Born of Chaos

by Jeff DeMarco

  Colby ran to him, flipped open his multi-tool. “Mind telling me what’s going on?”

  “Wire.” He pried the first of many staples off the wire leading up to the ballpark lights. “We need as much as possible.”

  Colby looked up; metal rods pounded into the pole formed a makeshift ladder to the top. “Uuugh.” He looked over at the two egg-heads, not a climber between them. “God damnit.” He slipped his body armor off, grabbed the knife and started his ascent.

  They pulled the battery from the machine, set it into the dugout.

  Colby clenched the knife in his teeth, climbing the makeshift rungs, hand over hand. Looking down at the ground, his Soldiers at their perimeter; he wished he had brought a rope to secure him. He reached; the wire ran into a metal control box on the opposite side of the pole. He tugged, the wire held tight in place. He climbed further, the last rod under his feet; he hugged the pole.

  Everett and Dr. Bariac positioned the device near the pitcher’s mound, and poured the solution into the hopper.

  The knife used like a screwdriver, popped the single screw securing the control box lid. He reached in blind, a thick mesh of cobwebs and layers of filth. Feeling for an end, he tugged, slipping from the rod.

  Panic, as he clung to the control box, dangling with only ground beneath him. He swung, his feet narrowly touching the rod.

  ‘Screw this,’ he thought, climbing back down the pole. He took the knife from his teeth, slicing furiously through the copper cable. The loose end in his hand, he began his descent, ripping the wire from staples securing it to the pole.

  The others rewired the machine and waited for his descent. “Any trouble?” Dr. Bariac asked.

  Colby rolled his eyes and sighed.

  “We’ll need someone to stay behind,” Dr. Bariac said. “Activate the device.”

  “What’re you looking at me for?” Everett shrunk from the conversation. “It’s not… safe.”

  “Nonsense,” Dr. Bariac said. “We’ll close the door to the dugout, seal if off with some chain, or something.”

  “Or something?” Everett backed away slowly, as though he might run at any moment. “They’ll tear through the fence.”

  “Can we maybe do this tomorrow?” Colby pressed hard at the stress in his forehead. “Find a better op area, not go off half-cocked.”

  “The virus is extremely aggressive. With that, only a 3 hour half-life.” He squeezed his eyes shut, mumbling a math equation to himself. “One divided by two to the eighth… less than a single percentage of the virus remaining; perhaps if we were to re-introduce the virus to a living specimen.” He shook his head. “Virus will be dead by the time we re-capture a specimen… so we’d have to re-manufacture, re-administer, and hopefully-“

  “Ugh…” Colby let out a groan. “I’ll do it. Just show me how to work the damn thing.”

  Everett’s eyes lit up, though a weight had lifted from him. “Simple really. It’s set up so all you have to do is touch the wire to the positive terminal.

  “Super.” His tone was sarcastic. “And bait?”

  “They’re attracted to light. I’ve wired an ultraviolet bulb into the-“

  “I mean bait, like a dead deer.” He pinched the bridge of his nose at their blank stares. ”Hell, a squirrel even.”

  “I…” Dr. Bariac looked around. “Hadn’t considered it.”

  “Worthless,” Colby mumbled, flipping his pocket knife open. He cut deep into his hand, splattering the blood around the machine. “There… bait.” He walked back to the pole, picked up his body armor and weapon; pressed his handmic. “Rock 7, this is Rock 6… I’m staying behind to activate this machine. Need a chain off one of the Humvee’s. After that, you guys go… and take these idiots with you, please.”

  “Rock 6, this is Rock 7…” First Sergeant Rawlings’ voice sounded concerned. “What’re you doing, Sir?”

  “I know, right? Dumbest idea you’ve ever heard.”

  “You said it, Sir. Not me. We could leave a security detachment.”

  “Negative…” He let out a long sigh. “The only one I’m exposing is me. This structure’s metal and concrete. It’ll hold. If it doesn’t… I don’t know, tell all my girlfriends… don’t touch my stuff.”

  “Ha,” First Sergeant Rawlings let out a chuckle. “Roger that, Sir. Stay safe.”

  Colby sat there, waiting for death, chewing a piece of gum. Unsure whether the chain link would hold the creatures at bay or what the hell Dr. Bariac had poured into that machine. “Isn’t there supposed to be a light on this thing?” he muttered, then touched the wire to the positive terminal, causing the light to blink on; as well, an electric motor hummed, powering a set of bellows that sprayed the solution into the air. “Shit!” he said, pulling the wire from the terminal, the immediate thought to don his chemical mask, strapped to his hip.

  “Light…” He said rolling his eyes. “Can’t activate the light without activating the whole damn-“

  A rustling in the distance, the crunch of boots along gravel at his rear.

  He hunkered down, rested the barrel of his rifle quietly in a chain link.

  Three hunters came up over the berm; their nostrils flared, smelling the air.

  ‘Is three enough?’ he wondered. ‘How long will this thing run for, anyhow?”

  Their sniffing turned to the ground, passing over 1st base.

  Colby smiled at the thought, ‘Who’s on 1st?’ Followed immediately by the thought. ‘Oh, shit… this was a horrible idea.’ The chain rattled at the dugout door.

  “What the…?” Colby ran over, unclipped a heavy-duty carabiner.

  “Whoa!” Major Eckert scrambled inside, realizing the danger; secured the chain back in position. “Hope you don’t mind if I join you.”

  One lifted its head, crept over to them.

  “Your funeral.” Colby’s voice muffled through the chemical mask.

  Another hunter came in from the side.

  ‘Shit, shit, shit, shit,’ he thought, positioning his barrel at the hunter’s head.

  It let out a piercing shriek.

  Eckert pulled the charging handle of his M4. “You should know, I’m sorry.”

  He gritted his teeth, pulled the barrel from the chain link and tilted his head skyward. “I appreciate the sentiment, Sir, but now’s really not the time.”

  Its long slender arms protruded through the links; the others rushed in eager for a meal.

  “I should have listened.” Eckert fired off three rounds at them. “Had my head shoved so far up my ass.”

  He backed up, sat down on the bench and waited; the battery set beside him. He lifted his chemical mask and yelled, “Hey assholes!” hoping to attract more.

  Their mouths watered, shrieks sprayed hot putrid saliva onto him, their claws slashing at the metal fence, gripping and pulling to get in. More on the roof now, their talons clicking against the sheet metal, pounding and scraping. Then more at the fence, grabbing and clinging to the fence, their weight swaying and straining the hardware holding it all together.

  “Really, Sir.” He pressed the wire to the terminal, secured it in place with a piece of gum. “I forgive you.” The bulb illuminated into a brilliant glow; the mist grew slowly, then enveloped them in a blinding green haze, the ultraviolet rays refracting through the viral molecules.

  ‘Crack,’ a beam broke holding the metal roof in place; two creatures fell onto Eckert, knocking him unconscious, then quickly recovered, tearing into him.

  ‘Pop, pop, pop,’ Colby’s rifle set on three round burst, ripped through them in close quarters. ‘Pop, pop, pop – pop, pop, pop,’ as more swarmed in. ‘Pop, pop, pop – pop, pop, pop,’ the corner of chain link fence broke free. ‘pop, pop, pop,’ seven of them ripped a hole in it. ‘Pop, pop, click.’

  ‘Damn,’ he thought, reaching for his pistol. He felt the first one tear at his side, the next at his face, through the rubber chemical mask, then stopped. It turned, hunkered down in front of him, letting out a s
eries of screeches. They had all stopped in their tracks, the hunter in front of him edged forward, slashing at its own kind, bellowing screeches and postured on its haunches.

  Colby dragged Major Eckert from the dugout. The creature stopped and turned. Its talon rapped against Colby’s chest plate, then pointed down at Eckert.

  The words, ‘Don’t think they’ll let you both leave. Either you or him,’ rang through his head. He looked down at Major Eckert, bleeding out on the ground; his feet firmly planted in the ground.

  The creature shook its head with a puzzled indifference, then grabbed Colby by the collar and ran. They swarmed Major Eckert, now barely conscious, his body limp on the gravel. He felt claws and teeth dig into him, consume him and rip into his chest and organs.

  ‘Pop, pop, pop,’ rounds shot off in the distance, striking the creature ahead of Colby. “Run!” First Sergeant Rawlings’ voice echoed in the distance; the faint hum of engines, blackout lights in the distance.

  Colby sprinted; the rustling of hunters behind him. He burst into the back seat. “Drive!”

  Rawlings looked back with a smirk. “Didn’t honestly believe I’d leave you behind, Sir?”

  “They got him.” He breathed heavy, the combination of fear and adrenaline. “They got Major Eckert.”

  The machine hummed on, more than two dozen breathing in the mist and waiting their turn for a meal.

  CHAPTER 42

  “What the hell,” A Soldier muttered under her breath, now visible in the cold morning light. ‘Clack, clack, clack,’ She fired at the hunter.

  It quickly ducked into a ravine.

  She picked up her radio. “Dagger X-ray, this is Dagger 1-9-G. I’ve got a hunter, acting real strange out here. Request indirect fires…” She looked down at her range fan. “… Shift from known point 1-7, right 100 meters.

  His head lay on a table, positioned next to a radio; Colby shot up from his chair, having only napped a half hour from the previous night.

  “1-9-G, Fire Mission! Shift from known point-“

  The radio squelched. “Break, break break. This is Rock 6… Dagger 1-9-G, do not engage. I say again, do not engage.”

  “Sir,” First Sergeant Sams voice came over the radio. “Dagger 7 here. What’re you given orders to my gunner for.”

  “What the… where’s Hawk?”

  “Relieved,” Sams said. “Up at the prison. I’m back in charge.”

  He took off running towards Delta Battery. A call went out in his mind, ‘Taylor!’

  Silence.

  A groan came over the radio, a cry for help.

  He burst through the tent flaps, Sams mangled body laid horrifically postured, twisted and torn in the dirt; Soldiers and Sergeants looking on, their mouths hung open, eyes wide.

  Colby slumped down in a chair, looking away in a cringe. “Anyone?”

  A Private stepped forward, his face sheet white. “He just sorta got that way.”

  “Sorta got that way…” Colby eyed the young private. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “One second he’s talking on the radio, next, I look over and he’s screaming, his body turning in all sort of unnatural ways, ripping and blood gushing… no one touched him.”

  Lieutenant Alexander walked into the ops tent. “Holy mother of-“ She doubled over at the site.

  Colby stood, started off. “Get statements from everyone, LT.”

  She wiped her mouth. “Where you going, Sir?”

  “Hospital.” He took off at a sprint. “Figure out who did this.”

  “Been a while.” Terry sat in a crouch, his fists pressed to the ground, staring at the wall. The observation room, the prison he’d occupied for the last three months had turned him sour; as if they’d forgotten about him. Gloria hadn’t forgotten, nor had Ellen, though her visits had become more and more sporadic, and Ellen’s had stopped entirely.

  Gloria wheeled into the room. “I know,” she whispered. “But we’ve done it.”

  “Make me normal again?” he garbled, his voice coarse as sandpaper. He turned to look at her, his eyes fixed to the ground in front of her, ashamed to make eye contact.

  “Well…” She stared down at the hospital linoleum. “No… but the Hunters. We’ve released a virus. We can’t change their bodies… but their minds.”

  “Oh.” His tone deflated with his hope.

  “We need an ambassador, of sorts.” She forced eye contact. “Someone that looks like them, someone that can make contact.”

  “You want me to go out there?” He gated backwards on all fours. “With them?”

  She nodded slowly, sensing his apprehension.

  “Forget it.”

  “I understand,” she whispered. “Far be it for me to make you to put yourself in danger. Spending all day locked in here… It’s not much of a life.”

  He retreated to his corner, her words running through his mind.

  CHAPTER 43

  “Wasn’t me,” Luca whispered. A sickening pain at the exposed bone and musculature; his nerve endings open to atmosphere. Each draft of cool air felt as though his limbs ripped from his body, over and over again. “But I know who it was.” He cringed and reveled in the pain.

  Colby grabbed him by the shirt. “Tell me, you little bastard.”

  The jostling sensation shot through his limbs, up his spine, through his brainstem. “Who do you think?” He gritted his teeth into an ugly smile. “Your little buddy, Taylor. Something different about him.” He raised his amputated arm. “Can’t quite put my finger on it.”

  Colby slammed him down, back onto the bed.

  “And Captain Colby…You’re welcome.”

  His brow furrowed.

  “You didn’t think it was Taylor, saved your ass last night, did you?”

  “It should’ve been me,” he whispered.

  “Would it help if I told you he was already dead?”

  “Where’s Taylor?”

  “He wasn’t… felt everything.” Luca smiled. “Besides, I saved his ass once with the pistol round… As for Taylor, check the General’s tent.”

  Colby turned, an odd glance, then started for the door.

  “And Captain, don’t be surprised at what you find.”

  “What can I do for you, Captain?” Taylor stared at him through the pitch-black command tent, seated at General Petersen’s desk.

  Colby walked slowly inside. “Let’s go, Taylor. We’ve been looking for you.”

  “No.” Taylor shot up from the desk. “There isn’t any place I need to be, but here.”

  Colby stumbled over an obstruction, nearly fell. “Couldn’t we turn a light on?”

  “If you wish.” He reached for the lantern on the desk, flipped it on.

  Colby went rigid - the jaws missing, the tongues ripped out; three Soldiers in total.

  “It’s what I wanted.” He eased back into the chair. “Tell me, what do you want?”

  “I…” He stared down, flies already buzzing the corpses. “… want to get the hell out of here.”

  “Very well.” Taylor motioned towards the exit. “You should know, I’m taking charge of the fort. I like the direction you’re going in.” He smiled pleasantly. “So, please continue.” His mannerisms calm, as though he hadn’t just slaughtered several men.

  Colby nodded, scanned the room. One final look down at the bodies. “And when General Petersen and Erica return?”

  His lips pursed, as he folded his hands, business-like on the table. “We’ll jump off that bridge when it arrives.”

  CHAPTER 44

  Fear; the death toll on Fort Sill rose, as those beyond saving, and those that no longer cared, passed. Had there been a coroner on site performing autopsies, the cause of death would have been the same – acute thoracic aneurism, cause unknown. Normally a 50% mortality rate, but due to the severity and circumstance, none had survived.

  Despite the burden lifted from hospital staff, the ‘clearing out’ of dead weight from the tent cities and workforce,
a dread and despair hung over the population. Funerals held daily in mass graves, bodies coated with lime, dirt dropped over the hole with a backhoe.

  Crosses appeared, names and photos of the deceased; shreds of paper with memories scribbled on them. The task remained for the living - live on. The prospect seemed fruitless.

  “He just sits in there,” Colby whispered. “watching all of us.”

  “Maybe we go in there,” Hawk whispered back. “Talk some sense-“

  Colby shook his head. “The kid you knew… he’s gone. Don’t know what the hell happened, like a switch flipped.”

  “Too much pressure maybe.” Hawks eyes strained. “Maybe he’s snapped.”

  “Taylor.” Ellens voice rang softly through the tent. She walked inside – the smell, dead remnants of carnage hit her at once – the dark brown stained earth where corpses had once laid.

  A fly landed on his face. “Yes.” His tone oddly pleasant, though he peered under his brow, set lower than it once had.

  She stood rigid; a profound dominance to his presence. “You haven’t come to dinner in a while.”

  The fly buzzed off of him. “Is that what you want?” He snatched it in his palm and squeezed. An barely audible crunch that curled the ends of his mouth up.

  “Yes.” Her voice trembled, odd for one so unshakeable. “I…” She stopped, afraid to speak another word.

  He shot up – a jolt went up her spine, an impulse to run. He smiled. “Let’s go.”

  “You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he whispered. “You’ve been kind.” They passed through an entry control point, into Delta Battery’s area. “You’ve nothing to fear.”

  She felt her wits about her once more. “And those that haven’t?” Gravel crunched under foot in the fading light.

  He smiled up at her. “Nothing you need to worry about.” He opened the door to Dustin’s travel trailer. “I’m starving… what’s for dinner?”

  Bob laughed to himself. “Nice to meet you starving… I’m Bob.”

  Ellen rolled her eyes.

  “You’re funny, Bob.” Taylor chuckled as he sat, a welcome sign to Ellen. “And lazy, and a liar, and a cheat.”