by Glaze, JH
His shoulder hurt like hell and his body seemed to be paralyzed. He tried to move his arms and legs but found it to be impossible. His vision was somewhat blurred but he could tell that he was situated somehow in a large clearing in the middle of a stand of tall trees. Raj was there leaning up against one of the trees, maybe some twenty yards away. John squinted to get a better look.
As his vision began to clear, John could see that Raj wasn’t standing next to the tree at all, but was hanging from it, his feet about eighteen inches off the ground. He opened his mouth to yell over to Raj, but found he could only cough. He cleared his throat as best he could then rasped, “Raj! Hey, Raj! Are you alive, buddy?” There was no sign of life.
He turned his head to the left, and blinked several times. Unless his eyes were deceiving him, there was some kind of creature. He had never seen anything like it before and it was standing next to Emily. She also appeared to be hanging from a tree the same as Raj. From this vantage point, John could not get a good look at the monster. He tried to figure out how tall this thing might be. Based on his own height and the distance he guessed he was hanging from the ground, John judged the creature must stand about eight feet tall. It was one of the biggest, ugliest things he had ever seen.
It stood erect on two legs, like a man, but this was no man. John thought the thing looked more like some kind of gigantic bug or maybe a lizard, a hybrid lizard-bug. It was a grayish hue in color that alternated to brown and dark green and back to gray as it moved through the clearing to another tree. It must be some kind of continual camouflaging process he supposed.
Its back had what seemed to be a series of layered, interlocking, segmented, maybe armored plates, each overlapping the one below it. These plates formed a ridge in the center of its body that ran from the top of its head to the end of its tail, which extended to the ground and seemed to stabilize its body weight while it worked.
The creature’s hind legs reminded John of the legs of a very large lizard but were segmented more like a grasshopper’s. He guessed it to be a four-legged creature that stood upright when necessary to use its front legs as arms. He could see as it moved around an unconscious Emily, that its ‘hands’ had three large fingers and what resembled a thumb, all tipped with sharp but relatively short claws.
As the monster turned, John noticed some type of appendage, or third arm. It was shorter than the others and positioned near the center of its chest. It bore a foot-long blade-like boney structure that it seemed to be using as a tool. Just now, the monster was using it to apply something to the tree behind Emily’s back.
Now John realized exactly what was holding him immobile against the tree. With one clawed hand, the creature held Emily firmly against her tree, while the other hand reached behind its back just above its tail where a thick black liquid oozed slowly from some kind of opening. As it deposited the goo on the tree next to Emily, it used the blade-like appendage to spread it evenly between the tree and her limp body. Was the thing using it’s own shit as glue, to bind them?
The creature seemed able to produce the stuff at will because each time it reached back, more of the goo had been produced and was ready to be applied. With each handful of ooze, the creature appeared to be gluing Emily to the tree.
It dawned on John that the forest was eerily quiet except for the crunching sounds the creature made as he moved around the tree. As he strained to see what was causing the crunch, he saw there was a scattered pile of bones surrounding the base of the tree. Most of the bones looked as if they were from smaller animals, but about a yard away there was a human skull which had been kicked to the side.
He felt a shiver of horror throughout his body as his dazed mind began to comprehend that the creature was literally ‘putting up’ food. His team was obviously not the first group of humans to experience this nightmare.
John’s gaze shifted back to his right and another wave of dread passed through his body. He could barely make out Mark lying on the ground in the shadows. His legs appeared to be bent in an unnatural pose as though they had somehow been mangled in the plane crash, or perhaps crushed by the creature.
With all that was happening around him, it was the object hanging above Mark that inspired absolute terror in his soul. It looked like a bunch of translucent grapes about the size of large watermelons. Each greenish globe had dark spots that appeared to jerk and squirm every few seconds. As he scanned the entire object from bottom to top, he realized that it was suspended from some kind of web-like structure.
It hit him, finally, like an aluminum baseball bat to the head. This was a giant cluster of alien spawn and, from the way the things were squirming and jerking, it looked as if they were about to hatch!
Thirty-Three
Commercial airline pilots are in constant communication with the ground as they travel around the globe. When a plane goes missing, there is immediate action taken. Hundreds of lives are on the line and the airlines can’t afford to delay a search for a missing plane when possible survivors are awaiting rescue.
The smaller private and chartered planes, on the other hand, can go unnoticed for longer periods, especially when a half-assed cocky pilot does not file an adequate flight plan. Then, if changes are made in-flight without proper notification, a plane could go missing without anyone having a clue as to its whereabouts.
This is exactly the scenario that had played out when Mark Woo had left on this trip. In fact, for as long as he had been flying, he had never been really good at the whole flight plan thing. He had become accustomed to flying by the seat of his pants when he made his trips.
When he had taken flying lessons, he had bribed his flight instructor to keep quiet about his planning skills. A couple of thousand well placed dollars, a few phone calls, and the same instructor covered it over by doing all of the flight planning work for him. Mark considered it to be no worse than paying someone to write a term paper.
So now that his flight had gone missing, no one knew exactly where to look. He had kind of gotten it somewhat close, but even if they had dozens of aircraft covering hundreds of square miles outside of the flight path he had filed, the plane and its passengers might never be found.
If you’re searching for a needle in a haystack, you’d at least want to know where the haystack was, before you began the search.
After several hours and the plane had not yet arrived, the required reports had been filed and calls had been made. One of those calls went out to the University and was fielded by Macy’s assistant. She was asked if she had been contacted, if any word had been received about the status of the flight. She had not. She was instructed to retrieve any documents which may have been filed containing emergency phone numbers of the passengers. If any documents were located, she was to contact each of the individuals listed on the documents and prepare them for the worst.
The calls were all made before the report hit local news stations. A small passenger flight had gone missing somewhere between San Francisco and Seattle.
Thirty-Four
John heard a cough to his right and, a moment later, a shaky voice called out, “I can’t move! Somebody help me!” He recognized that voice. It was Karla and she sounded scared. “Eddie, where are you? Where are we?”
The panic was rising in her voice, and he felt sure she’d be screaming any moment especially when she realized what was happening around her. He tried to calm her. “Karla, be quiet! You’ll attract too much attention.”
“John! Is that you? Where are we?” Karla’s voice continued to rise. “What the fuck is going on?”
He spoke a little louder this time, turning his head as far as he could toward Karla. “Be quiet! Can’t you see? There’s some kind of monster here and it doesn’t look too friendly! Keep it down. We don’t want to...” John sensed something moving right next to him as he continued, “attract atten…” He turned and found himself face to face with the alien.
The creature’s head was quite wide and, as it opened its huge mouth,
John could see its long pointy teeth, rows and rows of them. It breathed out a horrible stench as if it were taunting him, and then closed its mouth again. John stared into the creature’s softball-sized black eyes and saw his own reflection there. He struggled to curb the gag reflex.
He made an attempt to remain calm and employ a normal conversational tone as he spoke to the alien captor. “What are you gonna do, you ugly fucker? Eat me?” The creature tilted its head like a dog hearing a strange sound.
“Go ahead, you piece of shit. I hope you choke on my ass!” John raised his voice defiantly. He figured he had nothing to lose since he might be about to die anyway. The creature seemed almost to smile as it turned away and walked out of sight.
One by one, the others were returning to consciousness. John could hear their feeble voices as they tried to speak. “What the hell is this? Where are we?” he heard Macy cry out. Then, a virtual chorus of crying and shouting surrounded him.
“Where are we? Oh my god!”
“What the fuck? Let me go!”
“Holy shit! Somebody help me!!”
“John? John?” It was Emily calling out to him.
“Emily! Are you okay?”
“Sure! Ya think I’m just waiting here for the barmaid to bring me another glass of wine?” she said sarcastically. “What the fuck! No, I’m not okay! I can’t move and that – that thing over there keeps looking at me like I’m some kind of tasty snack!” Emily stopped and lowered her voice. “Come on, John, baby, do your rescue thing! Get us outta here!”
There she was calling him baby again. A guy could get used to that. “Give me minute to think, Em. There has to be some way to break loose.” He tried leaning forward to pull himself free, but he couldn’t move any part of his body except his head and neck.
He could swear he heard Mark moaning. Sure enough, the poor bastard was still alive! Waking up with both legs badly broken, the pilot was lying under the biggest fucking egg sac on the face of the earth. The sound of his groans and the slight movement of his upper body prompted the unwanted attention of the creature.
Mark screamed as he saw it coming toward him and used his arms to try to pull himself away. The creature shook its head and let out a low growl as if to say, “Oh, no you don’t,” and reached down to grab Mark by his jacket, dragging him screaming back into position below the giant mass of eggs.
The monster demonstrated his familiarity with human anatomy as it held Mark down with one of its clawed hands and surgically inserted its bladelike appendage into his spine just below his shoulders, likely to sever his spinal cord. Surprisingly little blood oozed into a small pool next to his broken body as the creature stepped away.
Mark, wild-eyed, had lifted his head as the blade had penetrated and gasped as the alien withdrew it before passing out from what must have been unbearable pain, or was he was dead now? No, John thought he could make out the shallow movements of his breathing from his otherwise motionless body.
How could the creature know enough to paralyze someone in such a precise manner while allowing them to stay alive? Why would it do such a thing? John looked around. The answer was obvious. Humans and other animals were being stored as food for future meals. It was probably better for the alien hatchlings if the victims were still alive, doubtless more nutritious. Obviously humans were part of the alien food pyramid and the team was destined to be the hatchlings first buffet dinner of fresh meat.
John was more determined than ever to free himself and the others. Like watching a horror film over and over in his head, he kept seeing the replay of the monster cutting into Mark’s spine. He struggled against the hardened substance that held him glued in place. He pulled, pushed, squirmed and twisted, but still could not budge.
In the past, even when he had been beaten, stabbed, nearly blown up, burned and left for dead, he had never before felt so defeated, as though there were no chance he’d survive. But this time, it was complicated. This time there were eight other people involved, including a beautiful woman with whom he was becoming more enamored by the hour. No! This was not a good way to die!
“Fuck this!” he muttered as he tried again to break free from the giant wooden skewer that was holding him in place. He strained again, finally letting the air escape his lungs as he gave up one more time. In that split second of desperation, he remembered his buck knife strapped to his belt. He hoped it was still there and he could reach it, then maybe he could cut himself free.
After many attempts at breaking loose, he had managed to free his right hand. He could move it now but only at the wrist, which left him straining to reach what he considered his only hope, the handle of the knife.
The wailing of the team had increased after witnessing Mark spine being severed in such a coldblooded and precise manner. The clearing began to echo with a chorus of moaning and sympathetic pain, and John could hear crying and whispered words that sounded like someone reciting the Lord’s Prayer.
He shared their shock, but he could not afford the distraction of grief or fear. He pushed his balled fist against the tree, attempting to get just a bit more room to move. “Come on!” he snarled and gritted his teeth, giving it a couple more tries until he felt something give a little as his hand moved every so slightly closer. At long last, he could get three of his fingers around the handle.
With the alien glue tearing at his skin, John stretched even farther to pull his hand back far enough to unsnap the safety strap that held the razor sharp blade in its sheath and carefully pull the knife out. He would have to take quite a bit of its length into his hand to get it clear of the leather.
John was focused on controlling every movement of his fingers. He was slowly inching the handle up into the palm of his hand when he was startled as someone let out a scream. He lost his grip and let the knife slide back into place.
To his left, he could see the beast eyeing Macy, up close and personal. It was showing its teeth in a wide smile-like expression. It seemed to be trying to provoke her to scream again, as if it found the noise to be entertaining. When there was no reaction, he opened his mouth wider to show the rows of teeth in his mouth in a more threatening pose.
Macy yelled, “Where is she, you piece of shit? What did you do with her?” The beast tilted its head as though it was asking her to repeat the question. “What did you do with my sister? Was it your fucking ship we were taken to? What did you do with her?”
The creature turned its back to her swinging its tail hitting the base of the tree where she was glued as it headed back toward Mark. “I’ll kill you, motherfucker! I’ll kill you and I’ll gut you like a fucking fish!” She was screaming at the top of her lungs at it as it walked away without looking back. From John’s perspective, it seemed to be shaking its head and laughing at her.
“John, you used to be a marine, right?” The creature turned to look at Eddie as he spoke. “Oh shit!” His voice was almost a whisper now. “Can’t you help us get out of here somehow?” Eddie remained quiet as the alien turned away again.
John continued trying to get a grip on his knife. He had needed the short rest since his hand had begun to cramp before it had slipped from his fingers on the last try. He was hoping to get a better grip but, since his arm was locked into such an awkward angle, it was almost physically impossible and quite painful to reach the handle and pull it out.
Just as he managed to force his hand back into position, John caught sight of the movement to his right. A second creature was moving slowly into view. It was down on all fours, the extra appendage hanging limply to the ground as it crawled. It swayed and staggered as though it was sick. John watched it lumber across the clearing as he began to work the knife little by little out of the sheath. Slowly the second alien moved toward the hanging eggs. It stumbled collapsing with its face in the dirt.
From the look of its stretched, sagging skin John guessed it to be a female. She had most likely been weakened from producing the eggs. The male creature moved to help his mate get to her fee
t. He walked along supporting her as they moved to the egg sac. She needed to lie down, and did so with help. She positioned herself right across Mark’s back!
Thirty Five
The male creature was somewhere out of sight, and John was determined to free his arm enough to get hold of his knife. Marcus was just regaining consciousness. Until now, even Mark’s screams had not awakened him, and Mark had screamed loud enough to wake the dead.
Marcus was not sure what was happening around him. Things looked very green, and he could sense that he was somewhere in the woods. He couldn’t remember hiking here. Although he realized he had been asleep, he sure as hell didn’t feel like he was in a sleeping bag. One thing he was sure of, he was unable to move.
He was definitely hung up on something vertical. Was he tied up? His eyes began to clear. “What the fuck? What is this shit? Where am I? Why the fuck can’t I move?” The steady stream of questions did not allow time for a response. “Very funny, guys. Now cut me down!”
A voice beside him spoke, “Marcus, be quiet! It will hear you.” He recognized the speaker even though it was more of a desperate sounding whisper than someone actually speaking out loud, and he could hear the fear in Sherri’s voice.
“What? Who’s gonna hear me?” He blinked and squinted as the scene in front of him came into focus. “Oh shit! What is that? Is that Mark?” He saw the blood that had oozed around Mark’s body. He rasped, “What the fuck happened here?” Marcus suddenly became quiet as his vision cleared and he could take it all in.
Sherri whispered, “Hang in there Marcus. We’re gonna get out of this.” She tried to reassure him. “Gran and Nana said not to worry. We are gonna be freed and then we have to run like hell.”
