The Third Wave: Eidolon

by John O'Brien

  The recorded video of Norfolk played, the people wandering aimlessly and the apparitions showing up clearly. The room was completely silent after the last frame played.

  “What in the hell are we dealing with? Something biological?”

  “That’s possible, but our sensors aren’t picking up anything. That doesn’t discount it, as it could have had a low persistence or be something we can’t sense. But, that wouldn’t explain everything,” Lawrence answered, reversing the video and pausing on a still image of a person on the streets with one of the ghostly halos to their side.

  “What are we looking at? A ghost?”

  Lawrence let the video continue, the person moving and the apparition vanishing inside of them. The person bent over and grabbed his head. The ghostly image returned, suddenly lunging outward and looking as if it were trying to pull free. It then snapped back and appeared partially in and partially out of the body. The man on the screen lifted his head and opened his mouth wide, apparently screaming.

  “And that’s happening all across the city. You can hear the screams in the video,” Lawrence commented.

  “So, back to my question…is that a ghost we’re seeing? I mean, what in the fuck is it? Sorry for the language, sir.”

  “I’m afraid there isn’t a manual published that would account for something like this. This is more like something from fictional novel,” Lawrence replied.

  “Are they hostile, then?”

  “Our observations are slim, but you saw some of them trying to brave those waters in order to get to us. So, we’re going to assume so. Now, there appear to be two different kinds. Some are sort of catatonic, much like the sailor we rescued and have secured. The ones trying very hard to get to us are more agile and do appear hostile,” Lawrence said.

  “Could they have just been trying to get to us for help?”

  “I suppose that’s a possibility, but we’re taking care of us first. That means we have to treat them as dangerous. At least until we figure out what’s going on. Now, with that in…” Lawrence started.

  “Whoa!” one office exclaims, his eyes glued to the monitor still playing the video.

  “Do you have something to say, Lieutenant?” Lawrence inquired.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, sir. But, could you rewind the video a touch?” the officer asked. “There, sir,” the lieutenant added.

  Together, they watched the video. It was a view of several of the ghostly people along one of the streets. Like much of the rest of the video, it showed the variations of the ghostly images wavering silver in the moonlight. One lunged outward and went through a concrete wall. The body it was attached to blurred and vanished through the same wall.

  “That’s what I thought I saw,” the lieutenant stated, the others around the table slack-jawed.

  “I take back what I said about it being biological. Nothing can do that,” one officer commented.

  “That’s…that’s messed up. What did I just see?” another added.

  They replayed that portion of the video frame by frame numerous times, searching for something they were missing. Some door being opened, some kind of rational explanation. Each time, the ghostly figure shot out and through solid concrete. The body was solid, then blurred, becoming nearly as translucent as the apparition itself. It then blurred into and through the wall, disappearing entirely.

  “That’s a bit unnerving,” Lawrence finally said.

  They studied the entire video more closely and saw several more instances of the strange phenomenon. In one instance, on a remote stretch of beach, they watched as one person ran out onto the sand. The behavior caught their attention, as the man didn’t demonstrate the same behavior as the others. He was being chased, each pursuer with an apparition. The officers watched intently as the man ran along the sand, frequently looking back over his shoulder. Even though it was dark, his fear was apparent.

  Several times, the apparitions lunged ahead, the body they were attached to blurring, only to materialize a distance away and closer to the fleeing man. One nearly caught up, about five feet behind. The ghostly image launched forward, reaching around the running man and into his mouth and nose. The man stopped in his tracks as if stunned. The aura then detached completely and vanished into the man. The body of his pursuer dropped to the sand like a sack of meat. A faint opaque image drifted from the stunned man, hovering and wavering like a heat shimmer. Then, it vanished like mist. Suddenly, another image appeared from within the man, acting like the others they had seen. The man sank to his knees and lifted his head, his scream added to the mix of others throughout the city. Those who were chasing him stopped their pursuit and went back to their aimless, pained wandering.

  The room was left in silence, so quiet that you could almost hear the steam lifting from the cups.

  “This is something out of the apocalypse,” one officer whispered.

  “What in the hell did we surface into?” another asked.

  “Exactly,” a third added.

  “I guess that solves whether they’re hostile,” Lawrence said.

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” Lawrence admitted.

  “Could we be hallucinating this? Could something be inside this boat that could be causing us to imagine this? Or something that was released?”

  “Maybe it’s part of the test…to see how we’d react. Maybe it wasn’t a test of the boat, but rather of us,” another officer commented.

  “It could be that we surfaced and everything was normal except for us. Maybe those escorts are trailing behind us and monitoring our actions. Or wondering why we just left.”

  “Calm down. If that was the case, they wouldn’t have put live weapons aboard,” Lawrence attempted to restore some measure of calm.

  “Maybe they didn’t.”

  “You know that they’re live. We tested them,” one officer stated.

  “But, that. Can’t. Be. Real,” another said, pointing to the video screen.

  “We have to assume it is. We aren’t hallucinating or part of an experiment. I know the Navy well enough to know that they wouldn’t put their new toy at risk. So, whatever we’re dealing with, we have to assume that it’s real. If we venture along a different path, we’ll be putting ourselves at greater risk—and that’s something we’re not going to do. So, let’s get back to what we know.

  “Again, we haven’t had any contact. Now, I guess we know why. We can add that anyone with those opaque shadow things is hostile. We have enough fuel for years and water isn’t an issue. Our immediate concern is food. We can’t very well just dock and pilfer through the warehouses. If we decide to go ashore, we’ll have to either dock or paddle in using the emergency rafts. However, populated areas are to be avoided, which will make any supply run we attempt risky,” Lawrence briefed.

  “How many days do we have?”

  “The food we were supplied with is mostly gone,” Lawrence answered.

  “So, we need to figure something out rather promptly. At least we have enough coffee,” one joked.

  “Hungry with a caffeine headache and twelve missiles aboard…yeah, not a good situation,” another said. “But, seriously. If we can’t go ashore, then how are we going to resupply?”

  “I didn’t say we couldn’t go ashore. I just said we had to avoid populated areas. So, we need to figure out where we can get food supplies that aren’t around populated places. And, I know, that won’t be easy. We don’t have many on board, and fewer weapons. But, we’ll have to figure this out without putting ourselves at too great a risk,” Lawrence stated.

  The idea that this was some simulation put on by the Navy tickled in his mind, placed there by the officer who mentioned hallucinations. In one way, that made more sense than what they saw on the video. Both were impossible scenarios, but that they might be an experiment was less so than ghosts morphing people through walls. But the Navy just wouldn’t take that kind of risk with their new toy.

  “So. Are we talking about
searching around here, or should we scout the rest of the eastern seaboard first?” Lt. Commander Grieves asked.

  “Well, XO, we barely have enough food to last us through the coming day, so I’d say our priority is to scavenge enough here to get us by and then go on a scouting run down the coast. Besides, lying in wait here for a little bit will let us see if any traffic happens by. In light of the fact that we haven’t heard anything from any of the command and control ships—which were to disperse to create a global communications network in such a situation—we’re going to have to wait until either they come online or wait off the entrance in case anyone returns.

  “But first we have to take care of our food shortage situation, then reconnoiter the seaboard to see if the conditions here are the same everywhere,” Lawrence answered.

  “Aye, sir. So, we have to locate a food source that isn’t near any populated area and is somewhere we can dock the boat, or at least paddle ashore with relative ease,” Grieves stated.

  “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds kind of easy,” Lawrence said sarcastically, unrolling a map of the area across the mess table. “Now, without the use of satellite coverage, we’re basically shooting in the dark with regards to planning. I’d like to scavenge the ships at anchor, but I’m worried about their confined nature. However, the amount of people onboard will be significantly less than anywhere on land. Thoughts?” Lawrence questioned.

  “With what we saw, I’m not that fond of going aboard a ship. I mean, we could do it if it weren’t for the fact that those things are able to somehow go through walls. I mean, how is that even possible?” Grieves said.

  “I have no idea, but we’re just going to have to go with the fact that they can and worry about the whys later,” Lawrence answered.

  “Well, there are several supply annexes up the York River. There’s the Yorktown Naval Weapons Center, but that’s only a mass of bunkers storing armaments. So, aside from any foodstuffs in the commissary or mess halls, that won’t be much good to us. And then there’s the Cheatham Annex supply center further up the river. Now, they have warehouses of retail items, including both dry and cold food storages. Although, with the power out, the cold food storages won’t be of much use. But, the others will. And, it’s not very populated if I remember correctly. Mostly admin and maintenance permanently stationed there. That, plus anyone who was using the recreational facilities. Still, that could mean a hundred or more in the area,” Grieves commented.

  “What about creating a distraction away from the place? We could sail further up the river and lay on the foghorn. That will surely bring anyone in the center toward us, providing they’re drawn to sound,” a lieutenant suggested.

  “While a good idea, I think anything along those lines could backfire on us. Williamsburg is nearby. Although the waterways in the area may provide some kind of barrier, if they’re drawn to sound, any noise like that could bring them running,” Grieves responded. “Where we go, I think we have to do it as quietly as we can.”

  “It sure would be nice to have a team of SEALs on board. They’re trained to do this kind of stuff for breakfast,” the lieutenant opined.

  “Sir, for what it’s worth, I have a buddy in the Army. He’s a chopper pilot who flies out of the Army base up the James River. The airfield is next to the river and quite a ways out from the base. They fly Chinooks and there’s only a squadron or flight or whatever they call it. I’ve visited there a few times when we were in port and there were very few people, even during the busiest of times. Once, it seemed entirely abandoned. Aside from being mostly hangars, I seem to remember that there’s a control tower, a small fire station, and I think there’s a an operations building. Besides housing the helicopters, the field is mostly used as a transitional field, or so I think he said, so it’s mainly air traffic guys. Anyway, my point is, they have a dining facility. If we’re only looking for a few days of food, then that place is relatively uncrowded,” one officer chimed in.

  “Where is that?” Lawrence asked.

  “Here,” the officer pointed. “Outside of Newport News.”

  “The Warwick River branches off the James. That, along with the marshland, cuts the airfield off from the city and makes for a good blockade, with only one bridge across it, to the north,” Grieves noted. “That’s a pretty solid barrier between the airfield and the city.”

  “As long as those things can’t just materialize on the other side,” another officer quips.

  “We didn’t see any doing it from the bridge tunnel entrances toward us. Every single one of them jumped into the water and tried to swim,” Grieves stated.

  “True enough. However, I will caution that we know next to nothing about their capabilities, so let’s not assume anything at this point. But, what you say gives credence to the river being a barrier. That leaves only those at the airfield. However, those stationed at Fort Eustis are less than a mile away. But, I think the diversionary tactic previously mentioned might just work here. If we sail further up the river to the north and sound the foghorn, anyone drawn to the sound will leave the airfield, hopefully including those at the site itself. The difference here is that any drawn won’t by pulled directly through our targeted area,” Lawrence mentioned.

  “Day or night?” Grieves asked.

  “Seeing as we don’t have any NVG equipment outside of what’s on the boat, I’d say a day infiltration is best. But, in order not to drag the lot of those things in Norfolk and the surrounding area along with us, I say we make the journey up the river by night. Douse the lights and go in with the hull submerged. I want lookouts on top for any wayward vessels or other obstructions. We park by what’s left of the reserve fleet anchored in the channel. Just prior to morning, we ready the raft and inch to the edge of the channel, where we drop off the raft and crew going ashore. We have six M-4s in the locker, so I think we limit it to one raft of six. Grieves, you have experience hunting, so you’ll be leading them. Select six able-bodied sailors who have weapon skills, and brief them. After you depart, we’ll sail upstream and lay on the foghorn.

  “Now, onto another difficult topic. We’re going to have to tell the crew what’s going on; we should show them the video. They know something is up from our encounter with the escort vessels and our return to port. We owe them an explanation. This is going to create a hell of a lot of turmoil with regards to family members. There’s not a damn thing we can do about this, even among ourselves. We NEED to stick together through this. We’re already operating with a skeleton crew and we don’t need anyone taking it in mind that they need to head off on their own to search for their loved ones. For this reason, Grieves, I want you to select single sailors without children if that’s at all possible. Once this meeting is over, head back to your stations and I’ll make a boat-wide announcement,” Lawrence briefed.

  “Sir. Are we going to look for our families? I mean, my wife and kid are in Norfolk,” one officer asked.

  “Once we see to ourselves and get a better handle on what we’re dealing with, then we’ll sit down and discuss what we can do. You saw the video. I’m pretty sure your wife wouldn’t want you taking that kind of risk. And, just so each of you knows, my wife is on base as well. My wading into that mess onshore isn’t going to do her any good. Even if I were Rambo, I wouldn’t make it four steps. There’s more than a quarter of a million people just in the city alone. If even half of them have those apparition things, that puts our odds rather low. So, food, scout the seaboard, then plan based on what we find,” Lawrence replied.

  “Don’t get me wrong, sir. I’m here for the duration. I was just wondering,” the officer responded.

  “I know this isn’t easy for anyone, even aside from the surreal aspect. We’re in uncharted territory and if we’re to sort this out, we need to maintain our professionalism at all times,” Lawrence said, looking around the table.

  The small contingent of officers all nodded.

  “Okay, I think that’s about it for now. We’ll get u
nderway in thirty.”

  Extinguishing the lights, the sub shuddered again as the propellers began driving it forward. The bow rose over the swells, settling down with a splash and hiss of water that sprayed to the sides. As before, faint screams drifted across the night air, the hulks of anchored ships sliding past. The bridges were clear of people as they motored over the tunnel built under the waterway, but there were several dark lumps of corpses bobbing in the rolling waves. Lawrence and the lookouts remained quiet—the scene and shrieks from the city that rolled over them almost required it.

  Turning and heading over the freeway tunnel under the inlet, Lawrence ordered the hull submerged. The long, dark hull vanished with barely a whisper. Waves arced outward from the conning tower. As they probed further into the port, they heard the screams emanating from the cities on both sides. To one side, the carriers sat in their berths, moonlight glimmering from the array of masts and the island. The darkened bridge windows reflected the light shining off cleared flight decks. Assault carriers were next in line, followed by cruisers and destroyers tucked into berths side by side. People with their silver apparitions ran along the naval port facilities on one side, and along the streets on the other. None of them seemed to notice the black hull as it slid slowly by.

  They passed the next freeway, the bridge that turned into a tunnel under the channel, and then another bridge as the buildings of the cities gave way to marshes lining the river. The rays of the moon reflected off waterways that snaked through tangled roots and trees. All along the passage, there wasn’t a light to be seen. The shrieks faded into the background of the night as they worked their way along the channel and left the cities behind.

  The Washington altered course to allow a floating barge to drift past. The tug that was pushing it was a short distance away, both riding along on the current. Inside the bridge of the tug, two night-vision enhanced figures awkwardly made repetitive motions, seemingly unaware that their craft was being carried away.

  Moonlight shone against the hulls of the reserve fleet anchored in small flotillas at the edge of the channel. The tall masts and derricks onboard the transport vessels looked like skeletal arms that extended from the deck surfaces. On the other side of the James River, a spit of marshy land and trees separated it from the Warwick River. Being near the stationary vessels, close enough to blend in but far enough away to give warning of anyone approaching, Lawrence ordered the anchor dropped. He’d rather have the station-keeping system maintain the Washington in place, but that relied on precise measurements from continual updates from the currently unavailable GPS satellites. Over time, the onboard system could creep, which would move them out of the channel and possibly ground them in the shallows. Anchoring would require additional time to get underway should they need to leave in a hurry, but he’d prefer that than being unable to move at all.