Vapor

by David Meyer

I shifted my gaze just long enough to stare at the curving walls. LED lamps, their wires stringing back to the generators, were mounted every few feet. Some still worked. Others had gone dark.

  Questions zinged through my brain as I ran forward. Surprisingly, they had nothing to do with Simona or Eco-Trek. Rather, I found myself questioning the tubes. Why had the Japanese military spent so much time fortifying them with concrete? Did the tubes connect in other places besides the manmade cavern? What had been their original purpose?

  The tube curved to the west. Water splashed over the tops of my boots. It was at least a foot deep and rising quickly.

  I ran faster.

  A large ramp appeared, sloping gently toward the surface. At the other end of the ramp, I saw a bit of slanting light.

  Pistol at the ready, I darted up the ramp. A large metal plate—presumably the other side of the hatch—rested above me. Taking a deep breath, I clutched a thick metal handle. “Let’s hope this works.”

  I turned the handle. Metal clanked. Clicking noises rang out as the hatch rose into a vertical position.

  I peered outside. A gust of hot wind struck my face. Squinting, I shifted my goggles into position.

  The familiar stone-lined trail lay ahead of me. Keeping an eye out for guards, I hoisted myself to the surface.

  While the others climbed out of the tube, I headed down the trail. Pagan Bay came into view. In the distance, I saw three people—Simona and two younger women—and two SUVs. The two women were already situated in one of the vehicles. Simona was walking toward it, heading for the passenger seat. Since the rest of the area looked clear, I assumed the second SUV was intended for the guards we’d killed outside the lab.

  Their loss. Our gain.

  Simona cast a quick glimpse at the hillside. Her eyes widened as she spotted us. She started for the second SUV.

  I lifted my pistol. Squeezed the trigger. Unleashed a barrage of bullets.

  Her arms flailed as she backpedaled. She retreated to the first SUV. Seconds later, it zipped forward, careening toward the research station.

  I shifted my pistol. Tried to draw a bead on the vehicle. But it was moving far too fast. Exhaling, I holstered the gun.

  Damn it.

  “Wow.” Graham recoiled. “What the hell are those?”

  I followed his gaze back to Pagan Bay. My jaw dropped.

  Dust spun in the air. Only this time, the spinning wasn’t random chaos. Instead, the particles had joined together, forming dozens of mini tornados.

  Dust devils.

  I’d seen dust devils before, but never at close range. Fortunately, the ones before me were small, measuring just a few feet wide.

  Following the trail, we descended toward Pagan Bay. The path was steep and it took us a few minutes to traverse it. At the bottom, I scanned the bay for additional guards. But I didn’t see anyone.

  Silently, I started toward the remaining SUV.

  Graham grabbed my arm. “That’s not a good idea.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “Simona’s people will see us coming.”

  “They already know we’re coming. At least we can—”

  A sharp hissing rang in my ears. A pair of red lights shone in the darkness, blinking haphazardly, with no discernible pattern.

  Metal crunched as the Grueler tore past—tore into—the SUV. It gave way and the Grueler appeared before us.

  My heart raced. Not because of the lost SUV. But because the Grueler stood on the pavement, utterly oblivious to the stones it had crossed.

  “Simona must’ve turned off the fence.” I removed the goggles from my eyes and glanced at Graham. “Take Carrie and get to the research station. Shut this place down, no matter what it takes.”

  “What about you guys?”

  “Don’t worry about us.” I backed up a few steps. “Just run!”

  Chapter 85

  The dust devils shifted back and forth, side to side. They grew larger, more ferocious. Then they broke free and began to shoot off in all directions.

  A large dust devil expanded rapidly, growing to thirty feet in diameter. It started toward us, hot on the trail of several smaller dust devils. They blew at the Grueler, slashing at its metallic sides, and drowning out its hydraulics.

  The Grueler broke into a run. Graham and Carrie backed toward the bay. Beverly and I waited a few seconds, making sure it was focused on us. Then we twisted around.

  And ran for our lives.

  The dust devils drew closer as we retreated up the hill and darted into the forest. Behind me, I heard crunching wood and clicking claws. Twisting my neck, I saw the Grueler barrel between two mid-sized trees. Their thin trunks shattered from the force and they toppled over, crashing to the ground.

  My first instinct was to head for the hatch. But I didn’t know if we could get it closed in time. And even if we managed to do so, we’d still have to contend with the floodwaters.

  I glanced at Beverly. “Split up!”

  Immediately, she angled off to the northeast and sprinted through a different section of forest.

  My brain raced. We couldn’t run forever. Eventually, we’d have to fight it. But how? Our bullets and my blade would just bounce off its metal casing. Meanwhile, it would carve us to bits.

  Glancing back, I saw the Grueler, framed in the giant dust devil, charging after me.

  It’s a killing machine.

  I veered toward some tall rocks. They rose up before me, but the darkness obscured their details.

  The air sparked with electricity. The Grueler hissed loudly. Its claws pounded against dirt as it closed the gap.

  Hot air pressed against my neck. Dirt struck the backs of my pants.

  My adrenaline increased. I ran faster than I knew possible, faster than my body could even control. One wrong step and I’d have no chance to recover. I’d crash to the ground and the Grueler would deal the deathblow.

  As I neared the rocks, I saw crags and nooks. None of them were big enough to hide me.

  Can’t beat it, can’t outrun it.

  The air grew hotter, more oppressive. I could scarcely breathe.

  From past experience, I knew only one way to throw the Grueler off my trail. As I reached the rocks, I veered again, this time to the east. Then I doubled back. The Grueler tried to twist around, but once again it reacted too slowly. Scrabbling frantically at the ground, it slid along the soft surface. One second later, it slammed into the rocks. Debris shot into the gloomy sky and was quickly entrapped in the smaller dust devils. Large pieces of rock crumbled away. They collapsed in a heap, burying the metal monster. The hissing noise died off.

  Thank God.

  The air buzzed. The buzzing picked up volume until it sounded like a dozen chainsaws, operating all at once.

  The heap of rocks trembled. The trembling turned to quaking.

  My chest cinched tight. I knew I needed to keep running. But I couldn’t move a muscle.

  Abruptly, the pile exploded. Small rocks shot to the sides as the Grueler climbed to its feet. Its closest head twisted toward me.

  Damn it.

  I sprinted northeast. The creature raced after me, moving much faster than I remembered. Tree branches splintered and shattered. Claws struck the dirt evenly and neatly, with no sounds of slippage.

  What now?

  I ran up a small hill. My feet slipped at the top and I allowed myself to slide into a shallow ditch filled with soft dirt. Looking back, I saw the Grueler reach the top of the hill. Even though it lacked eyes, its glowing red lights still felt like they were staring at me.

  Metal creaked. The hissing stung my ears.

  Then the Grueler raced toward me.

  I darted out of the ditch. The beast crashed into the soft dirt and charged after me. But the soil slowed it by a considerable margin.

  Dust devils continued to rage. The wind shifted and dirt particles began to assault me at an angle. As I ran up another hill, my mind raced.

  How does it work? />
  The Grueler was highly dangerous. It combined the strengths of robotics and predators with few, if any, of their attending weaknesses.

  But if I wanted to survive, I had to stop thinking of the Grueler as the perfect machine. Instead, I needed to figure it out, to understand it. Only then would I be able to defeat it.

  I heard faint footsteps above the hissing. Looking east, I saw Beverly’s feminine figure running through the woods. She moved quickly, gracefully.

  The Grueler hesitated. Then it angled itself eastward. It ran after Beverly for a few seconds. Then it ran westward again. It proceeded to run back and forth, switching its focus between us.

  It can’t decide.

  I racked my brain. How was the Grueler tracking us? Surely, the dust devils obscured auditory and visual clues.

  Body heat?

  I thought back to our first encounter with the Grueler. It had lost interest in us once we’d entered the crevice. Maybe that was because the rocks blocked our body heat.

  It’s just a robot.

  My brain went into overdrive. The Grueler was a machine, subject to programming. And at that moment, its programming was causing it to chase after both Beverly and I. Swiftly, I remembered other things I’d noticed about the Grueler. Maybe we couldn’t outrun it. Maybe we couldn’t beat it in a fair battle.

  But we could outthink it.

  Chapter 86

  “I see the vehicles,” Carrie whispered. “But no guards.”

  Graham leaned out from behind the tree. The hiding spot afforded them a good view of the station and the runway.

  Shielding his one good eye, Graham looked at the loading bay. The large doors were wide open. The interior was pitch black, a near perfect contrast to the blinding spotlights. Numerous SUVs and trucks sat next to the loading bay. Their engines and headlights had been turned off.

  Twisting his hips, he looked toward the runway. Spotlights danced on the pavement, illuminating a strange, bulky object. “I think that’s a body,” he said. “Keep low and follow me.”

  Gun in hand, Graham slipped out from behind the tree. He hurried to the research station and worked his way to the hangar side of it. A quick look confirmed the large gate was closed.

  He darted onto the runway. After a short jog, he pulled up and inhaled a long, slow breath. Bodies, maybe a dozen of them, lay scattered up and down the edges of the pavement. They looked a bit like angels, thanks to the glare of the spotlights. But their clenched jaws and blood-splattered clothes ruined the illusion.

  Most of the corpses were far away from him. But one was relatively close. He crept to it. It belonged to a young man, no more than thirty years old. The man’s face was freshly-shaven and his skin was unwrinkled. He wore black clothes and black boots. Black greasepaint was smeared across parts of his visage.

  “Severed limbs and carved-up bodies.” Carrie winced. “This is definitely the Grueler’s work.”

  “Simona said something about soldiers.” Graham exhaled. “Looks like these ones didn’t make it.”

  Carrie looked around. “The runway is lined with stones. She must’ve disabled the electric fences here too.”

  “And probably put them back up again once the Grueler was done.” Graham felt the earth rumble beneath him. Furrowing his brow, he recalled the flooding tunnels. “Okay, let’s get—”

  “Freeze.”

  Graham whirled around. A man stood about ten feet away, outside the range of spotlights and shrouded by blowing dust. He was big and powerfully built. A pistol was clutched in one of his hands.

  “Drop the gun.” The man aimed the pistol at Graham’s face. “Or die.”

  Chapter 87

  “You’re dressed like him.” Still holding his pistol, Graham nodded at the corpse. “One of yours?”

  The man’s gun didn’t waver. “Names?”

  “Carrie Cooper.”

  “Dutch Graham.”

  “Dutch Graham?” He cocked his head. “I used to read about a guy named Dutch Graham when I was a kid. He was this crazy explorer. Always getting in and out of trouble.”

  Graham chuckled.

  “It’s really you?” The man stepped forward. His eyes scanned Graham from head to toe. “It is you. What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Getting into trouble.”

  The man exhaled. Then he holstered his gun.

  “Who are you?” Carrie asked.

  “Special Agent Ed Hooper,” he replied. “I’m with the Secret Service.”

  “Secret Service?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Are you here to shut down Eco-Trek?”

  “That was the plan.” Hooper’s gaze flitted to the corpses. “Unfortunately, we weren’t prepared for a robotic guard dog.”

  “Yeah, neither were we.” Graham took a deep breath. “Did anyone else make it?”

  “Nope. Just me.” He exhaled. “That thing almost got me, too. All of a sudden, it just retreated.”

  “We could use your help.”

  Hooper arched an eyebrow.

  “We don’t have much time. But Simona Wolcott is planning to use her drones to kill a lot of people. We’re going to stop her.”

  “Just the two of you?”

  “There are two others.” Graham’s jaw hardened as he recalled the Grueler chasing his friends. “They’re coming.”

  Hooper stared at Graham and Carrie for a moment. “What’s the plan?”

  “We’re going to sneak into Simona’s office and access her computer. Hopefully, we can divert her planes.”

  He nodded. “Lead the way.”

  Getting low, Carrie made a beeline back to the research station. Hooper and Graham followed at a short distance. They ran around the building, stopping just outside the loading bay.

  The doors were open. Graham squinted, trying to see into the interior. But the darkness, combined with the exterior spotlights, thwarted his efforts.

  They ran up a ramp and slid inside the building. Faint voices and the sounds of machinery rang out, coming from the hangar’s direction.

  Carrie led them through a few corridors and then into a dark stairwell. As he ascended the steps, sweat beaded up on Graham’s hands. His heart pounded against his chest. His trigger finger twitched and twitched again.

  At the top of the stairs, they paused. Hooper did a quick check and confirmed the floor was clear. Evidently, Eco-Trek’s entire staff was in the hangar preparing for the upcoming flights.

  They crept down a familiar hallway, crossed Simona’s reception area, and entered her office. While Hooper kept an eye on the door, Graham hurried to the desk. Within seconds, he was hunched at the waist, his fingers flying across the keyboard, punching keys in endless patterns.

  Carrie watched him for a few minutes. Finally, she cleared her throat. “How long will this take?”

  “Five minutes? Five hours?” Graham shrugged. “How the hell should I know?”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be a computer expert?”

  “I’m the best Salvage Force has to offer.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  He gave her a grim smile. “There are only three of us.”

  Even as Graham worked, he doubted his efforts. His odds of diverting the drones were incredibly low. He stood a better chance of disabling the model. But that would only have a temporary impact. Eventually, Simona would fix it. The planes would head for the sky.

  The high-tech version of the Black Death would commence.

  “Okay,” he said a few minutes later. “I’m in.”

  “What exactly are you doing?” Carrie asked.

  “I’m reprogramming the drones, changing their routes. I’m directing them toward the ocean, as far away from land as possible.”

  “What about collateral damage?”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “What happens when Miasma aerosols hit the water? They might kill fish for miles.”

  He paused in mid-keystroke. “Would you rather they k
illed people?”

  “Not really,” she admitted.

  He returned to his work. Then he lowered his face to the computer until his nose was practically touching the screen. “Uh, oh.”

  “Uh, oh?” Hooper peered into the office. “What’s wrong?”

  “Someone’s overriding my changes.”

  “Simona.” Carrie clenched her fists. “Can you stop her?”

  “Maybe.” He began frantically pounding away on the keyboard. Then he slammed his fists on the desk. “Damn it.”

  Hooper’s jaw hardened. “I take it that’s a no.”

  “I’m completely shut out of the system.” He shook his head. “It looks like Simona has commandeered her model from another location.”

  “But what about the drones?” Carrie asked. “What about the new Black Death?”

  His shoulders sagged. “I can’t stop it.”

  Chapter 88

  “Beverly.” I sprinted between two thick tree trunks. “Keep your distance, but follow my lead.”

  She flashed me a nod and kept running. I hustled northeast, searching for another patch of soft dirt. After a brief run, I swung to the east. Beverly followed suit.

  The massive dust devil whirled to the west. The wind died off and I saw something promising.

  My boots pounded against the soil as I raced toward a deep pit. “You take the right,” I shouted. “I’ll take the left.”

  Beverly nodded. With a sudden burst of speed, she shifted out a few feet and ran alongside the pit. As I ran along the opposite side, I glanced over my shoulder.

  The Grueler, surrounded by flying dust, galloped after us. Its metal appeared orange in the darkness. Its hydraulics had risen to unbearable decibels.

  It ran into the pit. Its metal legs churned. Its massive bulk surged forward and it began to slice through the soft soil.

  I ran to the far end. Inhaling deeply, I watched the metal beast make its way toward the middle of the pit. Its legs moved quickly, easily.

  Dirt squelched. Metal squealed.

  The Grueler’s movements slowed as its legs slipped deeper into the loose dirt and dust. But it kept moving toward us.

  My brain raced. I had no backup plan, no other ideas. If the pit didn’t stop the creature, we’d be forced to keep running.