by JT Sawyer
Selene looked at the floor then back to the teary eyes of the woman before her.
“At this time, we don’t have a cure. I’m—I’m sorry.” Selene felt like she had been gut-punched, the energy draining out of her body as she looked at the trembling woman. She couldn’t imagine what she was feeling. Selene knew there were no words of hope to relay—not just to this desperate woman but to anyone who had loved ones that had become infected. She felt like running and disappearing in a dark recess somewhere down below. Selene glanced around the room, then her eyes met with Reisner. He was standing at the back near the entrance, his confident gaze making her feel steady again. Selene exhaled and looked around the room, hoping it would clear quickly so she could speak with him, but when she looked up again he was gone.
“That will be all for now,” the admiral said. He nodded to his senior staff at the back. “Ranking officers report to me on the bridge in ten minutes. Everyone else return to your posts. Dismissed.”
Chapter 42
It was 0530 when Reisner felt something poking him in the ribs. He shot upright in his bunk to see Nash prodding him with his fingers.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever seen you sleep through anyone sneakin’ up on ya.”
He blinked several times and then rubbed his hands along his cheeks. Reisner looked down at his watch, then stood up.
“Amazing what four hours of sleep will do for a guy.”
“Just got word from the XO that the Jenga or Jumanji or Jebwe or whatever the fuck name that island is called, checked out. There’s a newer facility there, a boat dock, and even fresh tracks around the beach.”
“So, there’s signs of life then?”
“Nope, nothing I could see from the photos, but we’ve heard that story before. McKenzie wants to talk with you ASAFP, but not sure if it’s about the island or something else—should we be worried?”
Reisner lightly punched Nash in the arm. “I came clean with the admiral earlier. He knows everything and has vowed to keep it to himself for now, agreeing that it won’t help with the morale in the military or with our role in what’s coming next. And for what it’s worth, he had no love for Siegel either, even before all of this.”
Reisner went to the small sink and splashed water on his face, then donned a blue baseball cap with the insignia of the USS Reagan. He stepped into the corridor and moved along the narrow hall, passing by numerous crew members who were heading aft to the mess hall. He stopped when he walked by the open door of Connelly’s room. She was leaning against the back bunk, reading a book, her eyes half-open.
He ducked his head inside. “Sad to see you reduced to reading—we’ll have to locate you a new iPod,” he said with a grin.
She flung the paperback on the bed. “It’s a tedious book called The Secret Life of Cats. By the tone, it could’ve been written by one of the Agency’s shrinks.”
He smirked. “Grab some chow—we may be heading out soon.”
She sprung up from the bunk, both her hands jammed in her front pockets like a teenager. “Should I get something for you too?”
“Nah, I’ll take care of it.”
“Where we off to now?”
He looked over his shoulder at Nash, then back at her, seeing a wall calendar in the distance and realizing it was October 31.
“Monster Island.”
Chapter 43
During his meeting with McKenzie, Reisner pressed him to send a recovery team to Jebwe Island to search for signs of Hayes’ lab. The admiral didn’t take much convincing. He concurred that any data or samples from Hayes’ early research would be instrumental in aiding Selene and Tso in pinpointing an avenue to a possible vaccine, or at least in helping them to understand more about the creatures’ behavior.
An hour later, Reisner met with Ivins and McKenzie in the command center to discuss the mission. Ivins would lead one boat team of his men while Reisner would take his team and three SEALs. Upon arriving at an isolated cove to the northeast, they would then split up, with Ivins taking the high ground and providing cover support while Reisner infiltrated the compound, which consisted of six buildings built around a central court.
“Any signs of movement on the island?” said Reisner.
“Let’s find out.” McKenzie motioned to Kent to pull up the satellite feed as they stood on the bridge.
When the images were revealed, it showed the island teeming with motion. Reisner blinked to make sure the pixilation wasn’t still adjusting on the monitor. There appeared to be close to fifty people bustling around the buildings. As the image enhanced, he could see that these weren’t humans but dozens of creatures moving in a logical progression into the forest.
The other men studied the screen, commenting on the numbers and configuration.
“Must be the staff that Hayes had there along with some locals,” said Reisner.
He looked up and noticed Ivins giving him a discerning look, then glanced over at McKenzie.
“I filled in Lieutenant Ivins on everything that Doctor Hayes was involved with on his mysterious research vessel.”
“If there’s anything you want to tell me about what we’re walking into, now’s the time,” said Ivins, who stood with his arms folded.
Reisner pulled his shoulders back, standing up straighter. “It sounds like you’re already dialed into what we need to know. This place is all new to me.” He wasn’t sure what the scope of Ivins’ understanding of the origin of the bioweapon was. Did McKenzie truly tell him everything, all the way up the line to Siegel’s involvement and the release of the virus over Fujian Province? He redirected his attention to the monitor. “I wonder why they are moving around now when the images from earlier in the afternoon didn’t show any presence?”
“And look at how organized those things are,” said Ivins. “They’re walking with purpose, considering that they’re supposed to be dead.”
“I’d heard chatter about this from several commanders around the world,” said McKenzie.
“But how’s that possible?” said Ivins. “They seemed like mindless creatures on the streets of Taiwan.”
Reisner tapped his fingers on the steel table. “No, there were just too many of them back there to detect a pattern, as you were only there for a short time. Where I was at on the bridge before making it out to the harbor, I can tell you that they were definitely organized into some kind of controlled hierarchy. Here in this picture, it’s much more evident—they’re being led somehow, and my guess would be that there’s another creature nearby that we haven’t seen directing their actions. I saw something similar on the Atropos and then later along the street in Taipei just before I blew the gas tanker.”
The men pulled back and turned to stare at Reisner.
“You make it sound like it’s an ant colony,” said McKenzie.
“Perhaps. I don’t know—that’s Selene’s realm, but she needs to see this. Can you send the footage over to her?”
Reisner didn’t know if the creatures’ behavior was caused by the connection with the mites or the worms or both. But now, he was certain that the enemy they were facing were not some unintelligent corpse simply interested in feeding on humans. They were calculated in the way they acted, at least in some primeval way. He had faced combatants before that were shrewd in their attacks, but he wasn’t sure what they were going up against on the island.
Reisner and Ivins both gave each other knowing glances, aware of what lay ahead.
“Time for a bug hunt, it seems,” said Ivins with a stern face as he removed a pouch of chewing tobacco from his pocket.
Chapter 44
Three hours later, the USS Reagan idled near the western periphery of the Marshall Islands. The plan was to fly two MH-47 Chinook helicopters with Reisner’s and Ivins’ teams within three miles of Jebwe Island and insert them via SOC-R boats. The latter were riverine craft used for inserting and extracting special operations personnel on shoreline environments, and would allow for a surreptitious entry to the small island.
>
Reisner was on the main deck of the carrier outside the Chinooks, stowing his remaining gear in a small pack while the rest of his team were squatting around him doing a weapons check. This time they were outfitted with suppressed ARs in 5.56, while one person on each team had suppressed MK-12s in .308. Their Tavors had previously taken care of the job, but Reisner wanted everyone’s weapon platforms matched up with the SEALs so they could easily interchange magazines and equipment in the field.
Although the noise from the Chinooks prevented anyone from having a conversation, he knew his team’s usual banter was absent for another reason. Most of them were wondering if their loved ones back home were still alive and whether this current mission would yield any new answers. They had already walked into one death trap aboard the Atropos searching for Hayes’ research, and now they were heading right back into the potential for another. At least they knew a little more about their enemy this time. Reisner still couldn’t get his head around the fact that these creatures seemed to have a crude social order. He hoped that there weren’t any more types other than the two they had encountered earlier.
He double-checked the trauma kit and medical supplies in his pack, then zipped up the main compartment. Hoisting it over his shoulder, he turned and saw Selene on the deck above. She was standing next to the XO who, based on his hand motions, must have been explaining the layout of the Chinooks and SOC-R boats. She raised her hand and waved to him. He nodded at her then turned around to face Connelly, who had just stood up and was forcefully cinching the shoulder straps on her pack while glaring over Reisner’s shoulder.
“Everything good?” he shouted above the din of the rotor wash.
“Never better,” she said with a scowl.
He raised his eyebrows then walked towards the Chinook. What’s got her all upset? Ever since Taiwan she’s been hard to read.
A few minutes later, with both helicopters loaded, Ivins gave the thumbs-up and they were airborne over the Pacific. Reisner saw dozens of volcanic islands and coral atolls amidst the blue-green waters of the Pacific. Before this week, it would have made an amazing postcard. Now, he just wanted to blink his eyes and awaken from this nightmare.
***
Forty minutes later, the Chinooks lowered the SOC-R boats with their respective teams into the calm waters a few miles to the west of Jebwe Island. Once the cables were detached, they sped off for a small inlet two miles from the buildings.
Ivins was in the lead boat and as they approached the western edge of the island, he powered down the motor and coasted in towards the shoreline. Ivins was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that they were killing something that seemed like it was from another world. He had fought against Al-Shabab militants in Africa, the Taliban in Afghanistan, and countless terrorist groups in Iraq, but nothing had prepared him for facing the twisted abominations that he had battled in countries around the Pacific since he and his teams began rescue operations four days ago. The only bright spot so far was the arrival of Doctor Munroe. McKenzie was hopeful that she could provide some insights, possibly even a cure given enough time, for the cataclysm that had put a stranglehold on the human race. He’d only spoken with his wife and two daughters briefly as they fled San Diego in the days following the spread of the virus, and he prayed that they were still safe at his uncle’s house in the desert near Joshua Tree. Ivins had lost touch with the other SEAL teams at Coronado and he feared the worst. God, how many operators have we lost this week? How many more in the days ahead?
He was pleased to have someone of Reisner’s skill join their group but was unsure of his connection to this operation. The agent knew an awful lot about the nature of the research on this island, which probably meant it was linked to the CIA. He didn’t like the fact that Reisner seemed to be holding back information, regardless of its classified nature, during the morning briefing with McKenzie, though the admiral didn’t appear to be concerned. Ivins had worked closely with Agency operators before and found them to be real pros, but Reisner’s presence at the biofacility in Taiwan along with the rescue of Munroe followed closely by this operation at what sounded like a CIA black site, made him wonder what the man’s real motivations were.
Chapter 45
After tying off the boats near a tangle of palm trees hugging the beach, the two teams split up, with Ivins taking his to a low ridgeline that skirted the north end of the buildings while Reisner and his team made their way straight in from the west. Reisner’s plan was to create a diversion in the direction of Ivins’ men to drive as many of the creatures away from the facilities as possible. If everything worked out, they would reduce the numbers of the enemy long enough for Reisner to locate Hayes’ lab.
Reisner found a narrow jungle trail and followed it for a half-mile until he reached a junction. He could hear a faint noise emanating from the forest ahead. It was a shrill sound like he heard in Taipei, but this reminded him of a chorus of cicadas on a summer evening. Barely audible was a different, high-pitched sound that seemed to fill the air above.
He crept forward, studying the tracks. There were dozens of barefoot prints in the white sand ahead, while the two trails on either side of the junction were devoid of any signs. Reisner waved his hand to the right, motioning for Connelly, Santos, and Nash to follow while Porter and the three SEALs should proceed down the other trail.
After following the winding path through low shrubs, Reisner and his group arrived at the cusp of a small clearing. They knelt down, then belly-crawled through the foliage until they were at the edge of the jungle. Before them were six buildings spread out in a semi-circle. A quarter of the perimeter had a ten-foot-high timber fence line around it that Reisner didn’t recall seeing on the satellite images. In the center of the area was a twenty-foot-high mound of fresh dirt.
He looked to the right, near a series of water tankers, and saw dozens of creatures gathering near a massive pile of recently cut logs. Ten of the slower-moving creatures were dragging timber from the heap and standing it upright in deep trenches, then angling the jagged posts outward towards the jungle. A second group of workers then began using their feet to scrape dirt into the trenches to secure the timber. Their rubbery skin glistened in the sunlight.
Reisner looked over at Nash and Connelly, who seemed just as puzzled as he was.
“Looks like a defensive barricade they’re building around the compound,” said Nash.
“But why?” said Santos, who was positioned a few feet behind them, watching the rear. “There’s nothing that could pose a threat on this island up until our arrival.”
Reisner reflected on Santos’ last few words. Did they know we were coming? That’d be impossible. Or maybe just that some kind of threat was coming? He shook his head at the thought.
“This has to be something instinctive, like ants do to their hills before a storm. There’s probably a low-pressure system coming in,” he said, trying to reassure himself as much as the others.
Reisner heard his earpiece crackle and got confirmation from Ivins that his team was in position. A few minutes later, Porter radioed in and indicated that there was a partial log wall obstructing the view inside and they were moving further down.
“Maybe we should have brought sugar cubes to lure them out into the open,” said Nash, scanning the buildings with his binoculars. He paused at a square structure on the far right. “Boss, you’re gonna wanna see this,” he said, passing the binoculars over. “The rooftop.”
Reisner zoomed in on the closest corner of the building and saw a tall figure clad in torn jeans. It paced slowly along the edge of the building, emitting the high-pitched sound Reisner had heard earlier above the noise of the others. Unlike many of the other creatures, which hunched forward when they moved, this one stood upright, its sinewy arms waving in the air as if conducting the movements of the slower creatures below. The beast had a smooth head with protruding cheekbones. The skin around its neck seemed to roil with movement.
It reminded Rei
sner of the first set of creatures they encountered on the deck of the Atropos outside the command center. Only this one had an intelligence about its face and demeanor. Where the others below the building resembled mindless gray puppets, this one held itself with confidence.
“Looks like we found the alpha dog—or roach,” Reisner whispered.
“Wonder what happens if we paint his headsauce all over the roof with a 5.56 round?” said Nash.
“You think the other ones will go berserk, being without a leader?” said Connelly.
Reisner passed the binoculars back to Nash. He rubbed his chin, staring at the lone figure atop the building. “I sure wouldn’t mind getting that one back to Doctor Munroe. It could be invaluable in understanding how they communicate with each other.”
“Alive?” said Nash.
“More like dead-alive,” said Connelly.
“Let’s see if we can figure out a way around head-shotting it,” said Reisner. “Even if we have to lop off the head, it still might prove useful.”
Reisner fixed his attention on the workers again after he noticed several of them collapse in the sand. Their skin appeared oily and their eyes barely open, as if they were exhausted. Others gathered around them as if examining their bodies, then abruptly pulled back when the figure on the building emitted a low series of clicks. Immediately, the workers stood up, helping the weaker two, and began forming a single-file line and retreating inside the buildings. Within minutes the entire compound was silent.
Reisner looked up at the sky, which was clear, then glanced down at his watch. He thought back to the first satellite images taken in the afternoon that Kent had provided. They hadn’t shown any signs of movement on the island.
“1100 hours—maybe this is connected with the heat. If that’s the case then they may not be able to cope well during the hotter parts of the day.”
“Then we should give it another hour and drive those fuckers from their dens,” said Nash.