On Distant Shores (Exiles Triology Book 1)

by Mark Harritt

  The opening was not large, but the monster could slide the tips of its talons into it. It delicately extended the points of talons through the doors. Talons slid in, curved around the metal, and pulled. The monster leveraged the elevator door open further, metal screeching as the doors moved. As the doors opened wider, gigantic paws flexed and replaced the talons, applying more force. They slid open and the monster moved its head into the opening. As the prey saw the beast, they started screaming, anticipating their death. All delicacy, all subtlety was gone. Roaring its murderous rage, it used its bulk to slam the doors back. The impact rang through the open room and echoed up the shaft. The beast slammed its body against the doors, warping metal screeching as loud as the monsters howls. The doors broke and gave way. The monster pushed shoulders into the room beyond. The doors gave further, falling away completely, and the great monster pushed its body through.

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  None of Everett’s special operations training prepared him for what came next. Everett watched the tongue flick through the crack of the door, libidinously caressing the smooth metal on either side of the opening. He watched gigantic talons extend through the door, the tips appearing, and then the entire claw sliding through. The doors of the elevator shuddered open, shrieking as metal ground across metal. Something huge slammed against the elevators, bending, twisting metal.

  Everett looked at the monstrosity coming through the door. It was a nightmare, a chimera of hideous proportions. It was every fear, monster, hideous dream that had haunted man through the ages combined into one. It was a beast dragged from the deepest pit of hell. The triangular head, the whipping tentacles, the gigantic talons made Everett feel the need to run. He felt his sanity slipping. His lizard brain was screaming at him to drop his rifle and run, to hide, to pray to God for deliverance. The same hideous coughing scream echoed through the gigantic room. Despite its bulk, the beast moved sinuously, languidly. The head was huge, broad across the top, great spiked teeth in the mouth. Long, wide scars ran across the hide, evidence of past battles. Everett couldn’t even imagine what else there might be out there to fight this great fiend. Tentacles whipped wildly around, rippling through shades of red to pink.

  The beast looked reptilian, hide studded with thick scale, mottled green, brown and gray, camouflage of an ambush predator. It looked like some antediluvian, ancient dragon, but its chest and shoulders was more like a giant bulldog, or lion, arms that were used to drag down prey. The body of the damn thing was twenty feet long, the tail another fifteen feet beyond that. Saliva dripped in ropes out of the mouth of the beast. Nothing ever read, or anything ever seen from Hollywood could ever come close to the horror he was witnessing. Hell, the chaotic delirium of a madman couldn’t even match what Everett was looking at.

  The techs and scientists watched as the doors buckled, the talons and head of the beast appearing through the door. As the screaming monster emerged into the room, scientists and techs fought each other to get through the door into the stairwell. The group turned from an orderly, though hasty migration into a scrum of flailing bodies. Complete chaos ensued. They were no longer rational human beings. Fear ran through the crowd like a tidal wave. They were a mass of herd animals trying to outrun the wolf. The screaming started as the engineering team realized that they were on the front row to a horror movie. One of them kept yelling, “Jesus, Jesus,” over and over again. The stench of voided bowels and urine choked the air in the play room. The frenzied exodus wasn’t going well for anyone, and there would be injuries.

  There was nothing the team could do to keep anybody acting like rational humans, so they didn’t try. How could they, with this horror. The sound of weapons racking the first bullet into the chamber sounded, eight times, each sound as different as the weapon system being used. There was only the team, plus Lieutenant Pang and three techs to stop the slaughter that was about to happen. Everett thought about this, and then stated, “Mike is really going to be pissed that he missed this.”

  Everett looked at Mickey, muscled, as big as a house, the huge .50 caliber rifle looking small against his frame. Mickey had a huge grin. He thought about Mike missing the impending slaughter. Mickey looked back at him, “Yeah, I think he’s going to be a little upset.”

  They both looked at the beast in front of them. Everett watched as its huge fangs flexed in and out if its mouth. Then he noticed its body massing, muscle contracting, the back legs tensing under the body.

  “Get ready, here it comes!” he yelled.

  Tom fired the first shot. The .338 Lapua hit the monster on the top of the head. The head flinched, and the monster paused. It didn’t seem harmed so much as stunned that it had been hurt. The momentary silence was overwhelmed by the sound of gun fire as the rest of the team opened up on the creature. The hide was tough, but blood and gore flowed. Rob scored a shot against the beast as he lobbed a 40mm underneath it. Everett and Mickey piled shot after shot into the shoulder and front legs of the beast. They saw the effect the .338 Lapua had on the head, and they didn’t want to waste shots by putting more rounds there.

  The 40mm grenades did some damage on the creature, but it was so huge, it took the damage and kept moving forward. Soon, the beast would be too close for the grenades to arm before they hit. Rob was prepping another round for the beast. Tom took aim and hit the beast in the shoulder, causing the arm to collapse under it. It was only down momentarily as it fought off the shot and stood back up to attack them. The beast was taking major damage, but it still soaked up all the hits. There was no doubt that it was going to make it to their platform and kill them all. It raised its head and released an earth shattering roar.

  Mickey and Everett did magazine changes, to the sing song, “reload.” They moved in a ballet of violent intent. Tom kept shooting at the joints on the monster. Rob switched to 5.56mm rounds. Some bullets did damage, most did little. Lieutenant Pang just waited until the beast was close enough for the shotgun to have maximum effect, hoping that she would do damage before it killed her.

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  At the edge of the corridor, Mike looked into a large area with desks piled up against the wall. As he looked around, an office door opened. Mitchem and Dr. Randall walked out. Dr. Randall was using one arm to hold the other close to her chest. Dr. Randall had a problem meeting his eyes. Mitchem was different, more belligerent. He growled at Mike, “What the hell happened?”

  Mike tried to be conciliatory, not wanting further conflict, knowing it wouldn’t help the situation, “don’t know, I’m trying to find out. I was hoping you had an idea.”

  Mitchem shook his head. Mike looked over at Dr. Randall. She was leaning against a desk. He nodded towards her, and pointed at her arm, “What’s wrong with you, Ma’am?”

  She didn’t answer, giving Mike a frosty glare. LTC Mitchem glanced at Dr. Randall, and then back at Mike, “I think she has a broken arm.”

  Mike nodded, “I can get Mickey to take a look at that. He’ll be able to tell us what is wrong. Is she in shock? How did she break her arm?”

  Dr. Randall was pale. He had no doubt that she was in shock. Hell, Mike was still in shock, and his arm wasn’t broken. He couldn’t imagine how she felt. The silence grew as neither of them responded to him. Nobody spoke, and the silence grew awkward. Mitchem didn’t like the question. Mitchem’s face turned red. Mike couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or fury. Probably a combination of the two. Mitchem’s anger started to boil to the surface. That was how LTC Mitchem responded to embarrassment, by threatening the world around him. He opened his mouth, about to retort. Mike didn’t know what was going on, didn’t care. They were probably knocking boots, and didn’t want Mike to know.

  Then, Mike heard what distinctly sounded like gunshots. Lots of gunshots.

  He forestalled LTC Mitchem’s fit by holding up his hand.

  “I don’t have time for this right now. We’ll talk later.”

  This wound up LT
C Mitchem even more, “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to Chief?” Fury stood out bright on his face.

  Mike turned and faced LTC Mitchem, “Those are gunshots, and I need to find out what’s going on. People may be dying, I don’t have time for your garbage. Sit down, shut up, help her, and I’ll be back for you.” Mike turned and ran quickly up the hallway. He entered the stairwell, and took the steps in two and threes, praying he didn’t break an ankle as he did so. Mitchem’s bile followed him as he ran.

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  They were busy with slaughter and violence, and didn’t realize what was happening behind them. Then they felt, more than heard, “Move!” as the speakers yelled out.

  Mike was in the power armor moving at full speed, a blur as he passed the team to engage with the giant predator. He could hear the gunfire quiet as he moved in front of them.

  After the six weeks of training, the armor moved like it was his own body. He was at a small disadvantage because of the angle of the floor, but it was not too bad. He moved forward to intercept the horror and to give his team time to put some more damage on it.

  “Keep firing!” he yelled.

  Everett looked at Lieutenant Pang. “Damn, I didn’t even think about the mech armor!”

  She looked back at him, “Yeah, me either. You heard the man. You don’t have anything here that’s going to harm him or the armor. Keep shooting at the monster!” She yelled to be heard over the sound of combat and the roar of the beast.

  “Grenades?” Mickey asked.

  Lieutenant Pang nodded her head, “Yes, anything that does damage, the more the merrier.”

  “Good,” Mickey replied, grabbing four frag grenades, then he ran forward to get close enough to deal some damage.

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  The monster was furious. Its body was aflame with pain. Anger and hatred drove it forward to kill the enemy. A large, black shape rose to interfere. It roared and jumped forward to meet the new challenger. As it slammed into Mike’s mech, he grabbed thetentacles and held on,gauntleted fist driving in, pummeling the monster’s face. Bone crunched, and blood exploded. The ridge over the knuckles of the gauntlet ripped into the face like a blade. Infuriated, it screamed as blood filled its eyes. The monster bit, wrapping its arms around the body of the mech armor. The rage of the monster mounted in frustration as the mech suffered no damage.

  Explosions rocked it, as it grappled. It felt the shrapnel of the grenades rip into it. Its hind legs ripped forward to disembowel the mech. It was weakening as the blows from the gauntlet rained down, and bullets and shrapnel shredded its body. Mike felt more bone give away. He wrapped the two arms of the mech armor around itsneck, and tightened. The great monster couldn’t breathe, and it tired as oxygen no longer fed the brain. Still, bullets and fragmentation rocked its body, the pain overwhelming. The power armor shifted as its rage was spent. Front legs collapsed, and it felt the power armor move to its back. Its throat collapsed, cartilage cracking, jaw askew, blood spitting from the mouth. The monster felt the bullets rip into its body, not able to hear explosions anymore. Death took the rage from it, and the body went slack.

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  Lieutenant Pang emptied shell after shell into the mouth of the beast. Its face was ruined by the mech gauntlet. Random twitches shook the body as death took it. It stilled, and no longer moved. Only at that point did the team knew that they had won. Mike didn’t let go of the beast, for a good long time, though. He wanted to make sure it was dead. As good measure, he punched the back of the beast’s neck until he felt the vertebrae give way, and he could see the severed spinal cord. The stench was horrible. Blood flowed from the carcass of the beast. Bowels opened as death took it. Carnage covered the floor, pooling down slope. The mech rose, covered in blood, excrement, lumps of flesh and crushed bone.

  He stood up and said, “ACE report.”

  All team members gave him thumbs up and reported green across the board. The team moved back to the pallet. He moved back with them. Debris crunched under foot as he walked the power armor back. He turned around and placed the power armor into the linebacker stance. He went through a modified power down, and opened up the back door of the armor. The stench hit him like a physical blow.

  There was blood everywhere, gore and chunks of flesh pooling below the armor. Thankfully, none of it was his, or the team’s. He stood up in the armor and faced his team, and the engineers, more than a few of them looking at Lieutenant Pang with a hell of a lot more respect. “Can anybody tell me what the hell that thing is?” he asked, in a very loud voice.

  The silence was absolute.

  “Can anybody tell me what the hell is going on around here?” he asked.

  More silence.

  The team was leaning against the pallet boxes and the floor. They looked tired. Adrenaline was starting to wear off, and the stress of the situation was beginning to tell on everybody.

  Bob walked up to the team, “Mike, I can’t tell you what’s going on, because I just don’t know. I think we’re going to have to tell you more about the power armor you’re using, though.”

  Lieutenant Pang looked up sharply at him, “Are you sure that’s wise?”

  Bob looked at her. Then he pointed at the great monster the team had just fought, “Lieutenant, I think they need all the armament we can give them. What if there are more of them where that one came from?”

  Lieutenant Pang nodded. Her hands trembled as she put the shotgun on safe and started feeding more shells into the magazine. “You’re right. Sorry I said anything.”

  “What armament are you talking about, Bob?” Mike asked.

  “Well, you know the slots on the forearms of your armor, right?” Bob asked.

  Mike nodded, “Yeah, it kind of looks like the rails we have on our rifles, so we thought something went there.”

  Bob spread his hands wide, “Well, it just so happens that we have high intensity lasers and small rail guns that fit those slots.”

  “What the hell is going on here? Why is there shooting in this facility? Who the hell authorized you people to shoot in my facility?” All heads swiveled towards the stairwell. It was Director Jamison. Where he came from Mike didn’t know. Maybe the doors to the first floor were finally open. Jamison stormed over to Mike, yelling as he walked. He was screaming at anybody that he could see, cursing everyone, yelling about the broken equipment and the wreckage piled against one wall. Jamison’s face had developed a tic. His hands were flapping by his side. The guy was seriously unstable. Mike was tired of Jamison’s petty posturing. Mike walked over to Jamison.

  “Director, would you please look over there, towards the service elevator.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Jamison hurled the words at Mike like it was a curse. Spittle was leaking from the corners of his mouth.

  Mike was done with Jamison’s fits. He could feel the anger swelling up in him. He grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket, shook him and yelled, “Look at the service elevator!”

  Jamison was livid, “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me! Damn you, you can’t speak to me like that! I’ll have your commission for this!”

  In for a penny, in for a pound. The team surrounded Mike and Jamison. Mike nodded at Mickey, “Mickey, escort the Director over to see our dead pet will you.”

  Mickey grinned, “Easy or hard?”

  Mike looked at the sputtering Jamison. “You can make it hard, but no damage to the director, please.”

  Mickey reached out with his baseball glove sized hands, grabbed Jamison by the scruff of his neck, and lifted. He started walking and pulling the Director towards the giant lizard. The man screeched and slapped at Mickey’s arm, trying to get free. Mickey kept dragging and carrying him, the director’s toes barely able to reach the ground. The engineering team goggled as they watched Mickey pick the man up with one hand and carry him over to the beast. They were used to Mickey as th
e gentle giant, the kind and caring medic, not the knuckle and skull bruiser that Mike knew he could be.

  “Take your hands off of me you, you ape,” the director yelled at Mickey. It wouldn’t do him any good. Mickey was the largest, strongest, man that Mike knew. And in the special operations arena, that was saying a lot.

  Mike looked into the worried eyes of Everett. He shrugged at the question that he saw there. Mike put up with the director’s garbage for weeks now. He was past his limit. The Director and LTC Mitchem were more interested in protocol and their egos. Mike was a survivor. He had been in some of the worst hell holes on the planet. He would make sure that this group of people had the best chance of survival that he could give them. Protocol was out the window on this one.

  He heard a, “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus,” from Jamison.

  “Well, at least we have one bit of good news now,” he announced.

  The team looked at him. Lieutenant Pang asked the question.

  “What good news is that?” she offered.

  Mike answered, “We know the way out.” He thought for a minute, “Hopefully,” he amended.

  Everett thought about this, “Oh hell.”

  Mike nodded. He pointed towards the service elevator. “My question is, if we have predator that big, what the hell is it preying on, and are there more of them up there?”

  There were curses as the new reality of the situation settled into everyone’s minds.

  “Uh, I may have a way to find out what is up there,” John Smith, the electrical engineer, had been one of the techs that stood toe to toe with the team to kill the monster.

  “What’s that?” Mike asked.

  “Big Dog,” was the reply he got.

  Mike looked into John’s eyes. He had no clue what the man was talking about.