Descent: Into the Darkness (Forgotten Origins Trilogy)

by Tara Ellis

  “This isn’t going to be easy,” Zane continues once we all have a sheet. “This will essentially be a crash-course boot camp. The idea of planning something months into the future at this point is a lot of wishful thinking and could change in a heartbeat. But before I can put you out in the field in any sort of combat situation, you have to have basic training. I won’t risk your lives or the lives of my men. If you don’t cut it, we’ll find something else for you to do. Let’s be clear on that up front.”

  I turn to Missy, who’s seated to my left, and gently grip her arm under the table, out of sight from anyone else. It’s not that I don’t think she’s capable, but I could never picture my petite, fun-loving friend as a soldier. My concern is erased when I see excitement and fire in her eyes instead of fear.

  “I may not be super strong or fast like you, Alex, but I’m ready to kick some alien butt,” Missy reassures me. Chuckling, I really want to hug her, but I don’t want to give the soldiers the impression I’m not taking things seriously.

  “This last batch of meds was brought over on a motorcycle they were able to get working,” Zane states, apparently moving on to the next topic. “Turns out those docs at the lab are also great mechanics. We’re looking through the base now for similar bikes, and the needed components to get our own up and running. But assuming we’re successful, this will enable us to get around faster than with the horses. Except of course, we’re still limited to how much gas can be carried.

  “Both RA and the Mudameere base have been silent,” he continues, moving onto the next point of concern. “North Dakota last saw the Nephilim ship three days ago, and there’s been no sign of it since. We expect to make contact with Canada, and hopefully Europe, in the next week, to begin collaborating with them.”

  “Don’t expect RA to be calling a press conference anytime soon,” Seth interrupts, and Benuk nods in agreement. As Seth and Benuk get into a long conversation with Zane about the whole social aspect of the Nephilim, my attention starts to wane and I realize how hungry I am.

  I notice a small table at the far end of the room, and discover it’s the source of the water Jim has been sipping. There’s also a plate of muffins. Muffins? How in the world do they have big, fresh, blueberry muffins with the nice little crinkled paper holders? I haven’t seen real, baked food like that in what feels like a very, very long time. I think I can smell them. My mouth is actually watering now, and I don’t even know what’s being said anymore. I would really like to go over and get one, but I don’t want to be rude.

  Before I can finish the internal debate between my desire and my manners, Chris suddenly scoots his chair away from the table. Without a word, he abruptly stands and walks across the room to the snack table. Taking the same muffin I was ogling, he then returns to his seat, places the muffin in front of me, and goes back to taking notes on the back of his schedule.

  The senator, who paused with his hand over the map on the table, shrugs his shoulders and continues his dialogue with Seth. Everyone follows his lead and ignores the somewhat odd behavior, but I don’t join in. Instead, I sit looking at the amazing blueberry muffin, which now seems to mock me. My appetite is gone.

  THIRTEEN

  “That’s pretty amazing.” Turning to the instructor standing behind me, I find that I’ve drawn quite a crowd. We’re on the outdoor range since the indoor one is too dark for everyone else, even with several solar lights. Aside from the sweltering heat, I don’t mind. It just means more legwork to change out our targets.

  “Thank you, sir,” I respond, trying to remember the proper etiquette for addressing someone with a higher rank. “My father taught me how to shoot at a young age, although I don’t think anyone could take credit for my ‘talent’ now.” There are some mumbled remarks from the group that has gathered and I feel myself blushing.

  “At ease!” the instructor snaps. The crowd falls silent as he speaks to me. “I really don’t care if your skills come from training, God, or an alien virus. I’m just glad to have you on our side.” With that, he moves on to stand behind Chris, who’s positioned at the station next to me, and I breathe a sigh of relief as everyone follows him. I don’t like the attention.

  I’m happy to be out in the open, although it means displaying some of my other abilities that make me even more of an oddity. The sweet smell of sage on the warm breeze is invigorating as it mixes in with the dry grass. After traveling through the wooded mountains for so long, the sharp contrast of an almost desert-like region is surprisingly refreshing. Montana is similar to Washington State, in that you can go from one extreme climate to another in a matter of miles. I normally prefer the lush, green trees but right now, I feel better with the wide-open views of the plains.

  The first time I drew in the sights on the target, I discovered my math vision is still there. I just have a greater ability to control it now. So not only do I have above-perfect vision, strength, and agility but also a capability to hone in on a target using visual angles and lines. I have absolutely no excuse if I miss.

  Zane has been true to his word. We started our training early this morning, the day after our meeting. We exchanged our stained and worn clothes for ill-fitting fatigues before attending a long orientation. After several hours of dry bookwork on procedures, we spent an hour in the radio room with Jim and then finally got to come outside after lunch. We’ve each been issued our own automatic rifle, and the very strict safety protocol was hammered into us before being allowed to step onto the range.

  Some of the limited spots are already in use by other soldiers, so we’re rotating through. Missy is shooting on my other side, while Benuk, Seth, Kyle, and Nate are surrounding a mat set up in the field behind us for some hand-to-hand. Jake is watching them, while Baxter runs excitedly from one bush to another, flushing out rabbits.

  Jacob worked on Mom for half the night, trying to talk her into letting him train with us. He kept at it this morning with the senator and they finally came to an agreement over lunch. Mom caved on letting Jacob do some of the training, but absolutely no actual combat or missions. He’ll turn eleven in a couple of months, and while he’s mature for his age, no amount of argument from him is going to convince anyone to put him in danger. The training exercises will give him something to do, and allow him to feel like he’s still part of our team, but nothing more. Since he wasn’t at orientation this morning, he’s just watching us this afternoon.

  “This is stupid.” Chris has emptied his magazine and slipped the ear protectors off his head. We’re lying on our stomachs in a prone position in the dirt, a few feet separating us. He’s pointing back over his shoulder in the same direction that I was just looking. Seth and Benuk are currently wrapped up on the mat, neither one quite able to get the pin. “I’m fine now. There’s no reason I shouldn’t be able to wrestle.”

  I know he’d like nothing better than to get into a match with Seth to see how much stronger the virus might have made him. But the doc was adamant. No physical training for a week.

  “This boot camp is designed to last for several months, Chris. You’re hardly going to miss out on anything.” We both know, however, that this all could end tomorrow. Time always seems to be our enemy, and we never know when it might be up.

  A shadow falls across us, and I look up to find the instructor standing with his arms crossed. “Are you two going to shoot or talk? Because if you’re done already, I have a few other guys who would be willing to take your spots.”

  We’ve been assigned several magazines of ammo, and given set distances to empty each one at. I still have two left. “Sorry, sir,” I say meekly as I slip my ear protectors back into place. Pulling my thick hair out of the way over my shoulders, I chastise myself for not putting it up this morning. It’s gotten at least another inch longer since we got to the base. I remind myself to get a haircut. Slamming in a new magazine, I focus again on the distant target. I already took out the first designated mark, and I go to work on obliterating the other. It doesn’t take
long.

  Several other rifles are still rattling off rounds as I pick up the field binoculars to confirm what I already know. I don’t even really need to use them, but it’s protocol. I adjust the focus and see the precise holes I left behind, validation that I now have to get up and walk out to swap out the target for the last one.

  As I start to secure my rifle and prepare to notify the safety officer of my intent, I’m startled by movement on my left. Jumping up to a crouching position, I’m alarmed to see Chris walking out onto the range!

  “Cease fire! Cease fire!” I scream, waving my arms and leaping to my feet. The safety officer immediately shuts down the other shooters and the range falls silent.

  “Chris! What are you doing?” I demand, walking out to him and grabbing his shoulders to stop him. Blinking slowly, he looks around as if he isn’t sure where he is. Finally focusing on me as the angry instructor stomps toward us, he steps back.

  “Retrieving your target like you asked me to,” he says, obviously bewildered by my question.

  “I didn’t ask you to do anything!” I shout, confused and frustrated at the same time. “I don’t need you to do things for me, Chris!” He seems taken aback by my outburst. Frowning, he turns away from me. Without a word to the instructor watching the exchange, he heads out across the field and toward the buildings.

  Feeling horrible, I sprint to catch up to him, my speed startling the other soldiers. Taking him by the arm, I force him to turn toward me. Seeing the hurt I caused so plainly on his face helps me make up my mind. “We need to go talk to Zane,” I tell him. “Now.”

  FOURTEEN

  “Why are we here, Alex?” Seth demands, biting into the day-old blueberry muffin. The irony isn’t lost on me, as I watch the purple crumbs fall onto the polished table. “I was about to pin Benuk when you intervened.”

  “Seth, you always have such an interesting perception on things,” Benuk says evenly. “I’ll be sure to give you the opportunity to prove yourself.”

  “Yeah, Alex,” Jacob adds. “I was gonna get a chance to wrestle next. Now they’ll probably never let me!” He’s awfully close to whining, but I restrain myself from pointing it out. He would never forgive me for embarrassing him in front of the guys.

  “I’ll wrestle ya any time, bud,” Kyle says good-naturedly, rubbing the top of Jake’s head on his way to the snack table.

  Chris has taken a chair at the far end of the room, his normally positive demeanor noticeably subdued. He isn’t exactly glaring at me, but I know he’s irritated. He stood silently by as I insisted the instructor find the senator, and tell him to meet with all of us, ASAP. It’s only the first day of training, and I’ve already broken just about every rule of rank and procedure. Chris didn’t say a word all the way here.

  “Just wait for Zane to get here, and then I’ll explain,” I tell Seth. “I don’t want to have to say anything more than-”

  I’m interrupted when the door opens abruptly, and the two officers from yesterday file into the room, followed by Jim and another military type. They all quietly take a seat and then look at me expectantly. “Ummm …” I mumble. “Is Zane, I mean, the senator coming?”

  “I’m here.” I turn to find Zane, Mom, Dr. Paul, and Lisa behind me. “Cindy couldn’t come. She has about twenty kids she’s responsible for right now.”

  It’s a huge meeting table, but there are still not enough seats for everyone. Nate and Kyle choose to stand back at the snack table, and Baxter is happily licking up crumbs on the floor. Feeling suddenly unsure about this, I move to the front of the room to address everyone.

  “Why am I here?” the doctor asks me before I can start. “The senator said you requested my attendance, Alex. Are you feeling ill?”

  “No,” I assure him. “I’m not sick, but I need to know what you found in my blood when you examined it.” Instead of answering, he looks at Zane first, and then back at me nervously.

  I turn to the senator. “What did you find? I need to know.”

  “It was inconclusive.”

  “Inconclusive?” I press. “What does that mean? Why are my effects from the virus so extreme, and why am I still changing?” When Zane again exchanges a look with the doc instead of answering me, I lose my patience. “Look at me!” I now shout. “Look at my eyes, Zane. What’s happening to me? You have to tell me everything you know. We all deserve that,” I add with a sweeping gesture to include all of my friends.

  “It isn’t that simple!” he yells back, taking me by surprise. “I wish I could give you the answers you want, Alex,” he continues more gently. “But the truth is that we don’t know what the virus or the antivirus did to you. The results of your blood work weren’t the same as Chris’s or the others treated at the other lab before him.”

  “How is it different?” Chris asks quietly.

  “Well, based on the data I received on the patients treated by the other scientists producing the antiviral meds,” Dr. Paul says when Zane nods at him to continue. “in addition to how Chris reacted, I think it’s safe to say the medication acts basically the same as any other antiviral. The sooner it’s administrated, the less chance there is of death or permanent impairment. After the first few hours, the risks increase exponentially. After twelve hours, there is a greater than 50% chance of death, and at twenty hours around 80%, with varying outcomes. If it weren’t for Chris’s age and good health, he would have surely died.”

  “Why don’t I have any superhero powers then?” Kyle complains. “Didn’t the stuff that came out of the pyramids before do the same thing when it cured me?”

  “No,” I answer. Paul seems surprised at my confidence. “The professor told me how it worked the last time I saw him. He explained the process was similar to apop … I mean, atop -”

  “Apoptosis,” the doctor offers.

  “Yeah, that. It’s as if the viral DNA self-detonated and exploded from the inside out. Totally different than how the antiviral stuff we have works.”

  “Exactly!” Dr. Paul agrees. “That’s also why, instead of having any lasting enhancements, you have an injury. The longer someone has been a Shiner from the Holocene virus and the more damaged their brains were, to begin with, determined how much destruction there was the treatment was released from the pyramid. Unlike with Chris where the whole process itself was stopped with protease inhibitors before it had a chance to be completed.”

  “How come his eyes don’t glow?” Jacob asks. It’s a good question. I was wondering about that myself.

  “The Nephi2 virus is a thousand times more advanced than, say, the common flu virus,” Dr. Paul tells him. “Instead of attacking just the immune system, it also goes after various parts of the brain. From what we can tell, the changes start with the five senses; hearing, smell, touch, taste, and sight. These are all enhanced. Then it moves on to cognitive, reflexes, instincts, hand-eye coordination, muscle and other connective tissue, and collagen production. The last area of the brain to be changed is its center. This is where your emotions are housed, Once that goes, there’s no turning back.

  “It’s good you picked up on the eyes, Jacob. Because that was a key part of us understanding this last feature. You see, your normal vision doesn’t include the ability to see in the dark. That is not an enhancement, but an addition. So while your visual acuity is improved, that is part of the first phase of the infection. The addition of night vision is the final step in the transformation process, and it takes place in a very different area of the brain. This has now become a means for us to gauge whether or not a patient is a candidate for the antiviral meds or not. If they are so far into the process that their eyes are glowing, then it is too late.”

  My head is reeling at this news. “Then why am I not a Shiner?” I say, barely loud enough for those nearest me to hear.

  “We don’t know, Alex,” Zane answers. “That’s my point. We can explain what’s happening to everyone else with a fair degree of confidence, but not you.”

  “Your blood
doesn’t have the right antibody markers,” the doctor adds. “It’s as if your genes simply mutated and then stopped on their own, rather than as a result of an immune response. Since it doesn’t appear that the replication process was ever destroyed, you have all of the enhancements, yet somehow the limbic region of your brain remains untouched.”

  “Maybe the Mudameere did something different to her,” Chris suggests. “Alex overheard them saying some weird stuff about her while she was there.” I often wondered this same thing myself.

  “No,” Seth says without hesitation. “I might not understand all this genetics stuff, but the doc at our Mudameere lab was very clear about his intent with Alex. My father was also sure of her role in everything. It was always their plan to infect her with the Nephi2 virus that the Mudameere created, and control her, as a way to prove to RA that they were worthy. Giving her something else would totally negate what they were trying to achieve. Besides, I really don’t think anyone working for them would have the ability to make something as advanced as what you’re describing. Even the Nephi2 virus was just a modification, and the professor was able to counter that all on his own.”

  “It wasn’t a shot,” Nate interrupts. Looking at the other end of the room, I see he’s holding a muffin partway to his mouth. “The antiviral meds the professor gave to Alex were in the form of a pill, not a shot like the one you gave Chris. What if it was the professor who caused all of those changes on purpose?”

  A crawling sensation is working its way up my back, and I can tell by the way everyone is looking at me that it makes as much sense to them as it does me.

  “But to what end?” Benuk asks.

  “She can communicate with Shiners.” Everybody looks at Seth and I close my eyes, groaning inwardly. Even though this is why I called this meeting in the first place, Seth just has a knack for making things seem so much worse. “Oh come on!” he says, frustrated. “You all know what happened back there with Chris.”