Return To The Center Of The Earth

by Return To The Center Of The Earth (epub)

  The second thing that happened was the soldiers had their hands on their guns and watched the interaction with hawk-like stares. Mike suddenly realized he wasn’t just taking on Harris; his challenge meant he was taking them all on.

  The final thing was Jane rushing in and slapping Harris’ face hard enough to get his attention.

  “Stop that,” Jane yelled.

  Harris looked up at her and grinned. “That was a free one. But don’t do that again.” He lowered his face close to Mike’s. “That goes for you too. This is twice; you’re not a tough guy, Mike. Remember that. Next time, you get hurt.” He let Mike go.

  Mike sprang straight to his feet and rolled his shoulder. He glared and desperately wanted to rub his screaming shoulder but didn’t want to show the pain.

  Harris just looked calm and only tilted his head and gave them both an understanding smile.

  “Ms. Baxter and Mr. Monroe, this is important. We all want to go home, and that means as soon as possible. But we also want to save a hellova lot of lives. Can you please help us do that?”

  Mike straightened. “My point still stands. What if you can’t find the Russians? How long do you intend looking for them?”

  “We’ll find them,” Harris replied. “You just let me worry about that.”

  Jane scoffed. “Well, one thing’s for sure, we won’t die of old age down here; we’ll all eventually be eaten, one by one.”

  “Hey!” Ally yelled.

  They turned to Ally in time to see her holding her head and facing up into the canopy.

  “My hat. Something just… took it,” Ally said.

  They all faced the tree branches overhead. At first there was nothing but the crowded green limbs, leaves so thick they blocked light, and an occasional creeper vine adding some different textures.

  “There.” Jane pointed.

  The leaves rustled, and then from within the bunch something raced along a limb to another blush of leaves. Harris and a few of the others pulled binoculars and turned them up.

  Harris began to chuckle. “Well, well, you cheeky little bastards.”

  “What is it?” Alistair asked.

  “God damn, they look like… monkeys,” Hitch said.

  The creature, followed by several others of its kind, broke from cover and raced to another limb to then stop, motionless. It was easy to see why no one had managed to spot them, because they were all a striped, emerald green.

  They looked to be only a couple of feet tall, and though their bodies were segmented, they moved fluidly. They had long slender limbs and gripping hands with opposable thumbs on their arms and feet. But the most startling aspect was their face. The visage had a pair of extremely large forward-facing eyes, slit-like air holes for a nose, and a broad mouth.

  “Very simian,” Alistair said through his wide grin.

  “Little creep’s got my hat,” Ally said and then lifted her gun. “I’ll wing it.”

  “No.” Harris held a hand out. “If they’re our thieves then odds are they’ll have our tracker too. See if you can spot it or where they’ve taken it.”

  “This is truly amazing. A simian arthropod species.” Alistair turned to Jane. “What was the expression you used? Concurrent evolution?”

  Jane nodded.

  “Monkey bugs, monkbugs.” Bull laughed at his own joke.

  Alistair nodded. “That fits, I like it. And the theft of our property shows a high degree of curiosity. I’ll bet they’re highly intelligent as well.” Alistair fumbled in his kit and produced a slim energy bar. “Let me try something.” He quickly unwrapped it from its foil case, mimed nibbling at it, and then held it out. He made clicking noises with his tongue. “C’mon guys, come see what Uncle Alistair has got.”

  The simian creatures saw that they had been detected and began to chatter amongst themselves as if debating their next move. They then eased out from their hiding places; first a handful, then a dozen, and then from multiple places in the canopy.

  “Oh shit, there must be dozens,” Ally said.

  One eased down the opposite tree trunk, using hands and feet exactly like a monkey would. The group saw now that it also used a coiling, tail-like appendage that was perhaps the last two legs fused together.

  It sniffed the air, obviously catching the scent of the food bar. It came ever closer, now to within fifty feet. Even from that distance they could see the intelligence in its eyes and they went from Alistair to the food in his hand.

  “Come on, little fella, I know you want it. It’s real yummy.” He crouched down to more the height of the monkbug and started to make kissing noises.

  “Hold fire,” Harris said softly. “Everyone, look for that damn tracker.”

  Mike noticed that most of the creatures watched from their perches high above them but several dozen had been dispatched to also come a little closer.

  “Ah, not to alarm anyone, but I remember seeing a clip from an ancient temple that hosted big groups of monkeys, and they were experts at performing flash raids to steal anything not nailed down from tourists,” Mike whispered.

  “Got it,” Harris replied, not taking his eyes off the creatures. “Guard your gear, people.”

  Alistair broke off a small piece of the bar and held it out as the creature came even closer.

  When it was within a dozen feet of him, he couldn’t suppress his grin. “Come on, take it.” He stretched out an arm holding the bite-sized piece. The monkbug did the same.

  Like Michelangelo’s painting of the Creation of Adam on the Sistine Chapel, the two beings’ hands reached to one another. The monkbug’s eyes darted from Alistair, to the piece of energy bar, and then back to the young man again.

  Alistair held the bite-sized morsel in his fingertips and stretched his arm to its limit. Then, suddenly, the small creature darted forward, snatching it from him and scurrying back a few feet. It sniffed, and then immediately jammed it into its mouth.

  “Oh my,” Alistair whispered.

  Colors rippled over its body as some sort of chromatophor display kicked in as it couldn’t help the waves of pleasure running throughout its body and then them being expressed as bands of light and color.

  The other monkbugs approached it and laid their hands on the food grabber and immediately they also started to express themselves in color waves as though the pleasurable sensation of the food was also passed to them.

  After the chunk was swallowed, the tiny creature seemed to immediately overcome any fear and approached again, closer and held out its hand.

  “Get my hat back,” Ally said.

  “Worth a try.” Alistair showed the creature the bar, but then held out his own hand, curling the fingers in a ‘give it here’ gesture. The large orbs of the tiny creature stared for a moment, and if it was confused it was hard to tell as the exoskeleton shell over its face didn’t lend itself to many expressions.

  But one of the others seemed to get it and crept forward. In its hand it held a small piece of fruit.

  Alistair shook his head. “No.” He pulled back the food bar.

  Another creature tried again, this time with a large bloom. But once again Alistair shook his head and withdrew the treat. He turned to another group and held out the bar and his hand.

  Finally a creature approached, bearing Alistair’s wristwatch.

  Alistair nodded. “Oh yeah, that’s it, we trade.”

  He broke off another piece of bar and held it out in one hand and his open palm for the other to the watch carrier.

  The monkbug held out the wristwatch and gradually both hands came closer to their respective prizes.

  Alistair saw the watch alight on his palm, and he gradually began to close his fingers. Like lightning, the monkbug snatched the piece of food, and then tried to also snatch back the watch. But Alistair expected it and had managed to grip the band and hold on.

  But then just as fast, the creature’s other hand went to the full bar, trying to swipe that as well, but Alistair was ready and had alread
y drawn that away.

  “Expert little thieves.” He laughed softly.

  The monkbug scurried off, making a sort of crooning noise, and Alistair turned and held up his watch.

  “Trading terms have been negotiated.” He grinned.

  Harris grunted. “Do it again and see if any of you can trade back our tracker.”

  Ally and Hitch joined Alistair and the three held out further morsels of food. More of the monkbugs decided there was little danger and scaled down bearing all manner of things, from sticks, fruit, and a few items that were recognizable as being bones. But there were also items of clothing and equipment.

  “Hey, check it out.” Hitch pointed. “That’s a new Russian blade.”

  “Looks like they came across our Russian friends as well; that’s good.” Harris cradled his gun.

  “There,” Ally said. “That’s our tracker.”

  The monkbug held the cigarette-sized device loosely in one hand, and occasionally transferred it to its mouth as it used two hands to swing and climb to the food-bearing human trio.

  “Easy, don’t scare it away.” Harris craned forward. “Just get that damned tracker.”

  “Come on little fella,” Ally said and waggled the portion of food bar.

  The monkbug eased forward, but also seemed to drag a lot of other hopeful diners with it. It still held the tracker in its mouth.

  “Nuh uh.” Ally pulled the food back and curled her fingers, indicating she wanted something in return rather than just play show and tell. The simian-looking creature got the message and took the tracker from its mouth, held it out, and came forward again.

  Ally nodded and held out the treat. “That’s it, come to mama.”

  The creature’s large eyes were fixed on the treat and it began to ripple with bands of color as if the anticipation of the food was enough to give it pleasure.

  Once again the tiny hands came closer, and Ally moved forward and her eyes flicked to the tracker. In the split second she took her eyes off the food and the creature, it shot out its hand, snatched the food, and went to scurry away, now in possession of both the food and the tracker.

  “Sonofabitch,” Ally yelled.

  A single shot rang out, and the creature was blown off the tree branch. Harris lowered his handgun.

  “What did you do?” Alistair had his hands to his head, his eyes wide.

  The now hundreds of gathered simian bugs froze and stared.

  “Negotiations concluded,” Harris said as he holstered his weapon. “Ally, get down there and retrieve that tracker, ASAP.”

  “On it.” Ally started to climb down.

  “That was shit,” Mike said.

  “Yeah, maybe, but unavoidable.” Harris continued to watch as Ally scaled down.

  Mike shook his head. “Bullshit, you just got impatient.”

  “Sure did.” Harris chuckled softly. “Got what he deserved; little bastard double-crossed us.”

  Mike and Jane turned to look down at the dead creature. A few of the monkbugs had scaled down closer, and some dropped to the ground to walk, chimpanzee-like, to their fallen kin.

  Collectively, they lay their hands on the dead creature, and immediately, their bodies swam with blotches of purple and blue.

  “Beautiful, and sad,” Penny whispered.

  Every one of the simian-looking creatures that had been approaching the humans pulled back and rejoined their fellows. Then from all around them there came an eerie song-like chorus.

  “Listen; they’re grieving,” Alistair said. “They have societal and undoubtedly family grouping links.”

  “Great, you probably just shot someone’s kid,” Jane said.

  “Got it.” Ally checked it. “And A-OK, boss.” She held it up.

  Beside her, the monkbugs flared a hot red, and then suddenly darted away into the jungle.

  From out of nowhere a missile struck Ally’s face.

  “Ouch.” She held her head, and when she took her hand away, it was bloody. “You little bastards.”

  “Get back here, Bennet,” Harris said as he kept his eyes on the now agitated band of creatures.

  “These bug chimps are planning something, boss.” Bull loaded more shells into his shotgun. “Might be time to move out.”

  “I heard that,” Harris said.

  Some of the bigger simian creatures had dropped to the ground, and one cradled the dead animal in its arms for a moment, before the others lifted it and vanished into the jungle.

  “I don’t like this,” Mike said. “They’re arming themselves. Looks like you got your war after all.”

  Many of them now seemed to be brandishing lengths of wood, rocks, or baring long translucent chitin teeth.

  “Yeah, well, we’re armed as well,” Hitch said. “And our sticks spit fire.”

  Harris took a last look around. “We got everything we need; let’s move it out, people.”

  The group headed back along the branch and climbed down the huge trunk to the ground.

  Penny was last to jump down and as soon as her boots struck the leaf litter, they attacked. Stones, branches, and seedpods rained down with unerring accuracy.

  “Hold fire. But move it,” Harris yelled with his shoulders hiked under the rain of debris as he began to increase his speed.

  Above them, hundreds of the monkbugs now followed their escape, and though the flying debris was annoying and sometimes painful, it was far from debilitating.

  Up front, Hitch and Bull had their guns up as they jogged along a pathway. Mike watched as one of the creatures dropped from a low tree branch and in one smooth motion landed on Bull’s shoulder, darted its head forward to fix a mouth of needlesharp teeth on the top of his ear, and before Bull could react, it pulled back, taking the tip of the big man’s ear with it.

  The huge man reacted by roaring and spinning, opening up on full automatic. Hitch, just in front of him, did the same, followed by Ally at the rear. The trio roared as they sprayed hundreds of rounds into the canopy above them. Small bodies scrambled for cover, screeching their pain and fear, and some fell from the trees, fist-sized holes blasted through their tiny bodies.

  Another tried to drop down on Ally, but the soldiers were now ready for this tactic, and Ally blew it out of the air.

  They picked up their pace as the jungle opened up a little. But still the small simian creatures flung debris as well as themselves at the fleeing humans.

  The people sprinted, all strung out in a line, Bull leading them and using his big body like a bulldozer. By now his neck and shoulder were red with shining, fresh-flowing blood but he ignored it and made time to fire at the monkbugs overhead, plus anything and everything that got in his path.

  Mike and Jane tried to slow them down, but no one listened as Harris urged them on, happy they were increasing their speed and making good time in his quest to run down the Russians.

  It was Bull that broke out of the jungle first, and by the time Mike and Jane had done the same, he was approaching a vast plain, perhaps a mile across and totally devoid of any living thing.

  Mike frowned. There was something about the lifeless area that just wouldn’t come to him. It was Jane who grabbed his arm as she remembered first.

  “Stop. Stop them,” she yelled as she hung onto him. She jerked on his arm, hard. “Crush land.”

  “Oh shit.” Mike suddenly remembered the words of the old woman in her notes and stopped dead. “Stop, sto-ooop!” he yelled until he was hoarse.

  Alistair, Penny and Ally were behind them and slowed. Out in front, Bull, Hitch and Harris powered on. Only Harris looked back over his shoulder, as his two biggest men approached the edge of the plain of nothingness.

  Bull had a dozen feet on Hitch, who had about two dozen on Harris. Bull entered the dead zone first, and simply vanished.

  Hitch slowed, his neck craning as he tried to work out what had happened. He slowed but didn’t stop and entered still with his head and shoulders leaning forward as he looked for his buddy. Th
en he too simply vanished.

  Harris slowed, lifting his gun as though looking for some sort of assailant. He kept going and turned, his forehead deeply creased.

  “Stop, Harris, stop NOW!” Mike screamed as he began to sprint at the group leader.

  “Where?” He walked forward another few paces. “Where’d they go?” He continued walking to the plain of nothingness.

  Mike caught up to Harris, grabbing him at the hips and tackling him sideways. At first Harris fought back, but Mike let go, rolled away and waved him down.

  “Crush land,” Mike sputtered as the rest of the group caught up.

  “I don’t understand. Where are my men?” Harris turned to look out over the bleak ground. “Where’d they go?”

  Up close, the air seemed to shimmer in something like heatwaves. In the silence, only broken by their gasping breaths, they could hear something: a soft squealing and grinding, like the sound of a millstone’s wheel turning, rock on rock, as it ground flour or grains.

  Jane stopped behind them, squinting into the vast space. Penny, Alistair and Ally came up behind them.

  “Where are the guys?” Ally asked. “Where’d Bull and Hitch go?”

  Mike shook his head and stared at the ground in the dead zone. “They didn’t go anywhere; in a way, they’re still right here.”

  Jane crouched to pick up a fist-sized rock. “Crush land.” She tossed it to the line on the ground that separated where they were to the bleak land where the plants ended as neatly as if it had been cut. The thrown rock vanished.

  “Where’d it go?” Harris got to his feet.

  “Didn’t you hear us? It’s still here.” Mike also rose. “Or we think at least its atoms are.” He turned. “Didn’t read all my manuscript, did you?”

  Harris shrugged and turned. “Skipped a few bits.”

  Mike put a hand over his eyes and looked up. “There are places like this throughout this hidden world. The physicists thought the gravity inside the center of the world would be so great it would crush anything down to nothingness. But we thought maybe the gravity wells acted as a pressure valve.”

  “But not everywhere,” Jane added. “There are some areas where the full gravity effects still exert themselves. This is one of them.”