by Terry Yates
“All right, Folks,” Kyler announced loudly, looking down at Lauren, his back to the others. “We’re going to need some quiet around here for a little while. I’ve never actually performed an appendectomy, so I really…really need to concentrate. I know we’re all in a bit of a quandary here, but right now this child’s needs have to come first so I’d appreciate it if you could all just remain calm. We’re all safe and dry right now so let’s just keep the panic low and take care of this young lady. How about it?”
He heard grunts of approval from behind him. The sound of people shuffling silently around was almost calming, until he realized that now he could actually hear the hurricane. It sounded like a freight train with its destination somewhere around his ass. Damn. He almost wished everyone were talking again. Pass over, Dammit! Pass over! He waited a moment hoping that it might indeed pass over, but the train was still roaring loudly down the tracks.
He looked down at Lauren again and took a deep breath. Nurse Walling stood to his left ready to assist. In front of her on a small table, everything that they would need was lined up in rows according to the order that they would need them. Ariella stood silently opposite them. Nurse Walling had given her a crash course in monitoring Lauren’s vitals. She would have to check respiration and pulse. They hadn’t even bothered retrieving the heart monitor. It was in a room on the first floor, which meant it had probably been destroyed along with everything else. She would have to check her heart with a stethoscope, which she was wearing around her neck.
Okay, one last breath, he thought. One last great, big, breath, and then he would begin performing his first appendectomy. All right. Here we go. He was just about to put the scalpel against Lauren’s stomach when…
“God damn! It’s hittin’ hard out there!”
Kyler flinched and dropped his scalpel but not before almost cutting Lauren wide open. Fortunately, as the scalpel fell from his fingers, it turned over, nicking him on his index finger instead of cutting Laura. It was Potts and the three soldiers. The storm had become so strong that they had to suspend their search for Oliver Dixon. They were all wearing rain ponchos, which were now dripping all over the floor.
“Col. Potts. Please,” said Kyler, gritting his teeth through the surgical mask.
“What?” Potts retorted. “Oh yeah…the little girl. Are you about to operate?”
Kyler wanted to say, “No, I’m on my way to a Broadway show,” but thought better of it.
“Yes, Colonel. We need to operate now,” he answered instead.
“So, could you stay out of the way and keep that big mouth of yours shut?” Nurse Walling interjected, removing Kyler’s bloody glove. Kyler had forgotten about their feud.
“Nurse Walling, we have an operation to perform and we…”
“Ah, is that you behind that mask?” Potts asked sarcastically, looking her up and down, rain still dripping from his face. “I must say you’ve never looked better.”
Kyler had seen that one coming from a mile away.
“Nurse, put a band-aid on my finger and get me another glove.” He hadn’t said “please” this time. People seemed to move quicker when told what to do as opposed to being polite. That was a little trick he had picked up from Dr. Phillips in med school and was starting to get a refresher course from Potts, the only difference being that he did it in a softer voice where Potts had a voice so loud that even the deafest person would be able to hear him over the hurricane.
“Could we get on with this, please? My daughter…” Ariella asked nervously. Kyler looked at her. It must be true, he thought, that the eyes were the windows to the soul for although her face and head were completely covered at that moment, her eyes spoke volumes.
“That’s what we’re about to do now, Dr. O’Hearley,” he answered in a soft tone.
Being called Dr. O’Hearley somehow brought her back down to earth again, because he could see her eyes go from being full of fear, back to normal, and her body go from mega tense to normal tense. She never seemed completely at ease. Very few ultra-geeks did. There was always a certain stiffness to their physical demeanor. Kyler smiled at her not sure if Ariella could tell through the mask.
As Nurse Walling was placing a small butterfly band-aid around his finger, he thought it the perfect time to find out what was going on.
“How’s it looking out there, Colonel?” he asked Potts, still keeping his voice in a low, soft register. “Any sign of a letup…or other things?”
“Hell no,” he shot back. “I can’t figure this bitch out. Most hurricanes blow through in a few minutes, maybe a little longer…but this one’s going on and on…and seems to be getting worse. And as for our friend, we didn’t see him either. I’m guessing he’s lying under three or four buildings or a bunch of trees right now. Are they still sticking to the story that it was that burn victim of yours?
“It was the burn victim,” Michael Blum said from his bed. “We all saw him.” He waited for some backup from the others but got none. Shelly Dixon was out as was Opal Munn, her sedatives having finally kicked in. That left Lauren, who was unconscious and Rob Olsen who still continued to sit on the bed and stare down silently.
“Whatever, Kid.” Potts shot back over his shoulder. “How long do you think all this is gonna take?
“I don’t know, Colonel. She’s in pretty…she’s not doing well at the moment.” Once again, Kyler wanted to kick himself. He had the girl’s mother standing five feet from him and he had practically called her daughter terminal. “Why?” he asked.
“It’s getting worse out there and we might need to find a safer place to bivouac, although I’m not too sure where we’d go.” He paused for a moment as if deep in thought. Kyler wished he had a camera. He wanted this moment for posterity. It was probably the only time that the Colonel had ever been at a loss for words. He probably came out of the womb ordering his mother to put her tits in formation for inspection. “But…not to worry…whatever it is, I don’t think it’ll come back.”
A gasp from one of the others was heard behind him. He didn’t know whom it was, but he was pretty sure that they were thinking what he was thinking. The beast might come back. He hadn’t even thought of that. He and probably everyone else had just assumed that the thing wouldn’t come back. He had heard it howl in pain when it had been shot. Why would it come back to a place where it had felt pain? Of course, it might be fairly pissed about having been caused so much pain and might really want to have a good ol’ heart to heart with those that had been at the root of its misery.
“What are we gonna do if it does?” asked Gringo Boots, taking a few steps forward, then stopping. His curly black hair was sticking almost straight up. Even the sides stood straight up giving him an appearance not unlike one of those little troll dolls or possibly someone who had been standing on top of an extremely large air grate.
“We’ll kill it,” Potts answered matter of fact.
“What makes you so sure you can kill it? I saw you and your men shoot at it a dozen times and it still got away from ya’.” Gringo was smug now. “You don’t even know what it is, do you?”
“No. It’s the enemy, that’s all I know. Don’t care, really.”
At that moment, Samantha moved to Gringo’s side. Potts hadn’t even noticed her till now. He hadn’t seen THIS nurse around the hospital before. She must be new.
“Christ Bojiminy!” he exclaimed loudly. “I can almost see your cooch!”
CHAPTER 12
It stopped for a moment, it’s heart racing. It had repeatedly been knocked down by both the gale force wind and by debris flying through the air. A streetlight had come out of nowhere and had hit it on the shoulder causing it to howl in pain. The wind was blowing the warm blood from the wound out into the darkness.
It found temporary shelter behind a large grove of trees that had not been destroyed yet by the storm. It was hungry and it was thirsty. The only thing that could or would satisfy the creature came from the same source. It had sated i
tself momentarily at the big white rock where there had been many to prey on, but most of them had been sick or diseased. It didn’t like sick or diseased. It liked healthy, fat, round animals. Animals that ran and got its bloodlust up, animals that quivered when it bared its teeth, animals that fought the beast right up until the final twitch of their very last involuntary muscle.
It was having trouble finding new prey. It had a keen sense of smell, but the strong wind was making it hard to pick up scents. It knew that there were animals out there, but the wind was blowing their scents in different directions and the cold rain was matting down its fur and making it shiver. The beast didn’t want to go back to the big white rock if it could keep from it. The feasting had been good, but it had felt pain there. The lights had hurt its eyes and the fiery burning rocks that these little creatures hurled at it had caused it much pain. It would go back if it had to, but for right now it felt free to roam, free to hunt, and free to kill. The beast had no true thought process but it felt joy and exhilaration at the prospect of another hunt, of warm blood going down its throat, and of flesh and meat shredding between its razor sharp fangs.
The monster lifted its nose into the air and began to sniff, its black nostrils pulsating back and forth, mucus dripping down towards its mouth. Small expulsions of breath blew out both sides of its mouth, its tongue enjoying the cold rain. It turned its nose away from the wind, searching. And then it found it…faint at first, but still close. It was a scent…several scents as a matter of fact. Its keen sense of smell could tell one animal from another, and it told it that there was a small herd close. It lost the scent for a moment, but quickly found it again. It wouldn’t have mattered if the beast had lost the scent entirely, because it knew where this small herd was. It began to pant harder, salivating as it did so. It turned its head to the sky and began to howl. The hunt was on.
CHAPTER 13
“God damn! We’ve gotta do something!” Private Aurelio Martinez yelled over the storm. “I don’t think we can stay out in this much longer!”
Cpl. Marcus Dixon stopped and began to survey the area. The rain had pelted them nonstop since the small group had begun looking for cover. The seven of them had been in charge of both pulling bodies from the jet crash and seeing that they were battened down in the small morgue that Dixon guessed wasn’t even there anymore. Iron Ass Potts had basically sent them on a fool’s mission and now they were lost. He wouldn’t hear the end of this. Potts wasn’t known for his quick promotion of black soldiers.
Normally, all seven of them could’ve found their way around No Name Island blindfolded with their ears plugged up, but not now. It was pitch black, the wind was literally blowing them over, and the rain was beating down on them. Their flashlights weren’t any help because they had no landmarks anymore. Buildings, trees, and most everything else that they would normally recognize had been completely destroyed by the storm. No one had thought to bring a compass because no one had expected to need it. They had assumed that they were just going to secure the morgue, look for stragglers, rendezvous back at base camp, and then hop the helicopters back to Miami for a few days to be with his wife and twins. He was worried about them. She had given birth only the day before and he didn’t know where they were. His mind told him that they would have been one of the first evacuated from the island, but he had no concrete proof and it was driving him crazy, plus he had been put in charge of this little mission and he had gotten them all lost. They were standing in a field somewhere…but which one? There were many places on the island where there were no buildings, but he just couldn’t figure out which one they were standing in. They had to find some sort of shelter and fast. The storm was blowing things through the air that he never thought he’d see flying through the sky such as twenty foot trees, car seats, tires, and what he would’ve sworn was either an alligator or a crocodile. He wasn’t from Florida, so he never could remember which of the reptiles thrived in the area. He was from Detroit and they generally didn’t see a lot of either one.
A large lightning bolt flashed across the sky illuminating the falling rain and giving it a sort of silver color. A roaring thunderclap quickly followed causing them to duck and cover their ears. That was it. He had to make some sort of decision whether it was right of wrong. They were walking lightning rods and as close as that last lightning bolt had come, it might not be too long before one or all of them got fried like a group of wedged potatoes.
He wiped the rain from his face and looked at the six other men, each looking at him trying not to give away any concerns, but it wasn’t working. They were as nervous as he was and he knew it.
“We’re going this way!” he yelled pointing towards more darkness. “Spread out a little! If we travel in a cluster, we’re more apt to get struck by lightning!”
With this, Dixon and the rest of the soldiers turned their helmets to the wind and began to slowly run across the field staying low as if they were moving across a battlefield. Flying debris had littered the ground and was continuing to fly overhead landing haphazardly across the area. Dixon just hoped that they were going in the right direction.
Another lightning bolt flashed across the sky lighting up the area for at least six or seven seconds. Dixon looked off to his right while the sky was still lit up. He wasn’t sure but he thought that he saw some kind of structure, maybe a building. He turned to the others.
“I thought I saw something over there!” he screamed at the other five. Dixon started to turn back around when he noticed that something didn’t seem quite right. When he had turned to the others, the sky had been bright from the lightning, and then had gone dark again, burning the last moments into his retina much like what happens when you’re looking at a lamp when its been turned off. The image of the light bulb is burned into the eyes for a few seconds and no matter which way you turn, eyes open or closed, you can’t get rid of that light bulb. That’s what he was seeing now. Five soldiers.
He turned back around and looked at the others. They had all placed themselves about twenty feet apart as they ran. Seeing that Dixon had stopped, they stopped. There were only five. Through the storm, he couldn’t tell who was who, so he motioned them all to him.
“What is it, Marcus?” Martinez asked loudly.
Dixon looked at the five. Martinez was there, so was Albritton, King, Koontz, and Bethea.
“Where’s Gunderson?” he screamed over the roar of the storm.
The others turned around. No Gunderson.
“Gunderson!” Dixon hollered behind them. “Gunderson!” There was no answer. The lightning lit up the sky again, but still no Gunderson. “Gunder…”. The words caught in his throat. When the sky lit up a third time, Dixon saw something standing no more than fifty feet away. Something large that stood straight up. It sure as shit wasn’t Gunderson, who was no more than five feet seven. This thing was a foot taller than any of them.
Dixon looked at his men to make sure that they were seeing the same thing. He needn’t have bothered. The other five soldiers had all moved next to him. Between lightning flashes, they could see that it was an animal and its eyes glowed yellow in the darkness.
“What is it?” Pvt. King asked, talking as low as he could but not having much luck over the roar of the storm.
“I don’t know,” Dixon answered, never taking his eyes of the shape.
“It’s just standing there,” Martinez told him, his cheek almost touching Dixon’s.
“Take out your side arms,” he ordered the rest of the group. “Slowly!” He wished they’d brought their rifles which they carried most of the day guarding the main building from civilians, non classified personal, and ufologists who swore something alien was hidden in the underground bunkers. Potts always made sure that they carried side arms. You weren’t a soldier in his eyes unless you carried at least a grenade.
The large shape continued to stand motionless in the dark as the men slowly drew their pistols. For thirty seconds, no one moved, man or beast. The son of a bit
ch seemed to be playing with them, toying with them, waiting for them to make the first move. Dixon could see that the men were getting edgy. The thing was enormous.
“What do we do, Corporal?” Pvt. Koontz asked, his eyes wide and his teeth chattering. Dixon could see that he was about to lose it.
“Okay, men…” Dixon started, “spread out, and the next time the sky’s lights up, shine your flashlights on it and let him have it.”
“What about Gunderson?” Pvt. King asked.
“I’m not feeling too good about Gunderson right now,” he answered. “Just shoot the thing, okay?”
The men began to nervously spread out, not wanting to get too far away from each other. As they did so, they noticed that the shape remained dead still. Dixon wanted to just tell everyone to haul ass, but he knew instinctively that this was going to be a standoff, it versus them. They would wait for the sky to light up again and then it would be on.
They didn’t have to wait long because no more than five seconds later, a three pronged lightning bolt shot across the sky stretching from horizon to horizon. It could’ve been daylight for all anyone knew for the sky was alight in a bright blue color. It was then that they got a good look at the enemy. It stood on two doglike legs, it’s large feet padded, with claws that stuck out at least six inches. It was covered with brownish red fur, which was wet and matted down. Its head was massive with a canine shaped cranium and ears that stood straight up from each side of its head. A large snout protruded from its face with a large, black, triangular nose that sat dead center on the end of it. The mouth was open in a snarl allowing its enemy to see several dozen razor sharp teeth lining the top and bottom of its mouth. Even from fifty feet away, they could tell that most of the teeth were pearly white with several strands of what Dixon guessed were probably pieces of Gunderson’s skin. Its belly was thick with fur and looked like it was probably soaked with mud…or Gunderson’s blood. It stood like a dog stood when you saw them dancing on old variety shows, but instead of their cute little forelegs hanging down limply around the chest area, this thing stood with forelegs stretch out to its side with claws that seemed to stick out of its humongous paws like bayonets. But it was the eyes that drew the most terror from the men for they were yellow, with pupils the size of pinheads, which gave it an extremely angry look.
