“Hmm,” was the answer I got. Sleep had claimed her ahead of me.
Morning found me lying down, awakened by the smell of breakfast. And coffee. I looked around and found Henry on watch duty while Cooper was sleeping. I stood up, still groggy. I needed more sleep.
“Morning everybody,” I said as I made my way to the bathroom. I did notice that a lot of frozen meat was on the sink and Jen was cooking a lot of food. Plates of fried chicken, fish, and beef were all laid out on the table.
“This is breakfast? It’s a lot!” I told Jen as I went back to the kitchen.
“Nope,” she answered as she kissed me. “Henry advised cooking the frozen meat now while we still have power and gas. He believes the grid will eventually shut down and we can’t afford to let it all go to waste.”
“Good thinking,” I said. “You already ate, then?”
“Everybody did, sleepyhead. Except you. Stan awoke already, by the way. Weak, but conscious. Says his right side isn’t cold anymore, but a bit numb. Promptly went back to sleep after eating.”
“That’s excellent news! I’ll grab a bite myself,” I replied. I looked at my watch. It was nine-thirty in the morning. I ate at the table but brought my coffee with me as I went to Henry.
“They’re gone?” I inquired.
“I guess so,” he answered. “Cooper told me he saw them moving in the direction of the highway at around five-thirty. I guess the subdivision is now clear but I think the casualties from last night were terrible. I doubt if any survived in the houses along the road and those within the hunting radius of those creatures. If there are survivors, they must be evacuating through the woods right now. Though I didn’t see anybody.”
“At least they’re gone. For now. Last night must have been really bad for those who remained. Even our street had those two skulkers. I guess they checked every nook and cranny of the subdivision. Those which showed inhabitants. By the way, Jen told me Stan’s now conscious.”
“Yes, I checked and he probably didn’t suffer any rib fractures. Otherwise, he would have been crying in pain the moment he woke up. The numbness could be a side-effect of the bizarre coldness he suffered. But he’ll be up and mobile within the day.”
“So, what do we do now?” I asked. That question had been bugging me since I woke up.
“Honestly, I have no idea. My instincts tell me this is now hostile territory, but without more information, I can’t suggest a definite course of action. The best option so far is to stay put unless something happens which pushes us out in the open,” he replied after a few moments of reflection. “Stan and Cooper will probably want to return to their unit. The military mindset.”
“You think the area between here and the town is overrun by these creatures?
“Could be. But this morning, I couldn’t hear the cannon fire anymore. The town could be gone, or our forces there beat them back. But even so, that’s only a breather.”
“I think I might have an idea of what these creatures are,” I said.
He looked at me with genuine interest and surprise.
“Really? Wait, don’t tell me everything yet. That’s for everybody. Just a short version. Enough to whet my sudden curiosity.”
12
Not a Simple Matter
I told him my observations and conclusions, though I emphasized it was all based on the declaration we’d all heard. Our conversation was conducted in tones as low as we could manage. The subject was unbelievable already, all by itself.
“That theory does explain the supernatural character of the beasts and everything we’ve observed so far. But give me a moment to think about it first; the implications are a lot bigger than you think. I’ve experienced heavy doses of the political and bureaucratic way of thinking, here and abroad. And it could be a very dangerous way of decision making, especially for small fry like us,” he warned, the face serious, extremely worried, even.
“Well, cryptozoologists must be beside themselves with joy,” I remarked, trying to lighten his mood. He just smiled and nodded.
“Okay, here’s the deal. Just tell them anything of help in destroying them. No mention of the Mesopotamian underworld, named demons, and creatures of that reality. Good God! This is going to be a genuine double SHTF situation,” he said.
“Why? Shouldn’t people know?” I asked, mystified by the request.
“If you were able to come to that conclusion, others will too, both friendly and hostile. Hear me out first. The government might or might not come to the same conclusion right now, even if they have more data and information. And believe me, they do. It’s the analysis of the available information, and the ensuing response plan is which sometimes fucked up. One plus one sometimes results in five as the answer. Not an encouraging truth, though the supernatural does not lend itself quickly to acceptance as the prevailing reality. Especially the religious beliefs of an ancient and extinct civilization,” Henry commented.
“Almost two thousand years, actually. And that span covers several empires and kingdoms which all believed in the same thing, or in variations of the main religious theme,” I corrected.
“So, an unbelievable number of souls in that dimension or realm, all now given an opportunity to manifest themselves among the living,” he mused.
“Depends on their ruler or master. But essentially that’s it,” I replied.
“Crap. That’s a lot of foot soldiers. Unbelievably difficult to kill foot soldiers. Unfortunately, the usual thinking in the rarefied air of politics and military decision-making is to use what worked before. Not a very good solution to an extremely unconventional event such as what’s happening. People could eventually come to their senses—but what I fear is that others, aside from our country, might form a more accurate conclusion ahead of our government,” explained Henry. “And the knowledge might prove to be a danger to you, as people might not want that information to spread.”
“No common sense? Though I fail to grasp the danger to myself,” I ventured.
“You’ll understand it after this discussion. Believe me, common sense has almost the status of unobtainium up there, and frightened people usually don’t make good decisions,” he answered. “Now, let’s assume this bizarre phenomenon had something to do with the Pine Valley disaster. And the way I see it, whatever happened there is spreading. Quite fast too. Only a day to spread from South Dakota to Montana.”
“I expect other states would be similarly affected. It will spread, and eventually its effects will be felt worldwide. Almost the entire continental United States and half of Canada in probably three days,” he added.
“I didn’t think of that,” I confessed.
“Don’t blame yourself. It’s only because of the way my brain is wired. By now, other world powers, even friend and allies alike, would be wondering why the terrorist incident had not been contained. The number of men and amount of material I think are being poured into the region are enough to raise a lot of whitened eyebrows,” he smiled. “Foreign operatives must be flooding into nearby states trying to find what exactly is going on. A quite natural state of affairs. We’re the most capable and powerful nation on Earth. A lot of eyes are on us. It’s fortunate that the interference with signal transmissions would affect not only us, but also the communications devices of these observers. But I doubt if traveling back to an area with signal reception would be easy for these agents either. The roads would be clogged with evacuees or military traffic. Add to that the speed by which the interference is spreading.”
“But I don’t think the conditions now prevailing could be kept under wraps for long,” I commented.
“No, it can’t be hidden forever. What’s happening is too big. When the signal disturbance affects New York, the global economy will grind to a halt. That will convince even the densest brain that something disastrous is happening in the good U.S. of A. What worries me is if people begin to have an idea of what actually is going on and accept what you told me as the truth; then guess what wi
ll happen?” Henry asked, looking at me.
“War? Or the arrival of foreign troops on U.S. soil against these creatures?”
“I wish. By the time foreign governments get accurate information, the disasters and its attendant problems would be so big and well-known that every power on Earth would probably decide on only one solution,” the professor answered in a resigned tone. “Why would they send their troops and military hardware when they know it wouldn’t do squat against what that Pines Valley opening is spouting out? By that time, every nation in this world will have one thing, and only one thing, in their minds – to stop the incursion from spreading and wiping out human civilization. Guess their common solution again?”
“Oh, fuck!” I involuntarily exclaimed as the implications of the scenario hit me. I think I paled a little. “A nuclear attack?”
“Plural, Eric. Attacks. Even from friends and allies. Possibly a coordinated action arising from shared information between and among themselves. It’ll be similar to burning a friendly neighbor’s house down to create a firebreak against a raging forest fire.”
“Shit!”
“I am not worried about it actually. I doubt if ICBMs and nuclear-capable aircraft could penetrate the expanding field which I believe extends up to the upper atmosphere. They’ll all rust to pieces before reaching their targets. The sensitive electronic systems would probably be fried before the rust takes effect,” said Henry.
“So why tell me something which won’t be a danger anyway?” I asked, feeling like a student all over again.
“Because that’s what our civilian and military planners will anticipate. But in that situation, a nuclear attack by American forces against American soil is quite possible, as a final desperate measure and to preempt any unilateral action by terrified countries. The nuclear launches will also target areas they would classify as infected. All to stop the spread of those coming over from whatever hellish dimension they’re coming from. They won’t probably use ICBMs. The launch signatures could trigger an automatic response from other countries. Air-launched in all probability. Though I doubt if it would work. For the same reason as in the foreign attack scenario,” Henry said.
“In that event, where’s the danger?” I asked again. I was getting tired of the way he was presenting the problem – “this scenario… but it won’t work.” I did appreciate much later his method. It was calculated to stimulate thought and at the same time, internally resolve the unmentioned arguments of the listener.
“Fallout. Massive nuclear fallout. It will have the same effect of pronouncing Doomsday on mankind. And where before we were faced with one disaster of unbelievable magnitude, we’ll have two. Nuclear weapons are tricky devices. Modern ones are very complicated pieces of equipment. Triple redundancy systems are the norm. My fear is that once the onboard systems detect degradation of internal technologies after launch, including arming and targeting subsystems, it might have an automatic detonation precaution,” the man explained.
And he still hadn’t finished.
“We would have killed off a lot of people, destroyed substantial available food sources and arable land, polluted water sources, and invited the onset of a nuclear winter. And for what? Personally, I doubt if a nuclear attack would work on supernatural beings. The dogs we killed were just their pets in the scheme of things. We haven’t seen the capability of the enemy yet. And honestly, how can one kill a spirit? I doubt if any existing belief system can deal with those beings you mentioned. If they can, good. Though I guess it would entail a gauntlet of sorts, making it past whatever monsters they have in their inventory. Or can one get rid of a creature actually rooted in another reality? Wouldn’t it just come back? Tell me that.”
I didn’t know the answer to the questions he raised.
But one thing was clear.
The on-going and spreading disaster was going to have men’s bungling hands in it. And therefore, it was bound to get worse.
Much worse.
13
Is There a War On?
“Everything is going to Hell and it’s all still politics?” I remarked with incredulity. Well, I admit I was a bit naive. But I would have thought the specter of the Apocalypse, or total annihilation for those who don’t believe in that, would shock even the greediest man into a bit of common sense.
“It is what it is. I believe the Germans called it Realpolitik. Self-interest. Though I doubt if they realized the concept would be widely practiced on the individual level,” answered Henry.
“How come you know these things? From what I have seen, you’re a military man yourself. Highly trained and with experience in command and strategy,” I asked, finally unable to control myself.
“Was involved in it. Not only the military aspect. It was obvious, wasn’t it? Well, I tried. Being an easy-going chemistry professor was the life I wanted to live. No stress, no life-and-death decisions, no killing. I was already enjoying retirement and teaching, you know? Then these horror rejects had to come and spoil it. Financially, I really didn’t need the work. But as I said, I love teaching non-lethal information. It’s knowledge, a very precious commodity. Imparting it to a new generation was a dream job. On what I did before, it’s better if you don’t know anything about it. You know that tired old cliche? If I told you, I would have to kill you? That doesn’t work for me. It’s more like – if I tell you, somebody else is going to come and kill you. People will find out. They eventually do.”
“You are really scary when you talk like that, do you know that?” I said.
“I know. A bit of advice on spooks and state-sponsored killers. The most softly-spoken one in the room would be the most dangerous of the bunch. But enough of my past. It’s a road I don’t want to remember, though the training and experience do come handy in times like this clusterfuck. Please consider my request. At least think of the possible danger to yourself and Jen.”
I thanked Henry and sat down at the table. He did have a point. The government probably knew about it already. And mouthing off about the supernatural side of things was bound to get me jailed or committed as crazy, a nutjob. Or it’d give foreign agents something to start with in their assessments. Even some people on our side who knew what was happening were bound to hunt me down just to keep my mouth shut.
Henry was right. But I could tell people how to fight back, if they still didn’t know how. I looked at Jen. She was still busy. Foods that had cooled were already in kitchen aluminum wraps. Five backpacks, even the old ones I’d used way back in high school, were laid out on the floor near her. She’d also found three water bottles, the ones Dad and I used in hiking and fishing trips. Two plastic ones were there too.
“Jen, what’s all with the backpacks?” I asked, though I thought I knew.
“Two for Stan and Cooper when they try to get back to their unit. The rest for us in case we need to leave in a hurry. Food, water, some regular medications for headaches and allergies, bandages and such, though it’s basic first-aid stuff for the most part. Your Mom keeps an impressive medicine cabinet. Most of it is OTC, but still… pain ointments, hydrocortisone creams, vitamins, even re-hydration salts,” Jen remarked.
“Well, I did tell you she had more brains than me. It’s practical preparation. There’s only two of us, and it wouldn’t do to go out in the middle of the night just to look for an open pharmacy or store for headache meds,” I answered.
“No wonder I like her. You do have to prepare spare clothes for your pack. Don’t forget toothbrushes and toothpaste too. And a shaver. You know I don’t like stubble. Pricks my skin.”
“Ma’am. Yes, Ma’am,” I answered.
“And give the guys some clothes and underwear. They all need a change of clothes. And a bath. All of you. You’re all starting to be skunky-like.”
I smiled wanly, though the mention of Mom had got me worrying again. It’d been two days. Deep inside was the feeling that she’d gone, but my emotions said there was still a chance. Until I saw her body or somebo
dy told me they saw her die, I would keep on believing that somewhere, somehow, she’d found safe shelter.
Then I remembered the pistol.
“You know how to use a Glock 17, Jen? It’s for your use. That one beside the shotgun?”
“Is a steak going to be my lunch? Well, if you have a Winchester Model 1895, I could clean it up for you. Not to mention a 1911A1, a Ruger SP 101, even a Garand, if you need me to do some disassembly. It’s a long list, Eric.”
I guess the expression on my face was telling.
“For God’s sake, Eric. I grew up on a farm. In Kansas. And Daddy was a veteran who bored us to tears with his deep recon stories.”
I held up my hands.
“Just asking, Ma’am.”
“Eric? That you, man?” I heard Stan’s voice. It was weak, but it was a welcome sound. I moved to him. He was still lying down. Stan raised his hand for a fist bump and a high five. I made sure mine didn’t have any power behind it.
“Glad you’re still alive, asshole,” I remarked with a grin.
Cooper had awoken but had moved to the watch position, replacing Henry who joined us. Stan sat up on the couch.
“I’m doubly glad to be awake. Dreams, man. Fucking nightmares. They come and they go. But the landscape never changes. Freezing, desolate, dimly lit. And a freaking green moon. The land was filled with caricatures of people – emaciated, bald or diseased patches of hair, skull-like faces. Barely enough room to move. And the monsters all kept hounding me. But at the last moment, they vanish. Then the cycle repeats itself. I think I’m going to be an insomniac instead. At least for the next month or so.”
Planar Wars: Apertures (Book 1) Page 7