Bobby stepped closer to the Lamotelokhai and the open hatch. “You mean trying to fix this will kill you?”
“I am not alive, Bobby.”
“To me you are! Can we use the backup data packets again if we need to?”
“I removed those data packets from each of you to reconstruct my stored data and consciousness. They are no longer within you.”
Without saying another word, the Lamotelokhai turned its back to them, stepped through the hatch, and fell.
For a moment everyone just stared through the open hatch at the rising smoke and wavering layers of heat beyond. Bobby rushed forward and leaned out. Quentin stepped to his side and grabbed his arm—just in case he leaned out too far. By the time he looked down, the Lamotelokhai was already a tiny speck on the ground, walking across a field of weeds that had not yet burned. It was moving toward the flaming compound, but then it stopped, inspecting something on the ground. A large creature of some kind was crossing a corner of the field to the south, but it either didn’t see the Lamotelokhai or didn’t care.
“What are those things?” Ashley asked, pointing out the hatch. “They’re coming this way.”
Quentin followed her gaze. A flock of about twenty large birds was approaching. He squinted at them as they got closer. The birds had long, spoon-like bills, and for a moment he thought they were pelicans. Then he realized they were much larger than pelicans, with wings of bare skin rather than feathers. They were flying reptiles.
“Quentin?” Lindsey said.
They were approaching at full speed, and they weren’t showing any signs of veering away from the aircraft.
“You guys should get back from the door!” Ashley said as she retreated back into the cabin.
Quentin pulled Bobby’s arm, and they moved back a few steps. The creatures continued advancing at full speed, and suddenly they smashed into the aircraft’s side. One of them shot right through the open hatch, with two more following just behind it. The reptiles plowed into the shocked onlookers, hitting Bobby first and knocking him over on top of Quentin.
Suddenly, all Quentin could hear were panicked human cries and bird-like shrieks. One of the creatures clamped down on Bobby’s ankle. While fighting his way back to his feet, Quentin glimpsed inch-long teeth tearing into Bobby’s flesh. The creature flapped its wings, pushing itself back toward the hatch and dragging Bobby with it.
Quentin lunged forward and caught Bobby’s floundering hand.
Ashley let out an inhuman scream as she charged the reptile-bird and started swinging at it with her fists.
Another of the creatures slammed into the hatch, its body coming halfway inside. It grabbed Bobby’s other leg in its toothed bill and started pulling.
Bobby’s hand slipped from Quentin’s grip. Ashley took another swing, but her fist found only air. The two birds were out of the aircraft, and Quentin watched Bobby slip over the lip of the hatch and disappear.
He dove for the hatch and barely stopped himself from tumbling out. Bobby was already hundreds of feet below, falling fast. The two reptile-birds still hadn’t let go. Their wings flapped furiously, but it was a losing battle—Bobby was too heavy for them. Quentin watched in horror as their efforts forced them north over the burning compound. Suddenly the creatures seemed to realize they were about to burn up, and they let go.
Bobby fell another 1,000 feet directly into the center of the raging flames.
Quentin stared, lying on the aircraft’s floor, unable to believe what he had just seen. Ashley stood over him, screaming Bobby’s name over and over. Shouts of panic and the clatter of fighting rang through the cabin behind him. Quentin tried shaking off his shock and got to his feet.
“Lindsey!” He ran to help her.
Twenty-seven
Peter tried not to breathe or even blink. One small movement and the creature would know the truck’s overturned cab was occupied. Georgia was crouched beside him, also motionless. Yesterday they had learned that at least some of the creatures were drawn to movement when a hairless, dog-sized animal with unusually short hind legs and human-like forelimbs had seen them moving and had charged them, ramming the windshield as if it were unaware of the glass barrier. Stunned by the blow, it had teetered off, leaving them with a large crack in the glass.
The creature now gazing at them was much larger, at least as large as two adult humans. It walked on two hind legs and had diminutive arms fringed by feathers—probably a dinosaur, or some twisted variation with the genetic foundation of a dinosaur. He had been unable to discern any rhyme or reason to the creatures they had seen. Some were apparently copies of real creatures that had existed in the past, while others were outlandish chimeras with characteristics of different animals and sometimes even plants. Regardless, the creature before them was powerful enough that it could easily bash through the cracked windshield if it detected them.
The dinosaur paced back and forth several times next to the overturned cab. Then it stepped closer and leaned in toward the windshield to get a better look. It froze. Its round pupils grew slightly larger as it stared into the darkened cab. It shifted its head forward and back as if trying to make out details, perhaps trying to decide if Peter and Georgia were potential prey.
Suddenly it jabbed its snout at the windshield, leaving a smear of goo. Peter flinched, but Georgia remained perfectly still. The creature shifted its head again, and it bumped the glass a second time. Peter realized then that it wasn’t looking through the windshield at all—it was watching its own reflection. This was reassuring, but it didn’t change the fact that a small movement could give them away.
After sparring with itself for a few more seconds, the dinosaur snapped its head around, looking at something in the distance. It then took off, running swiftly on its hind legs.
Peter and Georgia exhaled. She picked up a bottle of water, took a drink, and offered it to Peter. He took two swallows. They only had one bottle left after this one, and they had no way to know how long they’d be stuck in the sweltering cab. By Peter’s estimation, they had been here for at least 27 hours—yesterday morning they had awakened in the bunkhouse trailer, and now it was about noon. Fortunately, the truck was a sleeper cab, with a small bunk area behind the seats in front, which is where they were now, partially concealed but still visible to curious creatures like the dinosaur. The sleeping area was no more than a box three feet wide with a platform that had held a mattress before they crashed. But now the cab was on its side, and since the sleeper cab was slightly cooler, they had been spending most of the time tucked into the bottom end of it on top of the folded mattress. Beneath the mattress platform they had found a plastic-wrapped case of water bottles, with only four remaining. They had no food, and Peter hadn’t eaten since his last meal in Helmich’s compound. That had been over 48 hours ago.
Georgia sighed loudly, and she crawled out of the tight space into the larger cab. She kneeled next to the passenger-side window, which was missing its glass. After checking the area for insects and other small animals that may have crawled in under the cab, she lowered her face to the weeds and soil and sucked in what little fresh air she could get. “We can’t stay in here much longer,” she said before leaning down to take another breath.
Peter crawled out behind her. She was right—they probably wouldn’t last another day. The engine had stopped when the truck had crashed, and they hadn't been able to restart it. Without air conditioning, the cab was brutally hot. After turning the ignition key, they had been able to partially open the power window on the driver side for fresh air. But then a huge black insect had flown in, forcing them to take cover under the mattress until it had found its way out. It wasn’t safe to keep the window open. Yesterday had been dangerously hot, and today was already shaping up to be worse.
Soon they would have to abandon the truck and take their chances outside.
Peter gazed out the windshield, which was cracked, smudged. The area around the truck was mostly charred and blasted beyond recogn
ition. They were lucky to have survived the bombing. The destruction of Salinas had been only the beginning. After that, someone somewhere must have decided the only way to stop the spreading of the creatures was to bomb the hell out of everything. The explosions had gone on for hours, with an intensity unlike anything Peter had ever seen. The landscape was devastated, but somehow the truck had never taken a direct hit.
The barrage of destruction had finally let up yesterday afternoon. But soon after that a low roar of countless explosions had started again, this time to the south, probably off the coast. And it hadn’t let up since. An uninterrupted wall of smoke and steam rose in the distance for as far as they could see.
“We’ll go east,” he said. “We’ll try to make our way to the compound.”
She turned and looked at him. “Where all of this started? Why?”
“Because it’s the epicenter. Ground zero. Those who want to understand what happened will go there first. At least we know people will show up there eventually. Anywhere else,” he waved to the grim terrain around them, “we have no idea.”
She nodded. “Then I am ready. I believe I'll suffocate if I remain in here one more hour.”
He looked at her. She was wet from sweat, her clothes were grimy and torn, and she had no shoes. Peter imagined he looked even worse.
He said, “For the moment, we’re alive. And we’re still human. I think we should remain here until we have absolutely no choice. Perhaps a military vehicle will pass by or a helicopter will spot us.”
She sighed and put her face to the ground for another lungful of air. She then straightened up and looked at him. Her gaze was drawn to the driver window above his head. “Look at that, Peter.”
He shaded his eyes and looked to the sky. It was an aircraft, but not like any he'd seen before. It was black, and it was pointed at both ends. There were no wings or rotor blades. Instead, two thin rods with oval-shaped loops protruded from each side. The aircraft passed over them silently, traveling east.
Twenty-eight
“Bobby, it is time for you to become aware.”
“Do not be afraid.”
“Where am I?”
“Open your eyes.” The voice was in Bobby’s head, and it sounded much like his own voice.
Bobby blinked. He was sitting on the ground, surrounded by weeds. Beyond the weeds were mangrove trees, many of them blasted to shreds or burned. Beyond the mangroves, a few miles off shore, jets and helicopters dropped bombs on the Caribbean sea, creating thunder and a wall of rising smoke and steam. He turned his head away from the coast. In the distance was Helmich’s compound, engulfed in flames, a sight he had been looking at from the aircraft only seconds ago. He looked up. The aircraft was high above the compound, a thin black line hovering in place.
“How did I get here?”
“I will explain soon. At this moment you must stand up and run.”
“What?” He spun around. “Why?”
“Above you. Stand up and run.”
Bobby scanned the sky. Two birds with long wings were flying toward him from above the burning compound.
“Stand up and run. It would be unwise to allow the approaching creatures to attack you.”
Bobby jumped to his feet. He came up quicker than he'd intended and sprawled on his face. Something was wrong—his arms and legs weren’t moving like they should.
“Focus your thoughts on your body. Think about moving, and then move. It will get easier. Now stand up and run.”
One of the birds screeched. They were getting closer. Bobby looked at his legs and concentrated on getting up. He got to his feet. He visualized running toward the nearest group of mangrove trees. His body took off.
When he was halfway to the trees the birds screeched again. They were right behind him, and he realized he wasn’t going to make it. He concentrated on running harder. His legs responded, covering the remaining distance faster than he'd ever run before. He skidded into a half-burned mangrove and slid under the lowest limbs and out the other side. He heard the two birds hit the tree behind him.
Safe for at least a few seconds, Bobby turned to look. Both birds had folded their wings and were walking on their elbows in a way no bird should be able to. They weren’t birds, they were reptiles, with long bills that were broader at the end and filled with sharp teeth. Some kind of pterosaur. They clambered through the mangrove, pulling at the low branches with clawed fingers on their elbows. They were coming after him.
Again he willed his legs to run. He darted around trees and burnt stumps until he was sure the pterosaurs could no longer see him. He rounded a mostly-intact mangrove and kneeled down, listening for the creatures and watching through the branches. One of them screeched. It sounded like it was flying away.
“It appears that you have eluded the creatures.”
Bobby looked around him and realized he was kneeling in foul, stagnant water. “Where are you?” The sudden quiet made him realize he had been talking with his thoughts. “Where are you?” he repeated, this time aloud.
“There is little time to explain now. We must attempt to prevent the transforming creatures from spreading.”
“Why can’t I see you?”
“I will explain briefly. Bobby, when you were in the aircraft you were attacked by the two creatures you just eluded. The creatures pulled you through the hatch. You were killed when you fell.”
“What?” Bobby looked down at his body. Panic began to rise within him, but then suddenly it subsided, as if it had simply been turned off with a switch. “I don’t remember that,” he said.
“No, you wouldn’t. Your current consciousness includes only the knowledge you had when I last touched you. I last touched you before I exited the aircraft to come to the surface, which was before the creatures attacked you.”
Bobby nodded, beginning to comprehend. “I died, and you created a new body for me. Like you did for Ashley when she drowned.”
“No. That procedure takes much time. We have insufficient time for it now. We must attempt to prevent the transforming creatures from spreading. Your consciousness has been archived within my parts, and I simply activated it. You are within my parts, Bobby.”
Bobby opened his mouth but failed to speak. He felt his heart begin to race, but then it abruptly slowed down and felt normal again. He looked down at his hands. They were not Addison’s freckled hands, they were his hands. And the clothes were his—the clothes Tiffany had bought at Kmart. He felt his face. It was his face. The hair on his head was his, including the extra long hair where he’d been shaved.
“You are curious as to why you are in your own body rather than that of Addison, my previous form. Changing to your form allowed faster activation of your consciousness, as fewer reconfigurations were necessary. We do not have time to spare. We must attempt to prevent—”
“I know we don’t have time!” Bobby said aloud. “But I’m kind of freaking out right now.”
“I understand.”
Bobby looked at his hands again. “This is you? The Lamotelokhai? It’s not a real body?”
“That is correct. But now it is also you.”
“But I feel normal! My heart’s beating, and I’m breathing air.”
“I configured my parts so that you would feel normal. You do not have to breathe air if you do not want to.”
Bobby closed his mouth and held his breath. He waited.
“Bobby, we should act now if we are going to attempt to prevent the transforming creatures from spreading.”
Bobby continued holding his breath. He waited. But he felt no increasing need for air. He opened his mouth but still didn’t suck any air in. It was true, he didn’t need to breathe.
He realized if he were in his real body he would have thrown up from shock.
“You will not throw up unless you want to,” the Lamotelokhai said.
Bobby took a deep breath, just to feel air moving into his lungs.
“Are you ready to help me, Bobby?”
&n
bsp; “Just wait!” Suddenly a terrible thought went through Bobby’s mind. “What about Ashley? And the others? Were they killed, too?”
“I did not detect additional deaths. I believe they are all alive and in the aircraft at this time.”
Bobby took another deep breath, this time in relief. Then he frowned. “Why did you tell me to run away from the pterosaurs? If I’m inside you, shouldn’t I be invincible?”
“I was being cautious. I am not certain what effect the transforming creatures will have on my parts. Possibly no effect at all.”
“But you’re not sure?”
“That is correct.”
Bobby took another deep breath and held it. Apparently he could hold it all day if he wanted to, but he let it out. “Okay, I think maybe I can deal with this now. Let’s do what we came here to do.”
“Very well. I have prevented the spreading of transforming creatures on a previous occasion.”
Bobby frowned. “You have?”
“It was on a smaller scale. I was able to create insects—flies—which carried my particles to all the transforming creatures. The particles then stopped the creatures from transforming further. I might be able to spread similar particles in this situation, but dispersing them with flies would not be effective, as it would take too long for flies to disperse throughout such a large area.”
Bobby considered this. “You need to create something faster, then. What about dragonflies? They’re some of the fastest insects.”
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