by Greig Beck
“Follow my lead, bow your head, and do not look at the Father unless he asks you to.”
Tania nodded jerkily and stepped forward on stiff legs. The huge familiar figure was already waiting for them. The cowl pulled over the large head was a portal into utter darkness. The Father beckoned them to the ground before him, and Charles immediately went to his knees. Tania followed.
“Charles, you have done well.” The Father looked down at Tania. “And Captain Tania Kovitz, you have something for me.”
Tania kept her head down, nodded, and held out the Book. A priest came and took it from her, and disappeared back into the shadows. Drummond didn’t even know the man was there, and it made him wonder who or what else was lurking in those darker alcoves, watching them.
The Father held forth his hand to Tania, and she stayed still unmoving, not knowing what was expected of her.
Drummond felt his irritation rise at her inexperience, and he hoped the Father wasn’t as insulted as he was. “Kiss it, you stupid bitch. Show your obedience.”
Tania’s head came up, and she saw the hand for the first time. Drummond heard her rapid intake of breath, and he smiled. The hand was a mottled greenish-black with lumps and protrusions all over the boneless-looking fingers. Tania reached out slowly, and Drummond could see her own hand shook – the Father’s beauty was not for everyone.
Her head started to tilt upward, slowly, jerkily, her eyes rounder than he thought possible. Hold yourself with dignity, he prayed.
The woman’s mouth opened wide in a silent scream, and he saw her tongue retreat to the back of her throat. The Father leaned forward and she now looked directly into his face. The dark folds of the cowl rippled as things inside the hood coiled, writhed and twisted, like some many-legged sea creature moving in agitation.
Drummond watched from the corner of his eye, becoming tense, as it looked for a moment she might snatch her own hand away. But instead, the Father’s hand continued to reach out, those long boneless fingers extending, impossibly long, and coiling around her wrist and forearm. She looked down in horror at first, and then pain, as the sting began. Drummond saw the skin on her wrist redden.
“I…am…your servant,” Tania hissed between tight lips and gritted teeth.
“Yes, you are. And you will be forever.” The voice was watery, bubbling, made by a tongue and vocal chords not meant for surface speech. The grip tightened and the skin on her wrist began to blacken.
Tania’s resolve snapped and she began to scream, a long siren sound that rose in pitch and intensity. Before the noise became unbearable, there came explosive movement from under the cowl. Black whipping tendrils shot out to wrap around her head and neck, holding her tight, and dragging her closer.
Charles got to his feet and backed up a step. He’d never seen this before, and felt his own fear tingle his spine. The masses of rubbery strands, pipes and limbs forced themselves into her mouth, nose, ears, and ripped away her clothing to find other egress into her pale body. She seemed to swell, and angry red fissures opened all over her as if her insides were growing too large for the delicate outer sheath of her skin.
Then, to Charles’s horror, she just burst apart – she didn’t explode, exactly. It was as if her outer shell were violently cast off. The discarded bits of her face, head and body flew to the corners of the room, and then she, it, stood there, bloated, glistening black, and her once-beautiful blue eyes were still there, but now many more formed and popped open. They slid along her bulging body and its ever-sprouting multiple limbs – some human arms, some whipping tentacles or crab-like claws. Just as quickly as she had become the grotesque thing, she began to reform back into a Tania shape. A few shards of her former self still hung wetly to the new, false pink skin.
The Father released what had been Tania, and said words to her that were in a language Drummond had no hope of understanding or ever being able to form with his own primitive tongue. Tania stood next to the Father, naked, and glistening as if coated in oil.
Drummond felt his mouth go dry. Years ago, he had been asked to serve the Father, and in return for saying yes he had been rewarded with immense wealth and power. Further, he had been promised he would be a king among the remaining peoples of Earth, after the Great Old One arose. Now he wondered whether his final reward might in fact be something far different.
“Charles.” The voice bubbled up again. “The great Old One will soon breach the weak skin of this world. But first a human must say the words to break the final seal.” The Father lifted his boneless hands once more, palms up; his head tilted back as he seemed to look up through the ceiling above them. “I can feel it now, the pull of all the planets; the gates will open.”
The hands dropped, and the Father glided backward toward the rear of the room. “Stay with us Charles. We need you, and need to protect you…our future king.”
Charles could have sworn he heard a sound like a wet laugh, but was more concerned about not being able to leave. Tania remained where she, it, was, and two of the priests appeared and murmured something to her; she nodded and then looked at him.
Charles knew now what the priests were, what everyone in this place was: vile Shoggoths, the mindless protoplasmic beings that lived to feed the Great One, and themselves. They need me to utter the last incantation, but then, how long will I remain human? he wondered. A sudden wave of fear rippled through his gut, making him feel lightheaded. He pushed it down, straightening his spine. They want me to rule over what is left of the human race…and I will rule. He swallowed, his mouth dust dry.
The priests came over and motioned for Charles to follow him – down. Tania followed.
*
Outskirts of Franklin, Kentucky.
Hours passed, and Adira still drove hard. She had left the Interstate 85 Highway long back, skirted Atlanta and Birmingham, and now was roaring up the 65. She drove as if their lives meant nothing, and Matt wondered what would happen if a local cop decided to try and pull her over.
Andy was in the back, his head now resting on the seat, and he watched the blurred scenery speed by as if in a trance. Matt looked down at the woman’s waist – she had two guns strapped to her front.
“I assume negotiated diplomacy is going to be done Mossad style?” he asked.
“There will be no negotiation.” She smiled humorlessly as she drove. “As soon as Charles Drummond ordered my colleague killed, he signed his own death warrant. While he talks, he can live.” Her face became hard again. “And then he dies.”
“Franklin,” Andy said. “Coming up.”
Adira nodded, and slowed for a moment to look down at a small box in her lap. She grunted, and looked back to the road. “Not far now.”
“What? You’re tracking him…how?” Matt tried to see the device she was using.
“Not him,” Adira responded, looking at the device one last time and then stuffing it back into her top pocket.
“The Book, you’re tracking the Book. Of course; when you made a grab at it in the hotel room.” He shook his head. “You could have been killed.”
She looked at him, her smile flat. “But I wasn’t, and it was a worthwhile risk.”
Andy cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to rain on any parades, but we should tell Major Abrams where we are. We’re not exactly the Seventh Fleet, are we? We need backup.” He sat forward. “Matt, we need backup.”
“Yeah.” Matt turned to Adira. “He’s right, you know. If you’ve got a lead, you must share it. We can’t afford for Drummond to get away. And I’m sure the major would love the opportunity to bring Tania, ah, Captain Kovitz, in.”
She kept her eyes on the road. “If I see Captain Kovitz, I will kill her.”
“Whoa, whoa there. This is America you’re in now.” Andy leaned further over the seat back, his face twisted. “For all we know, she might have been brainwashed or blackmailed into helping Drummond. So none of this shoot first crap, okay?”
“Then you keep her out of my way, Mr Bennet
. For believe me, if she even looks like she might be a threat, I will put her down.” She half turned. “As for Drummond, I will just need a few minutes alone with him…and I don’t need backup.”
“Great.” Matt exhaled between compressed lips. “And then we can call in the major? I mean, when you’ve had your minute.”
“He can have what’s left.” Her smile was devoid of any humor. “When you call him.”
Matt felt a dawning realization. “Oh Christ; you’re not even supposed to still be here, are you?”
She turned briefly and smiled. “I don’t think any of us are supposed to be here, do you, Professor?”
Chapter 20
Westerville, Ohio
Billy Jenkins turned into State Street from Lincoln, and breathed a sigh of relief. Creepy as all shit, is how he was planning to describe it later to his friends at the Mall. He pedaled harder; still a few papers left to toss, and then back to the shop for his pay. His mom had told him they were all grounded, but today was payday, and hell if he wasn’t gonna get his money.
He took a corner, sharp, and frowned as he remembered the blocks of tomb-quiet streets he had just left behind – the usually friendly residents weren’t out and about like they shoulda been. This was a midday delivery, and he should have seen people walking dogs, jogging, hosing lawns or washing cars – it was summer: people were outside in summer.
Not today. Today, the few people he did see, stood still as sticks just inside their houses, standing behind windows, or at doors half cracked open, just…staring at him. And they were all wet, as if they’d just stepped out of dirty showers. And what was with the clothes? Most just wore rags, like they’d been in a freakin bomb blast or sumthin, their shredded clothing just hanging on their oily bodies.
Just up ahead was Krozer’s Groceries, and he quickly lifted his arm to check his watch – he had time to grab a quick choc-mint shake before finishing up his run. He turned into the store parking lot, and had rolled toward the front door, coming to a stop next to a power pole he was going to prop his bike against, when he froze.
Billy stared, his brow creasing as he tried to understand what he was seeing – inside the store there was a maelstrom of chaos and confusion. Shelves were tipped over and the dozen or so people inside – checkout guys and girls and customers alike, were all stuck in something. The thick, soundproof glass out front stopped any noise escaping, and the electronic doors were shut, but he could see there was some sort of black ropey stuff all over them, and they were immobilized, like they were trapped in a web thingy…but a living web thingy. The coils were wrapped tight around arms, necks, legs and waists, and it was slowly dragging everyone toward the rear of the store, where Billy knew was the entrance to the cellar’s coolroom.
Fishing – they’re all in a fishnet – caught, was what came to mind as he stared with his mouth gaping.
The black stuff tugged again, and they were all dragged another few feet. The faces of the trapped were terrible – all screwed up in pure horror. He wheeled his bike a few feet closer to the glass and saw Mrs Hornsby, Jake Hornsby’s mother, extend a hand to him, as though trying to reach for him. Her mouth was almost a perfect circle: she was probably screaming her lungs up. Just then, another black length of wet rope lashed around her free arm, and then the net was jerked some more.
Billy started to back up. One by one all the people disappeared between the fallen shelves toward the entrance to the cellar.
Krozer’s Groceries was finally still. Billy looked around – the carpark was empty, and he wondered what he should do. Just then the electronic doors pinged, and one of the slimy bits of black rope started to creep out into the carpark.
Billy dragged his bike around and jumped down hard on the pedal. He rode and rode hard – fuck the shake, fuck the paper-run, fuck his pay, he was going home.
*
Abrams watched Decker as he took the call he was waiting on from the Secretary of Defense. The general gathered a few notes and then snatched up the phone, his face grim. The greeting was short and pleasantries near nonexistent.
“Yes, ma’am, whole towns are now off the grid – everyone gone.” Decker’s eyes flicked down to read the reports, and then came up to stare into the distance.
Abrams could see the frustration in the older man by the way his jaws clenched, and answers became shorter and sharper.
“No, ma’am – no, ma’am – unlikely, ma’am – no, ma’am.” Decker exhaled and turned to shake his head at Abrams. “Begging your pardon, ma’am, though we believe these things have a base intelligence, they couldn’t give a hoot in hell for negotiation with us. I can’t tell you what else they want right now, other than what they’re taking – us. It seems we –”
Decker’s fingers tightened on the phone. “For meat; they want us as meat, or they want us to become like them. We’ve shot some of them so full of holes you’d think they were Swiss cheese, but they don’t go down. We’ve burned them, crushed them and blown them to bits – then the damned bits just disappear into the ground – we’re not sure they were dead even then.”
Decker closed his eyes. “We’re still working on that, ma’am. We’ve got just about every military laboratory involved in weapon research, but so far we have a single one in containment, and the others are evading capture for testing.”
He moved around his desk, and tilted his screen back. He then called up a live feed from the deep containment cells. Abrams saw the general’s jaws clench and knew the man was feeling the same revulsion and anger that he did when seeing the creature.
The cell now looked like the inside of an abattoir; its surface streaked with blood, mucus and other body fluids torn and spattered from the animals that had been pushed inside.
The Shoggoth had drawn itself back into the Harry Wilcox shape and stood passively in the center of the room, its wet nakedness incongruous in the red mess of once-living creatures that surrounded it. The thing was a marvel, a perfect copy of the man it had been, except for one thing; two of its eyes were fixed on the glass panel in front of it, and there was also another eye, perfectly formed, on the side of its head, that kept an unblinking watch on the sliding door.
Ever hungry, Abrams thought, with a twist of nausea in his belly.
“Fucking monster,” Decker whispered with enough hate written deep into his features that Abrams bet he wanted to walk in and try and tear the thing to pieces with his bare hands.
He pushed the screen away as the Secretary of Defense’s voice lifted from the handset once again.
“That is the only option we think has a chance of success,” Decker said, his voice low. “We’ve initiated convoys and airlifts of the Kentucky population. We’ll move mountains to get as many men, women and children out.” Decker exhaled slowly. “We don’t have much time, and that’s why I need the Presidential authorization. If we’re having trouble with things that are only a few times our size, what happens when a monstrosity breaks through that’s the size of a mountain? He looked at his watch. “We lose Kentucky or we lose the planet; in about ten hours. Ma’am, I need the President to approve the B83 burn, now.”
Abrams leaned in a little closer, but heard nothing – the Secretary of Defense had gone quiet. Finally there was a few final words spoken, and Decker nodded.
“Yes, ma’am, I hope it won’t come to that either.” He hung up and turned to Abrams.
“She’ll seek immediate authorization. However, COOP is being enacted, and I’ve been requested to join them.”
Abrams knew what the initiative was – in times of significant threat from any sphere, be that biological, geological, or military, the government must be able to continue to function. COOP was this perpetuation plan, and stood for Continuity Of OPerations – all senior White House officials and military heads would be gathered in the massive underground city deep within Mount Weather in Virginia. It was basically a hollowed-out mountain, hermetically sealed, and designed to withstand anything nature or humankind could throw a
t it.
Abrams knew, however, that what they were facing was neither natural nor the result of any human endeavor.
Decker looked up at the tall major. “I will refuse the request to join them. Joshua, we need to find something, anything we can use against these goddamn things.”
The phone buzzed again and Decker lifted it and barked into the receiver. “What?” He gritted his teeth and listened for a second, shaking his head. “This just keeps getting better.” He handed it to Abrams and then walked to the window with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Major Abrams here.” He listened, and couldn’t help groaning when he heard that the police guards stationed to watch over Adira Senesh had been found bound and gagged. “Thank you.” He hung up, and Decker turned to him, his expression flat.
“She’s gone,” Abrams said.
The general grunted. “I don’t care. We’ve got enough on our plates without having to worry about a single Mossad agent on the loose.” Decker turned back to the windows.
Abrams stood, thinking through what it meant: the woman had been free for hours. What would she do, where would she go? he wondered.
A thought struck him like a thunderbolt, and he snatched up the phone, dialing the front gate.
“Major Abrams here; has Professor Kearns left the camp?” He closed his eyes, knowing the answer before it was even spoken.
“God-damnit-alltohell.” He turned to General Decker, who was already watching him from under lowered brows.
“So, looks like we should care after all,” the general said with a humorless smile.
Abrams nodded. “She’s on the road, and I believe she now has Matt Kearns with her.”
“What?” Decker’s face drained of color.
“And I think she’s going for Drummond,” Abrams responded.
“Not until we’ve finished with him.” Decker’s face went a shade redder. “Find them…we find her, we find them all.”
