Final Days: Colony

by Jasper T. Scott

  The skin on the back of Andrew’s neck prickled, and he turned to see a six-legged beast looming over him and hissing like a snake. Jagged rows of teeth yawned wide, and Andrew’s finger tensed on the trigger of his M4. All around him, rifles roared and pistols cracked amidst terrified human screams. He was about to add to that chaos when Sergeant Harper appeared, army-crawling beside him.

  “Hold your fire, Corporal!” she snapped, and pushed his rifle down just as one of their own went darting through the shadowy silhouette of the spider looming over Andrew. The creature dissolved in a fleeting swirl of shadows, and a sharp stab of horror lanced through Andrew’s chest. He’d almost shot one of their own.

  “What the hell?” he muttered. “What are they?”

  Sergeant Harper shook her head and looked away. She cupped hands to her mouth and yelled, “Hold your fire! They’re not real! You’re hallucinating!”

  The gunfire rattled on for a few seconds more before the others caught on, and then a ragged silence fell. The parting echoes of gunfire still rang in Andrew’s ears.

  Sergeant Harper pushed off the ground with a grunt and held out a hand to Andrew. He flicked his rifle’s safety back on and took her hand. She hauled him up easily and called out, “Group up and report!”

  “Private Taylor reporting, Sergeant!”

  “Keller here,” Eric said in a low growl.

  “Lieutenant Fox reporting,” a big man with a baby-smooth face said. His shaved head glistened with moisture, and dark caterpillar eyebrows tensed over his brown eyes. Andrew recognized him as one of the guards from the mess hall during the time that Eden was up in space.

  “Murphy here,” another man said.

  “Cox, GTG,” a small woman with curly hair tucked in a ponytail added.

  Harper cast about quickly, doing a headcount with her fingers. Those fingers stopped at six, and she froze. “Where is Edwards?”

  Heads turned in all directions, deferring the question, but no one seemed to have an answer.

  * * *

  Kendra

  Kendra saw the animal sniff the air and pounce quickly. A woman in the group of people fell, and then disappeared in seconds. Crack crack. Someone had found a gun, and was firing into the mist.

  “Be careful! Our people are in there!” Kendra shouted.

  The guard was freaked out, his hand shaky as he aimed his weapon toward the dissipating mist. “I saw him. I saw my stepfather.”

  The rain slowed, the wind ceasing its gusts, changing to a light breeze. The dense mist began to dissipate, almost as if it was seeping into the grass, returning to its home. It was unnerving.

  Kendra continued to scan for Valeria and the others when Tony materialized inside the vapors. She ran to his side, grabbing his arm and spinning him around. “Tony, are you all right?” she asked.

  His expression was grave. “What was that? I saw huge spiders. Dozens of them, coming at me.”

  Kendra tried to piece it together. “Where’s Val?”

  Tony snapped to attention at the girl’s name. “She was here a minute ago.”

  A man’s sharp voice cut in. “She’s gone. Something took her. It bit me!”

  “What do you mean, they took her?” Kendra grabbed the man by the collar, shaking him. “Was it the girl? Was it Valeria?”

  “I didn’t see. I don’t think so. I think it was that shrink… Penelope,” the man said, and Kendra stared at her white knuckles clutching him. She let go, berating her own frantic behavior, and he sat down, looking shaken.

  The mist was no longer there, but the ground was soaking wet. Kendra’s boots sank a few inches into the soft earth as she crouched to the middle-aged man’s seated position. He was clutching a bloody shin, and a hand settled on her shoulder.

  “Let me.” It was Dr. Hartford, and he stooped low, tearing the man’s pants open. There was a lot of blood, but even drenched like that, Kendra made out the two puncture wounds. Canines.

  “They took her,” the man said.

  “Took who?” Hartford asked.

  “Penelope. She’s a psychologist. The damned thing bit me. She gave it a kick, and three of them dragged her away,” he told them.

  “What’s your name?” Kendra asked. He was balding, gray hair dishevelled at the sides of his head.

  “I’m Garth. I’m in commercial property development,” he said.

  Normally Kendra would find someone’s occupation unimportant after an incident like this, but each of these people had been hand-selected by Hound or his team for the purpose of starting a colony. Maybe commercial real estate had merit on their new world.

  “Garth, can you describe them for me?” Kendra asked. She’d seen one too, but only a snout and teeth.

  “Big sons of bitches. Size of a gray wolf from outside my farm in Minnesota.” It made sense now, with his accent.

  There was blood trailing from the camp, and Kendra charged ahead, following it and asking people to make room. It was already compromised, with people stepping on the evidence, most of it washing away in the marshy ground. She wouldn’t be able to track them; not that she was much of a tracker. She guessed there were a few experienced people here that could assist with this task.

  Carrie appeared beside her, Val in tow, and Kendra pulled the girl in, heedless of the pain in her shoulder. “Stay with me,” she told Val, and the girl didn’t argue, just nodded while staring at her with big doe eyes.

  “My dad,” she started.

  Tony interjected. “Your dad is a machine. I’d be more worried about the predators than him.”

  Kendra warmed at Tony’s high praise of Val’s father. The girl brightened at the words.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Carrie asked, glancing at the doctor.

  “Help me carry him to the infirmary, kid,” Hartford told Tony, and the teen bent over, grabbing Garth under his armpits. They hefted the man up.

  “Monsters. They took her,” Garth said. It was clear he was losing a lot of blood; his eyes were glossed over in shock. His leg was leaking rivulets of red, diluting in the rainwater below.

  Kendra told Carrie what had happened with the predators, then the images in the mist.

  “I think they might have been hallucinations,” Kendra said.

  Hartford nodded. “Could be. What did you see?” he asked her.

  Kendra glanced at her sister. “Someone from my past,” she said softly.

  “I saw spiders,” Tony added.

  The blue-uniformed man raised his hand and muttered something about seeing the devil. His stepfather.

  Carrie appeared to consider the facts. “I’d say you’re right. Where’s Beatrice Amsel?”

  Kendra wasn’t familiar with the name, but she quickly learned it was their resident botanist. Carrie spoke into a radio, telling the others to find Beatrice and to bring her to the edge of camp near Eden Three. That section of the ship acted as a buffer for the wind, and people were gathering along the hull, leaning against it, curious about what was going on.

  The woman arrived a few minutes later, escorted by a man with a gun in a holster. She acted startled, but ready to assist.

  “Beatrice?” Carrie asked.

  “Call me Bea,” the woman said. She was over sixty, her strawberry-blonde hair shoulder-length and naturally curling. She squatted to the ground, placing a hand on the damp grass.

  “Bea, it appears as though a mist escaped from the ground and consequently triggered hallucinations. Is that possible?” Kendra asked the woman.

  “Well, let’s consider the situation. It appears the water level is elevated. We’re positioned in a high table, perhaps due to our location slightly downhill from the nearby lake. The rain caused the levels to rise just enough to flash flood. It’s possible this pushed something dormant from the earth. It’s very hard to judge what types of defense mechanisms the flora has on this world.” The woman looked pensive as she considered this.

  “Do you think it's possible for a mist to be exuded by the gra
ss?” Hartford asked.

  She shook her head. “It’s more likely a spore below the surface. Fungi can have intricate underground systems, miles long.”

  Carrie turned to the doctor. “And the hallucinations?”

  Garth’s leg was wrapped tightly with a strip of cloth, but Kendra noted blood seeping through. The doctor was already starting to move away as he spoke. “It would appear the mist affects everyone differently. By the look of it, the visions represent our own distinct horrors. Our nightmares come to life. If you’ll excuse me, we need to treat this man immediately.”

  Tony and the doctor headed off, leaving everyone with more questions.

  It all clicked. “The predators. They know what the mist is doing. They use the cover and distraction to attack their prey!”

  Carrie smiled grimly. “That’s not ideal, but at least we’re aware of their tactics. We won’t be caught off-guard next time.”

  The rain was falling very slowly now, and the water was already receding into the ground, a slow constant absorption. The gunshots from the distance had ceased, and Kendra silently wished Andrew luck.

  Val stayed close, and the girl leaned her head against Kendra as they both watched the hills beyond camp.

  * * *

  Andrew

  “Edwards!” Harper bellowed.

  No reply.

  “Who saw him last?” she demanded, her gaze skipping around.

  Andrew shook his head. He didn’t even know who Edwards was. The mist was thinning now, making it easier to see everyone’s blank expressions as they deferred the question to one another.

  “I had eyes on him before the mist came out,” Private Taylor said, taking a step toward the sergeant. “I lost track after that.”

  “MIA,” Lieutenant Fox muttered, his baby face pinching up in consternation.

  “Or KIA,” Andrew added softly. Harper glared at him, and he winced. “Sorry.”

  She looked away. “Assuming Andrew isn’t right and one of you didn’t shoot Edwards in the head, we might be dealing with an actual threat here. Let’s break into teams of two and search the area. Miller, Keller, you’re with me.”

  “I don’t appreciate being ordered around,” Keller growled as the group split up into pre-arranged pairs. His gaze tracked across their immediate location. Andrew joined him. A cold, gusting breeze sliced through the forest of jutting spear-shaped branches and trunks. The mist parted swiftly, flowing away with the wind to reveal that the dark, soggy ground was clear. Edwards wasn’t lying face-down in the muck, as Andrew had half-expected to find him.

  “Something must have caught him while we were distracted by those hallucinations,” Keller decided. “He’s probably long gone. We should keep moving before whatever it is returns for more.”

  “What if it was you that was missing?” Harper snapped.

  Keller frowned, but said nothing.

  Harper smirked. “That’s what I thought.” Turning away from him, she said, “Look for tracks, blood, or drag marks!”

  A scattering of acknowledgments echoed back.

  “On me,” Harper said, and began trudging through the soggy layers of fallen leaves.

  People were combing the ground uneasily as they went. Andrew kept wary eyes on the trees around them. Thick black muck sloshed around their feet, jiggling like quicksand.

  “We’re not going to find tracks in this,” Andrew said. “Or blood. I hate to say it, but Keller’s right. Edwards is long gone.”

  Harper suddenly stopped and turned to Keller. “Hey, what about the tracking device in his pack?”

  Keller froze, and his eyes widened, having apparently forgotten about the tracking system like everyone else. He unslung his pack and dug through one of the compartments, pulling out a steel-gray tablet with handholds along the sides. He powered it on, and Andrew and Harper crowded around to watch.

  The tablet showed a blank blue grid, with a compass spinning endlessly in the top left. A scale in the bottom right indicated that one grid square was ten square meters. A green triangle denoted their location in the center of the grid, and green dots were scattered all around them. Six dots.

  Keller made a pinching gesture with one hand and the grid zoomed out, with more and more grid squares crowding into view until the lines blurred together and then reappeared at a new scale of 100 square meters per grid square. One of the dots appeared at the edge of the grid, and Keller stopped zooming out. It wasn’t moving, and was six grid squares way. Six hundred meters.

  “How did he get that far in so little time?” Andrew asked.

  “Shut up,” Harper snapped.

  “Hey, I’m not the enemy here.”

  “I said shut up! Listen! Everyone be quiet!”

  They all froze, listening.

  “Sounds like a waterfall,” Private Taylor said.

  “More like a freight train,” Andrew replied. He tried to track the sound, and found himself staring into a blurry black wall. For a moment, he thought it was just the trees blurring together from the distance, but then he noticed that it was churning. Tree trunks vanished by the dozen in the muddy black swirl. Adrenaline surged, and Andrew lunged into motion, screaming, “Run! It’s a flood!”

  NINETEEN

  Roland

  Roland could no longer hear the rush of the storm around him, and he finally emerged from the water treatment facility. It was only large enough to hold tanks and relief valves, along with a handful of people, but his partner, Neve, had elected to stay outside, to enjoy the rain.

  It sounded foolhardy to him. Roland had never liked storms, and now Neve had spent far too much time outdoors as they rained terror from the sky. No more. He was done with it. He propped open the door to the plant, saw it was clearing up, and stepped outside.

  “Neve, are you done playing in the rain? We have to connect the intake valve,” he said, scanning the lake’s edge. “Neve?”

  There was no one nearby. Had she returned to camp and left him here? He was beginning to understand what it was like to have a day job. He didn’t believe in relying on other people, and this was why.

  “Neve!” he called again, his voice carrying in the open space.

  Roland saw footprints in the muck beside the treatment facility, and followed them. “Where did you go?”

  They were in the opposite direction of the camp, and his stomach dropped as the prints formed a circle. They began to increase in distance, meaning she was running. Then they stopped, and there was a wide smudge continuing toward the treeline. He tried to comprehend what this meant, and then he saw the paw prints. They were huge, the size of his own hand. Something had taken Neve. Something big.

  * * *

  Andew

  Andrew ran for his life, but the sucking mud around his boots made it feel like he was in a nightmare, stuck in slow motion. The advancing wall of water and mud roared with deafening fury, trees and branches cracking loudly as it swept the weakest ones away. Everyone was taking giant strides, lunging through the muck to escape.

  Taylor stumbled and fell. Harper surged past him and yanked him up. “Keep moving! Up the slope!”

  They hit the bottom of a steep hill and broke free of the mud. Harper led the charge, screaming, “Move! Move! Move!”

  “Help! I’m stuck!” someone cried.

  Andrew turned from the bottom of the hill to see the other woman in their group besides Sergeant Harper—Cox. She was face-down in the mud, kicking and struggling to get up.

  “My foot is hooked under something!” she cried, spitting out a wad of black gunk as she thrashed to break free. She was panicking.

  Andrew warred with himself for a split second before jumping back down the hill and slogging through the boggy ground to reach her. His gaze darted to the roaring wall of advancing water, trying to judge how many seconds he had before it reached him. Maybe ten. He wasn’t going to make it. Andrew gritted his teeth and pressed harder.

  “Miller!” Harper screamed after him. “There’s no time! Fall
back!”

  Val’s face flashed through Andrew’s head, and before he knew it, he was turning and running up the hill.

  “No!” Cox screamed after him. “Miller! Sergeant!”

  He could barely hear her over the roaring flood. Hot tears stung his eyes, and he shook his head repeatedly as he kicked up the slope to Harper’s outstretched hand.

  “No! Wait!” Cox screamed again.

  Harper pulled Andrew up another few feet, and then a whoosh of cold air gusted by him, and he turned to see a racing black river of sticks, leaves, and sludge where Cox had been a moment ago.

  He stared hard into the churning water—the river Styx if ever there was one.

  Harper grabbed him. “Snap out of it! There was nothing you could have done for her.”

  Andrew gave a shallow nod and swallowed, a burning knot in his throat. Harper’s eyes were a shade darker than usual, and hard as granite. Her gaze skipped past him to the stricken faces of their team. Even Keller looked unnerved. “Let’s keep moving!” she said. “The water level is still rising. Keller, where’s Edwards’ locator beacon now?”

  Keller pointed downstream. “Headed for the lake with Cox.”

  The sergeant muttered a curse under her breath.

  “We’re back to the mission, people!” Keller said, clapping his hands for attention. “Let’s go! We have a lot of ground to cover before nightfall!”

  “For God’s sake, give us a moment!” Lieutenant Fox thundered. His baby-smooth cheeks were flushed, eyes flashing. “We just lost two people!”

  “And we’ll lose plenty more if we start wallowing about it,” Keller replied. “We have to keep moving and stay alert.”

  Andrew nodded, too raw to utter or even think of a reply.

  Sergeant Harper saved him the trouble. “Keller’s right! There’ll be time to grieve later. Right now we have to keep our edge. We’ve already seen what can happen if we lose focus out here.”