Kaiju Inferno (Kaiju Winter Book 3)

by Jake Bible

  The monster on the screen is hunched down, but suddenly lurches up, its massive head stretching on its neck, its arms that had been tucked in to its sides, shooting out and grasping a smaller monster, a thing looking like a skinny turtle without a shell. Its huge mouth opens, hinging its head backwards and then it chomps into the turtle thing, sending greenish blood spurting everywhere.

  “Baby is hungry,” VanderVoort says then puts her hand to her swollen belly. “Mommy is not. Not after seeing that.”

  The massive beast stands fully upright and shows it has over a dozen legs under its squat torso and huge head. A dozen thin, spindly legs that quiver and twitch around it, moving it swiftly from one spot to another.

  “That’s just wrong,” Director Miles says. “What the hell?”

  “This region doesn’t have advance troops,” Alvarez says. “Just feeders.”

  “Move on,” VanderVoort says. “Before I lose my appetite.”

  “Australia,” Dr. Hall says.

  “If it’s a damn giant kangaroo then I’m quitting,” Director Miles says. “I’ll spend the rest of the apocalypse in the lounge making mint juleps and mojitos.”

  “Not a kangaroo,” Dr. Hall says. “More like a giant monitor lizard.” He switches the view. “In fact, it is basically exactly like a giant monitor lizard.”

  “Komodo Dragon,” VanderVoort says. “On some serious steroids.”

  “Pretty much,” Dr. Hall nods. “The second it emerged, it swam to the mainland.”

  “Only advance troops,” Alvarez says. “No feeders. And the advance troops are just small versions of the big one.”

  “A brood?” VanderVoort asks.

  “Possibly,” Dr. Hall says. “The lack of feeder creatures makes me nervous. That could mean these are highly skilled predators and plan on finding food easily.”

  “I share your nervousness on that,” VanderVoort says.

  “China,” Dr. Hall says. “This one is simian and reptilian at the same time.”

  “Monkey lizard,” Alvarez says. “Not as big as the others, maybe half the size. It’s staying close to its volcano and is ignoring the smaller ones scurrying away. That’s troubling too.”

  “It may be guarding something it feels is important,” Dr. Hall says. “Could be this isn’t the apex and it is waiting for a larger species to emerge.”

  “Keep going,” VanderVoort says.

  “Iceland,” Dr. Hall says. “This one is aquatic. Gone from view in seconds.”

  Everyone watches the video as the thing bursts from its volcano and flops towards the ocean, diving quickly, lost from sight in a blink.

  “It looks to be similar to a wyvern,” Dr. Hall says. He receives blank stares. “Like a dragon, but no front arms. The wings are the arms. But these wings are more finlike and the rear legs look bunched, like they can add a lot of speed by kicking hard.”

  “No advance troops, no feeders,” Alvarez says. “This one is solo.”

  “Move it along, gentlemen,” VanderVoort says.

  “Kenya is a spider,” Dr. Hall says. “Well, if spiders had thirty-six legs that sprouted all over their bodies.”

  “Damn, that one is worse than the Easter Island freak,” Director Miles says.

  “We can do without the commentary, Gordon,” President Nance says from his seat at the table behind them. “It is distracting. Ms. VanderVoort is allowed her running dialogue, but the rest of us would appreciate you being silent as we all try to process this.”

  “Yes, of course, sir,” Director Miles says. “That’s my cue for a mint julep. I’ll catch up later. You aren’t going anywhere, are you?”

  “I plan on sticking around for a bit,” VanderVoort sneers.

  “Good,” Director Miles nods. “Call me if one looks like a giant Angelina Jolie.”

  “As I was saying,” Dr. Hall continues. “It is segmented like a spider, with hundreds of eyes above some very scary looking mandibles, but its legs are distributed all over its body.”

  The room watches as the thing scrambles in all directions easily, never having to slow down since it has enough legs to always propel it and keep it on balance.

  “What’s that leave us?” VanderVoort asks.

  “France is about as dragon like as they get,” Dr. Hall says. “Including wings. No scales, though. The skin is smooth and almost translucent.”

  “Yuck,” VanderVoort says. “Others?”

  “Squat advance troops,” Alvarez says. “Like bulldogs with armor and spikes covering their backs.”

  “Food?” VanderVoort asks.

  “Snake things,” Alvarez says. “Slow like worms, but they still have teeth to them.”

  “Italy?” VanderVoort prompts.

  “Just a different version of France,” Dr. Hall says. “Three heads, though.”

  “Like the ones that spit out the flying tortillas?” VanderVoort asks.

  “Uh, sure,” Dr. Hall says. “Like that.”

  “That leaves Antarctica,” Alvarez says. “No apex. Only advance troops and feeders. The advance troops are very similar to the six-legged ones that came out of Yellowstone. Feeders are like the four-legged ones.”

  “Strange,” VanderVoort says. “What’s the connection?”

  “We have no idea,” Dr. Hall says.

  “Find out,” VanderVoort orders.

  “We will,” Alvarez says.

  “I’m sure,” VanderVoort smiles. “You two make a good team. A weird team, but a good one.”

  She turns to the men and women seated at the long table.

  “Now, let’s get back to summing up,” she says. “I want everyone working on our original plan of attack. The monsters around the globe are not the main priority. We need to secure our turf first. We test strategies and see what works. Take down the home team and then we look to the visitors. Understood?”

  The many nods and murmurs say it is understood by all.

  “Adrianna?” President Nance asks, standing and walking to the woman. “A word?”

  “As many as you’d like, Charles,” VanderVoort says.

  “When this is all over,” he says, sweeping his hand across the room. “If we make it out alive and can return to the surface, what then? What becomes of you? What is the structure of power?”

  “Marshall law, of course,” VanderVoort replies. “It will take an iron hand to get things put back together. I won’t be part of that. I’m strictly the big game hunter, not the zookeeper. You get to deal with the animals when we are finished here.”

  “I’m confused,” President Nance says. “You are the one dealing with the monsters, not me.”

  “I didn’t say you’d deal with the monsters, Charles,” VanderVoort says. “I said animals. It was a euphemism. I was talking about the people. Anyone up there is not going to be as civilized as you will like.” She pats him on the shoulder. “I wish you all the luck in the world getting them back in their cages.”

  Five

  The keys click at a furious pace as Dr. Probst tries to get a handle on the readings coming at her from the various sensors arrayed about the Substance. It’s a dizzying amount of data and is exactly why there is a team of scientists in place at each facility. She has to remind herself not to get discouraged if she can’t take it all in at once. The scientists lying behind her used to solely focus on the Substance before the Yellowstone caldera erupted and Hell came to Earth.

  “Temperature is stabilizing, but still at an impossible level,” Dr. Probst says to herself. “Way hotter than the surface of the Sun. How can that be and the integrity of the containment structure stay sound? This place should be melting deeper into the Earth’s surface, not staying cool and business as usual.”

  She laughs out loud.

  “What the fuck is business as usual around here?”

  She ignores the seismic activity readings, knowing she can plow through those quickly when she has time, since that is her field. It’s the Substance’s energy outputs that worry her the most. Not
being a nuclear engineer, or any engineer, she has a hard time making sense of the complex data the system is showing her.

  Her fear is she’ll misinterpret something and the whole place will go kaboom.

  But a voice in her head says that isn’t the real fear. Her real fear is that the place won’t go kaboom, but will take her over, make her its bitch. VanderVoort’s warnings about the Substance are what really strike fear in her.

  There’s a moan behind her and she freezes, her fingers hovering on the keys, no more typing, no more clickety-clack.

  “Who’s awake?” she asks without turning around. “Hello?”

  “What happened?” a woman asks.

  Slowly, Dr. Probst spins in her chair and sees Dr. McDaniels trying to sit up, but the restraints Dr. Probst secured her with preventing that movement completely.

  “What the hell?” Dr. McDaniels asks, her eyes drilling holes in Dr. Probst. “What have you done?”

  “What I was advised to do,” Dr. Probst says. “Keep any of you from hurting me in case you didn’t wake up as yourselves.”

  “In case we didn’t wake up as…” Dr. McDaniels echoes. “Why wouldn’t we wake up as ourselves?”

  “Because I’ve been led to believe that the Substance may have tried to influence us all,” Dr. Probst responds. “I was unconscious for a short time. You have been out for hours. Same with the others.” She swallows hard. “Well, except for Dr. Mannering.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with Clark?” Dr. McDaniels asks then looks at the cold corpse in the corner of the control room. “Oh my god… Is he dead?”

  “Yes,” Dr. Probst says flatly. “He was dead when I came to. You’re the first to wake up.”

  “Hours?” Dr. McDaniels asks, her eyes refusing to move away from Dr. Mannering’s body. “What’s happened during those hours?”

  “The monster has ripped out of the caldera,” Dr. Probst says, turning to point at her laptop. “And I have gone mad trying to monitor the Substance and understand what any of this shit means.”

  She clears her throat.

  “I don’t mean literally mad, of course. Just a little confused and frustrated.”

  “We need to do something about Clark’s body,” Dr. McDaniels says. “We can’t leave him here like that. Cut me loose and I’ll go get a gurney. We have a small morgue near the infirmary.”

  Dr. Probst flinches and looks away.

  “Cheryl? Cut me loose so I can take care of Clark,” Dr. McDaniels says. “I’m obviously not a threat to you.”

  “I don’t know that,” Dr. Probst says, focusing on her laptop. “I barely know you. I could cut those restraints and then you end up cutting me.”

  “You are mad,” Dr. McDaniels says. “I am sitting here, my hands and legs bound by zip ties, talking very rationally to you, despite the fact one of my closest friends and colleagues is only a few feet away and dead, and you still don’t trust me? You crazy bitch.”

  “Yeah, name calling won’t help you much,” Dr. Probst says. “I’ll tell you what.”

  “You’ll tell me nothing!” Dr. McDaniels shouts as she thrashes violently. “I’ll fucking kill you when I get free if you don’t cut these restraints right now!”

  Dr. Probst slowly swivels in her chair and stares blankly at Dr. McDaniels. “Really?”

  “OK, OK, I’m sorry,” Dr. McDaniels says. “I apologize for losing it. I realized as soon as the words left my mouth that they were the wrong things to say. I’m upset, I’m angry, my head hurts like nothing I have ever felt before, and I’m beyond sad. Please. Cheryl. Dr. Probst. Please.”

  “Are you thirsty?” Dr. Probst asks, getting up and going to a stack of water bottles off to the side of the room. “We don’t have a ton, so we’ll need to ration until VanderVoort lets us out, but you’re probably dehydrated right now. I can give you some water.”

  “Oh, can you?” Dr. McDaniels sneers. “What a brave soul you are. Giving the bound woman some water. Did you do your post-doctorate with Mother Fucking Theresa?”

  “Okay, fuck off,” Dr. Probst says. “Do you want water or not?”

  Dr. McDaniels glares then sighs through her nose loudly. “Yes. I would love some water.”

  “Promise to be nice?” Dr. Probst asks, moving slowly towards the woman.

  “No,” Dr. McDaniels says. “But I won’t give you any reason to trust me less.”

  “Fair enough,” Dr. Probst replies. She uncaps the bottle and walks over. Then sees her dilemma. “Uh… Huh.”

  “Either find a straw or put the bottle to my lips,” Dr. McDaniels says. “I doubt there are any straws.”

  “No, there aren’t,” Dr. Probst says. “I’ve done an inventory. Hold still.”

  Dr. McDaniels opens her mouth and Dr. Probst begins to pour slowly. Just as the water reaches Dr. McDaniels’ lips, Dr. Probst finds herself falling through the air, her legs swept out from under her. She screams as Dr. McDaniels springs onto her, knocking the wind from her lungs.

  “You think you can tie me up, tie all my friends up, kill one of them, and I’ll just let you give me a drink like a lap dog?” Dr. McDaniels snarls as she slams her forehead into Dr. Probst’s nose. Blood squirts everywhere and Dr. McDaniels laughs. “Fat chance, bitch! I should have shot you when you were up in the warehouse! Would have saved us all a lot of trouble!”

  Dr. Probst chokes on the blood that fills the back of her throat. Then she begins to choke from the weight of Dr. McDaniels’ shoulder pressing against her windpipe. Animal instinct kicks in and she grabs Dr. McDaniels’ ears, pulling down and out as hard as possible. The woman screams, rolls off, and keeps rolling until she collides with Dr. Burkhorst’s unconscious body.

  “CUNT!” Dr. McDaniels roars. “You tore off my ear!”

  Dr. Probst scrambles to her feet and basically climbs up onto her workstation, her ass pressing against buttons and levers that work who knows what. She sees blood pouring from behind Dr. McDaniels’ left ear, but the ear is still attached. Dr. Probst pulls the .22 revolver from her pocket and aims it at Dr. McDaniels with shaky hands.

  “You stay away from me!” she shouts. “Stay right where you are and I won’t shoot! Move even an inch towards me and I’ll put a bullet in your fucking eye!”

  Dr. McDaniels glares for a very long time then her face slackens and she starts to laugh.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Dr. McDaniels says. “When Ted and Burkhorst wake up there will be too many of us to handle. Even tied up we can take you. You think we can’t? Just you wait and see! JUST YOU WAIT AND SEE!”

  “I’d rather not,” Dr. Probst replies as her finger twitches by the trigger. “Calm down so the gun can go away. Please. Just calm down.”

  “No,” Dr. McDaniels says. “No. I will not. You want me calm? Shoot me.”

  Dr. McDaniels waits and laughs again.

  “Didn’t think so, bitch,” she says. “You’re a gutless pussy. An empty-headed moron that got a degree and thinks she can handle the real—”

  The gunshot is deafening in the enclosed space. Dr. Probst screams and the .22 drops from her hands, clattering to the floor, sliding under the workstations. Dr. McDaniels lets out a huff and looks down.

  “You gut shot me,” she mumbles. “You shot me in the belly. Jesus. That’s the worst thing you could have done. Jesus.”

  Dr. McDaniels relaxes back against the wall, her eyes watching Dr. Probst carefully.

  “I guess I can’t jump you now,” Dr. McDaniels says as she coughs up a pink spray. “You put me in my place. Didn’t get rid of me, though. I’ll be here a while, jabbering in your ear. Takes a long time to die from a belly wound. A long time. And I plan on reminding you of that every second of the way.”

  Dr. Probst bursts into tears and slides off the work station into her chair as Dr. McDaniels continues to taunt and cajole her. She wipes at her eyes and stares at her laptop, the words and numbers fuzzy lines before her.

  Then she focuses harder and gets back to work, doing everything
in her power to ignore the dying woman behind her.

  ***

  A spray of mud and a few rocks fly up out of the hole before Terrie hears Krissy calling to her from below.

  “What was that?” Terrie ask as she slowly scoots across the mud and rocks to the edge of the hole and peers down, very aware of her precarious position and the instability of the mud. “Did you find it?”

  “Doesn’t it look like I found it?” Krissy snaps, her hands resting on the metal of the bunker hatch while her mud caked face turns up to Terrie. “Hours of digging and you were right. The hatch was right here.” She pounds on the wheel in the middle. “Still locked.”

  “Knock,” Terrie says.

  “I have,” Krissy says, wiping at her face then wincing as she grinds dirt into her flayed flesh.

  Biscuit begins to whine and Terrie glances over at him. He lies right next to Belle’s corpse, refusing to leave the dead woman’s side for some reason. He is looking off towards the water and whines again. Terrie follows his gaze, but doesn’t see anything.

  “What’s he bitching about?” Krissy asks, turning and slumping against the hatch. “He find Linda’s or Roy’s body?”

  “No,” Terrie says. “But it doesn’t matter. Knock again. Call to Tony. Maybe your voice will bring him around.”

  “You really plan on whoring me out, don’t you?” Krissy growls. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through? This is so not cool, old woman. So not cool.”

  Terrie lets the old woman remark slide, knowing exactly what Krissy has been through. The flayed face was the least of her traumas. Deep inside, her soul was wounded in ways no woman should be wounded. No woman.

  Biscuit whines some more and Terrie decides maybe ignoring the hybrid is not a good idea. She carefully pushes away from the hole and scoots over to Biscuit.

  “Hey!” Krissy yells. “Where are you going?”

  “Quiet,” Terrie orders, using that mother/grandmother don’t fuck with me voice that always gets right to the primal in all.

  Biscuit stands and takes a few steps forward, huffs, then takes a few steps back and barks quietly. His hackle raise and he starts to growl low, another sound that reaches the primal in all, taking anyone that hears it back to the times of the campfire and the cave.