* * *
Just seconds after Varan disappeared into the blue sky over the Gulf of Mexico, a rescue helicopter from one of the Navy ships moved toward the wrecked INN helicopter. The shattered fuselage was still afloat, though it was sinking fast.
Linda Carlisle kicked the door on her side of the helicopter. When it didn't budge, she kicked it again - this time with both legs. Water was already gushing around her feet from the broken windows in the front cockpit. She knew they didn't have much time before the wreckage sank.
Linda braced herself against the seat and kicked out for the third time. The door popped open, and a torrent of seawater rushed in, threatening to drown her then and there.
At least Mike made us all wear life vests, she thought as she grabbed Robin Halliday, who was unconscious. Keeping Robin's head above water, Linda dragged the unconscious girl out of the wreckage.
Briefly, she saw Mike Timko trying to rouse Tony, the pilot.
"Get out!" Mike screamed at her.
Linda obeyed. She swam away from the sinking helicopter, dragging the limp intern with her. The rescue helicopter dropped out of the sky overhead, buffeting the two women with the wind from its blades. Two Navy divers in wet suits dropped out of the chopper door and splashed into the water beside her.
One took Robin out of Linda's tired arms, while the other grasped her about the waist. Exhausted, she surrendered to the sailor's strong grip.
A few moments later, Linda found herself being pushed into an orange rubber raft, next to the still-unconscious Robin. Then Mike tumbled in right next to her, followed by a man in a wet suit.
Linda sat up and looked around. A second man in a wet suit was clambering aboard. She didn't see anyone else.
Linda turned and looked at her producer.
"Where's Tony?" she demanded.
Mike, still coughing out seawater, looked away. Then he cleared his throat.
"Tony... Tony didn't make it," he whispered hoarsely. "He was killed when we hit the water..."
21
A PLAGUE OF
MONSTERS,
A MONSTROUS PLAGUE
Sunday, June 13, 1999, 3:45 P.M.
Dan's Computer Store, Moraga Road Mall
Moraga, California
From the vantage point of his computer store, less than a mile away, Dan Burgleman watched as U.S. Army helicopters attacked Godzilla.
With rapt attention, the portly, bearded man witnessed this titanic struggle between mankind and mutant monster and concluded that he'd made the right decision to stay.
When the National Guardsmen had come through the area an hour before, everyone in the strip mall who had not already abandoned their businesses fled with the soldiers. Everyone, that is, except Burgleman.
He'd worked too long and too hard on his computer store. He wasn't going to abandon it now. After all, Godzilla was just an animal. A big animal, sure... but just an animal.
When Burgleman had woken up that morning in his apartment in nearby Canyon, he had turned on the radio. That was when he first heard that Godzilla was in California.
Instead of panicking, Burgleman drove to work and opened his shop, just as he would on any other Sunday. He wasn't about to leave all a he'd ever worked for to the mercy of looters or worse, just because some big dumb dinosaur was running loose in Northern California.
Burgleman almost changed his mind when he saw Godzilla in the flesh. First, he felt the earth tremble at the monster's approach. Next, the electrical power winked out, but came back on.
That was when he looked out of his shop's plateglass window and saw the gargantuan thing called Godzilla lumbering past on the main highway. The creature's tail thrashed, leaving a trail of smoke, fire, and destruction in its wake. Burgleman couldn't believe that anything that big could be alive!
To Burgleman's relief, the creature seemed to be passing the mall right by. Then the helicopters arrived. Now Burgleman watched in awe as the rockets struck Godzilla again and again in a seemingly endless stream. The explosions looked tiny against Godzilla's bulk, but there were so many of them that they soon obscured the monster in smoke and fire.
Though there was a considerable risk of shrapnel - Burgleman had seen and heard chunks of metal and debris striking the pavement of the almost-empty parking lot since the attack began - the shopkeeper ventured outside to get a better view. The sound of the battle was deafening.
He almost went back inside when one rocket actually bounced off Godzilla's tough hide and spun away. Burgleman watched as the spinning projectile arced into the air. When it finally came to earth, it struck the mall's huge sign on the other side of the immense parking lot. The electric billboard exploded in a shower of sparks and shattered glass.
Despite the risks, Burgleman was too amazed by the titanic struggle taking place right there in front of him to move.
When a second wave of much more powerful missiles struck Godzilla, the creature let loose with a bellow of rage and pain that shook the windows of Burgleman's store.
Godzilla's bony spines danced with electric fire as powerful explosions racked his tortured mass.
Suddenly, the yowling monster threw up his claws in a defensive posture and tumbled down. When he struck the earth, the ground trembled. Then a wave of tectonic force moved under the parking lot, rippling the pavement. The wave continued forward until it buckled the sidewalk where Craig Burgleman stood.
Behind him, the plate-glass windows of his computer shop cracked. Two stores down, the front windows of a dress shop shattered, spilling a shower of glass and several mannequins onto the sidewalk.
To Burgleman's surprise, gouts of melted green plastic and chunks of rubber began raining down on the mall's parking lot. He jumped backward, trying to get under the awning of his store before he, too, was hit.
He didn't move fast enough. Before he took a step, his face, neck, and shirt were splattered by the green slime. Startled and sickened, Burgleman hastily wiped the sticky stuff off his face with his hands.
The liquid was thick, and had a peculiar metallic smell - not unlike the electronic smell of his storeroom. As Burgleman looked at the stuff on his hands, another chunk of black rubber dropped to the ground at his feet. Despite a feeling of mounting horror, Burgleman bent down to examine the debris.
He discovered that it wasn't rubber at all. Nor was the stuff on his shirt melted plastic. The black rubber was really chunks of Godzilla's flesh, blasted away from the creature's body. And the green goo was... Godzilla's blood.
Burgleman gagged and rushed to the bathroom at the back of the store, but when he turned on the water, nothing came out. In desperation, he ran to the tiny refrigerator and used some cold bottled water to rinse off. He tore off his shirt, balled it up, and threw it into the trash bin.
* * *
When the Hellfire missiles were spent, the Apaches aimed their chin-mounted machine guns at the monster. The helicopters did not back away. Instead, they circled the fallen beast like a swarm of impatient vultures. Godzilla was almost completely obscured in billowing clouds of black smoke and orange fire.
The creature's roars of rage and pain had subsided, and though his long tail still thrashed through the maelstrom of smoke and fire, it looked as if Godzilla had been stopped, at least temporarily.
Thirty seconds passed. Then the flight leader inched his helicopter closer to the billowing smoke. The commander was about to don his infrared goggles in an attempt to see through the conflagration when he noticed flashes of blue lightning rippling in the smoke.
"Pull back! Pull back!" the commander cried into his microphone. But even as the Apaches began to disperse, a bolt of blue fire blasted out of the smoke and struck the commander's Apache. The helicopter - and its two occupants - evaporated in a bright yellow ball of fire.
Then, out of the blazing turmoil, Godzilla struggled to his feet with a mighty bellow that drowned out the thrumming beat of the helicopter blades.
As the choppers scattered like angry wasps, Godzilla spat fire
at them. Two more Apaches and their crews were blasted to atoms before the rest of the helicopters fled into the afternoon sky.
Grunting, Godzilla flailed his tail in anger, demolishing a used-car dealership and knocking the vehicles into the surrounding buildings. The creature's massive bulk had left a huge hole in the pavement where he had fallen. Godzilla had left chunks of his own flesh and blood behind as well.
With single-minded determination, the creature resumed its trek eastward, moving toward the city of Stockton, and perhaps beyond - to the very heartland of America...
* * *
Dan Burgleman couldn't walk. He couldn't even stand anymore. The sickness came on him fast, before he knew what hit him.
And it hit him hard.
Gagging, he rushed back to the restroom and began to vomit. Since he was totally unnerved by what had happened to him, the vomiting and nausea that hit him in waves didn't surprise him at first - even though he never thought he would hurl just because of a little gore.
But when the symptoms got much more violent, Burgleman began to worry. He decided he'd better leave the store and find help. In the distance, he could hear sirens wailing.
But try as he might, Burgleman just couldn't control the spasms in his gut. Long after everything was out of his stomach, Burgleman still felt the convulsions rip through his abdomen.
He was so sick he couldn't move, couldn't walk. He just gagged and writhed on the tile floor of his store's restroom.
Maybe if I rest here for a while, the sickness will pass and I can get out of here, he thought hopefully.
* * *
Daniel Burgleman was found, seven hours later, by National Guard troops wearing protective biological warfare suits. The soldiers had been searching for survivors in and around Moraga.
When the soldiers found Burgleman, he was lying in the middle of the computer store, unconscious. He had managed to crawl that far before finally collapsing.
Immediately, the soldiers rushed the still-living Burgleman to the hospital. While his computer store remained virtually unharmed, Burgleman was anything but.
Like thousands of others, he had only feared being crushed by Godzilla. He had never thought about the dangerous side effects from Godzilla's radioactive flesh and blood.
* * *
General Taggart and Dr. Irene Markham waited on the tarmac as Lori Angelo came in for a landing.
The rest of the G-Force team was busy in the command center, getting up-to-the-minute situation reports on Godzilla's activity, on Varan's airborne approach toward the Texas coast, and the continuing search for Rodan in Lake Oahe.
The desert afternoon was hot and dry, and the Osprey's twin-rotor blades kicked up dust as the aircraft touched down and taxied toward the main hangar.
When the engines stopped, the hatch on the fuselage opened and Lori stepped out, blinking against the sun and the dust.
Or maybe she's fighting back tears, Dr. Markham thought with compassion for the confused young woman.
The psychiatrist watched as Lori and General Taggart silently stared at each other from across the runway. The girl's face was torn with emotion. General Taggart's eyes, hidden behind sunglasses, were unreadable.
Lori approached the general with a brisk, military step. Taggart stood stock-still, waiting.
Finally, Lori stood toe-to-toe with the general, and she saluted. "Reporting for duty, sir," she announced, suddenly calm and in control.
"Do you think you're ready for active duty?" General Taggart barked at the girl.
Lori nodded, then smiled. "I just need a little sleep, sir," she replied.
"We'll just have to see about that," the general retorted. Then he pointed at Dr. Markham.
"I want you to go back to the medical facility with the doctor here," he declared. "When Dr. Markham examines you, and clears you for active duty, you are to report to the command center."
Lori couldn't hide her delight. "Yessss, sir!" she cried, saluting again.
General Taggart returned the salute briskly. Then, without another word, he turned on his heels and strode back to headquarters.
* * *
The beautiful city of Galveston, Texas, built on the long, narrow stretch of land between the Gulf of Mexico and Galveston Bay, was no stranger to natural disasters.
In the past, the city had suffered more than its share of deadly hurricanes. In September 1900, the city was hit by one, which was followed by a devastating tidal wave that left the entire city in ruins and six thousand people dead.
After that disaster, Galveston was rebuilt. This time, however, the city planners raised the city at least six feet above its original level. They also built a seventeen-foot-high concrete seawall all along the coast to protect their city from the ravages of the Gulf of Mexico.
When another, even more powerful, hurricane hit in 1915, the seawall held firm, and the city was spared from destruction.
Now, as the late spring sun set over the peaceful, unsuspecting scene, a disaster of a different kind descended upon the island city of Galveston.
And no mere seawall could hold it off.
As spring crowds strolled along the sandy beaches near Seawall Boulevard and folks moved in and out of Galveston's Convention and Visitors' Bureau, death dropped out of the sky.
At first, it was the beachgoers who noticed it. They saw a black silhouette framed against the golden dusk. Some folks pointed toward the phenomenon and called to their friends.
The black figure got larger and larger, until it looked as if a huge blimp was moving from the sky above the gulf toward the shore. Then, at the last possible moment, the black form seemed to speed up. As the crowd watched in horror, the object swooped down and dived toward the populated beach below.
People began to flee the waterfront in panic as Varan approached. Seawall Boulevard became a mass of running, frightened people.
The monster swooped over the beach, and a rushing wind in its wake blew white sand across the city, carried off beach umbrellas and furniture, and even overturned cars.
Varan slammed against the steel and glass Marriott Hotel with an earsplitting crash. The building literally imploded under the force and weight of the creature's assault. The luxury hotel collapsed, floor upon floor, until nothing stood.
In the center of the rubble, Varan roared and thrashed about angrily, scattering debris and uncovering victims trapped in the building's collapse.
When Varan dug enough of the ruins away, dozens of bodies, and a few survivors, were lying in a heap in the center of the ruined hotel. Some cried out, but most were dead and silent. Varan opened its yawning, slavering mouth and began to feed on its victims.
* * *
Everyone looked up in total surprise as Lori Angelo reported for duty in the G-Force command center.
Tia, who was monitoring communications from a dozen military commands in California, South Dakota, and Texas, yelped with surprise and delight. Kip looked up from a printout and nudged Martin Wong. "Look... Lori's back!" he declared.
"Looks like you're not the only screw-up around here anymore," the Chinese-American flight engineer replied.
Toby Nelson practically ran to his co-pilot and embraced her in a bear hug.
Unnoticed by anyone except Tia Shimura, Pierce Dillard's iron facade broke. He actually smiled, with much more emotion than Tia thought the head pilot was capable of.
Tia's intuition kicked in, and she wondered if there wasn't something more going on in Pierce's mind than just military strategy.
Colonel Krupp, from his position in front of the command monitor, also looked surprised to see Lori. He was even more startled when General Taggart stepped into the command center right behind the young woman.
The general stepped up to the podium in the center of the room. That was the signal for the G-Force team to take their briefing positions.
The big television monitors were shut off, except for the one in the center, which showed Godzilla towering over the suburban sprawl of
an unnamed town in Northern California.
"I'd like your attention," the general said after everyone had taken a seat.
"First, I'd like you all to welcome back Ms. Angelo," he said. "She's been returned to active duty after being on... special assignment."
There was an enthusiastic round of applause in the command center. At her briefing station, Lori blushed. Silently, she thanked the general for not disclosing the real reason for her absence. When the applause died down, the general's face suddenly turned solemn.
"As you all know," he continued, "in the last twenty-four hours, no fewer than three kaiju have arrived on our nation's shores..."
The general withdrew a printout from his uniform pocket.
"I just received orders from the President of the United States," he announced grimly "G-Force has just been activated. The commander-in-chief has ordered us to fly Raptor-One and Raptor-Two to Texas tomorrow morning."
This was definitely not what they expected. The general stopped reading and looked up at his team. "I know you want to fight Godzilla," he told them. "But there has been a complication.
"During the helicopter attack in Moraga, some of Godzilla's blood was spilled over the town. A mysterious radioactive blood-borne toxin was also released. It has resulted in the hospitalization of hundreds."
The general turned to Colonel Krupp. The other officer stepped up to a microphone.
"The Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta have sent out a team of experts," the colonel informed them. "But until the doctors have come to some conclusions, no further attacks will be launched against Godzilla. Instead, the military will continue to try to evacuate the population in Godzilla's path."
Pierce struck his fist into his hand. Toby shook his head in frustration. Kip felt a wave of relief... which was almost immediately replaced by shame. Am I that afraid? he wondered.
General Taggart spoke again.
"Were going to fight Varan," he said simply "We leave at 0500 - five o'clock tomorrow morning."
His cold eyes scanned the room one last time.
"Get a good night's sleep," he commanded them. "You'll need it."
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