by Greig Beck
“No fucking time for this.” Drake shouldered his Barrett M82 rifle. He’d already switched chambers to the high-explosive Raufoss rounds. They were well beyond worrying about noise now, and he pointed the barrel at the approaching pack and fired again and again.
Bodies literally exploded in orange and red bursts that were a mix of blood, bone, and incendiary pyrotechnics.
Some of the creatures were packed in so tight to each other, that as one was hit, the ones beside it were also mutilated and blown over from the blasts. In seconds, panic consumed the pack of predators and they scattered in the foliage.
“Fuck you too!” Drake yelled after them.
The pair entered the thick jungle, and once again, Ben paused to check the tracks. He shook his head.
“This guy must have the luck of the Irish. When I was stuck in this damn hellhole, I used to crawl around on my belly covered in mud.” He looked up. “But Andy just barrels along like he owns the place.”
Drake grunted. “The shitty thing about luck is, it eventually runs out.”
Ben nodded and hunkered down as the wind started to howl with hurricane intensity. He looked up briefly and grimaced.
“Time’s running out. He can’t be too far ahead now.” Ben got to his feet and sucked in a deep breath. “I’m getting too old for this.”
Drake looked over his shoulder for a moment. “Well, one way or the other, we’re on the last lap. So let’s make it count.”
“I heard that,” Ben said and began to run again.
*****
Helen stayed standing under the foliage for many minutes as the rain pelted down, throwing up mud to her knees. She was alone; there were no people, and no bodies, as they had been consumed by a re-evolution timeline that was taking them all back one at a time.
Evolution seemed free now to try different things with its creations—take some back, replace others, and insert entire new lines of work. It might mean that old models got updated, upgraded, or in some cases, downgraded.
Just thinking about it scared the shit out of her because she knew it would take them too soon. Perhaps it would pause, stop, or maybe reverse if Andy was brought back with them. Or maybe it was all too late.
Helen walked carefully forward to look up at the huge body of the snake hanging in the tree. Even standing so close and looking directly at it, her mind found it hard to believe the thing had been real and alive.
She’d spent her career studying its fossil evidence, but seeing it animated was both as magnificent as it was horrible. Was Andy right? she wondered. Were they, Ben, Drake, Helen, and Emma, somehow responsible for taking a creature out of the evolutionary stream before its time?
Each year, in modern times, dozens of species went extinct, so this was just another. Just another taken out when it shouldn’t have been taken out; so maybe it was true. But we killed a legend, she thought.
She grabbed at her stomach. “Oh no,” she whispered as she felt the weird sensation wash through her as another distortion wave passed over her.
Everything went black and stayed black. She screamed but no sound came and when it was finally over, she held her hands out like a tightrope walker for a few moments to get her balance.
Helen moaned and then rubbed her face—it felt strange.
She pulled her hands away to look at them, and saw they were tiny, pudgy, and small, like a fat baby’s hands. She felt her face again, and noticed her chin felt smaller and weaker, and was now slightly receding.
What’s happening? she wondered and sank down in the drizzle, praying that Ben and Drake came back with Andy, or just that they came back at all.
“Don’t leave me here. Not like this,” she murmured as she sat, tiny and lonely, in the oily warm torrential rain.
CHAPTER 51
Greenberry, Ohio—The final Re-evolution
Emma sprinted back to where she had left her car, but then detoured up to Frank and Allie’s house—they had a spare shotgun and she knew where it was. If she got attacked, she wanted all the firepower she could get her hands on.
Bursting inside, she saw that the television set was still playing softly and as she went to pass by the living room, the first distortion wave washed over her. Emma went to her knees and tried to focus on the screen, and just before everything went dark, she saw images of a city, buildings, traffic, pedestrians, and other displays of normalcy that she tried to hang onto.
The blackout came and went, and when she blinked it away, she opened her eyes to see the images on the television had changed—it was the same cityscape, but it looked to be consumed by tangled vines, huge trees, with things like monstrous bats flying overhead.
“Oh God, no,” she panted. “It’s caught up to us…all of us.”
The next blackout forced her down onto all fours, and it seemed to last for an eternity. This time when she opened her eyes, she was ill, and finally when her vision cleared, she felt grass under her hands and knees. She wasn’t in Frank and Allie’s house anymore—because it wasn’t there.
“What the…?”
She stared at the empty hilltop for a few seconds more and then got unsteadily to her feet. She looked around—perhaps she had somehow wandered around in a daze, like a sleepwalker, and was now on another hill.
No, that was impossible—the track was still there, and the shape of the hill looked right, but there was nothing else, not even a sign that a house had ever been there in the past. She looked along the dirt track—it was a good two miles to her property. Emma knew she had no choice. She began to run.
She checked her watch; it was still only midday—good—the goddamn freak bats weren’t due to be out and about for ages yet. But it had been hours since the last blackout, and every time one occurred, something changed. And the changes were getting bigger, more extreme. At first, it was as if little edits were being done to their world’s story. But the latest changes weren’t just edits, big or small; instead, they were full rewrites.
She powered on, her athletic frame easily eating up the miles. She began to speak to herself as she ran, moving it into a chant: Zach will be fine, Zach will be fine, she whispered over and over.
She managed to calm herself with the positive thoughts. And then everything dropped into an empty void of blackness.
And stayed black. And empty. And silent.
Emma felt like she was falling, or floating, as there was no sensation of ground, no up or down, cold or warmth, or even if she was even breathing or not. Her stomach flipped and just as she was about to scream her panic, the light returned. And with it came her senses.
That’s when the smell hit her—human waste, blood, body odor, and something else she found familiar but couldn’t quite place.
Emma got slowly to her feet and found she was dressed in some sort of rag. People milled around, but they were like no people she had ever seen in her life. They were short, overweight, and had small heads and receding chins. Some turned to look at her with vacant, cow-like eyes.
“What’s happening?”
Emma backed up as one of them bumped into her, and it felt soft and flabby. She turned about. The green field she had been in, the one she was just running across, was now covered in muck, surrounded with a wire fence, and she was trapped inside with all these strange people.
In front of her, one of the men or women, she couldn’t really tell them apart, started to urinate. She backed up as it just let it splash to the ground and onto its feet to add to the fetid mess. It didn’t seem to mind, and none of the others even noticed.
“What the hell is happening?” She turned about, and then from the far side was the sound of an engine, and she pushed the dumb brutes out of her way and headed toward the sound. “Move it.”
But there were hundreds of them in here with her, and when she finally got to the fence where the sound of machinery was coming from, she wrapped her fingers around the links and stared. Some of the people were being herded up a ramp and into a large building, and now that she
was closer, she could make out the distinct sounds of metallic thumps, saws working, and grinders.
Emma moved along the fence, pulling and pushing the soft, chubby people out of the way so she could see around the other side.
She wished she didn’t.
There was another ramp out the back, and this one was a conveyor belt-type thing, and coming down it to be loaded, were sides of meat.
“No, no, no.” Her fingers unhooked from the wire mesh as she backed away. Now she recognized the odor—blood, meat, offal, and the hot smell of a bone saw—an abattoir.
Loading the meat and helping herd the dumb brutes were groups of people in green coats and helmets.
She squinted for a moment and then raised an arm.
“Hey!”
She licked her dry lips. They’d soon see she was in here by mistake.
“Hey you—where am I?”
They turned to face her.
Emma’s mouth closed so hard her teeth clacked together.
They weren’t people. They weren’t even human. They were lizards, with pebbly skin, red lidless eyes, and snouts. She squinted and saw between their eyes a distinctive v-pattern of larger scales, like a brow, but it made the things look like they were scowling at her.
Emma backed away, putting her hands to her face. “Oh, Zach?”
She felt it then, her face; it was round, the chin weak and receding. Tears ran down her cheeks. She lifted a hand to her face and saw the stubby and soft little fingers.
Then she knew—the last black out, the big one, was a major rewrite—the final re-evolution. They, the human race, had lost it all. Some other creatures had now risen to the top, and they were little more than cattle to be farmed and harvested.
She began to cry, and she knew she was carrying the greatest curse of all—she had retained her mind. She knew what they’d done, and she knew what was coming.
We did this, she thought. We threw it all away.
She looked up, her vision swimming.
“Curse you, Primordia.”
When she looked back down, she saw the lizard creatures were at the fence now and staring in at her, their faces registering naked interest.
She knew then she needed to keep her mouth shut. After all, cows don’t speak. She tried to back into the crowd of brutes, but the lizards followed her with their large, red eyes. There were hurried conversations and then a few broke off to head toward the cage gate.
In a minute, they were unlocking a gate and the crowd around her started to become agitated. The human cattle-people started to grunt and harrumph, snorting and whining rather than talking.
The reptiles coming in had picked up long poles with u-shapes at their end—either cattle prods or capture sticks.
Emma backed further away, bumping into one after the other of the docile remnants of humanity. Their near-naked bodies pressed in around her, with their stink and their oily sweat, and their grunting, snorting, and animal utterances.
I’m in hell, she thought, as the capture stick caught her by the neck. They forced her down into the muck and brought a lead.
It was then she slipped mercifully away into unconsciousness.
CHAPTER 52
“I’ve seen the birth of continents, and the rise of new oceans.”
Ben wiped his face as the rain beat down on them, heavy, blood-warm, and slick. Wind also bent the palm fronds back and made tracking the kid difficult.
“Can’t let him get away,” Ben said. “Too much at stake.” He pulled his revolver. “First prize, we take him down wounded. Second prize, we just take him down full stop.”
Drake pulled his gun. “Spread.” He charged out to the left.
Ben nodded and did the same to the right. Both big men chased down the wiry Andy who skipped lightly through, around, and over the jungle debris. But Andy was increasing his lead, as his smaller, slimmer body was able to maneuver through the tangled jungle far faster than the two broad men in their bulky equipment-laden clothing.
Just as Ben was going to prop and fire a few rounds to try and wing the kid, something exploded out of the jungle from Andy’s side. Ben already knew from experience that this wasn’t a place to run blindly through the jungle—noise, scent, and especially movement attracted predators.
“Down,” he hissed to Drake as he dived to the side.
The theropod was about 10 feet tall and had a large, pebbled head that seemed all bone, with a mouth full of finger-length, curving teeth. But what would have caused the most damage to Andy was that it leapt and landed on his skinny body, about 800 pounds, with massive feet extended and displaying scythe-like claws on each center toe.
Drake and Ben both came up from their concealment and fired several rounds with their handguns. But their revolvers were inefficient and were just irritants to the beast whose hide would have been like toughened leather.
Andy screamed and his bag fell to the side. From within it, a small squawking creature came out, flapping wings, one deformed, and immediately tried to peck at one of the large feet that held down its lifelong friend.
Ben quickly changed up his weapon’s tech and pulled from over his shoulder the big .50-Cal, Barrett M82. He aimed and fired. Immediately, half the creature’s head blew apart in an explosion of blood, bone, and gore, and it fell like a tree trunk.
The men rushed over, with Drake keeping watch as Ben tended to the severely damaged young man.
Andy coughed blood, and the tiny flying reptile hopped onto his chest and tried to nuzzle into the crook of his neck.
Andy gently laid a hand on his small friend. “I fucked up.” He coughed more blood.
Ben kept pressure on the largest of the wounds in his upper chest, but it pumped and bubbled blood, and he knew it had to have damaged his lungs and heart. They didn’t have the kit to mend him, or the place, or the time.
“You’ll be fine,” he lied.
Andy grimaced. “I can’t die yet.” He groaned and reached out for the tiny flying reptile and scooped it into the crook of his arm. “There’s so much I want to do and see.” He coughed, and his lips became glossy red like he wore garish lipstick.
Drake looked at the sky and then over his shoulder. “Ben, gotta go. Our ride is starting to pull away.”
“Leave me; it’s okay.” Andy tried to lift his head. “I’m sorry. Please tell Helen, I’m sorry. I only wanted her to see what I’ve seen.”
“We will,” Ben said softly.
Andy laid his head back and stared up at the boiling sky above him. “I’ve seen the birth of continents, and the rise of new oceans. I’ve seen monsters from history walking and swimming. And I’ve seen things that we never even knew existed.” He screwed his eyes shut for a moment, either in pain or regret. “I love this place. It’s fitting I die here.” He laughed wetly and turned his head to Ben. “Told you I was staying.”
“We were never meant to be here in the first place,” Ben said.
“I know, and I finally learned the truth,” Andy grimaced. “We shouldn’t be here because we’re the real monsters.” He reached out to grab Ben’s arm. “Leave me. Go home to your family while you still can. Save yourselves and save Helen; hurry.”
“We’ve got time,” Ben said.
Drake shook his head, but Ben ignored him. Andy shuddered, but seemed to gather himself. He lifted himself, groaning as he did.
“Promise me one thing.”
Ben nodded and waited.
“The only friend I had in this world.” He reached for the tiny pterodon and handed it to Ben. “His name is Gluck. Look after him.”
“I can’t.” Ben shook his head.
“Please, Ben. Just because I die, doesn’t mean he has to as well. At least save him.” Andy clung on tight to Ben. “Please, he’s my only friend.”
“Ah, shit.” Ben nodded. “Okay.”
“Thank you.” Andy kept his eyes on Ben’s as he relaxed, and let out a long breath that emptied his lungs. They never refilled.
“Is i
t over?” Drake asked.
“I hope so.” Ben reached out to close Andy’s eyes. He then grabbed his mesh bag and tried to push the small reptile into it. But it bit him.
“Gluck.”
“Gluck you too.” He pushed it in and tied the bag closed.
“Time to go, big guy,” Drake said.
Ben checked his watch. They now had mere hours. “Double time; we’ve got the tail of a comet to catch.”
*****
Drake was first to find Helen, sitting out in the rain as though daring, or wanting, an attack. She wouldn’t look at him at first, and when he crouched in front of her and grabbed her shoulders, she looked up and he was taken aback by her appearance.
Ben crouched beside him and then lifted her chin.
“It’s come for us,” she said sadly.
“Oh God.” He turned to Drake and shook his head. “We didn’t change anything.”
Helen looked up and began to laugh, in a small child-like voice. “Maybe we did and maybe we didn’t. It’s got millions of years to ripple forward to us before we’ll really know.”
Drake helped her to her feet and hugged her tight. He needed to close his eyes to slits as it was like being in the middle of a maelstrom. Above them, the boiling sky swirled purple and black like an angry bruise on the heavens.
Ben grabbed at his arm and yelled back at him. “We gotta go, now!”
Drake grabbed Helen’s hand in his and he felt how weirdly soft and tiny it was now. He said a silent prayer that she was right and there was still a chance things would be corrected now that Andy had been stopped. If not, then they’d all either vanish from existence, or he and Ben would soon suffer the same fate as Helen.
Ben, Drake, and Helen moved quickly through the underbrush back to where they believed was their tiny cave that would lead them to their drop lines.
Helen was quiet, not asking, and perhaps not wanting to know what happened to her brother. Drake hated that a small part of her thought that he and Ben had been responsible for his death, even though she knew it was necessary to stop him at all costs.