by Maxey, Phil
She saw it straight away even in the dark, for the lizard-like scales across its back reflected the light from the sky. Unfortunately it also saw her, and its bird like head snapped around. The thing had four legs with webbed claws at the end. It reminded her of an otter, except it was the size of a rhino.
It started thundering up the bank of the reservoir towards her.
Her rifle caught in her jacket as she fumbled to bring it from her shoulder, but an extra tug pulled it free. She wasn’t even sure one bullet would be enough to put this thing down, as it looked well armored.
It reached the crest of the slope and broke into a gallop, its clawed feet sending up plumes of dirt and rock.
A boom filled the night air as she fired off one shot.
Miss.
She quickly reloaded and steadied her arm. The thing was now twenty feet away, leaving a scar across the lawn of whoever once lived in the house with the scenic view.
Another shot, another miss.
Images of her parents bloodied bodies started to push their way into her vision.
She reloaded again. This time kneeling, resting her elbow on her knee.
Ten feet from her. A sour smell began to invade her nostrils.
The thing roared.
She pulled the trigger once again, only this time it jammed.
She closed her eyes.
A clatter of gunfire opened up and she instinctively fell backwards. Streams of bullets from multiple directions tore into the thing, sending it off course, away from Sofia, and through the glass windows of the home’s sun lounge. A cacophony of noise came from the rear room as the thing swiped at walls and furniture around it.
Sofia scrambled to her feet as three shadowy figures appeared from the bushes and walked towards the chaos inside the house, and fired again. After a few seconds the E.L.F screeched then fell silent.
A man, woman and teenage boy stood looking back at her, lit by her flashlight.
“You’re welcome,” said the man.
CHAPTER THREE
Grant opened his eyes to slithers of light squeezing through his blinds. His two room apartment was a step up from sharing a dorm with twelve others, and he was thankful when Horten offered it to him along with his new status of joint chief security officer within Zone F, Mason Hendricks being his partner. The military still rubber stamped their missions, but during the month that had passed since he arrived in the zone he had managed to find others to help, and now was in charge of around fifteen people split into smaller teams.
He turned and looked at the empty space in the bed next to him. Rose had already left to do her rounds on the sick within the university campus and broader to the medical centers beyond. He let his hand slide to his right. The bed was cold. She had left some time ago, which meant he needed to be up to get the nightly report on E.L.F incursions.
There was a light knock on his bedroom door.
“Come in, it’s not locked.”
The door creaked open and Ben peered through the gap as if he were looking into a cave.
“I’m the only one here. Rose left some time ago.”
The relationship, if you could call it that between his son and the doctor he met five weeks earlier was strained. Ben was not ready to let go of his real mother, and Grant felt the same about Iona. Generally though he had managed to not think too much of the past. There was pre-Cascade, and then there was the Cascade. The future he wasn’t sure about, but he did have a plan if things deteriorated inside the walls, which now stood at a hundred feet around most of San Diego. The plan was simple and was made up of one word. ‘East.’
In the clothes cupboard opposite him were three ‘go-bags’. One for him, Ben and Rose.
His son brought his other hand forward, it held a steaming mug of coffee. He had been delivering the beverage on the dot at 8 a.m. since they moved in. Grant smiled and pushed himself up against the headboard.
“Any news I should be aware of?”
By ‘news’ he not only meant the pieces of paper which were slid under the bottom of the apartment’s door by runners from Horten’s office, but also anything Ben might have gleamed from the universities radio station.
Ben placed the mug on the side table, and sat on the edge of the bed. “No notes from HQ—” ‘HQ’ was what Ben called the main part of the university where the military worked from. “— But Jerry from the Camp report show said things are bad in Europe. Most of the major cities from London to Ukraine have fallen.”
He looked sad. A visit to the UK and other European capitals was on their joint to do list before he went to college.
A few weeks earlier Grant might have tried to reassure him that everything would return to normal at some point and the trip to Big Ben and the Louvre was still on the cards, but once LA and some other coastal cities fell, it was obvious, there was no more ‘normal.’ No returning to Monday night football or sitting in the backyard with a good beer. All of that was ‘pre-Cascade.’ Now there was only survival against the monsters, or E.L.F’s as the military liked to label them.
“There will be other places.”
“Yeah, I know…”
“How’s the comic coming along?”
Ben’s face lit up. “Real good, wait here… I mean, don’t get up just yet. I’ll—”
Grant smiled. It was an honest smile made up of pride and hope. “I’m not going anywhere. At least not until the coffee’s gone.”
Ben sprang to his feet and ran out, slipping somewhat on the hardwood floor. He had been gone from view for mere seconds before the air filled with the sounds of air raid sirens. Grant knew the sound. The military did a drill just a week before to test the zones response to a large scale attack from E.L.F’s. As he clambered out of bed and threw the blind to the side to see out onto the street, he racked his mind to remember if another drill had been scheduled for today.
By time Ben reappeared with an A4 notepad with his drawings on, Grant had realized this was no drill. Something was coming.
*****
Daniel Bass stood behind one of many piles of sandbags on a six-story apartment block which bordered the university complex, and looked out towards the west, zone E and just visible in the morning mists, the ocean beyond.
The constant wailing of the siren was making him lose concentration on the scene in his binoculars. “Yeah, yeah we get it, trouble’s on its way.” He said under his breath. There was lots of movement in the other zone. Twin-engined helicopters were all heading towards the bay, ferrying troops, but he had no idea why. A number of attempts on his radio just gave him a sharp reply from his CO.
If they were about to be attacked, he would prefer to know. Things were different before. Before a young woman dragged his ass out of the fire. The last time he checked his sister was still safe on the east coast, but on the western seaboard it had been just him, no one else to be concerned about. Now though, not too far away there was someone else. Sofia. So if monsters were about to appear out of the heat haze over the built up areas near the coast, he needed to know.
His radio crackled then Captain Taylor’s voice burst from it. “You seeing anything yet Sergeant? Over.”
“If it wasn’t for the Chinooks and Apache’s it would be a beautiful day up here Captain. Over.”
“The pontoons a few miles out are seeing a lot of seismic activity. Something is definitely heading towards the coast. There’s a number of platoons guarding the beaches, which should be enough, but I’m sending a squad to join you. Mostly light infantry, but they got some kick if the situation turns bad. If anything starts to make it across E, you and them need to tell me about it. Over.”
Great…
“Yes, ma’am, happy to be here. Over.”
A few blocks to the west Grant stormed up the stairs of the main university building with uniforms rushing the other way. He told Ben to stay in the apartment until he returned. He hated leaving him alone, but there was no way he was going to be able to do his job with his son nearby. At
least he had the spare radio, so staying in touch via that was going to have to do for now. He also hoped to get Sofia to go and stay with him, he just needed to get her a message.
He came to the top floor and flashed his security card at the privates on guard, not waiting to see their response, and moved through the double doors to the wide corridor which housed the rooms where most of the decisions for the camp were made. He kept on going, moving past concerned faces huddled over desks in side offices and repeated the same card procedure with the two soldiers standing outside the conference room, which they promptly let him in to.
“Glad to see your partner could join us,” said Colonel Horton looking at Mason who was sitting on the back edge of the long mahogany table. Four more of the seats were also occupied with officers Grant recognized.
“There’s an incoming attack?” said Grant to the man in charge.
“Our ocean warning system started giving us a heads up about twenty minutes ago. Things moving on the ocean floor. Extremely large things. At first we thought it could be a good old fashioned Californian earthquake, but the tech guys tell me the signals were too erratic to be that.”
Grant went to respond when Horton held his hand up, preferring to listen to whatever was coming through his headset. He nodded to a young uniformed woman at a computer terminal.
“Put it up on the screen.”
A few keyboard taps later and the large flat screen monitor at the front of the room, buzzed into life, showing a helmet cam from a soldier on one of the newly built walls.
“Go ahead, Captain. Over.”
“That’s an easterly wall…” said Mason under his breath.
In the distance rolling hills full of summer foliage looked pristine in the sun from the vantage point of a hundred feet above the ground.
An uniformed arm appeared stretched out in front of the camera, pointing to a spot some miles off at the crest of one of the smaller hills.
“Five clicks out sir, we’re seeing a lot of movement. Spans north to south, covering about two miles. Over.”
“Stay vigilant son, we’re sending a Huey over you now to see what’s going on. Over.”
Just as the colonel finished his message a roar rattled the monitors speakers and the helicopter from another era soared past, swiftly moving eastwards. The view on the screen switched to the hills and trees sliding by, beneath a set of boots and a .50 cal M2 machine gun.
Whoever that was, then quickly looked back inside the cabin and the view switched to the pilot who was pointing forward, while talking to the gunner behind him. Their words made it through the monitors speakers and into the room, but were too chaotic and interspersed with static to get a grasp on.
“What is that?” said one of the older officers leaning forward in his seat, a man Grant didn’t particularly care for. Lieutenant Colonel Craig Lowe.
“Captain Mellor is piloting the Huey, sir,” said the female comms officer to Horton.
Horton went to speak into his microphone, not being completely aware of what was appearing on the large screen, but on seeing the creatures which were now coming into view below the chopper, and that stretched for miles in all directions, stopped, his mouth falling slightly open.
“They’re… They…” The pilot’s words were filled with fear, and then were eclipsed by the loud thudding of the helicopters main gun opening up.
“Get out of—”
Before Horton could finish there was a crunch, instantly followed by a squeal, followed by what looked like an animal trunk of some kind that smashed into the cabin, and the feed went black. It then came to life with shouts, roars and glimpses of hills and sky spiraling past.
“Mellor. Mellor!”
The screen went back again, then returned to the view from the soldier on the wall.
“They got’m!” said a man off camera.
Just beyond a distant hill, black smoke coiled up into the blue.
“Er… Sir, The Huey’s gone down. Over.”
“We can see son. Over.”
Horton looked at Lowe. “Craig, get your platoon to the east wall.”
The man with gray hair and brown eyes, stood, nodded and left the room.
Grant walked closer to the screen, then looked at the officer controlling what cameras they were seeing. “Can you rewind to the shots from the Huey?”
She looked at the Colonel who nodded. She tapped on her keyboard and the footage went in reverse, stopping a second or so before the feed starting to blink out.
“Stop!” said Grant.
They all looked at a freeze frame of a sea of creatures. Some a few story’s tall, other’s like ants. Black, browns mixed with colors more at home on tropical birds and frogs. Some of the creatures appeared to be engaged in fights. But one thing all of the E.L.F’s had in common, was their direction of travel. Towards the camp.
“There are hundreds,” said a middle aged woman. Major Farah Ward.
Horten looked at the comms officer again. “Put me through to Gonzales in D, and I want to know if Miller is seeing any sign of E.L.F’s on the southern border.”
Grant looked at the balding man in charge. “Where do you want me and Mason?”
“Keep the civilians under control and stay the hell out of the way of my guys.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Ben looked out of the third-floor apartment window to the forecourt below and an identical building opposite. A man in a sleeveless T-shirt hung out over a small balcony. He hadn’t noticed Ben looking at him yet and was ignoring a woman shouting at him from the room behind, while watching soldiers run left and right below.
Suddenly the man looked up making Ben pull away from the window. He wasn’t sure if the man saw him, but when he peered back around the frame, he was gone, and the door to the balcony was closed.
Ben hated the siren. It was a sound he had only heard before in old movies. Movies that he always hated watching, but his dad said he needed to.
‘This is how people dealt with a bad time before.’ Grant would say.
They were about war and what happened a hundred years ago, or maybe it was sooner, Ben wasn’t sure, but their images were devoid of color and their special effects if you could call them that, were clearly just toys. But he had enjoyed watching them on the old plastic cassettes that his dad had found in one of the camps markets, together with a strange device for playing them on. Friday was film night. The one night where he didn’t have chores of homework. That would have been tomorrow. He wondered what the next film from the box of tapes they had would have been.
The front door shuddered making him jump, and he stepped back and stood on an plug, sending a pulse of pain through his bare foot. He said a bad word, half thinking he would get in trouble, then remembered he was alone, then wishing he wasn’t.
His heart was beating.
“Stop being a baby!” he said out loud.
Need to put my sneakers on. Dad will be back. Then maybe we will need to leave. But it has already been an hour. Maybe he’s forgotten I’m here… Maybe something’s happened.
He felt his throat tighten, tears threatening to flow from his eyes.
“No… I won’t cry. He will be back.”
People were shouting outside in the hallway. He couldn’t hear what they were heated about, just that there was more than one voice. Again the door shuddered and he backed away into the wall, almost knocking a small vase to the floor.
He’s not coming back… I’m going to be left here, for when the monsters come.
Now the tears came, running down his cheek, but there were no sobs. He was too afraid for that. He slid down the paperless wall until he was seated and pulled his knees to his chest. On the small coffee table a few feet away was his notepad with ‘Captain Cascade, written and drawn by Ben Collins’ printed at the top.
“Stupid…” he said under his breath, but then leaned forward, grabbing the thick pad and nearby pencil and started drawing.
*****
After part
ing company with Mason, Grant ran back to his apartment, flinging the door open. Ben stood in the hallway, his notepad in his hand.
“You came back!”
Grant ran forward, kneeling and hugging his son on seeing how afraid he looked.
“The siren’s still going. The monsters are coming, aren’t they?”
“Maybe. But we’ll be ok. That’s what the walls and the soldiers are here for. I need you to go in my room and grab the go—”
Grants radio came to life with Rose’s voice.
“Grant? Are you there—” Despite the siren in the background, he could tell she was driving. “— we’re being told to evacuate patients from medical centers near to the wall. I’m on my way to the San Miguel center now. Can you spare any of your people to help? Over.”
“Get the go bags,” whispered Grant to his son.
“Are we leaving?”
Grant nodded and Ben promptly turned and ran into the main bedroom.
He held his radio to his mouth. “I’m here Rose. You haven’t got long before E.L.F’s are going to be on the other side of the east wall. Once I’ve dropped Ben off, I’ll be out there with—”
Footsteps came from behind, making him turn to face the front door.
The broad frame of Ethan stood in the doorway, with Carrie behind. Both were in full kit. Weapon magazines in pockets, along with water bottles, hunting knifes and sidearms. They both also had rifles over their shoulders.
“Thought we’d save you some time and come to you boss,” said Ethan.
Grant nodded and smiled, then clicked on his radio again. “How many will you have to move? Over.”
“Five patients. The most critical. They are the last to...” There was a screeching of breaks.
“You there? What happened?”
“Something just flew over me, cast a shadow bigger than the—” Squeals and the unmistakable sound of metal crashing into metal came through the radio’s speaker.
