by Ben Hammott
Blightburn looked at Troy. “Go with the deputy and find out from this Digger Dave how many other mine entrances and exits there are.”
As Troy left with Rickmeyer, Blightburn turned to Yuri. “I would like to find out what we are up against before I send people in. Can you fly one of your drones into the mine so we can see what they are up to and ascertain their numbers in case more have joined them?”
“Getting the drone to the mine is not a problem, but I’ll need a signal booster relay placed at the entrance, or I’ll lose contact with it when it goes inside.”
“That can be arranged,” confirmed Blightburn.
Blightburn glanced around the gathered group. “Just to confirm, so we are all clear, this is the plan. We’ll tackle this on three fronts. One: Clean-up and specimen retrieval teams will concentrate their efforts on the aircraft wreckage and the area around the crash sites.” She glanced at her watch. “That stage of the operation is already underway. They will also retrieve the infected pilots' bodies for study. Two: A drone will be sent inside the mine to get visuals on what the aliens are doing in there and to find out their numbers. Three: Depending on the report from the mine foreman regarding other exits or airshafts they might be able to escape through, we are contemplating collapsing the tunnel to trap them inside. This will involve explosives having to be placed in the entrance in preparation. However, before that is done, we’ll need to gather an Xtro to study and one or more of the live infected humans to test out any cure the scientists may come up with.”
“As it was us that brought them here and have experience with the aliens, we’ll volunteer to enter the mine,” said Colbert.
Blightburn nodded at Colbert. “Thank you.”
Colbert turned to Richard. “You’ll be coming with us.”
Richard snorted. “I bloody well won’t. I’m a civilian, and you can’t make me.”
“And how did that argument work out for you the last time you proposed it?” reminded Colbert.
“We are no longer in Siberia,” argued Richard.
“He’s right. We can’t force civilians to do things against their will,” said the colonel.
“No, but we can bribe them,” said Colbert. “The meteorite that started all this is his, and I’m certain he will do anything to keep hold of it. We caught him heading out of town with it on a truck.”
Guessing Colbert’s mind, Blightburn looked at Richard skeptically. “You want him that much?”
“I know, he doesn’t look much use, but if anyone can beat these aliens, he can. He’s done it before; escaped a whole spaceship full of them and saved our asses from a particularly nasty one in Siberia.”
“Okay, Richard, here’s the deal,” said Blightburn. “You help us defeat the alien threat and, if the meteorite poses no further danger, you can have it.”
“And if I refuse, what then?”
“We’ll destroy your precious rock with thermite charges until nothing remains but an unimpressive molten blob.”
Certain the woman meant it; Richard sighed. “Won’t do me much good if I’m dead.”
Mason nudged him. “Don’t worry, Richard, we have your back.”
“Great! My confidence over bounds.”
Yuri turned to Colbert. “Before you leave, I’ll give you a signal booster for the drone to place at the entrance so we can have a look inside the mine before you enter.”
Colbert nodded. “Not a problem. We’ll also need some gear to ensure our mission is a success.”
“If we have it, it’s yours,” assured Blightburn. “What’s your plan?”
CHAPTER 25
Clean-up Team
Although they had been warned they might prove to be useless against the needle-like spines the Xtros fired, the team had still elected to wear Hazmat suits as protection from the worms infesting the corpses they were about to retrieve.
Dressed in the stifling suits—some had labeled portable sweatboxes—the team of twelve stood at the top of the rise, looking down at the wreckage of the crashed airplane. Although absent its wings and tail, the crumpled fuselage bent at an angle around a tree, was surprisingly intact for what it had suffered.
In overall charge of the field teams, ex-CDC operations manager, Joan Novak, who had joined INSECT at its inauguration, spoke into her helmet mic. “Team one with me. Team two and three spread out and do a systematic sweep of the area. Mark and record anything you find.” As the teams split up, she led her team of four down the slope and over to the wreck.
Back at the airbase communication and operation trailer, Blightburn, Yuri, Troy, Colonel Jennet, Charlotte, and Kathryn, stared at the bank of monitors relaying the images from the cameras attached to the group leaders’ hoods. Yuri brought the view from Novak’s camera up on the larger central screen when she entered the downed aircraft.
Entering the gloomy interior through the large rip in the fuselage where the C-130 had bent around the tree, they peered each way down the two sections.
Novak turned to two of her team, Erickson and Fisher. “Check out the rear section.”
Switching on their helmet lamps to light their way, the two men walked off. The wreck creaked with their movements when Novak led the remainder of her team toward the cockpit. Dappled by the surrounding leaves and the branches, straight-edged rays of sunlight seeping through the small windows along either side of the fuselage were put into motion from the breeze disturbing the foliage. Slithering and scraping coming from ahead halted the nervous team. Something tinkled to the floor.
“That sounded like glass,” uttered Olson.
“Probably a piece of the cockpit’s plexiglass windows loosened in the crash,” offered Novak, peering through the damaged cockpit doorway.
“Let me check it’s clear before you enter.” Norris moved to the front, ignited the pilot flame on the compact flame thrower, and aimed it at the cockpit when he moved forward. He glanced at the splintered remnants of a wooden pallet on the floor and the destruction to the entrance. He kicked aside an L-shaped piece of wood and stepped into the cockpit. Both seats were empty. The blanket that had once covered the co-pilot was snagged on the console, billowing with the breeze sweeping through the broken windows. He checked around the sides of the chairs and in the two open lockers; their contents spilled to the floor in the crash. “All clear.”
Novak approached and glanced at the bent-back doorframe and wall, its jagged edges waiting to rip holes in their protective suits, and the broken pallet. She pictured the meteorite she had seen being taken to the laboratory for examination. It was far more impressive than others she had seen images of. “It looks like the meteorite broke free in the crash and exited through the cockpit.” She entered and gazed around at the destruction. The passing through of the meteorite had destroyed part of the console and punched through the middle window sections, breaking and bending the frames outward.
After glancing at the flesh-stripped cat bones, she looked at each vacant seat. According to the SEAL team, the pilot was in the washroom, but the bodies of the co-pilot and their teammate were here. Trails of blood led from both seats, over the console, and through the ragged hole in the windows. Her brow crinkled when she examined the co-pilot’s harness. The strap-lock was still in place. The edges of the straps were frayed as if someone or something had chewed through them. She checked Kelly’s harness; it was the same. Wondering if the force of the crash would have snapped and frayed the straps, she turned her focus on the windows directly in front of the seats. Although cracked, there were no signs of the two men having been catapulted through them during the crash; the only hole was the one in the middle created by the meteorite.
Novak examined the blood and pieces of flesh caught on the sharp plexiglass fragments at the bottom of the hole; it could only have come from one or both missing men. Ragged pieces of cloth snagged on shards of plexiglass still in the frame confirmed it. She placed the sample recovery kit on the pilot’s seat and opened it. As she collected a sample of the blo
ody matter, a rustling of undergrowth outside leaned her forward through the hole to peer below the crumpled, stubby nose of the Hercules. Leaves of a bush quivered unnaturally as if something disturbed them. If the missing corpses were below and were being feasted on by the local wildlife, they could become infected and spread whatever this was far wider than they could contain.
Noticing Philip Patterson from Team 2 a short distance from the bush, she spoke into her helmet mic. “Philip, something is moving below the nose of the plane. I’m worried it might be the pilots’ bodies being picked at by animals.”
“Understood. We’ll check it out.”
Sealing the blood and tissue sample in the container, Novak placed it in her bag. A thump on the toilet wall turned her and her team’s heads to the sound.
*****
Flanked by a man with a flamethrower and one armed with a rifle, Patterson headed for the nose of the aircraft; if an animal was feeding on an infected corpse, it would have to be destroyed.
They halted at the buckled front of the fuselage and took in the streaks of blood leading from the windows to the ground. They spun at the sound of moving foliage and stared at the bush, its branches and leaves shaking erratically.
“Let’s move around to the other side but keep your distance,” Patterson whispered, turning to Tony Smith. “If it’s an animal, shoot it.”
Smith nodded and led them around to the far side of the bush. They halted in shock at what they saw; it wasn’t an animal.
“You getting this Control?” uttered Patterson.
*
Blightburn was as shocked as the rest of the witnesses in the room when the unexpected sight appeared on the screen. Judging by his uniform, it had to be the co-pilot. Creamy tentacles, some stained with blood, grabbed at the ground and anything else within reach; they were trying to pull him along. Patterson’s camera panned the length of the man and halted on the foot caught in the V of a branch. It was the tendrils' attempts to free it that shook the bush. She reached for the talk button. “We are. Is he alive?”
*
With the co-pilot’s face turned away from him, Patterson moved around to the other side and took in the man’s gray, featureless complexion and lifeless eyes. A deep gash in his skin revealed his cheekbone. “Negative Control. He is dead. Send down a recovery team to bag him for the lab.”
“Affirmative,” replied Blightburn, they are on their way. Is there any sign of the navy SEAL’s body?”
Turning to the sound of a quad bike approaching, Patterson glanced around the area.
“There’s a trail over here,” called out Smith, who had moved away a few steps.
Patterson went to have a look. A trail of disturbed leaves and dragged earth led through the bushes and around trees. “It seems the other body is going somewhere, Control.”
“I see that. Once the co-pilot is bagged, follow it.”
“Understood.” Patterson crossed to the quad bike pulling a trailer loaded with two caskets. It came to a stop a short distance from the struggling corpse. “Bring a casket.”
The casket was laid beside the corpse and opened. Noticing the activity, some of the tendrils stopped what they were doing and turned toward the humans.
Showing his surprise at seeing the worm-riddled corpse, one of the men that had just arrived grabbed a plastic cover and a body bag from the casket. He handed the body bag to Patterson. “Hold that for a moment.” He turned to Smith. “Can you release his foot as we need it clear of the bush?”
Though reluctant to get anywhere nearer it, Smith moved to the bush. Using the barrel of the rifle, he bent back one arm of the V branch. The foot slipped free. Tendrils reached out and hauled its dead host along the ground.
As soon as it was clear, the two men from the cleanup squad placed the thick rubber tarp over it. Crouching, they tucked it beneath and rolled the corpse over and over until it was fully wrapped in the cover. They folded the ends over and sealed it with duct tape. The body bag was laid out, and the wriggling bundle was placed inside. They zipped it up, put it in the aluminum casket, and closed the lid.”
“Nicely done, Carl,” praised Blightburn.
“Thank you, ma’am. Bringing it back to the lab now.”
They carried the casket to the quad, strapped it onto the trailer and drove back to base.
Patterson turned to his teammates. “Right, let’s go find the other one.”
They followed the trail deeper into the forest.
CHAPTER 26
Digger Dave
Deputy Rickmeyer halted his knocking on Digger Dave’s front door and stepped back. When he failed to appear, he moved to the front of the house and peered through the window. “He can’t be home, the TV’s off.”
Troy glanced at the two flat tires of the old Dodge pickup, which was more rust than metal. He thought a good kick would collapse it into the pile of scrap it undoubtedly was. “Any idea where he might be?”
“That I do. Digger is a creature of habit, and if he’s not at home, he can only be one other place. Jump in the car, and I’ll take you to him.”
Troy climbed into the patrol car’s passenger seat, and the deputy drove off along the street, turned the first corner, and pulled to a halt outside the Pick and Hammer bar.
Upon entering, Troy immediately noticed the miner’s theme. Old lanterns, helmets, and a plethora of antique mining tools worn from many years of hard toil. It was like stepping back in time.
Digger turned his head to the new arrivals. “Howdy, Deputy, what brings you in here?”
Rickmeyer crossed to the only person at the bar. “You, actually.”
Digger frowned when he scrutinized the strangely dressed man beside the deputy, who screamed government official. “Whatever you’re accusing me of, I didn’t do it.”
Rickmeyer laughed. “Calm yourself. Info is all we’re after. You heard about the aliens yet?”
Digger nodded vigorously. “Me and McGraw were just talking about ‘em. Six-foot-tall and covered in tentacles I heard.”
Rickmeyer smiled. “Not quite, nearer six inches.”
“Oh,” uttered Digger, a little disappointed. “That’s not so bad then. You can stamp on the little alien varmints .”
“It’s true then?” uttered McGraw, the barman who hadn’t believed the rumors spreading through town. “We really got aliens here?”
“We have,” confirmed Rickmeyer. “But as far as I know, they haven’t reached town yet.” He sat on the stool beside Digger. “They are currently holed up in your old copper mine, which is why we’ve come looking for you.” He cocked a thumb at the man beside him. “This here fella is with those at the airbase come to handle the alien situation. As they are in the mine, they are thinking about blowing up the entrance to collapse it, trapping them inside.”
Digger shook his head doubtfully. “Won’t do them no good. Tunnel 3 and 5 are already blocked by cave-ins, but you got two airshafts in that section they can escape through.”
“In case we need to blow them, can you draw us a diagram of the mine showing the locations of the airshafts?” asked Troy.
“I ain’t one for drawing, and even if I was, you’d need to plant your explosives at the top of the shafts to be effective. You city folk will never find them in this terrain, not without weeks of searching, anyway. No, the only way you’ll find them in a timely manner is if I take you to ‘em.”
“That won’t be necessary,” argued Troy, skeptical that the old man would be fit enough for the task he proposed. “You can mark them on a local map for us.”
Digger snorted. “And do me out of a two hundred dollars a day guide fee, no siree. Believe me, even if I was inclined to pinpoint them on a map, which I’m not, without knowing the terrain, you’ll still ‘ave a damn hard job finding ‘em.”
“He’s right,” stated Rickmeyer. “It’s mighty rough out there. You need him.”
Troy gazed at the old man, doubtfully. “Yeah, but will he be able to make it?”
> “Don’t you worry none about my capabilities,” admonished Digger. “I’ll get you to the shafts and back again, no worries.”
Troy sighed and conceded. “Alright. But you need to come with us to the airbase right now.”
“You accepting my two hundred a day fee, then?” asked Digger seeking confirmation.
“I’ll have to run it by my superior, but under the circumstances, I don’t foresee a problem.”
“The clock starts ticking as soon as I climb off this stall,” warned Dave.
“Let’s just get going,” said Troy.
Dave supped the last of his beer and followed them out outside.
CHAPTER 27
Cocoon
Perched at one end of the cocoon overseeing its construction, the Alpha observed those scurrying over it. They filled in any gaps with the black strands that each of them excreted, which would harden after a few seconds; it was almost ready. It turned to the tunnel when shuffling sounds drifted along it. Raising tentacles, it sampled the air and detected the scent of its own kind. A few moments later, the corpse of the bear and the wolves were dragged into the cavern. A few clicks of its tentacles directed their placement. The tendrils pulled them into positions below the nest and alongside the other corpses. They would supply the essential nourishment when required. The Alpha returned its attention to the busy workers and moved over the nest to check everything was in order.
CHAPTER 28
The Pilot
Blightburn informed her laboratory team an infected body was on its way. She had Yuri send them the video of the worm-riddled corpse so they would know what they were dealing with before the casket was opened. She turned to the others in the control room. “We have our first specimen. Hopefully, we’ll soon find out exactly what sort of organism this is and perhaps a way of dealing with it.”