Kaiju World

by R. F. Blackstone

  "Can you get any readings on survivors?"

  Mako opens her mouth but instead of speaking she cries out from the flash of bright pure white light. It radiates out from the centre of the Kaiju battles, enveloping everything in its way.

  Is it a bomb? Mako thinks as she keeps Anno steady. Below her she can hear the small Category 1 whimpering and quivering with fright. Why isn’t there an explosion—

  Her thought is quickly lost as both she and Anno are thrown by the shockwave. They are buffeted about and the explosion is deafening. Anno rolls back and forth, trying to keep steady and Mako has to shield her eyes. The Perspex dome is cracking from the blast and she needs to know what caused it; the reactor? The underwater volcano? Or was it one of the Kaijus?

  Slowly the light fades and the sight is total annihilation; all the earth is scorched and charred while the trees have been vaporised. What were once buildings are now nothing more than black husks that topple with the wind. Mako has seen images of this type of devastation before. In school they were shown pictures of the aftermath of the nuclear bombs dropped by the United States, Hiroshima and Nagasaki...but there weren’t any jets or detection of missiles. Then...?

  She pushes Anno on, slowly moving across the barren wasteland. In her ear she can hear Dutch's voice crying out for anyone to contact him. Were they caught in the blast? Mako hopes not because as she and her Kaiju get closer, she can see the frozen, stone hard encrusted remains of Ishiro. It stands tall, the perfect statue. The frozen Kaiju is the perfect ode to chaos and destruction; its face contorted into a snarl that is going to last forever, the tentacles are in various positions of attack and defence with some in the middle of tossing away the smaller monsters. Ishiro is covered in small ashen figures, the other Kaijus.

  Was it a self-defence mechanism? Mako is enthralled by the sight.

  "Mako!...Mako!"

  She touches her ear, "I'm here Dutch. This is incredible."

  "We saw. Are you okay?"

  Mako nods then realises that he cannot see her. "Yeah, but I don't think anyone survived that." She presses a button and a square appears on the cracked dome. It zooms in on the stone-looking tentacles and Mako Ikari gasps. “I found Pryke,” she sighs.

  Gideon Pryke is now nothing but an ashen figure being held tightly by a tentacle. One of his legs is in the mouth of a Kaiju and his face is one of pain and terror. Nobody will ever know how he ended up in that predicament, but Mako knows his pain is over as a gust of wind blows him away, his ash floating away into the sky.

  "Yeah, well it’s tragic,” McTiernan says. “But we got word. Choppers are inbound. Get to the beach ASAP, I'm sending you the co-ordinates now."

  "What about Anno?"

  Dutch sighs, "Not our concern after this. Word is that Japan is going to carpet bomb the island. Wipe every trace of Kaiju from the face of the earth. You've fifteen minutes."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  "Do you think she'll come?" Roxie asks, pacing up and down the beach.

  "Hey! Watch it!" Johann says trying to protect the red and green flares from the sand her boots kick up.

  "Huh? Oh, sorry."

  They got to the beach sooner than Dutch had thought. Without any of the Kaijus to worry about attacking them it was an easy trek. The only thing to slow them was Lawrence; in the blast he had been thrown against a tree. But he was able to keep up with the steady pace Dutch set for them. Even though they were positive that the coast was clear, Dutch wasn’t going to take any chances and they moved with the same level of alertness they used when on a hunt.

  Now at the beach all they have to do is wait for the Evac Helos and then Dutch can worry about a new job. A moan makes him look down at Lawrence who is holding his side. The makeshift bandage is oozing blood and it is obvious that the man is going to die, unless he gets medical attention soon. "You doing okay?"

  Lawrence smiles weakly. "Fine and dandy."

  McTiernan nods and smiles. “Good man.” He’s always hated leaving men behind, but sometimes life is a bitch and that’s the only thing to do. Otherwise you risk the safety and wellbeing of everyone else, and as Spock said perfectly in Wrath of Kahn, “The needs of the many.”

  "She'll make it," Roxie says with a definite nod.

  Johann groans then snaps, "Why is it so important--"

  "--What's that?" Dutch says silencing everyone. He stands and raises his weapon, aiming it at the trees.

  "The wind?" Johann says, quietly hoping for nothing but that. He's had enough of the gargantuans and wants to be back in his Alps.

  There is a roar followed by the trees bowing and bending as Anno explodes onto the beach. The dome is cracked and Mako looks frazzled but she waves at them then points behind her.

  "What the...?" Dutch says and uses his communicator. "Mako, we can't hear you. Repeat."

  Her answer is to hold up the headset which is now in three pieces. She begins miming what looks like a tyrannosaurus rex stomping around and roaring, then a small ball bouncing and being kicked. Dutch and his team stare blankly at her then at each other, none are champions at charades.

  "Did she hit her head?" Johann quips before ducking the right hook levelled at him by Roxie.

  Mako spins in the dome, the railguns following as do the rocket launchers. Her shoulders bunch as if she is waiting for something.

  "Oh no," Dutch says as his eyes widen and the realisation of what’s about to happen hits him full force. "Lock and load!"

  But he’s too late.

  The railguns and rocket launchers mounted on the smaller Kaiju open fire as Ishiro's bulk crawls through the trees. The monster is covered in exposed wounds that ooze bright orange blood, chunks of flesh dangle in the breeze and the two good eyes are nothing more than black orbs of rage, exactly like a shark.

  It looks as if the monster had to tear itself from its frozen stance; the legs and what could be called arms are nothing more than slowly bleeding stumps and mounds of pulpy flesh. Bright white shards of bone are visible here and there. The question of how Ishiro has been moving is answered as a loud sucking and popping sound echoes out into the sea.

  “Of course it’s got tentacles,” Roxie says as the tentacles dig large clumps of sand out from under the heaving bulk then toss it away. Others of the long sticky suction cupped covered limbs dive into the sand and pull. The entire motion does one thing, drags the behemoth across the sand as it roars.

  The Category 5 flinches as bright explosions bombard it. Dutch and his team look at the smaller Kaiju and Mako on top.

  The bolts from the railguns sear the flesh, the sizzling sound fills the ears and the smell of burning meat is mouth-watering.

  “Is it weird that I’m feeling hungry?” Johann asks as he rolls, narrowly avoiding a tentacle.

  “Shut up ya drongo!” Roxie answers with a laugh.

  Mako continues firing, her fingers alternating between the railguns and the missiles which do nothing but to agitate the monster. Ishiro utters a low guttural growl that turns into a shriek as the beams of light converge towards its immense head.

  Anno launches itself just in time to avoid the beam that shoots out of the gargantuan mouth. The tiny humans drop to the ground and feel the air vaporise above them. If that thing ever fired in a city…Dutch thinks before rolling to his feet.

  He watches as the smaller Kaiju continues its flight and the gigantic slit of a mouth ripping open, the teeth ripping a chunk of flesh off that makes the Category 5 shriek in pain.

  "Open fire!" Dutch barks as he squeezes the trigger.

  Roxie whoops as she drops to her knees and squeezes the trigger of her Stygr, she has set it to automatic mode and the only thing she has to do is aim. The bolts of energy travel across the beach almost faster than light and dissipate the moment they hit the flesh. “Shit,” she mutters as three tentacles shoot out at her.

  Johann shouts a battle cry as he flies over to the woman, the machete in his hand making short work of the slimy tentacles. For his size he certainl
y packs a punch as it takes only one blow to sever the writhing limb.

  “Thanks,” Roxie wheezes as the Austrian helps her up.

  His answer is to grin broadly then roll as more tentacles chase after him.

  “Roxie!” Dutch’s voice grabs her. “Back in the game!”

  She nods then turns, suddenly aware of a new more familiar noise.

  Behind them they can hear the low whumping of the helicopter blades. Anno does too, spinning to see the new threats and in the split second its attention is distracted, Ishiro’s tentacles snap out and grabs the ball. The smaller creature howls and squeals in pain as its body is slowly crushed as the increasing number of limbs encase it and Mako inside.

  Dutch takes careful aim and begins firing. The purple lasers hit their target perfectly each time, but the tentacles will not release or give. He curses and wishes they had one of the rocket launchers. Who’d have thought it? he muses as he leaps out of the way of a flying tree. Who would have thought that a Category 5 would be so painful to deal with?

  He hears Roxie panting as she slides across the sand and in one smooth movement scoops up the Beretta M9. Quickly she checks the ammo counter and smiles at the triple digits. Her eyes glance down and she frowns, Lawrence isn’t moving at all. His face is locked in a serene smile but his eyes are glassy.

  “Stop lollygagging!”

  The order breaks her momentary mourning and with a growl she drops onto the sand, the weapon resting on the body. Roxie adjusts the scope until the tentacle covered dome is in her sights then with a slight exhale, she fires.

  Inside the dome, Mako Ikari panics and presses every button, squeezes the triggers on the joysticks and hopes that some weapon will force the tentacles loose. She isn’t sure how much longer the dome will last but the Professor is certain that Anno will be crushed any second now. The whimpering is heartbreaking and the woman looks down, the flesh is being pushed, the mounting pressure forcing veins to burst and explode. Orange blood oozes and seeps out of the pores.

  The cracking of the dome stops as all around her Mako hears the twanging and pinging of lasers mixed with the shrieks of Ishiro. Slowly the tentacles loosen their grip then drop off. Blue lasers continue to hit the tentacles, but it is too late.

  On her monitor Mako sees Anno’s life signs barely registering, it would take a miracle for the little ball of flesh to be okay, and she knows that there is no escape for her. She has only one last option to at least buy the others some time--

  Mako Ikari screams as the broken and limp Anno is dropped into the gaping drool dripping maw of Ishiro. The massive teeth tear the flesh and bones, revealing the pulpy mess of organs that begin to slither out of the hole. Ishiro purrs as it swallows then gently places the carcass into its mouth, chews and then swallows the remains and the Professor easily.

  The enormous beast ignores the laser blasts that seem to do no damage of any sort. The eyes focus on the helicopters approaching, then to the ocean and the tiny dots of light that is Chiba.

  "Don't let it get to the water!" Dutch bellows as the monster’s tentacles pull then acts like springs, launching the Kaiju into the air.

  One of the helicopters is smacked by a tentacle and the sudden impact damages the tail rotor.

  The pilots inside frantically try to restart the rotor but they are spinning wildly out of control. The other helicopters try to dive out of the way.

  “Pull up!” a pilot cries out as the first smashes into it, the rotor blades dicing the protective window and tearing the two bodies apart. Both begin spinning out of control as the blades become caught, then stuck and break apart while the petrol lines rupture.

  There is a spark of electricity from the black box which ignites the gas.

  The explosion blinds the remnants of A.R. Team, they have to shield their eyes and look away. Around them they hear the distinct sound of something on fire plummeting to the ground.

  Johann is the first to look. “Move!”

  They dive out of the way of the falling burning wreckage that was the helicopters. It hits the sand with a thud and continues to burn. In the air the other helos dodge and weave, trying to avoid the tentacles. One is grabbed and the blades fly off, impaling the back of the monster.

  Dutch, Johann and Roxie stand in disbelief as the Kaiju dives into the water, taking the helicopter with it and then disappears into the murky depths of the Japanese Sea. The ripples from the water displacement turn into tidal waves that converge onto the beach.

  A.R. Team are barely able to make it to the trees as the sea water rushes onto the dry sand, covering everything then washes back out to sea, the wrecked helicopters taken with it.

  There is nothing that they can do as behind them the sounds of burning fires eating away the forest and structures across the tiny island. Each of them knows what lies in store for the island nation of Japan and if Ishiro is not stopped, then the whole world. If only they had a way to warn the Japanese Government and the people about the approaching storm.

  As the water becomes calm and mirror-like again, Dutch is the first to speak. He utters a small single sentence that sums up how they are all felling. "Shit."

  The End.

  Read on for a free sample of Kaiju: Deadfall

  Acknowledgements

  This book wouldn't be in existence if it wasn't for King Kong, Godzilla and the rest of this wonderful larger than life monsters of the silver screen. Also a massive thanks should go to my wonderful publisher Severed Press and to the Dead Robots Society Podcast and it's Listener Facebook Group.

  Also By The Author

  Big Smoke: Book 1 of the Apocalypse Virus

  Cabins: A Short Story

  Flicker

  1

  Wednesday, August 8, 2018 5:30 a.m. (PDT) San Francisco, California –

  If he had known he was going to die, Miles Candicott still probably wouldn’t have changed his routine, but he might have enjoyed his last morning on Earth more deeply. He was a habitual early riser, not for the opportunity to watch the sun rising over Eureka Peak, but to beat the early morning traffic. As on any other day, he left his Outer Sunset two-bedroom, 1950’s bungalow on Noriega Street at five in the morning and jogged to the Great Highway along the coast. From there, his trek would take him one mile north to Golden Gate Park, returning home for a shower and breakfast before leaving for his law office in downtown San Francisco.

  He had unfailingly performed this morning ritual for five years. At forty-one, he thought himself in better shape than when he turned twenty-five. He was single, enjoyed a full life both in and outside the gay community, and his salary was in the comfortable upper six-figure range. He embraced his lifestyle with gusto. As a native San Franciscan, he wished to be no other place in the world.

  The park was his favorite leg of the route. He relished the two mile jog along the deserted park trails. A light mist had rolled in from the ocean hiding the sidewalk, but he knew the path by heart. The streetlights created undulating pools of brightness. The nearby trees floated on a luminescent cloud. When the tops of the trees began to glow with reflected light, Miles glanced upwards to find the entire eastern sky aglow. Confused, he stopped to check his watch – 5:30 a.m. As he watched dumfounded, the sun grew brighter. Not the sun, he surmised. A meteor, a large one. Make a wish.

  The falling star moved quickly, growing larger as it approached, crossing the night sky like a herald of the morning to follow. His heart raced, not from the vigor of his run, but from the fear that he was the target of a celestial object that seemed to be zeroing in on him. Night turned to day, as the object lit up the sky overhead. He held his breath, fighting a growing panic, as the meteor shot overhead at a distance of less than a mile. The warmth of its heat touched his upturned face. A trail of smoke and flame followed the fireball as it descended. When the sonic boom it produced slammed into him, he clapped his hands over his ears and grimaced from the pain. Car alarms began wailing in the nearby neighborhoods. Dogs howled.

  Mouth op
en in awe, blinking his eyes against the bright glare, he watched mutely, as the fireball struck the water near the Farallon Islands some twenty-seven miles distant. Its impact illuminated the ocean, sending a plume of steam skyward, as millions of gallons of seawater vaporized in an instant. Seconds later, the cloud of steam turned to glowing vaporized rock as the object buried into the seabed. Just as the glow died, the ground began to tremble, a low rumble at first, but steadily growing stronger until the tremor knocked him to his knees. He braced himself with his hands. The leaves rustled as the trees around him shook violently. The sidewalk cracked beneath him; then buckled. He had experienced mild 4.0 tremors in his lifetime, and this one was much worse, a 5.0 or 5.5 at least.

  As if the gods had decided that quake alone hadn’t caused sufficient damage for such a cosmic event, deep beneath the earth, the San Andreas and Hayward Faults began to shift. Under tremendous pressure, rock ground against rock, echoing the impact of the meteor, sending spasms racing outward in all directions. The ground shook more vigorously like a tossed blanket, uprooting trees and knocking down power lines. Sparks flew from damaged transformers, starting fires. Around him streetlamps rocked violently until their bulbs cracked, plunging him into darkness. Soon, the earthquake rattled not only the coast, but the entire peninsula as it grew in magnitude, reaching a 6.0, and then pushing on to a devastating 7.5.

  Downtown, buildings constructed to handle the tectonic shifts prevalent in the area, swayed like pendulums. Glass building facades shattered, cascading shards of broken glass to the streets and sidewalks below. Older buildings collapsed altogether. Streets caved in. Fire hydrants ruptured, spraying geysers of water into the air. Fires erupted from broken gas mains.

  The Golden Gate Bridge swung wildly, undulating between the towers like a plucked guitar string, but it held, though early morning motorists feared for their lives. The Bay Bridge likewise became a high-tension spring. The pavement cracked and split, as the bridge bucked and twisted along its great length. Cables ripped from moorings, but the structure remained standing.