by C W Hawes
The tunnel was on the narrow side, barely allowing two average size men to stand next to each other. Mostyn, Jones, and Ohse walked single file. Three hundred feet into the tunnel the first side branches appeared.
“Okay, guys,” Mostyn began, “I think we go back. Don’t want to get lost down here.”
“Sounds good to me,” Ohse said.
“Whoa! What the hell?”
“What is it, Jones?” Mostyn asked.
“Down that branch. I could’ve sworn I saw something shining. Like eyes.”
Mostyn and Ohse added their flashlights to Jones’s, but there was nothing to see.
“I know I saw something,” Jones said, his voice insistent. He took a couple dozen steps into the passage and squatted. “Hey guys! Look!”
Mostyn and Ohse joined him. There, in their flashlight beams, was the faint imprint of a foot in the dust and crumbled surface of the hard-packed dirt floor. A human foot, with markings as if it had claws.
11
Jones stood. “I think this is the part in the movie where they say, ‘Oh, shit’.”
“I think you’re right, Jones,” Mostyn said. “Let’s go back.”
They trotted out to the main tunnel and retraced their steps. When they reached the stairs, they ran up two at a time. Once in the sub-basement, Mostyn paused a moment to catch his breath, and then ordered everyone to find any glass they could.
“There are a bunch of old canning jars in the other room,” Kemper said.
“Good. Get them,” Mostyn said, his voice tense.
“What is it?” Kemper asked.
“Think K’n-yan,” he replied.
Her eyes grew big and round. “Oh, shit.”
“Come on, people,” Mostyn called out. “Follow Dotty and be quick about it.”
They rounded up a couple dozen jars filled with food preserved perhaps a hundred or more years ago.
Mostyn took a couple jars and smashed them a dozen steps down, backed up a couple steps, took the jars Kemper handed him and smashed them. The odor of rotten preserves mingled with the musty air.
“Just the smell ought to deter anything down there,” Ohse said.
When the top dozen steps were littered with glass, Kemper and Cashel broke the remaining jars in a wide semi-circle around the entrance to the tunnels below.
“Hopefully that will be a sufficient deterrent,” Mostyn said. “Now let’s get us some reinforcements.”
The group made their way out of the cellar and when above ground took a look at the pitch black sky. Lightning flashed and a few seconds later the thunder boom was so loud the ground shook.
“I don’t think we’re going anywhere,” Ohse said.
“Afraid to drive in a little rain?” Jones taunted
“This isn’t going to be just a little rain,” Ohse replied.
Large drops began falling and then hail the size of walnuts began bouncing off the ground.
“You’re right, Ohse,” Mostyn said. “Into the house.”
Lightning flashed and the thunder boomed loudly. The drops of rain fell with greater frequency and intensity and the hail began to fall by bucketfuls. They ran to the house, pelted by rain and hail.
“Didn’t think I’d be glad to be back in here,” Jones said
Thunder boomed and the house shook.
“God, that was close,” Kemper said.
Cashel set her lamp down in a corner. “Think we can build a fire?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t,” Ohse said. “Chimneys are probably full of stuff. Haven’t been cleaned since forever.”
The house shook again and the boom was so loud, hands instinctively went to ears to cover them.
“Are the thunderstorms always this intense?” Kemper asked.
The house shook again in response to the thunder.
“Not always,” Ohse said. “Seems to be worse the higher up you go.”
All of a sudden the wind picked up, hurling rain and the last of the hail against the windows. Several of the old panes broke.
“Best to close the shutters,” Ohse said.
Flashlights went on, while Jones, Mansfield, and the deputy closed the shutters to keep the weather out.
“Let’s clear a spot and bring in some chairs,” Mostyn said, as he used his feet to push debris into a pile.
“How long is this going to last?” Baker asked.
Ohse shrugged. “Could end quickly. Could go on for hours.”
“Damn,” Kemper muttered.
“What?” Mostyn asked.
“No cellphone reception.”
“Hopefully we won’t need them,” Mostyn replied.
Visible through the cracks and crevices in the shutters and around the door was a brilliant flash of lightning; and, when the thunder boomed just after the flash, the house again shook on its foundation.
Cashel found a broom in the kitchen, and with the help of a couple small ash shovels, a spot was cleared and made relatively free of debris. Mansfield, Jones, and Ohse found enough wooden chairs in the dining room for everyone. They formed a circle and everyone sat looking at each other, while outside the storm howled.
“So what exactly did you guys see down there?” Kemper asked.
“Tunnels,” Mostyn said.
“Maybe pretty extensive,” Jones added.
“And…?” Kemper prompted.
“I thought I saw a pair of eyes in my flashlight beam,” Jones said. “But when we saw the footprint, that confirmed it.”
“Footprint?” Cashel said.
Jones nodded. “Human, but with indications of claws on the ends of the toes.”
“Good God,” Kemper muttered.
Mansfield was all smiles and rubbed his hands together. “Yes! We must find these beings and capture some specimens for study.”
Ohse, though, was agitated. “If whatever is down there is killing people, it needs to be destroyed.”
“Now, Deputy,” Mansfield began, “I can understand—”
Ohse cut the doctor off. “No, I don’t think you do. You aren’t from around here. These aren’t your people getting killed. To you, this is, what, like some kind of zoo animal.”
“Look, Ohse, we want to get to the bottom of this,” Mostyn soothed, “just like you. The most important thing is to stop the threat. Everything else is number two. And since I am in charge, that’s what will be doing. Understand?”
Ohse nodded, although the anger still showed on his face.
However, Mansfield was now upset. “Look here, Mostyn, this just might be the most important find since evolution was first advanced as a viable explanation of human origins. Now we see evidence of human degeneration. Reverse evolution. Surely—”
Mostyn held up his hand. “The first order of business is to protect these people here, in this State. Once that’s done, then we can pursue your evidence. Understand?”
Mansfield didn’t say anything.
Mostyn repeated, “Doctor Mansfield, do you understand?”
Mansfield looked Mostyn in the eyes. “I understand.”
“Good.”
Another thunder boom shook the house to its foundation. Mansfield stood and walked down the hall towards the kitchen.
“He’s really hellbent on this… What’s it called?” Jones said.
“Abhumans,” Kemper answered. “The idea of human regression, physically and mentally, to something less than human.” She stood. “I’ll see if he’s alright.” And walked out to the kitchen.
The wind continued to howl, the panes of window glass rattled, the shutters shook, and even the door jumped in it’s frame.
Cashel looked around the room. “I hope this place holds together.”
“It should,” Ohse said. “It’s built like a fort.”
Kemper and Mansfield returned. He sat, but Kemper walked over to one of the fireplaces.
“Why is this abhuman thing so important to you, Jeffrey?” Cashel asked.
Mansfield took a deep breath. “I guess
it’s a question of metaphysics. The nature of being. We wrestle with the concepts of good and evil. Especially evil. Why do we humans behave so badly when we want to be good?”
“I guess everyone asks that question,” Cashel said.
“Precisely,” Mansfield said.
From the other side of the room, Kemper said, “And if God is good, why is there so much evil?”
“Right again,” Mansfield said. “So the question is asked, ‘What are we?’ If we are angels, why do we act like devils? If we are basically good, why do we do — and even seem to relish — what’s bad? Does being human mean we’re above the animals? Or does being human mean we’re really beasts with a mask of civility?”
“Any answers?” Mostyn asked.
Mansfield rubbed his hands together and his face glowed with excitement. “Evolution posits a one-way progression from the simple to the complex. Humans, along with all other primates, had a common origin. Along the way, nature’s various experiments didn’t all make it. Not every primate, human or otherwise, survived. So one could say, nature itself tends to prune the bush leaving only the most desirable branches.”
“So far nothing new here,” Mostyn said.
“Precisely. But the theory of evolution operates under the assumption that life always moves from simple to complex. In other words, a closed system. But no system is truly closed. We see this in the second law of thermodynamics. The conversion of energy from one form to another is not perfect. There is waste. Heat.
“So what if the development of species, the progression, is also accompanied by regression? Wasted energy, as it were. Entropy, this wasted energy, increases the randomness of the universe. Makes it less orderly. I see evolutionary regression as the result of entropy in the evolutionary process.”
“But where’s the proof?” Kemper asked.
Mansfield smiled. “It just may be in the tunnels beneath this house.”
Lightning flashed, thunder boomed, and the wind shrieked. The front door blew in and a set of shutters flew open, rain and glass blowing in. Jones jumped up to secure the shutters and Ohse dashed to the door.
There was a choked off cry of alarm, and then Deputy Ohse sank to his knees and pitched over onto his back. The lightning flashed and everyone could see his face was gone. It had been chewed off.
12
“Oh, my God!” Cashel screamed.
Mostyn dashed to the door, his pistol drawn, but nothing was there. He closed the heavy door. “Jones, Baker, bring some of that ruined furniture here to block the door.”
While Jones and Baker were wrestling with a ruined sofa, Mostyn dragged the body of the dead deputy out of the way. The two men pushed the decayed sofa against the door.
Mostyn nodded his approval. “That ought to slow down whatever’s out there.”
“What about the windows?” Cashel asked, her voice tense and jittery.
“You have your firearm?” Mostyn asked her.
She nodded.
“Then use it, if you have to.”
The word “okay” was barely audible.
“Listen up, people,” Mostyn began, “whatever these things are, they’re deadly. Don’t be a hero and don’t be afraid to use your firearm.”
“We really need to capture one of these creatures,” Mansfield said.
“You know, Doc,” Baker began, “I’ve been on a lot of missions and taken a lot of pictures. Sometimes, as much as I’d have wanted to have it otherwise, the camera had to be set aside in favor of a gun or some other weapon. Survival had to take the place of science. Something to think about.”
The look on Mansfield’s face indicated it wasn’t something he wanted to think about.
Lightning flashed and after a few moments the thunder boomed, less loudly than before.
“Storm’s moving off,” Mansfield said.
“Good,” was Mostyn’s reply.
“The sooner we’re out of here, the better,” Cashel said.
More thunder rumbled and it sounded soft and distant. Mostyn opened the shutters on one of the windows and looked out on the open area surrounding the house. “Rain’s letting up and most of the hail has melted. Jones, I want you to escort Kemper and Cashel to the SUV. Drive to wherever you need to go to get a cellphone signal. First, call in our situation to Bardon. Request back-up and tell him it’s urgent. We need it before Sheriff Elswick gets a crusade together to avenge Ohse’s death. Let some time pass and then call Elswick and report his deputy’s death.”
“Got it, Boss.”
“Baker, Mansfield, and I will stay here to protect the body. You only come back when Elswick arrives. Kemper, Cashel, you stay with the vehicle.”
“Like hell, Mostyn,” Kemper said. “I want in on this. If these things truly are abhumans, then this is a real find. In fact, I’m staying. I’m not going anywhere.”
Doctor Mansfield was all smiles.
Mostyn looked at the floor. “Dotty.”
“Don’t ‘Dotty’ me, Mostyn. I don’t need protecting.”
“Very well, Dot.” He turned to Jones and Cashel. “You two okay by yourselves?”
Jones waved his hand, dismissing Mostyn’s concern. “Don’t worry, Boss. I got this.”
Cashel was hesitant, but after a moment she said, “Jones and I will be fine, Mostyn.”
“Best leave now, then, before it gets dark.”
Jones and Baker moved the decayed sofa blocking the door and when it was out of the way, Jones, pistol ready, opened the door. However, no monster appeared. Only a soft rain. He and Cashel left, she carrying her lamp under her arm. Mostyn and the others watched until they disappeared into the forest.
***
The sun had just set when the whump-whump of the big Chinook was heard.
“Sounds like the cavalry has just crested the hill,” Mostyn said.
Baker, who was stretched out over four chairs, lazily sat up. “Good. Maybe they’ll let us go home.”
Kemper’s tone was derisive. “How long have you worked for the OUP?”
“Yeah, well, a guy can hope. Can’t he?” Baker replied, a smile on his lips.
Mostyn went to the door and opened it. The big Chinook was trying to find a place to land. With a sixty-foot rotor diameter, the task was proving to be a challenge due to the trees that dotted the open area surrounding the house.
Baker, Kemper, and Mansfield joined Mostyn just outside the front door. They watched the big chopper hover about forty feet in the air, its floodlights illuminating the ground below. The side cargo door opened and two lines were dropped. Men dressed in black abseiled to the ground. Other men in the helicopter prepared a bundle of equipment and lowered it to their compatriots. The first load was followed by a second and a third. The final pieces of equipment were three robots, lowered one by one to the ground. The robots were followed by more men in black. When the last one had joined the formation, the lines were hauled in and the Chinook flew off.
Mostyn and his team walked over to the twenty new arrivals, who had broken formation and were busy sorting out the equipment. One of the men separated himself and trotted over to meet Mostyn and his people halfway.
Looking from Mostyn to Baker to Mansfield, he asked, “Special Agent in Charge Mostyn?”
“I’m Mostyn.”
“Captain Ronald Pittman, OUP Special Forces.”
Mostyn and the captain shook hands. Mostyn then introduced him to the other members of his team.
“What can you tell me about the situation?” Pittman asked.
Mostyn gave him a thumbnail sketch of what had happened since their arrival at the dilapidated mansion.
“The indications, then, are that these creatures live underground, is that it?” Pittman asked.
“That’s our working hypothesis,” Mostyn replied. “The Martense family in the Catskills, according to an unverified report, had taken to living underground. We’re of the same opinion that’s what’s happened here.”
“And this based on the eyes
Special Agent Jones said he saw and the footprint three of you saw.”
“Correct,” Mostyn confirmed.
“How do we get to the tunnels?”
Flashlights appeared at the tree line. Mostyn counted sixteen of them and in a moment, they were crossing the open area. Captain Pittman turned in the direction of Mostyn’s gaze.
“Who’re they?” he asked.
“I’d say that’s the local authority about to claim jurisdiction,” Kemper said.
Mostyn smiled. “Yep. That’s what I’d say, too.”
Pittman growled and uttered the word, “shit”, and then shook his head. “That’s all we need. Damn locals.”
“Let me talk to the sheriff,” Mostyn said.
“Go ahead,” Pittman replied. “We’ll get our equipment in position.” He started walking back to where his men were standing.
“I’ll show you the entrance to the cellars,” Mansfield volunteered.
“Thanks,” Pittman called over his shoulder.
Mostyn met Sheriff Elswick’s party as they were coming through the opening in the wall where the gate had been.
“Who are those people, Mostyn?” Elswick demanded, his tone indicating he wasn’t in a good mood.
“Health and Human Services Special Forces.”
“Yeah, right. And I’m the president.” To his men, Elswick said, “Tyler, Dempsey, secure Ohse’s body. The rest of you, get down to that cellar.”
While the Sheriff was directing his men, Jones stepped to Mostyn’s side and told him Cashel was with the vehicle.
Elswick turned his attention back to Mostyn. “I don’t know who you are or who you’re really with, and I don’t care. This is my county and I’m in charge. You take orders from me, or leave. That’s your choice.”
To Mostyn, Jones said, “I brought the LORSCOM.”
“Thanks, Jones. Set it up and get Bardon.”
“Right, Boss.” Jones, with a large black case in hand, set off towards the house.
“What’s he doing?” Elswick asked.
“With cellphone reception non-existent here, Jones brought our Long-Range Satellite Communicator. He’s going to talk to our boss.”