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Ice Rift - Xtro: Alien Invasive Horror Thriller

Page 21

by Ben Hammott


  CHAPTER 46

  Eggs

  Unaware of the evacuation in progress, and the soldiers moving ever nearer as they rounded up any stragglers, Elroy exited from the back door of his house and went to check on his chickens that had suffered so much drama lately. They were a skittish bunch at the best of times, and the recent visit from the fox hadn’t improved their temperament. The drop in their egg-laying quota was proof of that.

  He entered the coop at the bottom of the garden and was surprised to see that hardly any chickens remained. He crossed to the foxhole near the floor—somehow they had managed to push the board away and escape.

  Elroy went outside, crossed to the hole in the fence, and plucked free a couple of feathers snagged on the wire. Cursing their escape, he wondered how far they had wandered. He sighed as he returned to the coop. He would search for them after he had eaten.

  Saddened by the loss of his best layers, he checked the nests and gathered up the four eggs he found. He picked up one that seemed a little gray, put it to his nose and sniffed. It smelt fine. Attributing the color change down to their recent scares, he secured the coop door and returned inside where his wife was preparing a fry up.

  “Most of the damn chickens have escaped through the holes that thieving fox made, and only four eggs today,” he informed his wife as he placed the bowl of eggs beside the stove. “It’s hardly worth the expense of their upkeep with my best layers gone.”

  “No matter dear,” comforted Maisie. “It’s a shame, but you’ll get some more layers when all this space alien thingamajig is done with.” She turned the sausages and the rashes of bacon in one frying pan and put the second pan on the heat ready for the eggs.

  Still grumbling with the injustice of it all, Elroy took a seat at the table. “That’s as may be, Maisie, but I’m out of pocket. Those government people or the army should give me compensation. It was their fault all this happened.”

  “You should complain to the sheriff,” advised Maisie.

  Elroy scoffed. “I aim to, for all the good it will do.”

  The egg Maisie cracked over the frying pan sizzled in the hot oil as it spread out. Two more followed. Picking up the final one from the bowl, she also noticed its grayness. Knowing her husband would have checked it, she cracked it open. She stared at the gray mass with a black yolk at its center. “Elroy, something ain't right with one of your eggs. It’s black.”

  Elroy crossed to the stove and stared at the unusual black yolk. He gasped when something moved within. “You see that Mais, something’s alive inside.”

  “I did. You think it’s a chick embryo?”

  “Must be, I guess.” Elroy picked up a fork from the counter and gave the yolk a prod. Maisie screamed when thin tentacles shot out, wrapped around Elroy’s hand, and hauled the furry black alien from the pan. Dripping with dark yolk, it leaped onto his face. It perched on his nose and seeming to sense the presence of another human, turned to face Maisie, who staggered back in fear and shock.

  Elroy clawed at it to pull it free. Tentacles grabbed his hands and bound them to his head. Unable to break free, Elroy screamed for help.

  Brought to her senses by her husband’s horrific plight, Maisie halted her retreat. Elroy needed her help, and with God as her witness, no alien was going to hurt her husband if she were around to prevent it. Snatching a wooden spatula from beside the stove, she batted the alien with the inadequate weapon until the tentacles wrapped around it, yanked it from her grasp, and flung it across the room.

  Elroy shook his head and tried to tug his hands free. He staggered about and barged into the table prepared for their meal they would never now eat.

  Maisie shot a glance at the stove where the sausages, bacon, and eggs were beginning to burn. She grabbed one of the frying pans, tipped the eggs to the floor, and rushed at her husband. Hoping it wouldn’t hurt Elroy too much, she swung the base of the pan at the alien clinging to his face. The force of the blow sent Elroy reeling backward. He tumbled over his favorite chair and fell to the ground.

  Cautiously, Maisie moved around the table to find out if the blow had killed the alien. Expecting to see it splattered over her husband’s face, she was surprised to see no sign of it, only the tail of a slithering tentacle disappearing up a nostril of her husband’s bloodied nose. It was inside Elroy. A brush of something on her arm, turned her head to discover the cause. She screamed at the sight of the partly squashed half of the alien crawling from the frying pan. Her scream was cut short when it dived down her throat. The frying pan clattered to the floor as she gagged until it had cleared her windpipe. Feeling the horror moving inside her, she ripped open her dress and watched the tentacles spread out beneath her skin. She screamed with terror and panicked.

  I need a doctor. No! The people at the airbase will know what to do.

  Maisie went to help her husband to her feet so she could take him with her, but after only two steps, she slipped on the spilled oil and eggs. She fell and landed painfully on her back. Her eyes glazed over when bliss washed away her fears and concerns. She rested on the floor, enjoying the calming sensation while the alien parasitic hybrid went to work and began to form an Xtro that would help it reach the next level of its development.

  Elroy was also experiencing a likewise state of euphoria brought about by the part of the alien that was taking control of him and birthing its own Xtro.

  A short while later, husband and wife climbed to their feet. Ignoring the smell of burning food and the smoke drifting through the room, they headed outside and followed the commands of the alien parasites controlling them.

  CHAPTER 47

  Rescue Mission

  As he steered the quad onto the side road leading to the airbase, Richard pondered whether he should say goodbye to Boris first, or grab his meteorite and leave. Boris and Parker, who seemed a nice guy, had been getting on well earlier, and he had worked at a zoo, so he was used to being around animals. Deciding that it would only upset Boris if he did say goodbye, he decided he would just leave.

  Slowing when the airbase gate came into view, Richard pulled to halt when Lieutenant Dobbs walked forward with an arm raised for them to stop.

  Recognizing them, Dobbs gave them the once over and waved them through.

  *****

  In the control room, Blightburn turned away from the drone’s POV and ran her eyes over the side screens. Noticing the SEALs were at the gate, she reached for the radio button that would connect her to their helmet radios. “Meet me in the conference room for a debrief, and I’ll update you with what’s been happening.”

  “On our way,” replied Colbert.

  *****

  Richard pulled the quad forward and stopped so abruptly, Mason following had to swerve around him to prevent from crashing into the back of the trailer.

  “What you stopped for?” asked Colbert.

  Ignoring the question, Richard waved the soldier over he had recognized. “Hey, Parker.”

  Wearing a worried expression, Parker crossed to Richard.

  “Why aren’t you with Boris?”

  “Honestly, I had no choice. I tried to argue, but I was ordered to comply.”

  Richard’s concern now matched Parker’s. “What happened?”

  “Some men came, and before I knew what was happening, a scientist had injected him with something. They then strapped Boris in a wheelchair. I tried to stop them, but they had their orders, and by whatever means necessary, they were set on carrying them out. I contacted Control for clarification and was told the scientists needed him for one of their experiments, and I was ordered to return to my post at the gate checkpoint.”

  “How long ago was this?” pressed Richard.

  “About fifteen, twenty minutes.”

  “And where did they take him?”

  “They headed for the trailer laboratory.”

  Richard throttled through the entrance and headed across the airfield.

  Colbert spoke into Richard’s ear. “What’s you
r plan?”

  “Rescue Boris?”

  “What’s the rush?” asked Sullivan through the helmet radio.

  “Switch to private comms,” ordered Colbert.

  There was a slight pause before Sullivan spoke again. “What’s happening?”

  “The scientists have kidnapped Boris for one of their experiments, and Richard is going to save him.”

  “Count me in. The chimp saved my life,” said Sullivan.

  “He saved all our lives at one time,” added Mason. “I’m in.”

  Wondering how Blightburn was going to react, Colbert tapped Richard on the shoulder. “We’ll help.” He then spoke to Mason and Sullivan. “We had better go dark for this.” He reached for the camera and switched it off.

  Richard glanced at the quad Mason drove veering away. Trusting the man had a reason for doing so, Richard steered straight for the trailer lab and the four soldiers guarding it.

  Surprised by the quad bike speeding toward them, the four soldiers became alert and stepped forward to confront its passengers when it screeched to halt a short distance away.

  *****

  When the quads drove straight past the reception building, and their cameras went dark, Blightburn guessed Richard and the SEALs’ intentions. She looked at the lab screen showing Boris strapped calmly in a wheelchair and the scientists doing whatever it was scientists did, before turning to Yuri. “Do we have an external view of the trailer lab.”

  Yuri shook his head. “No one said we needed one.”

  Blightburn cursed inwardly. “Connect me to the soldier in charge of guarding it.”

  *****

  Richard and Colbert climbed off the Quad, and while Colbert hung back a few paces, Richard strode up to the soldiers. “We need to get inside and speak to the scientists. We have important information about the aliens they need to be informed of.”

  Temporarily confused on how to react to the demand, Whitlock was saved from making a decision by the voice coming from his radio, which they all heard. “Don’t let them enter the lab. Arrest them and escort them to the conference room.”

  The soldiers raised their weapons.

  Colbert aimed his rifle at Whitlock.

  Coming silently up behind the soldiers, Sullivan pressed his rifle against the back of one soldier while Mason pressed his against another and his knife against the throat of the fourth.

  “Lower your weapons, and no one will get hurt,” ordered Colbert calmly.

  Having little choice, the soldiers obeyed.

  “You won’t get away with this, Colbert. I strongly advise that whatever you are planning, you desist forthwith and meet me in the conference room so we can talk this through.”

  Colbert switched over the channel on his radio. “All we want is Boris let out of the lab unhurt.”

  “Not going to happen. They need the chimp to save lives. Human lives.”

  Colbert nodded to Richard. “Go get him.”

  Richard climbed the ramp that led up to the back of the trailer, opened the door, and entered.

  *****

  Oblivious to what was happening, Boris’s drug glazed eyes watched the strangely-dressed humans moving about the room without concern.

  Wendel glanced at Penfield. “You ready with the treatment?”

  “Just adding the adrenaline to wake the subject up, and it’s done.” With his concoction completed, Penfield crossed to Greg with the syringe containing the serum they hoped would cause the parasitic growth to leave the infected man without killing him.

  As Penfield placed the syringe needle against Greg’s skin, Wendel moved Boris beside the trolley and took a step back to join Hilleman observing, ready with the syringe containing a tranquilizer to put their patient and the things inside him back to sleep if the need arose.

  Wendel glanced at the cameras to make sure they were recording before nodding at Penfield. “Do it!”

  Penfield inserted the needle into Greg’s vein and pressed the plunger.

  The reaction was immediate, sending Penfield scuttling back in fright.

  Greg’s whole body jerked against the restraints before falling still.

  When he hadn’t moved for a few moments, Hilleman voiced what they were all thinking. “Is he dead?”

  Penfield cautiously moved closer to check and jumped when Greg let out a long, raspy gasp. Tendrils and sprays of blood erupted from his body. One tendril slightly thicker than the rest hauled its root ball through the rip in its host’s skin. Bloody and hung with long fine filaments, it was covered in smaller bulbs. The other tendrils slithered from their host and wrapping around its stem, formed into one thick stalk. Its tip menacingly looked at each human in turn.

  Surprised that the serum had worked so well and surprisingly fast if a little messy, Wendel focused on the hybrid’s stem. If he could inject the tranquilizer directly into it, there would be no need for an alternative host. Seizing his chance to test the theory when it turned its attention upon Penfield, Wendel snatched the syringe from Hilleman, who had frozen in shock from the gruesome Triffid-like spectacle, and lunged at the alien vegetation. A tendril lashed out from the stem and grabbed Wendel’s wrist, stopping the point of the needle a finger width from making contact.

  Staring at another of the hybrid limbs that jerked to a stop in front of his face, Wendel watched horrified when a shoot slid from its tip and formed into a thin, narrow spike. When the barb shot forward, penetrated the transparent faceguard, and stabbed through his eye, Wendel realized the rashness of his decision and screamed. The spike split open inside his brain. Filaments flowed out and gripped on to areas of the squashy, jello-like mass. Wendel’s screams ended when parts of his brain were ripped away and forced out through his eye socket. Wendel’s head thudded on the floor when his lifeless body collapsed.

  As the nutritious morsels were passed to the root ball to feast on, the plant was distracted by something clattering to the floor and focused on the human backing away.

  Having witnessed his colleague’s gruesome demise, Penfield was terrified the same would happen to him. He turned his thoughts to escape and keeping his eyes focused on the carnivorous plant, he edged toward the door. He froze when a metal tray he had brushed against crashed to the floor and attracted the plant’s attention; it stared straight at him. Lacking eyes or any other evident sensory organs, Penfield wondered how the creature was able to pinpoint his position. If he could reach the exit, he would be safe. Hoping to distract it, his hand snaked across the counter and closed around a metal specimen container. A flick of his wrist sent it flying across the room. It clattered to the floor and rolled until the wall brought it to a halt. When the plant turned to the sound, he ran for the exit. His hand gripped the handle just as the outer door opened and someone stepped in. Unable to operate the inner door while the outer one was open, he slapped a palm frustratingly against the transparent barrier. “Get out and shut the door!”

  Unconcerned by the man’s frantic demand, Richard peered past him. “What have you done with Boris?”

  “Boris? I don’t know anyone called Boris. Just close the outer door before that thing gets me.”

  “He’s a chimpanzee.”

  Penfield shot a glance behind at a slithering sound and almost cried when some of the tendrils separated from the plant’s main stem, formed legs, and climbed off the gurney to the floor. Moving on tentacle limbs, it headed toward him. He moved to the side and pointed at the wheelchair. “He’s there. Now quick, you have to leave and shut the door before I can get out.”

  Seeing the predatory plant for the first time, Richard could understand, if not sympathize, with the scientist’s distress. He focused on Boris, who sat there calmly, his expression serene. “What have you done with him? Is he infected?”

  Penfield stared at the creature moving steadily nearer. “No, nothing. He is drugged is all. Please, let me out.”

  Richard pulled the outer door shut. The inner door lock’s red indicator light turned green and clicked wh
en it released. Noticing the relief spread across the scientist’s face that wouldn’t last long if his distraction worked, Richard barged his shoulder hard against the door when Penfield turned the handle. The door sprung open with enough force to send Penfield staggering backward into the hybrid’s clutches.

  Ignoring the scientist’s fearful screams, Richard crossed to the wheelchair and released the straps restraining Boris. When he lifted him out of the chair, Boris clung to him and nuzzled Richard’s neck. Richard turned his head away. “Your breath still stinks.”

  Noticing Greg on the gurney, his skin bloody and ripped, he was surprised the man was still alive if the rising and falling of his chest was any indication he was. He looked at the plant when the scientist’s screams ended abruptly and noticed tentacles burrowing into the man’s flesh. If their experiment was to find a new host for it, the man should be pleased with the successful outcome.

  “Richard!”

  Richard glanced at the wall speaker the voice had originated from and then at the camera that turned on him.

  “I need you to contain this while it is in its new host. The man on the floor by you had a syringe filled with a tranquilizer. You need to inject it into the infected scientist before he dies. It will put him and the alien plant to sleep, and then we can kill it.”

  Richard turned to the distressed sobbing and noticed a woman wearing one of the blue suits hiding in the corner. He looked at the camera and nodded at the woman. “Get her to do it.”

  Richard headed for the exit. He stopped and backed away from the tentacle-dragged scientist that appeared from around the gurney Greg lay on, blocking his route to the door that had automatically closed. Penfield’s calm, almost euphoric expression, was at odds with his terrifying and deadly predicament.

  “Do this, Richard, and I’ll be in your debt,” coaxed Blightburn. “And don’t forget, I still have the last say on what happens to your space rock.”

  Richard sighed. When his frantic glance around the room picked out the body casket, he focused on the body-sized airlock chute at the end of the trailer where the female scientist cowered. Richard crossed to the chute and peered through the transparent cover at the exterior hatch. He looked at Hilleman and almost sympathized with the terror she was experiencing; it was the typical response when alien monsters were encountered. “Can the chute’s exit hatch be opened from in here?”

 

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