by JT Sawyer
Reisner shook his head, letting out a sigh. “All the UAV flyovers, boots on the ground, and satellite imagery and we can’t locate this creature, so I decided to look at what we have located and where.” He rested his index finger on the periphery of Atlanta. “We had a drone attack there on a small community two weeks ago. Ivins took in Bravo Team, killed the alpha and dispersed the bioweapon over the fleeing drones—end of story.”
He slid his finger up to Augusta. “Four weeks earlier, there was the battle of Augusta, where our two teams barely made it out alive after being surrounded by hundreds of drones and upwards of twenty alphas.” Tapping his Sharpie on a small town in northern Georgia, he continued. “Nearly a week ago, a hilltop outpost of ours was attacked by fifty drones and one alpha.” He snapped his fingers. “Boom, the creatures got dispatched without incident.”
Selene leaned in and pointed to a red circle in North Carolina. “The same thing happened a few days later outside of Asheville. This time a small airfield, as I recall, was threatened and…”
Reisner finished her sentence for her. “And my team went in, killing the lone alpha and the thirty-six drones that were staging for an attack on the remaining National Guard elements there. The creatures were organized as usual, but it was a slaughter-fest, with our mini-guns removing most of the drones and Porter sniping the alpha just after we touched down.”
Reisner stood back, putting his hands on his hips. “I could go on, but you can see there’s a pattern of low-scale attacks on low-priority targets every three to four days from north to south.”
Runa finished his coffee then placed the mug down, resting both of his meaty hands on the table as he nodded with his chin to the west. “And we haven’t had any changes in the number of drone attacks in the states of Alabama, Tennessee, or Kentucky—those areas are business as usual for the creatures there.”
Reisner nodded, letting out a smug grin while vigorously tapping the end of the red Sharpie on the map along the Atlantic Coast. “Exactly, so that leaves this region around Charleston, where my team encountered those alphas fleeing across the river. There’s been no significant activity along the South Carolina coastline during the past three weeks. I already confirmed with the comms guys, who said they haven’t heard any chatter on the shortwave band from civilians either.”
“But how many survivors are even left in those parts?” said Selene.
“Not many—but there was a report on a ham radio frequency a few days ago about people on several farms going missing near Jamestown; mostly teenagers.” He flung the marker on the table. “Unfortunately, that region was in the blackout zone along the Eastern Seaboard, taken out by the EMP attack by the Chinese during the first week of the pandemic, so we haven’t had any luck radioing more than a handful of people in South Carolina.”
Runa scrutinized the swamplands to the north of Charleston and then returned to studying the layout of that historic Southern city. “So, you think these other attacks to the west were ruses to keep us away from the coast?”
“I do. This has to be a deliberate attempt to tie up our manpower with low-intensity conflicts so Roland and his little band can keep covering their tracks.”
Runa nodded. “Sounds like countless other battles our country has been involved with over the years.”
“But for what purpose?” said Selene, gazing down at the large green splotches of marshland along the South Carolina coast. “He could have kept pressing north by now and be up in Virginia or elsewhere. Why linger in the Carolinas? Are they massing for another attack? There’s nothing of significance in that area.”
“I don’t think this is a troop buildup,” said Reisner. “We did routine satellite imagery over that region a week ago and came up with nothing.”
Runa and Reisner gave each other a familiar glance. “This is just like western Pakistan all over again,” said Runa. “The enemy is using the undeveloped terrain to hole up in for a few days at a time and then moving to a new location.”
“Or staying in one region and spreading their forces out as scouts—since they can all communicate telepathically with Roland and relay information back without revealing their location,” said Reisner.
“But again, for what purpose?” said Selene.
Reisner’s mind flashed back to the macabre scene in the lower recesses of Roland’s estate. “What if all of this—the lack of attacks along the Atlantic Coast, the attempts to divert our forces further inland, and the lack of a single sighting of this super-alpha—is to buy Roland time? Time to complete whatever bizarre experiment he was undertaking in Savannah before we arrived.”
“And with what Ivins encountered in Biloxi?” said Runa.
“I can’t speak to that—I don’t have enough evidence to go on—but it seems to me that Roland would need a medical facility of some kind or access to a lab.”
“No disrespect, Doc, but these aren’t human beings,” said Runa. “Who’s to say what they are capable of? I heard a report earlier from the command center of the Danish Military in Greenland; they said they witnessed a handful of creatures bounding half-naked across the frozen wastelands up there in an attempt to reach a remote village. It’s forty goddamned degrees below zero and these things are moving like cheetahs!”
“I agree that we don’t fully understand the scope of their constantly evolving abilities, but the reproduction of living beings,” she gulped, “requires certain stable conditions, regardless of whether we’re talking about reptiles, mammals, or avian creatures. There are three things that need to remain constant if an organism can successfully and repeatedly reproduce over time: a food source, a safe environment free of predators, and a predictable climate without drastic temperature extremes that can kill the offspring.”
“But this is more of a hybrid human and parasite,” said Reisner. “The alphas can obtain nourishment from synthetics or from living humans and, as Jonas just pointed out, they can withstand extreme temps, so that isn’t an issue.”
“That leaves the need for a safe environment,” said Runa.
“Which may be why we’ve not heard any reports of sightings in the past few weeks—they’ve holed up somewhere to complete Roland’s undertaking, whatever the hell that is,” said Selene.
Reisner paced in front of the table. “And in order to do that, they will need copious amounts of hormones, so if they’re not getting that through lots and lots of people, which would leave a huge trail of bodies behind, then it has to be synthetics.”
“It would seem to be the most logical answer.” She placed a finger on her chin, needling it in circles. “Tso and I have collected data from encounters with alphas around the country, which I will have to examine again. What I can tell you is that we’ve found that a single alpha usually needs to feed on human adrenal fluid every six hours, depending on their activity level. They find an adult human and they’re all set for about a day through intermittent feedings.” She dragged out the last word, chilled by its implications.
Selene moved around to the other side of the table. “You said that there were nearly thirty alphas in that group you and Porter pursued. If that’s the case, they would have needed constant replenishment, but you only discovered the bodies of a half-dozen victims in the greenhouse.”
Reisner nodded in agreement. “That cellar of Roland’s in Savannah—it had empty pharmaceutical supplies. If he was manufacturing synthetic hormones there, they could have used that for fuel in the beginning.”
“But that would require each of the alphas to carry gallons of the fluid, which would still only last less than a week, especially if they were moving quickly on foot,” said Runa.
“Unless they just killed more people along the way and hid their bodies to cover their passage,” said Reisner.
Selene rocked her head from side to side. “Yes, that’s quite possible too.”
Reisner glanced down at the map again. “We’ve been looking at this from the wrong perspective, thinking they would be leaving an obvi
ous trail of dead bodies wherever they went—but what if they are hitting pharmacies and hospitals along the way to gather more supplies of the hormone solution? That would eliminate the messy business of acquiring more victims and giving away their presence.”
“Not just any medical facility or pharmacy is going to have those materials,” said Selene. She yanked her laptop off the desk and flipped it open, typing vigorously until a map of South Carolina showed up, revealing four prominent businesses. “These are distribution centers that meter out the pharmaceutical compounds for delivery to the smaller chain stores throughout the Carolinas.” She zoomed in on the map, pinpointing a large warehouse structure northeast of Charleston. “This place here, Aspen Pharmaceuticals, appears to have been the main supplier.”
Reisner and Runa leaned in on either side of her, scanning the cities. Reisner tapped a finger on the screen around Charleston, then traced a route up to Jamestown. “This town is twenty miles northeast of the pharmacy and in line with the escape vector those creatures took.”
Selene stepped back from the desk. “If Roland and the other alphas are at that pharmaceutical warehouse, they will have access to as much synthetic hormones as they need.”
“Then why risk going after a bunch of teenagers?”
Selene gave Reisner a sideways glance while whispering, “Process of elimination—something I told Ivins earlier about Roland. He’s been very methodical in his efforts up until now. He’s not going to consume those people—he’s planning to use them for another round of experiments.”
Reisner reached for the radio mic on the wall, asking the captain to patch him through to Dorr. “I need to relay all of this to the general. He might want to consider sending Ivins and his team to that pharmaceutical company, since their next mission was already going to be in South Carolina.”
“And where are you off to?” said Runa.
Reisner looked at Selene as he replied, not wanting to tear himself away from her again. “Those farms in Jamestown are next on my list. Maybe we’ll pick up the trail of this super-alpha.” And this time, my instincts are telling me they’re once again steering me in the right direction.
Chapter 16
With the coming of dawn, a flock of crows were cawing in the trees outside the pharmaceutical building. Roland knew they had stayed in this place too long and that they would have to leave soon. It was only a matter of time before the soldiers closed the net and pinpointed their location in South Carolina. He looked at the glass tank of parasites that had been feeding on the synthetic hormones for the past two weeks. He was sure his new scheme would work, but he needed time to further his experiments. There were still several hundred drones roaming the countryside around the region and thousands more throughout Myrtle Beach and Columbia that he could summon, but he needed to keep them dispersed for now to prevent any suspicions being roused.
Roland heard the door to the rear office open and saw an alpha enter the main warehouse. It strode with purpose, moving past the stacks of crates and pallets that lined the eighteen-thousand-square-foot building. The smooth-skinned, sinewy beast looked squarely at him, its intense black eyes resembling obsidian. Though the creature still wore a tattered gray uniform from its former job as a fireman, whose embroidered nametag read Aiden, it was the mental acuity that Roland used to identify his alphas and categorize their physical and mental prowess—and Aiden was exceptional. His speed and agility were above average and matched by a ferocity that made his other alphas seem docile. Roland felt like the creature often understood the nature of his psychic commands before he even completed his thoughts, making him wonder if he had suffered only a brief death before being reborn into the magnificent predator before him.
In his former life, Roland had always regretted not having a son—an heir—but now he had over a hundred thousand progeny throughout the world, and some of them were of Aiden’s desirable abilities. Roland recognized in himself a glimmer of his former vanity, admiring the creature as if he was responsible for the rise of the cunning alphas, when in fact it was an anomaly. Only those cursed and later blessed by the rare blood cancer had become alphas—the same one that had afflicted him with a lifetime of suffering; that catapulted him into the role of absolute ruler.
The Others are ready, said Aiden, speaking into his mind about the human captives in the back room. The shrill voice was not as crystal clear as it was with Kat, resembling a blend of human language overwritten with a cicada-like timbre.
Roland nodded in confirmation, twisting his head slightly as if he was trying to stretch his neck. He was pleased that the teenagers abducted from the Jamestown farms were asleep—he had added melatonin to their water to subdue them so they wouldn’t injure themselves trying to escape. Roland turned to his sister, who was gathering the rest of the glass vials of synthetic hormones and placing them into the last of a dozen small backpacks.
We will leave soon and travel until noon, he said into her mind. We may have to carry these Others if they are unresponsive to this new approach.
I will make it. If not, then I will take another route apart from yours.
He knew she was aware of her fading ability to keep altering her heat signature. If she weakened any further, he couldn’t risk having their position compromised. For now, he was confident that her body was saturated with enough hormones to sustain her, sparing him from making the difficult decision to leave her behind.
Roland moved up to the rectangular glass tank, marveling at the two-foot-long, ribbony parasites coiled together amidst a pile of recently sloughed-off skin from their rapid growth spurt. He reached in and gently picked one up, his own body feeling a rush of endorphins. The texture of the worm was silky, and the aroma of fresh hormones permeating the air made his hands tremble. It was less round than the one melded to his cerebellum, whose ropy girth often felt like it was dislocating his jaw when it darted out to feed. These were more slender, resembling spaghetti-like tapeworms with a narrow but flat triangular head. Thousands of miniature black tendrils, which they used to suction themselves to the glass, fluttered along their undersides.
Roland pried open his button-down shirt and pressed the parasite against his bare chest, where it clung to his flesh with the delicate micro-tendrils. Then he reached into the tank again, slowly removing each one and placing them in a similar fashion around his torso. When he had finished, he followed Aiden through the dimly lit warehouse to the rear office. Entering, he saw the six teenagers sprawled on the tiled floor against a row of tan filing cabinets. Four boys and two girls, of different body types and ages—a sufficient cross-section to begin the experiment.
Roland closed the door and moved towards them, kneeling down beside a redheaded girl and brushing her hair aside. So vibrant and healthy—this tender age may be what I’ve needed all along. Then he opened his shirt and removed a parasite. It wriggled with excitement, rushing out of his glistening hands onto the ground, rapidly slithering its way up onto the girl’s shoulder and racing towards her left nostril.
***
Five hours later, four of the teenagers began to stir. They were the older ones in the group, and Roland was having difficulty penetrating their minds through the parasites entwined around their cerebellums. He noticed that these teenagers all had bulbous lesions on their necks and skulls, the blister-like formations swirling with gray fluid and what appeared to be the shed remnants of parasite skin.
As he moved closer to examine the nearest boy, its eyes shot open and it lunged at him. He swung his fist to the side, slamming it against the wall, then Aiden leapt upon it, restraining its hands. The maniacal creature writhed under the larger alpha’s weight while snapping its teeth at him, trying to bite his wrists.
Roland narrowed his eyes at the abomination, his mind still unable to probe the creature’s brain. “You are lost to us.”
He moved up to the enraged figure, grabbing its head and violently snapping it to the right until it broke off. He yanked the head free from the torso, qu
ickly grabbing the deformed parasite inside and pulling it out then slamming it on the ground, where he smashed the triangular head with his fist. He stood, gazing at the bloody corpse then at the nearly unrecognizable parasite, pondering what had gone wrong. He glanced over at the three other teenagers who were waking. They are older—beyond the edge of adolescence. Their glands must be corrupted already or too depleted.
He looked at Aiden, who had stood up beside him. Remove those three with the growths on their necks and lock them in the other room. The younger boy and girl appear to be unaffected, and we will keep them for now.
Roland moved closer to the girl with the red hair, feeling her mind already opening to his. Yes, you may still survive this step forward in evolution—and be able to join us.
Roland glanced back at Aiden, who had begun dragging two of the teens across the floor by their wrists. Where were these things found?
Several miles away from some farms. Two different groups. The older ones with them were killed and drained.
Roland thought back to the maps of this region, realizing that there were many undeveloped regions in the country and wondering where this boy Nicholas could be located, if he was still alive. None of these teenagers resembled his image from the computer database, and the only information on his previous location showed a post-office box in Jamestown. He must be out there somewhere. If only he had the ability to pry into the minds of the Others, to probe their memories, but his reach only extended to his own kind. He heard the door close as Aiden finished removing the last malformed teenager, then he sat back against the wall, delighted at the unfolding of the two fertile minds beside him as their transformation continued.
Chapter 17
As the Blackhawk approached the outskirts of Jamestown, Reisner could see the serpentine form of the Santee River to the north and, many miles beyond, the once-bustling resort city of Myrtle Beach. He remembered a trip that he and Jody had taken there with their dad and his extended family when they were kids. It was the first time he’d been swimming in the ocean, and he had been reticent to go in the water because he was afraid of sea monsters. Little did I know that the real monsters are the ones created by our own kind right here on land.