Reanimated_Terminal Misery Page 6

“What is it?” Sergeant Gonzales asked.

  "I've had the techs working on this. There may be some glitches since they rushed it," Ben said, stopping before the lieutenant. He pressed a button on the box. It came alive, and a man stared back at him."

  “My snoop-cam’s working well, Ben?” the man in the box said.

  “Yes, Mathew—sounds good, too,” Ben said, directing the screen towards the lieutenant.

  “Lt. Pierce, I’m Mathew. I’ll be monitoring your progress. If you have a medical emergency beyond a scratch, you’ll have a doctor at your disposal. The constant use charge is more than ample, so feel free to run the unit at all times. We can hear and see what you can if you keep it on,” Mathew said.

  “How about if we say off-color words? Rangers can teach sailors a thing or two about swearing,” Sergeant Gonzales said.

  “I, and I alone will hear it. I'm with you for the duration. I'll mute it if anyone's around, so feel free to swear all you like, Sergeant," Mathew said winking. "This beats the short-range COMs any day. Those only emit a Morse code beep when they encounter barriers. The snoop-cam shoots a high-intensity ultra-thin signal via blue tooth and can penetrate pretty much anything."

  “At least we’ll know you guys are okay, Lieutenant,” Ben added.

  “Thanks,” the lieutenant said, strapping the snoop-cam onto Gonzales’s vest. “We’re hoping it will be a smooth ride, but what if we encounter something you don’t want civilians to see?”

  “We will see it before anyone else, so record anyway,” Ben replied, extending his hand.

  “Are you sure about the mission name? Apollo? I mean, things didn't exactly go smoothly for all the Apollo missions, you know?" Lt. Pierce said, slightly cocking his head.

  “Apollo means hope, and we need all the hope we can get,” Greer said, sighing deeply. “These people are in need of some good news, Lieutenant. Morale is everything at a time like this. I don’t want to add to the pressure the mission already entails, but we’re all depending on you.”

  The lieutenant sniffed, then smirked. “Yeah, no pressure.”

  They shook hands, and the four men started toward the exit.

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

  The stairs were precarious and in some places fragile. Some crumbled under their boots as if made of sand. Thus far, only once had they stopped to remove debris from their path. No one dared shoot their lamp upward, fearing what it would reveal. They’d rested twice, feeling winded, shaky, and tired. None commented on how quickly they fatigued. On a mission, negativity was the enemy.

  The team had sporadically seen things squirm from the light, but they were fast and small. Gonzales made everyone join gloves to sleeve and boots to pant leg, using duct tape. ‘Reach into your pockets with your gloves on. Sneaky bastard salamanders could be anywhere, understood?’ Gonzales had said. They had responded with a confident, ‘Hooah!’

  In some places, the brittle path nearly disappeared, and in others, they had to hug the dreaded walls to avoid collapsed portions, not to mention the bar-like joining of stalactites and stalagmites.

  "Whoa, shit!" Sergeant Gonzales gasped.

  “You okay up there?” Lt. Pierce asked.

  “Spiderweb... Sticky stuff,” Gonzales’ss tone hardened when he realized he’d cried out.

  “Bugs scare you, Sarge?” Corporal Stevens chuckled.

  “Want to come up front and take point?”

  “Nah, Sarge. You’re the ex-Ranger scout. I’m just a weekend worrier,” Corporal Stevens said.

  “And don’t you forget it, culito,” Gonzales shot back.

  “How many steps have we completed, Sir?” Johnson said.

  “Eight hundred, give or take, but that doesn’t mean a damn thing. According to the digital map, there are more than six-thousand steps spiraling all over the place, and let's hope they're all clear because every deviation adds to our step count. This rout's the shortest. This is the largest gold mine in the world, and it has more than a hundred passages," Lt. Pierce said.

  “Why didn’t they make spiral steps for the project?” Stevens said.

  “Time, and the fact that the powers that be preferred the locals didn't flock to the site when they witnessed tons of steel brought to the mountaintop. They tried to keep the operation small and clandestine," Gonzales replied.

  “We’ve passed a few links already, which means an obstruction will force us to back-track,” Corporal Stevens added, the notion making him inhale raggedly.

  “Well, those folks down there are praying we’ll make it, so—” Private Johnson was cut short.

  “Shh!” Sergeant Gonzales shushed them, freezing in mid-step with a fisted hand held up. “Hear that?”

  Their flashlights flared in all directions. They drew their pistols.

  “I hear it, what—”

  “Shh!” Sergeant Gonzales repeated.

  There was a thrumming sound, like a vibration in the air, the noise grew louder by the moment.

  “There!” Corporal Stevens shrieked, opening fire to his rear.

  The others opened up on what flew at them. The needle-like teeth were upon them in an instant, clicking like swarming bush crickets, so many wings beating in unison that it drowned out their cries.

  “Move!" Each man pushed the other ahead, batting and tearing the creatures off their bodies. The animals clung to them like tiny black cats. The swarm kept coming, despite the deafening gunfire.

  “There!” Gonzales risked backing into a crevice in the wall, holstering his weapon and replacing it with a reinforced steel rod he’d slipped between his canteen and belt. He hacked at the creatures clinging to his vest and then began slapping the creatures in midair while targeting the intruding vermin with his light. "Use your rods, people!”

  The others did so, and the creatures began to diminish. The fur covered birds fell away by the dozens. Bleeding pinpricks covered each man's face.

  “What the hell are they?” Lt. Pierce screamed above the cacophony, cutting a winged creature nearly in half.

  “Look like damn bat-birds. Lil’ shits bit me all over!” Johnson complained as he slapped two in midair with one strike, and clubbed another one that clung to his forearm.

  Each man cleared their flank, failing to notice Corporal Stevens’ absence.

  “Where’s the kid?” Lt. Pierce said, keeping his eyes on the fleeing bird-bats. “Switch to black-out lights. Our lights must have attracted them. Keep alert!”

  Their bloody lights scarcely lit the path they'd come from. It made the blood on their faces seem like streaks of smeared tar. Expecting another attack, they ran with their makeshift clubs held high. A sour smell lingered in the air, like overripe peppers, a steamy rancid odor that made their nostrils burn.

  "Ah, shit!" Sergeant Gonzales breathed, leaping ahead. The bat-bird-like creatures blanketed the ground, undulating in fits. Gonzales saw the black boots thrashing under the flock. He swung his bar just above the flying critters, taking out a swarm of them, and then swept some away with his boot. The creatures burst away from their feast. The lieutenant and Johnson joined in, being careful not to hit each other during the melee. The vermin tore aside in a frenzy of beating wings and chattering teeth. Black droplets sprayed at them as the creatures retreated.

  The three men carried Corporal Stevens closer to the wall, their breathing ragged and in quick, short spurts, their rods held out as if daring the bat-birds to return.

  “Dear God!” Johnson said.

  The corporal's face looked skeletal. His mouth moved as if to speak, his jaw pulling at the shriveled skin along his pronounced cheekbones. Freckles of tiny, black bites marred his His.

  Their hands came away soaked with black ink.

  Sergeant Gonzales, fearing it was the boy’s blood, switched his blue light on, only to discover the young man’s protein pouch leaking from hundreds of tiny punctures.

  “Take his pack off,” the lieutenant ordered.

  The pack's dark elixir oozed like o
il leaking from a cooking strainer as if someone had gone at it with a needle.

  “Apollo, what’s your situation?” Dr. Spencer said, trying to keep his voice steady.

  “Robinson, are you seeing this?” Lt. Pierce said.

  “Only a blur. Everything moved too fast for the night vision receptors,” Dr. Spencer said, urgency in his tone. “We saw the bird-like creatures only in glimpses. Is anyone hurt?”

  “We all got bit, but Stevens got it worse. They came in his direction first. He’s in bad shape, Doc,” the lieutenant said, holding the small box towards Corporal Stevens’ limp form.

  “I need to see a creature up close,” the doctor said.

  Johnson picked one up, noticing the bat-like ears and missing eyes. It had long, thin, black feathers.

  “Closer. Open its mouth so I can see its teeth. Shove those fangs forward with your knife.”

  Johnson did.

  “Those are siphoning tubes. Those are normally found only on insects. He's lost a lot of blood. I left you a medkit with a blood booster. Johnson, apply a drip.”

  While Johnson sprang to action, Lt. Pierce addressed the doctor. “How far behind will this put us?”

  “I’m afraid there’s no place for downtime. Can you and Sergeant Gonzales carry on, and leave Johnson to look after the corporal?”

  “Roger. We can and should move on. We’re already running low on juice. Thankfully, our pouches weren’t punctured,” Lt. Pierce said.

  “Take Johnson's supplement pack. It will come in handy. He won’t need it. The new team should be up there soon.

  "Are you sticking with the red light?" Mathew said, leaning over the doctor.

  “Negative. The light’s poor and we may step in deeper shit than vampire birds,” Lt. Pierce said, his face drawn and ghostly in the dim crimson light.

  “We’re sending up a three-man armed team to escort your men back. They’ll be leaving yesterday. Can Johnson fend off the bird-bats if they decide to return?”

  "I believe so. Shooting was a bad idea. The birds were easily swatted from the air because they hover," the lieutenant said.

  “How the hell can those things live down here, Doc?” Gonzales asked, leaning into the camera.

  “I think what’s of primary concern is to watch out for larger life forms?” Dr. Spencer said, the close-up, exaggerating his nose and mouth.

  “I see your point. We’ll be doubly alert,” Lt. Pierce said.

  “I’ll stay close in case you need me.”

  “Thanks. Pierce out.”

  “Think you can handle being out here alone tending to the kid, Private?” Pierce asked, unable to sweep the concern from his eyes.

  Johnson handed Gonzales the plasma bag and began securing the butterfly needle to Stevens’ arm. He looked up at the lieutenant. I can take care of the kid, sir. I’ll be ready for those black things. Give‘em some payback.”

  Gonzales handed Johnson Corporal Stevens’ metal rod. “I think you best leave both red lamps on at all times and watch out for scurrying things, as well as flying ones.”

  “Roger that, Sarge.”

  “We’ll keep a channel open in case you need us,” Lt. Pierce said, placing his hand on the privet’s shoulder.

  “Naw, sir. The people down there are more important than us two. We’ll wait for the extraction team.”

  "You're a good soldier, Johnson," Pierce said, nodding.

  “Yeah, who knows? In ten years you might make corporal.” Sergeant Gonzales laughed and smacked him on the back.

  “Bet I’ll make it before you make staff sergeant.” Johnson smiled back.

  “I’ll take that bet,” Gonzales said.

  “Let’s move out, Sergeant,” the lieutenant said, stepping aside to let Gonzales do his job as scout.

  “See you two soon,” Gonzales said, but his eyes betrayed his conviction. In this place anything can happen, he thought, feeling helpless at protecting his men.

  Chapter 16

  Psyche

  Manta, Ecuador, Rosa Mountains

  April 28, 4067

  Dr. Spencer relinquished his seat to Malica.

  "You look worried. Mathew told me what happened. Why didn't you call me?"

  ,"I had no time, having to make a decision like that is never easy, but there was no other way. I hoped you and Ben would understand," Dr. Spencer said, noticing how she'd started to look healthier compared to the first time he'd seen her following their awakening.

  “How are our boys?”

  “We're down to two. I chose a four-man team to bring Johnson and Stevens down. I originally told them I'd send a three-man team, but we need a backup team in case Pierce and Gonzales encounter problems, so I sent two men to help Johnson and Stevens come down and two men to follow the lead team. They were the next healthiest and capable teams on our list.”

  “A very good move. How do you think Ben will take this decision?”

  “When any one person is on watch, they are in charge; there’s no time to wait for a committee with such short notice.”

  “I agree. I will inform Ben so you can stay close to the snoop-cam.”

  Dr. Spencer nodded. He appreciated the woman's cooperation. She scarcely argued away his decisions. Ben's she questioned at every turn as if sensing guile in them as he did.

  ***************************

  Malica found herself scanning the rugged, pebbly ground as she made her way back to the command center. She’d begun to feel a despair which dwarfed the one she’d felt as a little girl during a war-torn Belgrade when communist insurgents fought the democratic forces. Smart weapons didn’t spare civilians; they caused just as many casualties as conventional ones. Plus machines made little distinction between soldiers and civilians. She’d lost her Mother and Father during that tumultuous period. A stray bullet found her mother while preparing dinner. Her father fell ill to a pathogen aimed at their enemy. He died alone in a field hospital. His remains burned before Malica had a chance to say goodbye. Her uncle assumed her care, encouraging her to attend college. Her desire to major in psychology baffled her uncle. She failed to tell him the truth because he was taken from her prematurely as well.

  She wanted to fix the world from within the mind itself. She published a comprehensive guide aimed at guiding the human spirit. She lectured frequently and was well known and respected, but after ten long years, she concluded that people had to find their way on their own. Changing minds was like breaking the laws of physics. People had to choose for themselves, but she continued to spread her ideas on the matter relentlessly, giving people more options to make the change from mind to spirit.

  Malica found Ben and approached. She briefly revealed what happened.

  “I thought we were going to make decisions together?” Ben Greer said irritably, coming up behind her.

  She turned to face him. “We are, but there was no time. Dr. Spencer made the call. He sent four men, two to accompany Johnson and Stevens back and two to continue as a backup te—” Malica pursed her lips to one side when Ben silenced her with a rude gesture.

  “You mean he already sent the teams?” Ben shot back with flaring nostrils.

  "Yes. It had to be done, considering the new threats. You sent men to find a way out. I don't recall you communicating that. Not to mention, you've organized security and military in your way as well, without consulting with anyone. And don’t you raise your voice at me as if you were speaking to a subordinate. Oh, and Corporal Stevens is stable, just in case you were interested.” She saw his eyebrows slowly soften.

  Ben looked aside as if realizing his reaction too late. "Fair enough. I suppose I had that coming. Of course, I care what happens to our men. Spencer's a capable leader. I’m grateful you informed me.”

  Malica realized she'd lost her temper and eased it back. She sighed. "Listen, we are not competing here, Ben. Those men are facing beyond unusual circumstances. Spencer sent the men with this understanding. The people are starting to get very impatient, and I do
not have to tell you what will happen if they decide to start questioning our leadership. They may be mostly scientists, but they are still people, and irrational people in groups are dangerous."

  Ben Greer considered her for a minute. His chest dropped a bit and he breathed in harshly. “You’re right, but from now on we need to COM each other so we can converge as one.”

  “I agree. I will have the techs provide us with our own personal comlinks. The AIDs are not secure enough.”

  “Very well,” Ben said, combing by her faster than he had intended. We are out of our league here—me a physicist, Dr. Spencer a Surgeon, and Dr. Malica a shrink, he thought in frustration.

  The gesture was a sign of insincerity, which rendered his apology moot. Adolfo, her psychologist fiancé, had taught her a lot about personality types. Ben’s was easy to read. He would feign how much he cared, all the while seizing the power he craved. She knew he’d been in a scandal and was trying to regain his self-worth by overachieving at any cost.

  Adolfo hadn't made it to the airport in time. A choke threatened to make her sob, as her mind replayed their last conversation. He said he'd been stranded in a blizzard--then the line went dead. I didn’t get to tell him how much I loved him, Malica thought.

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

  “Sammis, Mirra, what do you think?" Dr. Spencer said, considering the botanist and ecologist's faces. He hoped their conclusion would be similar to his, but he needed to hear it from real experts.

  "It's hard to tell without more data. I have analyzed the specimens we found in the caverns and it all points to evolution, but none we can accept at this time. The process of this scientific theory takes very a long time. The salamanders, the spider, the eels, and the enormous snake should have taken millions of years to adapt to this harsh environment and not merely two thousand years or less," Mirra said, her cat-like eyes still pensive as she brushed red curls away from her face, shaking her head slowly.

  "I agree. This whole thing is an enigma, a scientific impossibility. There is no precedence for such an advanced evolution,” Sammis said, his eyes and gesticulations as serious as their dilemma.