Joe (31 page)

“Captain Slagel, Sgt. Ryder!” the call of their names drew them from their conversation.

Sgt. Owens approached, he was moving with haste, and his face carried worry.

“What’s wrong?” Hal asked.

“We have a problem.” Owens. “The young soldier on flower duty. The doodler.”

“Pvt. Williams,” Elliott said. “What’s wrong, is it up to art again?”

“No.” Owens shook his head. “He didn’t report for duty this morning. So I went back to his squad leader. He never returned. Double checking I went to the House of Lesbians . . .”

Hal cringed. “Women please.”

“But Frank said . . .”

Hal held up his hand. “Women. Did he turn in the flowers?”

“No.” Owens said. “We’ve searched the whole community. He’s not here.”

Hal suggested. “Perhaps he is in Beginnings, Jordan or Creedville.”

“We’re checking on that now, Sir.” Owens suggested.

“Or Doyle camp?” Elliott asked.

“Not there.” Owens stated. “We’ve never had anyone go AWOL. It could be a first, but . . . but I have a bad feeling. This kid was too upbeat and jovial to take this punishment that badly and go somewhere else.”

“I agree,” Hal said. “Let’s get reports from the communities then, if that breeds nothing, we send out a search party to the field.” A shift of his eyes, he saw Elliott staring out. “What is it, Elliott?”

“Let’s not wait, Captain. I have a bad feeling too. Let’s . . .” Elliott faced Hal. “Let’s get a search party to that field right now. I’ll lead the team.”

“Very well, Elliott, you take care of that.”

Elliott gave a single nod of his head and walked away with Sgt. Owens.

The young soldier had to be fine, Hal thought. He had to be. After all, he was only a mile from Bowman.

That was considered a safe environment.

****

He had discovered a place that could be plentiful. But he was only one. Chaka wasn’t sure what was in that village a few miles away, so until he was able to determine it, he was going to keep his distance and keep scouting. Keep hidden. Survive.

He was certain of one thing.

He was either no longer on his planet, or he had been transported to another time.

Fairy tales as a young being were always about prehistoric beings having the ability to go back and forth through time.

But they were just tales. No one believed them. Chaka was starting to think they were true. The stories of time travel, the stories of how the low creatures on the food chain ruled the world.

He journaled everything, took notes as best as he could with what he had on him.

He wished there was a way to blend in with the creatures, but he knew that wasn’t possible.

Besides, how could he do that when they were pretty much nothing, primal versions of himself?

The difference between the primal creatures of his world and the one he was in, were these primals communicated, they had intelligence.

The primal beings served a few levels of usefulness, whether in Chaka’s world or not.

And seen or unseen, Chaka had to fulfill basic needs to survive, and at least he had plenty of primals to help him achieve those needs on all levels.

****

Cup of coffee in hand, Joe secured the lock on the door. He was grateful that Danny gave him something to do other than hang around all day following people.

He would work the monitor tracking. Watching cameras for something different.

Not like anything would happen, but it gave Joe an opportunity to be normal.

Danny set it up perfectly, and with Beginnings mentality, no one questioned who the new mute guy was named Burton in tracking.

Like with everything, the people of Beginnings just accepted it and moved on.

Not even giving it a second thought.

If someone needed to speak to Burton they sent him an email, if they needed to ‘See’ him, he was in the bathroom.

He sipped his coffee with an ‘Ah’ and prepared to indulge in that cheese danish that Robbie got him.

He had a four hour shift and Joe kept a vigilant eye on all twenty monitors.

Danny had taken a while to set up the monitor room. A camera a week.

Combined with tracking they’d be able to see what was causing the ‘Blips and beeps’, only problem, no one really set up a good camera in the Killer Baby region.

Eyes scanning, an instant message came from Mark in tracking.

“Check Bowman Region One. Odd movement.”

“Ok” Joe typed back then looked at the camera.

Looked normal.

Using the control he scanned around.

Wait.

Stop.

Shit.

“Something.” Joe typed. “Moves fast.”

“Big too.” Mark relied. “Coming in at 500 pounds.”

Joe thought, ‘Five hundred pounds and moving that fast?’

He watched and watched, got one more glimpse followed it and snapped a still.

“Got it,” Joe typed. “Got a still. Not very clear.”

“What is it?”

Joe pulled the still up on another monitor. He clicked a few keys responding a typed message of ‘Don’t know, I’ll get back to you.’

And Joe zoomed it. The picture was slightly blurred. Whatever it was, ran. And pixilation made it hard to distinguish. “Bigfoot?” Joe scratched his head then his eyes widened. “Bigfoot.” He shook his head and picked up the phone. “Hey, Danny, listen. See if you can find Christopher and see if he morphed again.”

“I thought he was cured of that,” Danny said.

“I did to. But I think he got aroused and is running around Bowman.”

“I’ll get on that right away.”

“Thanks.” Joe hung up and brought his coffee to his lips as he locked in on that picture. “Well, if you aren’t Bigfoot or Christopher Columbus. What the hell are you?”

****

The search party was small, and so was the area they had to cover.

Eight of them spread about the field, walking, calling out, ‘Private Williams’

Elliott hoped that the young man merely wandered and got lost. But his instinct wasn’t saying that, and that fear was doubled with the panicked call of his name.

“Sgt. Ryder!” The young private called. “Sgt. Ryder. Oh God!”

With a quick shift of his eyes from his horse, Elliott saw a search party member staring down. With a quick yank of the reins, Elliott trotted his way, and dismounted.

“What’s going on?” Elliott asked.

“Please, please tell me this isn’t . . . oh my God.” The young private pivoted, raced a few feet away and violently regurgitated.

With slight trepidation, Elliott walked to where the private was. The tall overgrown foliage kept him from seeing anything.

A few steps closer and Elliott saw.

On the ground was a huge puddle of blood. More disturbing than the sight of that was what looked like the gutted remains of an animal.

“Tell me that’s an animal’s remains. Please.” The private said.

Within seconds others gathered, and had the similar reaction.

Another solider asked “Did someone gut a deer?”

Elliott crouched down, his fingers moved to the blood. It was tacky, semi fresh. The odor was sour and though he wasn’t an expert, he was certain the intestines were human remains.

“God there’s hair. Tell me that’s not hair.” Someone shouted.

“Holy shit that’s his bandana.”

“Bartley!” Elliott called out. “Grab a sack and carefully bag these remains.”

“But Sergeant.”

“Do it.”

“But . . .”

“It’s an order.” Elliott released a short whistle, singing his rifle forward with a wave of his hand. “Holmes, Stuart, follow me.” He looked quick to Bartley. “Take the remains and the other four men back to camp. Tell the Captain what you found and where we are.”

“Sgt. Ryder.” Bartley questioned. “Where are you going?”

Elliott motioned in a point using his chin. Through the high grass was a path. A path smeared with blood. “To where whatever it was dragged him. Let’s go.”

He led the way, eyes on the scope of his weapon the entire time.

“What did this?” Stuart asked.

“I don’t know. Keep on your toes.” Elliott shifted left to right.

“It took him in the woods.”

Holmes added. “It gutted him like a deer. With precision.”

“I know.”

The woods were a few yards ahead. Elliott felt an answer would lie there.

“Don’t tell us to split up,” Holmes said.

“I don’t plan on it.”

Stuart sniffed loudly. “Do you smell that?”

“Yes, smoke.” Elliott stopped walking and looked around. “There.” He pointed to a small clearing up ahead of them.

He led the way.

“Do not lower your weapons,” Elliott instructed, taking a deep breath as they entered what clearly as a campsite.

“Oh my God.” Stuart groaned.

“Do not lower your weapons!” Elliott instructed hard, swallowing the lump in his throat. “We have to let the captain know about this.”

There was a whine to Holmes’s tone, a sad whine. “Don’t tell me. Savages?”

“I doubt that very much,” Elliott said. “Savages do not carefully extinguish fires. This fire was put out so as not so spread.” Elliott looked at the make shift fire pit, blinking hard. “They don’t build rotisseries and carefully gut their hunt.” He caught glimpse of Stuart and Holmes through his peripheral vision. “Do not lower your weapons . . . .”

Grunt.

The thick, snorting grunt, precluded the thud and the vibration to the ground

Before Elliott could even comprehend what was happening, a whoosh of hair, and Stuart screamed.

Elliott prepped his weapon, turned to see a dark blur flash before him, and a splash of blood flew his way.

“Sgt. Ryder. What is . . .” Holmes screamed and his body hurled through the air, landing at Elliott’s feet.

A split second, that’s all it was. A split second to glimpse down, and Elliott’s rifle was batted from his grip.

Another growl, Elliott sensed it, caught whatever it was, large and beastly in his peripheral vision. Quickly he grabbed for his sword, ejected it outward in the direction of whatever it was.

Another snort, gave him aim, Elliott saw it. He swore he saw it. And with everything he had, all of his strength he revved back, and with a charging motion, struck forth his sword in a spearing fashion.

It was like hitting a thick wall.

The vibration of the strike, shook through Elliott’s being and a growling scream rang out, followed by what seemed some sort of language being babbled.

Bewildered, Elliott looked to his hand, which still held the sword. He didn’t have time to see if and how much it penetrated. His eyes cased upwards only briefly.

That’s all the chance he had.

A thick arm struck down at him, careening into the side of his head.

Everything went black as Elliott slammed into the ground.

“So this is what you’re thinking?” Hal asked Frank.

“It makes sense,” Frank replied. “Robbie and I want to look for this thing.”

“But you aren’t sure what it is.”

“All I know is I caught the scent of it.”

“That’s some scary, shit.” Hal turned to Robbie. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s scary shit, but we can’t rule it out.” Robbie said. “If we do, what if something really bad happens.”

“And if this thing,” Frank added. “Is from 1500 years in the future. They evolved and have technology, who knows what they are capable.”

“Hold on.” Hal raised his hand. “How? If they evolved that means they took over the world. How did they get that out of control?”

Robbie answered. “When Dean went through the Aragon window he said they were battling them. Maybe him or Roy knows why they were out of control, how they got that way.”

“Simple. They repopulated and beat us,” Hal said. “Let’s face it, Frank discovered that nest. They reproduce at astronomical rates.”

“Perhaps it’s time, we stop this now.” Robbie suggested. “Like Dean suggested, kill the Killer Babies.”

“Uh!” Frank shrieked. “You can’t kill them. Kill the Pubes, yeah.”

“Maybe it’s the Pubes that start it.” Robbie shrugged. “Or this evolved thing that came through.”

Hal shook his head. “We don’t even know if that’s true.”

“Captain Slagel! Captain Slagel!” Bartley rode full speed directly into town.

“Something’s wrong,” Hal stated.

“How do you know?” Frank asked.

“I sent him and the others on a search party.”

Bartley arrived, and dismounted his horse with haste. “Captain.”

“Did you find Private Williams?”

Bartley nodded. “Sgt. Ryder sent me back with this to get help. He is pursuing.”

“Pursuing what?”

“Whatever did this to Private Williams.” He handed Hal the sack.

Hal opened the sack, he winced and grew pale. “Sgt. Ryder is pursuing whatever did this to Williams?”

Bartley nodded.

Robbie and Frank looked in the bag.

After a shift of his eyes to Robbie, Frank grabbed the reins of the horse. “Hal, where were they searching?”

Bartley answered. “The field two miles north. Just stay on this road.”

Frank nodded. “Mount up Hal. Robbie get the truck. Get weapons. Two more men, no more.”

“Frank?” Hal questioned. “Do you think . . .?”

“Yeah, and Ryder’s out there.” With a quick mount of the horse, and a snap of the reins Frank rode off.

“Robbie, did our brother just ride that horse?”

“I believe he did.”

“A single nod and a ‘Let’s go’ from Hal, both brothers were quick to initiate Frank’s instructions.

****

Frank wasn’t really catching any scent until he almost at full speed, passed the puddle of blood. He jumped from the horse, crouching down some to examine the blood. As his eyes scanned and saw the path, he sniffed.

Slowly rising, Frank caught the sound of arriving horses.

He lifted his hand to halt them.

“Good God.” Hal arrived. “I’ll assume that’s the path Elliott followed.”

“I would.”

“Frank?” Robbie asked. “Smell anything?”

“Yep. Past scent. It was here.”

Hal spoke of the blood path. “Whatever dragged Private Williams wasn’t a Killer Baby.”

“Or Toddler,” Robbie added. “Or even Pube. Maybe two of them, but that grass is stained. It moved him fast. Faster than two of them can carry him.”

“I don’t feel right about making my men go into this,” Hal said.

“Neither do I,” Frank replied. “Tell them to stay back. You, me, and Robbie, will go.”

“Can we handle it?” Hal asked.

“Sure.” Frank said. “I don’t see why not.”

“Me either,” Robbie added. “I mean, Frank’s one of them. Or part.”

“Maybe it’s not a cannibal,” Hal stated. “Won’t eat its own kind.”

“Yeah, it will.” Frank said. “We aren’t its own kind, just a variation. Let’s go.”

Hal instructed his men to stay back and wait, while he and Robbie went with Frank on the same path that Elliott Ryder had taken earlier.

They were nearly at the campsite when Frank stopped his brothers.

“Is it here?” Robbie asked.

“No. But it was. Scent is here. Not fresh.” A nod of his head and Frank pushed forward. He didn’t need to instruct his brothers on what to do. He also didn’t need to say anything more than a simple, ‘Fuck’ to alert what he saw.

Hal rushed forward ahead of Frank to his downed man. “Oh My God.” Stuart’s throat had been slashed open in a grisly manner. The young soldier lay motionless in a puddle of blood.

“Why didn’t he eat him?” Hal questioned. “He simply killed him. Two?”

Frank shook his head. “Threatened, defense, who . . . Ryder.”

Hal saw the turn of Frank’s head. He didn’t see Elliott, he saw Holmes.

Robbie was the first to respond. “Dead. Neck broken.”

Hal closed his eyes. His heart dropped.

“Ryder’s fine!” Robbie called out. “Ok, maybe not fine. Fine. But not dead. Dude, your head is fucked up.”

With Frank, Hal hurried to Robbie, where he stood checking out Elliott.

“Elliott,” Hal crouched down. “Can you hear me?”

“The other guy, no blood.” Frank called out. “Looks like he was thrown.” He walked over and joined Hal. “Ryder.”

Elliott’s eyes fluttered. “I’m not dead.”

“If you are,” Hal smiled. “And you see my brother, you’re in hell. No, you aren’t dead.”

“I failed.” Elliott closed his eyes.

“No, you did not. You’re alive. How you managed that, I don’t know,” Hal said. “Right now you need medical attention.”

“Ryder?” Frank lifted the sword. “Did you try to kill this thing?”

“Yes,” Elliott answered weakly.

“Well, you may not have killed it, but whatever it was . . . you got it good.” Frank showed him the sword. The first four inches covered in blood and a thick substance.

****

What was that weapon, Chaka wondered. It was sharp and long, and ancient. It was like nothing he had ever seen. They had weapons like that in his world, similar. But it was unique.

And the primal who used it on him was strong and skilled.

As if he knew exactly what to do.

For a creature that moved slowly, the male primal was quick and Chaka couldn’t stop it.

He wanted to kill the primal, behead it. But not only had the injury stopped him from doing so, but the warrior ethics did. A code set forth by his forefathers.

When an enemy ran, showed fear, did not fight, he is no opponent. He has no right in battle.

But when an enemy smaller and weaker shows might, courage and fight, one must battle the enemy without disadvantage.

Meaning fight for fight, but if you are beginning to lose, pull out all stops.

That was what Chaka was taught.

Right now, Chaka’s midsection bled badly. His second set of organs were damaged and for repair he had to stop. Stop. Rest. Heal.

Three rising moons.

His stomach was full from his feast the evening earlier, although he’d still need nourishment, he’d make do with the foliage and small creatures.

Until he had healed. He needed to hide out.

Before doing so, he made sure he no longer was losing any blood, blood that would leave a trail to him.

He could not take a chance in his weakened state.

He was certain, the small but fearless primal, upon awakening would seek him out. Chaka would do the same if it were he.

****

It was a meeting, small, and held in Bowman for once, in regards to the incident in the field.

Hal placed a ‘Gag’ order on all his men until he could sort things out. Panic surely would ensue and that wasn’t what he wanted.

Only a few people knew about what occurred, and Hal would know exactly where to go to finger the blame.

Even Elliott’s injury was being labeled a ‘fall’.

Hal, Dean, and Roy waited on Frank’s return.

He didn’t seem hopeful when he arrived.

“The blood trail stopped,” Frank said. “It was pretty steady. He obviously didn’t want us finding a trail. Scent gets thin, too. I can try to track it, my guess its hurt pretty bad. How’s Elliott?”

Dean answered. “Fractured skull. Will be fine though, no damage to the brain or swelling that we can see. He said he stabbed it in the gut.”

Roy winced. “If that is the case, then it will heal in a few days. You know why Dean.”

Dean nodded. “They have two sets of internal organs.”

“Fuck.” Frank bit his lip. “But he got it. So that tells me this thing can die. How was he able to penetrate the skin if this is a LEP?”

Dean shrugged. “Probably evolution made them less vulnerable to the elements. My God, Frank, we’re talking a thousand years.”

“Ok.” Robbie held up his hands. “Let’s go over what we know and we can assume through knowledge about this thing. Now, Roy, you said a few days to heal? Does that mean it’s vulnerable?”

Roy shook his head. “No. It will hide to heal. It will still be able to fight. Vulnerable to an extent. Then again, Robbie, I know nothing about the LEP’s that far into the future. The LEP’s I know of are only a hundred years from now, they were just beginning to think, and were mostly instinctual.”

Hal added. “This one is intelligent and civilized.” He shunned the surprised looks. “I’m very serious. Elliott said, from what he recalled it wore clothing. This thing hunted my man. Gutted him, dragged him, built a fire pit and roasted him on the pit before eating him.”

“With seasoning,” Roy stated.

Dean backhanded him. “Why did you bring that up?”

“It’s part of the story. It is true.”

“They seasoned him?” Frank asked. “With what?”

“What does it matter?” Hal asked.

“I guess it doesn’t.”

“It does,” Dean said. “Just that fact that they seasoned him tells me this thing is very civilized. Perhaps doesn’t even have the means to survive outside too long. Keep in mind, the LEP of our time and twenty years from now, didn’t roast its dinner, they ate it raw.”

“As did the LEP of my time,” Roy stated.

“This is fucked up,” Frank said. “How the fuck did this happen. How did they get so civilized?”

“A thousand years of practice,” Hal said. “What is very scary is if this thing gets a hold of our Killer Toddlers and Pubes, what can it teach it?”

“Not much,” Roy stated. “I don’t believe their brains have evolved enough to learn and comprehend for too long. I may be wrong. “

“You’re not,” Dean said. “The Killer Pubes. LEP’s a hundred years from now. They aren’t too far on the family tree from the Killer Toddlers of now.”
Hal tilted his head. “How is that possible?”

“The Aragon Window reason,” Robbie whispered.

Dean nodded. “Exactly. I mean, I can speak for my experience. The LEP’s were out of control because an LEP had sex with a human woman, causing a virus which made them sterile.”

“Same here,” Roy said. “The virus was passed to partners through body fluids. Problem is, thank you to the House of Lesbians, woman to woman relations were very common early on. Before the female population increased, women found solace and comfort in another woman believing they were true in their intimacies. Hence, the spread of the sterile virus.”

“Which led you, Frank,” Dean said. “Or some scientist to uncover the old embryos. They weren’t marked enhanced and you impregnated women.”

“Another population explosion of LEP’s.” Roy said. “Dean cured the virus in the Aragon Window, but he did not cure it in my history. Billy did. Dean had died during the Great War. But the virus was the same, and Joe authorized the embryo implantation. Your Killer Babies Frank were killed in the Great War. Poisoned.”

“Wait. Wait.” Hal interjected. “If Frank’s Killer Babies were killed in the Great War. How did an LEP have sex with a human woman?”

Frank answered that. “Marcus. It had to be Marcus. So now we have more trouble. My Dad is not around, the Great War will not take shape the way it was. My babies live, breed, population out of control, and ahead of the game because you, Roy, know the cure to the virus.”

“Exactly.”

“Holy shit,” Robbie murmured. “Do you guys realize what bringing Dean to the future did? He halted his own death, therefore saving my dad, therefore, eliminating Frank as president during the Great War, Killer Babies don’t die, Roy comes through the time machine, the time machine brings... never mind this is far too confusing for me.”

Hal suggested, “Can’t we just kill the Killer Toddlers, and Pubes, won’t that just make the 1,000 year old LEP vanish.”

“Fuck, Hal, this isn’t Back to the Future.” Frank said then turned to Roy. “Would that work?”