Rick Carter's First Big Adventure (Pete's Barbecue Book 1)

by Samuel Belcher

  “Holy mother of..!” He shouted. “Incoming!” He added as he dove for cover onto the street.

  They all scattered to the ground as large chunks of debris kicked up by the hit clattered on the sidewalk around them along with spider parts and goo. The sound of painful squeals pierced the night amid the deafening clambering of the different creatures. The shock of it startled everyone, including the spiders and termites. Pete looked over at Dennis, who lay nearby on his back gripping the grenade launcher with both hands to his chest. “Well, I guess der’s your armor, eh brudda!” Pete yelled at him, smiling.

  “Rabbits!” Mel cursed under his breath. The sudden explosion that caught everyone so off guard was working against him now. The wall of spiders, the solid mass of legs and bodies, was pealing apart. Smaller groups were fracturing from the whole body looking for avenues of safety and escape from this new unseen threat. The termites were scattered out from their neat little columns they had been in and were lumbering around confused. When the automatic weapons fire resumed, the smaller branches of spiders broke off altogether and retreated away from the menace but toward Mel’s position. He was about to be overrun.

  The burned out car he was hiding behind suddenly didn’t appear to be such a safe spot to stay behind. His plan of a slow silent and stealthy dash to the Honey Pot’s escape hatch was no longer possible. He looked rapidly around to find his next move, considering the merits of bolting for the front of the building, making a mad dash toward the sound of the gunfire in hopes of joining up with that group, against a rapid retreat to his fist position in the demolished building across the street. But, the distance to both was too great now and the open areas in between were quickly filling with mad and terrified bugs. Retreating didn’t look any better as he was flanked faster than he had time to react to it. The secret access point behind the Emporium was closer and still his best bet to make it to safety. He still had the Prime Shield for protection, but he wasn’t sure how long it would hold up to repeated attacks from these things. It might, or might not, keep him safe and sound. Putting that notion to the test seemed an unsafe and pointless bet to make so he opted instead for the ‘flee for your life method’ of survival. He was familiar with this mode of escape, having used it countless times in his past. But, as he stood and started to run for where the manhole cover was he noticed he was too late. A small group of termites, dazed and confused with no scent trail to follow had accidently stumbled on his position and were encircling him, not sure of what they had found, testing to see what it might do. This is where Mel realized he was in trouble. He had no weapon and now nowhere to run and no one to extract him. The termites began to close in on him, their giant pincer jaws snapping in anticipation of this new target. He looked around frantically hoping for a last minute exit, somewhere to flee, but all avenues were blocked. He fell back against the car until he could feel its burned steel against his back. Is this the way, I’m gonna die? Death by termite? That’s about the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. He closed his eyes and braced for the attack. The sound of a portal opening and the squealing of car tires thankfully interrupted his imminent death.

  The blue light blinded Rick the same way it always did. He had put on a pair of sunglasses for that very purpose but they didn’t help that much. When it faded, he didn’t wait for his vision to return he simply gunned the engine of the Crown Victoria and sped forward, hoping he didn’t kill someone unlucky enough to be in the way at the time. The first thing he could tell was that he hadn’t gone blind. It was dark but that was only because it was night. He didn’t bother to hit the lights of the car, all the fires burning around him lit things up just fine. He could make out the blurry image of something big and white just in front of him. Whatever it was he was sure it wasn’t human. It was too big and moved the wrong way. Just for affect he honked the horn and hit the accelerator. He managed to slam into the termites at 45 miles per hour, the huge beast of a car hitting them like a giant red baseball bat. Termites exploded all around him and acid rained down on the car. He hit the brakes just as his vision was starting to return. There in front of him, hunched up next to a burned out car, was Mel, his hands up in anticipation of an attack and looking very surprised. Rick grabbed his AR and opened the driver’s side door. When he stepped out he could see the paint on his car was melting and steaming from the acid dripping down it. Big spots of bare metal were appeared all over the front. He stood behind the open door of the Crown Victoria with his AR held up on his right hip, his sun glasses lowered just slightly and looked at Mel in what he was sure was a very smug and irritating way. He simply said to him, “Anybody need a cab?” He swung quickly to his right and fired a burst into a termite that was moving. Mel stood trying to regain his lost composure and shook his head. He detested needing rescue. But, he detested sudden disembowelment even more.

  Another well-placed shot from the Abrams sent the surviving spiders scattering back into the shadows of the side streets, amid the houses and buildings where the shadows could hide them and where they could nurse their wounds. The exploding shell caused another big crater in the mound of debris and scattered more of the Honey Pot in all directions. The number of dead spiders and termites was beyond count, but the number of the living was still enough to return to the offensive.

  The tank slowly rolled its way up to the line of men who were staring at it blankly in the thankful surprise. It rocked to a gentle stop just feet from where Pete and Dennis stood unmoving. They looked up and met Tormodis’s gaze from his perch in the turret hatch but nothing was said between them. The meeting, unique as it was, was just a surprise in a long list of surprises they had been through today. It was enough to acknowledge the tank’s arrival with a slight grin and nod of the head. Roger, however, had different ideas. His head popped out of the forward hatch again like some demented child’s toy with an insanely molded grin wide on his face.

  “Pete! Dennis!” He shouted. “I thought you were dead, maybe.”

  Pete shouldered his weapon and smiled. “You one crazy rat, Rog.” He said. “But, we glad to see you, dat for shore.”

  “Hey!” Tormodis retorted. “What are we? Decorations?” He began to extract himself for the hatch and climb down off of the tank. Margaret turned the big engine off and followed behind him.

  “That depends, bra.” Pete met his stare with the eyes of hardened experience. “You get tings done in de streams?”

  “Hey, that’s Mel’s thing. I’m just the transport.” Tormodis threw his hands up in disgust. Margaret was by his side looking around at the results of hell.

  “Speaking of de devil, where he at? He startin’ to piss me off.” Pete sounded aggravated at his protégé’s absence.

  “Beats me.” Tormodis quickly replied. “We left him with Boone tracking things down.”

  “He’ll be here soon,” Margaret said. “He told us to meet you here.”

  Pete smiled at the sound of Margaret’s melodic and hypnotizing voice. “We glad to see you again, you sweet ting.” He quickly grabbed her hand and kissed it.

  Margaret was surprised by the gesture. “Um, thank you, I guess.” She struggled to respond.

  Tomodis’s face twisted in irritation. “Hey! Watch the paws old man. That’s the Mrs you’re making a play on.” He growled back.

  Pete chuckled, and Dennis smiled a thin devious smile. “Okay, boss. We’ve got a lull here. What do you want to do?” Dennis asked.

  Pete looked around at his meager army, gathering their weapons and checking rounds. “I tink we need to get below again. Dese boys done good but chance only go so far. Wid out de reactor de Prime shields ae down. We in de open here.”

  Dennis’s look changed to worry. “You want to button up now? We’re on the offensive here. Shouldn’t we press it? If we pull back, they’ll be back on us in no time and we’ll be right back where we were.” He explained.

  Pete nodded in agreement. “Yeah, but the objective was to delay. Mel he on de way. We just need to hold out
a little longer. ‘Sides we can’t take dis group into de streets. De Bugs have de advantage.”

  Dennis shrugged. “You’re the boss.” He said, and he broke away to round up the rest of the small group and prepare to get back down below.

  “What about the tank?” Tormodis asked.

  Pete cocked his head slightly. “Leave it here. We might be needin’ it again. Now, let’s get down below.”

  “To where?” Margaret asked. “I thought your place was gone.” She pointed at the remains of the once proud Micronesia Emporium.

  Pete grinned flirtingly with her again. “Oh, dat? Dere’s a lot more downstairs. Come see.” He put his arm out, offering to escort her down personally.

  Tormodis grabbed her arm instead and glared at the old man. “Just show us the way you dirty old hack.”

  No one noticed the lone figure walking away from the rest, the silhouette of a crazy person meandering into the shadows away on his unfathomable mission.

  Mel hated to be upstaged. It irritated him in ways he couldn’t verbalize. He also hated to be rescued. This time, it was a combination of both, and to add to the insult it was all done by a newbie in a Crown Vic. He stood by the burned out car he had been hiding beside and tried to appear like nothing had happened while almost shaking from the sheer frustration of it. He felt like a volcano about to explode who was too chill, relaxed and composed to let the other volcanoes know how ticked off he was. “So,” he said with a slight air of disgust. “What took you so long?”

  Rick looked at him sharply and took off his shades. “Seriously?”

  “How did you manage to port a whole car in here anyway?” Mel looked around casually and tried to fake a yawn, but it just looked ridiculous.

  “Skill, Mel. All skill. I’m a taxi driver, remember?” Rick shook his head. He turned quickly again and fired a few short burst at another approaching termite. It scuttled back in terror at his shots.

  “Well, whatever. I had things under control.” Mel responded, wafting away the nasty smell of the acid and paint.

  Rick lowered the weapon. “You know that didn’t work back when we were kids, and it doesn’t work now.” There was still some heavy firing going on to their right, in front of the building. He stepped out from behind the door of his taxi and approached his old friend. Mel instantly noticed that Rick had something strapped to his left wrist that looked suspiciously familiar.

  “Hey, what have you got there?” He quickly asked, eager to get beyond the glaring spotlight that was on his recent unfortunate rescue.

  Rick had forgotten about the device. “Uh, nuthin.” He replied and quickly lowered his arm out of sight.

  “Whatever,” Mel muttered. But the word was cut off by the sound of another loud boom followed by another loud explosion. Both Rick and Mel nearly dove for cover. But, the event was over before they could react. They watched in fascination as the bugs scattered and pulled back, passing them by in a frantic attempt to get beyond the effect of the explosions. In mere seconds they were alone again on the darkened smoke-filled street, a few lone termites trying to figure out where everyone else went. Rick looked at Mel apprehensively. “You think it’s over?” He asked.

  Mel looked around again. “Probably not.” He said. “But, right now, what they do or don’t do is not nearly as important as finding Roger.”

  Rick looked confused. “Wasn’t he with you?”

  Mel shook his head slightly. “Yeah, for a little while. Then I had that friend of yours Tormodis and his wife bring him back here for safe keeping.”

  “Why’s he my friend? I never met the guy before.” Rick sounded alarmed. “I never met the guy until today. And why would you send Roger back here to be safe? Look around. Does this look safe to you?”

  Mel shrugged his shoulders. “Well, it’s a long story. I still have to find him, though. It’s very important.”

  “Does it have anything to do with that business back in 1968?” Rick asked.

  Mel paused. “Yeah, it does. It also has everything to do with what’s going on now. To stop this crap I have to get Roger.” Mel said emphatically.

  “I’m right here,” came a familiar voice just a few feet away to their right. They both turned simultaneously. Roger was standing there amid the fallen chunks of concrete with a look of amusement on his face.

  “Roger?” Mel asked.

  “Where’d you come from?” Rick followed up.

  Roger smiled a deep, satisfying grin. “A tank.” He said very proudly as if he expected a round of hearty congratulations.

  Mel and Rick looked at each other doubtful and confused. “Whatever.” Mel finally said. “Roger, I have to talk to you.”

  Roger slowly walked the few remaining steps that separated them, his countenance fell, and he looked very sad for a change. “Is it because of the bugs?”

  “Yes,” Mel replied with deep sympathy. “How did you know?”

  “Because I’ve seen it, Mel.” Roger slowly replied.

  Mel took a deep breath. “Then you know what it is we have to do?”

  Roger shook his head. “Yeah. I know.” He looked down at his feet as if the thought was a little more than he wanted to deal with. “Does this mean I get to see my family again?”

  Mel didn’t bother to lie this time. “Maybe, Rog. Maybe. We’ll see.”

  Rick watched this conversation with a sense of dread and anticipation. “What are you guys talking about?”

  Mel ignored the question and started typing things into his REAL-Pro 9000. “We’ve got to go, Rick. Both of us.”

  Rick glanced back and forth between them. “Go? Go where? What are you talking about?”

  Mel looked up from his device. “Come with me and you’ll find out.” Then he activated the REAL-Pro and all three of them ported out in another blinding blue light. The only witnesses were the hundreds of bugs in the deep shadows regrouping for another assault on the building.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  One Plus One Equals Zero

  “Let’s get down de hatch den.” Pete said as he lingered behind to watch each member take their turn in the dark descent of the escape trunk. It took some time for everyone to get their gear and pull themselves together enough to orchestrate a successful fallback. But, Pete was happy with the results they had achieved so far. They succeeded in their objective and no one was hurt or killed, and now they were regrouping. That was about as close as you could get to a perfect mission. All except for one thing, the bugs were still out there. He could hear them in the distance, in the deep shadows. He knew they were waiting. As the last man descended he paused and looked around. The shadows seemed alive. There was movement everywhere. Mel, he thought, I hope you got dis, boy. He quickly squeezed his large body into the manhole and started down, grabbing the cover as he went. He pulled it into place with a loud clang and descended the ladder.

  The bright blue light faded slowly away and, as usual, the three port occupants were left temporarily blinded. This time, it was made more intense by the fact that they reappeared in an empty dark hallway. Rick was confused, disoriented and not altogether happy. He wasn’t expecting to be porting again so soon. That was Mel’s fault.

  “Where are we?” Rick whispered harshly, making his discomfort apparent.

  Mel spoke up, “There’s no point in whispering. There’s no one else here.”

  Rick straightened himself slightly. “Okay.” He nearly shouted. “Where are we?”

  Roger brushed against them as he stepped further out into the hallway. “I’m home, again.”

  “Home? You mean…?” Rick glanced quickly in both directions.

  Mel was fidgeting with his REAL-Pro. “Yes. Home. You’ve been here before. Don’t you recognize it?”

  Rick sighed. “Why are we back here?”

  Mel looked up. “Business.” He said with an ominous finality to it. He reached over and grabbed Rick’s wrist in the dark, the one with the XLT strapped to it and pressed something on the side. A very powerful lit
tle light came to life and instantly threw back the shadows. It was indeed a hallway Rick recognized. They were back in the sanitarium.

  “Hey!” Rick wrested his wrist away from Mel’s clutch. “You said you couldn’t come in here! What about all that crap about you two canceling each other out?”

  Mel narrowed his eyes and attempted a deep breath. “Yes, I did say that. But, that’s only when the shields are up. They’re calibrated for Roger. They’re meant to isolate his bio-energy signal. And they’re not up right now.”

  “You didn’t know that. How do you know that?” Rick replied.

  Mel lifted Rick’s arm up again and pressed the light back on. “We’re both still here aren’t we? The shield is turned off right now. We won’t cancel each other out now, ok? Hold your arm back up so I can see.”

  “Hey, my arm is not a flashlight! So, what is it we’re here to do?” Rick asked yanking his hand away again.

  Mel didn’t respond immediately. He had located a bank of light switches on the wall a few feet down from where they were standing. He made his way over to them in the dark and flipped a few on. Instead of bright fluorescent lights coming on, the red emergency lights came on. All the details in the hallway, the few that were there, sprang to life under the eerie glow of the red emergency lights. “At least, the emergency lights still work.”