Godzilla - the Official Movie Novelization

by Greg Cox

  I can do this, he thought. I have to do this.

  * * *

  The city trembled as Godzilla dropped to one knee, besieged by the MUTOs. The parasites’ combined assault was enough to stagger even the mighty leviathan. The male dived at him from above, gouging Godzilla’s dorsal fins with his claws. Broken shards of fin rained down onto the pulverized streets, adding to the heaped debris, even as the female sprang at Godzilla, slashing at his throat with her talons, which sliced through his scaly armor to the vulnerable flesh below. Blood seeped through the bony plates. The female howled triumphantly.

  Godzilla reeled beneath the joint attack, but did not fall. His maw opened wide and, choking and gasping, he exhaled a gust of rippling, super-heated vapor. A spark ignited at the back of his throat and a searing blast of blue-white fire sprayed from his jaws.

  Taking the full force of the Godzilla’s volcanic breath, the female screeched in agony and collapsed in a heap of twitching arms and legs. Her chitinous exoskeleton was scorched and blackened in places. Ichor leaked from cracks in her shell. Eight limbs vibrated spastically. She wasn’t dead, but she had been hurt and stunned by the blistering incendiary attack. Unable to defend herself, at least for the moment, she was ripe for the kill.

  Godzilla climbed back to his feet, like a mountain thrusting up from the earth, and glared at the downed female. He opened his jaws once more, intending to incinerate her completely, but as his fiery breath flared up the male flew in low overhead and clapped his iridescent black wings together. A luminous pulse rippled through the air and snuffed the bioelectric spark in Godzilla’s throat. The draconic flames belching from his jaws sputtered and died out.

  Godzilla blinked in confusion. Smoke billowed from his nostrils. He tried again to summon his most powerful weapon, but felt only an irritating tickle within his gullet. The spark refused to ignite. The flames would not come.

  Frustrated, he glared at the soaring male, whom had interfered with his kill. He snarled and gnashed his fangs. His tail whipped back and forth in anger.

  The male had done this to him. The male would suffer.

  * * *

  Flashlight bulbs exploded inside the nest, so that only the glow of smoldering wreckage and the strobe-like luminosity of the hanging egg sacs lit up the underground burrow. Startled soldiers swore profanely.

  “Another EMP!” Bennett exclaimed.

  “Bulb just blew,” another EOD specialist blurted. “I’m out.”

  Still trying to get at the bomb’s sealed timer, Ford squinted at the jammed latch, which was stubbornly resisting his efforts to get it open. The dimming light only made his task harder. He could barely see what he was doing.

  “I need more light,” he said.

  In charge of the operation, Quinn made a command decision. “Time for Plan B. Let’s get this thing out of here! Come on, come on!”

  Ford understood the man’s reasoning. If they couldn’t disarm the bomb, then maybe they could still get it out to sea before the warhead detonated. He stepped back and let six burly soldiers hoist the warhead by the handles on each side. Grunting in effort, they toted it back the way they’d come, retracing their path up the rubble-covered slope to the inverted doorway of the topsy-turvy Victorian home. Gathering up his tools, Ford hurried after them, only to pause on the threshold of the buried house. He glanced back over his shoulder at the multitude of pulsing egg sacs encrusting the ceiling. There had to be dozens of the eggs, each capable of hatching yet another MUTO.

  The enormity of the threat was not lost on Ford. Two MUTOs were bad enough, but an entire swarm of them?

  Uh-uh, Ford thought. Not a chance.

  He signaled the other men to go on without him. One way or another, he had to end this.

  * * *

  Godzilla and the male faced off amidst the burning skyscrapers. They eyed each other warily, each seeking an advantage or opening. The MUTO glided between the surviving high-rises, keeping just out of reach of Godzilla’s outstretched forearms and claws. Baring his fangs, Godzilla dared the male to get closer.

  But the standoff gave the female a chance to recover from Godzilla’s fire breath. Singed and smoking, she rose up on her hind legs and lunged at Godzilla. Hatred burned in her crimson eyes. She screeched in rage, out for revenge.

  The male attacked simultaneously.

  * * *

  The upended gasoline tanker was right where Ford had seen it before, partially buried in debris on the floor of the sinkhole. Ford clambered up the exposed underbelly of tanker to reach the pipe valve and hammered at it with the butt of his rifle. He was beyond exhausted, but adrenaline and fear for his family kept him going. A couple of solid whacks bent the valve. Encouraged, Ford pounded it again—and the valve snapped off altogether.

  Fuel gushed from the pipe, the gasoline smell invading Ford’s nose and mouth. The fuel spilled down the belly of the tanker onto the floor of the pit, where numerous small fires still smoldered. The gas washed over the bronze dragon and the other debris, streaming toward the flames.

  Ford wasn’t going to stick around for the fireworks. Leaping down from the tanker, he landed roughly on the loose debris, twisting his ankle. Despite the pain, he sprinted out of the cavern, making tracks for the surface. His boots pounded against the ceiling of the upside-down Victorian.

  This was going to be close.

  * * *

  The MUTOs pressed their attack, ganging up on Godzilla. He staggered backwards down a wide, wrecked boulevard, inflicting yet more damage to the city with every faltering step. His jagged fins scraped against a red granite building, shredding its elegant façade. Gasping for breath, he choked on the swirling smoke and ash and the volatile gases filling his lungs. He tried to burn it all away, but his hot breath caught in his throat, scalding it. Boiling blood and saliva trickled down his gullet.

  The male strafed him from above, clawing at Godzilla’s head and shoulders. A half-dozen talons went for his eyes, and Godzilla barely managed to keep them at bay with his snapping jaws. The female sank her fangs into his neck, holding back his muscular forearms with six arms of her own. Godzilla roared in pain, wanting to fry her to ashes, but could muster only a faint crackle of electricity in his throat, which wasn’t enough to ignite the fire. His tail lashed the air, striking only a historic clock tower, which was knocked off its foundations. The tower crashed into an adjacent building, which collapsed onto the block beyond, the wholesale destruction going unnoticed by any of the battling monsters. Bricks and mortar cascaded down onto the battered streets and sidewalks. Flames burst from ruptured fuel lines.

  Godzilla was losing ground. Cold reptilian blood streamed from deep bites and claw marks in his scaly hide. The frenzied battle reopened the wounds he had sustained from the planes and tanks. Blood loss sapped his indomitable strength. Weakening, he dropped to one knee, crushing a covered bus stop and an ornamental fountain beneath it. His jaws snapped impotently, unable to latch onto either foe. He growled feebly, grimacing in pain, as the male’s claws carved another chunk out of his fins. A beaked jaw pecked at his skull, while the female’s fangs embedded themselves deeper into his throat. Down on one knee, it was all Godzilla could do to keep semi-upright. The MUTOs had him on the defensive.

  He was fighting for his life—and he was losing.

  * * *

  Breathing hard, his heart pounding, Ford had just made it out of the pit when he heard the gasoline-flooded sinkhole burst into flames. A tremendous whoosh of heat and light came rushing up from the underground nest. Ford kept on running, desperate to put plenty of distance between himself and the newborn inferno, but his boot caught on a fallen street sign, slowing his escape.

  Damn it!

  He yanked his boot loose a moment too late. The pit exploded in flames behind him, throwing burning debris in all directions. The force of the explosion flipped Ford and sent him flying away from the blast. An enormous fireball erupted from the butchered heart of Chinatown.

  Thick black smok
e enveloped Ford and everything went dark.

  TWENTY-SIX

  The fireball rose high into the stormy sky. The billowing conflagration was visible all the way down to the ravaged Financial District, where a primeval battle for survival was playing out on a Brobdingnagian scale. The explosion caught the monsters’ attention, interrupting their elemental fight to the death.

  The female started in shock, sensing the danger to her nest. Her limbs drew back spasmodically. Her red eyes rolled in their sockets. Instantly forgetting about Godzilla, she yanked her fangs from his neck and bounded away from him. Landing heavily on the razed street, she scurried away from the fight, heading back uphill toward Chinatown. A keening wail betrayed her distress… and fury.

  Intent on her burning nest, she rushed right past the troops bearing the warhead, ignoring the minuscule soldiers as they hauled the bomb downhill through the Financial District toward the bay. A collective shudder went through the men as the nightmarish arthropod briefly crossed their path, but they did not question their good fortune when she left them alone. Leaving Chinatown behind, they hustled as quickly as they could with their ticking burden, making it another block before a gigantic clawed foot slammed down from the sky directly in front of them. They tilted their heads back in order to take in the awe-inspiring owner of the foot.

  No longer outnumbered, Godzilla rose to his feet and roared ferociously at the sky. Blood poured from deep gashes on his throat, but he was free of the female’s biting jaws at last. He bared his fangs at the flying male, taunting him, and swung his tail back and forth. Scarred fins shed loose chunks of scale and bone. Godzilla raised his clawed fists and waited for his remaining foe.

  The enraged male took the bait. It dived at its enemy, but this time Godzilla was ready for him. Unencumbered by a second foe, he lunged forward and caught the MUTO’s left wing in his jaws. He bit down hard, shredding its hard protective sheath and the veiny membrane beneath. His fangs punched through the scales covering the underside of the wing.

  The male screeched and spat, flapping wildly in a frantic attempt to free his wing. His entire body bucked and twisted, but Godzilla just bit down harder, clenching his jaws to keep his prey from escaping. Broken scales, the size of roof tiles, fell from Godzilla’s jaws onto the rubble below. The wing crunched beneath his fangs. Ichor spurted into his mouth.

  Godzilla tasted victory.

  Desperate and dying, the male tore himself free, leaving a huge segment of wing behind. The shredded segment twitched between Godzilla’s jaws for a moment or two before going limp and lifeless. He spit the chewed-up wing parts onto the street and growled menacingly at the crippled parasite.

  Who was winning now?

  Screeching in agony, the male fluttered erratically above the ruins. Barely able to stay aloft, the MUTO was mortally wounded, but Godzilla wasn’t done with him yet. With the last of his strength, Godzilla charged at the injured creature. Battered and bleeding, he drove the male through a fifty-story skyscraper two blocks away, destroying the building. Thousands of tons of glass and steel and concrete caved in around the monsters, entombing them in a mountain of fresh debris. The male’s dying howl was lost in the deafening roar of the skyscraper’s collapse. A tremendous cloud of smoke and dust rose to hide the destruction.

  The city streets shuddered.

  * * *

  Another tremor, even stronger than before, shook the blacked-out subway station. Dust and debris fell from the ceiling and the subway entrance caved in. Trapped in the dark with dozens of equally panicked strangers, Elle screamed as the impact knocked her off her feet.

  * * *

  Sparks sprayed from the bottom of the damaged warhead as the soldiers dragged down it down an evacuated pier at Fisherman’s Wharf. A tour boat offering “See the bay” cruises was tied up in a slip. Cursive writing on its prow identified the boat as the Angel of the Bay. Commandeering the vessel, the troops lugged the warhead up the gangway.

  Quinn raced ahead of his men to reach the helm. Prying open the ignition panel, he struggled to hot-wire the vessel, while keeping one eye on the bomb and the burning city behind them. The monsters appeared occupied at the moment, but it was only a matter of time before one of the MUTOs started tracking the recovered warhead. Quinn wanted to be well out to sea before that happened.

  He realized that the odds that he and his men would be able to get away from the bomb before it exploded were shrinking by the minute, but he couldn’t think about that now. Their lives would be a small price to pay if they saved San Francisco from going the way of Hiroshima. That would still leave the rampaging monsters to deal with, but someone else was going to have to get that job done. Just keeping the warhead from destroying the city was good enough for him.

  He trusted that every one of his men felt the same.

  The pier rattled and shook. Looking up, Quinn spotted the female charging onto the hilltop where Chinatown had once been. Lieutenant Ford’s work, no doubt. The eight-legged creature was silhouetted against the blazing fire consuming her nest. Quinn smiled grimly. He hoped the murderous monster choked on the fumes.

  So much for your babies, bitch.

  Now they just needed to get the bomb clear of the city. Sweating, he revved the engines, which fired up noisily. The ship’s lights came on.

  All right, Quinn thought. That’s more like it!

  * * *

  An anguished wail roused Ford from unconsciousness. At first he thought maybe it was just the ringing in his ears, left over from the explosion, but then his eyes fluttered open to see the female towering above him, howling over the destruction of her nest. Her charred carapace had seen better days, but she still looked perfectly capable of wiping Ford out with one flick of a claw.

  Like the MUTO, Ford was in bad shape. His flight suit was torn and scorched. Soot caked his face and his hair and eyebrows were singed. Blood seeped from countless cuts and scrapes, some serious. Nothing seemed broken, but his already-battered body felt as though it had been dragged for miles behind a locomotive. His mouth tasted of blood and ash and a couple of his teeth were loose. Every muscle ached and his head was throbbing. The ringing in ears melded with the wail of the angry MUTO.

  Ford held his breath, hoping to escape the monster’s notice. A racking cough threatened to escape his chest, but he clenched his jaws to hold it in. He had survived the female’s attack on the missile train. Maybe he could do so again, or had his luck finally run out?

  The MUTO’s glowing sensors twitched and her huge anvil-shaped head began to swing toward Ford. Sprawled helplessly amidst the rubble of a demolished street, he figured he was a goner. He could only pray that he was buying time for Quinn and the others to get the warhead out of the city. His biggest regret was that he hadn’t managed to reunite his family one last time.

  Goodbye, Elle. I’m sorry I didn’t make it back to you.

  He braced himself for the end, hoping it would be quick at least, but then the female paused and turned her attention downhill instead, where the deck lights of a tour boat could be glimpsed through the smoky haze. Pivoting atop her mammoth limbs, she lumbered downhill toward the waterfront. Ford guessed that she was going after the other soldiers—and the warhead.

  Forgotten by the MUTO, Ford let out a gasp that turned into a violent coughing jag. He spat blood onto the fractured pavement and debris. His head spun and it would have been easy to slip back into unconsciousness, leaving the fight to others, but instead, wincing in pain, he climbed awkwardly to his feet and limped downhill after the monster. Blood soaked through clothes, making them stick to his skin. Bruised ribs ached in protest. He wasn’t sure what he could do in his current condition, especially against a furious three-hundred-foot-tall insect monster, but he knew one thing for sure. The city—and Elle—were still in danger.

  And he had a mission to fulfill.

  * * *

  Crap, Quinn thought. She’s coming for us.

  The pier shook as the female charged down the hill towa
rd the wharf. The warhead landed with a thud on the deck of the tour boat and a soldier raced to unhitch the dock-line binding the vessel to the slip. Quinn’s hand hovered impatiently on the throttle as he watched the monster close in on them.

  Could the female swim? Quinn had no idea, but maybe there was still a chance they could leave the MUTO behind before it reclaimed the warhead. As the line came free, he thought, Let’s get the hell out of here!

  He revved the throttle—and the engine died.

  Quinn cursed and slammed the helm with his fist. A shadow fell over the boat, blocking the light from the fires, and he looked up to see the female looming over the wharf. A pulsing electromagnetic aura emanated from her immense form. The EMP had killed the engines, but not, unfortunately, the warhead counting down on the deck. The soldiers on the boat stared up in horror at the MUTO.

  We’re screwed, Quinn realized.

  * * *

  Despite his injuries, Ford hurried toward the wharf as fast as he could manage. At least it was downhill all the way; in his current state, he wasn’t sure he could manage a steep climb. Gravity was on his side for once, which was about the only advantage he had going for him. He stumbled through the ruins of the Financial District, overwhelmed by the devastation surrounding him, which made the ghost town back in the Q-Zone seem like a vacation spot by comparison. The air was thick with dust and ash, irritating Ford’s eyes and throat. Charred paper from busted-out offices wafted down from above like snow. Lightning streaked the cloudy night sky. Dawn was still hours away. Ford wondered if the city would be around to greet it.

  A loud, rhythmic rasping could be heard over the crackling of the flames and the noisy settling of the collapsed buildings. Puzzled by the unnerving sound, it took Ford a moment to realize that it was the breathing of an enormous beast, coming from far too close at hand. He slowed to stop and looked around. The suffocating cloud of dust began to settle and he squinted through the haze, searching for the source of the labored breathing. His eyes bulged as he spotted Godzilla lying beneath the ruins of a collapsed skyscraper.