Reanimated_Terminal Misery Page 5

  “How about the communication link for our AID’s?”

  “Already online.”

  "You're a lifesaver," the doctor said, clasping his shoulder firmly.

  “Let me get at it then,” Mathew said, walking away a bit taller. He had a slight limp and scratched at the beard he’d failed to trim.

  “How is Mark, Dr. Spencer?” Malica stepped away from a nearby table eying it as if something hid beneath it.

  “I’m growing some tissue from his DNA. I should have enough to fill his thigh and graft to his skin by tomorrow, but he will always have issues with it since all his nerve endings are gone. Those things did a number on him. They consumed nearly six ounces of his flesh in less than twenty-four hours. The doctor saw the sour expression on Malica’s normally calm face. “I think we should be able to seal any suspicious holes throughout the walls or kill any remaining intruders. I mean, a thousand scientists running around with rods would probably scare the white from lab rats, right?” he said, smiling under his dark eyebrows.

  She smiled, nodded and said, “Of course, your right. Did you consider what I said before, about what the reptiles are eating?” Her eyes fell upon a bright light that sprang to life across the farthest cavern.

  “I certainly did,” the doctor said, taking a step in her direction as to keep his voice from anyone nearby. “Their primary victim must be smaller than or as large as they are, possibly another reptile or even a small mammal. What remains to be seen is what preys on them,” he whispered.

  “Precisely. Despite the ice age, creatures did survive, and we are a testament to that.”

  “How could they evolve in such a short period?” the doctor muttered.

  “I think what matters most is that life is sustainable, right?" Malica sighed as she wrapped duct tape around a long shaft.

  “I just hope they’re not all this vicious.”

  *************************************

  Blake and Beverly moved beyond the cavern's intensely bright lamps. The path before them strewn with stones and rocks dislodged from the cavity above by time. Their beams cut the gloom like lasers, as ghostly particles danced and swayed within the beams.

  “Let’s divide up. You take the other side,” Blake said.

  “Are you sure that’s a good Idea?” Beverly said, a bit shaken by the notion of being alone.

  “I asked for a brave volunteer. Am I going to regret my choice?” Blake said smiling, though she didn’t notice.

  “No. I’m simply asking.” She only volunteered to impress Blake, her lover, as well as her colleague. She tried to be assertive ever since they met back on Old Earth, but her reclusive life gave her few social skills to work with. Her studies and experiments kept her confined for years. Sometimes she felt like one of her caged animals. She rarely met new faces, and when she did meet someone new her mind locked up, and only gibberish spilled out. Blake didn’t mind her shyness, but she felt compelled to improve her rusty social skills, which meant she needed to be brave, although she was sure this wasn’t the bravery she had in mind.

  “Okay then. We’ll cover more ground that way. When we turn around, we can make a final sweep. I sure as hell don’t want to miss any slippery bastard,” he said, separating their beams.

  There were endless cracks and crevices along the walls, making the task a daunting one. They first cleared the main caverns. Give some scientists rods, and they didn't fail to poke and prod at everything. They had killed dozens of larger salamanders, but only found one near their sleep area. Dr. Spencer said the salamanders stung and laid their eggs through a stinger on the tail. No doubt existed—they had discovered a new species that adapted to the harsh, cavernous environment. They also managed to catch a fast-moving, hand size spider alive.

  Beverly stabbed with her rod. "Got another salamander," Beverly claimed triumphantly. "Yuk!"

  "Good job. It seems the salamanders cling to the surface and the light blinds them, like a cat facing headlights."

  “You think they see the light as if it were the sun’s rays?” Beverly said as she brushed the rod clean on the dirt.

  “Could be, but I think their eyes are vestigial. They probably use echolocation for feeding in total darkness, or perhaps they have developed an advanced auditory membrane. As for the light, perhaps they sense polarized light, almost like bats," Blake said, noticing a cavity to his side. He shot his light in, and it disappeared. "I have a mini cave to investigate on this side."

  “I’ve got your back.” Beverly crossed to his side.

  The first thing Blake noticed was the change of texture along the ground and walls. “Wow! These walls are smooth and—He stopped talking when his light fell on something shiny. He knelt beside the object and inspected it with his gloved hand. Around him, only Beverly’s refreshing light stirred. “It’s some kind of scale, but it’s long rather than rounded.”

  “Think we need to get some help?”

  “No. They’re not that big,” he said, moving forward again.

  Beverly considered the smaller cave’s mouth, reluctant to step in. “You want me to follow you?”

  “No, your claustrophobia may act up in this narrow passage. Just cover the entrance. It doesn’t seem very deep.” Blake moved beyond Beverly's light. She directed the beam in further and felt anxiety closing in around her. Her mind mischievously warned her that darkness crouched at her back. She swept the blackness behind her with welcoming light, as if to ward off evil spirits.

  Blake sighed with relief when he saw the dead-end, which opened more fully before funneling into a small, sharp crevice. Despite Blake seeming brave around others, these evolved life forms scared Blake to death. The light danced across the smooth surface. He noticed the dark sooty walls and black splotches across the ground, which looked darker and shinier than those along the walls. He decided to enter the broader section and return. There he crouched near one of the stains on the ground and prodded it with his stainless steel rod.

  A snake-like arm shot from the volcanic vile, snatching his rod. Blake pulled back reflectively, reaching for his gun and dropping his lamp. The appendage’s iron grip held the rod in place. Blake’s arm came around, his hand tightly gripping the pistol. He fired. His eardrums rang. The rod came loose, his arms flailing as he came down hard. The lamp lay limp on the ground and as if in some freak stage setup, the beam held the writhing tentacle in a creepy dust cloud.

  Blake heard a sound, a clicking sound, like many chop-sticks tapping together. Something slammed into his shoulder and tugged him off the ground. For a fraction of a second, he thought it was Beverly—until the pain hit him as if thousands of needles had stabbed him all at once. He let out a howl. Something simultaneously clamped his boot. He lost his rod but was able to reach the lamp. His hand closed around it. The beam went wild, as he struggled to free himself, something else jabbed at his other ankle and began to squeeze. He let out a garbled cry. His gun exploded innocently across the ancient walls, while the thing tugging on his shoulder slung him aside. The two creatures that held his legs wrenched him in the opposite direction.

  “Blake!” Beverly rushed in, directing her light to where he was yelling. There she saw it—a handful of lustrous, gray tentacles tugging Blake’s body parts tight. She hesitated upon seeing the sight…“Oh shit! Help!Help!” she cried into her AID forgetting to activate it.

  “Ow!” Blake howled.

  Beverly dropped the pipe. She reached for the pistol, its weight making her aim unsteady. The light wavered around the violent scene, like a gory horror show. She fired, trying to miss Blake. One bullet grazed his thigh. He yelled with renewed anguish. Beverley moved forward aiming and shooting until the pistol's hammer clicked. Then a green glob dropped on Blake's chest with a loud plop. Blake's screams convulsed into gurgles. The thick appendage had long jagged teeth that pierced Blake’s upper torso. His form squirmed in the indirect light. The tooth studded head began to jerk Blake’s body upward, while the snake-like tentacles held him down. Bene
ath him, blood pooled, as the tugging match continued. Beverly continued to pull the trigger, but after a few empty clicks, she backed away, whirled and ran. Her screams tore through the dust-covered caves.

  She shot out into the main cavern still screaming, feeling as if something was behind her. She reached for the clip in her pocket but couldn’t gather the composure to drop the empty clip from the weapon. She barely knew how to use the damn thing in the first place.

  A mob ran at her, their flashlights waving around. The whole thing resembled a MAD concert. Her intense screams loosened wisps of dirt from the ceiling’s cavities.

  Ben reached her first, followed by two armed security officers. She fell into his open arms.

  “It got him! It got him!” She dropped the pistol.

  “What got him, Bev?” he looked into her spooked eyes. “What got him?” Ben asked again, trying to peel her from his chest.

  “Monsters.” She let out a howl. “He’s dead! Oh God, he’s dead!” she repeated, shrinking into Ben’s arms like a child.

  Ben held her at arms-length by the shoulders. “Where, Beverly?”

  She pointed in the opposite direction. “There is…a smaller cave on the left. It came from the ceiling and, the ground," she said, dropping her head and moaning. "He's dead. He's dead," she repeated. Her eyes glazed over, her mind shutting down from the whole experience.

  “Weapons hot,” Sergeant Gonzales said, readying his Z-9 automatic rifle. Six men fell in behind him; their weapons clicked simultaneously. “Fasten lamps.”

  They attached their hand lights beneath their rifles and engaged their lasers.

  Beverly’s cries had diminished to a nervous whimper, which resonated throughout the cavern.

  “If we don’t see anything,” Sergeant Gonzales said, “We'll mount a perimeter with four men, and two others will bring the spotlights. We’ll use the shock drone to wake this thing up.”

  They faced the entrance and noticed something moving in the distance. The team crowded in, surveying every angle.

  Gonzales brought them to a stop and reached for the dark soil. “This is organic—looks like dry, black scales.” He looked ahead. “Blake!” He heard rustling sounds. “Move in.”

  They came upon the site, the scene unfolding before them left everyone speechless. Blake’s remains lay scattered in several places. A closer look revealed bones, torn clothing, and sinew, which large snake-like eels eagerly scuffled over.

  Gonzales looked up and saw a green trunk like mouth, unable to squirm back into its hole while swallowing Blake’s mangled head. “Fay and I will get the ceiling creature,” he said taking a knee. “You guys take out those eels. Target each according to your position.”

  “Roger that,” they barked in unison.

  “Engage.”

  The sputtering rocked the cave, sending clouds of dirt swirling through the air. The eels burst into skipping pieces. The dangling, mutated snakehead lit up by two lasers, each one exploding, leaving a gaping hole. The snake spat Blake's head out and spewed his entrails in the process. Blake's stewed remains splashed onto the cave’s floor along with his misshapen head. Only half the trunk seemed capable of retracting, as bullets ripped through its muscles.

  Armed men and women stood at the ready behind the shooters, their weapons held high, and their mouths were gawking at the sight.

  Ben, Malica, and Dr. Spencer came up as the sputtering ceased. Grit and dust lingered like steam above the carnage.

  Ben pushed past the waiting guards. “What did you see?”

  “Two separate entities, sir. One was smaller, like a dry land eel, many of them. The other looked like a sightless snake, riddled with teeth. Not sure if they were working in conjunction, but they sure messed up the vic,” Gonzales said, not taking his eyes off the gruesome scene.

  “What’s going…” Dr. Spencer’s words faltered by what he witnessed. He turned to Malica and said, “Not sure you want to see this.”

  “Why in heavens not? I’ve lived through two wars and have witnessed unimaginable horrors. What is it?” Her eyes locked on the gory scene. “What in the name…?”

  Ben looked at them. I think it’s a combination of two native creatures and our own Dr. Blake Stanton.

  “I need to go back and gather some gear to get samples,” Dr. Spencer said.

  “I will get a body bag for our colleague,” Malica said.

  Dr. Spencer faced Ben and Malica. “I think it’s time we chance it. Let’s send the strongest team up-top.”

  “I agree emphatically, Spence,” Ben muttered, trying to make sense of what he’d witnessed, especially since the grotesque seen behind him seemed so surreal.

  “Are they still alive?” a guard asked.

  “If we can catch one alive, do so,” the doctor ordered.

  The guard turned to him. “You going in there to do that, Doc?”

  Dr. Spencer swallowed. “If I must.”

  Ben examined the guard. "We are not endangering our head physician."

  “Yes, sir,” the guard said, lowering his gaze.

  “You two go with Dr. Spencer and Dr. Malica and assist them with whatever they need.”

  Gonzales stepped closer to the guard. “Next time you have a question, follow your chain of command. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Sergeant.”

  "Sorry about that, sir," Gonzales said, turning to Ben.

  “That’s fine. Now, let’s secure this area before anyone else sees it.”

  Dr. Spencer moved aside, wondering how he could compete with such leadership.

  Chapter 15

  Deliverance

  Manta, Ecuador, Rosa Mountains

  April 28, 4067

  They gathered a four-man team to ascend from the cavernous enclosure.

  Many cryo-survivors were hysterical at the way Blake had died. Since then, some of the colonists had suffered from panic attacks, plus two chest pain victims. The notion that predators and parasites surrounded them sent the citizens into a frenzy and they demanded action.

  Dr. Ben Greer, Dr. Spencer Dwight, and Dr. Malica Boudra had tried to rally the people to work as a team and work hard, but scientists weren't the healthiest crowd among the human population. Most lived complacent unhealthy lives, preferring vending meals to continue their work, and thinking gyms were for showoff brain-dead jocks. Instead of working hard, they lay in their designated cots complaining about the cold, dreary cavern and how their entire body hurt.

  Outside the camp, a four-man team readied themselves, sipping as much liquid as they could through straws which wound across one shoulder and into a two-quart insulated pouch. The dark liquid shifted within the transparent tube. The concoction would give the men the energy they required to overcome the hardship of climbing thousands of steps in their already anemic state.

  “How do we know the various passages are clear?” Corporal Stevens inquired, speaking through his bottom teeth. Stevens was the youngest in the group.

  “We don’t,” said Sergeant Gonzales. “You volunteered kid. Don’t get skittish on me now.”

  “I’m not,” the corporal snapped defensively.

  “Yea-he-is,” said Private Johnson. “Talked about it last night like he’d goofed up.”

  “I certainly did not. There’s nothing wrong with asking constructive questions.”

  “Don’t let them corner you, Stevens,” Lt. Pierce said. He was a tall man with dark, knowing eyes and a thin mustache.

  “I know he’s just pushing my buttons,” he said, giving Johnson a stern look.

  Johnson smirked.

  “Listen up.” Lt. Pierce turned to them holding up a list. “We're taking a sidearm, a long rod, and a combat knife for protection. Light protective gear, no armor. Our Z-9s and armor will weigh us down." He allowed their moans, wishing he could at least take one of the smart machine guns. "We will have to get there outright. We cannot linger. This is not a sleepover, men. When we stop, we all stop. We're taking the short-range COM's so we'll be
able to communicate with the Robinson Crusoe at every checkpoint. If we find an obstruction, our tablets will have the coordinates for an alternate route. The bottles on our backs are all the nutrition we'll need. Johnson's our medic. He remains center most.”

  Each man began removing extra items from their belts and backs and tossed them into an open duffle bag. Gonzales signaled a soldier to take the extra bag away.

  “Any questions?” The lieutenant said.

  Corporal Stevens’ arm shot up.

  “Man, can’t you take a hint?” Johnson said, with a sigh.

  “Let him speak, Private Johnson,” Sergeant Gonzales said, shaking his head.

  “How about winter gear? I mean, how about if it’s freezing up-top. It's even too cold down here, for a cave that is. You know these caverns are located in Ecuador and kept an even temperature of twenty degrees Celsius. Now it's riding at 5.5 degrees Celsius," the corporal said, darting his eyes to each man.

  “Yes, this we know. It has already been established that if the planet is still cold, then the temperature below ground will vary, but not too much, especially at this depth. It’s not just that, we can't risk any more weight. If one of us falls, the mission will fail. The doctor tells me our organs, especially our hearts, are still weak, and anything can put them in danger," the lieutenant said, as he came to his feet. "If there are no further questions, let's move out. These civilians aren't going to rest until they vacate these infested caves and neither are we.

  “Lt. Pierce,” Ben called out, “a minute please?” He held up a finger.

  The lieutenant had tried to circumvent any bureaucrat's tent, even avoiding any nosy civilians along the way. He sensed their fear, something his men didn't need contact with. "We’re late, Dr. Greer,” Lt. Pierce said, eying the exit hatch, which they nearly made in time.

  “I’ve got something for you,” Ben said, holding out an odd looking pad.