by Ben Hammott
The remaining two aliens headed for the meteorite. They climbed onto it and squeezed into the crack.
When Kelly’s Euphoria faded to be replaced by pain, he waited for merciful death to claim him. The plane smashed through a church spire ripping off a wing, sending it onto a new trajectory, spraying burning fuel below. The aircraft struck the radio mast at the edge of town head-on. The nose crumpled, and some of the cockpit windows shattered. Although oblivious to the glass shards puncturing his skin, he felt the sharp pangs of grief as they struck his children. A piece of glass entered his throat and ripped through his windpipe. After struggling for breath that didn’t come, he died.
The plane tipped to the side. The propellers on the remaining wing churned up the ground, spraying soil and stones into the air that clattered on the fuselage before they bent. The plane shot over the edge of a slope and entered the forest. A tree ripped the remaining wing off, spraying a second burst of burning flames over the surrounding trees and ground. The tail section broke away and slid along the ground until a tree brought it to a halt.
Crunching and screeching of metal rang out when the plane struck the ground, shooting up a plume of earth and debris. Its collision with trees that scraped down the sides peeled back sections of the fuselage, which were ripped away when it dived down a hill. Parts of its structure and objects from inside the plane shot out in all directions. The wing and tailless fuselage slewed to the side until a large oak brought it to a sudden stop, crumpling the damaged nose further.
The already-weakened straps securing the meteorite snapped, sending it shooting through the plane. Its wooden cage smashed apart when it forced its way through the cockpit doorway. Momentum carried it through the cockpit and out the front of the airplane.
The force of the plane’s abrupt stop ripped apart the fuselage where the wings had broken free, wrapping both sections around the tree it had struck and pushed ahead a ridge of earth and debris until it came to a hesitant standstill. Leaves lifted by the crash and shaken free from the trees, settled as silence returned to the forest.
CHAPTER 9
Aftermath
Having observed the plane crash, Richard concentrated on his imminent landing. Heading for the abandoned planes and helicopter by the runway which he feared he might crash into, he yanked on the control cords. More from luck than design, he veered to the left, lifted his legs to avoid a rotor, and prepared for his touchdown on the strip of weed-infested wild grass growing along the side of the runway.
Lacking any confidence in his human companion to see him to the ground safely, Boris abandoned his ride and rolled when his feet touched the soft grassy ground. Richard’s landing was far less controlled. Remembering from somewhere—probably a war movie he had watched—that he needed to bend his legs when his feet touched the ground, he nevertheless failed the maneuver and collapsed into an ungainly heap. A gust caught the parachute and dragged him onto the runway. He yanked on the release to set the chute free and slid to a halt. Amazed that he had just jumped out of an airplane and survived unhurt, he climbed to his feet and looked to the sky. The SEALs parachutes were nowhere to be seen; they had drifted way off course if they were ever on it. Richard smiled at his good fortune. They would land a long distance away, and there looked to be a valley or two between them and him. He reckoned he had about two, maybe three hours before they arrived. Hopefully, it would give him enough time to do what was needed.
Richard turned to Boris when he arrived beside him and chattered.
“The plan is simple, my hairy rancid-breath companion. We seek out my meteorite, find suitable transport to put it on, and then leave before Colbert and co or the quarantine team arrive and stop me. Because, alien lifeforms or not, I’m not leaving without it.”
Boris groaned and slapped his head.
With Boris following beside him, Richard headed for the exit gate to the right of the abandoned airbase buildings and looked along the track that curved off to the left. He had seen from the air that it took a winding route to the only road leading to or from the town. Not fancying the long circuitous route when a straight line through the trees offered a far shorter journey, he crossed the road and headed into the forest. Boris reluctantly followed.
*****
Focusing below, Colbert looked down at the rough hilly terrain interspersed with forests, ravines, and seemingly, almost every other obstacle nature could throw at them. There was also a possibility they could encounter bears, wolves, and mountain lions. He glanced at where the airplane had gone down. There were a couple of plumes of smoke, but it hadn’t exploded into a fireball that might have destroyed the alien threat as he had hoped. Assuming the worst and that whatever had infested the crew and Kelly had survived, it was imperative they reached the crash site as soon as was physically possible given the terrain. The townsfolk, or at the very least, law enforcement and emergency services that existed in such a small town, would go to the wreck to check for survivors. With no way of contacting anyone and the quarantine team still hours away, it was up to them to stop the spread of the alien organism.
Noticing Sullivan below to his left pointing at something, he gazed at the patch of open, reasonably-level ground and gave him a thumbs-up sign.
The three men expertly steered their parachutes to the landing zone and touched down. After informing Sullivan and Mason they needed to reach the crash site to contain the alien threat as quickly as possible, he led them in the direction of Devil Falls. It would be a long, tough hike, and he could feel blood dripping down his leg; he had ripped open the wound again.
Chapter 10
The Fox
Wary of the strange object, the male fox approached the crash site and glanced around at the airplane settling with creaking groans like a living beast breathing its last. Sniffing the air to pick out the scent of blood and carcass he had followed here, he cautiously padded over to the gap in the fuselage and peered into its gloomy interior filled with the smell of humans. Hunger coaxed him to ignore his usual cautious instinct and carried him inside. He followed the enticing scent to the cockpit and turned his head to the two corpses. Moving to the co-pilot’s arm hanging limply from his slouched to the side body, he sniffed it. Satisfied the human was dead and posed no threat, he jumped onto his lap and started feeding.
Some of the tendrils that had hidden at the animal’s approach slithered silently from behind the fox busy ripping away the co-pilot's clothes to get at the flesh beneath. Sensing danger, the fox turned his head and attacked. The tendrils latched around his snarling snout and clamped shut the teeth that snapped at them. He tried to pull free, but the tendrils wrapped around him and held him securely. His frightened eyes focused on the black creature that broke through the flesh on which he had planned to feast.
The fox struggled, but unable to move, there was no escape. With terror-filled eyes, he watched the strange black creature that reeked of menace. It puffed up, turning its soft hairs rigid. One shot out and entered his left eye. Brief pain was followed by paralyzing calm. He stopped struggling and fell onto his side when the tendrils released him. The empty spine slipped from his eye and dropped to the floor.
A few minutes passed before the fox stirred and climbed to his feet. He jumped down, exited the airplane, and padded into the forest.
Chapter 11
The Meteorite
Richard halted at the edge of the forest where trees met the road and swept his eyes along what he assumed to be the town’s main street. Lining the road were shops, bars, eating houses, and the usual commercial properties dotted with closed, boarded up premises often found in small towns. The klaxon that had started a few minutes ago to call the part-time firemen to action, gradually faded as it wound down.
Richard’s priority was to find his meteorite and then a vehicle; a pickup truck would be ideal. He hadn’t worked out how he was going to lift it onto whatever suitable vehicle he found, but confident he would find a way, he moved along the edge of the forest. He glanced up at
Boris swinging through the trees. He still had to decide what to do about him. When the SEALs discovered he had taken the meteorite, it was a sure bet someone would come after him. The search for a man traveling with a chimpanzee would ensure he wouldn’t get far if Boris remained with him.
Arriving at the far edge of Devil Falls, Richard glanced at the smoldering aircraft wing covered with patches of foam that had extinguished the flames, and the fallen communication mast on the ground nearby, its satellite dishes and aerials crushed and misshapen. The firemen were still on the scene, rolling up hoses and poking metal bars at the wreckage to check the fire was out. Hidden by the trees a short distance away, he heard another group of firemen putting out a second fire.
Richard turned his gaze upon the crowd of onlookers. Some held cellphones they waved at the deputy, ranting about the loss of signal. Someone else was moaning that they would miss their favorite program, Housewives of Orange County, whatever that was.
The crowd suddenly turned their heads along the hardpacked track that joined the end of the road. An old wooden sign, faded and weatherworn, indicated the old copper mine lay in that direction. Breathless from her run, the woman, rather attractive Richard noticed, halted in front of the deputy. She leaned forward and placed her hands on her thighs while she caught her breath. Guessing the crashed plane, or worse, was responsible for her distress, he was keen to hear what she had to say. He looked up at Boris perched on a thick branch. “Wait here,” he ordered softly.
Boris chattered.
“Yes, I’m coming back.” Once he was sure the crowd had focused their attention on the woman, Richard stepped from the trees and dashed across the street. He took up position in the doorway of the boarded-up hairdresser’s behind the crowd and cocked an ear to the breathless woman when she started speaking.
“I think they are dead. Something from the plane attacked them,” she blurted.
Gasps came from the crowd at the news.
“Calm down, Kathryn,” said the deputy. “Who was attacked, and what by?”
“Claire, Greg, and Wayne, that’s who.”
More shocked gasps. Everyone knew everyone in the small town.
“Okay, tell me exactly what happened,” instructed the deputy, taking his report book and pencil out.
The crowd waited with baited breaths to hear the story. There had never been such an exciting day in Devil Falls.
“We were out hunting and after a couple of hours managed to bring down a deer. We were just getting ready to head back when an airplane flew overhead…”
*
On hearing a sound, Kathryn tilted her head to the sky. “Is that an airplane?”
Tying the deer by its legs to a stout branch they had cut from a tree, Wayne and Greg joined Kathryn looking at the patches of blue through the gaps in the tree canopy.
“What’s a damn plane doing way out here?” asked Greg.
Wayne caught a glimpse of it through the trees. “It’s a Hercules.”
“Strange,” uttered Greg. “Maybe they are thinking about reopening the old airbase. Be good for the town if they did.”
“No way,” contested Kathryn. “If that were the case, they would repair the runway and infrastructure first, not send an airplane that might not be able to land.”
“Then what’s it doing?” pressed Greg.
The airplane nosedived.
“Something’s wrong,” stated Wayne.
Greg followed its trajectory. “I think it’s heading for town.”
“Was that an airplane I heard?” called out Claire walking out from behind the tree where she had just gone toilet, her head raised to the sky.
“Yeah, hon, and we think it’s going to crash and might hit the town,” explained Wayne.
“What dumb luck,” exclaimed Claire, “Thousands of miles of unpopulated territory and it crashes in our town.”
“Look! Parachutes!” Kathryn pointed.
Claire gazed at the three distant parachutes. “At least the crew got out.”
“Come on, let’s get back to town,” said Kathryn. “They might need our help if it crashes.”
Greg and Wayne hoisted the pole and deer onto their shoulders and rushed after Kathryn sprinting ahead. Claire followed.
A distant loud crash greeted them at the top of the rise. Kathryn relaxed; the plane had crashed outside of the town. They could see a spiral of black smoke through the foliage, then sounds of crunching metal coming nearer. Through the trees, they spied the fuselage speeding toward them, coming to a crunching halt against a large oak not fifty feet away. Debris, both from nature and manmade, skidded across the ground when something crashed through the cockpit windows, sending glass shards flying through the air like transparent knives that peppered the surrounding trees and ground. Snapping branches and shaking loose leaves, the large rock that had shot from the airplane headed straight for them.
Kathryn and Claire dived to the right. Greg dropped the deer pole and dodging left, stumbled over a rotting branch, and fell to the ground. Panicking, Wayne wasn’t as wise as the others, he turned and ran back down the hill.
The meteorite struck the tall pine growing on the edge of the rise and snapped it like a matchstick, showering the three below with twigs, pinecones, and needles. A plume of earth and leaves exploded into the air when the rock struck the ground, bounced, and sped down the hill.
Wayne glanced behind at the rock following him like the iconic rolling boulder from the first Indiana Jones movie. He tripped, rolled, and eventually ending up in a crouched position on his heels, he slid down the slope on the soles of his boots. He tried grabbing at bushes and trees to swing him from death’s path, but all were just out of reach or too thin, snapped in his hand. His glance ahead picked out the top of the mine workings. He was heading for a forty-foot drop. The increased rumbling of the rock indicated it was gaining on him. He had a few seconds at most. When he was a few feet away from the edge of the drop, he stood, pumped his legs into a superfast sprint, and sprung over the cliff with his arms raised. His fingers wrapped around the overhanging branch and held on tight as momentum swung his legs and body out. The rock passed beneath him, lightly brushing his heels.
Wayne watched its plummeting arc carry it toward one of the mine buildings. Metal screeched and crumpled when it smashed through the corrugated iron roof. The wooden floor cracked and splintered before the unyielding, hard ground beneath brought it to a halt. As the mist of rust particles lifted into the air was carried away by the breeze, Wayne hooked his legs over the branch and shimmied to the trunk before his strength failed him. He dropped to the ground and collapsed as the others arrived, breathless from their rush.
“You alright, baby?” asked Claire kneeling beside him.
“Nothing a kiss wouldn’t cure, honey.”
Claire gave him a friendly thump on the shoulder and stood. “You’re fine.”
“If your husband has finished playing with it, how about we go get a closer look at that rock?” suggested Greg. “Because sure as day turns to night, that wasn’t anything normal.”
“Shouldn’t we go check on the plane?” asked Claire, “Might be someone hurt?”
“No point, the crew bailed out. We saw the parachutes,” reminded Wayne.
“All the same, I think I’d rather head back,” pressed Kathryn.
“Come on, Kath. Five minutes—ten tops is all it’ll take,” coaxed Greg. “You’ve got your phone, so you can take some photos to post on that blog of yours. We’ll have to hurry though before whoever owns it turns up to reclaim it.”
“Yeah, we’ll just nip down, have a look-see, take a few pics, and then head back to town,” assured Wayne.
Kathryn sighed and relented. “Okay, ten minutes, but no more.”
They walked along the top of the cliff and followed the track down to the mine. Crowding into the shack, they all stared at the impressive piece of rock half-buried in the floor, splintered boards poking up around it.
“Wow! It’s
spectacular,” exclaimed Greg.
Claire stroked a hand over it. “I reckon it’s a meteorite.”
Kathryn took out her phone and selected the camera app. “I don’t think it can be anything else.” She took a few photos from different angles and then switched to video mode.
Greg leaned into the rock for a closer look. “To think this came from outer space and might have been traveling for thousands or millions of years across the galaxy before it arrived here on Earth.
Frowning, Claire stepped back. “It is safe, isn’t it?”
Greg shrugged. “Bit late now if it isn’t. If it’s radioactive, as it might well be, space being full of it and all, the damage has already been done.”
Dread crossed Claire’s face.
Wayne shook his head. “He’s jerking yer chain, honey. It was on that army plane. You think they wouldn’t have checked it was safe before loading it on board.”
“Oh, yeah, you’re right. That’s exactly what they would have done.” She thumped Greg on the shoulder. “Idiot!”
“Come on, Claire, let’s get behind it to give it some perspective so Kathryn’s blog and Facebook fans can get a better idea of its size.”
Claire joined her husband behind the rock and posed, pointing at the meteorite as Kathryn filmed it.
“As I assume those who jumped out of the plane will head for town, we had better let them know where they can find their meteorite when we get back,” offered Greg.
“And find out what they are doing here in the first place,” added Wayne.
Looking at her phone screen, Kathryn zoomed in and slowly panned across the top of the meteorite. Movement jerked the camera back. Things, thin and black, appeared from a crack in the surface. “Yuck! Is that a spider?”
The others looked at the rock where the camera was focused and watched something climb out. When the Alpha alien emerged, its body expanded like a sponge when it pulled free of the constricting crack. Resting on top, it looked at the humans.
