“Other worlds with supersonic jets?”
Mr. S raised his eyebrows. “Possibly.”
Cal narrowed his eyes. There are just too many possibilities. They all worried Cal. “For some reason, the thought of more worlds than just this one and our own really bothers me.”
“We don’t have to like the truth. It just is. We know the green rat is not from either our world or this one. Somewhere, there is a world compatible with the rat’s own special internal chemistry and a whole eco-system based on that chemistry. In the endless variety of an infinite number of worlds, there must be creatures we can’t even imagine and intelligent life beyond our comprehension.”
This did not put Cal’s mind at ease. “Well, if you ask me, I think the rat came from hell or at least someplace with lots of sulfur and brimstone and no sunlight.”
Mr. S smiled. “I like the way your mind thinks.”
Cal scratched his head. “So, how do you think that rat got into our world in the first place?”
“I suspect Dr. Samuel was the culprit. When he built the cross-dimensional mansions, he made trips between dimensions. Dr. Samuel was much more traveled than we are. He probably picked up the rat somewhere along the way.
“In his notes, he refers to the rat as the transition guardian or gate keeper. He knew that in mining alien minerals, he was opening the door to alien life forms as well. He probably thought the rat would contain the predator crossovers, like a pet cat contains a mouse infestation. Instead, the rat became the very predator Dr. Samuel feared. As you know, he was killed by his own guardian.”
Before Cal could pose another question, a cascade of rocks from higher up the hill tumbled down, bouncing past his feet. Staring up, Cal saw something glowing behind the large boulders strewn along the hillside. An eerie azure light was emitted by a hidden moving object.
Well, here is one more thing we need to worry about! Cal’s hand rested on his Glock. He jerked his head at Mr. S, silently indicating they should step back.
The object scuttled out from behind the hillside boulders where Cal could finally see it. It was long and flat and appeared to be armored. Four giant legs sprouted from each side with two large claws, like a lobster, thrust out on the front pair of legs. Out of its backside grew a large, segmented tail that curled up over its back, ending in an enormous stinger. Plainly visible, because of the ominous, peculiar light that it emitted, the nightmare creature scurried along the hillside on a path parallel to the one Cal and Mr. S were following. It moved in sudden jerky motions.
Cal had thought nothing in this alternate world could surprise him anymore. He was wrong. He knew what he was seeing. Not a spider, but certainly a member of the arachnid family. It was the size of Camm’s Volkswagen bug. It was a scorpion. A huge, glowing scorpion.
Mr. S squeezed Cal’s arm. “Stand completely still,” he whispered. “Maybe it won’t see us. Scorpions have very primitive eyes.”
It was amazing to watch this alien thing skittering among the larger boulders searching for prey. A breathtaking sight, this hideous monster glowed a gorgeous blue-green.
Cal whispered, “Can it hear us?”
Mr. S slowly shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Still whispering, Cal said, “I know scorpions glow under a black light, ‘cause we used them to find scorpions in the house. But why is this one glowing out here in the night?”
Mr. S shrugged. “The sun in this world must shine brighter in the ultraviolet range, so even when reflected off the moon there’s more ultraviolet light.”
They watched the amazing creature in silent awe. Abruptly, it turned and scurried down the hill in their direction. All at once, it did not appear quite so amazing. Reflexively, Cal pulled out the Glock he was carrying. Mr. S touched Cal’s arm. “Wait!” he whispered.
The glowing scorpion halted before reaching them, giving it the high ground. Erratically, it jumped forward and back as if agitated. The glow gave it a ghostly look, like a specter or a phantasm. Its claws were raised above its body, opening and closing menacingly. The tail curled ominously over its back with the huge stinger on the end, shining needle sharp.
It definitely saw them now. Slowly, it crept sideways crab-like, to Cal’s left, until it had circumnavigated a quarter circle and was on level ground with its prey.
“We need to stand close together,” Cal whispered, sliding next to Mr. S. “Let’s try to look like one large creature. A creature too big to kill and eat. Wave your hands over your head. It works on mountain lions back home.”
Slowly, they both waved their hands as high and wide as they could over their heads. Momentarily, the scorpion froze.
Then it lunged toward them, backed up, and then lunged again. Mr. S instinctively tried to jump backward, but Cal held onto him and didn’t budge. “Those are faux lunges. The scorpion is trying to decide what we are. It’s figuring us out as much as we’re figuring it out. Mostly, it wants to know if we are good to eat.”
Cal’s trigger finger quivered. He didn’t want to wait for the scorpion to make a real attack. “Maybe I should shoot it now, before it gets close enough to use its stinger.”
“You may only waste bullets and make it mad. It has a very hard shell, especially at that size, and a very small brain that is hard to find and hit with a bullet.”
The scorpion scuttled closer and tried another lunge, reaching out with its giant claws, grasping for its prey. This time both Cal and Mr. S jumped backward. Cal really wanted to shoot it.
“We’re in its world, so it shouldn’t be so hard to kill. Right?” Cal flipped off the safety.
“Let’s try our flashlights first,” Mr. S suggested. “If we blind it, we may scare it away.”
Slowly they removed their high power flashlights and pointed them at the scorpion. It danced back and forth in a jittery fashion as if it were hanging from a string.
Cal decided it was getting ready to attack. “I think we need to do something fast.”
“On the count of three, then.” Mr. S counted, “One . . . two . . . three!” Simultaneously they switched on their flashlights, pointing them at what they thought were the scorpion’s eyes.
It shrank back, as if startled by the light. Then, it scuttled back a few feet on all those legs.
“What if we separate,” Mr. S proposed, “and see if we can confuse it.”
“Good plan,” Cal whispered.
They both sidestepped a few steps until their light beams made a forty-five-degree angle. Cal kept his flashlight in his left hand. His Glock rested in his right hand, cocked with the safety off.
At first, the scorpion seemed confused. It turned to face Mr. S, and then to Cal and then back to Mr. S again. It backed up another two feet, but did not go away.
“Cal . . . ” Mr. S started. Before he could say more, the scorpion leapt at Mr. S, jumping so fast neither of them had time to react. One of its giant front claws knocked Mr. S down on his back, pinning him to the ground. Deliberately its stinger traveled over its head, down toward Mr. S, ready to fill him full of deadly venom.
Cal leaped to the scorpion’s side, making sure Mr. S was out of the line of fire. He shot his pistol into what he assumed was the mammoth creature’s head. The scorpion jumped, moving away from Mr. S and toward Cal. Cal fired his weapon unrelentingly, hesitating only to duck away from the enormous pinching claws.
The crack of the Glock shattered the quiet of the night. In no time, Cal had emptied his gun. He had continued to shine his flashlight on the scorpion with his left hand while firing the gun. But now, he had to hold the light under one arm so he could use both hands to change magazines.
Cal had familiarized himself with the Glock when it was given to him, repeatedly practicing switching out the magazines. But switching in the dark, under extreme stress, without dropping his flashlight was different. It was taking forever to remove the o
ld magazine and put in the new one.
While Cal was sure he had hit the giant creature in the head with every shot, it was not yet dead. Disoriented, it jerked side to side, claws flaying the air as if involved in some intricate dance movement. Though it emitted no sound, its luminosity was mesmerizing, casting a weirdly colored blue glow on everything in the vicinity.
Mr. S crab-walked backward on all fours, trying to distance himself from the scorpion. But age and creaky joints kept him from moving very fast. Suddenly, the scorpion lunged again at Mr. S, seeking to keep its prey from escaping, re-pinning him to the ground with an enormous claw. The other claw moved as if to clamp down on Mr. S’s neck. Cal thought it was going to decapitate him.
The thought of the scorpion slicing off Mr. S’s head brought Cal clarity and determination. Jamming the backup magazine into the gun, he jumped right up to the scorpion’s head. Aiming his weapon point-blank, Cal again fired into whatever passed for the scorpion’s head.
The scorpion twisted menacingly toward Cal, freeing Mr. S. Ducking under the swinging claw, Cal stood directly in front of the beast, between the claws. Feet spread apart, the gun in both hands only inches from the creature, Cal continued shooting. Scorpion shell and wet, glowing, viscera sprayed in all directions until he had emptied his gun again. Ears ringing, the night seemed wickedly silent after the noise the Glock had made.
This time the Glock did the trick. The scorpion made a futile attempt to back up, but ultimately planted itself on its belly, legs pumping uselessly up and down, claws moving pointlessly. Cal stood his ground, his empty weapon still pointed at the scorpion. The creature finally stilled. Claws and tail dropped harmlessly to the ground.
Cal stood for a few moments, not moving. Radiant blue spots covered Cal’s pants and shirt. Mr. S approached quietly from behind, placing his hand on Cal’s shoulder, causing Cal to jump. Cal released his breath and finally lowered his gun.
Cal and Mr. S stood between the giant luminous claws, grinning at each other.
Cal laughed. “This gives new meaning to the sport of big game hunting.”
Mr. S chuckled, and then sobered. “Thanks Cal. I owe you my life. I’m sorry we have been so hard on you, and I am very glad we decided to give you that gun!”
Cal grinned. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you don’t think I was wasting bullets.”
Without warning, Cal felt exhausted. Was Mr. S apologizing for sending Cal to prison? For bringing him to this world? He wiped sweat and scorpion guts from his face. Did it matter? Cal was getting a chance to earn freedom for both himself and Camm. The smell of gunpowder hung heavy in the air. Cal was glad he had been able to save Mr. S’s life. He wasn’t such a bad guy after all.
Mr. S sighed and looked around. “I’m pretty sure I’m done hiking for the night. This looks to be as good a campsite as any. Do you think you could find some wood and make a fire?”
Cal shrugged his shoulders. “Sure. Desert bonfires are one of my personal specialties. But it’s still plenty warm out here. What do you want a fire for?”
With a nod of his head, Mr. S glanced toward the dead scorpion. “Being attacked and placed in mortal danger always makes me hungry. I could really use a nice, hot meal.”
He laughed softly. “Besides, turnabout is fair play. It was going to eat us. Now, we’re going to roast and eat it.”
And they did. The tender white meat in the giant claws was delicious.
XIV
“Are you sure the opening was around here?” Martha shouted. She stood about thirty yards away from Camm. They were searching in the rocky foothills northwest of the Trona High School.
Camm was bent over investigating a cluster of very large boulders, many bigger than a car, some bigger than a bus. She straightened and surveyed the area around Martha.
“It’s in these rocks somewhere,” she shouted back. “We just have to keep looking.”
Glancing around, Camm understood Martha’s concern. The hillside was covered with jumbles of huge rocks. One pile of rocks was much like another.
In the darkness of a stormy night, several months ago, the NSA federal agents had shined their bright lights across this hillside, hunting for Camm. They must have felt as frustrated as Martha felt. They knew she was here somewhere, but they had not been able to find her. Beneath a pile of giant boulders, she had unexpectedly happened on a small hole that opened into a deep underground cave where she could hide, safe from the NSA and their searching lights.
It was that same small hole for which Camm and Martha now searched. That opening was the entrance to the cave that had been used as a hideout by Al Samuel, Jr. for most of his adult life.
On the same night that Alberto Samuel, Sr. and many of his household servants were killed by the giant green rat, it bit off one of Al Jr.’s arms and left him for dead in the pile of mutilated bodies. When Al Jr. regained consciousness, he thought he was the mansion’s sole survivor and managed to stay alive long enough to reach a secret cave, which had the resources necessary to heal his wounds and preserve his life. Living in isolation in that cave for years, he began talking to himself in riddles and referring to himself as J. R
Glancing around at the jumble of boulders, Camm could not imagine how J. R had survived losing an arm and the loneliness of living by himself for years in a deep cave.
The previous day, without consulting with Granny, Camm and Martha had used an NSA car to visit J. R and Sarah in their dilapidated little home along a dirt road in Homewood Canyon. Camm had once brought J. R to that very home to get answers, only to find that the tiny woman living there was J. R’s lost secret love. The reunited couple’s daughter-in-law, Miss Cathleen, made sure they were well provided for, but she now had to drive all the way over from Ridgecrest to care for them. These days, they saw her less often.
Happy and contented as lovebirds, the couple was delighted to see the girls. J. R still spoke in rhymes and riddles, but he and Sarah had no trouble understanding each other. As they talked with Camm and Martha, they sat close together on an old sofa, holding hands as if they would never let go. After all those years apart, each thinking the other was dead, it warmed Camm’s heart to know the couple could live out their final years together.
Camm was sure J. R had found a way to transition between the two alternate worlds without using the mansion or the snake. While she had hidden in J. R’s cave, he had told her the cave was a switching point. That had to mean switching between dimensions. The cave had to connect in some way with a tunnel or pathway into the other dimension.
Camm had asked J. R how he had traveled to the other mansion in the alternate world. Not surprisingly, J. R gave only cryptic responses. If only the old man didn’t talk in riddles! Camm had made him repeat his answer several times while she memorized it. He gave no other answer.
Searching now for the opening to J. R’s cave, Camm reviewed the words he had spoken:
Enter in at the strait and narrow gate. Proceed forward without deviation. Do not be as Lot’s wife; only continue as you commenced. Hear sounds of the Nile; hear the return of voice; lay hold on the cords of life and release them not. Continue as you commenced and when you emerge—fear not, you will emerge—VOILA! A new world!
So, the first step was: Enter in at the strait and narrow gate.
At first Camm thought that strait meant straight, as in not crooked. But Martha, who had studied both ancient and modern scriptures at BYU, told her that J. R was quoting the Bible where strait meant constricted.
They decided a constricted gate must mean the cave’s small entrance where Camm hid from the federal agents. She was not sure what the rest of the statement meant, but her first step had to be finding the entrance. She was confident that once she was in the cave she could decipher his cryptic message from there.
Finding the cave’s entrance turned out to be more difficult than Camm had thought. The jumbled boulders hid
the small opening well. Though Camm had spent days in the cave with J. R and had even sat among the rocks gazing down on Trona, she could not now find that opening.
Confident they would be able to walk straight to the entrance, Camm and Martha had come prepared with backpacks and supplies. Waiting until early evening, they took the road by the town graveyard and headed directly up into the hills, like Camm did on that dark night when the NSA was chasing her. But once they were up amongst the boulders, Camm was no longer sure which path she had taken. She didn’t recognize any obvious landmarks.
They had searched for hours until both were tired and discouraged. The evening sun now cast deep shadows amidst the gigantic boulders.
Camm made her way through the rocks to Martha. “I know it’s around here somewhere.”
She gazed down on the deserted town and tried to retrace her steps up to where she had hid herself in the rocks that night. She recalled the headlights and spotlights shining up the hill as the agents scoured the area, trying to locate her. It had been a very dark and windy night. Now, in the calm and searing brightness of a clear summer day, nothing seemed familiar. Camm sighed in exasperation, impatient with herself.
Martha winced with concern. “I know you’ve been avoiding him since he said there’s no way to bring Cal back, but maybe we should wait for Granny?”
They hadn’t seen Granny since the prior morning when they had sorted through the broken clock pieces. Camm had no idea where he had gone or what he was up to. She only knew that the grandfather clock was irreparably broken. She had to find another way to bring Cal home.
“If anyone can look after himself, Granny can. We need to find that cave. It may be the only way to get Cal and Lenny back to this world from the other side.”
“I know Granny can look out for himself,” Martha responded. “I was hoping he would come along to look out for us. We’re the ones who need help, not him.”
“Don’t need him,” Camm declared, waving the thought away like a pesky fly. She scurried up the hill, peering around each of the larger boulders as she went.
Fatal Green Page 12
