Planar Wars: Apertures (Book 1)

by Edmund A. M. Batara

From our vantage point, we could see a wheeled military vehicle, with a two-barreled turret on top and flanked by soldiers, approaching the gate, firing all the time. From the staccato bursts, it was aimed fire, with the occasional long ripping noise to indicate a weapon being fired on full automatic. I knew they were shooting at the beasts, but it didn’t mean no stray bullets were being flung in our direction.

  “Take cover!” I shouted as I grabbed Jen. We flattened ourselves on the stone floor, and I pushed her toward a stone column. The professor was also quick on the uptake and had thrown himself behind one already. That swift reaction, looking almost instinctive, surprised me.

  True enough, numerous stone and cement chips started falling from the front of the building. The structure was in an elevated location, so whatever errant rounds headed our way hit the upper floor. Not that it was any comfort; being on the receiving end of a barrage of small arms fire was not on my bucket list, nor would it ever be.

  As Jen and the professor were safe, I poked my head out from the base of the column. Aside from wondering what was happening, I was worried about my car, our ticket to a speedy getaway from the campus. Thankfully, it was still in one piece and undamaged, if its unbroken windows were any indication. But what I witnessed outside the gate immeasurably added a magnitude of fear to my already terrified brain.

  The soldiers and the machine gunner on the vehicle were firing on a pack of the beasts darting through the trees, undoubtedly sighting new victims. The creatures were about twenty feet in front of us, to our right, down a slight incline. It was a good thing we didn’t rush to the car earlier, otherwise they would have seen us. Several of the beasts got hit, the impact throwing them aside. But the freaking mega-dogs quickly recovered and turned their attention to the newcomers. There was not a casualty among the pack; not one had died in that storm of gunfire. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

  What happened next only proved my belief that the monsters had intelligence.

  The group quickly split into two groups and approached the military patrol from the flanks. They moved very fast. Not lightning quick, but nearly there. Just as a spider jumps from place to place, giving an onlooker apoplexy while holding that rolled-up newspaper, well, the speed was like that. The right group headed for the soldiers while the left sprinted to the armored vehicle.

  I could see the creatures making use of available cover as they bore down on their opponents, though victims would have been the more proper term.

  The guys in the vehicle started to panic as one turret starting spewing rounds that exploded as they hit the ground. Parts of the low brick wall fronting the university were hit and demolished by the explosive assault, spewing dirt and pieces of brick in the air. Some landed in the manicured lawn just after the wall, tearing craters in the ground. The noise of the series of explosions was incredible, completely drowning out the now disjointed fire from the personal weapons of the soldiers. Smoke filled the air.

  The ridiculous thought occurred to me that old Lou would be furious about the lawn.

  Through the thick haze of gunpowder fog, I glimpsed beasts reaching the soldiers. It was an organized assault – one monster for each guardsman.

  Each defender was clearly firing on fully automatic mode as evidenced by the increased volume of fire. The several plumes of red spray I could catch sight of told me the fate of that unfortunate squad. The other group of creatures, four in all, had reached the armored vehicle, two jumping up on the turret and the other duo slashing at its metal sides. One of those on top tore into pieces the protruding barrels, while the other started ripping away at the large mounting. That division of tasks further reinforced my belief that the bastards were exceptionally canny, of a degree higher than the ordinary Earth predator.

  The beasts were using their claws and with each swipe at the metal protection, supposedly proof against heavy machine guns, large pieces of steel were removed and thrown to the ground as if they were but papier-mâché. Then one of the creatures suddenly headbutted the weakened protection, rocking the vehicle and creating a rough opening through caved-in metal sheets. It swiftly forced its way inside.

  I could hear the screams of dying men from where we were hiding, though I doubted if all got the opportunity to even cry out. It was all over in several seconds, counting from the time the pack had begun their attack.

  Thankfully, Jen was not able to witness what happened. The professor, though, had a furious look. I turned my attention back to the carnage we’d witnessed. There, I saw that what I suspected was correct. The beasts had dragged some bodies from the wrecked vehicle and were slashing the bodies apart with their claws. They didn’t feed. One was even treating the dead body as a cat would play with a ball of thread, passing it paw to enormous paw, chewing and tearing at its plaything.

  What kind of creatures are these?

  They were intelligent, that was now obvious, but the degree of cruelty and savagery surpassed anything I knew about the predators of Earth.

  The pack mentality was reminiscent of this world’s many species, but in all other respects, the characteristics they’d so far exhibited were otherworldly. Not to mention that rust-inducing ability.

  I looked at the sky, still heavily overcast, hiding a reluctant sun. A suspicion already loitered in my mind that somehow, the sudden onset of the change in the weather and the appearance of the beasts were connected.

  At that time, the additional link of the phenomenon to the loss of television and cell phone signals didn’t occur to me. But one thing was clear: for the time being, despite escaping the predatory monsters stalking the inner halls of the campus buildings, we were trapped.

  6

  Evasion

  I looked at the professor. He glanced back and gave me a hand signal to wait. But the anger was still in his eyes. It was a different kind of fury; outrage and a desire for revenge were there, if the clenched lines on his chin were any indication. I suspected the easygoing professor had a lot more history than I thought.

  Special forces? Combat officer? I tried to guess. His expertise in the academic field would definitely grant him officer rank. Captain, probably.

  We lay hidden for a time, maybe thirty minutes to an hour. All that mattered was seeing the pack near the gate leave and go somewhere else. The monsters did go their way after a while, bored probably, and looking for new prey.

  The campus by then was eerily quiet. Only faint pitiful screams could be heard from the distance, along with now sporadic gunfire and explosions, together with the familiar and frightening sounds of the beasts.

  Smoke curled from the small community outside the university gates, though the buildings within my view were still intact. More smoke could be seen on the far horizon from the direction of the town where the distant sound of heavy explosions could be heard.

  It’s not a localized event then, I concluded. And that raises a lot of difficult issues. I hope Mom is okay. Maybe she’s already home. As that thought entered my mind, I knew it was wishful thinking. I realized how useless that train of thought was.

  A whispered “pssst!” brought me back from my musings. It was the professor. He pointed outside. The area was now clear. Nodding, I tapped Jen’s arm.

  “We’re going,” I told her in a low voice as my hand fished out my key. Slowly, we inched our way toward the car, brushing through the low hedge. The professor moved to the other side of the vehicle while Jen stayed with me.

  I pointed at the back seat. As she nodded, I stupidly pressed the “open” button on the car’s electronic key system. In my defense, it was force of habit. Call it muscular memory. Routine. Reflex. I’ve got no excuse.

  The loud beep echoed through the silence. To my fear-addled mind, it was unbelievably loud. We froze, expecting those terrible growls in that terrifying moment. But nothing happened. The monsters must already have left the campus, which meant almost everyone had fled or was dead. The realization perversely gave me some relief as I knew the sound of the car engine would undoubt
edly be louder than the electronic opening of its doors.

  I backed out of the parking spot and maintained a constant speed. Wary of the increase in engine noise if I sped up while making our way through the winding driveway, I took care in maneuvering through tight corners. It wouldn’t do to fuck up the escape with a crashed car or a flat tire because of sheer panic. But to be honest, the numerous mounds of bloodied flesh on the road really slowed me down. They might have been dead, unidentifiable piles of meat, but they had been humans, like me.

  They had died terrible and probably agonizing deaths, and I absolutely had no right to treat them as roadkill. I even had to use Lou’s beloved lawn as a detour at times. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw Jen craning her head around us, watching for any threats. The professor was also doing the same. We were all quiet and tense. How did that cliché go? You could cut the atmosphere with a knife? That was us.

  I did pray the old man had survived. He was a part of the university. Hell, he was the symbol of the university, dutifully doing his job, despite uncaring students like me stepping on his beloved grass lawns and flowers, with rarely a complaint, even against bullheaded, bigfooted flower-bed tramplers.

  In the scheme of things, that was all this world needed – each one doing his or her part conscientiously. But it wouldn’t be an imperfect world then, wouldn’t it?

  We gingerly made our swerving way past the carnage at the campus gates. I noticed the professor didn’t look at the mounds of flesh on the street. An M1117 Commando, was the only statement he made, referring to the make of the now-rusted and destroyed vehicle. Even its tires were slashed. As I looked down the road, I could see more piles of red meat on the pavement and the sidewalks.

  We turned the corner to Main Street. There were other routes but from experience, this one was the fastest to the highway. The same sight greeted us. More dead.

  The frontages of some buildings were wrecked. The damage appeared to be made by the beasts forcing their way inside, but other destruction looked to be the result of large explosions.

  Probably military munitions, I thought. The numerous holes on a lot of structures supported my observation.

  The main road and side streets were full of rusted or destroyed cars, military trucks, Humvees, and other vehicles, civilian and military. On Grover Street, we could see ongoing fires down that side road. Some buildings had completely burned down, while others still were feeding the flames. Abandoned firetrucks lined the road. But the piles of unidentifiable dead were all over the place. We didn’t see a single intact body.

  The entire smoke-filled area was also as quiet as a tomb.

  The fire would either burn down half of the community or peter out. Fortuitously, a large parking space servicing a large mall stood between the trees and the end of streets with ongoing fires. At least the raging flames wouldn’t start a forest fire; people didn’t need additional problems.

  Suddenly, a figure dressed in military camo rushed from the rusted hulk of an armored vehicle, the front hull of which had been crushed. Weirdly, it was upside-down and had crashed through the wall of what I believed was formerly the store of a designer brand, a factory outlet.

  The approaching person hailed us frantically, both hands alternately waving in the air and giving us the sign to stop. I pulled over. The soldier ran to us.

  “Good to see you, sir,” said the man, addressing the professor who had opened the side window. His name tag stated his family name was Cooper.

  “Could you lend us some assistance? My lieutenant is seriously hurt and we need to evacuate him to a safer place.”

  The professor looked at me. I immediately nodded. He didn’t need to ask. At a time like this, only the basest of people would refuse to lend aid. I started to open my car door.

  “No. I’ll go. Somebody has to stay with the car and Jen. We won’t be long,” the professor said as he quickly got out and followed Cooper.

  While they were gone, Jen and I didn’t talk. We both kept watch. A lot of things had happened and we didn’t want any nasty surprises popping out of the woodwork. It reminded me of those movie tropes showing characters busy talking right in the middle of monster land while a horde of the Undead was approaching from the back. Mmm, zombie pizza! Served them nitwits right.

  Cooper and the professor appeared out of the side of the now destroyed brand outlet. A third man was between them. As they got nearer, I saw who they were carrying. It was Stan.

  7

  Predator and Prey

  My friend looked pale, a bit gray actually, as they hurriedly placed him at the back, beside Jen who quickly moved to one side. Stan looked barely conscious. Cooper got in the car, unslinging his rifle. The professor sat in the front again. As soon as I heard the car door close, I accelerated in the direction of the highway.

  “Thank you, sir,” I heard Cooper say.

  “We’re not out of this yet. For now, we’re headed home. Assessment and plans can be done when we have a breather,” I added. “Sorry, professor. I guess you’ll be with us a while.”

  “No problem. Been staying in a room along Bird Street, across from Ernie’s Bar. I guess it’s burned down now. It runs parallel to Grover. I do hope I won’t be too much of a bother.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Professor. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want. It’s now a freakish world out there. We all better stick together until we understand what’s going on. How’s Stan, Cooper?”

  “Concussion and possible rib fractures. Scratches and bruises. I think the legs are okay. Something is affecting his right side though, feels cold to the touch,” replied the soldier.

  “Let me see,” said the professor who quickly checked out Stan with practiced and experienced movements. “Cooper’s right. But we can’t do anything yet in this cramped interior. I know a bit about emergency field care, but we can do that when we get to our destination.”

  “Stay frosty, guys. The entry to the highway is coming up,” I warned as I turned left down an embankment. We’d just crossed the bridge over the freeway. The surroundings were full of trees, so a look at the condition of the town, even from a distance, was out of the question. As we made our way down, I could see the main road was deserted, no moving vehicles in sight. An overturned eighteen-wheeler together with its forty-foot container lay smashed against one of the highway barriers. A few cars stood abandoned or were rusted hulks at various sections of the road.

  Yet again, the ubiquitous flesh piles. One was unavoidably close by, and I got to see it at an unwanted distance as the car entered the main road. Then it struck me. What I had so far seen were mounds of flesh with what remained of their clothes. The bones were missing, including the skulls. True, they might have been cracked or smashed, but surely some vestiges would be seen?

  I tried to keep the contents of my stomach down. With abysmal results. I had to stop the car as I vomited down my side of the vehicle. Nobody said a word about my reaction; I guess they understood what was happening. If they hadn’t seen what I had seen, then they might have blamed the almost unbearable stress beating us all down.

  Maybe the adrenaline was a positive thing, but it would depend on the time and place. If it came from the abject terror arising out of the presence of unknown entities capable of mangling you to bits, aside from God knows what else, then the rush would feed fear or whatever frightful emotion was coursing through your mind. There was just no term for that adrenaline-induced horror. Like fear, terror seemed too tame a word.

  We sped along at a respectable pace. My eyes were glued forward, taking care to avoid road obstacles and human remains, as well as keeping watch for any of those fast monsters. I guessed the rest in the car were also kept their eyes peeled. From the road, we could see burning complexes and unmoving vehicles both sides of the highway. Not a soul in sight. I hadn’t expected the depredations to be so widespread.

  Midway through our route, while on a straight stretch of the road, I saw a pack of the beasts suddenly materialize
about a hundred meters away. The fuckers had just appeared! One second, the way was clear, and the next, there they were, right on our lane. There were eight or ten of them. I didn’t stop.

  “Heads up! Bastards ahead! Ramming through! We’ve got no choice!” I shouted as I pressed the accelerator with my foot. And my little second-hand car, equipped with automatic transmission and fully loaded as it was, responded the way it was designed to function… with an achingly slow acceleration and an increase in the sound of the protesting engine.

  I heard the sound of Cooper’s rifle being racked and the whistle of the wind as he opened his window. Out of the corner of my eye, I also saw him passing a pistol of some kind to the professor. Then the window on that side was lowered too. My brain was screaming “wind resistance!” right at that moment, though some dark part of my mind was also shouting “you’re screwed!” by way of accompaniment.

  Now why the hell would I take such a drastic measure as rushing the terrible beasts? Well, the brain works in a high-speed mode when suddenly faced with a half-expected crisis, at least in my case. For one, the pack looked disoriented, and didn’t attack us immediately. Secondly, to reverse course or turn back would merely expose us to pursuit by much faster predators.

  We couldn’t have escaped them in my magnificent car. And third, I doubted if they expected us to head straight for them. At least that was what I believed.

  Seeing the car, the pack regrouped and spread themselves across the road. The bastards didn’t even move from their spot; they stood there, waiting for us and I could see two or three already positioned to leap the moment we got in range.

  “Cooper, fire on full auto when you see their hind legs move,” I heard the professor say in a matter-of-fact tone. Thinking back to what had happened to the patrol, he probably hoped for the kinetic force keeping them off-balance. But I had no choice. My eyes did stray to the pitiful wooden stick placed beside the driver’s seat.