by L. T. Ryan
Sean wanted to locate Turk so he could avoid him. He knew the man would again ask what happened. If Sean lied a second time, it would show on his face. Keeping Jules away from Turk was also a high priority because he appeared to still be on edge over the situation. Every couple hundred feet or so during their journey, Jules would mutter something to the effect of, “What the frig was that thing? Never seen no man take that kind of damage and keep moving.” Sean had to constantly remind his partner to keep quiet in case there were more of those things around.
Jules’s question and observation were legit, as far as Sean was concerned. He’d completed PJ training over ten years ago. During that time, he’d been in some of the worst places imaginable. He’d seen people wounded in any of a hundred different ways. He’d had to use deadly force on a number of occasions in an effort to complete a mission.
Through it all, he’d never seen someone handle a catastrophic injury and keep on coming. Perhaps, as he guessed, they weren’t dealing with a someone. But what, then? An alien? He chuckled at the thought.
Jules turned his head. His thick eyebrows were furrowed over his dark eyes. “What the frig are you laughing about?”
Sean shrugged, brushed off Jules’s question. Not because he wanted to ignore the man, though. He had locked eyes with Turk, and the SEAL was crossing camp, heading in their direction.
Turk was one of the most intimidating men Sean had ever been around. It wasn’t only his physical traits. All SEALs were built and fast and tough. Turk had something else about him. The guy had close to twenty years in the Navy, almost all of them as a SEAL. Two of those years had been spent in a dirt hole four foot wide and ten foot deep, crisscrossed iron bars at the top, trapping him inside. One day, his captors made a mistake and forgot to lock down the gate atop the hole. According to Turk, he waited an hour or so for the sun to set, and then scaled the muddy walls. He said he left one of his captors alive, but only after removing the man’s genitals and forcing him to eat them. A warning, he said, that they should never fuck with SEALs. Turk was legendary within the SEAL community. Hell, he was legendary in the Special Forces community. It always gave Sean a sense of calm when Turk was in charge of a mission.
“What’s wrong with him?” Turk said, nodding at Jules.
Sean hesitated. If he said the wrong thing, Turk would know he was bullshitting him. And if he took too long to answer, Turk would grow suspicious. More so than he appeared to be.
“Well?” Turk said. “Your tongues tired from making out on the way over here?”
A few members of the SEAL team turned to look. Sean saw grins plastered on their faces. He knew that if he was going to tell Turk what happened, the two of them should step away from the camp. It was as much to prevent rumors of Sean’s impending lunacy as it was to prevent panic among the ranks.
“Turk,” Sean said. “Let’s talk over there.” He pointed to a distant spot.
“All right,” Turk said. “What about him?” He gestured toward Jules again.
Sean looked at his partner. The man looked lost and Sean figured that Jules would be better off staying behind.
“He’ll wait here,” Sean said.
They walked in silence for fifty yards. Sean remained alert. He’d armed himself with his H&K MP7 and affixed the suppressor. The bullets weren’t any stronger than his 9mm, but he could fire in a semi-automatic burst of three rounds, giving him a greater chance of incapacitating his target.
“What are you so sketchy about, Ryder?” Turk asked.
“Turk,” Sean said, “it wasn’t a boar.”
“No shit.”
Sean was glad he didn’t attempt to lie to the man.
“We were attacked,” Sean said.
“Why didn’t you say so?” Turk said.
“In case we lost integrity of our communications. I didn’t want to endanger you. We were passing through an area that you guys hadn’t. As far as they knew, Jules and I were alone.”
Turk nodded. “Okay, go on.”
Sean took a deep breath, looked up at the thinly veiled moon, then exhaled. “It came out of the bushes.”
“It?” Turk crossed his arms and leaned back.
“You heard all the shots, yeah?”
Turk nodded.
“That was for one, uh, man,” Sean said.
“Eleven frickin’ shots?” Turk widened his stance as he took a step back.
Sean nodded. The story sounded better in his head, believable. But as the words left his mouth, he knew that he’d have a hard time convincing Turk of what happened.
“I’m calling bullshit. You guys gotta be better shots than that. I don’t care if you are Air Force.” He paused and grinned momentarily over his jab at Sean. “I want to see the damn body.”
“Turk,” Sean said. “You don’t want to do that. There’s more I have to tell—”
Turk had already turned and was jogging toward camp. He stopped and yelled for two of the men to meet him, then he turned back toward Sean. “C’mon, Ryder. You’re taking us to the body.”
Sean wondered what the hell he’d gotten himself into.
“Jules going to accompany us?” Turk asked.
Sean shook his head. No way he’d lead Jules back down that path. The guy might go insane by the time they made it back to camp.
“You remember where you left the body?” Turk asked.
“Yeah,” Sean replied. “I remember.”
They started back in the direction of the attack. Sean walked fast, having already been through the territory and feeling more comfortable about his chances with three members of SEAL Team 8 surrounding him. If another one of those things attacked, the men would be on it like white on rice. They’d fill it so full of holes it wouldn’t have a chance to reach them.
They found the location where the thing had attacked, but the body was gone.
“What?” Turk asked, likely wondering why Sean had stopped.
“I don’t understand,” Sean said. “It was here. We left the body where it fell.”
“You sure this is the right spot?” Turk said.
Sean nodded. He panned his flashlight on the ground, stopped when spent shells glinted in the light.
“Those are proof,” Sean said. “This is where it happened.”
“Blood,” Spencer said. “Pool of it here. It looks like your guy was dragged into the brush over there.” He shone his light in a zigzag pattern against the dense vegetation.
“Don’t do that,” Sean said.
Turk said, “So there was more than one guy, huh Ry—”
A scream erupted from beyond the trail of blood. “Whoooo-aaaaaaah.” Low to high, guttural and primal.
“The hell was that?” Turk said.
A similar-sounding scream ripped through the still night from the opposite direction, maybe a hundred yards or so from where they stood. The ambient sounds of nature disappeared, giving way to the echo of the screams.
“We need to move,” Sean said. He hadn’t had time to allow fear to invade his psyche at the time of the earlier attack. It was kill or die at that time. But now, after knowing what those things were capable of, and the set of shrieks indicating that he and the SEALs weren’t alone, he found himself wishing that he and Jules hadn’t been called upon for this mission. What was the mission? Was this the reason why they hadn’t been told why they were out here? Someone didn’t have the balls to tell them they were dealing with some kind of mutated sub-human species?
The deafening silence was interrupted by the sound of a twig snapping, perhaps under the pale foot of one of those beings. Sean prepared himself for the next shrill scream, or worse, another one of those things to rush at them from behind the veil of darkness. If he weren’t clutching his weapon so tightly, he was positive his hands would be shaking uncontrollably.
Turk remained motionless. His eyes were closed, his head tilted back. An attempt to tune himself to the environment, Sean presumed. He figured that after two years in a muddy hole, nothing wo
uld be entirely frightening anymore. No situation too dangerous. Death would pass by with a wink and a smile, knowing it had been bested once already.
“Anyone else smelling that?” Turk said, his voice low so as not to be heard too far from their position.
“That’s the way it… he smelled,” Sean said. “It looked, I don’t know, rotten, and covered in shit.”
“Got the shit part right,” Turk said.
They remained in the same spot for another five minutes. There were no more screams, no twigs snapping. The smell faded, or perhaps they had become used to it.
“Let’s get outta here,” Turk said. “Ryder, you cover the back. I’ll be point. You two watch the side. Move slow and then haul ass on my command.”
Sean had been too preoccupied with the situation to check his watch before they left camp. He wasn’t sure how long it took them to reach the spot of the attack, but he estimated their return at less than eight minutes. They walked slowly at first, every step a deliberate attempt to not be noticed and to notice anything that might be watching them. After a couple hundred yards, they increased their pace to a run.
When they reached the camp, Sean found Jules sitting alone. He dropped his gear and sat down next to his partner.
“How’d it go?” Jules asked. “What’d they do with the body?”
Sean contemplated his answer for a minute. Lying would be the best option if he were partnered with any other PJ. But he couldn’t lie to Jules, the man would see right through him. He had to be straight with the man.
“Body was gone,” Sean replied.
Jules turned his head and swallowed hard. “What d’ya mean? Missing?”
Sean hiked his shoulders an inch, shook his head. “It was gone, man. Shells on the ground. Pool of blood where it collapsed. There was a trail of blood that led into the brush where it had come out from.”
“You think it got back up?”
“Nah,” Sean said. “You saw its head. It looked like the body was dragged away.”
“There’s more.” A statement, not a question.
Sean nodded. “Heard one of those howls from inside the brush. Close. Then another one from the opposite side, but further away. If you asked me, I’d say it was two more of them, and they were communicating.” He placed his palm on the ground and kicked his legs out from under himself. “And the smell, man. That rotten, shit-stained smell was still there.”
“What’d Turk say?” Jules turned his head slightly and looked at Sean out of the corner of his left eye, presumably in an attempt to gauge Sean’s reaction to the question.
Sean didn’t hesitate with his response. “I think he thinks I’m full of it. But he sure as hell was cautious when we started back.”
Jules nodded and said nothing.
“Wish we’d found that body. Maybe we’d be getting out of here if we had.”
“You think that’s why we’re out here? Those things?”
“I don’t know, man. I don’t know.” Sean hopped up. “Why don’t you get some sleep, Jules? I’ll watch out for a while then we’ll switch.”
“They’ll have someone watching.” Jules lifted his chin and nodded toward the SEALs.
“They’ll be watching their own asses if those things show up here. We gotta watch our own.”
Three
Turk lay on the packed ground with nothing but a dull green sheet between him and the dirt. He interlaced his fingers behind his head and crossed his feet at the ankles. A hill jutted up from the ground a half-mile away, silhouetted by the rising moon, which was wide and oval and red. Turk watched the moon rise above the hill and ascend into the sky, turning small and circular and white. In less than ten minutes the orb shrunk to a tenth of the size it had been when he first saw it.
It was bright enough that Turk didn’t need to use his flashlight to see the bodies that lay on the ground around the campsite. He easily spotted the dark outlines of his two men that were on patrol. They circled the site, keeping watch for whatever was out there. The moon also provided enough light that he was able to make out the shapes of shrubs dotting the hillside. He couldn’t see them with any detail. He was too far away and it was too dark for that. But, he could tell they were there.
However, when one of the shrubs started moving toward the ridgeline, Turk became nervous. He got up and grabbed his SIG and his MP7. He held the former in his hand and strapped the latter across his chest. He reached into his bag and grabbed his night vision goggles and placed them on top of his head. Creating as little sound as possible, he crept in between and around his men, trying not to disturb them.
Ruiz turned to face Turk as he approached the outer perimeter of camp.
“What’s up, T?” Ruiz said.
“Going to check something out. Nothing to be alarmed about. I’m not going far, and I’ll radio in if something’s wrong.”
“You got it, Chief,” Ruiz said, turning away and returning to his duties.
Almost twenty years in and Turk was rate capped at Chief. He’d never be a Senior Chief, or a Master Chief. Although, there were some who told him he was asshole enough to be either. But if Turk wanted to advance any further, he’d have to change rates. Hell with that, Turk thought.
Twenty yards away from camp, he donned his night vision goggles and began to scan the landscape. It was then that he realized the hillside had no shrubs on it. They were people, and they were on the move. Their movements carried them away from the campsite, so for now, Turk intended only to watch them. He crouched low and scanned the hillside. There were at least two dozen of them and they all walked up the hill, at an angle, to their left. Their gait was odd, and they seemed to move slowly. Turk thought it appeared as though some of them were dragging a leg, or maybe had trouble lifting both feet off the ground.
Turk worked his eyes up and down the hill in a zigzag pattern, ensuring he didn’t miss a straggler. The people stopped walking once they reached the hilltop. They didn’t bunch up tightly, but they did form a gathering. Their heads dropped back. They seemed to be looking up at the moon. Through the night vision goggles, they looked pale, and their eyes either dark as coal or completely translucent.
Turk had to remind himself to keep his eyes moving and not remain focused on the group at the top of the hill. He scanned the hillside and saw no more bodies moving. He returned his gaze to the group, then looked to the right of them. Another group had gathered at the far end of the hilltop, and had begun moving toward the people in the middle. Turk then looked toward the left side of the hill. There he saw dozens of them lined up in single file, moving slowly toward the middle of the hill.
What were they doing?
They didn’t appear to be armed, although Turk couldn’t be sure without seeing them up close. They could have side arms hidden underneath their clothes. Turk realized that their clothes were odd. It didn’t matter whether they took the form of a man or a woman, they all appeared to be wearing gowns. Not robes, like you might see in certain areas of this continent. They were dressed in gowns that Turk could only compare to hospital gowns.
Turk wanted to get a better look. He had to determine the real reason for SEAL Team 8 being in Nigeria that night. He thought it over for a minute, decided to ascend the hill. He stayed low and moved slow. He didn’t climb straight up, instead he used a left-to-right pattern, choosing to head more toward the left each pass so that he would come up a hundred yards or so away from the group. Since they appeared to not be carrying rifles, that would be far enough away that their aim with handguns would be somewhat compromised.
The entire time he climbed, Turk kept his eyes on the group, whether he was moving toward them or away from them. As the walkers met with the group in the middle, their heads inevitably turned upward to stare at the moon. Turk stopped to get another look at the sight. It appeared that they did not blink. They stood, stock still, staring up at a big hunk of glowing space rock. The spectacle struck Turk as odd. He decided to continue moving upward to get a better look.
He didn’t take two steps before people on the outer edge of the formation atop the hill began turning around. Turk froze in place, held his breath. He watched the men and women shuffle in a semi-circle, facing his direction. He exhaled slow and low, then crouched when they continued turning around. Fifteen seconds later, they all faced the opposite direction and began traversing down the hill. Turk waited half a minute, then began moving, this time taking a line straight to the ridge. He had no idea what was on the other side, and didn’t want to lose sight of the crowd of people.
It took a few minutes for Turk to reach the top. When he did, he lowered himself to his stomach and crawled the few remaining feet to the ridgeline. As he poked his head over, he saw that the hillside was barren. The people had already reached the bottom of the hill and now walked away from Turk and into a valley. A dozen or so split off to the left and slipped into a growth of bushes. There were a few stragglers that appeared to drop to their knees and lean over something placed on the ground. Turk couldn’t make out what, though. It appeared to be another shape on the landscape. Eventually, the people rose and joined the others in the bushes.
The rest of the people converged on a central spot directly below Turk. As the group appeared to thin out, Turk realized that, one by one, they disappeared into a black hole, an entrance.
To what, though?
Turk wasn’t sure, but he felt certain that whatever or wherever the hole led to, it was the reason he, his men, and the two PJs were in Nigeria.
The last person slipped into the hole, and the landscape below him became still. In fact, he felt it was too still. There was no sound at all, no rodents or insects or birds.
Turk began to slide backward in preparation to return to camp when he saw four more bodies approaching from the left. He flattened his body, held his breath. He worked his hands underneath his chest to grip his MP7 in case the group noticed him.
They didn’t though. They walked right past him, then, in the same spot as all the others, descended the hill. Turk decided not to resume position atop the hill to investigate the smaller group any further.