted against their bodies. The large cat rushed one of the soldiers, who continued firing up to the moment that the great creature swatted him down with one of its massive paws.
From his position under the tree, Novacs listened intently, as each separate sound of gunfire was eliminated with the death scream of a member of their party. Finally, there was only one left standing. Novacs heard the clicking of the M-16's trigger, but that was all. The poor soul had no more ammunition. He shuddered as he heard the soldier's cries of pain and torture. The creatures were playing with him, slowly torturing the man as if to satisfy some demented, masochistic need for inflicting pain and suffering. He heard the soldier gurgling, as blood slowly filled his lungs
Please, please no more. Just end it.
Novacs heard a sickening crunch of bone then the telltale thud of a body hitting the ground. Their party had been wiped out in a matter of minutes. Twenty men, armed with state-of-the-art rifles, had been literally decimated. How could they live through all that fire? Something in his gut told him he would be next.
He heard the creatures moving throughout the tree fall, dispatching his trapped comrades. He prayed they would forget about him, and move on to something, or someone, else. He heard a strange sound, and looked up. He saw blood-red eyes looking back at him from a tree limb, and saw an inky black claw reaching for his throat. Novacs reached inside his vest and pulled out a high-yield grenade. He pulled the pin and heaved the explosive in the general direction where the creature was. The thing retreated as the grenade hit the ground. The forest echoed the thundering concussion as the grenade exploded. There was silence, and then Novacs exhaled the breath he had been holding. Everything in the forest was quiet. The soldier silently rejoiced. Either he killed the creature or scared it off.
Something else was coming toward him, it was inky black and serpent-like. He tried to avoid it, but it coiled around him like a python, squeezing him and pull
ing on him. Novacs' leg burned like fire from the pain, and he screamed with agony. He felt his shoulder crack as the serpent continued to pull on him. Suddenly, with a sickening snap, Novacs was ripped from under the tree, his leg severed at the knee joint. The feline creature released him from the grip of its tail.
Novacs was rolling along the ground, his mind reeling from the utter agony of his injury. Dimly, he felt the icy cold grip around his neck. He forced himself to look into the fiery eyes of his captor – eyes that seemed devoid of any compassion or sense of mercy, eyes that seemed all too twisted and cruel. He felt the creature's icy grip increase around his throat. Novacs gathered up the last of his strength and spat into the face of the monstrosity that would surely kill him.
"Go back to Hell," he said as the creature ended his life with the simple squeezing of its claw.
The Seelak tossed Novacs' corpse and stomped it under its feet for several seconds, shattering the corpse into bloody hamburger. Satisfied it was no longer a threat, both creatures left the carnage behind and faded into the woods.
Off in the distance, a cardinal was singing, oblivious to the twenty mutilated bodies several feet below its perch.
* * *
Erik paused. He heard gunfire. He was able to isolate the number of different sounds even from this great distance.
It was at this point that he heard the explosion and the distant growl of the Seelak. Even at this distance, his hearing enhanced the sounds of the battle. He was torn inside: Part of him wanted to seek them out, hunt them down, and kill them; while his human half wanted only to free his daughter, take her from the hell she was in, and protect her. He knew he would do both, but doing so would cost more soldiers their lives.
Erik moved further up the mountainside, further than he had ever been before in his travels. This part of Hopedale Mountain rarely, if ever, had human visitors. It was the perfect place for the Espers' ship to crash land, as far away from anything as possible.
He leapt back up into a nearby tree, then catapulted ten meters to another tree limb. He moved further and further into the elevations until, at last after endless minutes, he arrived at his goal. He landed outside the campsite and slowly made his way through the vacated area.
He paused as he looked over the small tent city. "What in the hell was going on up here?" he asked himself as he slowly approached the encampment.
This was conservation land. There should be no signs of human activity anywhere for miles. He was amazed to see the various crates and packaging for large equipment, and what appeared to be a makeshift helipad. Something very big was happening here, something that shouldn't be happening at all.
He activated his staff, expecting his rivals to appear at any moment to challenge him and warn him off their territory. Like a silver ghost, he moved soundlessly through the groups of tents and equipment. He paused at one particular table. Insects were busy feasting on the remains of someone's dinner. Half empty coffee cups were scattered throughout the area, as well as a variety of assorted gear. He entered a large tent and carefully studied the radio equipment that was still activated, as if waiting for someone to use it. He carefully studied other objects and personal paraphernalia that littered the tent. It was at that moment when his eyes spotted the large coffee mug. He picked it up in his metallic hand, studying it carefully and noting the Pendelcorp logo proudly emblazoned upon the mug's face.
Rage shot through Erik's mind as he crushed the mug into powder. Richard, you son of a bitch, you're at the root of all of this. Bits of the coffee mug fell from his now clenched fist. Erik picked up a large note pad and studied the contents. They appeared to be some sort of mineral and geological reports. Again, he noted the Pendelcorp logo proudly emblazoned upon each page. He took the book and tucked it into his satchel.
He quietly stepped out of the tent and began to check other areas of the large campsite. He found several crates with the Pendelcorp logo scattered haphazardly throughout the grounds and followed the trail of open crates for several yards. This led to a well-used footpath.
As soon as Erik stepped onto the footpath, his senses lit up. He could feel his daughter and the other children. He put his hand to the ground and listened with his Esper abilities as the earth told him in what direction his daughter was being held. Erik followed the path quickly and came to a massive opening that tunneled into the mountain. The smell of the felinoid and the Seelak warrior was overpowering, but he could also make out the distinct fragrance of his own flesh and blood, his daughter. He caught the scattered scent of other children, though one of the scents was not as strong as the others. There were also faint odors from several other spoors, but they were even slighter.
He stepped into the darkness, his eyes adjusting to the absence of light, seeming to shift to a different spectrum, allowing him to see near daylight quality. He moved quickly, deeper into the tunnel. Erik paused and touched the walls of the tunnel. He could tell by the texture that this tunnel had been dug by man-made equipment and was not a natural occurrence.
Erik had covered almost 400 feet when he began to catch a hint of death. The smell grew more and more pronounced as he moved deeper into the tunnel. The fetid stench of individual corpses assailed his senses as he came to the tunnel's end. He spotted five bodies, mutilated, and some sort of mining equipment.
As he studied the chamber opening, he had a vision of Jakor and the other Espers leading those creatures and their captives into the giant eternal prison. Then, another flashback of the explosion that buried this chamber. He studied the melted slag of metal that was once the alloy door sealed eons ago, keeping the captives permanently entombed. He looked back at the huge piece of equipment and assumed it was some type of beam used for drilling.
Erik peered into the opening, but found his way blocked by some sort of stone obstacle placed in front of the chamber entrance. Erik focused his senses, felt into the chamber, and heard the sound of faint breathing. He focused harder, and was able to discern heartbeats. There were five distinct signatures, though one was very shallow. He placed both his hands against the obstruction and pushed. Slowly, the stone barrier gave way against his strength. After he had pushed the obstruction about a foot, the sounds and the presence of the children were clearer. He heard gasps of fright and panic. The children had assumed that their tormentors had returned. He opened his mouth and shouted his daughter's name, yet no intelligible sound came out. Frustrated, he tried again. His throat was unable to create the words that his mind wanted to speak. Then he knew, he was now an Esper, think the words.
Brianna! his mind screamed. Brianna! His mind cried in anguish, longing to hear the voice that would tell him he was not too late.
"Daddy?" an unsure silent voice whispered in the darkness, as if addressing a dream.
I'm here, Baby. I've come for you. Daddy's here!
The feeling of joy was so powerful that it almost drove him to tears. Without thinking, he drew his fist back and smashed a blow into the obstruction that blocked his path. His hand smashed through the barrier, placing a gaping hole through the solid structure. He struck again and again, roaring in rage while pummeling the thick stone, reducing it to rubble. Erik held up his metallic hands to his face and looked at them, bewildered. There were no cuts, not even a scratch upon his silver flesh. He walked into the chambers, closing in on the source of his daughter's voice.
As he got closer, he heard the children shriek in unison. Erik spun, bringing his staff to the ready, preparing to strike out with the force of a hundred suns at the creatures that took his child.
"Daddy," Brianna screamed. "Something's here, something big with huge blue eyes."
Erik's heart sunk, his daughter had seen his eyes. To her, he was one of them. Honey, you must listen to me. He's here to help you. He will not hurt you. Don't be afraid. Let him approach you, he will not hurt you! Do you believe me?
"Okay," she whispered hesitantly.
Erik slowly approached the children. He felt their fear, heard th
eir racing heartbeats as he came closer. Finally, he saw his daughter, clearly standing there in the darkness with the three other children. She looked up into his fiery blue eyes, struggling to control her fear.
Don't be afraid.
Her eyes bulged as she looked up at him, his luminous eyes reflecting beams of blue light off his silver skin. She reached out and he gently took her small hand in his metallic one. He felt her warmth, and then her acceptance.
"Daddy, what happened to your eyes?" she asked innocently. "Your skin, it looks and feels like metal. What happened to you?"
Later, he replied. There is another child here, Bri. I'm going to get her. Don't move, I'll be right back.
Erik carefully moved through the darkness, utilizing his enhanced senses like a bloodhound, he was able to track the other faint heartbeat. He approached the tiny body and picked the child up gently. Lisa Reynolds was alive, barely, but alive. He noted the bowl of water next to her and some dried foodstuffs from the camp. He studied the ground around her carefully. It was littered with her waste and vomit, and the child's clothes stank of it.
Erik then kicked the bowl and food away angrily. They had used her to feed upon, to gather strength. Erik shuddered at the thought. He remembered that the creatures fed upon fear, which was how they were designed, to feed upon the fear of the common Esper. But the Espers were gone now, and nothing was as palpable as the fear of a young child, afraid of monsters dwelling in the dark. Somehow, they figured that out and were using the fear of children to feed themselves. That's why they took his daughter and the others, as food. Erik headed back to his daughter, she too had been covered with the scent of her own body excrement, and he vowed to make these things pay dearly for what they had done to his child and the other children.
