Kraken Rising: Alex Hunter 6 (28 page)

“Whoa! Gentlemen, we have movement.” Timms clapped once, and then there was suddenly a rush of a twilight blue glow filling the screen.

Sulley exhaled, grinning. He turned to Sam. “And we are now in open water.”

*

Hagel froze, just letting his eyes move over the foliage. Did he just hear something, or was his mind just fucking with him again in this weird ass place? He was sure he’d heard something soft and heavy, like someone dragging a sack over wet grass. He turned slowly. Maybe he was just spooking himself?

There was nothing now – no cricket chirrup, no birdcall, or even the rustle of a breeze in this fucked up ghost jungle. If not for the odd drip of water, and his own breathing, he might have thought he’d gone deaf.

Hagel was following a trail of sorts, but the ground was squashy soft, covered in thick moss and lichen. There were soupy looking puddles everywhere, and everything stunk like bad mushrooms. He continued on, carefully placing one foot in front of the other. He could just make out the others about fifty feet back. Franks was keeping them relatively silent, but still the sound of their movement carried.

Hagel came to a bend in the trail at an enormous fallen tree – its trunk easily five feet around. He paused, listening. There was more dripping. He pulled his scope down over his eyes, switching from light enhance in the twilight atmosphere to thermal. There was a ton of background heat, but mostly everything was cold as the grave. He scanned slowly, stopping as something just off to the left showed a flare of warmth. He approached and noticed a spattering on the ground. Closer now, he saw more spattering on the trunks of the trees. He let his eyes travel upwards, higher to the broad fronds towering overhead, and then switched his scope to distance enhance.

“Fuck me.”

He gritted his teeth and began to back up when he paused, turning to the line of the jungle. He frowned, seeing a natural tunnel formation within the undergrowth. There was something in there.

“Oh you gotta be shittin’ me.”

He retreated silently and quickly. He soon found Franks and held up a hand flat – the group halted. He motioned for just Franks to follow, and then the pair burrowed back through the undergrowth.

Hagel worked along the trail again, cautiously, and then found the huge tree, which he leaned against. Franks eased in beside him.

“I think we just found the rest of Dawkins.” He motioned with his head towards the treetops.

Casey Franks used her hand scope to scan the canopy. About fifty feet up there was a body, or rather a torso, stripped naked, no head or arms, but still dripping blood.

Hagel watched her as she gazed at the body. A low growl started deep in her throat.

“It’s dogging us,” she said.

“Yep, that’s what I figure.” He nudged her. “And that’s not all. Look in there …”  He pointed one grimy, gloved finger to the tunnel in the undergrowth.

Casey moved her scope, flicking it to light enhance to improve the illumination within the dark space. Hanging just inside was one of their laser rifles.

“Blake’s,” she said. “Suicide trap.”

“This is too fucked up,” Hagel said. “Gotta be the Chinese. No fucking animal is going to do this.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She pulled back.

Hagel watched her go, and then turned back to the jungle. His scalp prickled. He had the feeling something was watching, waiting, just past the first line of ferns, willing him to enter the undergrowth cave.

“Not today, motherfucker.” He backed away, gun up.

Shenjung Xing felt himself grabbed and dragged through warm water. He blinked, his eyes gritty and stinging, but still not focusing properly. His stomach convulsed, and coughing, he emptied about two pints of water from his gut, before he was cast up onto an embankment.

“Good, get it all out.” Captain Yang stood over him.

Shenjung moaned and rubbed at his eyes, wiping out grit. He blinked, restoring his sight this time.

“Where …?” He sat up, and saw some of the soldiers nearby. There were ten, about half of Yang’s original squad. Only one other was on his feet, the giant, Mungoi.

Yang turned to sit beside him, picked up a twig, and looked out over the river as it wended its way out of sight. “My men are gone.” He nodded, still watching the water. “The flow is strong, and if they were unconscious they would have been swept away.” He flicked the twig into the water. “More food for the worms.”

Shenjung suddenly remembered and turned over, jamming fingers down his throat, and gagging up more water and bile.

Yang laughed. “Too late now, Doctor.” He slapped Shenjung’s back. “But I think we are okay; the water was moving too fast for them to get to us.”

Shenjung flopped onto his back, wiping one hand over his sticky mouth. “Where are we? Did we make it out?”

“Out of the caves? Yes. But
out-out
 …”  Yang motioned to the cliff wall, towering a half mile behind them, which then kept rising to touch a ceiling. “No, we are still in a cave. We fell, washed from up there.” He motioned upwards.

Shenjung followed his hand. A hundred feet up from the ground, a torrent of water poured forth, slowing now that the deluge was being exhausted.

“The missing men, will we look for them?” Shenjung asked.

Yang glanced again at the surging water. “No.” He got to his feet, and reached into a pouch to pull out his signal tracker. “Each man has a device like this one. If they are alive, they’ll know where we are going, and they will join us. We cannot spend any more time down here.”

“And if they are hurt?” Shenjung asked.

“Then they have a new home.” Yang checked his tracker.

Shenjung pushed wet hair back off his face. He knew there was nothing he could say which would change the PLA captain’s mind. He got unsteadily to his feet, wiped his face, and then looked around.

“So big, so … fantastic. It’s a forest, under the Earth.” He turned slowly.

“And now, all Chinese territory,” Yang said. “The Antarctic Treaty covers the continent’s surface. But down here is no one’s territory. So it all belongs to us.” Yang lifted his head high. “I claim this land in the name of the People’s Republic of China.” He saluted, and then turned to grin at him. “Good day’s work, huh?”

“Maybe you can be king.” Shenjung turned away.

Yang leaned back, looking skyward. “Yes, and my new kingdom even has light.”

Shenjung looked up at the twinkling stars in the dark blue heavens above them. “No, this is an illusion,” he said softly. “We’re still trapped in a cave … just a bigger one. I wish to see the light, real sunlight, one more time, Captain.”

Yang grunted. “Enough dreaming.” He read from his tracker. “We’re not far from the source of the signal.” He looked up again briefly. “At least we can preserve our batteries on our way to the sub.”

“Small gifts,” Shenjung responded.

Yang turned to bark at his men. They got to their feet, some slowly. Their suits were sodden and ripped. Many were hunched with fatigue.

“Mungoi will lead us out.” He pointed to where the far cave wall stopped at an endless dark sea. “That way.”

Shenjung looked skyward one more time.
Sunlight, fresh air, and my Soong. Please be up there safe and waiting for me
, he silently prayed, and then followed the soldiers.

*

“Something.”

Yang nodded to his scout, and turned to wave his remaining men down. He drew his revolver and followed.

Hung Balin was his latest scout. He was a good soldier – solid, trustworthy, even if not so brilliant. Already one of the previous scouts had gone missing. Perhaps he’d wandered too far ahead and got lost in the chaotic tangle of weird plants, some with poisonous looking barbs, stinging sap, or vines that refused to let go.

Though the jungle around them was deathly silent, Yang couldn’t escape the feeling that they were being watched, followed by something that was always close by, sliding silently and just out of sight.

“Hung, what did you see?” Yang eased up closer to the man, crouching now, and slowing as his soldier did.

The soldier turned, but there was a hint of confusion in his eyes. “I saw something … I couldn’t see clearly at first. But then it became a person … one of the engineers, I think.”

Yang frowned. “Impossible. One of those we left in the higher caves? How did they get down here so quickly?”

Hung shook his head and continued to burrow through the undergrowth as Yang followed. It started to make sense –
this
is who had been following them – the engineers. They had been too scared to join them, but also too scared to be by themselves. Yang’s chin jutted. They’d certainly feel his wrath when he caught them, he thought.

Hung led him to an opening in the undergrowth, with a small muddy pond at its center. The place was no more than twenty feet around, and almost totally overgrown to give the appearance of a dark green cave. The soldier turned and placed a finger to his lips. He waved Yang on and crept forward.

A man was standing perfectly still on the other side of the pond. He wore the familiar gray coveralls of the engineers, and was in the water. Yang frowned,
no, not in the water
. It looked like he was
on top
of the water.

“One of our engineers, but he doesn’t move or acknowledge me. Maybe he is in shock,”  Hung said softly.

Yang snorted. “Go and get him, bring him back for questioning. I want to know how he got here and where the others are.”

Hung nodded sharply, his expression brightening as if he were happy to have some concrete orders to carry out. He got to his feet as Yang started to ease backwards.

Captain Yang turned away and only took a few paces, when he heard a grunt and the thud of an impact. Looking back quickly, he saw Hung and the engineer in some sort of embrace. He groaned, thinking that either his soldier was overreaching in his orders to bring the man in, or perhaps the befuddled engineer was fighting back out of fear.

While he watched, he saw Hung, who outweighed the smaller engineer by at least fifty pounds, struggle for a moment more. There came a tiny sound that could have been a whimper of pain or fear, and then the larger PLA soldier was yanked from his feet to disappear into the thick foliage.

“Huh?” Yang blinked, not understanding what he was seeing. How could that little fart of a man overpower and drag away the bigger Hung? He spat in disgust and crawled forward quickly, following both men into the deeper undergrowth.

The stink was the first thing that assailed him – the stink, the slime that covered everything, and the fresh path through the foliage. He followed quickly and then when it opened out, he stood.

His soldier, Hung, was there, or what was left of him. He also guessed he might have found his other missing scout, as there were too many body parts for just one man. Hanging in the trees like some sort of macabre decorations were strips of flesh, arms, legs, and the trunk of a torso, impaled on a sharp branch. Blood dripped down onto the ground where it mixed with the mud to create a bubbling red-brown soup.

Yang felt his testicles shrivel and he tightened his fingers around his gun.
What had that little freak done to his men?
The stench in the small clearing made his eyes water. It smelled of ammonia, blood, bowel contents and crushed plants. He lifted an arm across his mouth and nose.

A flicker of movement in the corner of his eye caused him to spin, his gun up and heart hammering. The engineer stood silently in the shadow of a huge tree trunk. His expression was totally devoid of emotion, as if the mutilation laid out before him didn’t exist.

“What have you done?” Yang whispered.

The figure edged forward, strangely, in a gliding manner like that of a ghost. The engineer looked wet, glistening, his eyes unfocused. He glided another few inches closer.

Yang took a step back. “Oh no, you don’t.” He took another step. “This is a trick.” He eased back another few paces, and then turned and ran.

Alex Hunter lifted his pace, forgetting about Cate, forgetting about anything that might have been lurking in the blue-lit undergrowth. He now knew that the Chinese were in the cave system – they’d be going for the
Sea Shadow
. He
must
get there first.

He also felt a growing awareness of something far more familiar – he had sensed the presence of a HAWC team for hours. He should have known that Hammerson wouldn’t just send him in alone.

Strangely, he sensed another connection that both exhilarated and confused him.
It couldn’t be
, he thought. She wouldn’t …
he wouldn’t
. Alex pummeled the undergrowth. Hammerson wouldn’t dare send her. Anger flared and he swung out an arm, smashing a tree trunk from his path. She wouldn’t come, she wouldn’t leave Joshua by himself. It was impossible.

He’s not by himself. You know she has someone else with her now
. The whispered voice in his head sounded amused at his torment. Alex gritted his teeth, accelerating. Another trunk bared his way, and he lowered a shoulder, striking it hard, making the stump splinter away into the undergrowth. He tried to shut out the voice, its words, not wanting to acknowledge the truth.

Maybe now, he even calls him
 …
father.
 A corrosive laugh.
Joshua doesn’t need you, doesn’t even know you. No one does anymore. You’ve been a ghost for years.

Alex ricocheted off another huge tree trunk, not concentrating on his track. He placed a hand to his bloody face, wiping the stinging liquid from his eyes, blinded for a moment, and not seeing the sinuous scaled head rising up in the undergrowth.

The giant snake shot forward, striking Alex from the side, and gripping his body in its alligator sized mouth around the torso and one arm. The massive diamond shaped head was two feet across and was attached to a dark scaled body that still trailed forty feet into the foliage.

Alex was carried backwards from the impact to slam hard into one of the hairy Prototaxite trunks, dropping polypy fronds down on top of him. Though the ancient snake was incredibly powerful, its inwardly curved teeth were relatively small, and used for gripping rather than venom delivery. Alex’s suit stopped the fangs from penetrating his flesh, but the danger was from the enormous body now piling in the undergrowth. If it managed to coil around his chest, the muscular body would easily crush the air from his lungs.

Easily distracted means easily killed.
The voice was contemptuous this time.

Alex felt an enormous pressure building from the creature’s mouth, but also inside his own head –
frustration, impatience, and raw fury
– he had no time for this. He reached up with his free arm and grabbed one side of the huge mouth, lifting and opening the huge jaws, and then ripped his other arm free. The black, glass-like eye displayed no surprise, nor fear, or even concern, it only reflected back Alex’s own twisted features in those soulless depths.

Alex pulled back one arm, his teeth bared, and then punched down with all the strength he could gather. His fist exploded through the snake’s eye, and on into its skull to then embed in the brain. Its mouth immediately sprung open, and the huge body and tail thrashed behind it as Alex held the head aloft to momentarily snarl into its dying face before throwing it aside and charging on again.

Faster, he needed to move faster. He reached out, his senses ballooning forward in a wave. He felt the multiple bodies, their hearts racing, the tangy smells of sweat and blood mixed with fear. The Chinese, they were far ahead; beating him to the submarine.

Kill them all. They were your orders
.

“Kill them all,” he repeated. His anger was boiling within him, his body now so hot. Even in the humid air, the moisture on his suit was rising from him as steam. He pushed his senses out again, but before he could get a lock on any one person he detected something else – a huge presence, a monstrosity with a malevolent intelligence, moving quickly and silently, rolling and tumbling, and flowing like liquid. He sensed its hunger, but also something more – its enjoyment.

Your old friend is still here. It’s been waiting for you.
The voice became caustic.
Don’t run away this time.

“
Wait!”
He barely heard Cate as she yelled after him. She was a long way back now, sprinting hard, but never hoping to keep up with him. She at least had the benefit of being able to move along the tunnel he was bullocking through the growth.

Alex put his head down. He was a dark blur smashing through the jungle – one monster pursuing another.

*

Captain Yang moved his men into the stand of gnarled and ancient looking trees. He pointed to each man, and then had them positioned where he wanted. Some in the canopy, some concealed in among low foliage, and some even pulling mats of lichen up over themselves. He grunted his satisfaction. His PLA were masters of natural camouflage.

His rear scouts had picked up the approach of the Americans a while back, and he eagerly awaited their arrival. He and his men seethed with hatred and a desire for vengeance. He had told them of the taken scouts, and of their bodies found mutilated, portions of them hung like grisly trophies in trees or impaled on low branches. The Americans were playing a gruesome trick on them; they were evil, and he would treat them accordingly.

“We should talk to them. I know Americans, and they would not have done this.” Shenjung tugged at his sleeve, but Yang pulled his arm free.

“You know nothing. American war games are both physical and psychological.”

“War games?” Shenjung shook his head. “No, you are the one making war. I must warn you, I will be compelled to report any … crimes.”

Yang studied the man for several seconds, seeing the waver of fear in his eyes. He leaned in close to his face.

“Comrade Shenjung, you are not at home in your comfortable office anymore. Down here, all authority resides with me. Down here I am both law and punishment. For them,
and
you. Conceal yourself; that is an order.” He pushed the man into the undergrowth.

Yang then walked to stand in the center of a flattened area of the jungle, with his back turned to the trail. He would be the bait at the end of a fifty-foot killing zone.

He concentrated – the silence in this strange world was unnerving, but now, it meant the slightest sound was magnified. The Americans were coming, close now. He smiled, unholstered his gun, stuck it in his belt, and then unzipped his fly. He waited a few moments until they were there, and began to urinate, slowly, making the stream last. He began to sing softly.

*

Rinofsky saw that Hagel had stopped, holding up a fist. He and the group halted, and waited as Hagel then turned to lift a single finger, and then waved them down.

The group crouched low and only Casey Franks eased up to join him. Hagel remained silent, just using two fingers to point at his eyes and then into the jungle at about ten o’clock. Casey followed his prompt, and then nodded, and then turned to point at Big Ben Jackson and Rhino and then out to two o’clock. She then sent Hagel and Blake out to nine.

Rhino and Jackson were first into position, staring at the PLA soldier ahead. Jackson leaned in close to Rhino.

“That’s horrible,” he whispered.

“Keep it down.” Rinofsky scowled, but then spoke out of the side of his mouth, leaving his eyes on the target. “So where’ve you been pissing; in your water bottle?”

Jackson grinned. “I meant his voice, it’s horrible.”

Rinofsky groaned and put a finger to his lips. At the end of a small clearing, the Chinese soldier was standing by himself, taking a casual piss as if he was in his own bathroom. A soft tune lifted from him, as he seemed to be enjoying his ablutions.

“Stay here … and stay alert.” Rhino moved along the brush line, and then waited. Across from him, he saw Blake appear, and nod to him, and then hold up a hand. Blake pointed to the other end of the clearing. Casey Franks had stepped out, gun cradled in her arms as she watched the soldier finish up.

Casey stood slightly side-on, legs planted. “Hey,” she said.

The man kept singing, and then jiggled a bit as if he was hiking up his zipper.

“Hey, water boy.” Casey kept her eyes directly on him. “Turn around, real slow.”

The man did neither. Casey half turned. “Blake, tell this guy to drop his cock, and turn around. Tell him that we’re friends, or some other bullshit.”

Blake talked softly, his voice carrying easily in the stillness. He was halfway through speaking when the soldier began to turn. In his hand was something other than his penis.

The small gun spat twice, and then the trees started to rain soldiers. From the canopy overhead, PLA Special Forces dropped down around them. Big Ben Jackson turned, and though he was a formidable soldier, he faced a man even taller than he. The big broad face creased in a gap-toothed grin, and then a leg as thick as a tree trunk shot out in a pile driver blow to strike him in the chest and fling him back into the trees.

Rhino moved to engage. The big HAWC and the bigger Chinese soldier traded rapid blows, and each blocked many. The huge HAWC was far superior to Jackson, and let fly with a single lunge punch that sounded like a mallet on clay. The Chinese giant staggered, but shook a head the size of a watermelon and then gap-grinned again.

He came at Rhino in a spin, a person that big having no right to be so quick and nimble. Rhino blocked the first kick, but a backhanded blow was already rounding on him. The fist that connected with his temple was the size of a dinner plate, and his oversized hands had calluses that were rock hard across the knuckles and palm edges.

Rhino went down on one knee, his head swimming. No one had ever hit him that hard in his life. He knew he was as good as dead. Once you lost focus in combat, for even a split second, the killing blow soon came. In the seconds between consciousness and oblivion, he remembered what Hammerson had said to him when he was recruited – HAWCs didn’t die of old age. Rhino now knew;
HAWCs died like this
.