“Yeah, SEAL would probably taste better to it than some old leathery army type.”
Everett slowly approached the hole and noticed ropes hanging down. This must have been some other team’s point of entry, but he couldn’t remember ever seeing it on the chart. Then he thought about Miss Dawes and her kid; this must have been the point where they had been taken into the tunnel. Everett tugged on the first rope and was satisfied it was secured well at the top, then he tested the second. Slowly Carl pulled himself up. When he was a foot from the top, he freed his automatic from its holster and peered over the top. He was looking into a kitchen. There were stainless steel counters, pots, pans, and dishes lying smashed and bent everywhere. He listened for any sign of movement, then sniffed. The odors of old grease and coffee assailed his nostrils. Then suddenly he heard it, a soft crunching sound he couldn’t place. As his eyes roamed over the remains of the kitchen, he froze. One of the animals was hunched in a corner near the stove, and it had a man and was slowly eating him. Everett let his eyes adjust for a moment, then made out a Channel 7 Minicam lying next to the former owner. Carl grimaced and carefully eased his nine millimeter back into his shoulder holster and removed a grenade from his web belt. He placed pressure on his boots and held himself in place as he quietly pulled the pin. He quickly rolled the round grenade over the broken floor, where it bounced twice and landed at the creature’s feet. As it tilted its head in curiosity, the grenade exploded. Everett had ducked down into the hole and was holding on tightly when the flash and loud boom shook dirt down on him and the others waiting in the tunnel.
He didn’t bother to explain to the major and the rest of the team as he scrambled up the rope again and peered over the flooring and into the smoke-filled kitchen. He looked through the swirling, acrid smoke caused by the grenade and at first only saw the damage it had caused to Miss Dawes’s kitchen. Then he saw movement. The creature was down but still alive. Shrapnel had found a weak spot somewhere on its armored body, but Carl didn’t know how seriously it was wounded. He reholstered his weapon to free his hands again and climbed the rest of the way up and gained the kitchen floor. He rolled as quietly as he could and pulled his automatic again. But just before he could fire, an angry scream filled the kitchen as a man with a giant butcher’s knife fell from the rafters onto the wounded animal. The beast roared and tried to stand, but its assailant plunged the knife again and again under its neck armor until the Talkhan finally collapsed from the shrapnel wounds and the plunging knife.
Everett was shocked when he saw the filthy and blood-covered man as he moaned loudly and then rolled off and lay spread-eagled on the damaged floor. Carl holstered his nine millimeter and knelt down beside the man and looked at him curiously. The T-shirt of the large, bearded man read KIRK OVER PICARD AND JANEWAY UNDER ME!
“Like your shirt,” Everett said, quickly checking the man’s wounds.
The animal grunted and lay still in the far corner, and Everett stood and walked over to it and, to be sure it was finally dead, kicked it. Then he looked at the remains of the Channel 7 cameraman and grimaced. He then moved his weapon from side to side, sweeping the area for anything that so much as moved. Satisfied, he whispered into his mike the all clear while assisting Hal Whikam to his feet.
“What happened up there?” Collins asked from below.
“Don’t let Ms. Dawes and the boy hesitate in the kitchen on their way through. It’s not pretty, looks like the Channel Seven camera jock wasn’t as fast as his reporter friend.”
One by one Everett helped the others into the kitchen of the Broken Cactus. Julie was the first up and saw the man lying against the stove breathing hard. He was bloody and cut in so many places she couldn’t believe it.
“Hal!” she screamed and ran to him. “Billy, Hal’s alive!” she called back over her shoulder. “Hal, oh, Hal… God, what happened to you?”
Hal opened his eyes and focused on Julie. He smiled at her and then Billy as he joined her.
“That was one tough motherfucker, Jules, I’ll tell you that,” Hal said weakly. “We fought back and forth down in those tunnels for what had to be the longest four hours of my freakin’ life. Then I made it back up here and the bastard had me cornered. Luckily for me, that reporter guy, you know, the one from Phoenix, Kashihara?” Hal grimaced in pain as he tried to raise his head. “He came in the diner screaming about being left behind.” Hal focused on Julie again after drifting for a moment. “Well, I guess you could say he saved my life. That monster thing went for him and the chickenshit bastard actually pushed his cameraman in front of him and ran. But he got his when he turned and another one of those ugly bastards got him and took him under. That gave me time to scramble up in the rafters, then Captain Marvel there chucks in a grenade and almost made mincemeat outa me.”
Julie hugged Hal and with Billy’s help assisted him to his feet, and they slowly made their way out of the kitchen.
“But I finally got that fucker,” Hal said with his arms around Julie and Billy. Hal gave one final look at the beast and shook his head admiringly. “What a tough SOB,” he mumbled.
Collins immediately ushered everyone into the dining room and then called the base camp, looking around as the others found places to sit and rest. He watched Julie as she went behind the bar and filled glasses full of ice and water and passed them around. As Jack listened to the report from the base camp, he was glad his remaining men had removed their earpieces and let them dangle as they removed gloves, helmets, and the new body armor that had saved most of their lives. Collins turned away while listening to the voice on the other end explaining the details of the loss of life belowground and at the base camp. Collins shook his head as he listened to the numbers. When he was done, he turned and slowly walked up to Everett, who was just staring out the window. The major took a deep breath when he saw that the big SEAL still had his radio on and his earpiece in. In exasperation Jack removed his helmet and took his gloves off and threw them inside.
“We don’t know for sure if she was one of the casualties, Carl,” he said softly. At first it didn’t look as if Everett was going to respond. Carl, for his part, was surprised that Collins had seen through his ruse with Lisa so quickly. But what did it matter?
“You didn’t get a chance to know her, Jack. Most people just looking at her would’ve thought she was just another dumb blond or some stupid crap like that. But she was smart.” Carl spit some dirt from his mouth. His voice lowered as he again looked out the window. “And brave? I’ve never known a braver woman. If the parent hit the base camp, she would have done her duty,” he said as he turned and faced Jack.
Collins patted him on the back and turned to the others. “They’re sending a Pave Low to pick us up. Is the way to the roof through there, Ms. Dawes? I came up the outside stairs earlier and I don’t fancy going out there and doing it again.”
“Yes, back through the kitchen,” Julie’s tired voice answered, and then she winced as Ryan applied ointment to the nasty cut running the entire length of her back.
“Don’t bother to hand out menus,” Everett said from the window, “Major, we’re about to have company.”
Collins ran to where Everett was looking out the window. Jack made no reaction for Julie’s and Billy’s sakes as he watched four or five waves of parting concrete and street asphalt head right for the Broken Cactus. Two zigzagged and crossed the road, sending up huge chunks of roadway as they crossed Main Street, then suddenly they swerved back toward them.
“Site One, Site One, we have company. We’re headed for the roof, repeat, we are headed for the roof,” Collins said as calmly as he could into the mike, then put his gloves back on. “Okay, kids, let’s head up. Ryan, you first, take the civilians…. Where is the other one?”
Everyone looked around, but Tony had disappeared.
“Don’t have time for this, let’s just hope he knows what he’s doing,” Collins said, as he placed his last magazine into his XM8.
The navy pilot led
the protesting Julie, Billy, and the wounded Hal to the stairs as they yelled about not leaving Tony. They were quickly followed by the remaining five Delta and Rangers. Collins called for Everett, who was still looking out the large dining-room window. Carl silently watched the advancing animals while shoving a new magazine into his own assault rifle, then he suddenly turned and dove as the floor exploded in the exact place he had been standing. He rolled and came up firing into the animal as it cleared the wall and floor. The rounds struck but only a few caused any noticeable damage.
The beast struck out and its claws sent Jack’s XM8 crashing against the wall. Then it quickly turned on Everett and swiped, catching him on the new vest. The nylon covering material separated easily, but then the steel-like claws struck the packed-abalone-shell case and ricocheted off. Still, Carl was thrown across the room, the rounds from his weapon stitching a pattern in the wooden ceiling and sending 5.56-mm rounds slamming into the headboard of Billy’s bed upstairs.
Now the Talkhan turned its full attention on Jack. He quickly pulled his personal combat knife from its scabbard and faced the inhuman form before him. The beast roared, shaking the remaining dishes and pans in the kitchen. Jack quickly glanced in the direction of Everett, who was just starting to regain his senses after striking the far wall.
The beast watched Jack, its brows arched to show the full glory of its yellow eyes, then it charged, head up and claws extended. Jack didn’t move at first. To a layman it would have seemed Collins was frozen in fear, but Jack had a mind that always planned three moves ahead. As the beast charged and swiped at Jack, he ducked, barely escaping being raked by the death-dealing talons. As he did so, he quickly brought his black-painted, stainless-steel-edged knife up and slashed at the creature’s leg tendons that were exposed when its leg muscles flexed. The Talkhan screamed in pain as the knife severed the tendon in its right knee joint. Before the beast could turn on Collins, he had come up behind it and instantly found a vulnerable spot in its massive shoulder armor. He quickly sank the blade in and out three times in succession, wounding the animal to the point it was delirious in pain and outraged at the assault.
Everett shook himself and looked about for his assault rifle. He found it three feet away.
Jack was surprised how quickly the animal recovered and regained its momentum. Instead of turning around to face its enemy, the beast quickly brought its tail up and slapped at Jack. The stinger caught in the front of his vest and pulled him down to the floor, slamming him into the bloodstained linoleum.
“Stay down, Jack!” Everett cried.
Collins quickly covered his head as the XM8 opened up.
Taking advantage of the animal’s distraction as Everett slammed rounds into it, Jack rolled free, dodging two quick stabs of the creature’s stinger, and recovered his own weapon. He opened up, adding his firepower to Everett’s. Somewhere in the firestorm of tracers and smoke, the animal dove back through the hole it had entered by. Jack stopped firing, then watched the SEAL as his weapon finally ran out of ammunition.
“What do you say we get some sun?” Jack asked, eyeing Everett closely.
“Let’s go,” he said, turning and quickly running for the kitchen and the safety of the roof.
As they broke free of the stairway and into the bright sunshine of the late afternoon, they saw the other members of the team firing their weapons over the false front of the building. Julie was holding Billy in her arms and had an arm around Hal as they huddled at the feet of Ryan as the flier fired one shot at a time from his nine-millimeter handgun.
Collins and Everett ran to the front where Ryan was standing and looked out over the small town. The creatures were everywhere, diving back into the ground, then surfacing a moment later.
The soldiers watched incredulously as round after round bounced from them and into the dirt or into a wall after slamming into the creatures’ armor.
“Shit,” Collins said under his breath.
Two loud explosions rocked the building as the Rangers tossed grenades over the side. A Delta sharpshooter brought one of the animals down with a perfect shot into one of its eyes. It stumbled and skidded into the side of the building. A Ranger popped up and threw another grenade down right next to the fallen beast and it went off, jolting the creature away from the wall. Other animals fell upon the still-smoldering carcass, tearing huge chunks of flesh from it, devouring their sibling.
Then, as suddenly as the attack began, it ended. The animals had stopped dead in their tracks. The only movement was a gentle swaying as though they were listening to music only they could hear.
The strange thing was the soldiers were hearing music, as the sound of the jukebox was coming from the barroom below. The animal’s landing against the building must have jarred it and shorted something out, and Collins shook his head as he watched the strange behavior of the beasts and listened to Guns N’ Roses singing “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door.”
“Things have taken a turn for the fucking surreal,” Jack said under his breath.
The others heard the music and watched the creatures as they swayed back and forth. The remaining troops looked from the Talkhans to each other. They were totally surrounded by the mass of animals, and everyone knew it was just a matter of time before they started to attack again.
The gathered survivors on the buildings’ roof may have thought the creatures were swaying to the soft rhythm of the song. But what had caught their attention were the minute vibrations coming from the desert valley. They were also picking up signs on the wind that humans couldn’t smell. It was the distinct odor of food, a lot of it. Also, an invisible wave was striking the animals that called them away. The male was aboveground and signaling in the center of the valley.
As those on the roof watched, all the animals save for one dove into the earth and started heading away from the town, at least ninety of the animals, Collins quickly counted. The one remaining had stopped swaying and was looking straight up at them. As they watched, a blackened tongue shot out of its mouth and it lowered itself closer to the ground.
“Son of a bitch is going to spring!” Collins shouted, taking aim with his weapon.
The animal crouched, gathering and bunching its muscles for the short leap to the rooftop. The huge tail coiled behind it for use in tandem with its legs to shoot itself toward its next feeding.
The men gathered quickly, raising their rifles, and a few pulled the pins on grenades.
“Get ready to repel boarders,” Ryan said, quoting the famous naval order, only half-jokingly.
The animal launched itself.
Things of a terrifying nature sometimes seem to happen as mere snapshots of the event, creating a slide show for the observers. None of the gathered soldiers would ever remember how the pickup truck had gotten so close without any of them seeing it or hearing it. And with that surreal slowness to it, they watched as the animal just cleared the ground and the front bumper struck it. The truck sent the beast in a headlong tumble ending in a crunching impact on the street, with the pickup careening into the Ice Cream Parlor. The creature hit in the middle of Main Street and skidded. It was hurt, but had not been killed. It slowly gained its feet and looked at its attacker and roared, then started forward, slowly making its way to its assailant. But it never made it. None of the people on the rooftop of the Broken Cactus saw or even heard the scream and thump of the hovering air force Pave Low III as the twenty-millimeter cannon at its rear ramp opened fire, sending two thousand rounds hurtling at the creature. The weapon was fed ammunition by a giant hopper attached next to it and wasn’t going to run out soon. The large bullets struck the animal, sending it forward until it slammed into the protruding back end of the truck. Stuck there, it was slowly pounded to nothing by the Pave Low and her Gatling gun.
Five minutes later several happy men pulled the drunken Tony from the front seat of his battered pickup. He’d received a rather large cut to his forehead after smashing into the beast, but smiled as Julie handed him a
fresh bottle she’d grabbed on her way back down from the roof. She hugged him and admonished the older man for disappearing on them and for doing something as stupid as saving them, but Ryan pulled her away as everyone to a man wanted to pat him on the back.
Only after they had been loaded up on the huge Pave Low did Tony venture any comment.
“I guess I don’t have a truck anymore, Miss Dawes, so I can drink all I want,” he said, looking at the smiling Delta and Ranger troops.
Farbeaux waited for the big helicopter to leave the roof of the café and then made his way out of the Texaco station where he had holed up while the town was under attack. He was the only one of his team to make it out of the tunnel and he felt lucky at best. He had a canteen full of the eggs of the creature, but he wouldn’t even be able to sell that if he couldn’t leave the town.
He took the last swallows from a bottle of warm Coke, then slowly made his way toward one of the six remaining helicopters lining the road across town.
The Frenchman’s liftoff was noticed by the orbiting AWACS, but it was paid no mind as it was thought to be an army Kiowa helping to evacuate the remaining ground teams.
Colonel Henri Farbeaux had managed to survive the impossible once again, only now he was on his own and dangerous as he was in a flight for his life.
Jack, Everett, Ryan, Mendenhall, and the remaining tunnel team were on a Pave Low III that had diverted to Chato’s Crawl on its way to refuel. As medics started treating the wounded and Ryan helped Julie, Billy, and Tony, who in turn assisted Hal into a corner out of the way, Jack was surprised to see Virginia Pollock standing before him with a grave look on her face.
“We heard about the base camp,” Jack said, tiredly looking from Virginia to Carl.
“That’s not it,” she said, leaning down so he could hear over the turbines. “We finished the analysis on the creature’s exoskeleton, Jack. Your plan won’t work. No matter what weapon you use, it won’t penetrate their armor. Unless they are right on top or just below an underground detonation, the heat and X-rays won’t kill them.”
Event: A Novel Page 42