by Maxey, Phil
Grant tried to see better who was talking to him.
“Take a seat. You smoke cigars?”
Grant walked to the table and sat, in the glow, he recognized the building’s owner. He was still wearing his Hawaiian shirt, but now also had a rimmed hat. “No, but thanks. It’s Clifton?”
“That’s my name.”
“You live here as well?”
“Yup.” He pointed across the courtyard to the first floor. “Number eleven. Been there for twenty-four years.”
“You must have seen some things.”
Grant could feel Clifton’s smile even if he couldn’t see it.
“That I have. Haven’t seen monsters as big as trees before though. That’s a new one, even for me… so how long were you a cop?”
Grant was taken slightly aback. “How—”
The light from the cigar briefly burned bright again.
“Oh… I could tell. But you’re still fairly young, so I take it you retired due to an injury? Or maybe some other reason?”
Grant could tell Clifton wanted it to be the other ‘reason.’
“Injury.”
Steps came from the hallway behind, and a man appeared that almost took up the full width of it. He bent down and whispered something to Clifton.
“Well, break time’s over for me. People to see, things to do.” He stood. “I hope you stick around. Times like these? Lots of opportunities.”
Grant smiled and Clifton left with the other man.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Raj lifted the blind and looked out the small circular window to the moon shining like a milky white beacon against the night sky.
The plane's engines had settled to a low hum, which he mostly blocked out, enabling him to concentrate on the report he, Stokes, and some others had written up. It was to be delivered at the meeting in Geneva along with reports from other scientific centers from around the world.
The plane he was on was stock full of some of the brightest minds from around the country, including a few from Canada. Next to him sat a specialist in astrobiology. A portly man, who seemed red-faced and out of breath since he first saw him at the check-in desk. On the small table which pulled down from the seat in front of the man, he had arranged four miniature bottles of alcohol. They were only halfway through the flight to Europe and three of them were already empty.
The man caught Raj looking at his beverages. “You can have that one if you like?” He looked down the aisle. “I’m sure they got more back there.”
Raj was tempted by the offer but gave a brief smile. “I’m good, thanks.”
The man offered his hand. “I’m Carlton Dyer, resident expert in biochemical processes which could exist off-planet, at the Honer Institute.” Carlton noticed Raj’s blank expression. “Yes, I know, most haven’t heard of us, but we like to think we do good work.”
Raj shook his hand. “I saw your name and profession on the roster. I’m Raj Joshi—” He searched for the appropriate words to describe his role. “Umm… I work for the government.”
“What do you specialize in?”
“Mostly computational analysis of cell growth. Microbiology basically.”
“Oh, then I guess you and I have a lot to talk about!”
Raj smiled uneasily. He had been told in no uncertain terms not to discuss what he knew with anyone other than Stokes and the others in the team. He didn’t fancy spending the next few years in jail.
The background noise across the seats increased. Raj stood and looked over them. People were intensely looking at the displays in the back of their seats. “What’s going on?” he said to the women seated behind.
“The president is addressing the nation,” said the blonde-haired woman.
“Hey, look,” said Carlton.
Raj turned. The screens on the seats in front of him and Carlton displayed a stern-faced president in the oval office.
Raj quickly reached for the earbuds and pushed them into his ears.
“… you today with much sadness. I, like most of you, have seen the scenes of these strange animals. Creatures, that just a few weeks ago, we did not know existed. I have been meeting with the national security council, including the heads of the department of defense, state, representatives from FEMA, and top scientists from universities and US-based companies. Because of those meetings, it is clear to me that the situation is going to get worse before it gets better—” ripples of discomfort moved through the passengers around Raj. “— So, I have to take the unfortunate step of declaring martial law in a number of states in our nation. This step has been taken with the support of Congress. You will be able to see a list of states affected on your screens now. Other nations across the world are taking the same steps. This is not a decision I have taken easily, but I have taken it because I know it is in the best interest of our nation.” The president reappeared on the screen. “Also, I have been told that animals, whether they be wild, livestock, or domestic are also being affected by this situation and because of which, many may have to be euthanized. If you are an owner of livestock or own domesticated animals, I urge you to register them at the following website, which should be showing up on your screen now. Doing this does not mean that your animal or pet will be taken from you, or any harm will come to it, it just allows the federal authorities to better keep track of how the situation is affecting the animals across our nation. As with other crisis we have faced, we will face this one together. And together, we will get through it. Thank you. God bless you, and may God bless the United States of America.”
The screen changed to show a website address.
“Yeah, like anyone’s going to sign up to that,” said Carlton.
“You got any pets,” said Raj.
Carlton looked guilty. “Bo… he’s a tortoise, had him since I was a teen.”
Raj shook his head. “The animal rights groups are going to go crazy.”
“Yeah, it’s a good thing he’s just got elected.”
“Martial law won’t be easy for people either…”
Carlton picked up his last small bottle, unscrewed the top and drunk half. “Nope.”
“Necessary though if we’re ever going to get a grip on this thing.”
“Yup. Let’s hope all of us so-called experts, can come up with a solution during the next few days.”
*****
Grant walked into the bedroom with a mug of hot chocolate and some cookies. Not the most wholesome of breakfasts, but he knew it would bring a smile to his son no matter how painful his ribs were.
Ben was looking intently at his father's cell phone which was attached by cable to the mains socket and charging.
Grant put the tray down on the bedside table. “New game?”
“Nah.” Ben saw the dark brown liquid and cookies and a smile broke out across his face, producing the same effect in Grant. He put the phone down and picked up the mug.
Grant saw the map on the screen and the tiny purple icons. He sat on the side of the bed and picked it up. “What is this?”
“It’s a new app. ‘Monster locator.’”
Grant studied the screen. The map wasn’t located in San Diego but was entered on LA, on Ben’s home. Around the address were a number of icons, some of which were red.
“What do the red icons mean?”
“Means a monster killed someone… We’re never going home, are we?”
Grant wasn’t prepared for the question. He had never truly contemplated that they would not be able to return. Why wouldn’t they? It’s not like the world was ending. That scenario belonged in movies, not real life. In real life, people always found a way.
He looked at his son. “Of course we will go home, but it might be a while. The authorities have to deal with all these weird animals. Then we will go home.” Despite his convictions, he couldn’t help but feel he was lying. “Thing is… we probably can’t stay here. We’re real close to the sea, and these things have been coming from there.”
“S
o we are going to the desert?”
“Umm, well far from the sea.”
Ben looked down. “I like it here, even with the monsters. Estella and Sofia are nice.”
Grant scuffed Ben’s hair. “You just like Estella’s cooking!”
Ben giggled, then winced, placing a hand on his side. “When will I be better?”
Grant sighed. “It’s going to be some time. Some weeks, but you will get a bit better each day I promise.” Grant stood. “Until then, you get to eat bad food. Enjoy it while you can!”
Ben smiled again.
“Mind if I keep the phone for a bit? I want to study this app.”
Ben frowned and sighed. “Okay.”
“Tell you what. I’m going to go out soon. I’ll find you some comics, sound good?”
Ben nodded.
Grant left the room. Estella was in the kitchen washing some dishes and looked back to Grant.
“How is he?”
“He likes your cooking.”
She smiled.
Grant looked down at his phone then hit the button which said, ‘use location.’ The screen zoomed out, slid south and then back into San Diego. Two icons were just a few miles from his location. He knew what they were. He zoomed out and, as he did, more icons popped up, including some red, along the coast and some to the south and east.
At the top of the screen, a number changed.
’7583 Monsters spotted.’
As he looked, the number leaped up by two more.
“Where’s Galo?”
“Gone to see the monsters at the beach with Sofia.”
Grant looked around the living room which opened up to the small kitchen.
Estella put a dish on the counter and started on another. “You look lost, Mr. Collins.”
“Umm… I was thinking of leaving with Ben today.”
Estella froze with the dish still in her hand. “Leaving? How?”
“How? With… the pickup…”
“You have not heard?”
“Heard what?”
“They have declared martial law. It is like LA. Nobody can leave the city.”
Grant’s face grew frustrated. “What?”
“Si. We are all stuck here. They said on the news that if the problem is viral, then they don’t want it to spread. So people cannot leave the major cities. The military are now running some areas.”
Grant shook his head and sat on the arm of the sofa. “I imagine that’s not gone down too well in the Midwest.”
“The states most affected are on the coast… Yes, from one cage to another,” said Estella. “But at least it will give Ben more time to heal.”
Grant nodded. “In that case… if we’re going to be here for a while. I’m going to see what supplies I can get. You mind keeping an eye on Ben?”
Estella smiled. “Of course.”
Grant collected his keys and made his way downstairs to the courtyard. He went to walk to the pickup when he stopped, changed direction, and was soon approaching Gabriel’s door. Raised voices could be heard from within.
He hesitated to knock when the door opened anyway. The giant of a man he had seen the night before was standing before him. He looked down at Grant, who stepped back.
“I need it done before the weekend. You got that?” came Clifton’s voice from behind the human wall.
“Yeah, I got it,” said Gabriel.
The big man walked into the hallway, followed by Clifton who was half his size. “Hey, it’s the ex-detective. How are you on this fine morning?”
Grant looked at Gabriel who was facing away, then back to the man in the hat. “Been better. You heard about the martial law?”
Clifton sighed. “I did. These friggin monsters. Anyway, you stay well, Grant.” Clifton patted Grant on his arm then walked with the man out to the street.
Grant looked back inside the apartment. “Everything alright?”
Gabriel nodded.
“I’m going to make a run to the stores. I figured you know the area, maybe you could give me a guide as to where to go?”
Gabriel nodded. “Sure. Let’s go.”
Soon they were driving along busy streets, lined with red and orange flowers, palm trees and cream-colored homes on multiple levels. A number of their residents were unloading wooden beams and boards from the back of trucks.
“Luci told me what happened at LAX,” said Gabriel. “Take the right at the junction.”
“That was a pretty crazy situation.”
“Thanks for helping her out.”
Grant swung right into a main road that was loaded with traffic. “Looks like we’re not the only ones looking to stock up.”
“A few miles up here, there’s a farmer’s market. I get my stuff there.”
The smell of the sea mixed with gasoline fumes.
“What did Clifton want?”
Gabriel looked out the side window. “Ah, nothing. I do things for him. Help him out with computer stuff.”
“You’re like a computer whiz, eh?”
“Not really, I’m just good with the art programs… So you an ex-cop?”
“Detective. Twenty years, Hollywood division. In here?” Grant nodded to the entrance to the large parking lot. A train of vehicles was ahead of them. Another equally long line was leading back out. People were walking along the sidewalk, their hands full of groceries.
“Yeah…”
Grant could tell Gabriel’s mind was elsewhere.
“You know anything about that FBI agent, Mason?”
“Only that he’s an asshole. But then Luci always did go for those types.”
Grant pulled into a parking space.
A man ran past with a rack of plastic water bottles, which knocked against the side of the pickup.
“Looks like we better get in there quick.”
Grant and Gabriel looked at a sea of people inside the store, one of two who were fighting. There were no carts or baskets, but they pushed forward regardless. After ten or so minutes, they were back at the tills, with arms full of frozen meat, breakfast bars, and as much bottled water as they could hang on too. Grant also had a few comics folded and crammed into the belt of his pants.
Grant paid and they were back outside in the noon sun, weaving between vehicles trying to enter or leave. As they made their way across the parking lot there were screams in the distance. They both ignored the sounds which quickly got lost in the wall of car horns and angry drivers.
A man ran into Grant, knocking the groceries to the ground. He looked at him as the man ran away. “Hey, watch where you're going!”
More screams, but this time it was more than one person.
Grant shook his head as he leaned down to pick up the items and push them back in the bags.
More people ran past them.
Gabriel looked across the football-field-sized lot. At the far end, people that were running towards him suddenly fell to the ground as if they had been sucked downwards.
The chorus of screams was joined by shouts of panic.
A woman, holding her child’s hand ran past them, then an elderly man, a torrent of people becoming blurs. Gabriel jumped up on the nearest empty car. His expression turned to one of fear.
“What is it?” said Gabriel.
“There’re things…”
A hundred yards away, octopus type tentacles thrashed around amongst shoulders and heads.
The sound of a helicopter roared above them, quickly followed by the mechanical shunting noise as shells split the air converging on the far side of the parking lot.
The entire sea of people was now moving in one direction. Running in a blind panic.
“Come on! We have to go!” shouted Grant.
Gabriel jumped down, and they both scrambled inside the pickup.
Grant repeatedly hit the horn as he drove forward with the rest of the vehicles and people, all desperate to escape.
Squeals joined the engine noises and hordes of soldiers started to run onto t
he lot.
Grant bumped up and over a small curb and accelerated away.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Someone Brad hadn’t heard from for many years answered the phone.
“Brad Crenshaw?” said Elizabeth Trow. Her voice was different, deeper, more coarse than he remembered it.
“It’s me, Elizabeth. It’s been a while.”
“That it has. How many years has it been?”
“Over a decade, I think.”
“Time really does fly. How are you?”
“I’m okay. Getting by. I saw that John passed, please accept my condolences.”
“Thank you… You’re still in Roswell?”
“I am. Whereabouts are you?”
“Just been reassigned to Hood, in Texas. I’m a general now.”
Brad could hear the pride in his old friend's voice. “I saw that. Congratulations.”
“Yeah, it’s been a long journey, but it’s good to be making a difference. Especially in times like this.”
“Yes, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“What do you mean?” A muffled voice could be heard in the background, to which her reply was equally hushed.
“I just wondered if you could tell me anything about what’s going on? I’ve seen the military being deployed on the news.”
“Ha, now you know, Brad, I’m not allowed to talk about such things. I take it you’re still into all that conspiracy stuff then?”
“I am. Even got my own internet radio show. We, err… had one of those things attack some people in town. I saw it with my own eyes…”
“Yes, it’s… quite a situation we’re having to help with. But I’m confident we can handle it. Are you safe there?”
“I think so. It’s hard to tell right now, there’s something new every hour.”
“Yes, it’s definitely a developing situation. Look, we should talk longer some other time, but I have to go now. Glad to hear you’re okay.”
“Sure, good to talk to you too.”
“Bye.”
Brad put his phone down a little harder than he intended. He looked down at the piece of paper in his hand with the questions he should have asked and dropped it to his desk.