by Maxey, Phil
Grant placed his hand on Fidel’s arm. “Let’s go back inside. We will see better in the—”
As if by divine providence, light blasted from every corner of the walls and roof around them, including the huge lawned area at the back of the house and the pool and small structure beyond. Somebody had switched on the lights to the grounds, and now they could both clearly see what was making the strange noises.
Both men stood too shocked to even think about using their weapons.
A thing, for a thing was all they could initially label the impossible creature with, slowly rotated its long bony head around to face them.
Beetle? thought Grant. Except it was at least ten feet long, and a few feet wide. A forked tongue flicked from an angular, shell-like head.
Lizard? thought Fidel, except its body was segmented like an insect, and it clearly had too many limbs to be one.
Whatever it was, its tongue flicked out tasting the air. Its body pivoted, then its legs propelled it across the lawn towards them.
Rather than trying to fight what was bearing down on them, they both turned and started to run back to the open doorway. Fidel moved as quick as he could, but Grant could see the older man wasn’t going to make it to safety before the monster was on them. He swung around and fired at the thing, that was now just ten feet from them. He wasn’t sure if the first shot hit, because the creature kept on skittering up the steps, so he fired again, and again, by now he realized the less explosive sound of a revolver was also filling the night with sound.
The strange insect-lizard collapsed just over the top step, its body trailing down to the bottom. It wheezed, then stopped moving.
*****
Mason sat on the edge of a desk at the back of the LA FBI field office. Around him was a room of rolled up sleeves and sweat-stained shirts. All the available field agents stood and sat, looking towards the front of the office and assistant director Holland. Next to him were two suited men no one recognized.
“So this is Dr. Cornell and Drake from STB. I wouldn’t know where to begin with all the shit that’s been happening in the city, so hopefully, the doctors here can fill us in. It’s all yours.” Holland looked at the tall older man, who gave a brief smile then stood next to a large monitor.
“As you all know, a plague of, umm, exotic animals has been attacking the city’s inhabitants. Unfortunately, I can tell you that we are now getting similar reports from elsewhere across the United States although, not to the extent, yet, as we have here.”
“What the hell are they?” said a glossy-faced man.
“Our current theory is that something in the environment has caused insects and other creatures to mutate.”
The man looked at his colleagues. “Not aliens then.”
A ripple of laughter quickly came and went.
Cornel looked directly at the man. “I can assure you the problem is completely terrestrial in nature. However, some of these creatures are quite dangerous.” He looked up at the monitor. “Apart from the attack at LAX, there have been over a hundred 911 callouts so far tonight of people being hurt by them.”
“So what can we do about it?” said Mason.
The room quietened.
Mason stood. “Unless these things are breaking federal laws, I don’t see what our involvement is here. This is a department of agriculture or the CDC’s problem.”
Cornell went to reply, but Holland beat him to it. “You got somewhere better to be Hendricks?”
“As it happens, I have. I’ve got word that one of my informant's life could be in danger. She’s stolen a lot of money from the ‘Centrics’ gang, and there’s a price on her—”
Holland held his hand up. “I’m going to stop you right there. I understand you want your informant to be safe, but there are literally monsters running around the streets of LA.” He looked back at Cornell. “Mason’s got a point though. How can we help?”
Mason and his partner’s eyes met, then the former looked away and sighed.
After being told how the FBI can help back up the various agencies that were on the ground trying to make sense of what was happening, Mason and Hoang were back outside in the parking lot.
He was glad to feel the night air on his face, despite the smell of smoke that came with it.
Hoang looked across from the passenger’s side of the car. “So how we going to find her?”
Mason opened the driver’s door. “First, we put some hours on the clock for Holland, then we get back to it.”
“What we going to do when we find her?”
Mason paused, half in the car, “That’s on me.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Luckily the wind blew the smoke and flames away from Grant’s and the others’ faces. He, Fidel, Galo, and Luciana stood watching the fire consume the insect-lizard, which sat inside pieces of branches.
“Took a lot to put that thing down,” said Grant. “And I still have no idea what it was.”
“Dinosaurs,” said Fidel.
Grant looked at him.
He pointed with his walking stick. “This thing, and the others, I think they are from the time of the dinosaurs, they have returned.”
Fidel noticed Luciana roll her eyes.
“You think that is so crazy? What is your explanation then?”
She looked into the mound of flames, and the organic armor that smoked while the flesh within burned red. “This is man-made. Some kind of experiment. I bet all of this is a big experiment. See how people react.”
Grant and Galo exchanged glances.
“Well, whatever is causing this, it’s someone else’s problem now we’re outside LA.” Grant looked at Fidel. “You got a car you want to sell?”
Fidel looked down.
“What?”
Galo started walking away across to the field and the gate which led into the main garden. “I’m heading back.”
“It will be okay if you want to stay some more days,” said Fidel.
“Oh, now there are monsters roaming ‘Rancho Reyes’ you want us to stay and look after you!” said Luciana.
Fidel looked angrily at her. “If you want to leave, leave!”
Luciana went to reply, but Grant raised his hand. “If you’re offering, then another day would be good for all of us. Ben could do with the rest.” He looked at Fidel. “Thank you.”
Fidel dragged his eyes away from Luciana, and back to Grant, briefly nodding.
They started to walk back when they caught glimpses of Diana, through the well-kept bushes and trees, walking quickly towards them.
“What is it?” said Fidel.
“Come inside quick. It’s happening elsewhere.”
Despite his limp, Fidel and the others were soon back inside the kitchen-dining area, watching the news on the television.
A news crew was walking along a deserted street. It could have been any one of countless ‘Main Streets’ that existed in small towns across America, but this one happened to be in Missouri.
Ahead, were two police officers in body armor that did not seem to sit well on either of them. They were peering around the edge of a store on a corner, looking into an adjoining street to their right that the viewers couldn’t see.
The reporter and cameraman approached when the more stout of the officers waved his hand at them to stay away, but they kept walking forward regardless.
As they watched from inside the Reyes’s kitchen, each person reluctantly wanting to see what the police were looking at, they also could feel reality changing around them, as if their lives were slowly slipping into a movie script.
The cameraman walked around the crouched policeman, showing what the police were hiding from.
“What are they?” said Ben, watching from the doorway.
Grant beckoned him over. “Feel any better?” he said with one eye on the TV.
Ben nodded while doing the same.
About seventy yards from the camera, was a group of creatures which looked like frogs, except they
were a few feet in diameter, and clearly had teeth which were visible each time one would open its wide jaws. Leathery, dark green skins reflected the morning sun, and the creatures would leap forward without warning, covering a distance of three cars in an instant. Some sat on the hoods of pickups while others rested on the roof of a nearby auto mechanics.
The cops didn’t seem to know what to do.
The cameraman walked forward towards the creatures, then met resistance when an arm tried to pull him back. The world on the TV blurred and sped between sky and ground until the cameraman was free and running. Running towards the large frog-like things. Voices called out behind him.
He stopped when a few of the oily-skinned things leaped forward, landing nearby.
Those inside the kitchen, as well as millions watching, held their breath as he panned the camera down to the closest one.
Thin membranes flicked across catlike eyes, which looked up at the man who leaned forward, then there was a judder and a faint inhalation of breath. The view from the camera crashed to the ground, along with a male hand falling partially in front of the lens and then twitching. The street-level view showed a few of the creatures leaping towards the policemen, who were firing.
Grant put his arm around his son as the street filled with ten, then twenty, then too many to count of the jumping things. A clawed foot knocked the camera. It pivoted around exposing the half missing face of the man who got too close. Grant covered Ben’s eyes, but he knew his son had already seen the dead single eye and the deep red of what used to be the cameraman’s face.
Fidel put his arm around his wife.
“I feel…” Sofia put her hand to her mouth.
Fidel switched the channel. More news footage of strange animals was being shown, this time from Florida, but at least they weren’t showing anything that you couldn’t forget… yet. He turned the volume down and sat next to the others.
“I can’t see,” said Ben. Forgetting where his arm was, Grant drew his hand back.
Nobody was sure what words to use, so silence filled the room.
“Are we safe here?” said Diana to her husband.
Fidel wanted to say ‘of course’ but that would have been a lie, and it had been over twenty years since he made his promise to protect her. His eyes looked away. “I don’t know.” He looked at the others. “Where will you go after you leave here?”
Luciana was the first to answer. “San Diego.”
“Why there?”
“I… got family there.”
“How do you know it will be any different there?”
Luciana looked frustrated. “I don’t, but that’s where I’m going.”
Fidel looked at the others. “You are all going there?”
Galo and Estella looked at each other, neither having an answer.
Fidel looked at Grant. “You are taking your boy there?”
Luciana looked at Grant expectantly.
Before Grant could answer, his cell phone started to vibrate on the kitchen counter. It was plugged in with a charger that Fidel had lent him and was finally at four percent battery. He walked and looked down at the reflective screen.
‘Unknown number’ looked back at him.
He tapped the screen and held it to his ear.
“Is this Grant Collins?”
“Yeah, who’s this?”
“I am Mason Hendricks, FBI special agent at the LA field office. Are you alone now, sir?”
“FBI? —” Luciana got to her feet. “— I’m alone, why are you calling me?”
Everyone in the kitchen was looking at him.
“I understand you were at LAX yesterday when the incident happened?”
“You’re still not telling me the point of this call, Agent Hendricks.”
“Well, I know you were there. I also know a fugitive by the name of Luciana Carrillo got into your car, and you left with her.”
“Corrillo?”
Luciana walked forward, waving her hand for Grant to hang up.
“I gave a woman a lift, that’s correct, but I let her out shortly after.”
There was a pause on the other end.
“You see where she went?”
“No idea. I just wanted to get my son back home.”
“And where are you now?”
A number of options ran through Grant’s mind.
“On the road, driving north.”
“And how did you get past the cordon?”
“There was no roadblock when we left.”
“I see. Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Collins. I hope you have a safe journey.”
“Thanks.”
The screen reverted to its usual display.
Grant looked at the others. “We need to leave.”
Ten miles away, Mason looked at his laptop screen, a small icon pulsed on a map just outside the city. He looked across at his partner who was anxiously looking at the park they were sitting alongside of.
“Got ’em. They’re about a twenty-minute drive from here.”
*****
Brad pulled his front door open and walked the few steps down his path to his postbox and looked inside.
“Empty again…” he said to himself.
He stood upright and looked around the street. The air felt cooler than the day before, which he was glad for. He pushed the collar together on his gown.
It was also quieter.
He looked at his neighbor's windows. Only shadows resided behind them. At least Baxter appeared content.
He took a few steps back to his front door and stopped. He then looked back up at the large sycamore tree which sat on the corner of his property.
Squinting, he tried to see if there were any of the sparrows or bluebirds he would be accustomed to seeing at this time of year, but the leaves and branches were empty and swayed gently in the wind. He wondered if any of the strange animals, he had been up till the early hours watching, would make an appearance in Roswell. If they were going to appear anywhere it would be here he thought.
He quickly made his way back inside, closing the door behind him, and walked into the kitchen. Switching his old model TV on, he started to empty out the coffee pot, then stopped on seeing what the screen on the kitchen counter was showing him. He fumbled for the controller, then turned up the volume.
“By our own summary, there have been over two thousand incidents and sightings of anomalous animals within the last twenty-four hours. And it would seem every state has been affected. What you’re seeing right now is footage from a variety of sources across the country, showing… I have to say, quite incredible creatures. Disturbingly, we are also getting reports of similar such animals being seen around the globe. Sometimes with quite devastating… umm, effects on those that witness them. On the line now from Scotland, UK we have Doctor Markus Stewart of the Scottish laboratory of microbiology. Doctor, we have invited you on here because you have been quite vocal on social media in regard to what might be causing what we see in the footage. What’s your take on all of this?”
Stewart went on to say that he wondered if this was just a natural event in the planet’s history, and that perhaps the current Holocene epoch was coming to an end and another was starting with a whole new set of animals.
Brad’s coffee was ready by the time the Scottish doctor had finished talking. It was an interesting theory, but he wasn’t sure if it was going to be useful to anyone.
He looked out to the workshop which stretched along one side and the back of his large yard area. In the center sat a wind turbine, slowly rotating. Today, he was going to check on his supplies. He might have been up to date on the latest conspiracy theories, but unlike his friends the Burfords, he never felt the need to build a bunker or store up a year's worth of MREs. He also didn’t have any weapons. As insects the size of large birds swarmed through the air on his TV, he tapped on the side of his mug wondering if he should take a trip to the hardware store.
He nodded to himself.
Th
irty minutes later he was in his pickup, driving through the tree-lined suburban streets of Roswell. He leaned forward and twisted the nob on the antiquated radio.
He frowned. “Where’s the damn music.” Every space between the white noise was filled with concerned voices.
Eventually, he found a country channel and sat back as the singer bemoaned his cheating wife. He kept to the smaller roads. Over the years he had learned to avoid Main Street during the canine festival period and swung left and right down deserted roads until he emerged south of the central hub of the town.
He pulled out to a four-lane road and drove past the car wash he sometimes used and came to a junction. The light was green but he was unable to drive as a school bus sat directly in the middle of where the four roads met.
“What the hell,” he said to himself. The vehicle appeared empty. He then saw that the front driver's side window was smashed, and a large splash of dark red covered the hood.
Something drew his attention to the other windows of the bus. Every-now and again a small head would pop up before it would duck back down again.
He opened his driver's door but sat inside still. A number of heads shot up, one belonging to an adult, who was waving to him. He couldn’t tell what she wanted as her arm movement was erratic.
“You want me to come to you?… no… leave?”
Brad got out, leaving the truck door open. As he approached the junction he caught something out the corner of his eye. To his right, a man was walking hurriedly towards the junction as well, although his shirt was bloodied and in his hand was a shotgun. He also seemed to be talking to himself, although Brad couldn’t make out what the words were.
Brad stopped and scoured the gas station and the other businesses around him looking for any sign of a holdup, there wasn’t any. His eyes jumped between the school bus, laden with kids and the crazed looking individual surging towards them with the gun. He had to do something.
He started walking towards the man, waving his arms. Maybe he could buy the kids some time before the police showed up.
“Hey, buddy! You don’t—”