Mike pulled both sleeping bags from where they were wedged into the window and rolled Jenn’s up tightly, strapping it in place. He was pulling out the heavy tarp when he heard Kari call him.
He walked over to her. She had both hands on Nathan’s shoulders, and was obviously holding the boy back. “What’s going on?” Mike asked, and then he looked. “Holy fuck.”
“That’s a bad word,” Nathan reprimanded, but there was no heat in the accusation.
It was the biggest worm ever. And there was absolutely no way it was indigenous to Earth. It made the hairs on Mike’s arms stand up, pebbled by gooseflesh. It was about eight feet long and four feet around, grayish in color. Rings of muscle lined its skin and it undulated repulsively, its head swaying as though it were trying to scent the air. As Mike and Kari stared at it, it moved toward them. Mike instinctively stepped back, pulling Kari and Nathan with him.
The worm stopped, and then it sank into the ground. It didn’t dig or tunnel its way down – it simply sank. As they watched, the grayish color gradually faded and the worm took on the colors of the ground – the white of the snow, the brown of wet leaves and the green of the few sparse patches of grass. When he blinked, Mike could no longer see the beast unless he concentrated directly on where it was.
“Let’s move,” Mike said abruptly, turning back toward the SUV and pulling Kari with him. She held tightly to Nathan as the three of them made their way back to the vehicle.
“Two minutes, guys, and we’re moving out!” Mike called, his voice carrying the parental tone that brooked no argument. Kari helped Nathan put on his backpack while she assured him several times that yes, she had seen it, and yes, it was the biggest worm ever.
All of the children were out of the vehicle, standing around. Mike finished rolling the tarp and distributing the supplies, saddling Jenn with her own sleeping bag, backpack, and Barbie case. He took Ariel from Jenn’s arms, planning for Kari to carry the tiny girl when he noticed Kayli hopping from foot to foot. Mike looked down at her feet and flushed in anger. What the hell?
“What kind of mother would let her kid wear sandals in January?” he muttered to Kari, his voice angry.
“I know, right,” Kari murmured back.
“She likes Dora the Explorer,” Nathan explained helpfully, not bothering to lower his voice. “And she’s spoiled rotten. Even Miss Annie says so.”
Kayli scowled and punched Nathan in the chest. Kari grabbed Nathan before he could hit her back. “No hitting!” she exclaimed. “I know you both learned that already. No hitting!”
“She hit me first!” Nathan howled indignantly.
“Enough!” Mike snapped the word, and there was sudden silence. He stood still for a moment, trying to control his temper, and when he spoke again, his voice was calmer. The children weren’t fooled, though; even Ariel remained silent, staring up at him. “We need to start our hike,” he said. “We have a long way to go, so we need to get a move on.”
Mike handed Ariel to Kari to hold for a moment and pulled on his backpack, which held the majority of their supplies and food, in addition to the weapons. He then picked Kayli up and lifted her over his head, settling her on his shoulders. She giggled happily and kicked him like a pony. Mike went pale and grabbed her legs. “No!” he growled, and she stopped. He picked up Anthony and set him on Kari’s shoulders, taking Ariel from her. The girl was a tiny wisp of a thing. He could carry her in his arms ... for a while, anyway.
Stephen stepped up in front of Mike, turned his back, and wordlessly held his arms up over his head. Mike was surprised – the boy already carried a full backpack. He set Ariel on Stephen’s shoulders with a grateful nod, and they all started walking south along Dixie Highway.
Mike pushed them hard. By noon, it stopped being a fun hike or an adventure and became a misery. Several of the children were whining or crying when Mike finally called a halt for break. He set Kayli down and shifted out of his backpack, wincing in pain. He pulled the heavy tarp out and unrolled it, giving them a dry place to sit. His movements were stiff. Kari watched, but didn’t say anything. She gave him two ibuprofen, which he took and swallowed dry. Jenn changed the babies while Kari started handing out lunch. Gran’s food was going fast. Kari pulled some granola bars from her pack and distributed them with the pork chops and cold hot dogs. Mike passed out bottles of Gatorade, telling the children to share with their neighbors. They ate in silence, all of them cold, tired and miserable.
“We could sing the furrer song,” Nathan offered helpfully. Mike smiled at the boy, but shook his head.
“How about we save that for when we get there, buddy?” he suggested gently. Nathan nodded.
They bagged their trash and left it on the side of the road. The children wandered a bit, some moving into the trees to relieve themselves, some just standing around waiting to move again. Mike rolled up the tarp, stuffing it back into the loops below his backpack. He looked around, doing a quick headcount as he picked up his heavy pack and buckled it in front.
“Where’s Nathan?” he asked, lifting Kayli and putting her on his shoulders.
“He was right –”
Nathan shrieked, the sound carrying from the trees just in front of them. Mike ran toward the sound, something in his gut promising him this time it wasn’t the garrulous little boy’s theatrics. It was a shriek of pure terror.
“Get me out, get me ouuuut!” Nathan sobbed when Mike and Kari pushed through the trees. The children crowded around, staring in shock. Nathan was ankle-deep in … what? It didn’t look like anything was holding the boy.
“Oh, Christ,” Mike muttered, realizing why the boy was stuck. “Okay, Nathan, don’t worry, we’re here now. We’re going to get you out of there, okay, buddy?”
Nathan swallowed his sobs and nodded his head. Mike pulled Kayli off his shoulders and handed her unceremoniously to Jenn, who staggered under the child’s weight. Mike dropped his backpack and began digging through it for the rope. Frustrated, he turned the backpack over, dumping all of its contents onto the ground, finding the neatly looped nylon rope at the bottom of the bag. He quickly tied a bowline knot to ensure the loop he made wouldn’t tighten and walked over to Nathan. He stopped about six feet from the boy. He could see the ground in front of him and he stopped dead. It was ... throbbing and quivering, like camouflaged gelatin.
He shook himself. “Okay, Nathan, you need to put this around you, under your arms,” He tossed the rope gently. Nathan caught it on the second try and put it over his head, tucking his arms down.
“Good deal,” Mike said, trying to smile reassuringly. He carried the other end of the rope and looped it around the trunk of a thick pine tree.
“You ever play tug-of-war?” Mike asked.
Nathan grinned, his eyes lighting in excitement. “Yes!” he exclaimed. “And my team always wins, cuz I’m the strongest boy!”
“Okay, well you have to be super strong now, Nathan, because I’m going to be tugging on you,” Mike said. He tightened the rope, expecting the resistance as he pulled the boy free.
Only … that wasn’t what happened.
Nathan didn’t come free. He didn’t move at all, although his face showed the strain of the rope pulling under his arms. Mike looked over at Kari, and she wordlessly handed Anthony to Stephen, moving behind Mike and taking up the rope. She wrapped it around her body twice and nodded at him when she was ready. Mike began pulling again, the cords in his neck standing out. He braced a foot up on the tree and pulled with his legs and back. Kari dug her feet in hard to anchor him, pulling with all of her weight as well.
Nathan screamed in pain and began sobbing earnestly.
Mike and Kari eased up on the rope and looked at each other. It should have worked. Mike glared at the ground around Nathan.
“It got solid,” Stephen said quietly. “When you were pulling, it got solid, and then it went back to Jell-o when you stopped.”
Mike nodded grimly at Stephen’s words.
“Don’t
leave me here!” Nathan sobbed hysterically.
Mike walked closer to the boy and knelt down, looking him in the eye from the edge of the now-solid mass. “I will not leave you here,” he promised. Nathan calmed, still crying softly. Mike turned back abruptly and handed the end of the rope to Stephen, lifting Anthony off the boy’s shoulders and setting him down on the ground beside Kari. The red-haired boy stared at Nathan, a puzzled frown on his baby face. “I’ll give you a leg up to that branch,” Mike told Stephen, nodding at the thick branch of a deciduous tree that stretched out over the trapped boy. “I want you to crawl out until you’re right on top of Nathan, straight on top of him, okay? And then loop the rope and come back. Do not pull, you got it?”
“Got it,” Stephen said, moving over to the tree Mike indicated. Before Mike could clasp his hands together, Stephen was up the tree and halfway out on the thick branch. He looped the rope over and kept hold of the other end, climbing down the tree as quickly as he’d climbed up. He grinned at the look on Mike’s face. This kid was turning out to be quite helpful!
Mike accepted the end of the rope and stepped as close to the gelatinous ground as he dared. He wrapped the rope around his body as Kari had done, and then looked over to Kari. Stephen picked Anthony up while Kari walked over to Mike and took up the slack, wrapping her end of the rope around the tree and locking her arms. She braced a foot against the tree as Mike had done earlier and nodded to him. “Ready,” she said quietly. Mike wrapped the slack of the rope around his wrists and began to slowly pull, taking baby steps backward as Nathan’s body began to rise, inch by inch, from the gelatinous mass.
They were getting there. Mike was just starting to hope they had it. He glanced down at the predatory ground just in time to see it solidify and then ... suck. Nathan shrieked as he was pulled back down, the ground now up to his knees.
Mike released the rope and ran his fingers through his hair, pacing furiously. “What the fuck!” he yelled to the worm. “You want a Big Mac, or you want a chicken nugget? Trade, you son-of-a-bitch!”
Then, he walked right onto the gelatin, reaching down for Nathan. The boy reached up, not mentioning that Mike used two really bad words, and Mike bent further, wrapping his arms around the boy. He tried to stand with Nathan, but Nathan didn’t budge. The ground under Mike’s feet was as solid as concrete.
Mike pulled until Nathan began sobbing again, and then he knelt and kissed the boy on the forehead. “Don’t you worry, Nathan. We aren’t done yet. We’ll get you, buddy.”
Nathan nodded through his tears. “It burns,” he whispered to Mike.
Mike blanched at the words, his eyes flying to Kari’s. She hadn’t heard the little boy’s words, but she could tell by his expression the news was not good.
Mike stood up and backed away from the ground, which immediately liquefied into gelatin again. He pulled the Ruger from the small of his back. “Okay, everybody, you need to put your hands over your ears and close your eyes,” he ordered. Nathan’s eyes got huge, but he obeyed, as did the rest of the children. Stephen carried Anthony several feet away, Jenn following with Kayli and little Sasha picking up Ariel.
Mike shot ten rounds in a circle around Nathan, emptying the pistol. He watched in disbelief as the gelatin absorbed each round, quivering as the bullets hit. He didn’t hear some of the children start to cry. He knelt down, looking for blood or any sign at all the beast was injured. Nathan took his hands off his ears and looked up at Mike hopefully. “Is it dead?”
“I don’t think so, buddy,” Mike said softly. The ground quivered abruptly, and Mike hoped for a moment he had wounded the damned thing. Then Nathan sank down to his thighs. He gasped in surprise and pain. His face was already dirty and tear-stained, but he looked up at Mike. His little face tightened in resolve, as though he had all the confidence in the world Iron Mike would get him out.
“It’s eating him!” Kayli screamed, sobbing. Mike realized with a start that all of the children were standing on the snow covered soil.
He looked at Kari in alarm. “Get them onto the blacktop!” he ordered harshly. “Everyone! Everyone get on the road – you do NOT go into the woods for anything, you understand? Not to pee, not to poop, nothing!”
The children shrank back from the anger in Mike’s voice, and Kari quickly uncoiled herself from the rope. She, Stephen, and Jenn herded all of the children back to the blacktop. Kari frowned, and Mike was pretty sure she was going to have words with him soon. Mike didn't like yelling at her, and he was fully prepared to apologize. On the other hand … there was never a cause more just.
“Is it eating me, Iron Mike?” Nathan asked quietly, his breath coming in hitches.
“No,” Mike snapped immediately, his attention turning back to the boy. “I’m not going to let that happen.” He moved back onto the gelatinous surface, which hardened under his feet. He knelt down beside Nathan, stroking the hair back from the boy’s sweaty forehead. He waited several minutes, hoping the mass would soften to try to take him – if it did, and he was fast enough, he could get Nathan out. Nothing happened. The mass stayed as solid as the ground itself. Mike drew his hunting knife from its hilt and stabbed into the ground. The knife sunk to the hilt. Mike twisted it, and then tried to draw it toward him. It was like trying to cut steel. He drew the knife out, glancing at the dulled edge and stuck it back on his hip. He sat beside the beast that held Nathan, while the little boy cried softly.
Several minutes later, the ground around Nathan sucked again, and the boy sunk to his waist. His eyes got wide with fear … and with genuine pain.
“It’s burning!” Nathan sobbed. “It hurts, Iron Mike!”
“Where does it hurt, Nathan?” Mike asked, his voice shaking so badly he could barely get the words out.
“My legs, and now my tummy!” Nathan gasped. “It’s getting hotter! Make it stop!”
Nathan began screaming again, this time more from pain than terror. Mike stood, pacing angrily. He ran over to a pine tree and jumped, grabbing one of the limbs and pulling hard. The limb cracked and Mike fell, rolling back up onto his feet with the make-shift javelin.
Nathan watched, crying, as Mike stabbed the viscous surface again and again. It was like stabbing a giant gummy bear.
Tears of frustration and grief welled in Mike’s eyes, and he brushed them away impatiently.
“Make it stop!” Nathan sobbed. “Please, it hurts, it hurts! Make it stop, Iron Mike!”
The realization of the only option left to him hit Mike in the gut like a lead-filled sucker punch. He gasped and backed away, staring in horror.
“It burns!” Nathan cried, sobbing in hiccups now. The boy was in exquisite pain. Mike was out of options, but his brain refused to consider his only choice.
“Please, God, no,” Mike prayed softly. His eyes locked on Nathan’s face, the boy’s baby features twisted in pain from a predator literally eating him alive.
Mike stared for another moment, praying for a miracle he knew wasn’t coming. Finally, he stood numbly and walked over to his overturned backpack. He found the takedown kit and screwed each piece of the bow together, his fingers moving deftly while he stared at nothing. He strung the bow and tested the string, standing again, and pulling an arrow from his quiver. He nocked the arrow and turned to Nathan, seeing the little boy’s eyes grow wide. He raised the bow, pulling the string back in one fluid motion, and aimed. He exhaled, and released.
Nathan’s screams died, and the forest was silent.
January 4.
Scientist-Farmer
Scientist-Farmer stilled. The images from the Spotter played before him, the sounds of the creature in pain as horrifying and immediate as if he were watching in corporeal form. The day before, he sent the Spotter to follow the animal he wounded. He told himself it was a matter of scientific study and curiosity, but he knew it was really because he was the one who had hurt the beast. The animal wasn’t sapient; there was no way to convey to it that Scientist-Farmer regretted the accident.<
br />
He sent a thought to the Spotter and the images started again, playing more slowly. The animal’s youngling screamed in pain, the sound disturbing Scientist-Farmer to his core. The adult animal’s roar of frustration was equally disturbing, and the sounds he made held the most rudimentary characteristics of language. Scientist-Farmer set one of his brains to work on translation as he continued watching the images. That the animals could talk greatly troubled Scientist-Farmer. Communicating was one of the thirty-six requirements of Classification Eight sapience. If these animals – humans, Scientist-Farmer recalled, glancing at the translation image as the word was pushed into his mind – if these humans reached Classification Eight sapience, then the harvesting of the planet must stop immediately.
Scientist-Farmer’s attention returned to the Spotter. He slowed the images and sped them up, noting each guttural grunt and pitch of the humans’ sounds. The youngling’s cries were obviously distress and pain, but the adult human’s sounds were more complex. There was anger and grief, as well as distress. Scientist-Farmer frowned. The human pair had a large litter – was this youngling somehow superior to the others?
The images slowed to a crawl as Scientist-Farmer reached the point that most concerned him. Human-Male used a primitive weapon and killed his own youngling. The Mother was relieved; the animal’s squeals of distress were troubling to her as well, even as she had done as nature intended and taken in the protein to nourish her young.
Scientist-Farmer stopped the images at the moment that most intrigued him. When Human-Male stood, his weapon enabled, the expression on his face – there. He froze the image. The look on the human’s face changed drastically. It seemed almost as though Human-Male lost all emotion. It seemed as though he … distanced himself from the task. That was another of the requirements of Classification Eight sapience.
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