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Kaiju Inferno (Kaiju Winter Book 3)

Page 8

by Jake Bible


  “No, I’m not already fucking armed,” Dr. Probst snaps. Then she sighs. “What about the rest of the people with me? Marshal Morgan and her son? Lowell? There’s also Dr. Bennet somewhere in the facility.”

  “They are settled in the infirmary,” VanderVoort says. She licks her lips again. “Do not worry about them. Worry about yourself and monitoring the Substance. I am counting on you.”

  “Great,” Dr. Probst says as she stands up and steps back, her head tilted so she can see the cabinets under the workstation. “I love being counted on.”

  “That sounds like sarcasm,” VanderVoort sneers.

  “Does it?” Dr. Probst says, all fear of being the new person in a crazy place gone. Dr. Cheryl Probst, geologist, volcanologist, survivor of giant monsters, militia crazies, and ammonia ooze creatures is back. “Listen, I have work to do making sure these folks don’t wake up and try to gouge out my eyes. Plus the whole watching the Substance so it doesn’t do whatever the fuck it is you think it may do. Do you mind letting me get to work?”

  “I don’t mind at all,” VanderVoort says. “Just remember that we are watching and listening. You are not alone if your circumstances change.”

  “Yippee,” Dr. Probst says and gives the screen a thumbs up. “I feel safer already.”

  ***

  “It’s probably for our own safety,” Lu says as she tries to get the infirmary doors to open. No matter what she does, a harsh beeping and red light emit from the keypad by the doors. “A lockdown procedure.”

  “Yeah, that’s not how lockdowns happen and you know that,” Lowell says. “We’ve both spent enough time in our country’s finest rehabilitation facilities. Lockdown happens when shit first goes wrong then doesn’t let up until that shit is cleaned up all spic and span. If it was a lockdown, we would have been left in the cafeteria. We’re locked in here to specifically keep us in one place.”

  “So we’re quarantined again?” Kyle asks.

  “Imprisoned,” Lowell replies. “No two fucking ways about it this time. This is our new cell and passing some blood tests won’t get us out of here.”

  “What will?” Kyle asks.

  “Someone pushing a button,” Lu says, pointing at the small video cameras in the corners of the infirmary ceiling. “Once they decide we aren’t a threat or the threat out there has passed.”

  “I like your optimism, Marshal,” Lowell chuckles. “You actually assume that button will get pushed. Something has gone wrong, very wrong, in secret government facility land. You think our survival and well-being is a priority for anyone on the other side of all of this shit? I sure don’t.”

  “This blows,” Kyle says, finding a seat on one of the exam tables. “Why didn’t they lock us down in the cafeteria at least? There was food and shit in there.”

  “Probably food and shit in here somewhere,” Lowell says. “Place like this will be prepared for all contingencies. Start rummaging, kid. You’ll find snack bars and bottled water.”

  “Maybe a weapon,” Lu says as she moves towards the supply cabinets that ring the room from floor to ceiling. “I’ll look, Kyle. You stay seated.”

  “You just want to find it before I do,” Lowell says, leaning against the gurney that still holds Dr. Bennet. “Can’t have the crazed convict arming himself.”

  “You two are boring,” Kyle says. “You keep going back and forth between trusting each other and fearing each other. Get over yourselves.” He hops down and points at Lowell. “You are not a prisoner anymore.” Lowell raises his eyebrows and glances at the locked doors. “Shut up. You know what I mean.”

  Kyle points at his mother as she opens the first cabinet. “And you are not a US Marshal anymore. You may think you are, but you aren’t. Why? Because the Marshal Service doesn’t exist. Half this country doesn’t exist. What does? Giant monsters that kill everything in their paths and make weird ooze eggs so that anything they don’t kill turns into glowing green mini-monsters.”

  “So?” Lowell smirks. “Don’t get me wrong, kid, I like the speech, but get to the fucking point.”

  “The point is we are three people in the same room under the same circumstances,” Kyle says. “We are all equal. We want to live. We would like to keep living for a long time. Playing cops and robbers is not going to help us do that.”

  Lowell claps slowly and looks at Lu.

  “One thing you are forgetting,” Lu says to Kyle. “We are not all equals because I am your mother and you are my son. That never changes.”

  “She’s got ya there, kid,” Lowell says. “The earth could be on fire, but you still have to listen to mommy.”

  “Fuck you two,” Kyle snaps.

  “Hey!” Lu growls. “Not cool.”

  Before it can go any further, Dr. Bennet lets out a slight moan and shifts on the gurney, causing Lowell to jump back, fists up.

  “What are you going to do?” Kyle laughs. “Punch him back out?”

  “Shut up,” Lowell says.

  Dr. Bennet moans again and slowly blinks into the infirmary lights. He takes a few deep breaths then rolls over and pushes up into a sitting position, his legs dangling over the gurney. He glances around and his eyes slowly focus on everyone in the room, one by one.

  “Hello there,” he rasps. “I know I should know your names, but they seem to escape me at the moment.”

  “I’m Lucinda Morgan,” Lu says. “This is my son Kyle and that is Anson Lowell. We came down from the bunker above, remember? You were showing us the cafeteria when we were knocked out.”

  “You three were knocked out,” Lowell says. “I just got a headache.”

  “Is that so?” Dr. Bennet asks, his eyes focused on Lowell. “Merely a headache? You did not lose consciousness?”

  “Nope,” Lowell says. “All conscious and shit the whole time.”

  “Interesting,” Dr. Bennet says and lies back down. “I think I will rest some more before moving from here. Would you mind handing me a blanket from that cabinet? There is a chill in this room.”

  “Yes, of course,” Lu says as she opens the cabinet Dr. Bennet indicated and pulls out a blanket. “Just one?”

  “Just the one,” Dr. Bennet nods. He smiles when she walks over and hands it to him. “Thank you. That is quite comfortable. I should probably be working, but I am just so sleepy. A quick nap and then we’ll get everything sorted out.”

  He sighs deeply and then his breathing evens out as his eyes close. He’s asleep in seconds.

  “That was fucking creepy,” Lowell says, looking at Lu and Kyle. “I’m not the only one that found that fucking creepy, right? That shit had some major creep going on.”

  “I’m with Lowell,” Kyle says to his mother. “Major creep going on.”

  Lu only nods and frowns, her eyes watching Dr. Bennet carefully.

  ***

  The mud sucks at her boots and Terrie has to struggle to keep from sinking up to her knees, or falling through a hidden deadfall of trees, as she, Krissy, and Biscuit traverse the destruction that covers Haver’s Island. Her wounded ankle and midsection do not help with the effort.

  “Why are we walking back towards the water?” Krissy asks, adjusting her position so Terrie can get her arm around her shoulder better.

  “We need a point of reference,” Terrie says. “There is nothing for us up here. But there’s still the bunker below all this mud. We find the bunker and we may find the others.”

  “You think they’re still alive?” Krissy asks.

  “We are,” Terrie says. “If God saw fit to spare us then there is no reason to think God did not spare Roy, or Linda, or Belle. This was their sanctuary, not ours. They have more of a right to it than we do.”

  “You think God is that fair?” Krissy asks, all teenage girl snotery. “Puh-lease.”

  “Be careful, young lady,” Terrie replies. “Belief is a two way street. If you believe in Him then He will believe in you. Having God believe in you is a powerful thing.”

  “So is that,” Kr
issy says, nodding towards the smoldering ruins of Mt. Rainier and the massive monster that paces back and forth in front of it.

  The beast is so tall that smoke and clouds obscure its head and shoulders. All four of its shoulders. The four arms that end in three-fingered claws sway back and forth as the miles high beast paces across the landscape. Its bottom half is made up of only two legs, but they are squat and powerful, rippling muscles bundled on top of rippling muscles. Its skin glows an iridescent greenish yellow and steam rises from, joining the smoke and clouds above.

  Biscuit gives a low growl and then a quiet, yipping bark.

  “You got that right,” Krissy says. “What is it doing?”

  “Waiting,” Terrie says.

  “For what?” Krissy asks.

  “How would I possibly know that, girl?” Terrie snaps.

  “Right, sorry,” Krissy says.

  “No, I’m sorry,” Terrie sighs. “I should be thankful you can ask questions and help me walk. Many would be scared little mice hiding in the first hole they find right now. You have a strength to you, Krissy.”

  “Not much choice,” Krissy says. “All the holes are filled with mud.” She nods at the far off monster. “We still going to walk towards…that…thing…” Krissy stops talking.

  “What is it?” Terrie asks, looking down at Krissy. “What’s wrong?”

  Krissy doesn’t have to answer as Biscuit trots across the mud and starts digging at what sticks up between a small pile of rocks.

  “Oh,” Terrie says as she sees the hand with its fingers twisted and broken in all directions. “Get me over there. We’ll help Biscuit dig.”

  “You aren’t helping anything,” Krissy says as she lowers Terrie to the ground. “Stay here. I’ll see who it is.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Terrie says. “I can dig. You should rest after basically carrying me this whole way.”

  “You can dig?” Krissy laughs and picks up a stick. She tosses it at Terrie.

  Terrie reaches up to catch it and gasps in pain, her arm instinctively grips her midsection and Krissy shakes her head.

  “That’s what I thought,” Krissy says. “Rest. I don’t know how to stitch up wounds, so how about you not make things worse, OK?”

  Krissy’s eyes dart to the giant monster that paces miles away then return to the broken hand that occupies Biscuit’s attention. She slowly moves close, dodging the flying mud and dirt coming from Biscuit’s paws, kneels down, and starts pulling the larger rocks away from the hand. The hint of nail polish on the nails quickly tells her she’s not going to uncover Roy.

  It takes almost an hour of digging before she reaches the first sign of the corpse’s head. Krissy rocks back and plops down on her butt, exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

  “Who is it?” Terrie asks after Krissy has taken several deep breaths. “Linda, Belle or Roy?”

  “Belle,” Krissy says. “She’s missing a lot of her head, but it’s her.”

  Biscuit whines and starts to dig some more, but Krissy reaches out and grabs him by his scruff and pulls the hybrid back. “No, boy. No more. Doesn’t matter.”

  “It might,” Terrie says, looking around. “The hatch to the bunker might be underneath her. We may want to find out.”

  “Why?” Krissy asks. “We got tossed halfway across the island. She could have too. Who knows where the hatch is. And even if it is down there, so what? That asshole Tony isn’t going to let us in.”

  “He might,” Terrie says. “Once he realizes he may be all alone forever if he doesn’t.”

  “Yeah, right,” Krissy replies. “I don’t think he cares what happens to other people.”

  “I think he cares more than he shows,” Terrie says. “Or knows how to show. But it doesn’t matter. There is still one reason he may open that hatch.”

  “Really? What’s that?” Krissy asks.

  “You,” Terrie says. “I saw how he looked at you. He’s not much older than you and he’s a boy. You’re a girl. The only one on the island.”

  “Gross!” Krissy snaps. “That’s just gross! You think I’m going to let that freak anywhere near me? Not on your life, lady!”

  “I won’t let him near you either,” Terrie says. “But if a few kind words get him to open the hatch then you better be prepared to say a few kind words.”

  A roar rips across the land and water. Biscuit starts barking until Krissy pats him on the shoulder. She and Terrie look over at the giant monster, the pacer, the mountain killer.

  “Better than being stuck out here, right?” Terrie pushes. “The bunker has food, water, clean clothes. It has bandages and antiseptic, both things we need right now.”

  Krissy reaches up and almost touches her face, letting her fingers hover over her flayed cheeks, then drops her hand in her lap.

  “That guy doesn’t want anything to do with me,” Krissy says. “No guy would. Look at me.”

  “You overestimate the male brain,” Terrie chuckles. “And he never saw under the bandages. His imagination has filled in what you look like. His other parts could care less.”

  “You are being so gross,” Krissy says. “I want to throw up.”

  “Then throw up,” Terrie says. “But do it away from where you’re going to dig. We have to be practical, girl. We have to think of making it through not just tonight, but tomorrow and the next day and the next day. The bunker is how we do that.”

  “Whatever,” Krissy says. She hesitates for a long while then sighs and shifts her weight back up onto her knees. “If there is hot water then I get the first shower, okay?”

  “Fair enough,” Terrie chuckles.

  “Come on, Biscuit,” Krissy says as she starts digging. The hybrid obeys readily and gets to work, his front paws moving furiously. “Good boy.”

  ***

  “Two fucking legs,” VanderVoort says as she surveys the screen that shows the monster in all its bipedal glory, standing over the Yellowstone caldera. “Who won the pool?”

  She chuckles and points to herself.

  “That’s right. This pregnant bitch did. Two legs, people. I totally called it.”

  No one responds and she looks around to find all eyes glued to the huge monitor that shows the massive creature.

  “You people have no sense of fun,” she sighs. “You have to learn to find the fun in all situations or you’ll go mad. And madness is for the poor souls in the facilities, not for us down here living the high life.”

  “Ma’am, the coms are open,” a tech says. “The facilities can hear you.”

  “Why the hell are the coms open?” VanderVoort snaps. “Did I say for them to be open?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the tech replies. “A while ago, but you didn’t give the order to go to private.”

  “Well, a little dose of reality for everyone then,” VanderVoort says, waving at the screens showing the less than pleased faces of the facilities’ scientists. “No offense meant. But we all know you may go cuckoo for cocoa puffs at any time. Right?”

  She receives some glares, some sighs, and some nods of agreement. VanderVoort makes mental note of the nods of agreement. There may be more stability in the facilities than she had hoped.

  “Alright, let’s sum up,” VanderVoort says, turning to address the president, his cabinet and aides, and the Joint Chiefs. “We have various species of monsters roaming North America with one obvious apex species having just shown itself.”

  “Um, Ms. VanderVoort?” Dr. Hall asks, interrupting without taking his eyes off his screen. “I believe summing up would be premature.”

  “And why is that, Dr. Hall?” VanderVoort asks.

  “Because we now have brand new players on the field,” Dr. Hall says.

  “Did you just use a sports reference, Doctor?” VanderVoort asks. “Go on with your nerd self.”

  “He means the battlefield,” Alvarez says, pushing away from the workstation and standing.

  “Yes, well, OK,” Dr. Hall replies as he stands, li
fting his laptop from his station. He taps at the keys and overrides the screens in the situation room, showing everyone only views of the various volcanoes. “Let’s start with Japan, okay?”

  “Let’s,” VanderVoort says, amused, but also enrapt by the image that takes over the main screen. “What have we here?”

  “Classic kaiju,” Dr. Hall says. “The Japanese lore pretty much nails it on the head. Massive body, with powerful legs on either side. Upright with strong, but short arms. Good-sized head. Godzilla, but with the obvious differences in skin type, number of eyes four instead of two- and a mouth that is in need of serious dental work. Some of those teeth look like they are pushing up through its lips.”

  “So it’s Godzilla’s methed out cousin,” VanderVoort says. “Any others?”

  “Various types, smaller, more agile, but all scrambling away from the apex,” Dr. Hall says.

  “Some of the smaller ones look like advance troops,” Alvarez says. “Some look like food. Just like when Yellowstone erupted.”

  “OK,” VanderVoort nods as if Alvarez had just explained the rules to a new card game. “What else?”

  “That’s Japan,” Dr. Hall says. “Here’s Chile. Vastly different.”

  The screen changes and everyone gasps. Even VanderVoort takes a step back and shakes her head.

  “What the holy fuck is that thing?” she asks. “Looks like the Earth just shit out an angry baby.”

  “Yes, well, it sort of did,” Dr. Hall explains. “The Chilean volcano was pretty much hot mud. Not much gas release or ash. But lots of mud. As you can see, the apex creature here is not reptilian in any way. Not like the ones we’ve seen in Japan or some we’ve seen here in North America.”

  “I’ve been to Chile,” Alvarez says. “My mother’s side is Chilean. I know what that is.”

  He reaches across Dr. Hall, but gets his hand slapped.

  “I can do it,” Dr. Hall says. “Jeez.”

  Dr. Hall brings up the image of a squat, stone idol. Underneath is the caption “Easter Island.”

  “Well, I’ll be,” VanderVoort says. “I didn’t see it at first, but now that you mention it, the thing does have a resemblance. Look at the head on it.”

 

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