by Hanks, Greg
I counted with him in my mind.
One.
Two.
Three.
Gushing liquid rushed past my legs, draining into the tunnel below. Finally, as the door peaked, the surge of water grew as tall as me, pouring furiously. The raging water roared. I thought it would never cease.
But the level receded and the last of the water trickled out of the Vista, pooling in various crevices and dousing our platform in strikingly green water.
“This stuff’s the same color . . .” said Dodge, sounding a little forlorn.
“Lights,” said Bollis, and everyone ignited their torches at the ends of their rifles.
Bollis was the first to go. He breached the corner and led the rest of us into the massive, gaping cavern.
It was a cave. As dark and as damp, as chilling and as eerie as any cave that had probably ever existed. Water dripped from every inch of the ceiling, echoing off of the great stone walls. Configured like Central, the Vista had a raised platform in the center of the room, with screens, computers, and a bunch of other wrecked and waterlogged equipment. I shined my light at one of the corners, finding the breach. Like a hissing cobra, ocean water was spraying every direction, dousing Bollis as he approached.
While everyone situated, curiosity bested me. I continued past them, stepping through the small deluge, into the darker reaches of the Vista. When I rounded the pedestal, a pillar of adrenaline rose through me.
Thick, grooved tentacles each with the girth of a water bottle lay across the floor and wall. I followed the scaly tubes all the way to the corner, too afraid to speak. I held my breath as I approached the source: a mound of pale green and amber flesh, wriggling and highly disfigured. It was pulsating, making the tentacles protruding from its body squirm and twitch. Keeping my weapon drawn, I carefully stepped through the maze of appendages. I could feel my suit struggling to wick away the great amounts of sweat coming from my jittery body.
I could hear Tara and Dodge asking for me. I was mentally alone, enthralled by the strange creature in front of me. I wanted nothing more than to know what it was, and how it had managed to break through the exterior of the Underbed. I took one more step forward, salivating for answers, when a curdled screech broke the silence like a supernova.
It came at me like a pouncing baboon. The mound of unrecognizable flesh had turned into a blurry humanoid. I tried kicking it off, but it was heavy, like a massive sea lion, blubbering on top of my body, scratching, writhing, screaming. My own cries added to the confusion, calling the others to my aid. I couldn’t see anything. The backup night vision in my helmet went berserk as the creature slapped my face and kept me from seeing clearly.
Another terribly haunting scream echoed throughout the Vista. It leapt from my body. I gasped, immediately rolling over onto my stomach. I refocused and retrieved my rifle from the blackened, shallow water.
Gunfire railed the walls and ricocheted everywhere. I heard the deep bellowing of Vexin’s shotgun, and a few rounds of the pistols. Finally, my vision returned from a static wave and I rushed around the circular pedestal.
I stopped and almost dropped my weapon.
Like an orangutan, the creature was perched on one of the computers, its arms dangling in front. It had no neck or distinguishable shoulders. There were just gangling arms attached to the oozing trunk and short, stocky legs, almost crumpled beneath. It’s nose was gone, and the eyes sat on far ends of the face, twitching and drooped. Below, the ever-open mouth screamed and sprayed a phlegm-like substance toward us. The creature was naked, layered with decaying skin, visible bones, and organs that were discernible from open parts of its stomach area.
The carrion beast bounded away just as Vexin pocked the area with his shotgun. Sparks flew everywhere, and I heard Celia trying to tell us to move away from the technology.
“Outside!” I yelled.
The group started to make their way to the lighted exit.
I felt a bruise starting to sprout underneath my suit where the creature had pounded me. I winced with each step as I leapt out of the deafening Vista, splashed through the raised platform, and jumped into the murky depths of the water below.
My feet slammed into the concrete, and I pushed up, emerging from the water just as another banshee shriek filled the entire tunnel. I looked up at the opening to see Dodge pulling up the rear and attempting to jump out of the Vista, but the creature caught him mid-air and they both went sailing into a semi-shallow demise.
I waded to the aid of my friend, as Vexin, Tara, and Bollis took refuge upon the stairs of the platform. The liquid molasses pulled my Oversuit as if I were weighted with plates of lead.
Dodge tried to get a shot off as the creature struggled to wrap its skeleton arms around his neck. Once I came close enough, I ripped the creature’s head away and pulled the slippery body from Dodge. It shrieked and writhed within my grip, splashing like a child afraid to swim.
“Got it!” announced Celia.
It only took me a second to understand what she meant, as the water line started to lower. The creature flailed and wagged his head, trying to escape my clutches, but Dodge had his pistol up to its face, ready to discharge a fresh bullet. The creature had no inhibitions or reflexes, but continued to wrench its head around. I tilted to the side, and Dodge tried for a second shot.
The head exploded, showering my helmet with green and yellow pus. I felt the body relax and I dropped it to the floor, just as the water withdrew.
“What. The. Hell. Was that?” shouted Dodge, crouching to observe the corpse.
The others ran to our side and Tara placed her hand upon my shoulder.
“Are you okay?!” she asked.
I couldn’t speak. I had prepared to fight soldiers. Not that. That kind of fear hadn’t been extinguished.
“Vane,” said Bollis, “we might have another complication.”
37
Roger Celement led a group of soldiers down a metal staircase. Oil and rubber filled their nostrils. Jersey City was working tirelessly above them, unaware of the escalating agenda about to commence. Precious information sat at the base of Roger’s tongue. As he marched toward the military humvees, his mind worked furiously.
How am I going to do it? What kind of torture would inflict the greatest amount of pain? Bending fingernails? Ripping teeth? Breaking bones? Multiple bones?
His team moved past him and occupied the vehicles. Celement hopped in the front seat of his particular choice, and turned to his driver.
“Did you bring the tools I requested?” he asked in a proper, almost high-pitched voice.
The driver nodded underneath his black, armored suit. Celement turned to the window and felt a rush of endorphins fill his body. He inhaled and smiled as if he were a child going to Disneyland.
Celement was a thin, gaunt man with short, tabby hair. His cockeye wandered about, unable to settle on one point while engaging in conversation. His smile was a squished prune, producing tiny bubbles from his hyper-productive salivary glands.
As the humvee pulled out of the garage and bounced across the road, Celement thought about their destination. He imagined places that would double as a torture premise, or a scenario that could utilize all of his tools.
After a lengthy ride, they passed through the crumbled gate and parked in front of the only untouched building in the demolished compound. Celement opened his door and smelled the fresh sea air, which he promptly spit back upon the debris-ridden floor.
This is the final project. This will get me to the top. When we succeed, it will be me sitting at that table of idiots, instead of that stupid bitch, Sapphira.
Once his team had collected their equipment, loaded their weapons, and secured their armor, everyone surrounded Celement.
“We all know the plan,” said the cockeyed fellow. “I chose this group because you were the best we had. Remember why we’re here. We take our target and the boy. We kill the rest. But don’t get too trigger happy,” he paused, as
if smelling a sweet aroma, “I want to have my fun with them before the night is out.”
As the team approached the compound, Celement caught a glimpse of a sign, protruding through a pile of debris. The words only empowered him as he read:
ELLIS ISLAND STERILE COMMUNITY
38
“We’re not trained for this,” said Bollis.
We had been stewing over the attack for a good fifteen minutes.
“This was like nothing we’ve prepared for,” he continued. “What if GenoTec has more of these?”
“So you’re just going to quit then?” sneered Vexin. He and Bollis had never really gotten along too well.
“What happens when we walk into Jersey City and find another one of these—twelve more of these?! I’m starting to get the feeling we know nothing about GenoTec!” He stomped away, fuming from the ears.
I wasn’t expecting that sort of blow up from Bollis, of all people. The usually calm, mild mannered mentor was having a meltdown. I didn’t like it. To me, Bollis embodied the hope I had in what I was doing. He had always given me strength and security, a knowing that I could count on him. But seeing him like that, it was a little unsettling.
“It doesn’t matter anymore, Bollis!” snarled Vexin. They stood toe to toe. “We’ve been waiting long enough. We’re running out of time. I didn’t give three years of my life just to argue like a bunch of children.”
“Vexin’s right,” said Vane, bringing down the gavel. I was startled by his cold, raspy voice, pricking my ear like a burrowing insect. “We move on. We can deal with this later. Right now, you five have an objective to finish. Celia and I will take care of this . . . thing.”
Maybe the reason Bollis was so upset was the fact that he considered himself responsible. He didn’t want anything to happen to us. After Vane, he was surely our leader. In fact, I often viewed Bollis at a higher state than Vane. There was something to be said about the teacher who worked amongst his followers, instead of staying back, watching like a vulture as his subordinates were consumed.
“Bollis . . .” said Dodge, shaking his head ever so slightly. He was the only one capable of calming Bollis down. His tone was stern, yet full of caution. Dodge knew just as much as I that Bollis couldn’t afford to break down. It would affect us all.
Vexin took the opportunity to lead and said, “Let’s move.”
We left the oozing corpse behind us and hurried to the Vista. It felt incredible to be back on solid ground, unfettered by the water’s hands. We powered through the rest of the tunnel, up the stairs, and through the giant Vista doors.
Celia directed us to where we needed to go. Bollis went to configure the power, Vexin was sent to take the emergency hull covers and patch the hole, Tara and I started to find the jamming equipment, and Dodge was left to clean up the vine-like mess that the creature had created.
As soon as Bollis finished, Celia overrode the system and allowed him time to help Vexin with the patch. Vexin stood upon a ladder, tinkering with the shredded hull, trying to avoid the water. Bollis waited below, holding a malleable slab of metal in one hand, and a rivet gun in the other.
“What the hell?” said Vexin. I could hear his voice in my helmet, but Tara and I were too busy to check.
“What?” asked Bollis, dancing around the incessant flow.
“There’s like a—there’s like some kind of room up here.”
“What are you talking about?” Bollis tried to get a better view.
“I’m telling you, there’s an attic up here. And it’s—God, it’s filthy. The water’s coming from a second roof.” Vexin and Bollis continued to debate, while Tara and I didn’t have time to wonder what they were bickering about.
“What is it supposed to look like?” I asked Celia as we ran along the edges of the room, scanning for the jamming mainframe. Celia seemed frustrated having to explain twice, but described some kind of large disc hanging from the wall.
“Here!” said Tara, rushing beside me.
Just as her torch illuminated the mainframe, the Vista’s own lights came on like sparkling fireworks. After an initial struggle, the place lit up like an Olympic event.
“Hell, it still works!” shouted Dodge with a tentacle over his shoulder.
“I knew it would,” Celia said.
Tara and I configured the jamming equipment and got it running as Dodge approached.
“I give up,” he said. “That stuff is too engrained.”
“It’s responding!” Celia sighed in relief.
I could taste the satisfaction in her voice. I couldn’t fathom the time and effort she had given to Genesis. And now, to be so close to the end. Her dedication humbled me.
“Just take the damn patch, Vexin!” Bollis and Vex were still arguing. Vexin’s body was halfway through the roof, standing upon the highest tier of the ladder.
“You gotta see this!” Vexin shouted, barely audible over the rushing water.
At the far end of the tunnel, something rumbled, shaking the entire concrete structure. The giant undulation felt like an underwater earthquake.
The gushing water bridged our silence. We stood taut, ready to move at the slightest inkling. I watched the Vista entrance as if I were watching a terror attack on national television.
Celia’s voice came through as a garbled harbinger of death. “They’re here!”
I could barely capture Dodge as he flew out of the Vista.
39
Dodge barreled down the tunnel’s gullet, us in tow. All I could think about was Celement. I brought my rifle around and held it straight, suppressor aloft. We reached the door to Central just as another muffled explosion came from inside.
Dodge whipped his M580 from his back and practically slammed his fist into the door release. No matter how many times he pressed it, the massive slab wouldn’t budge. Aiya was out of commission, too. We were this close to stopping Celement from killing Celia, Vane, and Justin, yet we couldn’t do anything about it.
Dodge swore loudly at the door, hitting it with his palm and looking around in desperation.
“Get a damn grip!” growled Vexin, pushing Dodge aside. Before Dodge could retaliate, Bollis stepped forward with a handful of plastic explosives.
Thank God.
“You brought some?!” Dodge said incredulously.
“I always do,” said Bollis, kneeling to prepare the charges.
I looked at Tara, who wouldn’t take her eyes off of the door. It was Justin. She was only thinking about the eleven-year-old boy who was probably dead by now.
“Okay stand back.” He stepped away, holding a device the size of a thumb drive. “Eyes up—when this thing goes, we’ve got to make every shot count.”
Once everyone took a safe position, Bollis ignited the bombs and the solid concrete became a pile of rubble.
The first bullet whizzed by my head like a demon hornet. The second door had already been breached. We immediately took cover on either side of the threshold, situating ourselves and waiting for Bollis to give the word.
“Go!”
Dodge knelt down, issued a few cover shots, giving Vexin enough time to lob a grenade out into the fray. Not a second after the small bomb left his fingertips, Tara and I broke away from the pack and showered the opening while Dodge and Bollis crouch-ran through the antechamber and took positions behind fallen pieces of concrete. Once our clips were exhausted, Vexin came out with a hearty round of shotgun shells, giving Tara and me a chance to join the party.
Everything was doused in a thick layer of black smoke. Central looked and felt disfigured in the light of dancing flames, my tinted visor, and the frequent crack of gunfire. It’s like we weren’t in Central at all. This room was a war zone now, changed forever.
Just as I reloaded fresh magazines into my weapon, two soldiers dressed in the same inky, bolstered armor sprouted up around the crumbled tall pillars of what was once the control platform. One came low and one high. Bollis’ ELBR dispatched the one on the floor, putti
ng three holes in his visor, while I sent the other flying to his back.
On the elevator side of the room, Tara, Dodge, and Vexin were wreaking havoc. Each shot made contact. We were so meticulous and aware of our surroundings. I heeded no fearful emotions. I felt no remorse. All I registered was the smell of fresh carnage. And it only made me stronger.
Vexin’s shotgun obliterated a soldier’s head, while Tara colored the other wall with two bodies, leaving Dodge to precisely pick off three others with his M580. In the moment, it seemed almost beautiful.
We had successfully flanked each side of the pedestal, leaving nothing in our wake. It was the fastest minute of my life. My breath was short, my fingers tense. I felt alive and ridiculously powerful. Once our rampage had ceased, the silent atmosphere brought a foreboding realization with it.
The final body to drop was the lucky metal-head to have his stomach blown out by Vexin’s Stauss 4. The corpse clanked on the cold floor, while Vexin cocked his weapon, discharging the killing shell to its victim.
“They’re not here!” shouted Dodge.
We were searching frantically for our friends, looking underneath the remains of the control platform. I flung piece after piece of technology and rubble, hoping desperately to find any sign of Justin. I was a frenzied mess, along with Dodge, trying to uncover what simply wasn’t there.
“Over here!” yelled Tara.
Everyone converged on her position like bloodhounds.
“No!” exclaimed Dodge in such desperation that I felt my heart fall thirty stories.
It was Celia. Her lifeless body was twisted in an unnatural state, half covered in fallen concrete. The only thing recognizable was her thick-rimmed glasses.
“No,” mumbled Dodge, unlatching his helmet and cradling her body, “no, please, God, no.”
Tara was kneeling beside the two, while the rest of us watched in awe as one of our best friends lied in Dodge’s arms like a piece of trashed meat. I felt my body quake inside. My burst of energy and excitement was gone in a matter of seconds. All that was left were feelings of despair.
