Those claws look sharp.
She shivered, watching as the claws flexed slowly back and forth. Her eyes were drawn to the fangs sticking down from each side of its upper lip. A thick, green foam was now dripping off the fangs as if the rat had started to drool.
How could they not want to destroy it?
The narrow slit of an eye opened wider. The eye watching her was not the dull window on an animal’s brain she had expected, but instead, shone with intelligence. It was a knowing eye filled with hate and anger and something she didn’t understand, couldn’t understand.
“It looks at me as if it knows me,” she managed through a tight throat.
“Of course, it knows you.”
She glanced at the old man in surprise.
“Don’t you remember? You two have met. Oh sure, it looks like just a large rat, but it is more advanced, mentally, than that. It is definitely macro-cephalic.”
She raised a questioning eyebrow.
“Its head is larger proportionately than it should be for a rat, even of that size. Its head and its brain are both larger, and the brain is well developed.”
“Does it have human-like intelligence?” she asked in alarm.
“We don’t think so. We don’t actually know. But, it is certainly at least as smart as a dolphin, or maybe a chimpanzee.”
She studied the rat with newfound respect, and more than a little horror. It had moved up onto its curled legs and was now glaring at her with both eyes.
“Has it ever left this stone room since . . . since that day I was first down here?”
“No, it has been here ever since.”
“You know that for sure?” She looked hard into his eyes.
“See the video surveillance system?” He pointed to small cameras in each corner of the stone room. “That system has been operating twenty-four-seven since the last time you were here. Several pairs of eyes are watching this creature constantly, every second of every day. I assure you. It has never left this room at any time—not even for a second.”
“Then why have the children of Trona started disappearing again?”
“That is a good question. Like you, I’m here to answer it. Unfortunately, we do not yet have the answer, except to say it is not the doings of this ugly creature. We can account for its whereabouts at all times.”
She opened her mouth to ask another question, when the rat suddenly burst forward and jumped straight at her, throwing itself against the Plexiglas. Its claws and teeth scraped against the hard plastic-like surface, making a loud screeching noise. Rising up on its haunches, it clawed at the barrier, trying to dig its way through to the startled FBI agent. Greenish spittle flew from its mouth, staining the Plexiglas.
In spite of herself, Agent Allen screamed and stumbled backward, landing on her rear on the stone steps behind her. With relief, she saw the chain was still affixed to the monster’s hind leg, preventing it from throwing its full weight against the Plexiglas. The shield was holding.
The white-haired man did not startle or move, except to bring a hand up to rub his chin. He raised one eyebrow. “Oh ho, it seems to be feeling better, much better. It may be stronger than we think.”
Agent Allen got up, dusting herself off, and turned on the man angrily. “I don’t care what you say. There is no sane reason for keeping that thing alive!”
With his hand, he indicated they should go back upstairs. Agent Allen was glad to comply. Her heart still racing, she worked to slow her breathing. The rat was splayed against the Plexiglas, its blood-shot eyes trained on her, its jaw open in a snarl, dripping green ooze. She turned away.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Before they could start up the stairs, the lights above their heads dimmed, and then went out completely. Agent Allen swallowed her panic. Surely the Plexiglas would hold in the dark—the lack of light shouldn’t make a difference. The darkness at her back was filled with menace.
“What just happened!” she called out, sounding more startled than she intended.
The man answered calmly, “Don’t worry—it can’t get to us. It just suppressed the lights.”
“It can turn off the lights?” Agent Allen was incredulous, not just at the rat’s abilities, but at the academic conversation she was having just inches away from a snarling monster rat.
“No, it can’t turn off the power, but it can suppress the actual light so that it doesn’t shine. It finds most common wavelengths of light to be painful. It has developed a defense mechanism that allows it to block or contain the radiation of photons.”
“How does it do that?”
“We don’t know yet, but we think it has internal organs that can generate and direct a powerful charge of dark energy through its nervous system at the quantum level. Think of an electric eel generating and directing a killer electrical charge at its prey.”
This explanation did not calm her fears. Though she couldn’t see a thing, she could hear both the man and the rat breathing in the profound darkness. Her own breathing was laboring under the stifling stench.
She heard the man’s feet twist on the stone floor. His voice came at her more directly. “Nothing personal. It just prefers the dark. Take my hand and let’s go back upstairs. There will be light there.”
Agent Allen’s fear turned to anger. She did not like being at a disadvantage to anyone, especially this man. “You go ahead. I can find my way. Thank you.”
She heard his footsteps start up the stairs. Guiding herself with a hand on the wall, she carefully followed. Behind her, she could hear the harsh breathing of the rat.
Once they were back on the main floor, they went into the dining room and sat around a corner of the large dinner table. He asked her, “What else do you want to know?”
She was still upset at being startled by the rat and plunged into darkness. She couldn’t help but feel he had intentionally failed to warn her. “I want to know everything you know.”
He smiled. “Well, we both have law degrees from Yale. We already have that much knowledge in common.”
She blinked, surprised he knew she had attended Yale.
“But, if you want to know everything I know, you will need a master’s degree in chemistry and a PhD in chemical engineering.” He continued to smile to her annoyance.
“I don’t mean like that, not everything about everything you know. I want to know what’s going on here in Trona. What happens to the kids who disappear? Who or what is taking them? And why? How did all this start in the first place?”
The man leaned back in his chair and gazed up at the high ceiling, pursing his fingers together in front of himself. Agent Allen realized she didn’t even know his name.
He began. “How long the ‘phenomenon’ that goes on in the Searles Valley basin has been happening, we don’t know. Certainly for hundreds of years, maybe thousands of years. The government became aware of this place around the start of World War II. The plant ownership alerted the government to the fact that certain very rare elements could be obtained here.”
“What rare elements?”
The man hesitated. “Plutonium.”
“Plutonium? Plutonium isn’t found in nature, it’s manufactured.”
“Actually, trace amounts of some isotopes are found in nature, but not enough to be useful. This place is different. There is no plutonium found in Searles Valley, but this place does provide access to plutonium and many other rare elements through the passageway.”
Agent Allen shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Frankly, neither do we. But this mansion, along with the chemical plant next door, were built specifically as a means of access to important elements that are available in other dimensions.”
“They are not actually in this valley—not on this planet?”
He smiled. “Correct.”
“It sounds to me like rare elements are taking priority over innocent lives.”
His smile vanished. “You are being intentionally ha
rsh.”
“No, I don’t think so. The mansion and chemical plant are still here and children are still disappearing. How many will have to die before the government admits it has lost control here? What makes that terrible rat and this old mansion so important?”
“You ask those questions as if they had simple answers. I’ll give you a little history. When the government became involved during the second world war, the handling of the whole thing was given to the OSS.”
“Military intelligence?”
“Correct. For obvious reasons, a great effort was made to keep all this secret. In fact, this is still a national security concern. That is why the NSA is now in charge. If you didn’t have sufficient security clearance, I couldn’t be telling you about it. Of course, what I do tell you is for your ears only.”
Agent Allen nodded.
“Anyway, the mining of plutonium, while possible, proved to be impractical and was abandoned after the war. At that time, no one knew what to do with this place. When the OSS was done away with and the CIA created to replace it, it didn’t fit under the CIA mandate. The military no longer wanted to be in charge of it, and since it was so secret, very few people knew about it. So it just got filed away and forgotten.”
Agent Allen’s mouth dropped open. “Forgotten?”
The white-haired man sighed. “I’m afraid so. Local plant management was tasked with securing the mansion. It was supposed to be overseen by the government, but there was no agency that was capable or had the correct mandate to oversee it. When those government agents who had been involved at the beginning either retired or died, well, it was just forgotten.
“When you came out here to investigate the disappearing children, the project came back onto the government’s radar, so to speak. We were assigned to come out to see if the mansion was somehow involved. As it turns out, the mansion was involved, in more ways than we could have imagined. We have been trying to catch up ever since.”
Agent Allen’s eyes narrowed. “So, for all those years, they left a giant, green rat from another dimension to feed off the town’s children while it supposedly protected this mansion?”
“Not exactly. The rat was to prevent anything from our side going to the other side, and especially, anything from the other side coming here. The rat is from over there, somewhere, and seems well suited to guarding the passage. Except for our young friends, no one and nothing has ever come close to killing it. Whatever happens, it keeps coming back, protecting the passage. In many ways, it acts possessive of, even territorial about the passage. It is the perfect guardian.”
Agent Allen was still angry and very confused. “Where is this other side you keep talking about? What is ‘over there?’ Do you even know what you are talking about?”
The man sat back and studied Agent Allen. He rubbed his chin as if reviewing what he had been or should be saying. After a moment, he suddenly changed the subject. “Look, before I tell you more, I want you to know there is a quid pro quo here. We need your help, too.”
So, that is why he is so forthcoming. “What is it you want?”
“Our young friends, Miss Smith and Mr. Jones, are on their way here. In fact, they may already be in the valley. They evidently thought they could avoid our detection by coming in from the north, through Death Valley. They were wrong, of course. We believe they will try to contact you once they get here.
“If I have to deal with them, I will throw them in the slammer and throw away the key, which is what I told them I would do. If you will see to them, and get them out of here before they get into trouble, I’ll pretend they never came back. I think that would be best for everyone.”
Truthfully, Agent Allen had been wishing she had Camm’s help during this most recent investigation. She had been missing Camm and didn’t need additional incentive to help keep her out of trouble. But that was no business of the NSA.
“Okay, let’s be sure we are clear. If I keep Camm and Cal out of trouble, you will continue telling me everything you know about what’s going on here?”
The man nodded. “If you get them out of the valley, without going to jail, I will give you as clear a picture as I can. And by the way, they have two friends from college with them—a young woman and young man. Neither of them is from this part of the country or knows anything about the affairs here. Things will get ugly if I have to pick them all up.”
At that moment both their phones buzzed. As they looked at their phones, the man said, “You are now receiving a text from Miss Smith. Please go find her and get her and her friends out of here as quickly as you can.”
Agent Allen was indeed receiving a text from Camm and was irritated the man knew it. But she didn’t want any harm to come to her young protégée. She stated flatly, “I’ll take care of it. You just keep your part of the deal.”
It settled back down into the slimy soil with a sense of satisfaction. Not the same satisfaction that came from killing and eating, but satisfaction nonetheless. It knew it could not be held forever. They didn’t know everything. They didn’t know the mansion itself, in time, would release it from its prison.
IX
Camm checked the time on her cell phone, and then gazed up at the sun as if to verify her phone’s accuracy. Patience was not one of her virtues. Only minutes had passed since Agent Allen had texted she would meet them at Valley Wells, but Camm was still fidgety. While she did not know what they would do once they conferred with Agent Allen, Camm felt driven to start doing something, anything, before another child could disappear.
Besides, she was eager to see Agent Allen again.
Situated only a few miles north of town, Valley Wells was the now defunct community swimming pool. The whole complex was surrounded by a large fence strung with barbwire along the top. The fence was in turn surrounded by Trona’s ever-present salt cedar trees. The trees provided a perfect hiding place for Cal’s Camaro while they waited for Agent Allen to show up.
As kids, Camm and Cal had spent many hours splashing and swimming in the salty water. The plant had used Valley Wells as a large salt water reservoir and allowed the community to use it as a swimming pool. With summer temperatures regularly topping one hundred and ten degrees, and nightly lows staying above ninety-five, or even one hundred, Trona needed a community swimming pool, but as the cost of maintenance increased, the plant shut the pool down. It now sat unused.
The four college students wandered about near the car, stretching their legs and staying out of sight of passing cars. Camm kept edging out to look toward Trona Road, hoping to see Agent Allen’s red Mustang speeding toward them.
Suddenly, Martha screamed, “A snake! A snake!” Running over to Camm, she grabbed Camm’s arm and pushed up against her for protection, shivering as she looked back over her shoulder. “I hate snakes. I just hate them.”
Camm gave Martha a hug, patting her on the back in a feeble attempt to provide some comfort. Camm had grown up with desert snakes. Her family often found them in the backyard or even in the garage. She was neither afraid of snakes nor particularly interested in them.
Cal and Lenny, on the other hand, ran over to where Martha had been standing to check out the offending reptile.
“Dude,” Lenny remarked. “Look how it moves. That is so awesome.”
The snake was slithering first one way, then another, obviously wanting to get away from them as badly as Martha had wanted to get away from it.
“That’s a sidewinder,” Cal explained. “It’s a type of rattlesnake. See? It moves sideways, leaving parallel curved marks in the sand, instead of going straight ahead like a normal snake.”
“But, dude,” Lenny noted, “it doesn’t have any rattles.”
“Sidewinders don’t have rattles, but they are still rattlesnakes and very poisonous.”
Cal and Lenny followed at a safe distance, observing the snake closely.
Camm smiled. Cal was obviously enjoying this opportunity to show Lenny what he knew about desert wildlife.
&nb
sp; The boys stopped, watching as the snake slithered off to lose itself in the sagebrush.
Sauntering back toward the car, Cal continued his lecture. “Basically, there are three types of rattlesnakes around Trona. The diamondback is the one you see the most. It’s brown and has rattles. It has a pattern of diamond designs along its back.
“You just saw the sidewinder. You can always pick it out because of the funny way it moves. You can tell a snake is poisonous if it has an arrowhead-shaped head. The head is shaped that way because the sacks of poison sit at the base of the head.
“The most poisonous snake we have here, and the most poisonous of all rattlesnakes, is the Mojave Green. It has a diamond design like the diamondback, but it is green in color. The Mojave Green is the most aggressive and by far most dangerous desert snake.”
He glanced over at Lenny. “I’ve caught a lot of diamondbacks and even a few sidewinders. Not a lot scares me in the desert. Not scorpions, or coyotes, or even the occasional bobcat. But I stay away from Mojave Greens.”
Lenny’s face lit up, and he glanced over his shoulder. “Dude, can we go back and catch that sidewinder? We could scare the girls with it!”
Camm stiffened and glanced over at the two guys. As occupied as she was with reassuring Martha, Camm had still been following their conversation.
Cal shrugged. “We can catch it if you want, but Camm’s not afraid of snakes and Martha’s already had her scare. Camm used to help me catch snakes and lizards when we were kids growing up here.”
Good answer, Camm thought.
Lenny looked disappointed.
Camm wondered if Lenny wanted revenge over the whole shower ordeal in Flagstaff. You’ll have to find something scarier than a snake, she thought. I know scary, and after what I’ve seen, some desert reptile is not going to bother me.
Camm watched the two guys make their way back to the car. As Cal passed, she raised her eyebrows and shook her head with a look she hoped said there would be no catching of reptiles to scare anyone. Cal grinned and nodded.
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