by Russ Watts
There was shouting, and then Ryan saw Fagan. He was running alongside Hendrickson over the crest of the hill at the centre of the island. Evidently, the others had not reached the assault course before hearing the monster’s arrival. Ryan watched in a daze as the monster gave chase, its four legs powerful enough to carry it across the land. He watched as Dobbs, Crowson and Kelly were killed instantly, smashed beneath the thing’s jaws and chewed up. Blood spurted out of the things teeth as it crunched on the men’s dead bodies. Fagan tried to out-run it, but the monster was too quick and snatched him up. Ryan felt dizzy as he saw his colleague dangling half in and half out of the things jaws. Fagan’s torso was pinned between two teeth and his arms flailed uselessly as the monster continued to grind its teeth and bludgeon the life out of him. Hendrickson was hiding behind a rock, and Ryan tried to shout to him, to warn him, but there was no time. The monster raised itself up on its two elongated, stronger, hind legs and then simply smashed its front legs down upon the rock, permanently leaving the WO embedded in the island.
When the monster crashed down on top of Hendrickson, it felt like an earthquake and Ryan stood up unsteadily, unsure what to do next. The monster was picking them off with ease, and he needed to find shelter, to find some way of avoiding becoming just another snack. Creech, Fagan and the others were gone, dead. It had taken the monster all of sixty seconds to devour them. Healthy strong men, reduced to fish food. Yet, Ryan knew he had to get help, and warn the base what was coming. If the monster continued on its current path, the death toll would be terrible. He couldn’t let that happen. He had to…
Ryan was terrified as the monster’s tail smashed into him. He was suddenly airborne as he was thrown twenty feet up into the air and he was given an opportunity to see the monster in all its glory. Between the blue sky and the wildflowers growing amidst the island’s tough grass, the monster looked like an impressive joke. It was a mammoth beast, full of teeth, its hideous brown-green skin still glistening as the sun dried the water off its back. Ryan caught a glimpse of the naval base, low grey and white buildings scattered to the east over the runways, and heard another of those awful barks, before he fell to the ground and he was knocked unconscious. As he slipped away, the barking of the monster faded into silence and the world disappeared.
***
Picking a clump of grass from his hair, Ryan got to his feet. The landing had not been soft, and it had knocked the wind out of him. Thankfully, nothing was broken, and he was able to stand with only a little bruising to show for his encounter with the strange creature. He wasn’t sure how long he had been out, but judging from the altitude of the sun, it could only have been an hour. Ryan’s shadow walked ahead of him as he made his way back to base. He was taking the most direct route he could, straight across the centre of the island. The coastal path would take too long, and he had to get back as quickly as possible. His gut was sore, and he suspected he was going to arrive too late to be of any use. There was no sign of the monster itself, but plenty of evidence where it had been. It had gouged out a path across the island, a deep track that Ryan could follow precisely. Even in the dim light, there was no way he could get lost now.
As much as he wanted to circumnavigate the place where his team had been killed earlier, he didn’t have much choice. Splashes of dark blood gave away where they had died, and it was as if the monster was leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for Ryan to follow. As he walked past the rock where Hendrickson has been hiding, he felt his eyes drawn there. He had expected to see his Warrant Officer’s body there, decimated and bloody, but there was little to see. The body was mostly buried beneath the giant rock, and all Ryan could see of his former WO was an arm and hand, the fingers rigidly stuck up and pointed to the sky.
Plenty of blood had pooled around the base of the rock, and Ryan broke into a jog. He had been incredibly lucky, twice. The monster had somehow missed him as it had eaten its way through his team, and then when it had accidentally thrown him into the air, he had landed on the ground. If he had been thrown any further, he would most likely have ended up in the ocean or halfway down the cliffs. Either way, he was fortunate still to be here. He picked up the pace, wondering how far the monster had gone. He couldn’t hear anything and was worried. If it was still around, shouldn’t there be gunfire, noise of some sort indicating they were taking the thing on? Equally, there were no more of those barking sounds, which simultaneously filled him with terror and relief. If the monster was quiet, then either it was dead or gone, and Ryan was grateful he wouldn’t have to face it again. The other reason for the absence of noise though, was too horrible to think about. If the monster had come upon the base unprepared, there might not be much left to go back to.
Finally, Ryan reached the border of the base and stood at the edge of the runways. Two small strips of land had been concreted over, and on the other side of them were the collection of buildings he had begun his training in and now called home. He could see the officer’s quarters, the mess hall, the training rooms, two jeeps and one plane. All of them had been destroyed.
Ryan walked across the runway, confused. How could a beast just climb from the ocean like that and tear its way through a naval base? How could they not have known about it? Was it some sort of mutant aberration, or an escapee from a private enclosure somewhere? Was it a freak of nature that had come up from a deep-sea abyss? Ryan realised he was focussing on the wrong thing. It didn’t matter right now where it had come from, only that it was here. And it clearly ate a lot more than plankton.
As he neared the base, he noticed bodies on the runway, the clothing torn, and the limbs twisted at unnatural angles. There were hunks of meat too, arms and legs missing their owners. As he got closer, he saw the people were all dead. Nothing moved. The features on the few faces he dared to look at were unrecognisable. It looked like they had been literally torn apart. He remembered how easily the thing had scooped up Creech and could imagine how the animal tore through the base just as easily. They would have been running for their lives, and the beasts’ jaws would’ve scythed through them like a combine harvesting a field of corn.
Usually the base was full of activity, but now it was eerie. To walk through the deserted streets, amongst the burning buildings, was disconcerting. Ryan felt very alone right then.
“Anyone here? Anyone at all?” Ryan had reached the mess hall and the door was open. Inside, it was deserted too. Broken chairs and food scattered the floor, and from the kitchen, a radio played quietly in the background. Ryan listened to the song as he stared into the vacant room. It was something about fish not having feelings, and caused an old rhyme to pop into his head. It darted around his head as he searched for any sign he was not alone.
“And once I caught a fish alive…Jesus, this isn’t happening,” he said as he turned about and ran over to the main office. The building had been obliterated. The walls had caved in and smoke was pouring out, obscuring the interior from Ryan’s view. He tried again.
“Is there anyone there? Hello?”
A resounding silence met his questions, and Ryan looked around for help. More blood was splashed over the ground as he ran from building to building, looking for something, anyone, just any sign that someone had made it. As he ran, he felt the evening drawing in. The sun was low and shadows loomed over Ryan as he ran. He sped up, getting more and more desperate to find someone. He rounded a corner and tripped over something on the ground, sprawling over the harsh tarmac.
“Are you…” Ryan stopped when he saw that the person he had tripped over was most definitely dead. The woman was one of the mess hall staff, an elderly Spanish speaking woman he recalled serving him with a chorizo pasta only last night. She had been decapitated at the knees, and had bled out. Her face was pale and tight, her eyes wide with fear at the moment of death. Ryan turned away on all fours, and dragged himself across the ground, away from the dead woman. His hands and knees slipped through oily puddles of thick, black blood. He crawled over another body, then another,
and finally came to a rest by the wheel of a truck. He sat upright, drawing in gasps of breath. His head was light, and as he looked around at the carnage, he knew then he was the only one on the island alive.
There had been over two hundred people on the island. Was he truly the last one alive on the island? Had anyone else made it? He didn’t feel like a man anymore, didn’t feel like a soldier either. He felt like he was that slight, fair-haired boy from Ramona again. He wished he had drunk too much Rolling Rock with George Merriweather. He wished he had gone to Prom and screwed Sandra Hamilton in his basement. He wished he had smoked too much, bunked off class more, and listened to his father. Selling curtains for a living suddenly didn’t seem like such a bad option. Then as panic threatened to swallow him up completely, a sense of responsibility washed over him. He might be the last one left alive on San Clemente, but…
“Oh God, no.” Ryan jumped up and ran through the broken buildings, running toward the east of the island, to where his thoughts were now headed. The monster’s path was easy to follow once he cleared the base, and the deep trench left behind by the thing’s tail was like an arrow, headlining where it had come from. More importantly, it showed exactly where it was headed. Ryan stopped running and looked out across the ocean. The lights of San Diego were too far to see, but the outline of the coast was just visible in the dusk. The Californian shore was dead ahead. Ryan forgot about Sandra Hamilton, assault courses and chorizo pasta. He knew he had to find a working radio, and fast.
CHAPTER 11
OCTOBER 18TH 16:48
“Come on,” hissed Amanda. “Get your ass up here.” She was lying at the back of the stage, her arms over the water and hidden from the growing crowd in the stadium, trying to coax Diablo up to the surface. If the star of the show didn’t turn up to the party, the evening would be disastrous, and Amanda knew just who Zola would blame. The stage was currently hidden from view of the public, shielded by a huge curtain that would only be pulled back when they were ready to start the show and unveil Diablo. Amanda could hear the volume of the crowd on the other side of the curtain, and was beginning to feel the pressure. Nervous energy twisted around her gut and she hadn’t eaten all day.
Still lying submerged at the bottom of the pool, Diablo was like a mirage, constantly shimmering in and out of view. The creature was stubbornly refusing to join in, and Amanda was running out of ideas. They’d shot it full of tranquiliser earlier so they could transport it safely to Shakti Stadium. Now that it was here though, it was even more inactive than before. It was as if it had taken one look at the stadium and decided to give up. Amanda had hoped that with the extra space to swim around in, Diablo might perk up. An hour earlier, he had swum to the bottom of the pool and stayed there ever since.
With the lack of food the most likely cause for the creature’s lack of animation, she had tried to slip it vitamins and supplements to give it some energy. Even when she had forcibly dropped a large dead tuna into the poor animal’s mouth, it had refused to swallow it and regurgitated the fish, vitamins and all.
Zola had wanted to give it a stimulant, just something to give it a boost before the show, to make sure the paying guests got what they’d come for. Jay had agreed, but Amanda wouldn’t let them. They had absolutely no clue as to what the drugs might do to it. Its metabolism and nervous system was like nothing they had ever studied, and a stimulant could cause it to react in a number of ways, including a heart attack.
“Come on, please,” whispered Amanda again, as she drew her arms across the surface of the pool. She actually felt sorry for it. It was an ugly son-of-a-bitch, but it looked one step closer to death every day. It was no way to die, plucked from the freedom and space of the open ocean, only to die of starvation in captivity.
“Well?” Zola appeared on the stage behind Amanda, causing her to jump.
“Mrs Bertoni, you startled me,” said Amanda getting to her feet. “I was just trying to get your star ready. Apparently, he’s a bit shy. As you can see,” she said, pointing to the pool.
Zola stood with her arms crossed and her face set. She wore a sparkling dress for the occasion, red fuck-me heels, and more make-up than Amanda had ever seen her wear in her life. Mr Bertoni had spared no expense tonight on his wife. Amanda was impressed at how good Zola actually looked. It was a shame she was such a bitch.
“Miss Tass, I don’t have time for any more excuses,” said Zola walking toward Amanda. “I have to go out there in ten minutes, and present this to an audience of millions. Millions. I’ve got CNN out there going crazy and offers from all of the dailies wanting an exclusive. There are about fifty reporters down there, not to mention the Governor of California and some suits just showed up from the NTSC. A major movie star is arriving in exactly seven minutes and twenty-three seconds. I spent more money on this dress than you earn in a year. I have planned this down to the last detail. I have got the whole world watching, and now you’re telling me it’s shy?”
Amanda offered Zola a timid smile and looked at the maroon curtain that was obscuring them both from the awaiting audience beyond the stage. She could probably lay a drop on Zola now, hold her head under the water until her Botox-riddled body went limp, and be out of the state before anyone figured it out. She took a step forward. “I did try to tell you. He’s not a performing monkey. Your new pet is not like Poppy or Pete. He’s not going to jump through hoops or do back-flips just because you want him to. I mean for Christ’s sake, he hasn’t eaten in almost a week. What do you expect?”
“I should’ve done this already. I don’t know what I was thinking trusting you with this, Amanda. For some God damn reason I listened to Don when I should’ve gone with my gut all along.” Zola turned her back on Amanda and spoke into the wireless headset she wore discreetly beneath her lush brown hair. “Don, can you hear me? Don? Yes, get me Jay right now. Tell him to bring the Methylmethcathinone. Actually, tell him to bring the Mephedrone that we got in last week too. And tell him I need it down here right now, he’s on.” Zola paused. She tapped her headpiece. “You got all that? Tell Jay if he’s not here in four minutes, he can look for another job in the morning.” She turned around to Amanda.
“It’s your choice, Amanda. You can help Jay, or you can join him at the social welfare office tomorrow morning. What’s it to be?”
“Seriously? Are you fucking joking? You can’t do this, it is way too risky. You have no idea what will happen.” Amanda strode up to Zola and jammed a finger in her face. “I won’t let you do this.”
Zola was unfazed by Amanda’s outburst. “Actually, I have a pretty good idea what will happen. It will wake up at last. Our superstar is the hottest thing on the planet right now and I need a performance tonight, Amanda, not a wet fish. Excuse the pun. If you won’t help Jay, then you know where the exit is. Thank you for your work. I’ll have your things sent to you.”
Zola walked away leaving Amanda stunned. How could she do this? The animal didn’t need a stimulant, particularly a dangerous one if delivered in the wrong doses. She looked back at the pool, at the unmoving form deep in the water. Her heart began racing, as she heard the compere on the other side of the curtain announce the arrival of yet another celebrity and the noise of the crowd went up a notch.
“Zola, wait.” Amanda raced to catch up to her boss. “Zola, please, just listen to me. I’m sorry. I’m just concerned, okay? Just put it off for another day or two. Let’s study Diablo a bit more, get him ready, and back to good health. I can figure it out. Just give me a little more time? You can use the underwater viewing area for now, just give the media a glimpse, get them interested and they’ll come back for more. What do you say?”
From a side-door below the stage, Amanda heard footsteps and then Jay’s head appeared. She looked back to Zola imploringly.
Jay came over to them both, sweaty and dishevelled. He was out of breath, and carrying a small briefcase. “I got here as fast as I could, Mrs Bertoni,” he panted.
“Jay,” said Zola lookin
g at Amanda, “pump Diablo full of drugs, whatever you’ve got. I want it thrashing around in five minutes like a wild fucking banshee in the middle of Hurricane Irene.”
Zola disappeared down the side steps, whilst Jay rushed over to the edge of the stage. He proceeded to bring a tranquiliser gun out from the briefcase, and a set of vials. He loaded the gun and stood with it facing down into the water.
“Jay, stop, think about this.” Amanda put an arm on Jay’s and tried to get him to look at her. “I know you. You know better than this.”
“Let it go, Amanda, it’s too late. You really think you can stop this now? If I don’t do it, she’ll just find someone else.” Jay squinted as he trained his sights on Diablo. “Now, come here you overgrown lizard, I’m gonna make you famous.”
The dart exploded through the water and Jay was sure he had hit Diablo. There was a slight movement from the creature, but then nothing. The animal’s hide was so tough, he had to be sure at least one of the darts penetrated its skin.
Amanda recoiled and shivered, despite the warmth of the evening sun. “Jay, no more. One is enough. Please.” She could see Diablo wasn’t moving and it crossed her mind that maybe he had died already. Perhaps he had just swum to the bottom of the tank and drowned.
Jay reloaded and fired again. He reloaded, and then fired a third time and a fourth time. “In one minute that curtain is coming back, Amanda, and Diablo had better show up or we’re all finished.”
“How much did you give him, Jay? How much?” Amanda watched as Jay packed up the briefcase. He closed it and then headed toward the side steps that led to the underground passageway, away from the stadium. Amanda ran after him and grabbed his arm. He shrugged her off and she slipped backward, falling awkwardly on the steps. “Tell me how much you gave him!”
Jay hesitated. “Enough.” He gave Amanda an apologetic look. “Enough to give her what she wants.”