by David Meyer
She shook her head. “If that were the case, we’d expect to see a strong correlation between the rate of extinction and the growth of the human population. But no such correlation exists. And on a separate note, just consider the case of ancient North America. How many people could’ve lived here ten thousand years ago?”
“Thousands?” Mills guessed. “Tens of thousands?”
“Exactly. Far fewer than would’ve been necessary to drive entire genera into extinction. And ancient hunters didn’t even have guns. They used arrows and spears, which weren’t easy to make but quite simple to break. Furthermore, while some ancient Americans were nomads, many others lived in defined areas, leaving massive amounts of land unoccupied. Ancient hunters, lacking cars or trains, had no easy way of accessing that land.” Morgan paused for a moment. “No, it wasn’t overhunting. And climate change doesn’t work either. Global temperatures did increase during that period. But many of the animals that went extinct had survived similar temperature changes in the past.”
Mills crossed her arms. “Enough stalling, Amanda. What caused the Quaternary extinction event?”
“Simply put, it was a reaction to an even earlier event.” She paused. “Sixty-five million years ago, the dinosaurs died out. Land mammals took over Earth. But none of them were big enough to fill the dinosaurs’ shoes, so to speak. Usually, evolution has a way of sorting these things out. And sure enough, mammals underwent a growth spurt for the next thirty million years. Paraceratherium transouralicum, for instance, reached a shoulder height of sixteen feet. Its neck was another seven to eight feet long, giving it a total height in excess of twenty feet. This growth spurt was nature’s way of filling an ecological niche.”
“Or not.” Toland looked bored. “Mammals never reached the size of dinosaurs. At least not until the behemoths came around.”
“And that’s exactly the problem. Mammals hit a plateau—James’ scientists refer to it as the Mammalian Plateau—about thirty-five million years ago. As a result, an entire ecological niche went unfulfilled. That was when the food chain truly started to unravel. It caused the Quaternary extinction event, which in turn, led to the present Holocene extinction.” Morgan paused to take a breath. “We thought James was trying to reel back time to the Pleistocene epoch. But he was actually trying to arrange things as if the Mammalian Plateau had never happened.”
“I see,” Caplan said slowly. “Mammals should’ve evolved to dinosaur-like sizes. When they didn’t, it caused a ripple effect through history.”
She nodded.
“I don’t buy it,” Toland remarked. “If Mother Nature changed her mind, she had to have a good reason for it.”
“You’d think so. But if one exists, James’ scientists never found it. Bottom line, mammals should’ve kept growing. They didn’t and now everything is dying.”
“So, we can’t kill the behemoths,” Mills said. “I mean, even if we were capable of killing them, we couldn’t do it.”
Morgan nodded. “That’s correct. They’re absolutely essential to stopping this extinction.”
“Then why haven’t they worked yet?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe James didn’t engineer enough of them. Or maybe the problem is the bloodlust we’ve witnessed in all of his creations. Or maybe it’s something else I haven’t even considered yet. That’s why I need to go to Danter. If they can help me figure out what went wrong, I might be able to fix it.” A slight smile cracked her lips. “Maybe, just maybe, that’ll end the Holocene extinction once and for all.”
Chapter 9
Date: November 24, 2017, 11:46 p.m.; Location: Belkop, NH
The saber-toothed tiger, known by some as Saber, stared across the ruined landscape, undisputed king of all it surveyed. And yet, it was bewildered. Bewildered and torn by strange, conflicting purposes. It didn’t fully understand the many bizarre things that surrounded it. But it wasn’t entirely ignorant either.
For instance, it understood that it was, in some peculiar way, too large for this world. It knew this because its prey, full of bony meat and pungent red blood, was much too small for even a tiny snack. It also understood that its desire to eat went deeper than mere hunger. It wasn’t out to just fill its belly. It didn’t even like the taste of prey all that much. What it really desired was the slight relief it received every time that pungent red blood touched its tongue. Relief from that infernal ringing noise, relief from those weird sensations in its head. Eating prey caused it to feel, well, normal. At least for a little while.
Saber heard familiar bursts of noise along with growls, roars, and screeches. Angling its sixty-foot tall body, it cut between two dark structures, pausing only to peer inside the little gaps. Prey liked to hole up inside them so sometimes it found food this way.
Seeing nothing, it continued toward the noises. Before long, it saw frenzied activity, bright lights, and thick smoke. Farther back, it saw prey lined up behind barricades. Each one was just a fraction of its height and nowhere near its length. They carried little objects, weapons of some sort, that did no real damage. A couple of those annoying fire spitters sat near the prey. They were all aimed at an enormous four-legged beast with roundish ears, a light mane, and coarse fur. The fur was colored dark orange with faint black stripes.
Looking past the beast, Saber saw two more behemoths. One creature possessed long legs. Parallel horns stuck out of its skull. Another one walked in a hunched manner on four legs. Occasionally, it would rise up on its back legs before falling back to the earth with a resounding crash.
All around these beasts lay the remains of a vicious battle. Dead prey lay strewn about the ground, some crushed underfoot, others eaten. Fire spitters, smashed to pieces, spat smoke into the sky. Tall structures, damaged but not destroyed, leaned precariously in all directions.
The beast roared as fire continued to assault its thick hide. It tried to swipe at one of the spitters, but was driven back by even more fire.
Saber cocked its head. It wasn’t related to this particular beast or any of the other ones for that matter. But it could sense them, even communicate with them.
Claws clicking loudly, it raced onto a hard, dark surface. Prey spun toward it and their features, so visible to its ultra-keen eyes, recoiled in fright. Immediately, the spitters twisted its way. Fire slammed into its legs. Undeterred, it leapt onto the front end of a spitter. The spitter went airborne, spinning on end. Extending its paw, Saber slapped the spitter, sending it flying into a group of prey.
Prey scattered and tried to surround Saber. But their weapons—even the spitters—were of little use. Blood and sparks flew as the behemoth continued its attack.
Afterward, Saber lurched upward and roared at the moon. The other beasts wandered out onto the battlefield and started to feast on the dead prey.
And that was when Saber struck.
It launched itself at the beast, sinking its long teeth into coarse fur and thick hide. The confused beast whimpered and flopped on the ground. Another fierce bite put it out of its misery.
Saber turned on the other two behemoths. It dove at the horned creature, knocking it to the ground. Swiftly, it clawed a couple of gaping holes in the creature’s belly. The creature exhaled a loud gasp, then fell still.
Seeing this, the hunched behemoth tried to retreat. But Saber pounced on it and pinned it to the ground. It swatted at the behemoth’s face and then bit down on its neck, instantly killing the animal.
Afterward, Saber rose up on all fours. Then it crisscrossed the battlefield, sniffing at the prey and feeding on them. Some prey were still alive and tried to fight. It liked eating them most of all. Never mind the taste. The blood of the still-living, for whatever reason, provided the most relief.
It ate a little more and continued to sniff the ground, searching for the scent. The one that had plagued it for as long as it could remember. The one that had somehow triggered that infernal ringing noise. But it was unable to pick up even a trace of the smell.
As Saber turned to leave,
it caught sight of the three dead behemoths. As was its practice, it didn’t feed on them. Instead, it moved onward, in search of the scent.
Always in search of the scent.
Chapter 10
Date: November 25, 2017, 7:53 p.m.; Location: Danter, ME
“I can’t believe this.” Mills’ jaw fell slack as she stared out the side window. “I mean, I knew it was bad. But actually seeing it …” She trailed off.
A yawn, borne from frenzied nerves and sheer exhaustion, escaped Caplan’s lips. The drive, which would’ve taken maybe a half-hour in the old world, had lasted nearly four times that long due to blocked and mangled roads.
He stopped the van at the edge of the woods and cut the headlights. Up ahead, a large bonfire illuminated the remains of Danter. Short buildings and small homes sat in crumbling states. The streets were ripped apart and filled with smashed and abandoned vehicles. Parking meters, mailboxes, and stoplights lay scattered amongst brown grass and dying vegetation.
Graves lay on the outskirts of Danter. Dozens of them from the looks of it. Many of the residents had succumbed to HA-78. Others, he knew, had been killed by behemoths and reborn megafauna.
He exhaled. It pained him to see Danter like this, more dead than alive. From his vantage point, he could just make out the charred remains of Danter Library. He’d spent a lot of wonderful afternoons in that musty, old building, consuming strange books on legends and mysteries under the distrustful eye of Head Librarian Luann Cordell. Now, the building was gone, living on only in the memories of those who’d crossed its hallowed threshold.
Exhaling again, he snuck a glimpse at Morgan. She sat to his right, nestled between him and Mills. Her lips were pursed, her eyes were focused on her future.
Danter meant a lot to him. But in all honesty, it was nothing, a mere blip on the map. And yet, it had been ravaged by behemoths and targeted by soldiers. And Morgan and Elliott wanted to live there? Were they crazy?
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” he asked quietly.
Morgan nodded.
“Then hurry up already,” Toland muttered. “It’s cramped back here.”
Caplan shot him an annoyed look. “Knock it off, Brian.”
“No, he’s right.” Morgan waited for Mills to exit the car before climbing outside. She grabbed a duffel bag, which was filled with several sets of clothes, some personal items, and the logbook, and hiked around to Caplan’s window. “Take care of yourself,” she said quietly.
“You too.” He hesitated. “Do me a favor. When you get to that bonfire, shoot me a wave. Just so I know you’re okay.”
“Will do.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Take care of yourself.”
She said her goodbyes to Mills and Toland. Then she and Elliott began walking toward Danter.
Caplan placed his elbow on the windowsill and sank into his seat. He felt raw and numb on the inside. He’d miss Morgan. Elliott, too, of course. But he and Morgan had a much longer and richer history together. Life wouldn’t be the same without her.
“We’re wasting time,” Toland barked. “Let’s go.”
“Keep your drawers on,” Mills retorted. “We’re just making sure they’re okay.”
“What’s the point? They’ll be dead soon anyway.”
Caplan’s lips drew tight, but he refrained from saying anything. Instead, he watched Morgan and Elliott hike all the way to the bonfire. Morgan turned to wave. But at the last second, she hesitated. Adopting a fast pace, she and Elliott hurried across the intersection and passed out of view.
Mills frowned. “What was that?”
“I don’t know.” Caplan leaned forward. A couple of tense seconds passed as he waited for Morgan’s wave. But she didn’t reappear. “Something’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Toland said. “They just forgot about us. Which, incidentally, is exactly what we should be doing about them.”
Caplan gave Mills a look. She arched her eyebrows.
Quietly, he turned the ignition. Keeping his window down and the headlights off, he edged the van out of the woods and drove into Danter.
“Not much of a welcome wagon,” Mills remarked. “Where is everyone?”
Tension built in Caplan’s shoulders as he drove down Main Street. Ahead, he saw the bonfire. Constructed from dead trees and long, dry branches, it was positioned at the intersection of Main and Maple.
Dim noise rose up from the night. He heard rushing wind, flickering flames, and burning leaves. But he heard chatter as well. The words were difficult to distinguish, but they were fueled by ire and disdain.
You should turn around, he told himself. Before it’s too late. But of course, he kept driving anyway.
The glow brightened as they neared the bonfire. At the corner of Maple Street, Caplan hung a right. Immediately, he hit the brakes and gawked at the sight before him.
Dozens of Danter residents were lined up on one side of the street. Soldiers, dressed in combat uniforms and bulletproof vests, stood in front of the civilians. Long rifles, slung around their necks, filled their hands.
Farther back, Caplan saw the old baseball field. Three transport helicopters, rotors stilled and lights darkened, rested in the middle of it.
Switching his attention back to the civilians, Caplan saw Ross. He spotted Morgan and Elliott as well. They stood spread-eagled up against a wall with their bags at their feet. Two soldiers were busy patting them down.
He shifted his gaze back to the street. His pulse quickened as he spotted five other people. They lay on the pavement, their bodies riddled with bullets. One deceased man in particular caught his eye.
No, he thought, his lip curling in fury. Not Mike.
A woman twisted toward the van. Her almond-shaped eyes stared at him like he was some kind of bug. Unlike the soldiers, she wore jeans and a gray shirt. A dark red cloak hung over her shoulders and draped down to her ankles. She looked gritty, but regal. Like a warlord of the streets.
A man stood next to her. He wore a bulletproof vest and carried a rifle. Red-faced and overly muscular, he reminded Caplan of a gym rat with a penchant for the needle.
Mills exhaled. “It looks like Danter’s blackmailers decided to swing by a little early.”
Caplan nodded. “They must’ve caught wind of Noel’s plan.”
“Who cares?” Toland hissed. “Get us out of here.”
The warlord called out an order. Soldiers rotated toward the van. Their faces hardened. Their rifles swung into position.
Caplan hesitated for a split-second. He couldn’t just leave Morgan and Elliott with these monsters. Anyway escape was impossible. The soldiers would fill the van with bullets long before he drove out of harm’s way. So, he did the only thing he could do. He gritted his teeth.
And stomped on the gas pedal.
Chapter 11
Date: November 25, 2017, 8:11 p.m.; Location: Danter, ME
Gunfire filled the cold night. A series of tiny sparks flew up from the pavement. Caplan yanked the steering wheel to the left, then to the right. The gunfire lessened as soldiers dove out of the way.
He slammed the brakes, halting the vehicle next to Morgan and Elliott.
“Get in,” Mills yelled.
Morgan shoved a soldier. He bumped into another one and they fell into a heap of limbs.
“Now’s our chance.” Ross’ voice, loud and fierce, filled the air. “Run for it!”
The Danter residents scattered in all directions. Some ran down Maple Street. Others ducked into alleys, doorways, or scampered over rubble. Still others attacked the soldiers, wrenching away their rifles. Fists flew and more gunfire pierced the air as small, pitched battles rang out.
Morgan grabbed her duffel bag. Then she and Elliott raced to the back of the van. Throwing open the door, they climbed into the cargo space.
“Go,” Mills shouted.
Caplan sped to the end of Maple Street and hung a right. He shot a quick glimpse at the helicopters and was relieved
to see their rotors were still quiet. Gunning the engine, he raced out of town.
And into the waiting night.
Chapter 12
Date: November 25, 2017, 10:06 p.m.; Location: Danter, ME
Caplan slammed the brakes, bringing the van to a screeching halt. He dimmed the headlights and shut off the engine. Perking his ears, he listened for whirring rotors and buzzing engines. But the night sky remained quiet.
“Take us to Danter, she said,” Toland muttered. “Everything will be fine, she said.”
“Shut up, Brian.” Mills nodded at Morgan. “This isn’t her fault.”
“No? Then how else did we get into this mess?”
“We’re not in a mess.” She stared at the sky. “Not yet.”
“Oh, I feel way better now.”
“Stop arguing.” Caplan swiveled his head toward the cabin. “And start packing. Grab only the things you need. Plus, as much food and water as we can carry.”
“At last.” Toland smiled. “Mr. Survival chips in with a rare bit of sound thinking.”
Mills gave Caplan a look. Can I punch him? she mouthed.
Sure, he mouthed in response. Just aim for his head. There’s nothing in there to hurt anyway.
She chuckled.
Morgan shrugged off her duffel bag. “Obviously, I’m already packed so I’ll help with the food and water. How long before we leave?”
“We’re not leaving,” Caplan replied.
“And just like that, Mr. Survival returns to dolt status,” Toland quipped.
“They’ve got helicopters and we’ll be easy to spot on the road,” he explained. “For now, it’s better to keep a low profile. We’ll park the van in the woods, all packed up in case we need to make a quick escape. We’ll use branches to cover up the Rexto. If we do it right, this place will look vacant in no time.”
Toland gave him a weary look. “You’re happy about this, aren’t you?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because you get to keep us here, under your thumb. Living like cavemen, fulfilling your pathetic survivalist fantasies.”
