by Greg Ballan
Erik looked over what had once been a Pendelcorp base of operations. There was nothing left except a burning crater. The missiles used in the attack were devastating in their efficiency. Everything was wiped out, not even a shred of incriminating evidence remained.
They all walked cautiously back into the desolate campground. Nothing but scorched earth and charred, burning wood remained. Everything for over 100 yards had been blasted into a crater, with the exception of a small six-foot circle of land where Erik had used his shield to protect himself and the children.
"Why, Mr. Knight?" one of the children asked.
Erik looked down at the young boy, his pupiless blue eyes blazing. To hide the evidence. Wipe out all the loose ends.
Erik's staff resumed its standard shape, and he willed the weapon to reduce its size further. He placed the weapon back in its satchel. "Thank You," he whispered to the staff in the harsh Esper tongue, not knowing if it understood or was capable of understanding what those words of gratitude meant.
As he secured the weapon in place, it purred, almost with affection. Erik glanced down at it then began guiding the children on the long walk out of the woods. He led the group to where Lisa Reynolds was laying and gently picked up the girl.
We've got a good hike in front of us. Let's all stay together. He started to escort them down the mountainside.
Erik paused. He heard the sound of rotor blades. Another helicopter was coming, the pitch of the engine was different and he knew immediately that it was not the same ship that had attacked him before. He and the children watched carefully, safely concealed behind some giant tree falls. The third Bell Striker touched down in the middle of the burned-out crater. Three soldiers disembarked and began surveying the destruction. Erik knew what had to be done. The helicopter could take the children down the mountain in scant minutes, where it would take him until early the next morning walking. Lisa Reynolds needed immediate medical attention and the soldiers could provide it.
Children, go to them. They'll get you to safety quicker than I can. Tell them Lisa is back here. I'll stay with her until they come over.
Three of the children broke from their cover and ran for the helicopter, shouting and waving their hands. Erik felt a huge burden lifted from him as the soldiers spotted the three children and quickly ushered them into the helicopter. Two of the soldiers turned and headed to where Erik and his daughter were hidden.
I have to go now, Baby. You'll be safer with them.
"No, Daddy!" she pleaded through tear-stained eyes. "I wanna stay here, with you."
You can't, I have to face those creatures, Bri. I have to stop them. I can't put you in that kind of danger. He pointed to the still sleeping body of Lisa Reynolds. She needs you right now.
Brianna looked up at her father, her little eyes still streaming with tears, and nodded.
Erik looked down at her and smiled. You'll always be my princess. He removed the dog tags from around his neck, and gently placed them on his daughter. You were holding these for me before, please keep them safe.
The footsteps of the soldiers were audible now, and Brianna turned toward the sound. When she turned back, her father was gone.
Erik watched from the top of a large red oak as the soldiers carried his daughter and Lisa Reynolds into the helicopter. He focused his vision on his daughter. He could see her looking into the forest, her fist clenching the dog tags. He saw her bid him a final goodbye as she was carried into the helicopter and the door closed behind her.
The Striker's rotors spun quickly, and the ship slowly eased from the ground, carrying its precious cargo to the safety of home. He knew what his next move had to be. Somewhere out in this expanse of woodlands, two creatures loomed.
He recalled the general direction of the earlier disturbance. He walked deeper into the woodlands. Erik leapt twenty feet up into an adjacent oak tree and perched upon a massive limb. He quickly spotted another tree limb some several yards away and leapt to that one.
Covering several yards with each leap, the Hybrid moved through the wooded canopy, hunting for a trace or sign of the two creatures that nearly killed him earlier. He vowed to himself that their next meeting would be different. The next time they met, only he would live to walk away. That was how it had to be, the very fate of humanity depended on the outcome of his private duel.
* * *
The cheers erupted like wildfire when word reached the command post that the children, including a child assumed to have been kidnapped earlier, had been recovered.
The major puffed away on a cigar, leaning back in his chair. He ordered a recall of all their men out of the Hopedale parklands. He was reading a report concerning the fate of the helicopter that had downed two of his ships. Something very big was going on up there, big enough for someone to risk blowing a 400-foot crater on the top of Hopedale Mountain to destroy any lingering evidence, then destroy a multimillion-dollar weapons platform to keep the pilot quiet. Ross knew there would be an extensive investigation as to what actually occurred, but he knew this would eventually be filed as an unsolved mystery.
The major found it difficult to believe the children could just wander out of the woods waiting to be rescued. There were definitely missing pieces of information. They would need to debrief each child, away from any other authorities, to find out what really went on up there. Ross figured within the hour he'd have all the information he needed.
He was thankful the children were safe, yet that didn't help their secondary mission objective: Destroy the creatures that inhabited the mountain. This piece of their mission objective was, thus far, an abject failure. Major Ross was a man who didn't take to failure.
Chapter 16
Hopedale Mountain, 6:30 p.m.
The small fires burned themselves out, and the dust and ashes finally settled around the top of Hopedale Mountain. The damage caused by the missile and rocket barrage was devastating. There was no trace that a campsite ever existed, and the ridgeline over the tunnel sagged slightly, indicating the tunnel had completely collapsed upon itself due to the devastating impact of the Typhoon missile.
An inky blotch appeared in the middle of the newly formed crater, and two creatures emerged from the spilling darkness. They took several small steps as the portal closed behind them. Each creature looked around, trying to understand what happened to the forest that was there only hours ago. The smell of soldiers was still evident in the soil, as was the smell of the children they had abducted. Both creatures made their way ominously toward the tunnel entrance.
They stopped, looking at the devastation where their tunnel once stood. The large cat-like creature sniffed the fallen dirt and debris, and began pawing at the rock and soil that now occupied the tunnel space. The cat began tunneling deeper into the collapsed tunnel, only to have its work filled in by a small cave-in. The creature shook itself free of the fallen debris and howled with frustration as it pawed its way out of the freshly fallen rock and earth.
They had lost access to their home, and the Seelak lost its eggs, eggs that would eventually fully crystallize if not attended. The Seelak was enraged. Somehow the primates were able to remove the cavern cover and free the small things.
It returned to the spot where it first picked up the scent of the soldiers. It sampled the air. There was something else, something it hadn't smelled for thousands of years. It moved to a small patch of unscorched earth, lying in the middle of all the destruction like a desert oasis. It inhaled the air molecules over this area, and knew immediately that its ancient enemy had returned. It knew the smell of Esper, but this Esper contained an all too familiar accompanying scent as well: The Hybrid. The Hybrid was still alive. Somehow, it survived the brutal thrashing they had given him. Not only was the Hybrid alive, but it had undergone a change. The smell of Esper dominated its spoor, no longer a trace scent in the background.
The felinoid smelled the same patch and growled, its growl growing into a full-blown roar of anger and frustration. It, too
, recognized the enemy. The Seelak joined its ally in a howl of pure unbridled hatred and aggression.
The scents of the Hybrid and children confirmed something else in the Seelak's limited intellectual capability. One of those children was a hybrid offspring. The Seelak's imprinted genetic code triggered: Kill all Espers. The Esper must die, and the primates who destroyed its nest must die. It would kill the Esper's offspring, as its children had been killed, and kill anything that got in its way.
The Seelak wandered over to a nearby tree and ripped off chunks of bark and wood with one swipe of its razor-sharp claws. It gestured toward its ally, and they both headed off into the forest, back down to the town – back to spread death and dismemberment to those who had destroyed its home and its eggs.
* * *
Richard sat in his office in total shock at his good fortune. The first phone call from his Nextel wireless confirmed the total and absolute destruction of the tunnel and campsite. The call his wife had received moments ago was from the police. Their daughter had been rescued, and was ferried by helicopter to the command center outside of Hopedale Mountain. Margaret was gathering some things for their daughter, and the two were preparing to head for the Army operations base to claim their child. The third turn of good fortune Richard received was from a news wire. The helicopter that assaulted the Army air ships had blown apart and was scattered over several acres of suburban property. Apparently, the pilot had tried to interfere with the programming and caused the craft's destruction earlier than had been planned.
Despite that one miscalculation, everything went according to plan. Pendelcorp and its owner were virtually free and clear of any wrong doing, and could in no way be implicated in any of the mess that had occurred up in the high country of Hopedale Mountain. Yes, it was a good turn of events for Richard Pendelton: No guilt, no fines, no prison term, and no Erik Knight to interfere with his plans for his family.
Richard grabbed his overcoat and headed out the front door to be with his wife and daughter. The adoption could proceed on schedule now. Another loose end would soon be tied up.
The ride to the Army encampment was quick. Margaret was bursting with anxiety, only wanting to see her baby and hold her once again in her arms. Richard parked his Mercedes behind a large military truck and was immediately approached by two Army personnel. He identified himself and his wife and was immediately escorted to a large olive drab tent with a Red Cross symbol on the rooftop. As they walked in, there was Brianna, wrapped in an Army blanket, along with the other missing children. There were several doctors sitting by the children, and two army officers, one major and one captain.
"It was him," Brianna insisted as she addressed the major. "It was my daddy," she added emphatically, holding up the dog tags hanging around her neck.
"It really was Mr. Knight," the boy sitting next to Brianna affirmed. "I mean, he looked way different, but he talked to us, and told us who he was." The boy paused, his forehead wrinkling. "Well, it wasn't really talking, but we could hear him inside our heads."
"You're all very sure of this?" the major asked.
All the children nodded in unison.
"My daddy came back for me, for all of us, like I knew he would," Brianna announced with a note of finality in her voice.
"Bri," Margaret spoke softly, just loud enough for her daughter to hear.
"Mommy!" the young girl cried as she ran over to her.
"Oh, thank God, thank God you're safe, child," she murmured as she held her daughter tight in her arms.
Brianna looked up at her mother. "Daddy was there. He punched through the boulder and guided us out of the tunnel. You should see him, Mom, he's huge and all silvery. His eyes are like two big blue pilot lights. He saved us from the creatures, and then saved us from this big black helicopter."
Margaret looked down at her daughter with deep sympathy. "Honey, that just can't be. I saw your father in the hospital, just yesterday. He was very, very sick. There's no way he could have gotten up and walked out."
"I don't care what any of you say. I know what I know," Brianna insisted.
A corporal entered the tent, saluted the major, and gave the man a written report. The major studied the report and looked absolutely bewildered.
"I wouldn't say that exactly, Mrs. Pendelton." He continued studying the words on the report. "We contacted the hospital after hearing the children's story. According to the Massachusetts General Hospital, a critical care patient simply got up and walked out of the hospital early this morning. The patient was identified as Mr. Erik Knight. One of the interns claimed that Mr. Knight was in excellent physical condition when he made his abrupt departure."
"How can he be sure it was Erik?" Margaret challenged. "They said he was as good as dead. Dead men don't just get up and walk away."
"It appears that the intern tried to stop him from leaving. Mr. Knight picked the man up with one hand and casually placed him to one side," the major answered, reading from the report. "So, the intern got a very close look at the face and made a positive ID. There are four other witnesses to corroborate this."
Margaret shook her head. "Brawn before brains, that does sound like Erik," she whispered.
"See!" Brianna accused. "You wouldn't believe me."
"He was escorted by two young women," the major continued, "one who had been with him since he had been admitted." The captain then mumbled something about purple hair.
"Shanda!" Margaret and Brianna spoke simultaneously.
"What else did your father say, child?" the major asked intently.
"He said that we should go with the soldiers because Lisa needed medical treatment. He said that he was going to take care of those creatures," Brianna replied.
"Interesting," the major mumbled. "But how can one man hope to succeed where we've failed?"
"If you saw him, you wouldn't have to ask," one of the children spoke up. "The rock that those things put in front of their cave entrance had to weigh tons, and he just smashed through it like it was made out of cardboard. Plus, he's huge, bigger than the biggest body builder—"
"That's enough," the major snapped, cutting the child off in mid-sentence. As he turned back toward his men, Ross looked over at the Pendeltons and knew that soon this tent would be filled with parents. He gestured to the captain to follow him outside. "Stay with the children, Corporal," Ross ordered as he left the tent, his assistant right on his heels. Both men walked back to their command center.
* * *
Major Ross sat behind the small desk in the command tent and stared hard at his second in command. "What's your take on this whole thing, Bill?"
"I don't know, sir," the captain replied honestly. "But if somebody told me yesterday that we'd lose forty armed men to some strange creatures in some backwater hick town, I'd have said they were smoking crack."
The major chuckled as he considered what each child had said. "Every kid said the same thing: There's some massive cavern up there on the top of that mountain, and somebody just went through a great deal of time and effort to seal it up forever."
"I think it's safe to assume that whomever sealed the cavern up are the same people responsible for unearthing it in the first place. From the way the Knight child was talking, it seemed as though they were walking through a mining tunnel of some sort," the captain added.
" It wouldn't be too far a leap to assume whoever dug that tunnel freed those things from the chamber they were sealed in," the major replied, picking up where the captain left off.
"I agree." The captain nodded. "The question is who? From what our records show, that area is state conservation land. Nobody should be doing anything up there."
"True." Ross nodded. "But apparently, somebody wasn't paying attention to the rules, or felt they were above the rules. Either way, that's not our mess. I just want our boys out of there so we can regroup and get some more sophisticated tracking equipment. I'd like some IR goggles, and heat-seeking LAWS Rockets for the next group that tangles wit
h those bastards." Ross noticed the captain shaking his head. "Okay, what's wrong, Bill? I know that telltale shaking of your noggin."
"What do you make of that whole Erik Knight thing? I can't make it add up. If he is alive, and the hospital claims he is, how did he get up miles and miles of woodland, before our men, and why didn't these things take him out the way they've been killing our boys?" he pondered. "And what's with him becoming all silvery? We can assume he was normal-looking when he left the hospital. I can't imagine somebody's skin becoming silver and growing in body mass as details likely to be omitted from a hospital report."
"I don't know," the major replied. "That's another mystery that we need to solve. I can't believe the children just simply made him up. Somebody had to have freed them from the mine. It's unlikely that they could have escaped themselves, and dragged the other child behind them in a pitch-black tunnel." Ross smacked his hands together. "No! Didn't the police reports say that Knight fought these things earlier, both in the woods and in the youth park, and then again at the schoolyards?"
"Yes," Bill answered.
"In those reports, didn't they all say the creatures had glowing eyes, like the children said that Knight now has?" the major questioned.
"Yes," the captain answered again.
"Then somehow Knight is tied into this whole equation, tied in directly with these creatures, maybe even infected by one of them during their previous encounters. That could explain his remarkable recovery and the mutated skin. If we can find him, we'll most likely get all the answers we need," the major added.
"Or," the captain countered, "Knight was never there. The children managed to free themselves and concocted the whole story."
"Do you think that that's likely, Bill?"
"No, sir. It's just another possibility. As long as we're postulating, we may as well throw out all the possibilities."