by Matt James
Logan took the weapon, hefting the fourteen-pound beast, inspecting the futuristic looking grenade launcher. “A little heavy, don’t you think?”
Fitz only shrugged. “Normally, I wouldn’t recommend carrying such a bundle, but considering what we’re going up against…”
He didn’t need to finish, Logan understood. This wasn’t your normal everyday situation. They need to bring out the heaviest of the heavy and get this thing under control. The only problem was that he still had no idea how to do that. He feared it would be a large-scale invasion on every living thing in the Serengeti. Animals and people would become the hunted, and in other cases…the hunters. Some would be killed—maybe all of them if this pandemic kept consuming everything it touched.
“Ten minutes out!” Mo shouted from the front.
“Right,” Logan said, “let’s do this.”
Both he and Fitz stood and prepped the twin lines, one on each side of the Blackhawk. They would then quickly throw open the bird’s doors and leap out into the night sky. If Mo did his job like he always did, the two men would practically land atop the vehicle they sought.
Better be worth it, Logan thought, starting to second guess the idea of returning to the pit again. Was a truck really this important?
He knew it was, though. If, and possibly when, they need to evacuate the Bullpen, he wanted enough wheels for everyone who was left to get out quickly and safely. That meant the Land Rover they now pursued. If they lost any of the vehicles back at HQ and this particular vehicle was still sitting here, he’d hate himself for not getting it.
“Get ready to drop in thirty seconds!” Mo yelled as Logan felt Kipanga level out and slow to a hover. He was so lost in thought that he hadn’t even realized they had arrived.
Okay, you bastards… Let’s do this.
He gripped the door, ready to throw it open, but was stopped by the quiet and shaky voice of Mo in his earbud.
“Um… Captain?”
Logan glanced up front to the pilot, seeing only the back of his head. He then noticed that the Kenyan was looking out his side window and down. Logan tried to do the same, but the angle wasn’t right. The only way he was going to see what Mo did was if he opened the cargo hold’s sliding door.
He pulled and froze.
“The hell?” he asked himself.
The ground below was moving. It was like a sea of bodies, roiling like an incoming wave. Every species of inhabitant was accounted for. He saw lion, leopard, hyena, gazelle, wildebeest, smaller creatures that looked like a mongoose, and something else. Something that he didn’t recognize.
“Holy shit—pull up!”
The helo accelerated straight up, throwing Logan to the floor of the rear hold. Fitz’s warning had come so quick that he wasn’t able to properly brace himself for the violent upheaval underneath him.
The motion caught Fitz off guard as well, but he was able to stay on his feet. The jarring motion did, however, cause him to flinch, flexing his finger down on the trigger of his XM25.
A round sailed out into the horde below, exploding on impact, turning six of the things to pulp and maiming another handful. But as quickly as they died, another group took their place in the ever-growing mass.
Laying on his back, Logan turned and looked out over the edge, seeing what looked like a gorilla in mid-air, heading back towards the ground.
No, not a gorilla, Logan thought, not believing what he saw.
The monstrous beast, descended the next forty feet, having leaped from the top of the kopje, and landed directly on top of the Land Rover they sought, crushing it like a tin can. The creature was covered in hairless black, leathery skin and had what looked like pulsating red veins crisscrossing over its body. It sort of resembled what a dehydrated power lifter’s veins looked like, protruding from its skin. He noticed that they rippled too, pulsating with glowing blood.
Except, that’s not a powerlifter or any other kind of man, he thought. Not anymore at least.
The only thing that made it look human was its humanoid shaped body and the intelligence it moved with but besides that… Nothing. It looked like it had just awoken from a deep sleep in Hell…
And boy does it look pissed, Logan thought.
The six-eyed behemoth looked up to them and roared. The sound was low like a lion’s—and at the same time high, like a chimp’s. They could even hear it over the wash of the Blackhawk’s rotor blades. It stared back up at them with a venomous glare. Never blinking. Never backing down.
“Fitz, hit the truck!” Logan shouted, coming out of his stupor.
Fitz immediately aimed at the crushed form of what was once his Land Rover and fired. The 25mm explosive round quickly navigated itself towards the ruined vehicle. It would make a perfect addition to the explosion, adding, even more, punch.
“So long,” Fitz said to the Land Rover as he watched.
A split second before the projectile hit, the creature leaped into the air again, landing atop the kopje. In another fluid motion, it jumped again, disappearing from view into the mass grave site on the other side.
“Eyes!” Logan yelled, as he, Fitz, and Mo, who were all wearing night vision devices, quickly shut their eyes. The detonation, aided by the SUV’s gas tank, ripped through the throng of Nach like a knife through butter, cutting down a large group of them.
Maybe it was the concussive force from the Land Rover, or maybe it was the fact that the creature had fled, but without their ‘leader’ the other monstrosities scattered in all directions. It’s like the hive just lost their queen and had zero direction of their own. Having no reason to stand there and wait to be next on Fitz’s widening shit-list, they bolted.
A roar, more throaty and raspy than the man-thing’s, echoed through the area surrounding the kopje. It had an instant effect on the other creatures, calming the thrashing mob of hooves, horns, and claws. As the feral cry faded, so too did the stampeding of the other infected beasts. Hundreds of sets of eyes simultaneously turned up to the hovering aircraft, all having the same hate filled, hungry look.
“Ah, shit…” Fitz said, looking out his own open door. “That can’t be good.”
The obvious differences in the two roars were disconcerting, but what was even more disturbing to Logan was that it came from inside the underground complex.
No…
He hoped he was wrong. The memory of the creature he’d seen in the barred jail cell on the basement level had unnerved him, but the thought of it being alive was even worse. He didn’t know how it could have lived after seventy years of rot and decomposition, but somehow, it had.
He glanced back down, seeing the large beast moving within the pit. The first monster was still above ground, confirming his suspicions that something was definitely alive in the bunker. The thing in the basement was one of these, but older—more ancient.
“Mo,” Logan said, quietly, “take us home.” He then noticed the blood running down the kopje’s exterior. There had to be gallons of it flowing from its top, like a demonic waterfall.
He then climbed into the front passenger seat, seeing the terrified look in Mo’s eyes. “Quickly, my friend.”
29
Shetani watched from inside the pit as the men escaped…alive. He seethed at the thought of them fleeing again. He wanted them dead. All of them.
The hatred for them came naturally and he wasn’t exactly sure why. It just felt right to want them gone. At first, he was curious, but now, he was furious. It must have come from the changes happening both physically and mentally, becoming a part of his new identity… Shetani… Devil. The name he now realized was new too, even though it was the only one he could truly remember. He was most definitely something else—someone else—before he awoke in the burial pit. But not anymore. He was only Shetani now.
He reached up and began to climb the backside of the kopje, barking out orders for the cats to follow as he moved. He didn’t know how fast they were now, but he was sure that in their current state
they’d be able to keep up easily. It came out as garbled, saliva filled snarls, but they followed orders, turning and sprinting away.
Speech was new, too. He hadn’t tried to speak other than a sustained roar, but that was more involuntary, being brought by emotion, not thought. The notion of verbal communication with his brethren had just come to him…and it obviously worked.
Halfway up the boulders, a large talon tipped hand emerged from the opening leading underground. Shetani silently paused his ascent, watching the three-fingered hand grasp at the smooth stone surrounding the open hatch. It was bigger than his by quite a bit too and was built differently.
His hands were strong and powerful, like the rest of his body, but these were long and spindly by comparison. He wouldn’t have called them weak by any means, either. They were plenty strong, having seen the way his…ancestor…tore into his meals. The precision of the strikes was incredible.
The fact that it was down in the underground facility also stated that it was old—older than him and so ancestor felt like the appropriate term.
Dragging the live meals down the halls wasn’t easy. If they had fresh prey, Shetani would have probably fed on them himself. These weren’t fresh, though. These were the newly made. They still had enough blood and other viable substance to help his ancestor’s rebirth.
Shetani wanted nothing better than to take off after the enemy and hunt them down, but he needed to help awaken his… What was he to me? Grandfather? Regardless of who, or what, he was to Shetani, he needed to reawaken him first. It was another of the many things nagging at the back of his head.
He didn’t know if the thing he now called his ancestor was actually related to him in some way or not, only that they were similar in... He didn’t even know that. It was the scent that spurred him into action. He knew they were of similar species but beyond that…
As the changes in his mind continued, some of his intellect returned, backseating the barbarity from before. He tried to focus on the things before he awoke in the pit surrounded by death, but he couldn’t. Every time he got close to seeing a memory it disappeared, causing his anger—his savagery—to rise anew.
A scratching sound returned his attention back to the top of the kopje, and he watched as a second identical hand emerged from down below. It was then followed by a third…and a fourth. But before the creature could pull itself up, its grip faltered and it fell, landing hard on the floor below.
Shetani would need to help him back to the chamber below so he could continue to feed. It was obvious that his ancestor wasn’t strong enough to leave the confines of the underground structure yet. He would need a little more time.
Before he dropped back down through the opening, Shetani looked back off in the distance. He visualized the direction his prey had gone, burning it into his memory for a later time. He would find them.
He breathed in deep and blocked out the stench of those around him, singling out the noxious fumes that emanated from the aircraft. He grinned and jumped into the air, dropping into the darkness below. The scent of the machine was easy to pick out… It wouldn’t be hard to track.
* * *
The only problem with quickly evacuating the area is that the Blackhawk made a lot of noise and kicked up a ton of dirt, spooking the already on edge animals. Some fled away from the aircraft, some didn’t. About half of the Nach pursued the aircraft, following them back towards their base of operations.
Mo throttled up as fast as he could, but couldn’t shake the quickest of the animals. There were about eight or so, that kept up with them, traveling over 150mph.
“That’s not possible,” Fitz said, watching the spotted cats as they sprinted after the chopper like a group of fang-filled sports cars. They were clearly some kind of cheetah, but the virus had definitely given them some upgrades.
“No ground animal on earth can keep up with anything at this speed,” Fitz said, turning to Logan. “Thank God we didn’t actually make the Rover.” He shook his head. “We’d be done for.”
Logan silently agreed, keeping vigil, watching the extra-large cats as they ran. It was like nothing he’d ever seen before. The altered cheetahs bounded like any normal one would, except that it would stay airborne for what seemed like seconds before its thickened forelimbs and hindquarters met the ground, pumping hard again. What was worse, is that they didn’t even appear to be overly exerting themselves. It seemed like just another midnight stroll through the Netherworld for them.
Their physical appearance didn’t look much different—minus the obviously larger bone and muscle structures. A normal cheetah would get around to the size of a large dog, maybe a hundred and sixty pounds. But these things… They had to be twice that.
Black fur too, Logan thought. Perfect for concealment out in the open. He could just make out the off-black spots covering its body, giving it a two-tone, black-on-black appearance.
“Mo,” Logan said, formulating an idea. “Slow us down and bring Kipanga lower. I want to see if these bastards can dodge one of Gray’s 25’s at this speed.”
Without acknowledging Logan, Mo slowed Kipanga to 70mph and lowered them to just fifty feet off the turf.
Logan then turned to Fitz. “Clip on just in case you get thrown and light these assholes up.”
Grinning like a kid about to do something he knew he shouldn’t be, Fitz stepped out onto the left landing skid, letting the military grade tether hold him in place as his upper body leaned out into open space. He pivoted, turning his hips and shoulders just enough to aim his weapon down and to his left. The XM25 was leashed to his belt, and so was the tether that held him to the chopper. He then picked out the front most cat, leading it a few feet in his sights, and pulled the trigger.
The back half of the Nach-cheetah exploded in a cloud of gore as its front claws dug for purchase, about to make its next stride. The remnants were then shot away as a resounding thunderclap resonated through the air, sending the remaining creatures into a frenzied zigzagging pattern.
“Keep at it!” Logan yelled over the swirling wind. “We need to cut down as many of these things as we can before we get back to HQ.”
Whether or not Fitz heard him was a mute question. He let loose another projectile, continuing his own war with the Nach. Logan peeked out behind his friend and watched as another cheetah burst, turning to cat-slush. He heard me, Logan thought, grabbing a satchel from behind his co-pilots chair.
Reaching into the dark olive canvas bag, Logan pulled out two of a dozen flashbang grenades. He then quickly scurried back to his position next to Fitz. Clipping on like his friend did, but staying seated, Logan swung his legs over the side, dangling them in the open air below.
He pulled the pin belonging to one of the flashbangs and yelled, “Flash out!” directing Fitz and Mo to shut their eyes. The last thing they needed was a blind pilot.
Through his shut eyelids, Logan saw a slight flash and then opened them, watching two of the large cheetahs stumble and slow. Mo followed the movement, slowing the helo so Fitz could take the shot.
It’s what he needed.
The other Aussie let fly two more 25mm rounds, obliterating the stunned cats. Four down, Logan thought, counting the remaining creatures. Four to go. He then lobbed another flashbang out into the void of the darkened African sky.
I hope Fitz brought enough ammo.
30
“Well, that didn’t go as planned,” Fitz said, falling into one of the lounge chairs on the second-floor living area. He then leaned back and kicked out the footrest, closing his eyes while rubbing his temples.
The second floor was sectioned off into three parts. A third of it was where half of the remaining SDF team now found themselves, including Logan and Fitz. The latter adding an ice bag, laying it across his forehead.
“Ya think?” Logan replied, equally exhausted, and sprawled out across the sofa on the other side of the living room. Both men were still dressed in their black BDU’s but had cleaned up and showered, ch
anging into new clothes. They didn’t want to take any chances and not be ready if things went south… Which it undoubtedly would.
Logan recalled the hot, scorching shower and thought about taking another one. The first was to clean up his body. The second would be to clean up his mind. Maybe try to forget some of the horrors he’d seen…
He got up as the flat screen mounted above the faux electric fireplace blinked to life, quickly resolving into the form of Adnan. He was still manning the third level’s communications and had continued trying to call for help.
Logan turned. “Anything yet?”
Adnan just quietly shook his head. He had tried several times, in fact, to reach someone from the local American command. It was number one on their “Holy Shit We Need Help List,” knowing they would have been fully resourced and have the capabilities to send the assistance needed. It was either the late hour or the moronic sounding cry for help stating that “the animals have gone berserk and are killing everything in sight.”
It’s no wonder they hadn’t gotten back to them, Logan thought. If he had been one of the Americans, he would have agreed. It sounded completely absurd.
Looks like we’re on our own for now.
He turned away from the screen as it blinked out, heading around the catwalk that also housed a set of stairs that looped around the inner wall of the large building. It also held an open-air freight elevator, like the ones you see in some old style buildings, or in the movies. It even came with its own roll down wood barrier to keep the riders from falling out. The biggest difference was, that this one could fit a Hummer on it.
“Captain?” Fitz said, lifting the ice bag off his head, opening his eyes. “You alright, mate?”
Logan nodded. “As good as it gets, Gray.” He pointed to his temple, tapping it. “Just need to clear the ole’ noggin.”
He continued right, his boots pounding over the metal utilitarian catwalk. The Bullpen was in fact just a large, vertically built cylinder divided into three floors—four if you counted the small fallout shelter in the basement beneath the garage. It was another of Logan’s paranoia induced precautions.
