by Taylor Buck
The bright orange sun tucked in behind Mauna Kea— the ancient volcano rising nearly 14,000 feet above the sea. Bennett walked over to his truck, a rented silver Chevy Colorado. He threw his gear in the cab, started it up, and pulled out of the forest reserve parking lot. Bennett drove along the winding back roads to his hotel room in downtown Hilo. He called to check in with his publicist, Michelle, giving her an update on the newfound locations he had come across today.
Bennett sat out on the terrace of his seventh-story suite and thought through the events that had occurred today. He couldn’t put the bizarre sighting of the panther out of his mind. He pulled up the image onto his computer. The picture popped up on his screen, he studied it.
In larger screen context, he was able to make out even more intricate detail. The animal’s head had distinct catlike ears, eyes and mouth. Bennett also noticed the head appeared slightly small, compared to the rest of the body—which was somewhat bulky and muscular. What puzzled Bennett the most were the legs. The strong torso looked to be supported by relatively slender legs. The foliage hid the paws and hind section, so he couldn’t get a read on those. Overall, the creature looked to be about five feet in length from head to where it appeared to end behind the tree. Pulling up a new browser window, he began running searches on “Hawaiian Panther”. Bennett poured over the results intently for a time.
The sky, lit by the setting sun, began to fade into a blood orange-soaked sky. Then the amber glow lazily faded as the sun tucked down into the ocean for the night.
It was quiet—and indescribably peaceful outside.
Bennett was enjoying the evenings here. The island seemed to have a stillness that hovered over the land at dusk. The temperature cooled down and a gentle breeze blew through the open windows, teasing the curtains.
He stayed up studying until exhaustion took over.
Then he slept.
CHAPTER 8
CASTLE HILO HAWAIIAN HOTEL
15 OCTOBER, 6:51 A.M.
Bennett awakened at 6:31 to the sound of his mobile phone rattling around on top of the bedside table. He grabbed the phone and looked at the caller ID.
It was Kelly.
“Hello?” Bennett said rather hoarsely.
“Tom? Hey! Sorry did I wake you?” Kelly asked concerned.
Bennett could hear intermittent background chatter behind Kelly’s voice. “No, no…I mean yeah, but I was getting up anyway,” he said and managed a small chuckle. “What’s going on?”
“I took a look at the photo you sent over last night.” She paused. “Tom, if that cat is on the island, we’ve got some serious problems.”
“Do you know what it is?” Bennett asked.
“Well, it’s certainly part of the panthera family, but it’s difficult to determine what species it is. It’s melanistic, or dark, which makes it even more rare. Everything leads to it being a black panther…but there’s something about the body structure that is not matching; the front legs appear to taper, making them extremely thin for a large cat. Also, the photo leads me to believe that the animal is Manx. Meaning it’s tailless—an even stranger feature.”
“You can determine that, even with the rear end behind the tree?” Bennett asked.
“Yes. A panther tail is fairly long, about 2-3 feet. Long enough that we should visibly see it protruding from behind that tree.”
Bennett grabbed his laptop and pulled up the photo again. “Yeah, you’re right Kell. I can see what you mean now.”
“I don’t know Tom. This thing is very odd, it has me stumped.” While Kelly spoke, Bennett could hear a faint voice coming over a loudspeaker in the background.
“Well, whatever it is—I’m tracking it today, Kelly. This thing is way too intriguing for me to let go.”
“Great! Me too. I’m at the airport right now,” she said cheerfully. “I’ll be there in an hour.”
CHAPTER 9
CERTA FACILITY GROUNDS
15 OCTOBER, 7:00 A.M.
Rick Danner was furious. It was now 7:00 A.M. His team had been searching for twenty-four hours with nothing to show yet. He rubbed his fingers over his temples in a circular motion. The excruciating headache he was experiencing was creeping forward into his eye sockets.
Danner was beginning to feel extremely stressed.
On top of that, his public ridicule—handed to him the day before by Dr. Perry, was playing over and over in his mind.
He hated being scolded.
He was tired. The wave of exhaustion had recently hit as he had been out pursuing Lorry since Dr. Perry’s visit yesterday. His team had covered the full eight acres of land surrounding the facility, which had taken a while to cover due to the extensive foliage and difficult terrain. He had returned to the facility to resupply. He walked through the main entrance doors and entered the building.
The CERTA facility itself was an 80,000 square foot structure nestled amongst the dense Hawaiian forestry. Its location was classified and completely off the map. By using the protective environment provided by the forest reserve, CERTA was able to operate in an undisclosed location. Both the access road and the building itself were invisible to any maps or topographical photography, including GPS. You could pick up any map on the island and CERTA would be indistinguishable on the green blob that made up the Hakalau Forest National Wildlife Refuge.
CERTA kept in line with security precautions too. Danner made sure of it. Along the eight-acre perimeter was a shock fence. The shock fence was the result of an agreement between CERTA developers and the Haikalu Forest Reserve. The wattage applied to the fence was relatively low, running at a moderate 2000 volts. This kept the protected animals from wandering onto the CERTA grounds, offering trespassers a minor shock warning—non-life threatening. However, since Lorry’s disappearance, Danner had upped the voltage to 12,000V. If, per chance, she wandered up to the fence—the voltage would be enough to shut down her internal electronics and fry every circuit on board.
The fence itself was twelve feet high—high enough to keep non-flying animals from entering. However, based on the security footage that Danner had seen in the den, he was quite certain this would pose no serious challenge for Lorry.
Danner and his team made up a group of four men— all experienced trackers. Rick had joined them at 7:00PM the day prior, making it a full ten hours since he had been back to the lab. He needed to grab some food and resupply. His could feel his body beginning to fatigue.
His mind, however, was restless.
There was no time to sleep. And as tired as he was, he would be unable to sleep until he found Lorry.
Lorry—the juggernaut.
Juggernauts…that was what they called them. He supposed it was fitting, since they were transporters. However, the name juggernaut carried negative connotations. It literally meant a merciless, destructive force of war. The development team certainly hadn’t done themselves a favor by titling the robot ambiguously.
Danner had no attachment to them. He wasn’t a scientist, and he hadn’t been part of their development. To him, these things were soulless, lifeless hunks of circuitry, and one of them had happened to escape his fortress—a fortress in which he has spent years protecting. He never would have imagined that the breach would come from the inside.
No doubt the robots were extremely fascinating in what they could do. Danner was sure that the scientists had gone far beyond the scope of the original commissioned project. The robots were indeed, a miracle of science. However, this miracle was on the loose and extremely dangerous.
Being Saturday, there were no scientists on site at the facility, and the lab was completely empty. Danner made his way down a dark hallway ‘till he reached the supply room. He swiped his key chain, swung the door open and went inside.
He noted a smell right away. The supply room had a chemic
al smell that never seemed to fade. He thought it to be the large bottles of bleach on the facing wall. Nevertheless, it was noticeable.
He made his way to the back wall and opened the lock to the arsenal. The rows of semi-automatic rifles were displayed before him behind glass, like a buffet line.
The facility was equipped with a wide assortment of defense weaponry. Due to the highly sensitive matter they worked with, the facility was stocked with enough weaponry to defend a small-scale hostile invasion. The stash had only been utilized on rare occasions; one of which was when Rick nabbed a pesky mongoose that had been repeatedly chewing away at a cable on a security camera. He fixed the problem, only to receive backlash from the scientists for taking the life of an innocent animal. Danner couldn’t comprehend the protest. In his mind, he had rid the premises of a rodent. He simply could not sympathize with the rest of the team. Of course, the battlefield had stripped Danner of any sympathy, let alone much emotion of any kind.
He was a soldier. He would always be a soldier.
Rick Danner was former Delta Force, and at forty-five years old he was still a formidable combatant. He had joined up with CERTA twelve years ago after Dr. Perry himself plucked him from active duty in the military. Dr. Perry’s influence had allowed him to be selective. He gave Danner a generous financial offer, as well as the promise that he would be part of a company that would revolutionize the future of warfare. Perry had chosen Danner because he knew he was capable of protecting and defending the sensitive material they worked on. Perry also knew Rick Danner was a man of integrity and strict discipline. He was also good for intimidation whenever Perry needed any dirty work done. Danner had an incredibly strong physique. He obsessed over fitness and weight lifting. He had actually built a small workout gym outside on the grounds.
However, Danner was also known to occasionally be aggressive. He had received complaints about his attitude and the way he managed security at the lab. Dr. Perry knew he was dependable, though—and with the amount of delicate information surrounding this lab, that trait served as invaluable to Perry.
Danner swung open the gun rack casing and ran his fingers along the barrels. After being out on the hunt for a time, he decided to trade in his M4 Carbine for a Bennelli 12 gauge. Danner found that the M4, which was equipped with a grenade launcher, was a bit excessive and also too heavy to lug around. He would do just fine with the 12 gauge. He knew if Lorry gave him trouble, a few well-placed rounds to the undercarriage should put her down. Of course, he had to take into account the robot’s carbon nanotube frame, completely resistant to firepower. There were only a few points of entry that would “short the circuits” on her. Danner happened to know those points of weakness.
He checked the magazine— loaded.
Danner checked his watch. It was now 7:30. He realized he hadn’t checked in with his team in over and hour. He pulled the two-way walkie from his belt clip. He pressed the activate button and heard the double bleep indicating the walkie was live.
“Sound off to base. Check in and report your status, over.” Danner paused and listened for a response.
Nothing.
“I repeat. Sound off to base. Please identify and report your status—over.”
Again—nothing.
Dead air.
Danner thought it through. There were still two men out in the field searching. Only himself and one other had been relieved. So there was no reason that the two of them shouldn’t be responding. He tried it a third time.
“This is Delta Romeo to Charlie and Kilo. Check in and report your status.
I repeat. Report your status. Over.”
Silence.
Something was wrong.
Danner grabbed two extra magazines and shoved them into his belt holster beside his .45 revolver. He slung the Bennelli over his shoulder, kicked open the rear exit doors, and stepped out into the morning mist.
CHAPTER 10
HILO POLICE DEPARTMENT
15 OCTOBER, 7:41 A.M.
Detective Jim Lee poured his third cup of coffee. The aroma of the bold Kona blend filled his office—a robust and pleasant smell, hearty in flavor with a blend of warm earthly essences and a hint of coconut. He was filing his initial briefing papers when his phone rang.
“Detective Lee?”
“Speaking.”
“This is Frank, I’m performing the autopsy on the man brought in last night. Terry Sullivan told me to call you if anything came up.”
“Yeah, what’s up?” Lee asked.
“Well, I’ve got something you might want to come take a look at something.”
Lee could determine by the man’s tone that he was uncomfortable speaking over the phone.
“Go ahead,” he said. “What have you got?”
“Well Detective…It’s likely there is an alternate cause of death.”
Lee perked up.
“I’m on my way,” he said. He hung up the phone and rushed out the door.
CHAPTER 11
BOWERY & SONS MORTUARY
15 OCTOBER, 7:50 A.M.
The mortuary was ten minutes from Lee’s office. He made it in seven. The autopsy clinician greeted Lee at the front doors.
“Good morning. I’m Frank,” the man said.
Frank looked to Lee exactly as he sounded on the phone—mid-forties, bald and skinny with dark bags under his eyes. Lee found it slightly amusing, as if there was some prerequisite for morticians to look this way.
“Sorry, we’re closed on Saturday’s so the doors are all locked. There is no one else here to let you in.”
“Much appreciated,” Lee said with a smile.
“The body is in the back, I’ll show you.”
Frank ushered Lee down through a series of hallways until they reached the autopsy room. The deceased man’s body was in the middle of the room with a bright light glaring down on him. Lee and Frank moved in close to it.
“Look here.” Frank’s finger, covered in blue surgical latex, motioned to an area on the back of the man’s neck. Lee could see a dark round spot about the size of a tick on his skin. “It’s a puncture wound.” Frank said. “Through this entry point, the man was administered a large dose of barbiturates—mainly Sodium Pentothal. Enough to shut down every organ in a few seconds.
“Pentothal? Like the truth serum?” Lee asked.
“Exactly. Except he was given a lethal dose, at least five times the amount used as a serum.”
“So the guy died of organ failure?” Lee asked questioningly.
“Yes, on account of the pentothal. Don’t get me wrong, his ribs and back were crushed and there was extensive internal hemorrhaging. But the cause of death came from the Pentothal,” Frank said sounding sure of his report.
Lee paused to let the new information sink into his mind. “Well. This certainly changes things,” he said and let out a heavy sigh. “What about the delivery? Can you tell what kind of tool was used to inject the Pentothal?”
“Well, it appears to have been given by a syringe of some variation. The mark certainly matches the wound admitted by a needle, a fairly large one at that. It looks like somebody must have stuck him.”
“Well, that rules out the animal attack theory,” Lee said.
“What do you mean?”
“At the scene of the crime, I found circular shaped prints all around the body on the ground—the same sized circles that appear on the man’s back.”
“You think an animal attacked this man?” asked Frank.
“More like pile-drived. I know it sounds crazy, but that’s the closest conclusion we have made right now. And obviously the discovery of the needle entry wound throws a wrench in that assumpt…” Lee trailed off, deep in thought. “Unless the man was injected after the attack. But why would someone do that?”
&nb
sp; Frank looked up at Lee with a puzzled expression. “Detective Lee, I can assure you that this man was not attacked by an animal. There are no signs of clawing, tearing or biting. I haven’t found any traces of hair or fur on the body either.”
“I know Frank, but this man was clearly pursued by something. I don’t know what. But he was chased and slammed into the ground, hence the bruising and bone fractures.”
Lee stared at the corpse as if it would wake up and offer up the explanation to his questions. He was getting agitated. The news he was receiving wasn’t matching up with his attack theory. It was now involving additional factors that were becoming more and more complex.
“Regardless of the attack, the man was pumped full of Pentothal. We have to run with that for the moment.” He turned to Frank. “Frank, I appreciate you calling me in here. You’ve been a big help.”
“No problem,” Frank replied.
“Please let me know if anything else comes up. Nice work.”
Frank walked Lee out to the entrance of the building. Lee had newfound information to share with Chief Sullivan. The info still didn’t make sense, but he had to factor it all together. He dialed Sullivan’s number.
CHAPTER 12
HILO INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
15 OCTOBER, 8:03 A.M.
Kelly’s plane landed in Hilo International Airport just as Bennett pulled in to the Arrivals section. He drove his truck up to the curb to find Kelly already walking out the exit doors toward him.
