The Last Mile Trilogy

by Jacqueline Druga

  Tate spoke, “Is that why they haven’t come over here? Someone is always smoking?”

  Sam nodded.

  Jeb shook his head, confused. “That still does not explain why they took Eva and not Robi, Michael, or Gene. Is it her size?”

  “Big the Loomis are,” Mas said. “Matter not of size. Poison it is alcohol to them.”

  Sam clarified. “Alcohol and THC are poison to them. Because their senses are fine tuned, they picked up the scent of alcohol in the blood even if it had been a while since consumption.”

  “So as long as we smoke, drink, and be merry,” Tate said, “they’ll stay away.”

  “Smoke, yes,” Sam said. “They still may strike if there is no tobacco. But they will not take those who have consumed alcohol.”

  “Why?” Jeb asked. “Does it burn them to the touch?”

  Sam nodded. “Very much.”

  “So when he picked up Gene, he got burned?” Jeb asked.

  Sam shook his head. “To touch alcohol, yes. To touch blood with alcohol, yes. To touch skin … no.”

  Jeb took a step forward and dramatically tossed up his hands. “Then why Eva?” He looked at Sam. “Why did he want her? Is she still alive maybe?”

  Mas shook his head. “Doubtful it is.”

  “Then why take her?” Again Jeb asked, and he noticed both Mas and Sam lowering their heads. “Gentlemen?”

  Sam explained. “To them you are alien wildlife. Animal life. There is no rush to find Eva. If she was bleeding, she has left this earth in spirit. There is only one reason I know of that they would take a human. And because of that, you may not find traces of her at all.”

  Tate groaned out. “Oh, God. No.”

  “What?” Jeb tossed up his hands. “What am I missing?”

  Tate exhaled. “Food. They took her as food.”

  Neither Mas nor Sam said anything.

  Jeb’s eyes widened. He looked at Mas then to Sam. “Food?”

  Sam nodded.

  With an angry, blasting, ‘Fuck!” Jeb spun and slammed his hand into the car. The force of his hit didn’t just dent the car, it sent the vehicle flying up two feet in the air and sliding a good twenty feet until it tilted over and rolled to a stop.

  Everyone stopped.

  Slowly, Jeb turned to Tate. “Did … did I just do that?”

  Tate replied simply, “Yes.”

  “Holy shit.” Jeb looked at his fist.

  “Is your hand okay?” Tate asked.

  “Yeah. My adrenaline must have really been pumping.”

  “Dude, if it was, you turned into the hulk.”

  “Oh my God.” Jeb stared at his hand.

  “The Atranda,” Sam said. “It happens when a being is struck and survives. The DNA of the Atranda mixes with the being’s DNA. Depending on the severity of the injury, some may get affected and some may not, and it affects people in different ways - strength of Atranda, scent, agility, temperament.” Sam shrugged. “It is obvious, Jeb, since you were at death’s door, that you inherited the strength.”

  “What about Bishop when he got scratched?” Tate asked. “And Manny?”

  Mas answered. “Unknown until known. Know now of Jeb’s through discovery.”

  “Do I need to be mad or is it with me all the time?” Jeb asked as he walked to another car.

  “All the time,” Sam answered.

  Jeb touched the car, and then slowly crouched down and gripped the bottom edge. After a pause, he hoisted car with ease. “Shit.” He dropped it.

  “Dude.” Tate rushed to him “This is amazing.”

  “And helpful,” Sam stated. “Your DNA has mixed, which means the Atranda cannot sense you as the enemy. Jeb can move amongst them.”

  “What about the Loomis?” Tate asked.

  “They don’t sense Atranda, they see them,” Sam replied.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Jeb said. “We got our info. Let’s go find Eva or the son of bitch who took her.” He motioned his head toward Tate.

  “Wait,” Sam called out. “Not the thing to do. It’s wise, Jeb, to wait until all are healed and move out. This environment is the perfect temperature for Loomis. These settlers are setting up a base here. No other reason. We should move to the desert. Even with Atranda there, we stand a chance, especially if you can walk among them.”

  “You said this isn’t an invasion, that this is a first team, a scientific team,” Jeb argued. “So there aren’t that many. Obviously there aren’t or they would have gotten us. We’re right across the street. So my guess is there are only a few around here, and there are too many of us so they waited. We have a blood trail. We’re finding them and we’re taking them out.” He looked at Tate. “Right little brother?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Mas shook his head. “Strong they are.”

  Tate pointed to Jeb. “Strong so is he.”

  “Scared,” Jeb added. “Of them we are not.”

  “Ah, ah, ah.” Mas mocked. “Funny think you are. How, defeat will you. Even four.”

  “Very easily,” Jeb said. “We have those dart guns. You said alcohol is poison to them. This is gonna be easy. We make our own dart cartridges filled with Jack Daniels.”

  Sam smiled. “That is brilliant. I’ll help you prepare.”

  “Thank you,” Jeb replied.

  “One thing.” Sam held up a finger. “I have a favor. If you find them, find their vessel and their camp. We need everything they have, mainly their power source.”

  Tate asked. “Is it that good?”

  “We may need the vessel one day, but the power source is invaluable because it is way beyond anything that is here. If we find one of their power courses, we can power a city for twenty years,” Sam said. “The Loomis also leave a distinctive trail of scent and bile.”

  Tate’s mouth opened in disgust. “That’s foul.”

  “Can you recognize these trails?” Jeb asked.

  Sam nodded.

  “Good. We’ll arm you as well.” Jeb patted him on the back, sending the smaller man forward. “Sorry, I have to watch that strength.”

  Sam was reluctant to go, but in Jeb’s mind there was no choice. He needed Sam. Not only because Sam knew about the Loomis and what they were searching for, but because he understood Sam a little better than he understood Mas.

  To Jeb it was a lot more than just finding the Loomis and taking them down. It was getting those desperately needed answers for a father who would soon wake from his injuries and want to know what happened to the only child he had.

  Chapter Thirteen – Back Track

  July 22nd - Los Angeles, CA

  It didn’t really hit Jeb until his second time out. Not only had they lost one of their own, they had lost a valuable commodity … a young girl.

  He wished he remembered her and knew her better.

  Tate did. Tate told his brother he tried not to think about it and held hopes that maybe the feisty little teenage girl was giving her captors a hard time.

  But Jeb felt different. He just wanted to find something, anything, to take back to Parker. For him, Jeb’s heart broke. Eva was all he had. His sons had passed, his wife had died … he only had Eva. Now she was gone, and to think of what the Loomis would and possibly had done to her was to Jeb nothing but a desecration.

  They didn’t go into the mall; they walked around to the exit with the blood trail. It was small and dotted, but it was a trail nonetheless. Tate led the pack, walking slow, following the trail and keeping an eye out.

  Sam bent closer to examine it. “It is the blood of the Loomis.”

  Bishop breathed out heavily. “The Loomis. Tell me again why I am here?”

  Jeb answered, “Aside from being one of the best shots, we are hoping that we can figure out if you got hit with the fusion.”

  “I’m sorry ... the fusion?” Bishop asked.

  Jeb nodded. “You were scratched by the Atranda. Sam and Mas told me that it is possible if there was Atranda blood or any other fluids, that
it could mix with our DNA. It mixed with mine.”

  “Are you serious?” Bishop asked. “Dude, what does that mean?”

  “It means,” Tate said, “that Jeb can lift a compact car now and toss it like a baseball.”

  “Holy shit. Can I?” Bishop asked. “I don’t think I can.” He paused in walking. They were on a street and he walked to the nearest car. “Is this a joke? Let me know before I make myself look like a fool.”

  Jeb moved towards the car, crouched down, and lifted the car in a tilt from the ground. “No. Not a joke.”

  “Oh my God.” Bishop rubbed his hands together, crouched like Jeb, and tried to life the car. Nothing. He tried again. The car didn’t budge. “I guess I didn’t get enough.”

  “We still do not know,” Sam said. “We cannot rule it out, because you could have been affected in another way. We just may have to figure it out through the process of elimination. We will compile a list of Atranda traits, and if you have none, then you weren’t affected.”

  “The Blood stops here,” Tate announced. He was a good ten feet ahead of the others. “He either stopped bleeding or he disappeared.”

  Sam hurried to where Tate stood and peered up. “He did not stop bleeding, he was lifted. See the dark marks on the building? The craft had to descend down for him. The heat of the craft scorched the buildings. He was injured and carrying Eva, and he called for help.”

  “How did we not hear the craft?” Tate asked.

  “Technology is tighter,” Sam replied. “This tells me their camp is at a distance. Too far for the Loomis to walk injured.”

  Jeb questioned, “What were they doing over this way then?”

  “They saw us from above maybe. Or they were setting up surveillance,” Sam answered. “The only way to know is to find their camp. Find it and see what they have and what they are doing.”

  “I’m curious as to why LA,” Tate said.

  “Easy,” Bishop replied. “Bet me it’s the ocean. They want something from the ocean. Plus, it’s big and not really hot. If this is a scientific team with a base, where would they go?”

  “They would not want to be seen from the ground,” Sam said. “They’d need room for the main craft and a travel vessel. How many there are, I won’t know until I get to the camp. They’d look for a cavern. A place to rest the craft and could easily fly out of.”

  “A cavern in LA?” Jeb shook his head. “There’s no cavern in LA. There are hills and valleys.”

  Bishop snapped his finger. “A stadium.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Jeb nodded. “That makes perfect sense.”

  Sam pulled out a map from his back pocket. “The stadium is here. We are all the way here.”

  Tate’s eyes lifted to meet his brothers. “The lights last night. Bet me they just got here.”

  “Which means,” Sam said, “this is the initial party. Four or six. More will arrive in another week or two to join them.”

  Jeb smiled “Not if we get them first.” He looked at his dart gun. “Six of these things. We got this.”

  <><><><>

  An overwhelming smell of pine filled the air and blasted them when they stepped from the car a few blocks shy of the stadium.

  “Everything about the Loomis smells like pine,” Sam explained. “It is their scent, just as we have ours from living here. It will emanate from their belongings, but not from the Loomis themselves.”

  “So they are close?” Jeb asked. “They’re near here?”

  “I would say the guess of the stadium is accurate,” Sam replied.

  Keeping a low profile and staying hidden, they spotted the first Loomis just outside the south gate entrance to the stadium. He was in clothing and carried something over his shoulder. It was too big to be Eva, but it did look like another person.

  Whispering, Tate said, “There have to be more survivors around here.”

  “Picking us off as if we’re their own personal grocery store.” Jeb shook his head. “How we gonna find the other survivors? This city is big.”

  Sam answered, “We can over take their camp, and get their small craft; I should be able to fly it over to see what we spot.”

  “Can you fly their big craft?” Jeb asked.

  “That I don’t know.”

  Bishop pulled out his alcohol-filled tranquilizer darts. “We just need to get close enough. If there’s only a few and alcohol is like poison to them, this will be easy.”

  “After it takes effect,” Sam said. “It will take about a minute to kill them. A minute is long enough for them to shoot.”

  Jeb rubbed his hand over his face. “We can stand here and guess all we want as to what we will do and what will happen. But we got to get in there and see for ourselves what we are dealing with. I say stay here, keep low, watch, and after we see no movement for an hour, we go in. Agreed?” He looked about the faces of Tate, Bishop, and Sam, and got their agreement.

  They took their positions and waited.

  <><><><>

  Just under an hour later, they moved in toward the stadium. They stayed close to each other, moving in and out of cars to keep protected. The first two gates they tried were locked, and the obvious choice was the one through which they saw the Loomis enter. But Tate brought up that they didn’t know what they were walking into.

  The Loomis could have set up camp right inside the gate, or that entrance could be booby trapped, guarded, anything.

  They tried another gate.

  The plan was simple, get in, take out the Loomis, find Eva, then Jeb and Bishop would head back. Tate would stay with Sam to figure out what all the Loomis brought and wait for Mas.

  That was the plan.

  “This is going in totally blind,” Bishop said, following Tate and Jeb around the building. “We have no idea what we’re walking into or where in the stadium they’ll be.”

  “Mid-level seating. That’s where we go in,” Jeb replied. “And you’re right. But what choice do we have?”

  “Front gate?” Bishop said. “If we’re gonna break in anywhere, why not there? At least we can gauge where we are. Most front gates in a stadium are all the same.”

  “Yeah, open,” Jeb said. He stopped at a side double door. The sign above read authorized personnel only. “Bet this is a back hall for deliveries or something.”

  Tate reached forward and tried the door. “Locked like every other one.” He looked at Jeb. “What are we doing? Rip the door off the hinges. I’m forgetting you Hulk out.”

  “Think I can?” Jeb asked.

  “Why not?” Tate shrugged.

  Jeb grabbed the handle.

  “Wait,” Bishop called. “Stop. We need a plan.”

  “We have a plan,” Jeb said. “Go in there. Take out the Loomis, find Eva, and check out their stuff.”

  “Just storm in?” Bishop asked. “You’re nuts. You of all people know you can’t just storm in there. How do we know they weren’t watching our dumb asses try every door? How do we know they aren’t right here waiting for us?”

  Tate looked at Jeb. “He’s got a point. We don’t even know where in the building this door leads.”

  “Or what’s ahead,” Bishop added. “We don’t even know where in the building they are. For all we know they can be in the lobby hitting the concession stands.”

  Jeb turned to Sam. “You know them, what do you think?”

  “They are not here for a leisure vacation,” Sam stated. “They are working and do what they need to do, so they will be at a camp or a lab set up somewhere in the building. The only soldier equivalent that will be here is the pilot. I agree with Bishop. We cannot just storm there.”

  “All right. Step back,” Jeb instructed. “Stand to the side. I’ll take down this door. I’m gonna guess because this isn’t a public entrance that it’s for employees or deliveries. I’ll go in and see where this leads. Once I see it’s clear, we move to the next leg and repeat. Is that good?”

  Bishop, Tate and Sam nodded.

  “Back up.”
Jeb waited until they were to the sides of the double doors. His heart raced, because he didn’t know what was on the other side, and he wasn’t even sure he could break the door from the secured hinges. Hand gripping tightly to the locked handle, Jeb pulled as hard as he could.

  Tate laughed.

  Jeb snarled. The door handle was in his hand and the door was still in place. Murmuring a ‘fuck’, Jeb dropped the handle and noticed the door which had inched out. Smiling and with a nod to his brother, he whispered, “Weapons ready.” Then he slid his fingers into the crease of the door and opened it.

  As soon as he opened the door, Jeb nearly jumped from his skin when he was surprised by a Loomis. The huge beast stood in the doorway, towering over Jeb. It exhaled outward with a groaning growl and extended its weapon.

  Jeb did the only thing he could think of. He struck out at the Loomis with all of his might, sailing his fist into the gut of the beast. It nearly folded in half, lifted a foot from the ground, flew back and dropped to its rear, sliding with force down the long hall.

  Quickly, before the Loomis could react, move, or register what had happened, Jeb swung his dart gun forward, aimed, and fired.

  The dart landed in the neck of the Loomis. It reached up for the dart, then tried to stand on its feet as Jeb watched.

  The Loomis managed to stand, growled, and raged toward Jeb, scooping up its weapon in the run.

  Jeb didn’t move.

  Five feet. Just five feet from Jeb, the Loomis stopped cold and dropped to the ground.

  “Stay back,” Jeb ordered in a whisper to the others and walked to the Loomis. He looked down at the huge beast, grabbed its weapon, then reached for the scruff of its shirt, and dragged it to the door, hoisting it outside.

  He stepped out after it. “Anything on it we need right now?” Jeb asked.

  “Holy shit is it huge,” Bishop commented, looking down the Loomis lying on the ground.

  Tate nudged it with his foot. “Is it dead?”

  Sam crouched down. “Very much so. Alcohol is poison.” He ripped an oval blue pendant object from the shirt of the Loomis, stood, and put it on Jeb.