Horror Sci-Fi Box Set: Three Novels

by Bryan Dunn

  The Land Cruiser lurched forward, nosed down, and seesawed through a wash, pitching Ray forward and causing his glasses to slip down the bridge of his nose.

  Ray gripped the door handle and righted himself, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I don’t get it. Seems like we should be concentrating our efforts closer to the lab.”

  “I thought about that,” Nick said, braking and hauling the wheel over to avoid a mound of scrub. After they were safely past, he glanced at Ray and said, “But I’m playing a hunch.”

  He pointed through the windshield at the salt that surrounded them in all directions. “It’s got to be pushing a hundred degrees out there on the ground.”

  Ray stared out, watching the heat waves shimmering above the salt. A light bulb went off in his head and he blurted, “Shelter! The creature would want shelter.” The Land Cruiser’s tires found another pothole, sending him shooting up and down like a piston. “Salt Springs Cavern, or the Clayton Mine.”

  “Bingo,” Nick said with a nod. “Give the man a stuffed animal.”

  Hearing the words “Clayton Mine,” Willie thrust his head between the front seats and cranked his face toward Nick. “What exactly is this thing, Doc?”

  Nick glanced at Willie and said, “I’m not sure.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Listen, Willie, I can’t really discuss it, okay?”

  “Yeah, okay,” Willie said and immediately asked, “Well, how big is the thing?”

  Nick shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. Small.”

  “Small…” Willie repeated, mulling over that bit of information. “Small like a lizard, or a rat?”

  “A lizard, maybe,” Ray said, “But with—”

  “We don’t know,” Nick said, cutting Ray off. “We don’t know what it looks like. We really can’t say.”

  “Hell, Doc, it sounds like what you don’t know about this thing is a lot.”

  “Willie,” Nick said, his voice pointed. “Just…just keep your eyes open and help us find this thing.”

  “Sure, Doc,” Willie said, slumping back in his seat. “Sure, I’ll keep my eyes open. But if I don’t know what it looks like, how am I gonna know if I see it or not?”

  “Trust me,” Ray said, “you’ll know it when you see it.”

  On Ray’s comment, the cabin fell silent, all of them staring out, scanning the salt for any sign of the creature. They bounced along like that for another minute, then Nick maneuvered the Land Cruiser on to a jeep trail that cut across the salt and emptied out a few miles up ahead on the main road in front of the entrance to the Salt Cavern State Preserve.

  “Ah, that’s much better,” Ray said, commenting on the improved ride and then reached out an dialed up the AC.

  They continued on for a few more minutes, all of them craning their necks left and right, anxious for some sign of the creature. Nick let off the gas, thinking he’d spotted something. But after a closer look, it was just a piece of scrub tumbling across the salt, pushed along by a gust of wind.

  Nick accelerated again, and as his eyes drifted across the salt, he suddenly found himself doubting his gut feeling, thinking that his hunch may have been the wrong play.

  “Look!” Willie said. He began excitedly pointing out his window. “Over there. Some animal.”

  Nick braked, cranked the wheel over, and sent the Land Cruiser careening through the salt in the direction Willie was pointing in.

  About twenty yards directly in front of them, the animal that Willie had spotted lay sprawled on the ground.

  The Toyota raced toward it, tires crunching through the salt like it was freshly fallen snow, swerved to avoid a rise covered with Indiangrass, and skidded to a stop ten feet in front of the fallen animal.

  Nick, Ray, and Willie got out of the car and approached the animal. Willie blurted out what they were all thinking. “It’s a deer. A buck.”

  There, lying helplessly on its side, legs sticking out in the late stages of rigor mortis, was a two hundred and twenty pound mule deer.

  “It’s a deer. A dead deer,” Ray said, stepping up to the carcass.

  “A dead mule deer,” Willie corrected, then reached out and touched one of the spikes on the buck’s seven-point rack. When he touched it, the deer’s eyes sprang open and rolled toward him.

  “Shit!” Willie yelled, jumping back in shock, his heart thudding in his chest. “There’s no way that thing is still alive.”

  Nick moved forward and knelt next to the deer. He reached out and gently placed a hand on its ribcage. A panic-filled eye cut toward him, but the rest of the deer’s body remained still and lifeless.

  Weird.

  “It’s some sort of motor paralysis,” Nick said, removing his hand from the deer’s body. “But it doesn’t seem to be affecting systolic and respiratory functions.”

  Nick lifted one of the buck’s front legs, then released it. The leg fell to the ground, stiff and lifeless as a stick.

  Willie moved closer and ran a hand across the buck’s back and under its neck, checking for signs of blood or trauma. “Nothing,” Willie said, holding up a hand for the others to see. “No blood…and I can’t see any place where it might have been hurt.”

  “Well, something got it good,” Ray said, keeping his distance, not wanting to get any closer to the zombie deer than necessary.

  “Very strange,” Nick said. “I’ve never seen anything—” Nick stopped, suddenly remembering something. Max, the guard dog. Jesus—the dog had looked exactly like the deer.

  “What?” Ray said, staring at Nick. “What is it?”

  “Remember Max?” Nick glanced from the deer to Ray. “This buck…it looks exactly like that German shepherd did. Dead-looking, but not dead.”

  Ray stared at the deer. “God, you’re right.”

  “Oh, shit…” Willie said, pointing to a spot on the ground that was partially obscured by the deer’s antlers. “Lookee here. A footprint.”

  Nick and Ray scrambled over to Willie and looked where he was pointing. They saw it, too: a perfectly formed footprint in the soft soil. The deer’s head and antlers had protected it from being washed away by the rain.

  Nick gripped the antlers and shifted the buck’s head, giving them a better view of the track.

  The first thing that went through everyone’s mind was that it looked human—only much wider—and each of its six toes ended in a hooked claw. But what really got Nick’s attention was the size of the print. It looked three or four times larger than the track they’d seen outside the lab. My God, the thing is already growing.

  Chapter 18

  A half hour later, after having no luck finding additional tracks around the deer, the Land Cruiser pulled into the crumbling asphalt parking lot of the Salt Springs Cavern State Preserve. Weeds had replaced the parking lot’s striped lines, and the office, visitor’s center, and picnic area surrounding the cavern’s entrance looked neglected and rundown. What had once been a neat and well tended attraction was now a seedy-looking dump.

  Nick crossed the parking lot. He climbed a set of rotting steps that led to the office, and read the “Tours by appointment only” sign. He went to a window, cupped his hands against the glass, and looked inside.

  “No one’s there,” Willie said, calling to Nick as he loosened a chunk of asphalt with the toe of his boot. “Ain’t no one ever here these days.”

  “Yeah, I can see that,” Nick said, as he crossed to the visitor’s center.

  He went up to a plate-glass window and took in the friendly-looking reception area. Covering one entire wall were three large diagrams outlining the different tours that were available and their level of difficulty. Colorful brochures were neatly stacked on an information center desk, and directly above that, a sign warned: “CELL PHONES, GPS, AND RADIOS DO NOT WORK UNDERGROUND.”

  He moved to a door, tried the handle, and—not surprisingly—found it locked. He pushed on the door and felt the latch give in the weathered frame. He tried t
he handle once more, then turned and drove a shoulder into the door just above the latch. The rotting jamb split and gave way and the door swung wide.

  * * * *

  Ten minutes later, Ray and Willie stood in front of the cavern. The entrance looked like a jagged tear in a chalk-colored cliff that was weathered like the Grand Canyon.

  Ray and Willie were wearing orange Petzl caving helmets with attached LED halogen headlamps that they’d found stored in a locker in the visitor’s center for emergencies.

  “Okay, let’s do it,” Nick said, trotting up behind them wearing an identical helmet and holding a net similar to the kind used to boat game fish.

  Ray and Willie turned to Nick, saw the net, and exchanged looks of disbelief.

  “A net?” Ray said. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “What are you gonna do, Doc?” Willie laughed. “Bag this thing like a trout?”

  “If anyone has a better idea, I’m all ears.”

  Neither of them did. And a few moments later, they were marching down a well-worn path that led to the cavern entrance. Bringing up the rear, Ray shouldered a daypack and said, “Hey, maybe I should wait here, you know, in case it’s not in the cave.”

  “No,” Nick said, adjusting the fit of his helmet. “We need all eyes in the cavern. I know that thing went to ground. Don’t ask me how, I just do.”

  Willie stepped up to a length of chain link fence with a locked gate. He bent up a corner of the wire fence where it met the ground. “We can get through here.”

  * * * *

  As they descended into the cavern’s blackness, daylight fell away and each man switched on his head lamp. With Nick in the lead, they entered the cave. Three swords of light leapt out, slicing through the dark, illuminating the polished rock walls that glistened with moisture.

  They descended for twenty yards, emerged from the cave’s narrow entrance, and entered the Grey Ghost, a cathedral-sized room that marked the true beginning of the cavern. The room had gotten its name from the ghost-shaped stain that ran up a wall and covered most of the ceiling.

  At the far side of the chamber where the floor canted downward were three distinct openings, each labeled with a brightly-colored number one through three that had been attached to the rock directly above each passageway. Each cave lead to a different part of the cavern. The numbers indicated the level of difficulty of each tour: 1 for beginners, 2 for amateurs with some experience, and 3 for experts.

  Nick and Ray stood in awe, glancing around the massive room, taking in the polished walls, the intricate rock formations, and the ghost-shaped stain that lent its name to this part of the cave. It was their first trip into the cavern, and they were both obviously impressed by its scope and grandeur.

  Ray cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Hello…” Then he listened as the cave echoed back, “Hello… Hello… Hello…”

  “Just like in the movies,” Ray said as silence settled over them again.

  “Great, Ray,” Nick said. “Now keep your eyes peeled for anything that moves.”

  “Oh, yeah, the creature,” Ray said, sorry for the reminder.

  Willie worked his way down the chamber, stopping in front of the three numbered openings and calling to Nick, “Which way, Doc?” His voice pinballed around the chamber.

  Nick raised his head, spotlighting Willie with his helmet lamp and said, “You’re familiar with these caves, right?”

  “Hell, yes. Me and my brother Scooter practically lived down here when we was kids. Scoot used to call this ‘Chinese Dungeon.’ Said if we found the right passage, we’d pop out in Hong Kong.”

  Ray closed ranks with Nick, feeling a little undone by the darkness. The cave’s temperature differential began to fog his lenses, and suddenly he couldn’t see. “It’s creepy down here,” Ray said, cleaning his glasses with the corner of his t-shirt.

  Ignoring Ray, Nick kept his light on Willie and asked, “Is there a main water source down here?”

  Willie turned, pointed to passageway number three, and said, “Yep. There’s a sulfur spring about a quarter mile down that chamber.”

  “Okay, that’s where I want to go.”

  “What? You think your lizard-bug thingy is thirsty, Doc?”

  “Just lead the way, Willie,” Nick said, moving down to join him.

  “Ah, hello, excuse me,” Ray said, holding up a brochure he’d grabbed in the visitor’s center. “Cave number three—tour number three—is an advanced route. Experts only.”

  Nick turned and pasted Ray with his lamp. “Fine, Ray. You stay here, then.”

  After a silent moment, Ray said, “Alone? Wait here alone?”

  “I can get us to the spring, Doc,” Willie said, “but after that, we’ll need climbing gear. Harnesses and rope. Lots of rope.”

  “Well, let’s start with the spring, see if we get lucky.”

  “Yeah,” Ray said, hustling over to join them. “The spring. Let’s go to the spring.”

  Chapter 19

  With Willie in the lead and Ray practically glued to Nick’s back, the three men moved through cave three, the damp smell of wet rock filling their noses as they descended toward the sulfur spring below.

  After ten minutes of easy walking, the cave’s ceiling plunged, forcing them to crouch and crab along the tunnel floor.

  “This won’t last long,” Willie said, calling back to the others, reassuring them that they were almost through the narrow section. “She opens back up just ahead.”

  Halfway through the bottleneck, Nick felt his chest tighten and a pocket of fear form in his stomach. With panic rising, he pressed himself against the tunnel wall and motioned for Ray to pass him.

  Ray nodded in gratitude, his helmet light bobbing up and down as he scooted past, grateful to get through the narrow section.

  After Ray was clear, Nick fell on his hands, pulled in a lungful of air, and thought, Not now, not again…not down here.

  Staring out at the narrow passage, he found himself thinking about Charles Bronson and the part he’d played in The Great Escape and the scenes of him digging an escape tunnel. He thought about the part where Bronson confessed to his fellow tunnel king that he hated “little rooms”—his way of saying that he suffered from claustrophobia. And the part where he explained that when he was underground and digging, he was okay, he could hide his fear. But his demons rose when he and his buddy were in the tunnel waiting to get the signal to go. He’d spent months building the tunnel, but sitting down there, waiting, with nothing to occupy his mind, he began to panic.

  That was it, Nick thought. That was the key: don’t think. Stay focused on the task at hand. Stay focused on finding the creature. If he did that, he’d be okay.

  At the far side of the cavern where the bottleneck ended, Ray and Willie stretched their backs. Ray ducked down and called back to Nick, “Hey, you okay?”

  Nick heaved in another breath, rocked onto his feet, and started moving forward. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just an inner ear thing.” A moment later, he popped out next to Ray and Willie, stretched, and felt the panic subside.

  “You good, Doc?” Willie said, staring at Nick, noticing that he looked a little rattled.

  “Yeah, yeah. Just got dizzy for a moment.” Hoping to change the subject, Nick began searching the ground around his feet, hoping for some sign of the creature.

  “You won’t find no tracks in this section of the cave,” Willie said, watching as Nick scanned the path. “It’s solid rock, right down to the spring.”

  Nick looked at Willie and then held his arm out, motioning for him to lead the way.

  They moved through the cave single file with Willie in the lead. Ray was about to tell Willie to slow down, that he was having trouble with his footing, when something flashed in front of him, grazed his cheek, and flapped toward the cave entrance.

  Ray reeled back and swatted the air, almost coming off his feet, then yelled out in fright, “Jesus!”

  Nick and Willie froze and spun ar
ound. Just as they turned, another bat twisted past them, its wings causing a stroboscopic effect as it warped through the beam of Nick’s lamp.

  “Something touched my cheek,” Ray said, checking his face to see if he ‘d been injured.

  Willie tilted his head and said, “Bats.” He pointed upwards, where his light revealed hundreds of bats hanging from the ceiling directly above them.

  “Bats?” Ray stared at them, a look of disgust washing over his face. “No one said anything about bats.”

  “It’s a cave,” Willie said, shaking his head. “Place is full of them.”

  “Take it easy, Ray,” Nick said. “They’re insect eaters.”

  Willie laughed. “Hey, maybe they ate your bug, Doc.”

  Five minutes later, they were picking their way down a steep rock staircase. Willie was the first to reach bottom, and he turned to the others said, “Y’all be careful, now. The next section of tunnel is slippery as snot.”

  Nick climbed off the steep descent, stepped up to Willie, and immediately felt his boot slip. He looked down and saw that the tunnel floor was coated with a thin sheen of water, and just below that, a layer of greenish brown slime—or “snot,” as Willie referred to it.

  Nick scraped off a bit of the slime with the heel of his boot. Willie was right: it looked like snot.

  Moving single file behind Willie, each man being careful with his footing, they began to work their way across the slick, narrow path.

  At the rear, Ray’s progress slowed to a crawl as he swiped at the darkness, warding off imaginary bats. He thought he saw something and swept an arm in front of his face. A moment later, he put his foot wrong, his boot slipped, and he yelled “Shit!” Groping for a handhold, he slipped off the path and fell into a shallow fissure, tumbling fifteen feet down and landing on the bottom with a thud.

  “Ray!” Nick scrambled back, leaned over the fissure, and saw Ray wedged at the bottom. “Ray, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I think so,” Ray said, running a hand over his back. “But I think I bruised my butt pretty good.”