Children Of Fiends - Part 1 Winter Is Passing: An Of Sudden Origin Novella

by C. Chase Harwood

  Hernandez simply nodded at the angry men.

  Dean nodded back and said, “Well, Chief, I guess you already have a sense of us.”

  “Sorry Captain. I like to get the gist of the people I have to work with before saying hello.”

  Sanders made a sour face at Dean. “Spook.”

  “Green Beret, Mr. Sanders.”

  Sanders said, “Worse.”

  Wen said, “Dumb old rivalries aside, you haven’t told me yet how I’m supposed not get infected. And I’ll ask another question. What keeps them from coming? The one’s past the Terminus I mean.”

  “That is the question, Mister Blakely,” said MacAfee. “It doesn’t require that much to cross the border. It was built to stop a half-witted Fiend, not something like...” He pointed down at the floor “…them.” He began to pace. “Why they haven’t tried to cross the border is one of the mysteries we hope to solve. Bringing Hansel and Gretel will hopefully help answer that.” He said the last part as though it was the last word and casually looked at each of them, letting his authority soak into their eyes. “I don’t know about all of you, but I’m hungry. I believe that we have some dinner coming. Doctor Schiller. Why don’t you explain to Mister Blakely how he will be protected?”

  Schiller said, “There is no protection. The people working at this facility take a certain amount of risk. It’s a small risk, but it is unavoidable. Until Captain Dean’s crew has been inoculated, you and the Colonel and his soldiers will need to take precautions.”

  Wen held up a hand saying, “I’m out. Thanks anyway.”

  “The antidote, if you will, exists, Marshall,” said MacAfee. “In the unlikely event that any of us gets infected, we have access to the same therapy that Elizaandra had.

  Wen started toward the door. “Like I said. I’m out.”

  “Sit down, Marshall.” MacAfee’s voice was like a clamp on Blakely’s neck. Wen stopped, but didn’t sit. MacAfee continued, “You have peeked inside Pandora’s box. There is no putting back what you have seen. You are on an island. You aren’t going anywhere for now.”

  “I have rights.”

  “In the name of national security, your rights have been rewritten.”

  Dinner was brought into the conference room. Details were pored over. When they were again looking at the old satellite image of the ship that held the wind turbines Sanders asked, “So we find this ship. How do we transfer the parts to the train? I mean those things are huge. Are these cranes working? Will an old tank engine be able to pull a load like that?”

  McAfee typed on a keyboard and brought up a schematic of the ship. “We won’t be unloading her. We’ll confirm that she is still operational. No reason she shouldn’t be. This is a Norwegian built vessel. A company that had an outstanding reputation for making things that last.” He then typed some more and brought up a map of North and Central America. “We will take her out and sail down the coast to Nicaragua where we will pass through the new canal. Technically the reduced sea levels of today will still work for us. The canal is deep. No locks. I passed through her in a submerged submarine back in the day.”

  “Wait a minute, wait a minute,” interrupted Dean. “You’re ‘hoping and praying’ that the Nicaragua Canal is still passable?” He pointed at the map. “That’s a hell of a long way from home if the thing is full of silt.”

  MacAfee smiled. “It’s all a long way from home once we’re on that train and across the country. Worst case, we go around the horn.”

  Dean and Sanders laughed together. “Right,” said Sanders flatly pointing at the schematic. “I don’t see that this ship is also an icebreaker.”

  Dean added, “She was likely built to handle some North Atlantic sea ice, but not break through it.”

  MacAfee said, “The scientific consensus is that the weather around Cape Horn likely precludes the chance of permanent sea ice. Nevertheless, we shall anticipate using the canal.”

  As night fell and the humans upstairs continued to plan and argue, Hansel and Gretel were lying down in their separate bedrooms. Without really being aware of it, the pucks thought together in the same way an individual human would while working out a problem on his own. As long as they were within a space of perhaps two hundred square meters, and or in sight of each other, no matter how distant, their thoughts would blend as if from a single brain. Since their time in the womb it had been so. They shared firmly embedded memories from birth to the present. They also kept the memories of others who were like them – toddler pucks - back in the time before they were captured and brought to the island. They were confusing memories, invariably contrasting with the time they had spent with the “Fresh Ones”, as their brain-addled parents had referred to uninfected humans. Before their capture, the twins had been part of a collective mind of psychopathic humans brought together by their telepathic offspring. They had rampaged across the land in an unchecked quest to kill, eat, torture and rape those who weren’t yet infected. The memories of that communal chaos still ran deep in the domesticated puck’s minds. Rather than being a source of terror, the memories of that mayhem were a source of profound pleasure. It took every ounce of their learned self control not to try to recreate that pleasure by assaulting their keepers. Now that they had been told that they would be leaving the island, that they were to go to the lands of their fellow pucks, a conflict arose within them, and they found themselves trying to solve it day and night. They never spoke out loud of their combined thoughts. They were aware that they were being recorded. Instead, like anyone who might weigh the pros and cons of a situation, they bandied their ideas back and forth like two halves of the same brain; neither of them differentiating between which brain originated which thought.

  On the one hand, I would very much like to eat Eliza’s liver. Eat it while she watched.

  But I love her and like her smell.

  She does smell so good. Like the mother when we were living in the woods.

  I want to see Schiller scream in agony. I remember this thought from the times he put the electrodes on our heads and made us take all of those tests.

  Yes that is a good thought. I can see his face contorted.

  He is such a nice man. Funny to want to see him in agony.

  It makes me feel warm inside.

  But also bad.

  Yes, bad.

  Like wanting to pluck out Tina’s eyeballs and feel them pop on our tongue as we bite.

  Yum.

  Stewart Dean. I like him.

  Yes.

  I don’t want harm to come to him.

  No.

  Why do I like him?

  He is of us. I can smell it, feel it.

  Yes, that must be so. He is of us.

  Like Eliza.

  Yes, but I don’t want to eat his liver.

  His heart.

  Yes. His heart.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Sea Trial

  They scheduled two walks on the island so that the team could experience time outside of the lab with the twins. Except for Eliza, everyone else was fitted out with an updated helmet to filter out the puck’s potential for mental invasion. Tina and Schiller stayed behind, watching from a window as the well bundled group headed out toward the large field that lead to a thick wood. To Tina’s private dismay, she couldn’t help feeling that she would see neither her young assistant nor her subjects again.

  Despite the decade long nuclear winter, the island was filled with life. Hearty evergreens and rugged shrubbery successfully stood up to the near constant overcast and cold. Small beasts and birds continued to call the trees home. The short spring was perhaps a misnomer. Cold sea breezes whipped icy moisture across exposed skin reminding everyone about the fickleness of the weather and cutting the first trip short when hail had them running back for cover. The second walk was mostly pleasant, with a novel moment: To the astonishment of even Eliza, Hansel gestured to a small bird, which instantly flew to his hand. Without hesitation, he bit off the head
, spat it out and then quickly ate the rest of the tiny creature without spilling a drop of blood. Jealous of the meal, Gretel attempted to do the same, but was stopped by Eliza with a harsh command of “No”. Gretel sulked for the rest of the outing until she let herself fall toward the back of the group where she summoned a robin straight to her mouth, not bothering with the business of removing the head. Her brother snickered while also enjoying the sensation of small bones and silky feathers being munched together.

  A day later, with his crew gathered before him, Dean stood on the rail above the Ginger Girl’s Foc’sle. Behind him the ever-present overcast was giving way to stormier looking dark clouds. Sanford stood near his captain ready to brace the man should the growing ocean swell make him lose his footing on the rail, a completely unnecessary gesture; Dean stood on legs that moved with a natural rhythm as the sea heaved the bow up and down. Lying on the deck next to them was a large plastic shipping crate with a hinged lid.

  “So here it is then,” said Dean. “Some of you may remember that during the waning days of Omega, there were reports of, and even sightings by a few of you of children among the infected with significant malformations. Some said they were mutants. You may remember that there were also tales of mind control or as least in my case, finding myself having feelings or more accurately, the sensations of another person other than myself.”

  Several of the crew grumbled. One, a tough looking woman named Alice Pike barked out, “Babies that looked like devils. That’s what they were. Could make a person cut their own throat. Saw it happen... before I got bit. My girl Sally, squad mate for five years, shooting at the thing while stabbing herself with her own knife.”

  Dean continued, “Well, as Alice says, they are most definitely real.” He nodded toward Plum Island “The doctors over there say that these things are part of a genetic mutation due to Cain’s and that the world is probably full of them.”

  Many of the sailors found themselves unconsciously glancing toward the island or the western horizon. All of them took notice of a small Navy tender that was launching from the Plum Island dock.

  “Eyes on me,” said Dean. “Now I’ve explained to you all the nature of the task we have been asked to accomplish. If we can get our hands on those wind turbines, it will make life a lot easier for all of us back home. There’s just a few hitches. The notion that there are any Fiends left roaming the countryside is just that, a notion. There’s no chance any of those brain-addled folks have survived the past ten years. Their children on the other hand…. Like I said, the folks over there think there’s lots of them.” He paused to look at the approaching tender. “Sanders and I have met two of them already.”

  The crew broke into garbled talk and grumbles, most eyes focusing back and forth on the island then the approaching boat.

  “Eyes on me!” The crew stood at attention again. Dean said, ‘Yes, they’ve got two of them over there and they’re all grown up, and yes they look like some kind of devil’s spawn, and yes they can get into your head and mess with it, and yes, you guessed it, the government wants to send them with us across the country.”

  The crew broke into frenzied shouts of fear and protest.

  “Quiet!” yelled Sanders joined by Boatswain Palmer pulling out a whistle, blowing and yelling “Settle down, settle down!”

  “Silence!” yelled Dean. The crew settled down. Dean nodded toward Sanders. “Your first mate and I have been fully exposed to these things. We stand before you completely unharmed. They have been in captivity since they were toddlers and appear to be civilized. They speak English and they have control, if you will, over their abilities. Nevertheless, precautions must be taken.” He cast a hand toward the crate. Sanders opened it and lifted out a black faceless helmet. Dean said, “These pucks, as they are being referred to, and you’ll know why when you see them, will be joining us for a short sail to see how we might all fair together. Mr. Sanders is holding one of the helmets that you will all wear while they are on board. The helmet is quite a piece of tech. It allows you to see but stops their ability to get in your head.” Sanders and Palmer started passing out the helmets.

  One of the armorers, Mr. Kneedham, spoke up. “So that’s it then, Captain? These things are coming on board without so much as a vote?”

  “You of all people know, Mr. Kneedham, that a ship is not a floating democracy. After these tests, anyone who chooses not to continue will get a first class ride via the U.S. Navy back to Nantucket. Now please put on the helmets as you receive them. It will be slightly disorienting, but you’ll be amazed at how well you can see all around you. For those of you who haven’t been able to get a new eyeglass prescription in years, you may not want to take it off. The device is motion sensitive. In addition to the photovoltaic skin, piezoelectrics charge it up while you wear it. It can also be charged at a universal charger. It will just turn on when you put it on.”

  The helmets were different than the one Dean wore the first time. These were more like a cowl and covered the top of the head from the bridge of the nose up with what looked like a black bowl on top. A double chin strap held it in place. As the crew put them on, there where various oohs and aahs of amazement. The other armorer, Mr. Kile, blurted out, “Look at that. I can zoom without even thinking about it. I could shoot anything with this thing on.”

  Dean nodded at Sanders again who yelled out, “Eyes forward!” A few crew members kept their backs turned. Sanders spotted Jamesbonds Boonmee. “I said eyes forward, Seaman Boonmee!”

  Jamesbonds giggled and said, “But I’m staring right at you sir.”

  Several other crewmen laughed at this.

  “Don’t try me Seaman or I’ll have you cleaning the bilge all week.”

  Jamesbonds and the others turned around.

  Dean continued, “These things…. These guests. Hansel and Gretel. Yes, that’s their names. They will be treated like any other guest onboard. A scientist, an Army colonel, three Army special ops, and a U.S. Marshall, who are part of the mission, will also join us. Colonel MacAfee, Marshall Blakely and the soldiers are susceptible to Cain’s and therefore will be taking the proper precautions. The scientist, Ms. Sherr, who is the puck handler of sorts, is, like us, a carrier. As might be expected, the pucks are also carriers. And there is some good news on that front, which I will share with you after today’s sail.”

  The Navy tender came aside the starboard beam and a sailor wearing a full MOPP kit took hold of an offered line where he tied up next to a gangway that led down from the Ginger Girl’s deck.

  Dean called out again to his distracted crew. “You will note that Mr. Sanders and I are not wearing helmets. The pucks are used to us and know to refrain from anything but spoken communication. If all goes well, we will only have to wear these helmets on an as-needed basis. Now, you’re going to be shocked. Gretel and Hansel are sensitive. Behave like the disciplined crew that you are. Once our guests are aboard, we will raise sail and hoist anchor for a short run around the island. Mr. Sanders, the crew is yours.” Dean turned to greet his guests.

  Sanders called out to the crew, “Face starboard and remain at attention.”

  MacAfee and Hernandez came up the gangway first followed by Wen. All of them wore masks to protect them from infection. Eliza came next, gently coaxing her protégés to join her. Gretel gently stepped aboard wearing a customized snowsuit with her brother wearing an identical outfit right behind. The pucks looked at their surroundings like a pair of giant praying mantises who have suddenly found themselves inside a capture jar. The crew could be heard to gasp and murmur, but they all kept their cool.

  “Welcome aboard the Ginger Girl,” said Dean.

  “Looks like we might see some weather, Captain,” said MacAfee.

  Dean glanced at the distant squall. “A bit, but it will only enhance the test.”

  “Of course.”

  “If you will all follow me to the stern, we’ll make way.”

  Dean chose to �
��beat to weather”, toward the squall, and then leave it to their backs as they rounded the eastern part of the island to make the long run along its south side, thereby keeping them in the lee of the storm on the western side. This would leave a beat into any heavy weather as they tacked eastward to get back to their anchorage on the north side.

  The breeze began to come up and the pucks were enthralled as the gaff-rigged sails were raised three quarters high and reefed for the impending wind. Only the time-testedness of the crew kept the men and women from tripping over each other as they stole glances at the strange looking decedents of man; the new headgear being perfect for understandable voyeurism. As the anchor came up and the heavy ship got underway, the heaving bow smoothed out as it cut through the growing swell. Hansel and Gretel let out yips of excitement as the sails began to fill out and the vessel slowly healed to port. For Dean, Sanders, Wen, MacAfee and Hernandez, who were experimenting without the helmets, the puck’s exhilaration bled through into their consciousness filling them with the thrill of the ship’s movement. Dean looked to Eliza and exclaimed, “This is intense - what I’m getting from them. I can’t say I’ll be able to concentrate on the job if it stays like this.”

  With futility, Wen tried to yawn the sensation away.

  Eliza, her high boned cheeks flushed from the cold damp air said, “Bear with it. You’ll learn to filter it out.”

  As the Ginger Girl and the squall got closer together, snow flurries drove in with sharp little stings of ice and, like sand on a windy road, the puck’s emotions shifted from elation to fear, to wonder and delight. Though grown to adulthood, they remained mostly curious children. Wen was surprised to feel his tongue grow cold as Hansel opened his mouth to catch the falling flakes.