Delta Outpost

Chapter 6

"Fucking hell!" Ashton shouts.

There are seven of us left at the convoy. Aston, Terry, and two members of the security team along with Peyton, and me. Everyone else is out scouting the jungle. The stone-covered creature lifts its left leg and slams it down again, causing the ground to tremble. Terry tries to drag himself backward on his elbows, but he's obviously injured from the fall. The creature casts its gaze down at him. Low grumbles rise from its throat with each exhale. It steps again, turning its body towards him.

"Terry, get out of there!" Ashton says. The poor man can barely move. Even from a distance, I can see the fear in his eyes. The creature's right hand descends, its claw-like fingers piercing into the soft earth all around him. He screams. It lowers its head towards him. My heart pounds against my chest. We have no idea what this thing is or what its intentions are. When the creature lifts its hand again, they become clear.

The sharp appendages come down again, but this time the middle one pushes through Terry's torso. An eruption of blood flows from the wound and his mouth as he convulses.

"No!" I scream.

"Open fire!" Ashton orders. The rest of the security team draws their rifles and the air is filled with the red streaks of laser blasts. I'm awestruck. The beams strike the rock-like hide of the creature, causing no injury save for tiny, blackened spots. It roars and shifts to the left. Terry's body slides off the sword-like finger and soars into the front of the lead truck near Ashton. He flinches but keeps firing.

Don't panic, Robbie

I hear dad's voice in my head. I don't want him to call me that, but none of my memories are tied to him calling me Reyna. Visions of the past fill my mind. It was a hiking trip back on Earth. I was about eleven, I think. Dad, Vernon, and I were in the Appalachian Mountains. We were off the trail, looking for a place to set up camp when we came across a bear. I was frozen, my heart pounding as hard as it is now, and my hands limp at my sides.

"Dad, shoot it!" I whispered loudly. He had a pistol at his side. It was always with him when we went out into the woods.

"That's an act of panic, boy," he responded calmly. "Starnes men are calm under pressure."

"But, it's gonna kill us!" Vernon exclaimed.

"Is she?" he questioned. There was always a low grumble when he talked. He'd quit smoking a few years back, but not before the habit left a lasting, gravelly tone to his voice. "Be still, observe, and learn. Use those big brains of yours and tell me what you see."

The bear was roughly fifty yards away down a slight slope. Thick, brown fur covered her body. The early fall foliage crumbled under her paws with each step. It moved back and forth, walking a distinct line like a watchman keeping guard. "It looks like she's guarding something, "I said.

"What would she be guarding?" he asks.

"Home?" Vernon questioned.

"And where is that?"

"How would we know?" I responded. My eyes were still locked on the pacing bear, but the conversation had calmed my nerves a bit.

"Pay attention and you'll know."

I focused harder. There was a cluster of boulders at the base of a cliff another sixty yards or so past where the bear stood. Each time she turned she looks back to the spot. "In the rocks," I said. "Her den is in the rocks."

His hand rested on my shoulder. I still remember how thick the calluses were on his palm. "So why is mama bear out here pacing in front of the den?"