Return To The Center Of The Earth

by Return To The Center Of The Earth (epub)

  Above them, hanging like ghastly Christmas ornaments, were more of the webbing sacks stuck to the mighty limbs or hanging from them by cords of the tough and sticky resin.

  “I think this is a nest,” Chekov whispered. “And we are right in the middle of it.”

  Dmitry suddenly remembered what the smell reminded him of: when he was a child, he crawled under his family house and saw what he thought was a large ball of cottonwool stuck to a beam. He pulled it free with his bare fingers and as soon as he did it exploded into hundreds of tiny spiders running everywhere at once and especially up his arm. The smell had been like this: sweet and nauseating.

  Dmitry grimaced and tugged on his friend’s shoulder. “I think we should hurry.”

  In a few more minutes, where they walked was now completely covered in resin, and the air was so humid a mix of perspiration and water dripped from his chin and nose.

  Dmitry gripped his gun tighter. The grape bunches were everywhere now, but he had no desire to see if they were any sort of fungal, animal or edible fruits as the acrid smell was making his eyes water.

  Passing through another aperture, they entered an even larger space that might have been in the center of three huge tree trunks, but there was so much of the material strung about it created a cave that glistened like honey and amber in the light from their flashlights. In another time it might have been beautiful, but here, now, it was ominous as the entire ceiling was crowded with the bulbous objects.

  Dmitry halted the group as they surveyed the multiple exits and he decided on their next move. A humid, foul-smelling mist was at ground level rising just to their knees, and poking up through it were several of the large greyish bulbs.

  Mila Golobev, the biologist, carried her gun awkwardly. She was a scientist who had been given some basic weapons training before departing and never looked comfortable with it in her hands.

  She carefully approached the bulbous growth and when just a foot from it, prodded it with the barrel of her gun. It shivered and seemed to pull into the ground a little tighter.

  “Maybe some sort of fungus growth rather than a tree seed pod or fruit. But displaying thigmotropism reaction to touch, more like a forest puffer ball.” Mila looked around. “It’s certainly humid enough in here to support a range of fungal species.”

  “Doctor Golobov, please get back in line,” Dmitry replied.

  “Okay. Just one more thing.” Mila looked it over one last time, her gun barrel still pointed at the large orb as though she wanted to give it another prod. But instead she held the gun in one hand and reached out with the other.

  She gently laid it on the bloated thing. She grinned and spoke over her shoulder. “It’s warm.”

  “Touch nothing,” Dmitry insisted.

  She was about to turn when the thing shivered again and made a squelching noise. Instead of pulling in tighter to the ground it suddenly lifted several inches. Mila went to step back, but her foot had become glued to some of the sticky resin.

  She fell back onto her butt. And as her finger had been within the trigger guard, when she hit the ground, her rifle discharged a single round.

  The noise was excruciatingly loud in the tomb-silent space. Everyone froze, but when the echoing boom finally fell away, they weren’t left with silence anymore.

  There was a sound like a breeze in unseen trees, a rustling and sliding noise.

  “Where’s that coming from?” Dmitry whispered.

  “All around us. Everywhere,” Chekov replied, turning slowly.

  “Form up, get in tight,” Dmitry said. His soldiers herded everyone into a close group with the scientists and Katya at the center.

  Mila tugged at her glued feet. She froze when the bulbous dark ball rose up before her. Her mouth dropped open and she could only stare as the thing turned toward her. It wasn’t a fruit, giant seedpod, or even some sort of giant mushroom, but instead the bulb was an abdomen, and its front half looked like a long and spiked skull with massive pincers each side of a constantly moving mouth.

  The skull-like face that was crowded with too many dark and pitiless eyes fixed on her, and it began to lift itself on long shining legs. Mila screamed, long and piercing, and tried to scuttle backward on her backside, but her feet were still stuck fast.

  She lurched forward to try and untie her boots as the creature loomed over, but Pavel fired, blowing a hole in the center of its cluster of eyes. It shrieked, insanely loudly and its legs drummed madly on the ground.

  And then the hive woke up. From all around them the bulbs lifted on long spindly legs and turned from their resting or hibernating positions to gaze at the small soft animals within their hive.

  Dmitry felt the weight of a thousand eyes on them, and then like an army that had been ordered to attack, they began to climb and drop down toward them.

  “Fire,” he yelled and opened up with deadly accuracy.

  The soldiers had formed up in a defensive ring and their guns filled the nesting chamber with hundreds of blistering rounds, puncturing many of the bulbous abdomens and blowing long legs from bodies. But for every creature they hit, more appeared from out of the glistening amber tunnels.

  “Move it.” Dmitry began to edge back and then turn to run, using his gun to clear a path. From behind him a percussion blast meant one of his team had fired a grenade. Immediately the room was filled with heat and more smoke.

  Dmitry heard Mila scream again, but this time it seemed further away, and when he spun to her, he was in time to see her being dragged into one of the amber tunnels, and then gone. In seconds her voice became fainter and fainter until their gunfire, his team’s roars, and the hellish squeals of the attacking horrors swallowed it entirely.

  Dropping from the ceiling, and emerging from the tunnels in the resin hive, hordes of the creatures attacked them. The smoke from the now red-hot guns and blasts created a thick fog, and Dmitry reached back to grab Chekov.

  “Get them moving.”

  Dmitry began to push forward to what he hoped was the way out. The tunnel he worked toward was narrower and would force them to move in a line, but he hoped at least it wouldn’t allow them to be attacked from all sides.

  The crush of the attacking monstrous creatures was so tight, that simply firing their guns everywhere struck several at once, and their sticky ichors sprayed every one of them.

  Sasha was carrying Katya, and even the scientists were firing off round after round. From behind, more grenades detonated and the squeals became maddening in their crescendo.

  In another few seconds, they were all inside the tunnel and Dmitry ran hard, aiming and firing at anything that got in his way.

  “Look,” Pavel screamed from behind them.

  Dmitry turned back and saw there was no pursuit. But what he did see was the tunnel mouth shrinking. As he watched, the creatures squirted a viscous liquid on the tunnel walls, and then used their mouths to fashion it into a curtain. In another moment, they had totally sealed off the hive chamber from the humans.

  “Are they sealing us in or out?” Chekov asked.

  Dmitry turned away. “Given we probably just took down a few hundred of their hive, I’m thinking sealing us out.”

  “What about Mila?” Nadia demanded.

  Dmitry turned.

  “Should we go after her?” She scowled at the soldier.

  “No, I am afraid she is gone. She did this to herself. But you are free to go after her.” Dmitry gave the other female scientist a hard look until she wilted. He then turned to nod to Chekov. “Take us out of this Hell, Mr. Chekov.”

  The man saluted and headed off. Dmitry turned back to the group. “And when I say don’t touch anything, I mean don’t fucking touch anything.” His eyes burned. “Or I’ll kill you myself.”

  He turned to follow Chekov out of the hive.

  CHAPTER 17

  The White House, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, D.C

  President Dan Redner, Commander in Chief, sat behind the solid English
oak desk made from the timbers of the HMS Resolute, a gift to the US presidency by Queen Victoria in 1880.

  He had his fingers steepled in front of him, and his eyes lifted from the briefing papers on the known details and possible responses to the Russian attack on the Ämari base in Estonia.

  Seated before him were his most trusted political lieutenants. The first was Michael Penalto, Secretary of State, and to his left was Mark Jasper, the Secretary of Defense. Both men had stony expressions.

  Redner breathed in and out calmly but felt a vein throbbing in his temple. “Two hundred and twelve people.” He looked from one to the other.

  “Yes, sir; no survivors,” Jasper replied.

  “Confidence level on perpetrator?” Redner looked back down at the notes.

  “One hundred percent, Russia,” Penalto said. “But proof? At this time, we have nothing but circumstantial evidence. Our team onsite at deep core is closing in on the Russian team now.”

  “Until we have something, my hands are tied,” Redner said, barely holding his frustration in check.

  “Make no mistake, this is a covert act of war, sir. At a minimum, we need to send them a warning,” Penalto urged. “It is the deep core team’s belief that the Russians are now heading for Camp Bondsteel in Kosovo. That’s one of our defensive keystones in the region.”

  “And has fifteen hundred personnel onsite,” Jasper added.

  “Jesus Christ.”

  Jasper sat forward. “We’ve war-gamed this many times, Mr. President. We can deliver a limited offensive action via our new W76-2 low-yield submarine-launched missiles that are deployed in the Atlantic. We can take out several of their bases outside of Russia.”

  “Targets?” Redner asked.

  “Selected, sir,” Jasper replied. “Designated targets would be the 102nd military base in Gyumri in Armenia, the Vileyka naval base in Belarus, and their major military base in South Oseiita, Georgia, with close to four thousand Russian military personnel.”

  Redner folded his arms “Escalation scenarios?”

  The Secretary of Defense shrugged. “We let them know that we are responding to their attack, not first-striking. Chance of escalation is low.”

  “And if they do strike back?” Redner’s brows went up.

  “If there was an upscale retaliation, nuclear, then the escalation protocol is to launch higher-yield payloads at all military complexes and several non-major cities within Russia.”

  Redner sighed. “I’ve read the scenarios reports. If they retaliate, and they might be insane enough to, then even with our missile shields, high-speed retaliatory delivery systems, and bomber superiority, the American loss of life would also be significant.” Redner felt the vein throb faster. “And then there’s the chance it gets away on us.”

  Penalto’s mouth was set in a grim line. “Yes, sir; it could move to full escalation: Russia would be obliterated. But we would be weakened and then other world powers could seek to take advantage of the conflict theatre. China might attack us, Taiwan, or Japan. Iran might strike at Israel, North Korea on South Korea and even Pakistan might take a nuclear pot-shot at India. It could mean the entire South Pacific, the Korean Peninsula, Middle East, and Europe would become engaged.”

  “We’re talking world war.” Redner sat back.

  “We would triumph,” Jasper replied confidently.

  “Yes, and I’ve seen the outcome predictions that were understandably depressing. Though we may win any global confrontation, the death toll could be as high as seventy million American lives lost, with ten times that across the globe. That’s not a legacy I want to be remembered for,” Redner said.

  “Unfortunately, sir, the die is cast. They’ve already thrown the first punch,” Penalto replied sombrely. “Whatever happens, we must punch back. And twice as hard.”

  Redner sat staring at the notes, his mind working furiously.

  “We either give them a bloody nose now,” Penalto sat forward, “or we’ll need to give them a nuclear ass kicking if Bondsteel goes down.”

  Redner nodded and sat drumming his fingers on the tabletop for several seconds. “What assets do we have in the area?”

  Penalto smiled. “Closest is the USS South Dakota, a Virginia-class fast-attack submarine with a range of missile payloads with hypersonic glide capability.”

  “Good. Move it into attack position and put the rest of the fleet on alert.” Redner rubbed his chin. “But first, there may be another option.”

  “What are you thinking, sir?” Jasper asked.

  “How long until the Russians reach Bondsteel, or until our team intersects their position?”

  “Exact time unknown, but we think within a week,” Jasper said.

  “Okay. Get our assets into place. Then I’ll have a quiet word with the Russian President.” He smiled with little humor. “Let’s see if we can deliver a bloody nose without throwing a punch.”

  “Well, I’m intrigued.”

  “Carry out your orders, then we’ll reconvene.” Redner stood. “Gentlemen, God bless America.”

  Penalto and Jasper also got to their feet and saluted their commander in chief. The Secretary of State lifted his chin. “And sir, whatever happens, you will be remembered as the president who stood up for America in its time of need.”

  The men departed and Redner slowly sat. He called up the image of the last known position of their team at deep core and sat staring at it for several minutes.

  “Come on guys, save us all a lot of worry and pain.” He continued to stare until the throbbing eased in his temple.

  CHAPTER 18

  The Monroe Expedition – two days later

  “I don’t like it,” Mike said softly.

  Harris snorted. “Oh? And what part of the last few weeks did you like?”

  Alistair Peterson was talking to Penny and holding some of the resin-like substance. He held it out to Harris. “It’s obviously biological; hive excretion. Used for cocoon building, hive building, and sometimes trapping prey.”

  “Maybe prey like us.” Penny looked up at the mesh strung throughout the trees and then in at the tunnels. “It’s everywhere; a lot of creatures made this.”

  Bull pointed to the ground. “Plenty of prints; our Russian buddies went in. They’re no more than a day or so in front now.”

  Harris turned back. “I don’t like it either. But whatever is in there, the Russians encountered it first. So, we check it out.”

  “I think it’s a mistake,” Jane said. “Mike, what do you think?”

  “We should find a way around.” Mike walked back a few paces and looked left and right of the web strewn opening. But the trees were like a colossal wall and meshed with angry-looking vines. They were passable with effort, but it meant venturing deeper into the dark jungle and would probably cost them hours or even days. “It’s high risk.”

  “Really?” Harris scoffed. “Every second we’re down here is high risk; backtracking or going around is high risk. Fact is everything down here is high risk.” He placed his hands on his hips, his muscles straining his shirt, and his voice rose. “And you know what else is high risk? Doing nothing and letting the Russians get closer to Bondsteel so they can kill more Americans. These assholes have decided to hide like assassins and kill us from under the ground; stab us in the back like cowards.” He bared his teeth momentarily. “And I am not going to allow it.”

  “HUA,” other soldiers voiced their obvious approval of Harris’ conviction.

  “Ray, we’re on the same side here,” Mike replied flatly.

  Harris stared for a moment more. “Good.” He turned away. “Here’s the plan. If we encounter trouble, we punch through it.” He tilted his head and grinned. “Maybe the Russians have already killed what’s in there. Or been killed by it, and in that case our work here is done.” Harris nodded forward. “Bull, take us in.”

  “My pleasure,” the huge soldier replied.

  Harris organized them again, and Jane and Mike were up front be
hind Harris. Then came Penny and Alistair, followed by Hitch and Ally.

  Even just inside the hive it got darker and the acrid odors more intense. It wasn’t long before they encountered the first huge lump glued to a tree trunk.

  Alistair approached the mass and held up his flashlight. “Uh-huh, as I suspected; the excreted matter is being used to subdue prey.”

  “What’s it doing, storing them for later? Ants do that: store captured bugs in a larder,” Jane added.

  “So do spiders and wasps.” Alistair moved his small light up and down the large package. “But I don’t think so.” He pointed. “See these rupture holes? Something came out of the carcass. I think what exited here is the larval stage of whatever captured this specimen. My money is on this captured creature having had eggs laid in it.”

  “Alive?” Mike asked.

  “Sure; most probably stunned and therefore fresh meat for whatever hatches on or in the host body,” Alistair replied.

  “Gross,” Ally said.

  “Got that right.” Harris exhaled. “So eyes out and stay in tight. Hitch, any movement?”

  The soldier checked his tracker, panning it around at the numerous tunnels branching off from their passage. “Nothing; like a tomb in here.”

  “Okay, let’s keep moving,” Harris replied.

  They followed Bull in deeper, and along the way found more of the captured creatures. After edging along a narrowing tunnel of the sticky resin, they entered a larger chamber, and Alistair looked up at the roof.

  “Something new.”

  Mike followed his gaze and saw the large spheres hanging from the ceiling. “More eggs maybe?” he asked.

  “There’s more,” Penny said. She began to frown as she approached it. “Oh no, there’s a person in there.”

  Harris approached and stepped up onto a thick strand of the resin. Mike and Jane followed.

  There was an ancient, mummified person, mouth gaping open in an eternal scream, a fist-sized hole punched through the ribs and tattered clothing. Mike stepped up closer.

  “One second.”