by C. J. Sears
The intercom buzzed, signaling the arrival of Simon and Hartfield. She looked at the monitor that displayed the interior of the automated decontamination chamber. Both men were dressed in their uniform blues, as she’d requested after their fumbling attempts to make the work environment more casual. Simon had attempted to cover his bald spot with cheap spray-on, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. Hartfield’s mustache and goatee had grown into a beard overnight, consuming his face. It pained her to endure their vanities, but these two men were the best assistants she’d ever hired.
Hartfield entered first, tablet in hand. The creature in the container struck the side of the glass, then retreated none the worse for it. His eyes fixated on the parasite and he stooped low to examine the abnormal creature. Simon followed suit, his fingertips already dragging across his own device in excitement. Conroy observed them from a distance, waited for them to detail their initial assessment of the specimen.
She didn’t have to wait long. “This is inconceivable, Director Conroy: an endoparasite with extensive outer mobility,” said Hartfield. “I never would’ve guessed that such a thing existed in this area of the world.” The parasite shifted its attention to him, poised to launch another assault. Conroy fought back the notion that if the glass were thinner it might succeed. That level of strength wouldn’t be possible for an organism of that size. Even insects capable of lifting several times their own body weight couldn’t bust through glass.
“It seems overly aggressive,” said Simon, reiterating Conroy’s earlier thoughts. “Perhaps it feels threatened and its self-preservation instinct is compelling it to attack as a means to curtail predators?”
Conroy nodded. “That’s been my inclination. It’s already made two escape attempts. I get the impression that it desires a new host. Given the unknowns of the specimen, I’m hesitant to estimate just how long it can exist without sustenance.” She unfolded her arms, checked her watch. “But taking into consideration the acceleration of its sour mood in little more than a thirty minute period, I would wager that it’s becoming desperate. We have one, maybe two more days before it starves.”
“What’s the plan? Throw in some rats or maybe carrion?” asked Hartfield.
She shook her head. “We’re not going to do anything that rudimentary. It’s likely this creature was feasting on the spinal fluids of a human host.” She tapped the glass. It hissed once more. “No, this thing is a nightmare that I don’t believe we want to take lightly. We’ll run the gambit on this one, see how it responds to various stimuli.”
The parasite struck the glass again. Conroy watched as the container slid half an inch toward the edge of the table. She pressed against it with her palm, pushing the tank back into place. When she removed her hand, she saw the creature perched against the glass, tendrils working like gnashing teeth. She had the sense that it was sizing her up and decided that she had another phone call to make.
“Better post a guard,” she said, turning about-face and excusing herself from the room. Her assistants ignored her as they continued to observe the parasite. Fine, if that thing got loose it would be on their heads rather than hers. Babysitting them wasn’t part of the job description, although they were the best employees she had. And as threatening as it was, how much damage could a little critter like that do in a place as secure as this? She didn’t want to find out but for the moment she left it in their hands.
She walked back to her office. She drew the blinds shut, then dialed the number and held the phone up to her ear. For the second time, she glanced at her watch. She was probably going to catch them in their daily report, interrupt their routine. They would be upset, she was sure, but to hell with waiting, this was urgent.
As the ringing stopped and a stern voice on the other end answered, Conroy had a feeling that her contacts in Washington would be very interested in what she’d learned.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Craig James Sears Jr. is a graduate of Arkansas Tech University where he earned a Bachelor’s Degree of Arts in Creative Writing. When he’s not writing fiction, he runs a weekly blog about his work and his faith. Currently, he happily resides in the boondocks of the American South with his father and his pets.
For additional information about the author and supplementary material for his books, please visit this site and subscribe:
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Table of Contents
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
Benefactor
Arrival
Local Color
Message in a Dream
Buried
Coffee and Killers
Crossroads
The Trials
Interview
Glitch in the System
Breach Their Flesh
The Damned
Under Siege
Separate Ways
Containment
A Heart of Darkness
The Evils of This World
The Box