by Jake Bible
“The primordial ooze,” Dr. Burkhorst repeats. “What life crawled out of. Makes sense since we’ve seen all kinds of life crawl around in there. We just didn’t know that the life could get out. Not until the Yellowstone caldera ruptured. That certainly didn’t turn out as expected, did it?”
“No,” Dr. Probst replies, shaking her head. “No, it didn’t.”
“Dr. Burkhorst?” Dr. McDaniels’s voice calls out, making Dr. Probst jump.
“Just the radio,” Dr. Burkhorst laughs as she turns from the clear wall and walks past Dr. Probst to the cart. She picks up a radio clipped to the dash and presses the button. “Go ahead, Valerie.”
“We need you back here now,” Dr. McDaniels says. “China, Japan, and Australia are making contact.” There is some mumbling in the background. “Iceland and Kenya. What? Seriously? Well, shit.”
“What is it, Valerie?” Dr. Burkhorst asks.
“Italy and France too,” Dr. McDaniels says. “The network is about to go online.”
“I’ll be right there,” Dr. Burkhorst says as she replaces the radio on the dash and snaps her fingers. “Doctor! We need to go! I’d leave you here since you can’t damage anything, but you’ll want to be a part of this.”
“A part of what?” Dr. Probst asks, reluctantly turning from the Substance.
“I don’t know,” Dr. Burkhorst responds, looking almost giddy. “Like I said, none of us do.”
Twelve
The world swims in and out as Terrie tries to claw her way to consciousness. The pain that wracks her entire body helps a little, but also threatens to plunge her back into the darkness. She struggles to grasp onto something, anything, that can be a mental anchor and bring her out of the abyss that threatens to swallow her whole.
A loud bark right in her ear, then the stinky smell of dog breath does the trick.
Terrie opens her eyes and is instantly covered in happy dog licks from her forehead down to her neck.
“Get off me,” Terrie groans as Biscuit continues his slobbery onslaught. “Biscuit, knock it off.”
“He hasn’t left your side since we washed up,” Linda says from a couple feet away.
Terrie squints into the early morning light to see both Linda and Krissy huddled around a small fire, the duffel bag at the smalls of their backs so they can lean in relative comfort. Terrie looks about at her surroundings and is more than glad that they are all several yards from the shore, tucked up in a small beach made up of large, smooth rocks and driftwood. She pushes Biscuit away, but he comes right back and starts in on the licking. She doesn’t have the strength to fight him off again, and just lies back and lets it happen.
A sound from behind them gets his attention, and he finally stops with the licking in order to lower his head and growl.
Linda looks over her shoulder and shrugs.
“They’ve been watching us for at least a couple hours,” Linda states.
“A couple of hours?” Terrie asks. “Have I been out that long?”
“Yeah,” Linda says. “And this one still hasn’t said a word.”
Terrie slowly, painfully sits up and studies Krissy. The girl is no longer wrapped in a blanket and sits close to the fire, her knees to her chest, and arms wrapped about her legs. Her eyes are fixated on the fire, and they widen and narrow with every pop and hiss from the driftwood.
Noticing that Krissy’s clothes are different and dry, Terrie looks down at herself.
“It wasn’t easy, trust me,” Linda says as Terrie realizes she’s been changed. “But I’m a nurse. Not the first time I’ve had to undress and redress a person dead to the world.”
“Thank you,” Terrie says, and carefully scoots closer to the fire. She stretches her hands in front of her and revels in the warmth from the flames. Then she looks over her shoulder. “How many, do you think?”
“Four, maybe,” Linda shrugs. “Someone else must have figured this island would be a good place to hunker down on instead of grabbing their cache and heading out to sea.” She raises her voice. “I just wish they’d show themselves instead of hiding in the fucking rhododendrons!”
No response.
Without trying to stare, Terrie turns her focus on Krissy. The girl’s bandages are fresh, but already beginning to show signs that her wounds have still not stopped bleeding.
“They pretty much all opened back up once we hit the water,” Linda says, seeming to guess at Terrie’s thoughts. “I did what I could, but my supplies are limited, and this is a FUCKING BEACH AND NOT A HOSPITAL!”
There’s a shuffle from the bushes, but no answer or showing of whomever is watching them.
A far off roar is heard, and Terrie whips her head about. She looks across the water of the Sound towards tall columns of smoke that rise into the air where Everett still burns. Another roar is followed by another and another, considerably different than the tentacled whales’ roars. Yet familiar.
“That just started,” Linda says. “I think it’s what woke you up.”
“Can you see the source?” Terrie asks.
“No, they’re too far away,” Linda responds. “But as long as they aren’t giant sharks or tentacle whales, then I’m good.”
“They’re far bigger than that,” a gruff voices responds from behind them.
Linda whirls about and shoves up to her feet. Terrie neither whirls nor shoves, but slowly gets up to face the man stepping out from the line of bushes and fir trees. He’s close to Terrie’s age with a thick salt and pepper beard covering most of his weathered brown face. He has a Seattle Mariners baseball cap covering long, bushy white hair that’s pulled into a ponytail in back.
A 30/30 rests over his right shoulder, and he has a large caliber pistol on his right hip, with an almost as large hunting knife strapped to his left. In his left hand he holds out a set of high-powered binoculars.
“Have a look,” he says.
“Who are you?” Terrie asks.
“I have to ask the same question, miss,” the man replies. “You’re on my island.”
“Your island? I don’t think so,” Linda says.
“Well, for all intents and purposes, it is now,” the man smiles. “The name is Roy. Roy Waldruff.”
“Terrie Morgan,” Terrie says. “This is Linda…?” Terrie is suddenly embarrassed she doesn’t know Linda’s last name.
“Linda Milton,” Linda finishes.
“You two come from the base?” Roy asks.
“We did,” Terrie says.
Roy and Terrie stand there and size each other up. Finally, Roy chuckles and slings his rifle around his back. He steps forward and thrusts the binoculars at Terrie.
“You’re gonna want to take a look,” Roy insists. “Trust me.”
Terrie takes the binoculars and turns towards the Sound. “What am I looking at?”
“Find Rainier,” Roy says. “Once you do, then you’ll know.”
Terrie scans the horizon until she finds the massive shape of Mt. Rainier. She focuses the binoculars, then gasps and pulls them away from her eyes. She looks over at Roy, and he nods, then frowns.
“Yeah, that’s what I did,” Roy says. “You ever seen anything like those things before?”
“Yes,” Terrie says as she takes another look and realizes why the roars sound familiar. Her heart races as the power of the binoculars brings the image close enough that, while not quite the illusion of being able to reach out and touch the mountain, she at least feels like even if she had a head start she wouldn’t escape the six monsters climbing about on the mountain’s side. “I was hoping I’d never see those things again.”
“What things?” Linda asks.
Terrie reluctantly takes the binoculars from her eyes and hands them over to Linda.
“You say you seen them before?” Roy asks.
“Yes, sir,” Terrie says. “Back in Idaho. They came tearing across the land like their asses were on fire, crushing everything in their path. I believe they came out of the Yellowstone volcano,
but no way to know for sure.”
Linda gasps as well, and lowers the binoculars slowly. She hands them back to Roy.
“What are they doing?” Linda asks.
“My guess?” Terrie replies. “Digging.”
***
“Why the hell haven’t we heard from VanderVoort?” Dr. Burkhorst snaps as she paces back and forth in front of a bank of video monitors. “We have confirmation of activity from every damn facility across the globe! That woman had better make contact soon, or I swear I’m going to…”
The Doctor lets the sentence die as the other scientists huddle around a table covered in laptops, desktops, tablets, and a myriad of phones, both cell and landline.
“VanderVoort? That’s who’s in charge, right?” Dr. Probst asks.
“Yes,” Dr. Burkhorst says. “One hundred percent in charge. Regulations clearly state that once all facilities have confirmed full network communications, then the protocol is put in place, and VanderVoort assumes control.”
“Control of what?” Dr. Probst asks.
“Everything,” Dr. Mannering says without looking up from the two tablets he’s furiously working on. “Once the protocol is active, then VanderVoort becomes President of the world.”
“That is not true,” Dr. McDaniels says. “VanderVoort just takes emergency control until the crisis is over.”
“The crisis? You mean the monsters and the volcano erupting?” Dr. Probst asks.
Everyone looks up at her and frowns.
“No, Doctor, that is only part of it,” Dr. Burkhorst says. “The true crisis is the survival of the human species and the possible destruction of the entire planet. If theories hold true, then anyone not in a secure facility such as ours will be dead in months.”
“Weeks,” Dr. Mannering says.
“Days,” Dr. McDaniels counters.
“Hours,” a man says as he walks into the room. Handsome, early thirties, dressed in khakis and a t-shirt that says Born To Be Mild, the man walks over to Dr. Probst and offers his hand. “Dr. Edward Scofield. Sorry we haven’t met yet, I’ve been on the other side of the Substance the past day taking as many readings as I can in case VanderVoort shuts down access.”
“Oh, uh, Dr. Cheryl Probst,” Dr. Probst says as she shakes Dr. Scofield’s hand. “Uh, readings? What is it that you do?”
“Nuclear engineer,” Dr. Scofield replies. “I keep the lights on.”
“This place has a nuclear reactor?” Dr. Probst gasps.
“This place is a nuclear reactor,” Dr. Scofield grins. “The Substance puts off enough energy to light North America for eternity, if we wanted to try to harness it.”
“Which we don’t,” Dr. McDaniels says.
“Bad idea,” Dr. Mannering agrees.
“Chicken shits,” Dr. Scofield responds. “At least they let me power this place. Did Burkhorst mention that they used to use diesel generators until the mid-seventies? Insane.”
“Engineers messing with something they don’t understand is insane,” Dr. Burkhorst says. “And it’s Dr. Burkhorst, not just Burkhorst. Show some respect, Edward.”
“Ted,” Dr. Scofield replies, his eyes on Dr. Probst. “Call me Ted.”
“Okay,” Dr. Probst nods. “Ted. Call me Cheryl.”
“Are you two joking?” Dr. McDaniels scoffs. “Sit your asses down, and get to work.”
“What? Me?” Dr. Probst asks as Dr. McDaniels points at an open seat at the table and a stack of laptops and tablets.
“You are the geologist,” Dr. Mannering adds.
“Volcanologist,” Dr. Burkhorst states. “That’s why you are even here. We need you. Hopefully, you are good at what you do.”
“You were point on the Yellowstone caldera before it turned into an erupting supervolcano that spit out Hell demons,” Dr. Scofield says. “Right?”
“I don’t know about the Hell demons part,” Dr. Probst says, “but, yes, I was lead scientist. Not that lead anything matters much now.”
“Except for me,” Dr. Burkhorst says. “Don’t forget that. I’m in charge down here.”
“She can’t ever forget that, Burkhorst,” Dr. Scofield says, “because I’m sure you’ll remind her every ten minutes.”
A loud buzzing fills the room, and everyone turns to a video monitor in the center of all the others.
“What’s that?” Dr. Probst asks.
“VanderVoort,” Dr. Burkhorst says. “Finally.”
Everyone’s laptops chime, and they all return their attention to the small screens in front of them.
“This can’t be,” Dr. Mannering says.
“We’ve never seen anything that size before come out of the Substance,” Dr. McDaniels says.
Dr. Burkhorst shoves next to Dr. Mannering and peers down at the information streaming across his screen.
“Cilia? For cilia to be that size then the host body would have to be miles across,” Dr. Burkhorst states.
All of the Doctors except Dr. Scofield turn their heads in the direction of where the Substance lies. Dr. Scofield just leans in to Dr. Probst.
“Having fun yet, Cheryl? If not, then just hold on,” he smirks. “Things are about to getreally interesting.”
***
Everyone at the table in the situation room just glares at Dr. Hall as the man stands at the far end and wrings his hands, none too pleased with the attention.
“You said they were tails,” President Nance says for the fourth time. “How do you mix up tails and cilia?”
“Like I said, Mr. President, it was an honest mistake.” He glances around the room hoping to see a friendly face, but Agent Alvarez had been taken away for debriefing an hour ago and hasn’t returned. “This is all brand new, even for someone like me that has spent years studying the more esoteric avenues of science.”
There are a few snorts from those assembled at the table.
“Uh, would it be possible for me to maybe, uh, get some sleep?” Dr. Hall asks. “I appreciate the clean clothes and the food provided, but I’ve been reporting to you all for three hours straight now. I really haven’t slept for almost two days, so some rest might help clear my mind.”
“How about we start at the beginning?” Borland suggests. “Go over all of this one more time before you go have a nap. Just in case you missed something.”
Dr. Hall sighs, looks close to breaking into tears, then takes a deep breath, and starts to speak.
“No need to blabber more, Doctor,” a woman says as she walks into the situation room. “All we needed to hear was cilia. I’ve passed that on to the facilities, and they will take it from there. Thank you. Go get that sleep you need. We’ll chat when you wake up.”
The woman is tall and blond, with a wide face and rugged look about her that suggests her Midwest American looks are not just genes, but from a life of hard work and plenty of time outdoors. She smiles at the stunned faces of the men and women seated at the table.
“Oh, this,” she laughs as she looks down at her distended belly. “Yep, six months pregnant. It’s a boy. I’m either going to name him Buzz or Chuck. You know, after Buzz Aldrin or Chuck Yeager? I just can’t decide.”
“I do not know who you are, but you will leave this room immediately!” President Nance shouts as he gets to his feet. He glances around, but not a single Secret Service agent moves forward to remove the woman. “Excuse me! I have given an order for this woman to be taken from here! I want that order executed this second!”
“Careful using the word executed,” the woman smiles. “Things can get confusing during a crisis, and I’d hate for someone to lose their head.”
“Who in the hell are you?” President Nance roars.
“Calm down, Charles,” Director Miles says as he hurries into the room. “Sorry, I had to finish a call with Beijing.” He points at the video monitors. “You’ll want to see this.”
“Gordon, I am the President of the United States, and I demand to know what the hell is happening!” President Nance shouts.
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“Then shut up and watch,” the woman says.
There’s a collective gasp from the table and President Nance starts to reply, but is interrupted by one of the techs.
“Sir, a volcano has erupted in Iceland,” the tech reports.
“Dammit,” Director Miles curses. “I’m out of the pool already. Who would have thought Iceland?”
“I did,” the woman says, and walks over to the row of techs. “Who’s next?”
“Uh, looks like China,” the tech replies. “Wait, Japan just reported that Mt. Fuji has exploded. The entire mountain is gone!”
“Remarkable,” the woman says. “Are they still online?”
“No, Japan has gone dark,” the tech states. “So has China. And Russia. We just lost France, no, wait—we just lost all of Europe.”
“I always forget there are volcanoes in Europe,” Director Miles says.
“That’s why I’m in charge, Gordon,” the woman replies. “Who else?”
The tech doesn’t reply, just shakes his head. Finally he pushes back from his station and turns to look at the woman, then he looks past her and straight at the President.
“Sir, everything has gone dark,” the tech says. “We can’t get through to a single nation. No one is responding.”
“EMPs sure are a bitch,” the woman says.
“You know who is a bitch?” President Nance snarls. “You! Now tell me who the fuck you are, or I will have you shot!”
“Initiate the Nirvana Protocol,” the woman announces.
Every screen in the room goes blank, and the lights dim. Then the screens reboot, and instead of images from satellites, the monitors are filled with the faces of scientists from around the world, all chattering and speaking directly into cameras in front of them.
“Good thing it boots up on mute,” the woman says. “Am I right?”
President Nance, as well as everyone in the room except for Director Miles, look from the screens, to the woman, and back to the screens.
“Isn’t that Dr. Probst?” Joan says, the first person to break through the shock and speak. “Why is Dr. Probst on a screen?”
