Cascade Prequel (Book 1): Encounter

by Maxey, Phil

  He closed his eyes and listened, then he heard it. Amongst the other heavier breathing was the lighter clearer breaths of his son. That was real.

  “You ever going to finish that?” said Bass, who was laying on the carpeted floor a few feet away.

  Grant smiled and threw it over to him.

  Bass eagerly bit into the chocolate.

  “How you feeling?”

  Bass nodded while chewing. “Better… my CO must think I’m dead. How’s the cell coverage? Still out?”

  Grant had already checked it an hour before, but he pulled the phone from his pocket and held it towards Bass without checking it again.

  Bass frowned. “They probably took the network down.”

  “What you mean?”

  Bass finished the candy and held his hand out for the water, which Grant handed to him. “It’s all part of the FEMA plan. They needed to stop the panic. Can’t have too many videos of the things, so the networks, including the internet, gets switched off in certain areas.”

  “It’s too late for that. The whole world knows.”

  “Yeah, but they still think…”

  Grant looked at him. “Still think what?”

  Bass took another gulp of water. “I can’t say. Above my pay grade.”

  “No… I saved your ass. What do you know?”

  Bass sighed and looked briefly away. “All I know is what my squad's orders were and some rumors…”

  “Which are?”

  “The animals. All of them, from itty bitty bugs up to like cats, dogs, everything, they are changing. Becoming like these… new things. And the scientists can’t do shit about it.”

  As the words floated towards Grant, he felt as if he was sinking further into the madness. From what happened at the airport, to the chaos back at the apartment block, he still knew there was hope. That this event, whatever it was, would eventually fizzle out, and life would return to normal. But each day made the changes that were happening feel more permanent.

  “All animals have changed?”

  “Nah, nowhere near it. I heard, so far, there’s something like zero point zero two percent of the world's species have been found different. But it’s increasing by the hour.”

  “Can’t they just kill all the new creatures?”

  Bass shook his head. “They don’t even know what most of the new things are. They just keep popping up everywhere and killing people.”

  Grant looked across the smoke-filled room to the lounge area. “Right.”

  “Yeah, it’s some scary shit.”

  “What about you? Where’s your family?”

  “Got a sister in Boston. But I’m going to get her in… I can’t say any more.”

  “Hey, I’m an ex-cop, you can tell me. What you think I’m going to do, go on the evening news and tell everyone?”

  Bass frowned. “My platoon was one of a few sent to San Diego to start building a wall. About a hundred square miles in total.”

  “All around the city?”

  “The border wall will be the southern barrier, then a few miles out to the east, going south to north, then across to the sea just north of Carlsbad. We’re using eminent domain to take over large buildings, so new people got somewhere to stay, where they ain’t food for the new things.” He rolled the water bottle back to Grant. “Tomorrow morning, crazy monsters or not, I have to get back to the city. But I’ll get you, Ben, and Sofia into a place.”

  “Thanks…”

  Bass laid back down and closed his eyes.

  Grant did the same, but his eyes remained open.

  *****

  The traffic light changed from orange to red just as Brad got to the junction.

  As he sat in the pickup, the only sound was the engine. Despite the blue sky and sun, the roads and sidewalks were empty. An American flag, hanging from a storefront, ebbed and swayed due to the occasional gust of wind.

  He thought about pulling out into Main Street and ignoring the lights. There were no vehicles for a mile in any direction, but he wasn’t willing to give up on civilization just yet. There were rules.

  Behind him was a six-story office building. Its dark windows looked dead. He doubted there was anyone at work inside.

  The light switched to green and he pulled slowly into the six-lane road which ran through the center of the town.

  He drove slowly, hoping to see any sign that the town was still functioning as normal. Usually, at this time in the morning, he would see a steady trickle of people coming to and from the courthouse, but it too looked as if it had given up.

  A UFO-themed coffee shop slipped past, devoid of its usual queue of twenty-somethings eager to get their espressos.

  He stopped at another junction and lights which served no purpose. Again, waiting seemed pointless. His imagination played with the idea that he was the last man on earth. This time, he eased forward on the gas a little sooner than before, moving across the empty space just as the light changed.

  The pickup's engine echoed around the streets, making the silence even more oppressive.

  He switched on his radio and turned the knob. He immediately found a number of stations and skipped past the news until he heard the soft tones of Claire de Lune by Debussy. It reflected his mood perfectly.

  Businesses and gas stations became single-story homes until he arrived at his destination, Roswell school. There was already a sea of cars and pickups parked on the lot which sat alongside the blocklike series of red-brick buildings.

  He found a space and got out. For a moment, he allowed the warmth of the sun to persuade him it was a typical morning, then walked across the lot to the gym entrance. A police officer stood just inside the door and opened it for him as he approached.

  The young man smiled as Brad walked past into the corridor, then emerged into the large open area and a wall of noise. The twelve rows of seats which ringed the basketball court were filled with people. On the glossy wooden floor were more police officers, and a few others that Brad recognized. He found a space about halfway up the bank of plastic chairs and sat.

  Some of the group twenty yards from him briefly gathered together, then one of them pulled away and walked to a mike that sat on the end of a stand.

  “If I could have some quiet. We need to get started,” said a man in a light beige blazer. “As many of you know I’m Mayor Hensley, and we wanted all of you to come here today to inform you of what our plans are to keep the town of Roswell safe from what’s been happening—” Brad liked Hensley. Despite the rumors, he always struck Brad as a man who wanted the best for his town. “— In this country of ours.”

  “Are the monsters already here?” shouted someone in the crowd.

  “That depends on what you mean by ‘monster’—”

  “On the TV!” shouted a woman.

  “— Well there are a number of creatures that have been reported across the nation but, to answer your question, we have already had some incidents including one you may have heard about—”

  “The school bus?”

  “— Yes, that was one such incident. Right, I’m going to hand you over to Sheriff Moore. I’ll be happy to answer your questions afterward.”

  The stout sheriff Brad had spent the morning with just a day before stepped forward looking as if he hadn’t slept since.

  “There have been a number of attacks by these creatures over the past week. Resources are stretched thin. I would have liked to have called in some extra officers from nearby towns, but they have their own problems to deal with, meaning we have to do what we can with the people we have. As such, I’m going to be deputizing a number of some of the good folk of this town to help patrol the neighborhoods. You will not have arrest powers, but you will be issued a sidearm and a radio if you don’t have them and given a route to watch. Just as a rough guide, who here would be interested in that?”

  There was a slight pause, then people started putting their arms up. After a few seconds, about twenty percent of the crowd had han
ds raised. Brad wasn’t one of them.

  “Good. Once we finish here, come down to the station and we will register your name and details.”

  “What are we going to do for food? Most of the stores are already out of fresh meat and veg!” shouted an elderly man near the front. A ripple of support of his question went around the crowd.

  “I’m glad you asked that Quintin. I have put out the order with the mayor that all grocery stores are to close, effective immediately—” a louder ripple of discomfort filled the stadium. Doug raised his hands. “— Hold on folks. Let me explain. If we let people just carry on stripping the shelves, some of us would be fine, but many would be going short on food very soon. We—” he looked at the Mayor. “— Thought it would be better to start a rationing system. Everyone here will be given coupons which they can use to buy food. People who are not here today will be able to pick some up from the station.”

  Angry sounds broke out.

  “I ain’t being told what I can and can’t buy!” shouted a man in a baseball cap who then stood and walked out. A number of others followed him.

  Doug looked at the Mayor who returned to the mike.

  “People, please, come back. You won’t be able to use—”

  A scream and some shouts came from the corridor that the frustrated citizens had just left from. The door to it flew open. People started pouring back into the gym.

  Doug jogged forward to greet them.

  “They’re out there! The dog-men!” said the man in the cap.

  Doug immediately raised his radio to his mouth to reach the officers that were stationed outside. One of them ran into the gym and leaned into the sheriff. Doug nodded then turned to the restless crowd.

  “Everyone be calm. There’re some of the creatures in the parking—”

  Shots rang out in the distance.

  Doug looked at his deputy. “Just keep everyone in here.” He then looked back to the three other officers and they all disappeared into the corridor. The Mayor uttered some words, but the background noise was too loud for anyone to hear him.

  More shots came from outside, people stood and started to move down the steps to the court.

  Brad went with them and pushed through the anguished faces until he made it to the lone officer standing near the exit.

  “I got a weapon in my pickup, I can help out there.”

  The stubble-faced officer shook his head, not being sure whether to take Brad up on his request. Crackling came to his radio, then shots then screams.

  “Hello? Doug? Jason?” he said into the mike with no reply.

  “I can help!”

  He nodded and Brad slipped by as others protested to be let out as well.

  Brad ran down the corridor then slowed when he got to the glass doors. He could already hear the growling.

  He peered through the glass pane, a man in uniform lay dead about thirty yards away at the side of a blue coupe. Silver streaks scarred the doors, which were also smeared in red, and pools of blood were gathered on the ground.

  He then noticed Doug and another officer, crouched behind a pickup about twenty yards ahead of him. They appeared to be waving, but he—

  A dark form appeared in his view and the glass to the door shattered. Brad instinctively fell backwards landing heavily on the smooth floor.

  Teeth.

  Snarling, growling, fur-covered claws clambered to force the ten-foot high standing beast through where the glass was, and into the corridor with Brad. Its head was that of a wolf, but its body was humanlike, with arms and legs.

  Werewolf…

  Brad’s boots scrambled against the smooth floor, while his hands shifted amongst the shards of glass, all in an attempt for him to get to his feet, but the impossible creature was already almost through the gap. Death was certain.

  A blast rang out and the creature groaned in pain. It tried to turn, but it was lodged too far through the broken door. Another blast then another bang, this one smaller, more focused.

  The creature flailed, its claws scraping the paint from the nearby wall, then collapsed. It's torso slumping forward.

  A crackling came from behind Brad, he turned around to see the officer and others standing, looking on in fright, their guns raised.

  “You alive in there, Brad!” shouted Doug from outside.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Grant stood near the external door and listened. There was only silence on the other side. He hoped that meant they were alone, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Bass stood directly behind him, with the shotgun at the ready.

  Grant slid the latch across and gently pushed the door open. Cool air rushed through the gap with the morning sunlight. He held the door for a moment. Still no sounds. Not even the wind.

  Pushing the door further, he stepped outside onto the compact sandy ground and scoured the area outside. Everything looked as it should. Beige-green hills, dotted with bushes and the occasional clump of small green trees. Bass went to step outside as well but Grant raised his hand for a few seconds, then he waved him forward.

  No words passed between anyone as planned, and they all crept across the dry ground to the pickup. Everyone noticed the scratches along the side of the white paintwork but got in the cabin anyway.

  Grant turned the key and they set off moving quickly across the makeshift parking lot and onto the narrow country road.

  “Not seeing anything that shouldn’t be out here,” said Bass, looking into the hills.

  “What’s that noise?” said Sofia in the backseats.

  Grant slowed the pickup to a stop.

  “Can you feel that?” said Grant.

  They all felt vibrations coming up from below them.

  “Is it an earthquake?” said Ben.

  Grant eased on the gas and they moved slowly forward. In the distance, a plume of dust was just visible over the crest of the hill they were almost at the top of.

  “It’s coming from down in the valley,” said Bass.

  The pickup turned a bend and stopped again.

  “Woah,” said Ben.

  Below them, a two-lane road was full of trucks, some army, some civilian. On their backs were construction vehicles. Diggers, drillers, and cranes. Other trucks were carrying concrete blocks. There was no end to the convoy in either direction.

  “That’s for the wall,” said Bass.

  They all looked at the cavalcade thundering through the valley, and it struck them all that things were never returning to how they were before. The pickup pulled off down the hill.

  As they pulled up to the junction to the main road, the vehicles were still passing.

  “Just how big is this wall going to be?” shouted Grant, trying to be heard over the roar of engines.

  “Big enough to keep the monsters out,” said Bass.

  The pickup turned onto the road, and they headed back into the city.

  “Look…” said Sofia as they drove alongside a fence which bordered a large field.

  The carcasses of horses laid across the dirt, bloody and dismembered.

  The scene quickly passed as Grant increased their speed. They all had questions, but it felt pointless asking them.

  As homes began to appear off the side of the road, the clatter of gunfire filled the air.

  “Over there!” said Sofia.

  Soldiers were running across the hill to their right. A boom exploded somewhere within the trees at the top of it.

  Grant pushed on the gas, and they moved away from the battle.

  Soon fields gave way to entrances and driveways to properties. They passed a sign near the road of one of them, which said the occupants would exchange fruit for meat and medical supplies.

  They arrived at a junction, this one with traffic lights. Each of them sighed slightly at the image of normality.

  “How far to the university?” said Sofia.

  “Maybe ten minutes, I think. It’s not far,” said Bass.

  When the light changed, Grant pushed down
on the gas. The bushes across the junction split open and, a creature, the size of a large dog, spilled out of the undergrowth and onto the concrete. The pickup jolted to a stop as they all looked in silence at the four-legged beasts, with the head of a rat and a torso covered in foot-long bony protrusions.

  It looked at them then roared, showing lionlike teeth.

  Grant slammed down on the gas and they shot forward towards the creature which equally ran towards them. He pulled on the steering wheel and they skidded as they turned to the right, but not without the creature clipping the back of the pickup, jarring them. They stayed on course and sped away.

  “What was that?” said Ben, looking out the rear cabin window. The thing wasn’t following.

  Grant wanted to give an answer. Any answer. But he just shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  Concrete sidewalks appeared, and they drove past suburban homes, many of which had boarded up windows and doors. A family walked with their children, then stopped when the pickup passed by. The parents had rifles strapped to their backs.

  “Get on the freeway. I think it’s the eight, should take us all the way to the base,” said Bass.

  Grant drove underneath it, then took a right and drove up onto the three-lane road. They all spotted the roadblock at the same time.

  “Keep going,” said Bass.

  Grant stopped the pickup in front of soldiers, two Humvees, and a tank. A female soldier walked up to them. Grant slid down the window.

  “You have to turn around, sir,” said the soldier.

  “Private?” said Bass. She bent slightly to see the passenger’s side. “I’m Sergeant Daniel Bass. I got separated from my squad yesterday, a few miles from here. These people saved me. I’m taking them back to HQ.”