by Ben Hammott
As they left to carry out their much-rehearsed tasks, Lieutenant-Colonel Tom Jennet entered. “I’ve just had a look at the hangers, and both are suitable for the evacuees.”
“I’ll get Charlotte to organize some teams to have the cots, kitchen, and toilets set up in one as soon as the trucks arrive, which will be here within the hour. Did you have a look at the barracks to check they are suitable for use as quarantine areas if it becomes necessary? They looked acceptable on the airbase plans I studied during the flight here, but you can’t beat eyes on the ground, and I trust your judgment over a blueprint, Tom.”
“I did, and they are suitable.”
“Thanks. I know you’re used to calling the shots, so I appreciate you not making it difficult for me as some in your position might have.”
“We are all working toward the same goal. This is a learning experience for us all, and I wish you luck. Who knows, if things turn ugly, it will be my turn to take control, and you’ll be taking orders from me.” He turned and left.
Watching the colonel leave, Blightburn pondered the failsafe scenario he would oversee if the alien threat showed signs of escaping beyond INSECT’s containable cordon. Depending on the threat posed, he could order every living thing within a five-mile radius obliterated. Confident that all their preparations for such an alien event would be enough to eliminate the threat to deem that unnecessary, she went outside to check everything that needed doing was underway.
As soon as the trucks arrived, they could begin in earnest. She glanced at the airplane that had followed them down. It was their mobile laboratory where the alien organism, whatever form it took, would be put under the microscope. Thermite charges placed strategically throughout the aircraft would see anything within vaporized if the need arose.
Seven minutes ahead of schedule, the convey arrived. Led by an army personnel carrier, the five black articulated trucks drove through the gate. They included a mobile quarantine unit, a pharmaceutical specification mobile laboratory for synthesizing any antidotes or weaponized chemicals that might be required to quell an alien threat, a communication center, and three equipment trucks containing everything they needed for the task ahead,
Following the trucks were five more transport trucks filled with soldiers, a low-loader carrying four quadbikes and specialist trailers for each, and a mobile canteen.
Troy, who was in charge of logistics, moved to each vehicle to give the drivers their parking instructions. Under Bennet’s guidance, the communication truck pulled alongside the reception building with a hiss of airbrakes. Immediately, Yuri Granger, INSECT’s technology expert who had designed and outfitted the state-of-the-art communication trailer, began to set it up. A satellite dish raised upright on the roof, telescoped twelve feet into the air and turned until it found a signal. Within three minutes of switching on, Yuri had connected them to the outside world.
Under the command of Colonel Jennet’s officers, soldiers piled out of the transport trucks. While some formed a line of sight defensive ring around the airport perimeter and set up a guard post at the entrance, others set about unloading the equipment from the trucks and carried everything inside to set up quarantine units in one of the barrack huts. Sleeping quarters for the evacuation of Devil Falls population shortly to be instigated if it was deemed necessary, were set up in one of the hangers. Two forklifts lifted out pallets of canvas cots, bedding, blankets, food, water, toilet cubicles, etc.
Still not quite believing she was about to encounter an alien lifeform from another planet and possibly another galaxy, Susan headed for the barracks to double-check it was suitable for the quarantine cubicles about to be set up; a facility she hoped they wouldn’t have to use.
CHAPTER 20
Grizzly
Mason halted at the top of the steep side of the ravine he had just climbed and breathing heavily from the exertion, glanced down at Colbert a short distance below and Sullivan an equal distance below him.
On edge since the wolves attacked, the cracking of twigs, loud in the landscape’s tranquility, turned him around and placed his rifle in his hands ready to fire. His eyes searched the gloomy forest at the far side of the narrow strip of open ground. He cocked an ear for signs of movement. Nothing.
“What’s up?” enquired Colbert noticing Mason on alert when he climbed onto level ground.
“Something in the forest. Thought it might be more wolves.”
Colbert peered into the trees but saw and heard nothing that caused him concern. “Probably just a harmless forest animal, but we’ll stay alert just in…” movement amongst the trees silenced him. A flash of brown by some bushes put him on alert. He raised his rifle when something started moving.
Mason also focused on the thumping footfalls and the bushes trampled by whatever rushed through them. “Whatever it is, it’s big.”
“Could be a bear,” suggested Colbert.
With the position of the oncoming beast made evident by the swaying foliage, Mason asked, “Do we shoot it now or wait for it to appear? If it’s a bear and it’s infected, I don’t fancy a close-quarters fight.”
“No, wait until we can see it,” ordered Colbert. “Better we see what we are shooting rather than to risk just wounding it.”
The grizzly bounded from the bushes at an incredible speed and headed straight for them. Colbert and Mason each fired a short burst. Their bullets struck the bear, ripping through its skin, but it scarcely acknowledged the projectiles hitting it. Letting out an angry rumbling growl, it continued its attack, each lumbering step bringing it closer.
A second burst of firepower concentrated on its head and chest, stripped the flesh from its thick skull, and peppered its chest. Blood poured from various wounds, but still it came. Almost upon them, Colbert changed tactic and strafed bullets at its legs to bring it down. Shattered bones splintered and cracked, and its front legs buckled beneath it, sending the bear in a tumble. Mason and Colbert dodged out of its path.
When gunfire erupted from above, Sullivan ignored his tired protesting limbs and increased his efforts. Finally reaching the top, he poked his head above the cliff only to be confronted by a brown mass of rolling fur and teeth. He ducked down, almost losing his footing when the grizzly rolled over the edge.
The bear lashed out a claw at Sullivan and ripped gashes through his pants leg. Having spotted Sullivan, Colbert moved to the cliff and held out a hand to help him up.
“You okay?” asked Mason when he noticed the claw ripped pants leg.
Sullivan parted the shredded clothing and saw three faint red marks. “Luckily, nothing worse than a few scratches.”
They stood at the edge of the cliff and looked down. The bear was at the bottom, motionless with blood pooling around it.
“I can’t believe it managed to keep moving with all the bullets we pumped into it,” commented Mason. “We must have hit at least one vital organ.”
Colbert pointed at the bear. “Look!”
They all focused on the small alien that emerged from the bear and scampered along the ravine.
“Maybe the infection or whatever it is, somehow increases its tolerance to pain?” offered Colbert.
“What’s with all the wildlife attacking us?” asked Mason. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were out to get us.”
“I’m hoping the two attacks are a coincidence, a wrong place wrong time scenario,” said Colbert, turning to scrutinize the forest. “As the alternative would indicate that the alien creatures are intelligent enough to have an agenda and see us as a threat, which I’m not sure they’ll ever stop trying to extinguish.”
“Whatever the reasons for the attacks, there’s no way I’m climbing all the way back down there to cover that great lump in rocks, and then climb back up again,” declared Sullivan.
They directed their gazes to the sky at the sound of an approaching airplane and glimpsed two flying their way.
“C-130s,” said Mason.
“Must be the quarantine te
am.” Colbert watched the large aircrafts circle toward the town. “They have arrived earlier than expected. It’s the first bit of good news we’ve had for a while.”
“With the infection spreading so far from town, we don’t have the luxury of time to cover the bear,” said Colbert. “It’s imperative we inform someone as quickly as possible before it gets out of hand.”
“If that hasn’t already happened,” uttered Mason.
They headed in the direction of Devil Falls.
CHAPTER 21
Captured
With Devil Falls receding in the rear-view mirror, Richard sped along the road. He’d done it. He glanced behind briefly at the meteorite before returning his eyes to the front. It might prove problematic getting it back to England, but after what he had been through lately, he was confident he could find a solution. He would FedEx it if he had to.
Spying something through the trees when he approached a sharp bend in the road, Richard slowed at the sight of the army trucks. They would be around the corner in a few seconds. Unwilling to risk being stopped and detained, he searched the forest either side of the road for a place he could pull into, but there was nothing. Focusing his gaze ahead, he picked out a track on the left. The pickup lurched forward when he slammed the gas pedal to the floor. Too fast for safety, he turned the wheel precariously as the front of the lead truck appeared around the bend. Jolted and shaken by the roughness of the ground that he sped along too fast, Richard held his foot on the gas. Undoubtedly the soldiers had orders to prevent anyone from leaving town. He just needed to get around the bend he had spotted ahead before the soldiers drove by the end of the track and noticed him. Plumes of muddy water sprayed out from the wheels powering through the puddles littering the uneven surface. Boris screeched in protest at Richard’s dangerous driving and slipped on his seatbelt.
Hitting a patch of muddy ground when he turned the curve, the truck slewed to the side. He steered the wheels out of the slide and shot down a slope. At the sight of the old bridge at the bottom fallen to disrepair, now little more than two metal rails spanning the river flowing beneath, Richard pumped the breaks softly in an attempt to slow the vehicle without it skidding.
Realizing he wasn’t going to stop in time, Richard lined the wheels up with the two iron girders. When the truck was only a few feet from the bridge, he noticed an overgrown track leading down to the river beside it. He spun the wheel. The back skidded sideways, almost taking one wheel over the edge before it straightened out and sped down the gentle slope to the river. Grass, bushes, and wild plants scraped the undercarriage and paintwork. The crane broke branches that it crashed into, dislodging twigs and leaves that showered the vehicle. Jolting when it splashed into the shallow river that rose halfway up the wheels, Richard hit the brakes. The truck slid a few feet before coming to a halt. He wound down the window and stared up the track. The distant roar of powerful diesel engines from the road showed no signs of slowing. They hadn’t spotted him. He would wait a few minutes before heading back up.
“Hello, Richard.”
Richard turned to the voice and sighed. Colbert and co stepped out from the forest and walked along the bank with their weapons held menacingly.
Colbert stopped at his window.
Richard smiled. “You made it then?”
“What are you doing, Richard?” asked Colbert.
“Coming to look for you, actually. Thought you might need a lift.”
“Probably fleeing from more people he’s pissed off,” commented Mason, moving to the rear of the truck. “He’s only got the meteorite back here.”
Colbert’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “You don’t hang about, do you?”
Richard shrugged. “Didn’t know how long I had.”
“And after what came out from it, you were still going to take it to a populated area?”
“It’s mine, I can do what I damn well please with it,” argued Richard.
“Not if there’s a risk it can infect others like it did the pilots and Kelly, you can’t,” corrected Sullivan.
“You seriously think I’m that stupid and would risk becoming infected? I’ve sterilized it. Poured gunpowder into the crack that they came out of and lit it. There’s nothing alive in it anymore.”
“There’s black around the crack,” confirmed Mason peering at the top of the rock.
“That’s as maybe, but there could still be organisms or something in or on it somewhere. It needs checking out by someone more qualified than you.”
Richard scoffed. “Where aliens are concerned, there is no one more qualified than me.”
Colbert glared at Richard. “You know exactly what I mean.” He walked over to the track Richard had driven down and spoke with Mason.
Richard watched them conversing in the wing mirror and then looked at Sullivan standing at the river’s edge in front of the truck. The engine was still running. He could slam on the gas, knock him out the way and drive like hell, hoping another track crossing the river would provide him with a route back to the road.
Sullivan noticed Richard was deep in thought, contemplating mischief; it wasn’t hard to guess his thinking. “Go on, try it.”
Richard looked at the barrel of the weapon pointed at him. The wheels would probably spin on the slippery rocks covering the riverbed. He lifted his hovering foot away from the gas pedal and waited to see what would happen next.
Colbert and Mason crossed to the truck.
Colbert opened the driver's side door. “Scoot over, Richard; I’m driving.”
Richard maneuvered past Boris and sat next to the passenger door.
Mason climbed onto the back while Sullivan directed Colbert as he turned the truck. After he had lined the pickup up with the track, Sullivan climbed in next to Mason, and Colbert drove back to the road.
Having no option other than to do as ordered for the moment, Richard waited to see how things played out.
CHAPTER 22
Hook, Line, and Sinker.
Unaware the low flying plane he had spotted earlier had crashed, and aware his enthusiastic deputy would handle any situation linked to its unexpected arrival, Sheriff Lansdale had swiftly wiped the incident from his mind to concentrate on the more pleasurable activity of fishing. In a few months, he would be up for retirement, and for him, it couldn’t come a day too soon. His bones and muscles rebelled at any strenuous activity, and his feet were just as complaining.
He glanced at his line in the river: he hadn’t had a bite all day, not that that was a particular concern of his, the relaxation that came hand in hand with fishing held more appeal. He leaned back in his reclining canvas chair, grabbed a chilled beer from the cold box beside him, and took a decent swig. Placing the bottle in the drink rest on the chair arm, he took out his pipe and lit it. As he let out a long plume of pungent smoke, he reached for his book, Hell Ship – The Flying Dutchman, and continued reading.
Two chapters later, a splash turned his gaze to something in the water. A brown trout swam in a tight circle and then stopped with its head poking above the water. Surprisingly, it was looking straight at him.
Lansdale removed the pipe from his lips and smiled at the fish. “Howdy fella. Now, if you’d be a good sport and clamp your mouth around the tasty morsel on the end of my line, I’d be mighty appreciative.”
The fish disappeared beneath the water.
Staring at the ripples spreading out from where the fish had submerged, Lansdale took another puff of his pipe. He coughed in surprised when something shot from the water and landed at his feet. Astounded by the event, he leaned forward and stared at the trout that surprisingly didn’t flounder about as a landed fish should, but lay still, its beady eye looking up at him.
“Now that is mighty accommodating of you fella, to jump out like that.” Lansdale placed his pipe and book on top of the cool box and picked up the fish. It was a decent size and would cook up nicely for his dinner later.
Lansdale groaned when he climbed from the ch
air, his back was giving him gyp again and remained still for a moment to let the spasm past.
Worms slithered over the trout’s rows of sharp teeth, out of its eyes and gills, and up along its new host’s hand. They gained entry into the sheriff’s body through a small cut in his skin pierced by the hook he had bated earlier in the day. They entered his bloodstream and spread out.
After a brief jolt of agonizing pain that wracked his body, Lansdale became calm. As he slumped back into the chair, the trout slipped from his fingers and flopped to the ground.
CHAPTER 23
The Living Dead
One of the rocks covering the two wolves that had died close together rolled off the pile. Tentacles appeared from between the stones and latched onto the rocky ground. The rock pile tumbled apart as the tendrils dragged the body of the wolf free of the stack and pulled it along.
Tendrils stretched out from the corpse of the second wolf and also began dragging it. A short distance away, two strewn piles of loose rocks identified the absence of the bodies they had once covered.
The tendril protruding from the top of the lead wolf’s head turned to the cliff across the river and aimed its tip at the two wolf carcasses currently being hauled up the side. The tendril-controlled wolf entered the river with the other following its lead.
Although harassed by the current that threatened to sweep the carcasses downstream, the tendrils were strong enough to combat it and pulled their hosts along the riverbed and up onto the cliff at the far side. With a multitude of tendrils working in unison from each corpse, they climbed the cliff.
When the first of the four tendril-controlled wolves reached the top of the cliff, the tendrils stretched into the air as if searching for something. When their turning tips stopped with them all facing in the same way, they resumed their transportation of the corpse in the direction of the Alpha’s secreted scent they had all detected.
