The Shadow Above The Flames

by Daniel Swenson

  Buildings were no longer higher than six stories tall, and there were no bright neon signs or LCD screens. Many believed that the bright neon lights attracted the Beast’s attention. Because of this, cities would descend into darkness at night, fearing they would attract the Beast's wary gaze.

  Brooklyn had been fortunate to have large companies like Union Forest move in with plenty of money to revitalize and clean up the city after the attack. Now, the city thrived with the infusion of revenue coming from the business even though they were so close to the quarantined island.

  Henry continued to listen to his music as he walked down 20th Avenue. The slightly overcast sky promised rain in the next day or two. Nowadays, water was a valued commodity, and no one could afford to use it to wash the streets or buildings. In fact, if you were found doing so, it was a three-thousand dollar fine.

  Henry stopped to pick up a newspaper for his ride into work and immediately regretted doing so. On the front page, there was an article about how the government had elected to move the nation's capital to Lebanon, Kansas.

  "It's a shame what they're doing. Don't you think?" the newspaper stand worker asked.

  Henry realized the man was trying to ask him something, so he clicked off his music.

  "What was that?" Henry asked.

  The stand owner pointed at the cover of the newspaper. "It's a shame they're moving the country's capital to some shit hole in Kansas. I don't care if this Lebanon is centrally located in the middle of the country or not. I think all these congress types just want to save their asses and get as far away from the eastern seaboard as possible. They couldn't give a rat's ass about us little people, ya know?"

  Henry didn't want to get into a debate with the man, so he reached for his wallet. "How much do I owe you?"

  "Six seventy-five."

  Henry swiped his card across the panel on the counter. The owner thanked him and turned to talk with another customer. As Henry walked away, a football, thrown by a couple of boys heading towards Milestone Park, knocked the paper out of his hands. He bent over to pick it back up and thought, Today is going to be one of those days, and then started off again.

  The next two blocks passed by in the blink of an eye, and he arrived at his favorite stop of the day. The coffee shop had once been owned by a powerhouse coffee company called Star Ducks, or something like that. Henry could never remember its name. He reached for the door as it burst open, and out walked a frustrated and surprised Carly.

  "Oh, hi, Henry. How are you?"

  Henry stood there, startled and mesmerized by Carly's sudden appearance. While temporarily paralyzed, he watched her rich golden wheat-colored hair tumble over her shoulders and flow in waves across her glowing, porcelain skin. He gazed into her bright emerald-green eyes, framed by long lashes, that seemed to brighten the world and keep him in a stupefied state.

  After what seemed like hours instead of seconds, she asked, "Are you okay?"

  He blushed and mentally berated himself for not speaking up. "Um . . . yeah, I'm okay; you just caught me off guard. I thought I’d stop in for my morning cup of Joe before I headed to work."

  Carly smiled as she stepped aside, holding open the door for him. "I have it ready and on the counter for you, as always. But I’m on my way out because I have to pick up Stanley. He’s late as usual, but this time he doesn’t have a car. I swear if it wasn't for the anti-firing law the state passed last year, I would have let go of his worthless behind months ago."

  "Thanks, Carly. I hope Stanley doesn't give you too much trouble this time."

  Henry quickly ducked inside, grabbed his coffee, swiped his card, and exited the shop.

  With a wave goodbye, Carly twisted the key, locking the door to the coffee shop, and then darted across the street to her old beat up car. Henry attempted to wave back but nearly spilled his coffee all over himself. He looked back to see if Carly had noticed; luckily, she hadn't. While Henry did his best to regain his composure, her car sputtered off down the street.

  He waved for an automated transit cab to come pick him up and take him to work. Standing there, he took a sip of his coffee and sighed as the warm liquid slid down his throat. Carly had made it exactly to his liking, plain black coffee with two sugars and just a drop of honey.

  The transit cab pulled up, and he climbed inside. He hated these things, but unfortunately, they were the quickest and easiest way to get around town. Plus, by being a Union Forest employee, he didn't have to pay for the ride if he was heading to or from work.

  Unlike him, many of the locals liked the transit cabs because the creatures stayed away from them and because people in the area didn't own cars since they attracted attention and were too damn expensive.

  Henry gazed out the window as the transit cab pulled up to the Union Forest building just outside the Fort Hamilton compound. He climbed out and stretched the kinks out of his legs. Once satisfied, he clipped on his badge and climbed the steps towards the Union Forest building

  The crisp fall morning welcomed the sun as it climbed over the eastern horizon. The whirling composite blades of the MH-47 Chinook helicopter whooped and hummed while it hovered over the charred and twisted remains of the trees. The pilot gave the order for the men to prepare to descend near the small town of Limavady, Ireland. Rick stepped down on the skids and hesitated, unprepared for what he saw. He had traveled to Ireland when he was a kid with his parents and his older brother, Henry, but back then, the trees were full of bronze-burnished leaves this time of year.

  What he saw now was nothing like those childhood memories. Before him were dried husks of what had once been tall and lush trees. Until now, he hadn't believed that the Beast had forever changed the beautiful Irish landscape.

  The pilot bellowed an order for the men to drop, so Rick kicked off the skid and slowly descended the rope. The wind from the blades whipped dirt and debris, making it difficult to see. He stumbled as a wave of nausea hit him when he landed; two other members of his team helped him get up to feet. A memory of Henry and his first mission came to mind, but he quickly pushed it aside. The final member of their team dropped down from the helicopter above and waved it away.

  "Morgan, are you alright?" Sergeant McAvoy yelled.

  Rick realized someone called his name. So he spun around, a little too quickly, and tripped over a rock. He picked himself up off the ground and wiped the dust from his clothes, doing a poor job of it. The two men from behind laughed at the sight and began circling the perimeter.

  "Sorry, sir; I got a bit dizzy there for a moment."

  "Well, make sure it doesn't happen again. This place isn't Disneyland. One wrong turn and we could all end up as dinner."

  The Chinook helicopter veered off and headed towards the safety of the ocean, leaving the seal team behind. The team consisted of four men—Sergeant McAvoy, Specialist Jacobson, Wells, and Rick—who had survived many perilous missions and went by the code name Devil Dogs.

  The government, or what was now left of the old government, would use the Devil Dogs when they needed something done under the radar.

  Someone with strong military pull had assigned the team to the international drilling company known as Union Forest and they had issued this assignment. Apparently, they didn't want any knowledge of this mission on the books or in the press.

  Rick and his team had spent several days planning how they would make landfall. They finally decided to fly under the cover of a nasty rainstorm that appeared to be heading towards the northern coast of Ireland.

  The drop off point was ideal because it had easy access to the open ocean. Once they made landfall, they traveled the remaining eighteen miles to the village of Ardmore by foot. The trek was extremely dangerous because most of the terrain provided no cover from deadly predators.

  The branches of a nearby tree groaned in protest to the winds that buffeted them as the helicopter left. Rick watched as one of the branches snapped and fell to the ground, nearly hitting Jacobson. The ground around th
em was dry and cracked with small brown plants desperately trying to grow amongst the charred remains of the dead trees.

  "Hey, Greenie, catch up!" yelled Wells.

  Rick scowled. "I'm coming."

  He disliked the nickname, but he couldn't deny the fact that he was the youngest recruit of the special ops team. Before coming here, he had survived two tours in Afghanistan, thanks to Lady Luck and Henry, who always seemed to be around watching over him.

  Henry had become overly protective after their grandfather died eleven years ago, still blaming himself for the tragedy that had happened that day, and then to make matters worse, their parent's died in a plane crash a couple months before Henry enlisted.

  No matter how hard Rick tried, he always seemed to be in Henry's shadow. On paper, Henry was nothing more than a field medic. However, few people knew that he was a highly trained sniper who could hit a target well over twenty-five hundred yards. He traveled under the guise of a field medic so that he could get in and out without being a target.

  Just before Henry left the service, Rick signed up for another tour, mainly to prove to himself that he could do it without his big brother and to show Henry that he didn't need him around.

  So Rick began volunteering for missions that put him in harmful and dangerous situations. Many of these ended up being covert missions, eventually getting the attention of Sergeant McAvoy, who had personally asked him to be assigned to the Devil Dogs. Even with his current assignment, he still was in Henry's shadow.

  The muscles in the back of Rick's neck knotted up in irritation at the memories. He rubbed at his neck and readjusted his pack to relieve the tension. All four men walked in silence, relying on hand signals and gestures from one another to communicate since the first hour on land was the most dangerous and crucial.

  Rick looked around and noticed the strange appearance of many of the plants. They were duller than one would expect and were twisted and deformed in unnatural ways. The land appeared as though it had been drained of its energy. It reminded Rick of the old movies he used to watch with Henry, where an old sorcerer would place his hand upon the chest of his victim and use a spell to drain the person's life away.

  Rick hustled to catch up to Jacobson. "Hey, since you're kind of the biological expert on the team, could you tell me why all the plants around here are a sickly brown color?"

  Jacobson turned and pulled a tablet from the side of his pack. He turned it on and then handed it over to Rick.

  "During the briefing, one of the scientists pulled me aside and gave me this. It contains satellite images taken by scientists back home who monitored this area for the last five years. It shows how the once lush green land became nothing more than a barren wasteland filled with twisted and dying plants. The weird thing is they don’t know what’s causing it. There is no scientific or biological reason for what is causing this blight affecting the land."

  Rick let out a slow whistle, which he immediately regretted.

  Wells tapped him on the shoulder. "Are you trying to announce our arrival, Greenie?" He chuckled and then moved ahead of the two men.

  The Devil Dogs were the first people in five years to make landfall in Ireland since the Union Forest disaster. Rick and the others didn't question why they were there, but they wondered why now. As they continued walking, Rick noticed that a few of the trees near the water seemed a little more green and healthier than the others.

  He turned to Jacobson. "Did you notice those trees over there by the water? They don't seem to be as affected as the other plants around here."

  Jacobson peered over his shoulder to where Rick pointed. "That's interesting. I’ll have to include it in my nightly report. Hey, we probably should cut the chatter; I don't like the look the sergeant is giving us."

  Rick nodded as he backed away, allowing Jacobson to catch up with Wells. He tried to remember the multitude of reports he had reviewed for the mission. Many of the images he’d seen resembled the war torn cities back in Afghanistan but with a more hospitable climate.

  There had been rumors that Union Forest had sent another team to Limavady three years ago to assess the damage and to see if the Beast was still living on the island, but there were no confirmed reports of any such mission.

  However, something recently had the Union Forest executives and government officials buzzing around like a pack of angry hornets. He had overheard one of the Union Forest executives mention something about satellite images not showing signs of the Beast in the area. Yet orders were orders, and the team would carry out the mission like dozens before.

  The team's mission was simple and clear. Get in undetected, traverse the Irish countryside, explore the Union Forest drill site, report back what they found, and recover the data core. Many Union Forest employees hadn’t escaped the disaster five years ago, so all the equipment was still there, including a bunch of advanced computer and sonar detection equipment, which stored data on a centralized platinum data core.

  Unfortunately, for the company, the data core malfunctioned a couple weeks before the disaster. Normally, the data on the core migrated at midnight over the net to be stored on the Union Forest mainframe before being wiped from the data core, but the disaster struck before any technicians could repair the malfunctioning core. Union Forest still claimed this was the reason why nobody ever discovered the Beast’s home. Rick assumed that Union Forest had asked the team to retrieve the data core so that the company could prove this fact and help save face.

  A small breeze whistled eerily through the branches of a nearby tree. The sound gave Rick the impression that the land around them was wailing in agony. Everyone was on their guard as they marched towards the town ahead. Wells and Jacobson held their guns more tightly, causing the white of their knuckles to show. Rick saw something to the north of them moving about in the brush, so he gripped his rifle tighter.

  Sergeant McAvoy walked up next to him and slowly pushed his rifle down. "Calm down. It's just a rabbit."

  Rick slowly lowered his weapon and relaxed.

  "How much farther?" Rick asked.

  "About another mile or two I'd wager. Unfortunately, I don't think we're going to find any edible food here, so I hope you have an appetite for MREs."

  McAvoy clapped Rick on the back before moving off to go talk with the other two men. Rick slung his rifle over his shoulder and pulled out a charm his grandfather had given him when he turned twelve. The charm, carved from some animal bone to resemble a valiant warrior, wasn't anything special. However, when his grandfather had given it to him, he told Rick that if he kept it with him he would always be protected.

  Rick pulled it out and whispered a little prayer as he walked.

  It wasn't long before Wells raised his right hand in a fist giving the signal for the team to halt. Rick scampered up to the scouts asking what was up. Jacobson pointed to an old, broken-down wooden sign that read “Welcome to Limavady. Population 12,312.” Rick could tell that the other men were uneasy.

  The only thing out of the ordinary was the eerie moaning of the wind as it passed through the gnarled branches of the nearby trees. Sergeant McAvoy stepped over to converse with Wells and then gave the team the signal to move forward.

  All four men walked into town with their rifles at the ready, dodging tumbleweeds that bounced along the empty streets. Rick passed by an old abandoned car and could see fast food boxes, empty soda cans, and outdated newspapers. All that remained were the shattered remains of a ghost town, pocked with black scorch marks and white outlines.

  Rick was beginning to feel nauseous again and the bile rose up in his throat. Something about the scorch marks and outlines reminded him of the walls in and around the city of Hiroshima, Japan.

  Rick ran his hand slowly down a nearby wall tracing the outline of a small child. In his head, he could hear screams of terror. A cold chill ran down his spine when he envisioned the flames erupting from the sky and heralding their doom while people tried to run away.

  The ab
solute silence of the streets accompanied by the occasional unsettling moaning of the wind rattled his nerves. Rick clicked on the communications device attached to the collar of his jacket. "Is anyone else getting a creepy vibe from this place?"

  Wells jumped on the comm line. "Do we need to pull out the rubber underpants for you, Morgan?"

  The other two men laughed over the comm line and then Sergeant McAvoy told everyone to be silent.

  "As creepy as this place is,” he said. “We need to find somewhere to set up base camp. The remaining buildings ahead may be our best bet. I'd like to stay here for the evening and recon the area before venturing west. I'm pretty sure we all agree that when nightfall arrives we don't want to be caught outdoors in case the Beast is still here."

  Wells leaned in next to Rick's ear. "Are you sure you can make it overnight, Greenie? Do you need me to put in a request for your big brother to come help you sleep tonight?"

  Rick wanted to spin around and punch Wells in the face, but he knew better than to do that.

  Sergeant McAvory spoke up. "Alright, I want us to split up into two groups. Wells and Jacobson, you head east and then south before circling back. Be careful out there as we have no clue what we're up against. Morgan, you're with me. You and I will go scout out some of these buildings to see if we can find a place to set up camp."

  Wells and Jacobson nodded and proceeded down an alleyway heading east.

  "Have fun, Greenie!" Wells called back over the comm line.

  Rick groaned.

  McAvoy clapped Rick on the back. "Get over it. Wells wouldn't continue to razz you if he didn't like you. Think of it as a rite of passage. You should have seen what he did to poor Jacobson when he first signed on to the team. Now look at them. But I’ll admit that the comment about your brother was a low blow even for him."