Island 731

by Jeremy Robinson

  Mixed with the thunderous chop of rotor blades, Hawkins heard the high-pitched whine of the minigun beginning to spin. In a few seconds, it would unleash a stream of high-velocity rounds that could shred metal, concrete, and humans with equal ease.

  But before the helicopter gunner could pull the trigger, a horn blast louder than everything shook the earth and sky. The Apache spun, though not out of control. It was simply acquiring a new target. A hellfire missile tore from the helicopter’s wing with a loud shhh, followed by an enormous explosion that plumed smoke into the sky and silenced the horn.

  They must know what the sound triggers, Hawkins thought, though he knew it was too late. Every living thing on the island would have heard the sound.

  Then the chaos really began.

  Two more Blackhawks arrived. Ropes dropped from the sides. Soldiers descended like waves of army ants.

  Kaiju tore into the soldiers still clinging to the ropes of the first chopper as it righted itself over the clearing again. But this time, it clung to the cables. The sudden weight pulled the Blackhawk down and the pilot lost control.

  Bullets began to fly as soldiers officially got boots on the ground.

  Hawkins, Drake, and Joliet ducked for cover, huddling by the gallery wall.

  Bennett made a beeline for the cover of the jungle, heading south. Through the chaos, Hawkins could feel a repetitive pulsing in his ears. Every conditioned chimera on the island would be in a frenzy.

  There was a roar of pain as several rounds struck the monster. It let go of the drop lines and fell to the ground. But it was too late for the chopper. The Blackhawk spun out of control, falling sideways to the ground. It crashed in the jungle. There was no explosion, but the rotor blades snapped free. One of the flung blades flew from the jungle, cleanly severing a palm tree trunk and one of the soldiers at the waist.

  More gunfire erupted and Hawkins thought Kaiju was done for. But then—

  “Hawkins!” The voice was closer to a shriek. Blok. He was running fast, as though charging the soldiers, but only because what followed at his heels was far more frightening.

  Twelve oversize black spiders with turtle shells and prehensile tails scrambled up the path.

  The soldiers’ attention became divided between Kaiju and the spiders. Guns roared all around. Hawkins saw a red laser dot appear on Blok’s chest. He found the source just ten feet away. A soldier looked down the sights of his weapon, finger on the trigger.

  They’re here to kill everything and everyone, Hawkins remembered. “No!” he shouted and charged out of his hiding spot.

  Hawkins grabbed the assault rifle under the barrel as the soldier pulled the trigger. He felt a three-round burst shake his arm as he yanked the weapon toward the sky. The soldier spun in surprise, pulling the weapon from Hawkins’s hand, but not in time to stop Hawkins from landing a punch on the side of the man’s head, which was unfortunately protected by a helmet. Luckily, the soldier was stunned enough for Hawkins to land two jabs to the man’s face.

  It was a good start, but the soldier was a pro. He spun the assault rifle, wrapping its shoulder strap around Hawkins’s extending arm. With a yank, the trained killer pulled Hawkins in close and delivered a kick to the chest, right over Hawkins’s five long wounds. The pain crippled Hawkins, dropping him to his knees. The man drew a long blade, and raised it over his head. As the knife descended, aimed for Hawkins’s face, a hand reached around from behind the soldier, clasped the knife-wielding hand, and redirected the blade into the soldier’s own gut.

  The soldier doubled over, revealing Drake. Joliet stepped past him, reached down, and yanked Hawkins to his feet. “It’s time to go, Mark!”

  Hawkins turned to where Blok had been. He saw the man on the ground. Part of his head was missing. A spider leapt upon his back, jabbed him three times with its stinger, and then charged a soldier. Some of the giant spider chimeras had been mowed down by the gunfire, but their speed made them hard targets and their shells protected them from most of the rounds. As a result, five of the soldiers already lay on the ground, twitching from the inside with rapidly growing young. There would soon be many more creatures to deal with.

  But the soldiers kept arriving, as well, and several of them who’d witnessed Drake and Joliet save Hawkins now turned their attention to the human threat.

  Once again, the action was interrupted by the arrival of a new force. Their arrival was forecast by a resonating rumble and shaking ground. The stampeding herd of cattle arrived like a flood, surging through the line of soldiers like they were nothing more than dead trees.

  The Apache helicopter finally opened fire as the men were trampled. Gouts of blood exploded into the air, merging with the wails of slain cattle.

  Spiders leapt through the air, stinging soldier and cow indiscriminately.

  The giant bull arrived, fresh tentacle wounds on its back and sides, bucking its head and horns wildly, sending men and spiders flying.

  Here was Bray’s chaos.

  No one would see them flee into the jungle.

  Hawkins turned with Joliet and fled toward the trees where Drake, and now Bray, waited for them. As they slipped into the jungle, leaving the battle behind, Hawkins took one last look back and quickly noticed something that filled him with dread. Amid the raging cattle, stinging spiders, and gun-blazing soldiers, there was no sign of Kaiju.

  The monster had fled, no doubt following after Bennett.

  Who’d headed south.

  South.

  To the boat.

  48.

  Nothing stirred in the jungle south of the gallery. Hawkins wasn’t sure if it was the bell Bray continuously rang that kept the draco-snakes at bay or that they’d been summoned by Bennett. But the jungle was clear and allowed them to move quickly, first at a sprint, then a jog, and now a fast walk as exhaustion set in. Hawkins guessed it was two miles to the south shore. Had he been well rested and not beaten, he might have run the entire distance, but in his current condition, even their current pace was a struggle. Every part of his body hurt, his chest and lungs most of all. But he pushed past the pain, for Joliet, for Bray, for Drake. They’d come too far and survived too much to give in to something like fatigue.

  They moved in a tight group. Drake led the way, armed with a single butcher knife, which he used to hack away the occasional vine or branch obstructing their path. Hawkins and Joliet followed close together, and Bray brought up the rear, ringing his bell.

  The sounds of the battle weren’t exactly far behind them—perhaps a quarter mile—but were so muffled by foliage that the soldiers’ gunfire sounded like distant fireworks. It was as much of a reprieve as they were going to get.

  “What happened to you?” Hawkins asked Drake.

  “Not entirely sure.” He motioned to the blood staining his clothes. “Woke up like this. I have a few fragmented memories. Like dreams. I’m pretty sure I was delusional. Wandering the jungle. Must have come across something that set me off. Could’ve been one of those dracos. Hell, could have been a goat. Or a cow.” He shrugged. “I woke up a few hours ago. Found my way to the farm. Helped myself to some food. Just started to feel a little bit more like myself when Bray shows up, gives me the short and nasty version of what happened to you all, and here we are.”

  “You’re still feverish, aren’t you?” Joliet said.

  “Feel like shit,” Drake confirmed. His body shivered in response to the acknowledgment. “But I think I got off easy compared to you. A lot easier than most of the people under my command.”

  They walked in silence for a moment, the loss of their crewmembers weighing heavily.

  “How did they die?” Drake asked.

  No one wanted to answer that question. Drake had seen what happened to Blok. The shot he took to the head, while horrible, was quick and more painless a death than the others. “I don’t think—”

  Drake chopped at a low-hanging branch and yanked it away. He paused and looked back at Hawkins. “How did they die?�
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  “Not well,” Hawkins said. “We don’t have time for this.”

  “Ranger, I need to know.”

  Hawkins was more concerned about how Drake would react than the few moments it would take to relate the details. The captain was still feverish, and if he pushed too hard, he could relapse into another delusional state, which could be a bad thing, given the blood covering his body and the butcher knife in his hand.

  Bray had no such concerns. “Bennett stabbed Kam in the chest. DeWinter and Jones were incubators for the BFSs—the spiders. They died when the things came out. Jim and Ray were both experimented on. Ray died on the operating table. Jim became … a monster. Tried to kill us. Hawkins…”

  Drake glared at Bray. “Hawkins what?”

  Bray looked uncomfortable. It was a point Hawkins wanted to avoid, too. For now, at least.

  Drake turned to Hawkins. “You what?”

  Hawkins sighed. Time really was becoming an issue now. “I killed him. Quickly.”

  Drake just stared at him for a moment and then said, “Then we’re not leaving anyone behind?”

  “No, sir,” Hawkins said.

  Drake gave a nod. “Couldn’t have been easy, doing what you did. Thank you.” Then he was off and moving again.

  They covered the next mile of mostly level jungle without incident or conversation. Gunfire and screams occasionally filtered through the trees, but never nearby. They paused at the base of a hill. Hawkins looked up. The rise was steep and covered with outcrops of black, volcanic rock that would have to be scaled, but it wasn’t impassable. What he didn’t like was that the rough terrain held fewer trees. He could hear helicopters circling the island. If they were spotted on the hillside, they’d make an easy target for a minigun. An even easier target for a hellfire missile. But if they made it to the top, they’d be close to their goal.

  “Catch your breath for a minute,” he said. “We’re going to have to do this quick.”

  Bray stretched and winced. “Are we almost there? God, I sound like one of my students.”

  Hawkins closed his eyes and pictured the island as he’d seen it from the top of the pillbox. They were approaching the south shore between the western shore and the lagoon. He remembered the hill. Once they reached the top, it would be a straight, downhill slope all the way to the shoreline and, hopefully, salvation. “Half mile more, tops.”

  “What about the kids?” Bray asked. “I haven’t seen anyone.”

  “Kids?” Drake asked.

  Joliet looked mortified. “There are children on this island?”

  Hawkins realized he hadn’t explained Kam’s involvement or his request to save the litter to Joliet or Drake. “I’m going to give you the short version for now,” he said, and then broke down the story into bite-size, nearly impossible to believe morsels.

  When he was done, Drake looked wounded. “Bennett and Kam?” He shook his head.

  “If it helps,” Hawkins said, “Kam’s involvement seems mostly forced. He was trying to protect his family.”

  “And now that includes these children?” Drake asked. “His brothers and sisters?”

  “I still think it’s a bad idea,” Bray said. “They’re chimeras, just like the others on this island. They could be dangerous.”

  “I’m inclined to agree,” Drake said.

  “But what if he was telling the truth?” Joliet asked. “What if they’re more human than animal and they’re just children who had nothing to do with the horrible things done on this island? We can’t just leave them.”

  Hawkins looked up the tall hill. His energy had yet to return, but he didn’t think waiting any longer would be wise. Who was to say the mercenaries wouldn’t decide to cut their losses, evacuate the island, and carpet bomb the place? “Here’s how we’re going to do it. Once we get to the top of this hill, we’re hauling ass all the way to the coast.”

  Joliet raised a hand in objection. “But—”

  “Kam didn’t give us any instruction on how to find the children. Searching for them could—well, we all know how that could turn out. He said they would find us. If they don’t, they don’t. If they do, we’ll revaluate when the time comes. Now, move your asses.”

  Hawkins led the ascent. While the going was slow, the many ridges and crags made the climb easy. Halfway up, Hawkins paused to look at a fern atop a ledge. The leaves were tangled oddly. Ten feet farther up, he found a leaf pushed into the damp soil. Toward the top of the rise, he took hold of a vine and gave it a yank, testing its strength. It would hold if they climbed one at a time. But that’s not all he learned—halfway up, the brown vine held a five-inch-long darker splotch of color.

  “What is it?” Joliet asked. “I haven’t figured out what you’re looking at yet, but I know you found something.”

  They stood on a five-foot outcrop of stone, just ten feet from the top of the hill. The vine rose up over a moss-covered stone, which now held Hawkins’s attention. The moss had been indented in several spots. “Bennett came this way. He’s heading for the boat. He’s going to beat us to it.”

  “Then let’s go!” Bray said.

  “But that’s not all.” Hawkins pointed to a tree that grew out over a twenty-foot drop. “Halfway up the trunk.” He’d spotted the grooves in the bark just before he saw the blood. The lighter color of the tree’s exposed flesh made it easy to spot. “Kaiju is with him.”

  Drake took hold of the vine. “Don’t see as we have any choice.”

  Hawkins nodded and, one by one, they climbed the vine. The first thing Hawkins noticed at the top of the hill was the noise. The hill had acted as a natural barrier, blocking the cacophony of sound from reaching them. But here, just feet from the crest, he could hear the sharp report of automatic gunfire, the shrieks of draco-snakes, the cries of seagulls, the screams of men, and the monotonous whup of helicopter blades. Lots of them.

  Lying on their stomachs, they climbed to the peak and looked over the edge. The battle for Island 731 had followed Bennett and was being fought below. The trees beyond the hill were sparse, as much of the land was either volcanic stone or covered in slabs of concrete that had once been helicopter landing pads, a use for which they were being used once again. Three helicopters had touched down. Two had unloaded their payload of eleven fully armed mercenary squads already and were lifting off. A third unloaded just four men whose gear looked bulky. When streams of fire burst from their weapons, Hawkins knew why. Flamethrowers seemed morbidly appropriate, given how much they’d been used in clearing Japanese bunkers during World War II. Only now they were being used to fend off the armies of draco-snakes and seagulls closing in on the soldiers like a living hurricane. To the left of the battle, Hawkins saw what looked like a concrete airplane hangar emerging from the base of a hillside.

  The bunker, he thought. This is where the children live.

  And then he saw them. Five little bodies standing before a giant and its master. Bennett was no doubt confused by their existence and he wasn’t sure if Kaiju would recognize them or not. Kam thought she might very well kill them.

  Hawkins looked past the chaos. The jungle grew thick again, perhaps one hundred yards from beginning to end. Beyond that, he saw the coast. Their only means of escape lay on the other side of a battlefield.

  “I think we should skirt around behind the bunker,” Hawkins said. It was the slowest, but safest route. If their enemies occupied each other long enough, they might make it past. Of course, there were still the children to consider, but they would handle that debate when they got closer.

  “Sounds good to me,” Bray said.

  Hawkins didn’t hear Joliet or Drake agree with the plan. His sensitive ears had picked up a new noise. Mixed with the din of battle, it didn’t sound like much. The problem was that it came from behind. He took a few steps back and looked over the steep rise they’d just climbed. At first glance, everything looked fine. Then he noticed that the dark soil of the jungle below wasn’t soil at all. The ground was alive.<
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  The spiders had multiplied, using men and cattle to spawn more young.

  Hundreds of them.

  Hawkins backed away from the edge as the first of the spiders began scrambling up the hillside. “Change of plans.” The others peeked over the edge and saw the advancing army of killer chimeras.

  “Run,” Hawkins said. “Straight through. Run.”

  49.

  At first, the plan worked great. Preoccupied by the deadly swarms, the soldiers paid them no attention, and Bray’s bell kept the chimeras from targeting their small group. But the flamethrowers were turning the tide against the airborne monsters and for every man that fell to a draco-snake bite, five of the small creatures were either cut down by the constant 9mm bullet spray or were set on fire. It was the former that slowed their progress.

  “Ahh!” Bray shouted. He kept running, but now limped.

  Hawkins slowed to help him. “You’re hit?”

  “In the calf,” Bray said, wincing with every step. “But I can still move.”

  As more and more chimeras poured from the jungle to their left, the soldiers to their right advanced. And while the bell still worked its magic, the mercenaries would soon notice their chaotic charge through the clearing. And when that happened, it wouldn’t be stray bullets coming their way, it would be a barrage. There was no choice but to head for Kaiju, Bennett, and the children.

  Hawkins veered left toward the bunker. A palm tree to his right took a round. He glanced back at the baseball-size indentation in the bark. If the tree hadn’t been there, it would have struck his head. He glanced toward the soldiers and saw two of them tracking their dash. “Duck!”

  Hawkins obeyed his own command just as a three-round burst rang out and zinged over his head. He angled farther left, putting more trees and distance between them and the soldiers. More bullets shattered the trees around them as the two soldiers switched to full automatic and held down the triggers. Hawkins covered his head with his hands as he crouch-ran. He glanced up for just a moment and saw movement ahead, but he didn’t slow. Couldn’t. He just kept his head down and did his best not to collide with a palm trunk.