“What rat?” Agent Allen drew her Glock from her holster.
“Follow me. You need to see this to believe it.” Still carrying his .357, Cal started down the stairs, Agent Allen and Camm close behind him. Agent Allen studied the walls intently as they descended, finally calling to Cal, “I don’t like this. We’re going too deep.”
Camm couldn’t help smiling. “After all we’ve been through, these old stairs are nothing.”
“Stay alert now,” Cal cautioned. “We don’t know if the rat is dead or alive, but we’ll soon find out.”
In the little room, a horrible, overwhelming smell of rotten eggs hit them. Agent Allen retched. The pile of bones and rows of skulls along the shelf appeared unchanged. The newest skull, from an adult human, sat near the end of the shelf and still had rotting meat clinging to it. Agent Allen’s face contorted with revulsion.
Cal waved at the shelf. “If you do forensics on these skulls, we think you will find the remains of Mr. Samuel, Hughie, and the other missing kids as well. The rat was a collector.”
Camm nudged Cal. “I thought the slime trail would lead us to another trap door. Do you see one?”
Cal looked around. “Nope.” He squinted forward and flashed his light on the painting. A blank canvas hung on the back wall. What once had been a life-like painting of a vicious green rat was now a painting of nothing.
The dark, misty background, the figures contorted in agony, even the chain—everything was gone. As Cal stepped forward to get a better look, he suddenly stepped back again. What he had mistaken for a pile of bones and green slime on the floor was actually something else, and it was moving.
On the dirt floor in front of the canvas, lay the beast. It was not dead, not quite. Its angry red eyes flashed as they reflected the light from Cal’s flashlight. The rat lay on its side, trying to breathe, the San Angelo Bar still sticking out of its chest, covered in brackish green gunk. A vile green fluid pulsed out from a hole in the middle of its forehead.
Agent Allen flinched, pointing her gun at the rat, retreating several steps. Its red eyes rolled around and glared directly at them, directly at Camm and Cal. Its lips curled back into one final snarl, but the effort was too much. Its head turned, snout pointed up; its eyes went glassy, and it stopped making any effort to breathe. A long, mud-colored tongue flopped out of its open mouth. It was dead, the dark green hole punched between its eyes telling the final tale.
“What the hell is that?” Agent Allen asked in amazement.
“A gigantic green rat—this is what we’ve been talking about,” Camm answered as if it were a common sight. “It has been eating the kids in Trona for years.”
“Did you kill it?” Agent Allen aimed her gun at it.
Cal thoughtfully nodded his head up and down. “I sure hope so.”
“Then you are in big trouble!”
All three whirled around to see one of the NSA men standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking from side to side as he studied the stone room. He wore a dark gray suit with a dull red tie and dark framed glasses. Apparently in his mid-fifties, he was overweight and had long, wavy white hair combed straight back.
Shouldering his way past them, he walked directly over to the green rat, showing no fear or revulsion. Kneeling next to it, he placed two fingers on its throat, searching for a pulse.
He sighed. “This is most unfortunate.”
Camm looked at him in disbelief. “Most unfortunate? This thing has been stealing little children and eating them! Here on planet earth, the death of this thing is most fortunate!”
The man sighed again and did not try to argue with Camm. He directed his attention to Agent Allen. “Please take these two kids upstairs and place them in custody until we figure out what we are going to do with them. They are to talk to no one, and I mean absolutely no one, until I say otherwise.”
“We have a constitutional right to an attorney,” Cal said defensively, and Camm nodded in agreement.
The man pointed up the stairs. “Get them out of here!”
Camm and Cal sat next to each other on a large boulder behind the mansion. The warm sun felt good, and Camm had finally stopped shivering. Cal had mentioned a couple times that the sulfurous fumes from the plant didn’t seem as bad as usual.
They were holding hands, which was only logical, since they were handcuffed together. For over an hour, they had sat there, watching the goings and comings from the backdoor of the mansion. Besides the two NSA agents and Agent Allen, there had been many other official government types passing in and out of the kitchen door, some dressed in white plastic overalls.
Though they were sitting very close, they said little to each other. At one point, Camm asked, “How are we going to explain all of this to our parents?”
Cal sighed, shook his head, but then grinned impishly. “At least we have an excuse for spending the whole night together.”
Camm wished she could punch him, but just shook her head and groaned. Looking over at the mansion’s ruined backdoor, she perked up and bumped a shoulder against Cal. “Agent Allen is coming, and she’s smiling. Maybe that bodes well for us.”
Camm greeted the approaching agent. “So, what’s the word? How bad is it? What’s going to happen to us?”
Agent Allen shook her head in disbelief. “Smith, you two must have one hell of a story to tell. I keep hearing NSA agents saying that you should not have been able to kill the rat. Too bad no one is ever going to hear your story. Something is going to happen to you, but you two will not be going to prison, because that would mean a trial and that would mean you could testify, and your testimony would become public record. That seems to be the last thing the NSA or anybody connected with that mansion wants.”
She glimpsed down at their hands, clasped with interlocked fingers, and her smiled broadened. “If you promise not to make a run for it, I will take off your cuffs.”
Camm and Cal shared a glance, then thrust their manacled hands toward her. Once Agent Allen had removed the cuffs, she shook her head, turned and left without further comment.
“How are you feeling now?” Cal asked Camm.
“Better. I am so glad to see the sun again. You’ll never catch me complaining about the heat after this.”
As the sun warmed her, Camm began to feel better. The nausea was gone, but her head still ached.
“You should still see a doctor.”
“Oh, Cal, stop acting like an old mother hen.”
“Well, you are an old mother hen.”
“You’re an old mother hen’s stinky butt.”
Cal just smiled and let her have the last word. Camm studied his eyes, and then laid her head on his shoulder. “Cal?”
“Yeah?”
“Why did you kiss me this morning, there in the mansion?”
“Well, you left yourself open. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long, long time. But I should remember not do it when you’ve just thrown up. Thanks, by the way, for not breaking my arm or anything else.” He smiled knowingly.
“You’re welcome.”
Twining her hand into Cal’s, she waited in silence until another NSA agent walked up. He was a little older and taller than the one they had encountered in the mansion’s subbasement. He had short white hair and walked with a limp. The two men looked like they could be brothers. He squatted in front of them and studied their faces closely, looking back and forth from face to face.
“Do you realize you two have made quite a mess of things?”
“We were saving lives,” Camm said defiantly. “We know that thing was killing children. We know it killed a bunch of people back in 1941. It had to die or it would just keep on killing people and eating little children, like Cal’s little brother, Hughie. You guys should have been the ones to kill it, but you didn’t. So we did. We did your job for you. We should get some kind of reward or something.”
As Camm lectured the NSA agent, Cal watched her expressions closely, thinking how much he enjoyed the way she
set her eyes and chin, especially now that she was bossing someone else besides him. For some reason, he felt like kissing her again.
The NSA agent, though, was not so inclined. His stare hardened and his voice took on a sharp edge. “You know some things, more than we ever suspected, but you don’t know everything. We are going to have to come to an understanding.”
This didn’t sound good. Cal turned his attention back to the agent. “What do you mean?”
“This was all part of an old, highly classified government program called Swift Creek. It goes all the way back to a couple of decades before World War Two. That’s all I can tell you about it, and I only tell you that much because you could find that out on your own in the public records.
“I have no doubt that your intentions were noble, that you thought you were making the world a better place. But you have no way of knowing the short and long-term ramifications of your actions. Because you did not know you were messing with a highly classified government program, you did not have mens rea.”
“Mens whoser?” Cal asked with concern.
Camm shushed him.
“It’s a legal term,” the man continued. “It’s Latin for ‘guilty mind.’ That means you did not have the intent necessary for us to charge you both with a federal crime. You may have intended your actions, but you could not have intended them to be treasonous.”
“Treasonous?” Camm gasped.
“That’s correct, but that was before this conversation. Now you know this has to do with a classified government program. If you come back here again, we will charge you both with treason.
“Additionally, we will be monitoring you. We keep track of all media, both print and broadcast. We are pretty good at it; we don’t miss a thing. Our computers also track virtually every website and blog for specific words and phrases.
“If either of you breathe a word about this mansion, Mr. Samuel, or his family, and especially—and I cannot stress this enough—anything about a large greenish rodent, we will find you, arrest you, toss you into prison, and throw away the key.
“Since this is a matter of national security, we can do that without giving you normal due process. Do you understand? You will disappear, and no one will ever know what happened to you.”
Cal furrowed his brow. “Dude, that is harsh!”
Camm exclaimed, “This is America!”
The agent held up his hand, cutting off further comments. “Believe me, we will be watching, or perhaps I should say, we will be listening. Not a word of this can be spoken to anyone—not to your parents, your teachers, your pastors, your friends, not to anyone. If you do, we will know. Trust me, we always know.
“Swift Creek has floated under the radar for so long it wasn’t getting the appropriate attention at executive levels of government, but it is now—thanks to you. This whole program has now become a high-priority item. You must believe me when I tell you that we will know if you say anything about this to anyone, ever. And we will come down on you like a ton of bricks.”
Camm said defiantly, “I think you’re just bluffing.”
Cal shook his head at Camm in disbelief, but was relieved to know he wasn’t the only one who could not intimidate her.
The agent moved in within inches of Camm’s face. “You do not want to try me.” There was silence as they sized each other up. Finally, he spoke again, “Do we have an agreement?”
Camm and Cal looked at each other. Cal swallowed. Camm said, “I guess we have no choice.”
“Good,” the man replied. “You finally understand, because you truly have no choice. I will have papers drawn up for you both to sign, and then we will let you go.”
Camm and Cal looked hesitantly at each other. Cal spoke up, “I don’t know if we should be signing anything.”
“It’s better than jail,” the man said. “Since you’re both eighteen, legally adults, we don’t have to let you go until you do, and once you sign these papers, there will be no doubt in a federal judge’s mind that you knew what you were doing. If you ever come back here again, a judge will have no problem putting you away forever. Now, wait here. I’ll be right back.”
As he walked away, he repeated over his shoulder, “Forever!”
XIX
Camm and Cal walked close together brushing against each other, but not holding hands. Camm glanced up and caught Cal’s intense gaze upon her, and she smiled. The memory of their kiss in the mansion was still fresh in her thoughts. Though neither had said anything more about the kiss, there was an unspoken understanding that their friendship had taken a new turn.
Behind them, the late-evening sunlight still lit their homes as they walked out into the desert. Several weeks had passed since their final encounter with the green rat, and they needed a place far away from prying eyes and listening ears to discuss some recent developments.
As children, when they wanted to talk, they would hike out to a large rock about the size of a pickup truck and shaped like a turtle. It was known throughout the neighborhood simply as Turtle Rock. They headed there now, figuring it might be the last place in the whole country not infiltrated by the NSA.
Climbing up on the rock, they found it warm and welcoming. Camm pulled out some chocolate chip cookies her mother had just made, and Cal immediately started munching. At the same time, he laid an opened envelope on the rock next to Camm.
“What’s that?” Camm asked, a smile hovering on her lips.
“Oh, nothing. Just an offer for a full-ride football scholarship to Florida State.”
“Cal, that’s wonderful!” Camm clutched his arm, genuinely excited. She had spent countless hours watching college football games with Cal and his family. Her dad was usually there, too. “It’s what you wanted, to play college football in a BCS program, and in the ACC no less. When will wonders ever cease?”
Cal’s face became serious. “You know as well as I do that big colleges don’t pay attention to dinky, little high schools like Trona. Isn’t it amazing that you get a full-ride, four-year scholarship all the way out to New Haven, Connecticut, to attend Yale, and I get a full-ride, four-year scholarship to go play football at Florida State?”
Camm laughed out loud, her eyes flashing in the glow of the sunset. “I know. It’s not coincidence. Strings were pulled to get us as far away from each other as possible, and as far away from Trona as they could arrange it. They don’t even want us coming back here for holidays. I’m sure that’s behind the new jobs for our parents.”
Camm’s father had been promoted to an R&D unit in Oklahoma City for a parent company that had an ownership interest in the Trona plant. The Smiths were moving in a few months.
Cal’s father, on the other hand, had been sought out and offered a lucrative position with a large oil refinery in Houston, Texas. His family was moving in the summer as soon as the kids got out of school.
“So what do we do?” Cal asked, looking meaningfully at Camm. “Do we let them manipulate us like this?”
Camm was smiling as she thought about it, and then she laughed again. “Why not? Let’s take advantage of these opportunities. I wanted to go to Yale before all this happened, and you always wanted to play football for a big school. Let’s do what we’ve always wanted. For now, anyway. Besides, if we did anything else, they would be all over us.”
Cal looked away, still not smiling. “It just makes me mad that they are trying to separate us like this. I was hoping we might go on to the same college after high school.”
Camm’s face softened. “I know. I don’t like it either, but this is our chance. We can go to college at government expense, and they really can’t separate us anyway. We both have cell phones; we can talk anytime we want. We’re still Team One; that won’t ever change. We will stay in touch while we let things cool off here in Trona. When we’re ready, Team One will come back and find out more about project Swift Creek. You know, raise some hell. Kill some freaky creatures. That kind of stuff.”
Camm punched Cal gently.
He took a deep breath and smiled, stretching out flat on the large rock, his hands clasped behind his head. “Well, I’m going to miss this rock. There is no way to let this rock’s comforting heat soak into my back through my cell phone.”
“I know, and I won’t be able to feed you cookies by phone either, but this will be a good thing, Cal. Trust me, we won’t be apart that long. In the end, it will be a good thing.”
“Okay, Camm, you’re the boss. You’re always the boss. I do trust you, and whatever you say sounds good to me.”
Camm socked him again. “You only say I’m the boss when you don’t disagree with me, but I like to hear you say it anyway.” She bit into a cookie and lay back next to him to soak up some of the rock’s heat herself.
In Camm’s mind, this encounter with the supernatural was not over, not by a long shot. There were still too many unanswered questions. She promised herself she would come back and get some answers. She would find out why the Trona plant needed the mansion, and why the NSA needed the Trona plant. What was the government hiding? And where did that big green rat come from?
Her jaw clenched. When Camm made herself a promise, she always kept it.
Consciousness stirred within it. Its heart slowly began to beat, circulating a green fluid through its veins. Thump. Thump. Thump. Slowly at first, but then faster and faster. With a gasp it took its first breath, another breath, and then another. Its foul breath filled the room. The stench of rotten eggs was suddenly overpowering.
A red eye blinked open, then another. It tried to get to its feet, but it was tied down, a heavy chain clamped tight to its hind leg. The chain seemed to vibrate with the rhythmic thumping of its heart. Somehow, its life was tied into the chain.
Hate and anger filled its heart and mind. An overwhelming hunger gradually filled every nook and cranny of its being.
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