by Greig Beck
As the group scattered, something struck the ground wetly where they had been huddled. It bounced once, then lay lifeless in the dirt.
Alex could see it clearly in the moonlight. It was Chaco. His little body had been savaged, his throat torn out, leaving flaps of ragged skin and a small line of crushed cartilage. He looked unnaturally floppy, as if every one of his bones had been pulverised or removed.
Alex moved to stand between the mutilated body and Aimee and Saqueo. Sam didn’t say a word when he saw the body, simply crouched and scanned with his weapons the direction it had come from. Garmadia, however, threw up onto the dry soil.
He reached over to grasp Alex’s arm, his voice nearly hysterical. ’You must get us out of here immediately. This thing will kill us all. That is an order!’
When Alex didn’t acknowledge him, he tried again, half-turning towards Aimee so she could hear. ’I’m sure señorita Weir does not want this boy to share his brother’s fate.’
‘Keep Saqueo away,’ Alex told Aimee quickly.
Garmadia spoke again, but Alex’s brain refused to assemble the sounds into words. There was something circling them, at such speed that it seemed to be all around them at once. He looked down at the tiny, mutilated corpse and felt his body begin to shake as a red wave of anger washed over him.
He pushed the Paraguayan aside and stood with his legs planted wide apart, his face lifted to the air as though sniffing it. Where the fuck are you? He was boiling with frustration — he couldn’t fight what he couldn’t see.
Then he froze with indecision as he processed Garmadia’s attempted command. He’s right, we should leave. With the boy dead, the missing drill-site workers all obliterated, the reasons for being here had fallen away. He should get them out of the clearing and head for their rendezvous with the chopper. Time was against them.
His logical mind knew that, but there was another voice in him that demanded something different. It wanted the confrontation; it screamed for vengeance for the attacks on his people. It wanted him to take on González again; it wanted blood.
He still couldn’t move. What if he was killed? What chance would Sam have, let alone Aimee and the boys? They’d all be doomed. Perspiration beaded his brow, and he groaned as a wave of pain rippled from behind his eyes, up and over his forehead, then down his spine. Why can’t I decide? The decision should be easy.
Alex already knew the answer: the rage inside wouldn’t let him.
To the others, he would have seemed like a statue, silent and still as stone. But inside, he was already fighting; wrestling with his furies, pushing back their lust for destruction, even if only for a time.
We cannot stay!
He blinked and felt like he was breaking free of a slab of ice that had formed around his body.
He looked at Aimee. She had one hand on Saqueo’s back, keeping him flat on the ground, and in the other held the gun. She was looking directly at him and there was terror on her face.
‘We’re leaving,’ he said, and smiled at her.
She continued to stare at him, then started to speak, but her words stretched and her mouth moved so slowly. As he watched, the sensation of being just outside of time grew stronger. Aimee, Sam and Garmadia looked like they were in a movie that been set to slow play.
Then he realised that the world wasn’t slowing around him; he was speeding up. His heart rate had increased to over 400 beats per minute; his body had taken over. In the instant it took him to wonder why, the thing came at him from the jungle’s edge, crossing the thirty feet of clearing before he had a chance to turn.
He felt a blow to his head that was like an explosion; he actually saw stars, just like in a comic book. Something lifted him bodily and threw him backwards into the undergrowth, where he slammed sickeningly into a tree trunk.
González had arrived.
* * * *
Sam was only aware that they were being attacked when he heard the crash of Alex’s body striking the tree. He saw Garmadia on all fours, his movements unsteady, as though he’d been knocked to the ground and was suffering a concussion.
Sam spun quickly with the honed reflexes of a Special Forces operative, but where their opponent should have been, there was nothing. The man moved too quickly for them to engage him. Sam struck out time and again, but González disappeared and reappeared beside him as though materialising from the air. The tall priest smiled, and Sam saw the rows of needle-teeth shine wetly in the moonlight.
Sam brought his arm around towards the leering face, firing off a stream of frozen spikes, aiming to saw the black-clad figure in half. But González easily caught his arm and, with a brief jerk, pulled the gauntlet free and threw it deep into the foliage. With his other hand, he grasped Sam by the upper arm and lifted, flinging him backwards as though he were weightless.
Sam hit the ground hard, but managed to roll and come to his feet with his handgun pointed at the priest, who was standing over Aimee and Saqueo. The boy was curled into a foetal position. Just as Sam was about to fire, González’s attention was drawn to Captain Garmadia, who was staggering groggily from the clearing. Perhaps a fleeing prey was too attractive to ignore. González was a blur of dark movement as he scooped up Garmadia and returned with him to stand again over Aimee and Saqueo. The struggling captain cried out as the fingers that held him buried deeper into his flesh. With one hand, he tried to prise away the grip around his throat; the other brought his handgun up towards González’s face.
González smiled, and took hold of the captain’s arm at the elbow, almost gently. He looked down at Aimee and Saqueo, his mouth behind the red-streaked beard lifting as though in a smile, and jerked once on the arm. The bones of the clavicle splintered within the shoulder, and the large flat deltoid muscles tore free from the upper back and chest. The sickening sound made Sam grit his teeth.
Garmadia was silent, his mouth opening and closing in shock. The priest dropped him to the ground and watched as blood pulsed from the terrible wound, splashing like black oil onto the dry soil.
González looked down at Aimee and Saqueo again. As he reached for them, Sam charged, gun and knife raised.
He knew the advance was futile, but he hoped it would offer Aimee a few seconds’ diversion to try to flee into the jungle.
Just as before, the priest moved so quickly, it made Sam feel he was standing still. One minute the creature was kneeling over Aimee and the boy; the next, he had closed the few feet between them and held Sam in his grip.
González seemed to be enjoying himself. He nodded at Sam and smiled. Sam smiled back, determined not to show fear or pain. He knew that the human body could survive fifty per cent blood loss, removal of several organs and limbs, and blinding pain, but the real killer was shock. Sam gritted his teeth hard and prepared for the pain.
Steel-like fingers dug deep into the muscle of his upper arm and grated on the bone. The only thing that prevented them piercing flesh was the tough synthetic suit he wore - but Sam knew that wouldn’t hold for long.
Shots rang out from behind him: Aimee. Sam saw bullet holes pit the black-clad torso. They distracted González and he turned towards their source, giving Sam a few seconds. He’d dropped his sidearm, but was able to swing his blade up and into the nexus between the man’s neck and shoulder, deep into the trapezius muscle bunching. A good strike — fatal if deep enough, and certainly debilitating in combat.
González didn’t even flinch. His attention remained firmly on Aimee and the boy, as if he’d remembered what he really wanted all along.
Sam tugged the knife free. No blood spurted from the deep rent in the dead flesh. He drew his arm back again, this time planning to drive the laser-sharpened blade into the creature’s face. But, as if tiring of his antics, González shook him hard to disorient him, then, in a blur of strength and speed, threw him backwards like a discarded bag of trash.
As Sam hit the tree line, he regretted he hadn’t give Aimee her time. González hadn’t taken his eyes off her.
<
br /> * * * *
Alex burst from the undergrowth, enraged by the way the priest had knocked him aside so easily, causing him to leave those under his protection exposed. He was just in time to see Sam’s large body flung into the jungle as if it were weightless. Small-arms fire rang out, and he saw Aimee firing point-blank into the chest of this thing that looked like a man but wasn’t.
Alex raised one arm, pointing the gauntlet at the monster’s chest. González lifted Aimee and Saqueo, one in each hand, and held them close to his face and body. Alex didn’t know if he was shielding himself from the ice gun, or savouring the smell of their sweating flesh.
Almost faster than Alex’s eyes could follow, the priest was at the door of the small stone building. He looked back once over his shoulder, his dark eyes issuing a challenge, then vanished into the darkness beyond the opening. There was a deep grinding sound, and by the time Alex had made it to the top of the steps, a giant stone blocked the doorway. The priest was sealed inside — with Aimee and Saqueo.
* * * *
THIRTY-FIVE
A
lex struck the stone with his shoulder but it didn’t move.
He placed both hands against its surface and strained.
The granite block weighed many tons and resisted his herculean efforts. He examined it, wondering at its thickness and searching for points of weakness.
‘Boss.’ Sam had struggled back to his leader’s side. Abrasions covered one side of his face and his suit was torn to shreds, like Alex’s. He had recovered his ice gun from the jungle where the priest had thrown it.
‘We need a plan.’
‘I’ll get them out; don’t worry.’ Alex stepped back, preparing to charge at the block of stone again.
Sam repeated his words a little louder and grabbed hold of Alex’s arm. ‘Boss — we’ve got to have a plan. We just shot and stabbed at that thing and it still knocked us outta the park. It’s quicker and stronger than both of us.’
Alex didn’t answer; he just shook Sam’s hand off and threw himself at the granite. His body shuddered at the impact, but the stone remained in place. He stepped back, ready to continue hurling himself at the rock until he or it gave way. Aimee was trapped in there with that monster. He wouldn’t stop until he’d got her out.
* * * *
Sam knew that look on his leader’s face; that single-minded focus: it meant logic was seeping away and the rage was taking over. He also knew that with Aimee sealed off behind that stone, Alex’s only priority was to be in there as well. Nothing else mattered. But if Alex did manage to gain entrance, the priest would have him right where he wanted him. It would be sure suicide.
His mind jumped back to the private briefing the HAWC commander, Jack Hammerson, had given him before they left on this mission. Sam had sat in stunned silence while the Hammer told him about Alex’s medical history, the treatment that had saved his life, and how uncontrollable rages were now threatening his control over his enhanced abilities. He had also explained what lay in wait for Alex if he was ever delivered back to the Medical Division.
Hammerson had a task for Sam: to make sure Alex didn’t fall. If he did, and was disabled or couldn’t be quickly revived, then he was to be terminated. The HAWC commander was determined the Arcadian would never see the inside of a military hospital again, anywhere, anytime. It had taken Hammerson all afternoon to convince Sam to be Alex Hunter’s executioner should the need arise, but the thought of Alex ending up as so many slices of tissue in a test tube had finally convinced him. They had agreed on one concession, however: if the Arcadian’s full recovery was anticipated, and they could locate a safe place to conceal him, the termination would be deferred. They shook hands on it, both men knowing such a concession was potentially meaningless. In the twenty-first century, US surveillance technology meant there was no such thing as a safe place anymore.
This was exactly the type of situation Hammerson had explained to him, and Sam had feared, where the rage his leader suffered could push him beyond rationality and control. He would never be able to stop Alex physically, but he could at least try to persuade him to rethink actions that were plain suicidal — like the one he was attempting now.
‘Alex!’ Sam stepped in front of him.
Alex yelled in frustration, not even looking at him. ‘Move aside, soldier.’
Sam didn’t move; instead, he pushed hard into Alex’s chest. ‘What is the plan?’
‘To get her out!’ Alex roared, pushing back hard on Sam’s chest.
Sam’s entire 250-pound frame staggered back uncontrollably. He stepped forward again and grabbed Alex’s wrist.
‘What is the plan?’ he yelled into Alex’s face. ‘Arcadian — without a plan, she will die.’
Alex screamed and punched his free hand into the granite block beside Sam’s head. Sam felt stone chips strike the side of his face. Thank God the blow hadn’t been directed at his skull.
He yelled louder. ‘Arcadian - insertion, engagement, extraction. What is the plan?’
Alex blinked and shook his head, the words seeming to puncture the rage that had overtaken him. He rested his hand and forehead against the cool stone. Sam watched as the bones in his smashed hand slid around under the skin, lifting back into place. He recoiled slightly at his leader’s unnatural ability.
Alex stood straight and looked into Sam’s face. ‘She won’t die today.’
He seemed to have stepped back from the abyss of fury, but Sam could see his eyes still burned with an intensity that bordered on the insane.
He said quietly, ‘No, boss, she won’t die today. Now, what’s the plan?’
Alex’s eyes bored into Sam. ’The plan? I’ll take González; you get Aimee and the boy out of there and head to the rendezvous point. If anything goes wrong, you will not wait for me. Clear?’
Sam looked at Alex for a long moment, then shrugged. That was probably as good as he was going to get right now. He rested his hand on his recovered sidearm. ‘All right, boss — let’s get ‘em out of there.’
* * * *
THIRTY-SIX
A
imee kept one arm around Saqueo and held the other over her lower face. The stench in the dark, airless space was almost a living thing.
González had thrown them roughly to the ground as soon as they stepped through the doorway, and then moved back to slide a huge granite block across the opening. She shivered, remembering the ease with which he had moved the stone. She only knew one other man that might have been capable of performing such a feat, and he was now locked on the other side of the rock.
When González had secured the doorway, he had also shut out the last faint traces of light; the darkness was now absolute. Aimee held her breath and willed her heartbeat to slow. González had not returned to them, and she guessed he was waiting for Alex to try to enter. She had no doubt that he could see them; from time to time, she felt a chill run across her neck and knew he was casting his gaze in her direction.
Aimee had no weapons, bar one — her intellect. Perhaps she could reason with him, negotiate. Or at least slow him down and buy Alex some time.
‘Padre?’ Her voice sounded tiny, like that of the little girl who used to cry when her hair was pulled by the boy next door over twenty-five years ago. She tried again. ’Padre? Are you there?’
The reply was a roar — so close and so agonisingly loud that she found herself screaming in terror and pain. A charnel-house odour washed over her — the hot breath of some carnivorous beast. She tried hard not to retch.
Beside her, she felt Saqueo tremble, and he pressed his face into her side. Please hurry, Alex, she wished into the darkness.
* * * *
When Alex heard the roar and Aimee’s muffled scream, his vision blurred with fury. His lips drew back and he bared his teeth.
Sam turned and said something, but Alex didn’t hear. Everything around him had disappeared the moment Aimee had cried out. Once more, he placed his hands against the stone and pu
shed. Nothing. He ground his teeth and strained, the muscles across his back and shoulders screaming from the exertion. The stone moved a half-inch, but when he adjusted his grip, it grated back into place.
He’s pushing back — he knows I can open it. The realisation gave Alex a surge of confidence. I can get in, and then I will destroy you! he silently screamed.
Unexpectedly, a voice answered him. Yes, come. And we will consume you, as we will every living thing in this world.
Cold washed through Alex’s mind and rocked him momentarily. He took his hands off the stone and stared hard at its grey surface. He frowned and pushed his mind out once again. What are you?
