The Praegressus Project: Part One

by Aaron Hodges

  Ahead, Chris’s keen eyes made out the shadows of men standing in a circle. Without thinking, he leapt towards them. But Liz’s hand flashed out and caught him by the wrist, holding him back, dragging him down behind a fallen tree. She raised a finger to her lips as Chris opened his mouth to argue, and the words died on his tongue.

  Silence fell as they crouched in the darkness. Chris struggled to control his breathing, to slow the wild beating of his heart. Slowly the stupidity of their mad rush trickled through his consciousness. From the brief glimpse he’d seen, there were at least a dozen men in the forest. Each would to be armed to the teeth, and would not hesitate to kill. If not for the other shadows racing towards the campsite, Chris guessed they would have been shot already.

  He glanced again at Liz, offering his silent thanks for her intervention. She nodded back, and together they lifted their heads above the fallen tree and peered out.

  The circle of men Chris had glimpsed a moment before stood twenty feet away, and as they watched several more shadows moved from the surrounding trees to join them. Through the darkness, Chris could see nothing of the men’s uniforms or military association, but the rifles they carried were clear enough. They held them with a professional ease, a few pointing out at the surrounding trees, while the others kept their weapons trained on the prisoners in the centre of the circle.

  Richard, Jasmine, and the girl knelt between soldiers, their hands held behind their heads, eyes fixed to the ground.

  Chris cursed silently to himself, wondering how the three had been taken unawares. He bit his lip as he studied the men, his heart sinking. He saw now they wore goggles over their eyes, no doubt some form of infrared technology that allowed them to see in the dark. There would be no taking them by surprise.

  “What do we do?” he whispered to Liz.

  “We have to save them,” she replied.

  Shaking his head, Chris glanced at her. “Do you really think they’d do the same for us?”

  Her eyes found him in the darkness, clear and resolute. “It doesn’t matter. Whether we like it or not, they’re all we’ve got now. We can’t leave them.”

  Chris let out a long sigh and looked away. He clenched his fingers in the dirt, struggling to think, to find some argument against Liz’s words. But in his heart, he knew they were true. Friend or foe, the five of them were all that remained now of the hundreds who had suffered the horrors of the facility. For better or worse, they were bound by that experience.

  “Please,” he looked up as Richard’s voice carried through the trees, “Please, don’t do this. Don’t make us go back.”

  Most of the men ignored the desperate plea, but one stepped in close to the prisoners. Raising his rifle, he slammed the butt into Richard’s face. Richard reeled backwards from the blow, his arms wind-milling as he crashed to the dirt. He recovered quickly, and with a roar, leapt to his feet.

  “Don’t,” the soldier spoke in a calm tone, “unless you want to sign your friends’ death warrants.”

  Richard froze, his body taught, his fists clenched at his side. A tremor went through him as he looked at the man. A long moment past, as the shadowy men edged closer to the prisoners, guns raised. Then Richard’s shoulders slumped, and he bowed his head in defeat.

  “Excellent,” the man nodded, then waved at the circle of soldiers, “Pack em up, boys. The other two are still out there somewhere. There’s a good chance they’ll be back. I want these subjects secured before they do.”

  Several of the soldiers lowered their weapons and leapt to do the man’s bidding. Pulling handcuffs from their belts, they stepped towards Richard and the others, as the remaining soldiers covered them with their rifles.

  “Now’s our chance,” Liz whispered.

  Chris nodded, eying the space between them and the group of soldiers. Pre-occupied with their prisoners, the soldiers had taken their eyes from the surrounding trees. If Chris and Liz were quick, they could take them by surprise. Even with their goggles, the men would be at a disadvantage in the darkness, and in the confusion, Richard and the others might have a chance to slip free.

  Silently, Chris gathered himself to attack.

  Before he could move, a sharp crack came from behind them, and a voice growled from the darkness.

  “Stop.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Captain Scott crossed his arms as he watched his men securing the prisoners. Covered by their comrades, two stepped towards the boy, slinging their rifles over their backs as they moved. They grabbed the boy by each arm and forced them behind his back. The half-folded wings that sprouted from the small of his back made the task difficult, and the boy clearly had no intention of making things easier.

  “Please,” the boy begged as a third soldier stepped forward with the handcuffs. “You don’t know what you’re doing. What they’ll do to us.”

  Stepping forward, Scott stared down at the boy, reading the terror in his eyes. The prisoner tried to flinch away, but his men held him tight, looking to their captain in question.

  Scott shook his head. His fist flashed out, catching the prisoner in the face. He reeled backwards, and only the men holding his arms kept him from falling.

  “Silence,” Scott growled, “By the law of our land, you should be dead. You were offered mercy, offered a chance at redemption. But you threw it all away,” he raised his fist again, his anger catching light.

  Before the blow could fall, a blood curdling howl echoed through the trees. He froze, staring at the prisoner for a second, and then whirled to face the forest. The darkness was absolute, but with the night vision goggles any heat signatures approaching their position would be obvious.

  There was nothing.

  His men shifted nervously around him as they scanned their surrounds, weapons at the ready. Scott took a step towards the trees, unslinging his rifle as he moved. Beyond the circle of his men, the forest was empty.

  Shaking his head, he cast one last glance at the pitch-black trees, and then started to bark fresh orders to secure the prisoners. Before he could finish the command, an audible thud came from behind him.

  And then someone began to scream.

  Scott spun, raising his rifle to fire, already cursing his decision not to execute the prisoners. Whatever their orders, he should have trusted his instincts. He had seen Chead in action, glimpsed the aftermath of their slaughter inside the facility. However pathetic the three teenagers seemed, they were far too dangerous to hold.

  But as he turned, he realised the three prisoners were still kneeling on the ground where he had left them. Making a decision, he pointed his rifle, but before he could fire the glowing outline of a man staggered into his line of sight. The man reached out a hand, fumbling at his vest, and then collapsed soundlessly to the ground.

  As he went down, another figure moved within the circle of his men. Even in the strange glow of his night vision goggles, Scott knew it was not one of his men. That it was not even entirely human.

  He stumbled backwards as the Chead leapt, its feral growl filling the darkness. Movement came from overhead, and then ethereal green figures were falling from the trees, landing amongst his men with cat-like grace.

  And the night erupted in chaos.

  The roar of gunfire snapped Scott from the beginnings of panic. He lifted his rifle and took aim at the silhouette stalking towards him, but before he could squeeze the trigger it dove behind the glowing bodies of his men. Cursing, Scott spun, barking orders as he searched for a fresh target.

  “Men, form up on me! They’re in the trees!”

  His orders fell on deaf ears as pandemonium swallowed up the disciplined order of his team. They stumbled back from the onslaught of the superhuman creatures, their formation shattered. The Chead darted amongst them like wolves in a henhouse, rending and tearing as they went. To his left a soldier reeled backwards, his high-pitched scream dying away as a fountain of green sprouted from his chest.

  Scott fired as the Chead leapt from the soldier�
�s lifeless body. The bullets shrieked as they tore through a nearby tree trunk, but the creature was already gone, its powerful legs sending it soaring through the air. It landed with a thump on another of his men, driving him to the ground with a sharp crack.

  Flashes of gunfire lit Scott’s night vision, blinding him for a moment. Turning his face away, he shouted again over clamour, his fear rising as years of iron discipline melted away.

  “Men, on me, goddammit!” he hurled himself to the side as a body flew past where he had been standing. It crashed to the ground a few feet away and did not move.

  Rolling across the pine needles, he rolled back to his feet. All around him, green figures blundered between the trees, all semblance of order lost. In the chaos, the prisoners had vanished, either killed or fled, but he no longer cared. Survival was his only goal now.

  Glancing around, Scott realised he had drifted from the circle in which his men had been standing. He now found himself away amongst the trees, on the edges of the desperate battle between his men and the Chead.

  Heart pounding, the captain gripped his rifle tight and weighed his options. Though the chatter of gunfire still sounded, it was clear from where he stood the battle was lost. The Chead were too fast, too powerful to combat in close quarters, especially in the darkness. The moment it took his men to distinguish between friend and foe was all the creatures needed.

  No, this was a lost cause now. His men were as good as dead.

  Closing his eyes, Scott forced himself to turn away. Shame rose in his throat as he started to run, to flee the chaos. The screams of dying men chased after him, rising up through the howls of the Chead, piercing him to his soul. A voice inside screamed for him to turn back, to stand alongside his men, to die a soldier’s death.

  But his terror was greater still, and he raced through the darkness, desperate to escape the slaughter.

  Scott froze as a sudden silence fell over the forest. He glanced back in the direction of the battle, suddenly hesitant. Had they succeeded after all? Had they done the impossible, and fought off the Chead? But he heard no triumphant cries, no wild shouts, no sound at all, in fact.

  Swallowing, he looked around at the forest. It seemed deathly still now, without so much as the chirp of a cricket to break the silence. A shiver went through him, and then he was running again, a pure, unadulterated horror gripping him.

  He ran for what felt like hours, stumbling over roots and crashing into the pale shadows of tree trunks. He ran without thought of where he was going, only of what came behind, of the death that stalked him through the darkness.

  Finally, lungs burning, body aching, he found he could run no more. He staggered to a stop, shoulders heaving, one arm clutching at a tree trunk for support. Bending in two, he gasped in a lungful of air, struggling to catch his breath. In his desperate flight, he had lost all track of time, all sense of direction, but he must have traversed several miles by now.

  Straightening, he let out a long breath and looked around. Somehow in his race through the forest he had kept hold of his rifle and night vision goggles. He studied his backtrail for a moment, searching for a hint of movement, for the tell-tale glow of warm bodies. But the forest remained empty, and nodding to himself, he turned away.

  And froze as an ethereal green figure emerged from the trees ahead of him.

  Soft laughter whispered through the trees as the Chead stepped towards him. Through the glow of his goggles, Scott watched a vicious grin twist its features. Out of sheer instinct, the captain raised his rifle, but the Chead was faster still. With brutal ease, it leapt forward, tore the weapon from his grasp, and hurled it into the trees.

  Before Scott could move, iron fingers gripped him by the throat and lifted him into the air. The Chead stared up at him, its eyes bright in the glow of his goggles.

  “Human,” the creature spoke in a guttural growl.

  Scott gasped feebly in its hold, mouth wide, struggling for breath. He kicked out at the creature, slammed his fists into its arms, anything to break its hold. His lungs burned and darkness swirled at the edges of his vision, but nothing he did seemed to touch the creature.

  As his vision began to fade, he remembered, finally, the EPIRB on his vest. It would bring help, send the helicopter straight to his location. With the last of his strength, he slammed his fist into the button on his shoulder. The EPIRB gave a low beep, and then fell silent.

  A smile tugged at his lips as he looked down at the creature. His lungs screamed for air and a dull pounding drummed on the back of his skull, but help was on its way.

  “You will not own us,” the Chead’s teeth flashed.

  Scott opened his mouth to scream as the grip around his throat tightened. Stars flashed across his vision as the creature’s fist slammed into his head. Darkness loomed, threatening to swallow him.

  No! he screamed in the silence of his thoughts as the Chead raised its fist again.

  And then everything went black.

  CHAPTER 8

  “Go, go, go!” Chris shouted over the gunfire.

  He darted under the flailing arm of a soldier and leapt towards Richard and Jasmine. The young girl was already on her feet, but the other two were slower to react. They still knelt on the ground, mouths wide, staring at the horror unfolding around them.

  But there was no time to contemplate the fate of the soldiers. Springing forward, Chris grabbed Richard by the shirt collar and hauled him to his feet. Beside him, Liz did the same with Jasmine, and then they were moving again, pressing on through the dying men and howling Chead.

  An instant later they were clear and amongst the trees, leaving the chatter of gunshots and blood-curdling screams behind. Chris glanced around as they raced through the forest, catching glimpses of the others as they stumbled over unseen obstacles. They made no effort to mask their passage. If the Chead had wanted them dead, they would already be in the ground.

  Instead, the creatures had saved them.

  Chris swallowed as he ran, remembering the Chead’s sudden appearance beside them. The creature had frozen them with a look, its cold grey eyes stealing away their voices. Silently, it had lifted a finger to its lips and shook its head. Then it was gone.

  A few seconds later, the screaming had started.

  Now as Chris fled, questions raced through his mind, one after another. Who were these Chead? Where had they come from? Why were the creatures helping them?

  But there was no time to stop and wait for answers. Despite the Chead having the element of surprise, the soldiers were well-trained and well-armed. And if they prevailed, he doubted they would still be in the mood to take prisoners.

  Leaping over a fallen log, Chris ran on, silently cursing their slow pace. They needed to get airborne, to take to the skies and leave the soldiers and the Chead far behind. Glancing up, he searched the canopy for a hole, for any gap in the branches that might allow them to escape. But the trees stretched out overhead, unbroken.

  They ran for over an hour before they finally reached a clearing. By then the sounds of gunfire and the screams of the dying had fallen away, and the first rays of the morning sun were streaming through the canopy. It appeared out of nowhere – one moment they were racing through the trees, the forest floor still cast in shadows; the next there was sunlight all around, and they were stumbling to a stop, staring in amazement.

  Long grass stretched out for a hundred feet from where they stood, sloping gently down towards the west. The others quickly drew up around him, shoulders heaving as they caught their breath, their wings already stretching out towards the light. They still stood near the edge of the treeline, but looking out across the grass, Chris realised they were not alone in the clearing.

  A herd of goats stood amongst the long grass, their white coats glistening in the sun. Their heads were raised, their beady eyes turning to stare at the intruders. Sleek black horns twisted from their heads and blades of grass hung from their mouths as they chewed absently. A kid danced amongst the adults, i
gnorant to the threat the humans posed, though some of the adults were already turning away.

  Yet as the herd started to move towards the opposite side of the clearing, an angry roar filled the air. And suddenly the goats were no longer running away, but towards them. Eyes wild and voices raised in high-pitched screams, they bolted towards Chris and the others, fleeing the unseen noise. A swirling wind raced after them, bending the grass beneath it, tearing leaves and branches from the trees around the clearing.

  “Get down!” Chris heard someone shout as a dark shadow fell across the clearing.

  Without pausing to think, Chris obeyed, hurling himself down into the long grass. He caught a glimpse of the others following, then a goat leapt past, obscuring his vision. Looking up, he saw the dark shadow of a helicopter pass by, blades whirling, sun glinting from its metallic body.

  An instant later it was gone, disappearing in the direction of their camp. The angry buzz of its blades faded away, but now the reek of gasoline lingered over the clearing, staining the air.

  Chris waited a moment in the long grass, listening in case it turned back, before pulling himself to his feet. Standing in the open, he felt his heart pounding hard in his chest. He clenched his fists, struggling to control his fear, to fight back the panic. But he could not control the shaking of his body, the trembling of his legs as the horrors of the night crashed down on him.

  Movement came from his right, and he turned to find Liz standing beside him. Their eyes met, and then they were embracing, and Chris felt her shuddering with the same terror that swirled within him. They clung together for a long minute before breaking apart.

  Taking a breath, Chris finally managed to control his fear. He looked at the others. “Are you okay?”

  Richard and Jasmine stared back, their hair frazzled and faces marked by dirt where they had fallen in the darkness. Otherwise, they looked no worse for wear from their brief period in captivity. The young girl sat in the grass behind them, her grey wings hanging limply from her back as she stared at the ground. Richard and Jasmine stood with their arms folded. Richard kept his expression carefully blank as he nodded, but Chris could see the fear behind his eyes.