The Invasive_Pulse

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The Invasive_Pulse Page 2

by Michael Hodges


  In the night sky, things screeched and thumped. This only made Robert run harder.

  After tripping over a hammock, Robert spilled out onto Main Street, next to Jenson’s Hardware.

  He hurried across Main Street, then around his apartment complex to the main entrance. He ran up the stairs, the place wreaking of a new paint job that had been half-assed. He unlocked his door on the second story.

  Vermillion greeted him with a lolling tongue and cocked head. God damn Robert was glad to see the pooch.

  “Good boy,” Robert said.

  Robert clipped a leash to his collar, then went into the hallway and locked the door.

  “We’re going for a ride,” he said.

  Vermillion wagged his tail.

  Man and dog hopped into Robert’s Ford F-150, and pulled out onto Jasper Avenue. Tara lived several miles west towards the national forest and the Apex Mountains. She worked as a bartender at a cabin resort. Part of the gig was her own personal small cabin, which was kinda cool.

  Robert checked the sky repeatedly as he drove, eliciting a whimper from Vermillion, who watched his every move.

  A tinge of guilt numbed his chest.

  “There’s something bad out there, boy,” Robert said while patting the pooch on the head.

  Vermillion whimpered and put his paws on the dashboard to look.

  “It’s big,” Robert said. “Real big.”

  The F-150’s headlights lit up Jasper Avenue, which soon twisted into Forest Road 112. The pavement ended, and the truck lurched as it battled washboard road.

  After a few minutes, Robert turned right, and entered Cedar Resort. The resort consisted of a main lodge with neatly manicured lawn, a dining area, and a bar. Behind it sprawled forty or so cabins, each varying in size and posh-level. Tara’s was at the back, and one of the smallest.

  Robert pulled up to her one room cabin, then killed the engine.

  “Come on boy,” he said to Vermillion.

  They followed a white gravel path that led to the dark-stained cabin. Robert knocked twice on the brass knocker.

  A moment later Tara opened the door, looking a bit sheepish and wrapped in a white robe.

  Under different circumstances Robert would’ve felt more awkward, but this was no time for emotion. Something bad was in the air. Real bad. He’d felt something similar a long, long time ago, when the cops had taken away a man from a neighboring apartment building in Minneapolis. Later, Robert had found out the man had killed three people, and tried dispensing of their bodies in acid baths in his basement.

  “Robert,” Tara said. “Kinda weird.”

  Robert nodded. “Yeah, agreed.”

  Tara gave Vermillion a good pat on the head. The pooch looked up at her and wagged his tail, tongue lolling.

  “Can I offer you anything?” Tara asked. “A glass of water, or a beer?”

  “I’m good,” Robert said. “But you’re going to think I’m crazy real soon here.”

  Tara stepped into the bathroom for a moment, and emerged wearing a pair of jeans and a white tank top.

  “Try me,” she said, taking a sip of a beer she’d just cracked open.

  Robert paused and considered his words. He realized what he was about to say might actually end his budding relationship with Tara. But he forged ahead anyway. “I saw a monster,” he said.

  Tara’s nervous expression morphed into a huge grin, and then laughter. She held her fingers to her mouth to cover it up, but the mocking smile was there nonetheless.

  “Come on,” she said. “If you wanted to hang out, all you have to do is let me know. You don’t need a crazy story.”

  Robert stepped towards her. “I’m serious,” he said. “Look in my eyes and tell me I’m pulling your leg.”

  Tara did, and her grin slowly faded to a frown.

  “It was huge,” Robert said. “Bigger than anything I’ve ever seen. It had wings, too. It perched on top of the courthouse, and flew off with Officer Raymond.”

  Tara set her beer down on a wooden table. “Stop fucking with me, Robert. I’m serious. Have you been drinking?”

  “No,” Robert said.

  Vermillion trotted over to Tara and nuzzled her ankle.

  “This whole night has been weird,” Tara said. “I’m feeling a bit sleepy.”

  Tara headed towards the door, and opened it. The cool summer night washed over them.

  “Come on Vermillion,” Robert said. “Drop the hairbrush, boy.”

  Vermillion dropped Tara’s hairbrush and followed Robert out the door.

  “I’m sorry,” Tara said. “But we’ve only had a few dates, and this…this is just weird. And it’s late.”

  “I understand,” Robert said.

  “Goodnight.”

  Robert turned to his truck, just as Vermillion started barking in an aggressive way.

  “What is it boy?” Robert asked.

  Vermillion ceased barking, and let loose a low, sustained growl.

  A tingling sensation tweaked Robert’s jaw. And his upper lip began to tick upwards to his eye, as his eye ticked up to the corner of his forehead.

  He went to speak, but only gibberish emerged from his lips. He was able to turn, however, just in time to see Tara writhing on her welcome mat.

  What the hell is going on, Robert thought. He tumbled to the ground and began to spasm.

  As he writhed there, Vermillion whimpered next to him.

  A pair of forms emerged from the semi-lit array of cabins. Robert had never seen anything like them. They had long tails, like a slug tipped with keratin, with mouth lines that cut in too far, suggesting a smile like a dolphin. But these creatures were not smiling at all. As they approached, Robert noticed his convulsions worsening. They were doing it - the things creeping closer to him. It must’ve been a frequency of some kind, because they sure weren’t touching him. Yet.

  Behind him, Tara made awful grunting sounds as her feet kicked against the log cabin wall.

  Resort guests and workers flicked on their cabin lights as the commotion amplified.

  Before one of the things could get its weird mouth on him, a gunshot shattered the night. Then another.

  It sounded like a shotgun to Robert. For a second the creature’s head had been there, poised to bite into him, and then it was gone in a fine spray of mist and brain particles.

  His seizure stopped immediately.

  A man stood over him. A tall man, carrying a sawed-off shotgun, the barrel smoking. The man offered his hand.

  “Get up, partner,” the man said as the ringing in Robert’s ears faded.

  By now a half dozen resort guests had approached Tara’s cabin. One of her friends, Lindsey, helped Tara up as Vermillion nuzzled her.

  The crowd, half-dressed and gasping for answers, gathered around the man with the shotgun, and the dead creatures.

  “Folks,” the man said. “My name is Colbrick. I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you all tonight, but unfortunately that’s not the case. We’ve got ourselves an invasive species. But it ain’t just one. There’s a whole bunch, all different kinds. Go back into your cabins and hole up.”

  The crowd, mostly drunk and stoned younger people stared at the creatures in disbelief.

  “What…what are those things?” a young man said.

  “Don’t know,” Colbrick said. “They hit you with a frequency that makes you convulse.”

  Robert shook off the last of the effects, and stepped forward. “I can vouch for that. Real bad seizures.”

  Overhead, Robert heard the whooshing of large wings, and looked up to see several pairs of green eyes.

  “Get back in your cabins,” Colbrick said to the crowd. “I ain’t joking. Go.”

  The crowd hurried back inside, to various shouts of “what’s going on?” and “what the fuck is that in the sky?” and “call the god damn police, now!”

  Robert nudged Tara and Vermillion back into her cabin.

  One of the flying things streaked down from the bla
ck summer night, towards Colbrick.

  CALL THE GOD DAMN POLICE NOW! it echoed back in a woman’s voice. CALL THE GOD DAMN POLICE NOW!

  Colbrick ran off between a pair of cabins and disappeared, just as the enormous bird skidded onto the gravel lot.

  Robert never saw Colbrick again.

  Then he shut the door hard enough to knock a painting of the Apex Mountains off the wall.

  Tara screamed and paced the room with both hands clasped to her head. Robert watched as she searched for something, anything, to say that made sense.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to Robert. “I was such a bitch. I should’ve believed you. You’ve been nothing but kind.”

  Robert shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize at all, Tara. I know how it looked.”

  A window broke in the next cabin. A woman screamed. Robert went to open the door, but Tara held him back.

  “Don’t,” she said.

  Vermillion growled at the front door.

  Something big hit the side of the cabin, knocking a few potted plants loose that had been Tara’s pride.

  She screamed again.

  Robert opened the door, in time to see one of the gigantic fliers hoist itself into the air with a woman impaled on its beak. It’s right wing lacerated Robert’s pickup truck, spidering the windshield glass.

  A moment later, the flier was gone.

  “Shut the door,” Tara said.

  Robert did.

  Then he flipped open his cell phone and dialed 911. No one answered. And the phone had made bizarre, sweeping frequency tones.

  Luckily, Tara’s cabin was equipped with a land line, and Tara was already on it.

  She frowned, and let the hand set slip down her jawline. “It’s dead,” she said.

  Outside, another scream. This time a man. He was screaming things about God, about his mother.

  Robert almost put his hands to his ears.

  “Don’t listen,” Robert said.

  “I can’t help it,” Tara said.

  Vermillion growled at the door, his ears perked forward.

  “Sorry boy,” Robert said. “We’re not going out there.”

  Vermillion hurried back to the couch, then jumped up and sat obediently.

  Another scream came from deeper in the resort.

  “Do you have a gun?” Robert asked Tara.

  “No,” she said. “But I have bear spray. We use it for our hikes.”

  “Great,” Robert said.

  Tara opened a utility closet, and came back with two Montana Forest Ranger-approved cans of Ursis Blast.

  “The good stuff,” Robert said.

  He took a can and left the other with Tara. “We’re going to need to find a way out of here,” he said. “My truck is parked right out front. The windshield is messed up, but it won’t be a problem.”

  “Okay,” Tara said. “Are you sure we can make it to your truck?”

  “Yes,” Robert said. “The police are probably inundated with calls. They aren’t going to be much help right now. We need to be our own police. You cool with that?”

  Tara nodded. “I’m cool with whatever keeps us alive.”

  Robert headed towards a window, then brushed the curtain aside. “Front yard looks clear,” he said. “My truck is right there.”

  Another woman screamed in the night. This time Robert opened the door and followed the screams. A pack of upright sloth-looking creatures, with a single, long claw on each arm dragged the woman into the dark forest. Robert started to follow, but felt something tug at him.

  Tara.

  “She’s gone,” Tara said. “And we need to get out of here.”

  Vermillion was having none of it. The pooch bounded into the pine trees, barking as ferociously as he could.

  Robert tore after him. You crazy freaking dog, he thought. You’re going to get yourself killed.

  Upon entering the forest, the world grew much darker. Forty yards into the trees, the group of sloth-like animals stared back at him, their eyes containing triplicate pupils, and of the same intense green as the fliers he’d seen earlier.

  The taken woman fell silent.

  Vermillion bounded into the middle of the creatures, slashing and tearing at their ankles. Robert followed, and hit the entire group with a shot of Ursine-Blast.

  The creatures mewled and raged, swatting one another in their blindness. One of the creatures impaled another with its long claw.

  Robert covered his mouth with his shirt collar to avoid the toxic mist, and grabbed the unconscious woman by her hand. Then he dragged her back to the semi-illuminated cabin area. Vermillion followed, skirting past them and barking at Tara.

  “What is it boy?” Tara asked.

  Tara turned to see what Vermillion was barking at, and screamed.

  Three spider-like creatures approached from the dark forest, although these were much bigger than spiders, and contained one bulbous eye atop their pancake midsections.

  “Go,” Robert said. “Get in the truck.”

  Tara and Vermillion beat the spiders to the truck, just as Robert jumped in. He slammed his door with more force than he could ever remember. A second later, the spiders furiously scraped their claws on the metal siding.

  “Jesus go go go,” Tara said.

  Finally the truck started. Robert slammed into reverse, spinning the wheels and slamming into a sedan behind him. As he steered his way out of the parking areas, several other resort guests piled into their cars and veered towards the exit road. Within seconds they were stuck in the rear of a five car traffic jam.

  “Jesus,” Tara said as she let loose on the lead car. “Could you drive any fucking slower woman! Honk your horn, Robert.”

  Robert didn’t. Instead, he watched as something enormous stormed from the trees near the entrance gate. At first it looked like an elephant, but in place of a trunk was a long, almost sperm whale-like jaw. And the teeth-numerous and outlandish in size. The thing shifted in and out of light cones on the resort lawn, then pummeled the lead car.

  “Oh my God,” Tara said. “What the fuck is happening?”

  The driver in the lead car finally hit the gas, but the car was on two wheels. She hammered the gas again and veered wildly into a totem pole, flipping the car in a blur of broken glass and blinking taillights.

  “Fuck,” Tara said. “Hit it!”

  Robert floored the gas and spun a hard right through the resort lawn, busting through perfectly manicured hedgerows, and then spinning out onto the road.

  Vermillion flew across the cab and slammed into the passenger door.

  “Sorry boy,” Robert said.

  Robert fought off a moment of guilt for cutting off the cars, and then realized it was pointless. His priorities had taken on a whole new meaning this evening.

  He checked the rearview as the F-150 bounced hard on the forest road. The train of cars was behind him now, their headlights erratic from the washboard. Strangely, something passed behind the truck and the first car, blocking the headlights.

  A horn honked in the night.

  Robert wondered why it sounded exactly like his F-150 horn.

  More enormous things partially blocked the car headlights behind him, and he thought he caught a glimpse of a long, unfolded wing. Robert slammed on the brakes.

  People screamed as the flier plucked them through the windshield by their heads, all the while bleating back the mimicry of his F-150 horn.

  Everything Robert Jenkins had ever been, down to his pinky toenail wanted to turn around and help the people. And he knew Tara was feeling it too. But the sound of those screams told him everything he needed to know.

  He would die.

  Tara would die.

  More fliers landed in the road, roaring back the F-150 horn and blocking safe passage for the unlucky cars behind him.

  Robert hit the gas, as Vermillion growled out the back window and tried to balance himself.

  A hundred thoughts shuffled through Robert’s mind as he tried
to calm his beating heart. Questions like, what are these things? And how in the hell do we get away from them?

  One thing was clear: these were not native species. Far, far from it. He’d had some biology during his two year stint in college, and had a solid grasp of the local flora and fauna thanks to his enthusiasm for hiking.

  These animals were brand new. Ferociously new.

  Ahead of them, barely catching in the truck headlights scurried a marsupial-like creature the size of a possum. At first Robert was relieved at its lack of size and neutral nature. But a small square tag attached to its neck blinked red.

  Tara stared at the thing, a mix of emotions contorting her face. “Hey,” she said. “This one looks friendly.”

  The creature stood up on hind legs and sniffed the air, its flashing red tag blinking at twenty beats per minute.

  “Super weird,” Tara said.

  “Understatement of the year,” Robert said. “It looks like a timer of sorts.”

  “One of the fliers had one on its neck too,” Tara said. “Like these aren’t just wild animals. Like they’re someone’s pets.”

  A flare of anxiety hit Robert as he rubbed the back of his hand on his lips. Tara was right, of course. And that made this whole thing even more fucked up than it already was. The thought that these things might belong to a more intelligent life form was an eerie, depressing thought. As if the creatures themselves weren’t bad enough.

  Robert hit the gas and steered the truck along the bouncing forest road. Behind him, in the dim glow of taillights, red lights blinked in random locations.

  The creatures must’ve been waiting on the roadside-waiting for his truck to pass.

  Dozens of them.

  When Robert returned his gaze back to what lay ahead, a blurry mass broke through tree line and up the embankment. Robert tried to swerve, but the creature impacted Tara’s side of the truck. Vermillion’s hips smashed into Robert’s face, and the dog flew out his window into the trees. Tara screamed. The passenger window shattered and the truck thrusted up onto two wheels.

  “Hold on,” Robert said.

  A disorienting moment of lurching metal, whining V8 engine, and crunching glass distorted Robert’s perception. He found himself upside down, staring at bits of glass that peppered the cab roof. Robert heard a click, and Tara collapsed onto her head, then inadvertently kicked him in the face.

 

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