by Ben Hammott
Richard started to move up the lowering ramp, the rushing wind whipping his hair about his face.
“Wait!” shouted Colbert. “As much as I would like to see you jump to your death, there’s nothing below but mountainous terrain. Even if you survive the jump, which I doubt, there’s nothing below for hundreds of miles.”
“Let him jump,” advised Sullivan. “He’s the one that got us into this mess. And we should push that bloody rock out after him.”
“I agree. Hopefully, he’ll break a leg, and the wolves or grizzlies will get him,” added Mason, grinning at Richard.
Gripping the safety strap strung along the sidewall and blasted by strong wind, Richard edged along the ramp until he could peer down over the side. His legs trembled. His hands clenched the strap tighter. Far below was a Google Map view of mountain tops and deep valleys. It did nothing to encourage him to make the jump.
“We will be landing at the airport soon,” continued Colbert. “Why risk jumping when you don’t have to?”
Even with the creature on board, which seemed to have decided that hiding was its best option, Richard found it hard to find fault with the man’s logic and, if truth be known, he hadn’t given up on the meteorite saving his career if he could achieve that without losing his life. If Kelly could land the plane, then that might still be possible. He retraced his steps along the ramp and pressed the close button. “I’m staying right here, though,” he stated defiantly.
Colbert nodded, focused on the foam patch on the floor, and turned to the others. “Did you get it?”
Sullivan stowed the empty extinguisher. “Almost.” He pointed at the meteorite. “It crawled inside the rock. We should push it out to be rid of it.”
Colbert shook his head. “We can’t risk it reaching civilization. It has already survived a fall from space, so I doubt a couple of thousand feet will harm it.”
“How’s Kelly?” asked Mason.
“The creature shot hairs into him…”
“What, like a porcupine?” interrupted Mason.
Colbert shrugged. “Whatever it was, it paralyzed him, but it’s starting to wear off, and he believes he can still land the plane.”
Sullivan looked at Richard, who was staring over at them. “I’m curious to know why you tried so hard to stop him jumping?”
“You’ve seen how he works. Not only did he save my life back there in Siberia, he also blew up the Russian facility and survived the creatures that, in any way you look at it, should have killed him. I’ve said it before, he is motivated by self-preservation and will do anything to survive. When an alien creature is involved, there’s no one better to have on your side.”
“I know you are talking about me,” called out Richard.
“Just singing your praises is all,” replied Colbert.
Richard snorted. “Of course you were.”
Colbert headed for the cockpit. “Let’s go see how Kelly’s holding up. Richard, don’t take your eyes off that rock.”
Thumping and thrashing came from the toilet when they approached.
Mason gazed at the toilet door worriedly. “If I had to guess, I’d surmise that the pilot has just suffered the same fate as the cat and is now covered in a wriggling mass of alien worms.
“The co-pilot will be next!” Colbert rushed into the cockpit just as the man started convulsing. He cautiously raised an edge of the blanket. Things moved beneath the co-pilot's skin and clothes. He dropped the cover when they erupted.
Kelly stiffly turned his head at the multiple movements beneath the blanket. “The same thing will happen to me soon.”
“You don’t know that,” argued Mason.
“I can feel them inside me, moving, growing.” He looked at his friends and then back at the co-pilot. “Promise me that one of you will show mercy before that happens to me.”
Unsure what to say, the three men nodded.
Sullivan pointed out of the window. “Is that the airstrip?”
All eyes turned to the long strip of weed-infested concrete coming up fast below them. A group of buildings to one side, though partly reclaimed by nature and suffering from the effects of weather, time, and lack of maintenance, were still identifiable as to their original purpose. The most identifiable being the three large hangers, a traffic control tower, engineering workshops, barracks, and a mess hall. Three abandoned airplanes, and an old helicopter, seemingly stripped for parts, were parked on the grassy area along the opposite side of the runway.
Colbert looked at Kelly. “What do you think? The runway seems okay to me.”
“It’s here or nowhere. Don’t think I’ll last if we have to divert elsewhere. It’ll be bumpy, but I’ll get us down.”
“I’m confident you will,” praised Colbert.
“That must be Devil Falls,” exclaimed Sullivan, pointing.
They all looked at the tall, narrow waterfall cascading down a cliff face.
“And there’s the town,” indicated Colbert.
About a mile away, the town of Devil Falls was as unimpressive as any small town could aspire to be. Abandoned commercial buildings on the outskirts hinted at more prosperous times long past.
“It only had a population of a little over a hundred when the mine and airbase were open, probably only half that living there now,” voiced Mason.
As Kelly swung the plane in a wide circle to line up with the runway, they passed the old mine workings, its rusty machinery, abandoned ore carts, and skeletal framework of buildings now a graveyard to the mine’s past prosperity.
Lining up with the runway, Kelly prepared for the landing. He altered the flaps and began the descent. “Time to buckle up, it’s going to be a bone-rattling landing.”
As the others went to get strapped into their seats, Colbert placed a hand on Kelly’s shoulder. “You can do this.” He jerked his hand away when something moved beneath the man’s skin.
Kelly looked at him with frightened eyes. “I felt it too. They are everywhere.”
Noticing his friend’s clammy pallor, Colbert was about to ask if he was okay but knew he wasn’t. “Just get us on the ground safely, and I’ll take care of it for you, I promise.”
Kelly nodded. “Appreciated, Commander. Now go, you’re a distraction I don’t need at the moment.”
Colbert left.
Kelly, who had been hiding it from the others, grimaced from pain as soon as Colbert had gone. His whole body tingled with pins and needles from the parasites moving inside him. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he focused on the task in hand. He just needed to land the plane, and then it would all be over.
Staring at the runway, he altered course slightly when he realized he had drifted. He blinked the stinging sweat from his eyes. A shadow swept across his left eye when one of the things moved across it. He gripped the controls tightly and checked the gauges and readouts, Angle of descent, fine. Flaps trimmed. Speed a little fast. He pulled back on the throttle slightly. He silently cursed; he had forgotten to lower the wheels. A flick of a switch corrected the mistake. The sound of the hydraulics and whirl of motors were loud in the plane. A satisfying clunk when they locked into place.
The runway was coming up fast. Kelly’s arms twitched. His vision fogged, and he had a pounding headache. Feeling his body becoming unresponsive, Kelly willed his hands to obey as he tried to focus on the ground, now little more than a blurred streak of pale in surrounding fuzzy green and grays. The dials, gauges, and readouts now impossible to read; he was flying blind. Rapid blinking failed to clear the fogginess. They had reached his brain.
Unable to judge how near he was to the ground, landing was no longer possible without crashing. He pulled back, lifting the nose—only height and luck would save his friends now. They would have to parachute out.
As soon as he realized Kelly had aborted the landing, Colbert told his men to remain in their seats. He rushed up the plane with its nose now pointed at the sky, and into the cockpit.
Regretting he hadn’t jumped when he’d had th
e chance, Richard grabbed Boris’s hand when he chattered. “Yeah, we’ll be fine.”
Mason smiled at Richard. “You two make a nice couple.”
“The chimp could do better,” quipped Sullivan.
Boris chattered.
Richard glared at him and removed his hand. “In your dreams.”
Colbert studied Kelly. His skin had a grayish hue and was covered in beads of sweat. Things moved creepily under his skin, and his eyes were milky. “What’s wrong?”
Kelly had to force the words out. “Eyes… bad… see… little… Can’t…land. You… jump… I crash... Kill...them all!”
“There must be another…”
“No!... How… high?”
Colbert looked at the altimeter. “Eleven hundred feet and climbing.”
Kelly started counting in his head. Worried about the mountains, he would level off about three thousand feet and turn back toward the runway to give his friends more of a chance. Forcing his hand to move, he felt for the undercarriage control and raised the wheels. “Go!... Now!... Not… sure… how long… I have… control… I… try get… back… to airfield…. You jump… when… good.”
Although he was reluctant to do so, Colbert knew Kelly was already dead. The quick death of a crash would be far preferable to that alternative he had coming. “Goodbye, my friend. I’ll call out when we’re clear.”
Kelly managed a weak nod.
On exiting the cockpit, Colbert noticed Richard moving to the ramp control. “Gear up, men; we’re leaving.”
Mason shot a glance at the cockpit. “And Kelly?”
Colbert shook his head.
As they slipped on their parachutes, Richard opened the rear door.
The plane leveled off and began to turn.
“He’s taking us back to the airport,” explained Colbert.
“But he’s not going to land,” queried Sullivan.
“He’s lost his sight. I think those things inside him are in his brain.”
“Man, that’s a shit hand to be dealt,” uttered Mason, fastening his rifle to his chest clip so it wouldn’t smash him in the face when he jumped. The others did likewise.
Gripping the rail strap, Richard looked out at the mountainous terrain. They were heading for the airport at an angle. Suddenly the nose dipped. Fearing the worst, he decided it was now or never. He tried to run up the ramp, but fear of jumping rooted his legs to the floor.
Although he tried his hardest to fight against it, Kelly’s limbs began to lose all feeling. His hands dropped limply from the controls, and he felt the plane dip and turn. It was out of control. Hoping his friends had made it, he stared at the blurred landscape through the screen. A hodgepodge of hazy greens, browns, and grays drawing nearer. Death wouldn’t be long now.
Having depleted all the nourishment the cat had to offer, the tendrils crawled from its skeletal corpse and split into two clusters—one group headed for the co-pilot and the other for Kelly.
Spotting movement, Kelly glanced at the worms crawling onto his lap. They chewed through his clothes and burrowed into his body to join their brethren. Thankfully, he was too numb to feel any pain.
“Time to leave,” called out Sullivan when he noticed the plane veering away from the airbase and widening the distance by the second.
The men rushed to the ramp.
As he passed Richard, Sullivan glanced at the trembling man. “I’m surprised you’re still here.”
“I’m working on it,” replied Richard, trying to force his fear of jumping aside so he could move his feet.” He watched Mason and Sullivan drop off the end of the ramp as casually as if they were diving into a swimming pool.
Colbert grabbed Richard’s arm and tried to drag him along the ramp, but Richard clung fast to the strap. “You need to jump before the plane gets too low,” he yelled over the rushing wind.
Richard nodded. “I’ll follow you out.”
“Make sure you do.” Colbert turned his head to the cockpit. “Kelly! We are clear!” He ran along the ramp and dived off the end.”
Now all alone except for Boris, Richard looked back through the airplane and noticed the small black alien sitting on the meteorite watching him. When it jumped to the floor, Richard feared it was coming for him. He dragged himself up the ramp by the wall fastenings and, forcing himself to not look over the side, he let go of the strap and moved shakily to the middle of the ramp. Three short strides and jump, he told himself.
He turned his head to Boris’s chattering. “If you’re coming, come, because I’m not waiting.” He held out a hand while he ran the short distance.
Boris scampered along the floor, up the ramp and jumped when Richard flung himself off the end. He grabbed Richard’s hand. Richard swung him around to his front, and Boris wrapped his arms and legs around him and gripped on tight. Richard turned the chimp’s face away. Battered by the powerful wind rush of his plummet, he put his mouth to Boris’s ear and shouted, “You breathe your foul breath on me again, and I’ll drop you.”
Boris chattered.
“I do mean it.”
Spreading his arms and legs out as he had seen in the movies, Richard leveled out face down. The ground, though still far below, was coming closer fast. He felt beneath Boris’s furry chest for the ripcord and wrapped his fingers around it. “Hold on!” he warned Boris; the wind rushed into his mouth, billowing his cheeks, and threatening to pull his jaws apart. He promptly clamped his mouth shut and pulled the cord. The parachute billowed with air and jerked his speed slower.
Richard’s fear slowly turned to exhilaration as he drifted lower. He glanced around and saw the others a long distance from him. He tilted his face to the airplane circling in its shallow nosedive.
*
After observing the last human exit, the alien headed for the cockpit.
*
“He did it,” uttered Mason into his helmet mic when Richard jumped from the aircraft and deployed his parachute.
“He could jump out with nothing but a bath towel, and he’d land safely,” commented Colbert. “I’ve never met anyone so lucky or resourceful.”
Noticing the C-130 was on a collision course for Richard, Sullivan spoke into his mic. “I think his luck has just run out.”
*
Richard noticed that, unlike the SEALs, he was drifting nearer to the runway, lots of open space without anything to snag on. Perfect, he thought. The gradual roaring of engines growing louder turned his head to the noise. His expression turned to dread. The spiraling plane headed straight for him. With no idea what he was doing, he desperately yanked the control wires with the result he drifted nearer to the oncoming plane instead of out of its path.
In tandem, Richard and Boris screamed in terror at the airplane almost upon them. Richard stared into the cockpit and witnessed the worm tendrils exploding from Kelly’s body; it wasn’t a death he would wish on anybody. He was then shocked by the serene smile that appeared on the man’s face as he seemed to lovingly stroke the tendrils. He lifted his legs, ran up the screen and along the fuselage. Still desperately yanking on the cords, he was pulled to the side moments before the tail struck him. Caught in the wash of the plane, he was dragged along horizontally until it dipped and pulled away, releasing him. Quaking with fright and adrenaline, he observed the airplane diving for the small town of Devil Falls.
*
After witnessing Richard’s miraculous escape from death, Sullivan shook his head in dismay. “Now that’s just showing off.”
“Geesh! If that man were a cat, he’d be on minus lives now,” uttered Mason.
*
Having regained his sight, Kelly looked at the fuzzy shape of the alien that had jumped on the console to peer out through the windows. He turned his head to the things inside him, pressing against his skin. The quick death he had wished for wouldn’t be happening. Blood sprayed when they forced their way out. Strangely, there was no pain—just soothing calm. Enjoying the sensation, he closed his eyes.
The Alpha turned away from the three floating humans and took in the spiraling ground coming up at them fast. It turned to its two companions and communicated with tendril clicks and screeches produced by rubbing two together, like fingernails drawn jerkily down a chalkboard. One of them jumped onto Kelly and touched its tentacles to the tendrils. A wave of euphoria swept through Kelly. His eyes shot open. The cloudiness cleared. Control of his body returned, but his will was no longer his own. He looked at the undulating worms and stroked them with the loving proudness of a parent.
Kelly turned his gaze outside when one of the humans ran up the screen; this species was strange but easy to control when you got the hang of it. He then noticed the ground rushing toward them; his children would die if they crashed, and he would not let that happen. He grabbed the controls and hauled them back. The aircraft juddered violently with the strain—the ground growing closer every second. The altimeter spinning so fast the readout was a blur. Desperate to save his offspring from harm, Kelly increased his efforts, and slowly the nose began to lift. The plane straightened too close to the ground skimming the treetops. Branches whipped the bottom of the fuselage, and the plane vibrated and rattled. Trees gave way to a graveyard, which was soon left behind to be replaced by buildings.
People in Devil Falls stopped in the street and, with shocked expressions and mouths agape, stared up at the low plane flying over them. Close to rooftops, it soared through the town with a roar of strained engines. The far-reaching wings damaged aerials and chimneys.
Alpha click-screeched and jumped from the console in tandem with the one beside him. The creature communicating with Kelly’s tendrils broke contact, and deciding the soft fleshy carcass of the co-pilot would offer a better chance of survival, it leaped across to him and crawled inside.