The Invasive 2: Remnants

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The Invasive 2: Remnants Page 13

by Michael Hodges

“Hell yes,” Colbrick said. “I got the hang of it pretty quick.”

  Bishop downshifted the pickup, and turned left onto Forest Road 312. They hadn’t seen anyone on the road, unusual for summer, but it was still early. The roadsides were blessed with thick rows of pine and aspen, some of them old-growth specimens. The canopy connected above the road, forming a shady verdant tunnel.

  Perfect morning for a hike, Bishop thought. Or sabotaging a government installation. A surge of adrenaline hit him, mixed with a lead ball of dread in his stomach. Was he starting to like this? Had he missed the intensity of the initial invasion?

  Angela gave him a wild-eyed look, and he could tell she was feeling this, too. She squeezed his hand and took a deep, hard breath.

  The pickup rumbled over the Forest Service road, taking the dips and bumps hard. As they drove on, the road narrowed, the concealed rocks under the gravel roadbed now jutting out like Stegosaurus fins and bone fossils. Bishop maneuvered around the worst of the obstacles, then parked the pickup on a side-spur that dead ended into a brush pile. He killed the engine, and the sound of wilderness squeezed in all around them: bird song, a faint breeze rustling the aspen leaves, a creek whispering unseen in the distance.

  “Well,” Colbrick said as he got out of the quad cab pickup and stretched, “I guess this is where we all die.”

  Angela groaned. “Come on,” she said. “Really?”

  Yutu leapt out of the cab, and followed the group to the pickup’s bed, where Bishop and Dr. Avery had stashed the gear inside a waterproof lockbox.

  Bishop unlocked the container, and fished around for the duffel bag containing the uniforms. He handed the bag to Angela, and then grabbed the boots from the container, along with Dr. Avery’s telemetry device.

  “Here you go,” Bishop said, handing it to Colbrick.

  “Well, golly gee, thanks, Santa,” Colbrick said. “Bestest Christmas gift I ever got.”

  Dr. Avery approached Colbrick, gesturing emphatically. “Now you remember what I told you? The Relay Mode is engaged. So when you turn the device on, you’re an immediate target. Anyone with another telemetry device will think you’re an invasive. And we all know common sense says Quadrant 6 has many of these devices to protect inhabitants from escaped invasive, and any stasis-invasive remaining in the woods.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I got it, Doc,” Colbrick said.

  Yutu nuzzled up to Bishop and Angela. Bishop could tell Yutu was sensing that they were going to leave him behind with Colbrick.

  Which they were, of course.

  Bishop gave him a good pat. “It’s okay, boy,” he said. “Ole’ Colbrick will take care of you.”

  Unsatisfied with that answer, Yutu nuzzled Angela and stared up at her, as if her answer might be different.

  “Sorry, cutie,” Angela said. “Bishop is right.”

  Yutu’s ears and tail drooped.

  “Oh God,” Angela said. “Guilt Trip City.”

  Colbrick aimed the telemetry device around the woods, even pointing it at the sky. “Thing’s weird,” he said.

  “You’re weird,” Angela said.

  Dr. Avery looked concerned. “Don’t turn it on quite yet,” he said to Colbrick. “Wait until we’re adjacent to Quadrant 6. When you turn the device on, aim it southeast, towards the facility. You’ll need to hike with us halfway to the target so you’re within the device’s range.”

  “Got it, Doc,” Colbrick said, while balancing the device on his knee, and lighting a cigar at the same time.

  “Careful,” Dr. Avery said. “We don’t have another one of those.”

  When everyone had geared-up, Bishop locked the pickup, and tossed the keys to Colbrick.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  En Route to Forest Road 319 (177 BPM)

  The trees turned from burnt-out and bomb-blasted snags, to patches of verdant old growth, and back again. Bishop didn’t care for the open country, at least for their current purposes. He felt exposed, like a big, oily pimple on the fairest of skin.

  “Not a fan of this,” Angela said. “Nor these uniforms.”

  Bishop checked himself out, and then Angela. The camouflaged uniforms were not their style. At all. Bishop had heard the style described as “U.S. Woodland.” Which made sense, because that was exactly their current habitat. However, Bishop wondered if the camo designers had imagined the uniforms working in bombed-out, tooth-pick wastelands, which this part of the Apex National Forest had become.

  “Like sitting ducks out here,” Colbrick grumbled.

  They weren’t quite halfway to Quadrant 6 yet, and thus Forest Road 319. Bishop cut hard to the south, to a distant patch of intact, old-growth timber. It might take them longer, but they’d be much safer. Yutu seemed to agree, as the pooch sauntered ahead of them, anxious for the green.

  Dr. Avery fidgeted, adjusting his uniform and his camo-cap.

  “So you guys have done this sort of thing before, right?” he asked.

  “You know we haven’t,” Bishop said.

  “We specialize in killing invasives,” Angela said. “Infiltrating government facilities is brand new for us. But we accept the challenge.”

  “Just be aware that the military will in fact have jurisdiction in Quadrant 6. There will be no mayor to save us.”

  Bishop thought about it, and realized it mattered little to him. “We’ve considered all that,” he said. “We’re here to execute the plan you told us about. Not so much because we want to wipe out friendly invasives, but because Werner and his experiments pose a bigger threat to all of us, and this land than the invasive do.”

  Dr. Avery nodded. “I’ve always felt that way.”

  A moment later, the group found themselves under a shady canopy. They passed around a canteen, and a bottle of Gatorade.

  Dr. Avery unfolded a topo map, and glanced up at Colbrick. “This is where we part ways,” he said.

  Bishop checked the map just to be sure, and nodded. He slapped Colbrick on the shoulder. “Sorry, old hoss,” he said.

  Yutu whimpered, and cocked his head at Angela and Bishop.

  “We’ll be back,” Bishop said, bending down to give the pooch a hug. Angela joined him, and then tossed Yutu a crunch bone treat, which the pooch snarfed down.

  Bishop held up a hand radio, and waved it at Colbrick. “When we give you the signal, pop that sucker on,” he said.

  “Will do,” Colbrick said.

  After twenty yards of putting Montana forest between himself and Colbrick, Bishop glanced back. Yutu sat at Colbrick’s side, looking up at him as he fumbled with the telemetry device.

  Bishop hoped that would not be the last time he saw them.

  Forest Road 319 (179 BPM)

  The intensity that compelled Angela and Bishop to move forward begun to mix with dread, and for a moment, Bishop wondered if his feet and legs had gotten heavier.

  Bishop stopped and scouted with binoculars. Road 319 came into view, betrayed by the obvious straight lines cut into the center of the forest. Even the ferns could not hide that.

  “We’re southeast of the gate where we met Werner last time,” Bishop said. “Which means we’re coming up to Quadrant 6. I assume there’ll be snipers, or perimeter patrols.”

  “It only makes sense,” Dr. Avery said.

  “Get down,” Angela whispered. “We’ve got company.”

  The group crouched in the ferns and watched. A pair of guards, perhaps the two they’d seen at the gate, walked on either side of Forest Road 319. The guard closest to Bishop stopped and placed a pair of binoculars to his eyes.

  “Down,” Bishop said, slamming Angela to the forest floor with him. In the turmoil, he could feel the guard’s eyes flaring out over him and into the woods beyond. Bishop waited and listened for footsteps, irritated that the sound of his own heart interfered with his senses. He took several deep breaths and closed his eyes. With his heart calmer, he listened for the tell-tale crunch of boots on twigs and pine needles.

  But it never came
.

  Slowly, Bishop pushed himself off the ground and peered over the ferns. The guards had moved on, and were almost out of sight now.

  “Come on,” Bishop whispered.

  Angela and Dr. Avery followed, as Bishop angled towards the road, away from the direction the guards had gone. Bishop’s worst fear was being spotted on a road no other guards were supposed to be on. On top of that bit of unpleasantness, there’d be clear sight lines should a sniper decide to pull the trigger.

  As the group crouched in ferns next to the road, Bishop spit away an unusually large spider, and glassed to the east and west with his binoculars.

  All clear.

  At least for now.

  “Let’s go,” he whispered as he sprung from the ferns and hurried across Forest Road 319, making sure to keep his head down. A moment later, the group was ensconced in forest, within the general vicinity of Quadrant 6.

  “We have to keep extra, extra quiet now,” Angela said. “They probably have sensors, maybe even remote cameras in here.”

  “I don’t know,” Dr. Avery said. “I’m not sure they’ve gone that far—”

  A buzzing sound emitted from the canopy to the southeast. Bishop glassed with his binoculars just in time to glimpse a camouflaged drone.

  “Get down,” Bishop whispered as he followed his own advice. He dropped to his knees and kept the binoculars to his eyes. The drone continued on its path to the northeast at a speed that contradicted surveillance activity in their specific area. A terrible thought hit Bishop, and he realized the drone might be heading for Colbrick.

  “Hey,” Bishop whispered to Dr. Avery as he kept glassing the drone. “Get Colbrick on the line.”

  Dr. Avery thumbed on his hand radio. “Colbrick,” he said into the device, “this is Dr. Avery. Can you hear me?”

  “Ayep,” Colbrick said.

  Relief washed over Bishop. It was good to hear his friend’s voice.

  Dr. Avery furrowed his brow: “I hope you haven’t activated the device yet, a drone is speeding your way right this moment.”

  “Uh…yeah…it’s already on,” Colbrick said through static.

  “Bad Colbrick,” Angela said as she swiped the radio from Dr. Avery. “You were supposed to wait.”

  “I got bored,” Colbrick said, “so I switched it on.”

  “Jesus,” Angela said. She turned to Bishop. “That’s why the drone—”

  The sound of boots crunching branches and twigs echoed through the forest. Angela thumbed the radio off, and slammed herself to the forest floor along with Bishop and Dr. Avery.

  “I’m so getting sick of this,” she whispered.

  Bishop allowed himself to briefly glimpse above the deadfall they’d obscured themselves in. A dozen and a half soldiers whisked through the forest, their rifles held out in front of them in we’re-not-screwing-around mode. They moved in a sweeping arc through the ferns, as if hunting an animal.

  Well, they are, Bishop thought. They were hunting his friend Colbrick.

  And Maybe Yutu.

  Bishop let himself slide back down into the cover, and whispered to Angela. “I know it’s horrible,” he said, “but so far the plan is working. Colbrick and Yutu are pulling guards out of the area.”

  “They’ll be on him in a half hour,” Angela said. “That’s all we have.”

  Bishop rose above the tangle of branches and peered across the forest. Even more soldiers materialized in the ferns, heading northeast towards Colbrick. A Jeep engine roared off in the distance, followed by several others, the engine notes eventually fading to the east.

  “Oh shit,” Bishop said.

  “Well,” Angela whispered, “this is exactly what we signed up for.”

  Bishop ducked once more, and tried to calm his speeding heart. The pungent odor of rotting forest surrounded him, reminding him of his own mortality.

  “You okay, babe?” Angela asked.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said.

  When the last footfall faded to the east, the group rose and headed west to Quadrant 6. Bishop wondered if they were all going to die.

  Maybe they were.

  Quadrant 6 (181 BPM)

  They peered out from a brush pile that had been cleared to improve sightlines around the compound’s perimeter.

  “Okay,” Bishop said. “ Now we walk casually, like we belong here.”

  Angela’s hands shook at her sides. “Ugh, I know I said before I like the intensity, but this…this is too much.”

  “Let’s go,” Bishop said.

  The group walked across the gravel lot, towards the enormous concrete dome and the glass buildings. They passed the camouflaged tents they’d seen earlier. Most of the tents, and the vehicle tents were empty. A few soldiers occupied folding desks, the kind you see at high schools. They tended to paperwork and equipment supplies.

  A hollow, guilty feeling consumed Bishop. His poor friend. He wished now he had kept Angela with Colbrick, and executed this mission with only Dr. Avery. But “wishing” was for suckers, and he always knew that. Men didn’t wish, they acted on what they had in the present.

  Using the metallic keycard, Dr. Avery accessed the first door in the research building. Bishop sighed as a blast of cool air hit his face. The faint click-click-click of shoe soles on tile echoed across the corridor, then faded. Several couches, a coffee table with a magazine spread, and a TV adorned the entryway, like the waiting room of a car dealership. Such an odd scene, Bishop thought, wondering what all this stuff was doing in his beloved national forest. Times had gotten weird. Too weird. The urge to purge the valley of all this nonsense boiled inside of him, and he found himself even more determined to complete the mission.

  “Follow me,” Dr. Avery said as they skirted past a small group of white-coated scientists towards the bathrooms.

  “Angela,” he said, “you can’t follow. You’ll have to take the ladies room, or wait outside.”

  Dr. Avery opened the men’s room door for Bishop, and they stood at the urinals whispering and pretending to piss.

  Dr. Avery pulled out his smart phone. “I just received a briefing from my employer,” he said. “They’ve coordinated with Colbrick in an effort to distract Quadrant 6 staff.” Dr. Avery held up the phone and shook it. “They’ve put in a call from the feds to Dr. Werner’s lab, indicating that another Vastus-like species has appeared forty miles northeast of here. All research personnel are required on scene, except for lab technicians.”

  Dr. Avery’s eyes grew wild as he pretended to hold his dick and piss. “It’s what they call Code 12.” Dr. Avery acted like he was zipping up his pants, and grinned. “This place will be a desert,” he said.

  Bishop sighed. He wasn’t so sure that was a good thing. A busy research facility would be easier to blend into. Now they’d stick out, with nowhere to hide.

  Dr. Avery dialed a number on his smart phone, and spoke in a hushed tone to whoever was on the other line. Bishop didn’t care for the secrecy, and it made him doubt Avery for a moment.

  Dr. Avery clicked his phone off, and turned to Bishop. “They’ve informed me the guards are closing in on Colbrick and the device,” he said.

  Hmmm… Bishop thought. More tiny red flags popped up in his mind. And then an enormous, billowing, giant red flag.

  “Whose drone?” he asked Dr. Avery as he jabbed a finger towards him.

  Dr. Avery stepped back and fidgeted. “It’s ours,” he said. “Natural Corrections.”

  “Damn,” Bishop said. He wanted to flee, to grab Angela and get the hell out of here, back to their ranch away from all the drama. This quickly morphed into a desire to punch Dr. Avery for his deceitful behavior.

  “Why?” Bishop asked.

  “We needed help,” Dr. Avery said. “And they provided.”

  “Where are the drone operators?” Bishop asked, trying his best to keep his voice calm.

  “There are two operators in the valley,” Dr. Avery said. “Very high-end technology.”

 
“What else aren’t you telling me?”

  “That’s it,” Dr. Avery said. “They’re just making sure we’re safe.”

  “Sure,” Bishop said. “Do you have the vials ready?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Dr. Avery said.

  Bishop felt naked without his .357, but he did still have a can of bear spray. There was no way they were getting into Quadrant 6 with .357s strapped to their sides, or slingshots hooked onto their belts. And Angela had wisely pointed out that unlawfully entering a facility weaponless was a lesser charge than if armed.

  “I’d love to debate this further, Dr. Avery, but we don’t have time.”

  Bishop left the bathroom, and saw Angela crack open the ladies’ room door. When she saw Bishop’s face, he tried to hide his disappointment.

  “What’s wrong?” she whispered.

  “Natural Corrections helped us,” Bishop said.

  “How?”

  “All that matters right now is that we get upstairs,” Bishop said.

  Dr. Avery hurried ahead of them towards the main staircase. When they reached the top, they encountered several red-carpeted hallways, each with its own key card scanner. Occasionally, a staff member passed them, and disappeared behind a door. Radio chattered blared from every room. Bishop walked with his chest out, trying to act like he belonged there. At the second to last key card scanner, before the hallway to the lab, the group huddled.

  “The guard,” Angela said. “We can’t all go up there.”

  “You’re right,” Dr. Avery said. “You’re going to be bait.”

  “Excuse me?” Angela said.

  “If it’s okay with your husband, of course.”

  “Spill, Dr. Avery,” Bishop said.

  Dr. Avery procured a tiny fold-up knife from his boot, and tore into Angela’s left pant near her ankle.

  “What the hell?” she said.

  “You were bitten by an invasive in the woods,” Dr. Avery said, holding out the knife towards Angela’s pale ankle.

  “They won’t buy it,” Angela said.

  “Yes, they will,” Dr. Avery said. “It’s congruent with what they’re hearing on their radios.”

  All sorts of thoughts raced through Bishop’s mind. Dr. Avery was a lot meaner than he’d thought, and a lot tougher. But he was right. Angela, limping and bleeding, would walk up to the guard and inform him she’d been bitten. She’d draw the guard away, and Dr. Avery would have access to the last key card scanner. Or so they hoped.

 

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