by Greg Cox
Serizawa prayed they had not waited too long.
On the monitors, the data feeds all went silent. A hush fell over the control room.
“All readings are flat-lining,” Jainway reported.
“Is it dead?” Whelan asked.
Serizawa peered down into the murky pit. As nearly as he could tell, the cocoon remained intact, apart from a single long crack splitting its surface. Shadows filled the gap, making it impossible to discern what lay deeper within the cocoon. The bioluminous glow had been extinguished. No sound or motion could be detected from this height.
Jainway sagged back into his seat, looking drained. He clearly thought the crisis had been averted, as did various other technicians throughout the control room. The electricity appeared to have done the trick, but Serizawa remained on edge. There was too much at stake to take any chances.
“Get a visual,” he instructed.
* * *
Down in the pit, a work crew cautiously approached the charred cocoon. The metal grid beneath their feet was no longer electrified, but their hazmats suits included rubber boots regardless. Massive fragments of dislodged shell, the size of boulders, were embedded in the floor, forcing the workers to detour around them. Burnt and shattered scientific equipment further obstructed their path. The grilled flooring was dented and cratered, making it difficult to navigate. It was several minutes before they reached the base of the cocoon, which remained dark and inert.
The leader of the team, Koji Tanaka, ignited a handheld flare. An incandescent red glow cast light on the deep, jagged crack running up the blackened exterior of the looming cocoon. He peered up at the crack, but saw only a still, silent darkness. It appeared that the creature was indeed dead, but perhaps there was yet more they could learn by examining its remains?
The team drew nearer to the cocoon. Tanaka was about to report back to the control room, when he thought he spotted a glimmer of movement through the crack. At first he thought it might be just a trick of the light, but, no, something was definitely shifting deep within the cocoon. He squinted into shadows, while the rest of his team started shouted and pointing excitedly. They could all see it now: Elusive shapes—no, a single shape—stirring inside the cocoon, right before their eyes.
Tanaka’s mouth went dry. He began to back away warily.
A deafening howl erupted from the cocoon, echoing off the walls of the pit. Terrified, Tanaka and his team turned and ran frantically for their lives.
They didn’t get far.
A bone-rattling shock wave blasted from the cocoon, flinging the fleeing workers across the floor into the ruins and rubble. The concussive force disintegrated what remained of the cocoon, causing it to crumble into dust, even as a tremendous electromagnetic pulse blew through the entire base, shutting everything down. Tumbling through the air, Tanaka was already dead, his organs pulped, before he slammed into a disintegrating pile of debris.
The creature howled again.
* * *
The van rattled as though a bomb had gone off nearby. The dome-light in the ceiling, which had been flickering and off, went out completely, leaving Ford trapped in the dark. The blaring klaxons ceased abruptly, while a sudden blackout seemed to hit the entire facility. All the lights outside went dark simultaneously, so that only faint starlight illuminated the scene. The motorized cranes whirred to a stop.
What the—?
Ford was still trying to figure out what was happening, and whether he’d been completely forgotten, when the thunderous howl of some unknown creature rang out over the chaos. That was no machine or siren, Ford realized instantly. The ululating cry was unmistakably coming from something alive.
He couldn’t believe his ears, and a primordial fear gripped his heart. Bombs and blackouts he understood, and he had seen combat more than once. But the thought of what could have produced that savage wail defied his imagination.
What had his father said before? About some sort of animal…?
* * *
Joe found himself alone in the improvised interrogation room. Fitzgerald and the guards had run off, distracted by the crisis, which had apparently caught them completely by surprise. He remembered the feeling.
You should’ve listened to me, he thought bitterly. I should’ve made you listen.
The lights went out, just as they had at the plant years ago. He heard an electronic lock click as the power shorted. He tried the door and found it unlocked. Cautiously sticking out his head out the door, he glanced around but didn’t see any more guards in the vicinity. He wasn’t surprised. If history was indeed repeating itself, as he feared, then the people here had a lot bigger problems on their hands than one trespassing engineer.
This was his chance, he realized, to find out the truth at last.
* * *
Along with his fellow scientists, Serizawa stared down into the abyss, which was lit only by the intermittent strobing of the emergency lights. The steel-mesh net over the pit remained intact, further obscuring his view of the creature below, which had obviously survived their attempt to electrocute it. Despite the danger posed by the monster, Serizawa marveled at its obvious strength and endurance. They had sent enough voltage through the grid to fry a great white whale, but the creature was still alive and free from its cocoon.
We waited too long, he realized. It’s grown too strong.
The erratic lighting frustrated him. Straining his eyes, he could make out only the vague impression of some gargantuan form moving below. He caught sporadic glimpses of gigantic red eyes and gleaming fangs. The biologist in him was anxious to see the adult form of the organism, now that it had completed its metamorphosis from the larval stage that had hatched from the Philippine egg sac fifteen years ago, even as he feared for humanity as well.
What exactly had just emerged into the night?
Beside Serizawa, Whelan gasped as the shadowy beast pressed up against the cable netting, testing its cage. The creature heaved upward, shaking the entire pit. Steel scaffolding and support beams began to buckle alarmingly. Tortured metal screamed in protest. The crow’s nest bucked beneath Serizawa’s beneath feet, and he had to grab onto a window sill to maintain his balance. Graham stumbled against him, her face pale.
“Evenyone out!” Whelan shouted. “Now!”
His palm slammed down on a panic button.
* * *
A bewildering assemblage of steel gantries and elevated walkways circled the site of the former power plant, overlooking a sinkhole of Biblical proportions. Joe made his way through the unfamiliar complex, heading toward the center, even as a mass evacuation got underway, triggering a distinct sense of déjà vu. Hundreds of fleeing workers, many wearing radiation suits similar to his own, rushed past him, descending from metal catwalks and stairways in a desperate exodus. In their haste, nobody noticed an unfamiliar face amidst the crush. Joe jostled through the tide of humanity, like a salmon fighting its way upstream. He alone was heading toward the source of the chaos—and the inhuman howl.
I have to see it, he thought. I have to know what’s down there.
Another deafening wail could be heard above the tumult. He forced his way along the gantries, drawn by the sound of the creature. The terrifying screech was proof that he wasn’t crazy after all, that he had been right all along.
He hoped Ford understood that now.
* * *
Trapped in the van, Ford found himself forgotten in the midst of an increasingly hellish nightmare. Fleeing workers and emergency crews raced past the van by the dozens, oblivious to the desperate American handcuffed inside the vehicle. The cuffs dug into his wrist as he tried unsuccessfully to wriggle his hand free. He shouted frantically at the people running by.
No one listened or even glanced in his direction. They were all too busy trying to get away from… what?
* * *
Joe crept along the gantry toward the pit. One level below, a crew of unusually courageous emergency workers warily approached the edge of the gi
ant sinkhole. All at once, some enormous creature, its exact contours obscured by darkness and a net of heavy steel cables, shoved up against its cage. An angry screech conveyed its displeasure at being trapped.
The earsplitting cry convinced the workers to turn and run like hell. Joe didn’t blame them; it was a natural response to the gargantuan monster trying to force itself out into the world. He would have run himself if he hadn’t spent the last fifteen years looking for answers. This could be his last chance to find out exactly what had destroyed the plant years ago—and why Sandra died.
Luckily for the fleeing mortals, the creature retreated back into the pit after its failed attempt to breach the net. Brody was impressed by the size of the cage, admiring the foresight and ingenuity of the engineers who had designed and implemented the ambitious safety measure. The creature’s bellicose howl faded away. It appeared the cage had worked.
Thank God, Joe thought. He wanted desperately to lay eyes on the creature, but that didn’t mean he wanted to see it run amok. That monster’s caused enough havoc already.
Then a giant black appendage rose up through a gap in the cables. Joe’s eyes bulged at the sight. At first he thought it was a limb of some sort, but then he realized that it was actually just a single hooked claw. His mind reeled at the sheer scale that implied. For the love of God, how big was this thing?
The crooked talon hooked onto the taut steel cables, gripping them. It began pulling downward on the net, exerting tremendous force. The heavy cables stretched and strained at their moorings. The catwalks overlooking the pit started to tip precariously as they were wrenched loose, so that they dangled at alarming angles above the sinkhole and the creature below. All six cranes, each over 150 feet tall, began to tip toward the pit like fishing poles being dragged down by an over-sized catch. Twisting metal squealed as if in agony.
Joe gasped as the gantry quaked beneath him. He stumbled backwards, away from the railing. Suddenly the ingenious steel “cage” didn’t seem quite as impressive—or reassuring—as it had been only moments ago. Hearing metal shriek, he spun around and saw the groaning cranes begin to buckle and bend catastrophically. The veteran engineer foresaw the collapse only seconds before it unfolded. One by one, each crane gave way in sequence, crashing down like a row of towering dominoes. More workers raced in terror from the falling cranes, each of which had to weigh at least two hundred tons. The screams of the trapped crane operators were drowned out by the din of warping steel and one earth-shaking impact after another.
Jesus Christ, Joe thought. It’s tearing this whole place down!
One of the cranes toppled over, falling straight toward Joe. Adrenalin and reflexes kicked in and he dived for safety only a heartbeat before the top of the crane crashed onto the gantry right where he had been standing moments before. It felt like another tremor had struck, rolling Joe across the walkway. Amazed to find himself still alive, he staggered to his feet and looked around.
Several fleeing workers had not been so lucky. They lay crushed beneath the fallen crane. Heads, limbs, and torsos had vanished, buried beneath the heavy piece of construction equipment. Spreading pools of dark arterial blood, looking almost black in the night, seeped out from beneath the mangled steel. Joe could tell at a glance that most of the victims had been killed instantly.
He wondered if they were the lucky ones.
* * *
This is insane, Ford thought. I can’t die like this!
He fought the handcuffs with all his might. His wrist was raw and bleeding, but the cuffs still refused to yield. The perverse absurdity of his situation was enough to drive him nuts. He could disarm a bomb in the middle of a battlefield, but he couldn’t get out of a damn van when this entire place was coming down on top of him?
He stopped tugging on cuffs, recognizing the futility of his exertions.
I’m sorry, Elle, Sam, I tried my best. His heart broke at the prospect of never seeing his family again. I always meant to come home to you.
A falling crane hit the rear of the van like a giant hammer, shearing off the rear doors and sending the parked vehicle into a spin. Ford cried out, but had no time to react to this heart-stopping shock. Held in place by the cuffs, which yanked viciously on his wrist and arm, he tumbled violently inside the spinning van. His body slammed into the interior wall, knocking the breath from him. Whiplash twisted his back. For an endless moment, his world turned into a bruising carnival ride.
Then, finally, the van came to rest several yards away from its starting point. Dazed, his heart racing, Ford found himself staring out the missing back half of the van, which now faced the heart of the mysterious complex. The facility was apparently constructed around an enormous pit where Ford guessed the Janjira Nuclear Power Plant had once stood. Compared to the crashing din of moments ago, there was a sudden silence—until he heard what sounded like sturdy steel cables straining against some inconceivable force.
The animal, he realized. The one Dad tried to tell me about.
That chilling, mind-boggling realization was enough to snap him out of daze and take stock. It occurred to him that the crashing steel crane might have been a blessing in disguise. Hurriedly checking the security rail, he felt a surge of excitement as he saw that the sturdy steel had been cracked by the accident. It took him a few anxious moments, but he managed to slide the cuffs of the rail, setting him free at last.
Yes! he thought. That’s more like it!
Wasting no time, he clambered out of the wrecked van by way of its missing back half. His radiation suit was still clumsy and uncomfortable, but, this close to the old reactors, he wasn’t about to take it off—even if none of the guards had been wearing them before. He kept the helmet and gas mask in place.
He glanced around the darkened base, trying to get his bearings. The fallen crane lay between him and a steep ridge beyond. Steel catwalks and scaffolding spread across the ridge like overgrown foliage, but he could still dimly glimpse the pit beyond. Metal cables continued to creak and groan. He started toward the scaffolding, wondering how on Earth he was going to find his father in this chaos, when frantic pounding seized his attention. He quickly spotted where it was coming from.
A Japanese crane operator was trapped inside the control booth of the capsized crane. The compartment was partially caved-in, so that there was barely enough room for the man inside, and the exit door was a twisted mass of crumpled metal. It was going to take a blowtorch, or maybe the “Jaws of Life,” to extricate the operator from the crushed compartment. The man’s face was bloodied and contorted with fear. His fists hammered against the cracked window of the booth. From the looks of things, his legs were probably broken. Frankly, it was a miracle he was still alive.
He locked eyes with Ford, who hesitated, uncertain what to do.
I need to find my father, but…
* * *
Ford!
Joe spotted his son from his elevated vantage point atop the quaking gantry. Ford was down below, still wearing the same secondhand radiation suit, and staring at the crushed operator booth of one of the fallen cranes. Joe watched with growing concern as Ford stepped over a tangle of steel cables stretching between the crane and the net above the pit. The cables went taut as the creature tugged again at the bars of its cage, dragging the cables toward the pit. Distracted by some drama below, Ford didn’t seem to realize that he was standing in the path of the cables, which were shifting toward him.
“Ford!”
Ford was too far away to hear Joe’s shouting over all the other commotion. Frantic, Joe rushed along the wobbling gantry, forcing his way past a stampede of terrified workers. He had to fight not to get carried backwards by the crush of bodies fleeing. Joe waved his hands in the air, yelling at the top of his lungs.
“Ford!”
But Ford still couldn’t hear him. Unaware of the danger posed by the moving cables, he appeared intent on rescuing somebody trapped in the crane’s demolished control booth. The cables jerked again with anoth
er powerful tug from below, which also jolted the gantry beneath Joe. The elevated steel walkway creaked and teetered, tossing Joe from side to side. His elbow smacked painfully into a guardrail, but Joe barely noticed. He sprinted further across the unsteady gantry, even as everyone else scrambled in the opposite direction. The fear-maddened crowd thinned out, clearing his way, as he raced to get within earshot of his son. His eyes widened in horror as the taut cables began to drag the entire crane toward the pit.
“Ford! Get back now!”
Ford heard his father shouting. Startled, he looked up to see Joe staring down at him from an elevated walkway. He couldn’t quite make out what his dad was yelling, but the utter terror on Joe’s face was clear enough. Metal scraped loudly against the pavement, throwing off sparks, as the collapsed crane surged toward Ford. Hundreds of tons of lethal metal and machinery threatened to flatten him like a runaway train.
He dived out of the way, forced to abandon the trapped operator. The crane swept past him, carrying the operator to his doom. Their eyes met briefly before the control booth, along with the rest of the crane, was yanked into the waiting pit. Ford wondered briefly if the man had a family…
Joe kept shouting at him from above. Scrambling to his feet, Ford looked up at his father again—just as the plummeting crane hauled down the entire elevated gantry Joe was standing on. Ford barely had time to register what was happening before the metal scaffolding collapsed, taking Joe with it. Crumpled steel landed in a heap at the edge of the giant sinkhole, atop a jutting concrete ridge.
“DAD!!!”
Ford rushed toward the wreckage, praying that Joe was still alive somewhere in the towering pile of debris. He couldn’t lose his father now, not like this! He needed to apologize to his dad for never really listening to him, for thinking he was crazy all these years. Who knew that it was the world that had gone mad—and that Joe Brody was the only person sane enough to see that?
The ruins of the collapsed gantry loomed before him. A thick cloud of dust and pulverized concrete rose from the debris. He was almost there—