Displacement Day

CHAPTER 12 - Monster Hunting

"Really Captain?" That was all he could say when told he would not be working overtime to hunt for escaped animals. Ah, another person who things everything is fine, 9-foot centipedes were native to Tennessee. In between other duties out on the road and at the Station, he asked questions instead. The crowds of curiosity-seekers and the bad traffic had almost come to be normal. He was able to learn a few things by talking to people in the department. The fence that had just gone up around town had done nothing to keep various animals from getting out. There had been sightings of two more dog things and another dog torn apart by an unknown animal. He was glad things didn't seem to be even worse. The dog had rigor mortis, so it was probably killed a couple of days before the attack he'd broken up. That was the extent of his knowledge of the weird animals. Everyone who knew anything was either not talking or throwing out a few nuggets. A news story about an unidentified dog-like animal in Humboldt County, it was on Channel 4 in the morning, was more informative than anything else. Something would be seriously wrong or people in charge were incompetent. That's what Robert thought. No one was talking about worm or the dog-like thing. Machete Man was another story. He was still in the hospital have been injured by a piece of jagged metal he'd stumbled into. His injuries were classified as serious, but not life threatening. At least that was the story he got third hand from a Deputy who knew the doctor. He'd asked a few people who should know about the fate of that creature. No mention of the dog-thing supposedly sighted in Humboldt County the day before yesterday. This worried Robert a bit. **** Darren and Chloe started the day with granola cereal eaten dry. They would rely on sunlight except for a couple of hours each night. But they could start the day with some black tea, courtesy of two instant tea packs Chloe had found somewhere. It was the best tea Darren have ever drunk. He stood up to look outside. When he pressed his head to the window and looked north he saw clouds moving in. "Babe, it might rain today!" She joined him and pressed her head against the glass to see. "Fingers crossed!" "Well, we're stuck here for the day with nothing much to do. Shall we find something to do?" "First, work out how to harvest some of the rainwater, and then...we'll see." Unfortunately, no rain fell before the sun set. Just to be sure, Darren had cracked open a window earlier in the day, so they could hear rain falling. They had no idea what to use for collecting water, except the cake pan and a gallon water jug that Chloe had cut the top off of. They'd be lucky to collect two gallons with that. "However, they could boil water outdoors and maybe figure out how to filter it. Chloe seemed to have fun in mind, and so did Darren but he couldn't focus. The water problem was serious. They could collect rainwater tonight, and maybe some other time. Rainwater in puddles could be boiled outdoors if need be. He wondered if they could make a filter too. That was something they could figure out later. Anyway, Darren heard a few raindrops hit the window about an hour after sunset. "Hey babe. Time to go." He grabbed the Mossberg and the baking sheet. She grabbed the water bottle and a shirt. "Hey, if it rains hard I can clean off this shirt." "Good thinking." A couple of other residents had also put out water containers of various descriptions. It was, in fact, raining. The rain was light now, hardly more than a drizzle. Darren crossed his fingers. "I hope the rain picks up, at least for a while. The water was cool, not cold. And, Darren realized, he hadn't had a real bath or a shower in about nine days. No one had he imagined. One of the neighbors across the street had put a kid's swimming pool out in the driveway. The rain picked up a little. Darren wanted to stand outside and enjoy it, but he also wanted to stay alert, eyes on the sky. Almost before he completed that thought, a dark bird-like shape flew overhead. A second followed, this one silhouetted against moonlight streaming through a small break in the clouds. He hooked to the left and saw a man holding a lever-action rifle. "The local wildlife is trying to take over the place." The man just nodded. Darren noted that he was standing next to a couple of coffee cans that he was obviously using to collect what rainwater he could. Darren noticed something new growing at the north edge of the yard. He would ignore mushrooms and dandelions and all that, except these weren't normal times. "What are they?" He decided the plants were something new, three little purple stalks like broccoli spears had sprouted in an line with about 10 or 11 inches between each. "Shit. The local plants are taking over." The he laughed and went back to retrieve his baking sheet or not. The rain felt good. He had a dry towel waiting in the kitchen. And he guessed the clothes he was wearing needed a good cleaning. A croaking that sounded exactly like a large frog startled him. "Fuck." He gripped the shotgun a little more tightly and looked around. Two more croaks came from the same general direction. "You are slipping. Don't do that again." He paused to check the sky. "What the fuck kind of frog lives around here?" The man with the coffee cans shrugged. "Don't look at me man." Darren went back to studying the sky. A dark bird-like shape passed overhead seemingly appearing at random out of the gloom and disappearing in the same way after a few seconds. **** Pastor Drummond drove to the edge of town and kept going. Darren felt like he was showed a little too much confidence in the little sedan. At this little corner of town someone had turned over the sand and mixed in some rotting plant material. "You think we can create enough farmland in the desert?" Pastor Drummond shrugged. Darren gathered that he was committed to staying here and making things work. This would, should make him more hopeful about farming. Darren also wished he'd gotten Chloe to come along but she decided the people at church needed help. Drummond was reliable, but kind of dull. Anyway, someone needed to check for signs of civilization and people. Darren secretly hoped they would find a road or even a rail line north of Ridgeway but didn't believe there was no chance. "Is it the ground really solid enough?" Drummond seemed to notice. "God would never let me lose this car in something dumb like sugar sand." Darren just nodded. Neither man said anything for a couple of minutes. Darren saw an odd pattern in the sand that looked like parallel lines. "Tire tracks!" Pastor Drummond pointed ahead and slightly to their left. He was right. A pair of tire tracks ran out into the desert. Darren had seen them about the same time. One of the groups that supposedly drove out of town did so and headed this way. It was a small group considering there were only tracks for one vehicle. Probably. The tracks had been broken up by wind and the light rain of a few days ago. "Do we follow the tracks?" They were farther north than he'd ever been at this point perhaps as much as 10 miles. If there was any civilization up this way, it seems like they would have noticed. "We have to, don't we?" Pastor Drummond resumed the drive into the desert. As they passed that first sad little group of bushes, Darren looked, hoping to see something they could use, even a source of water or food. Instead, he saw a hell worm crawling in their general direction. He only got the briefest of glimpses before losing site of it. Then he saw something even more interesting...someone's smart phone. "Did you see that phone Pastor Drummond?' He nodded. "We're on the right track. Literally too." They were. The tracks in the desert were obvious here. Someone had driven the van a little bit further before turning slightly southward. Then the car started bogging down. "Sand's softer here." "Don't get stuck out here." "I won't." The car fishtailed a little and kicked up sand. It was almost like driving on the beach here. Except there was no water in sight and no signs of civilization. "Maybe we should turn around." He could see the tracks ahead, but they had mostly disappeared. "I think we did our best." Pastor Drummond stopped on what looked like a relatively hard patch of sand. "We can park here and continue on foot for an hour or so." They did just that. The tracks almost entirely disappeared about 10 minutes into their walk. This part of the desert looked exactly like the area around Ridgeway except that vegetation seemed a tiny bit less sparse. Darren feared it was wishful thinking. Anyway, fragments of the tracks appeared again. This time in an area where the sand was softer. "Do we continue on foot then or go back?" "We should continue Darren. I want to see that van if possible." Darren sighed and walked. He couldn't just stand here and wait for Drummond to come back. "I hear some people are heading to the town Cat mentioned. You interested?" Darren was interested, but without any specific reason. "Still thinking about it then?" "No." Darren had tried to be more forceful but a regular 'no' is what he coughed up. "Talk your friend, Chloe is it?" "She's on the fence about going north or south or staying. Right now she's leaning toward staying." "Well, I guess you have a day to decide so don't wait too long." Darren had been half thinking, half scanning the surroundings. He didn't expect trouble from the local wildlife or people, but caution seemed in order. "Pastor, you should be paying more attention." A burrow lay 20 feet ahead on the right. This one had been dug under a pile of rocks. This pile looked artificial. "Does that look natural to you Darren?" "No." "Should we investigate or just mark the location?" "We should mark the route than van driver took and mark this." "Then we should get the hell out of here." Darren strongly preferred to be in town and indoors before the sun set in a couple of hours. He and Pastor Drummond kept to themselves during the walk back for the most part. Darren pointed out a new kind of grass, wider and lighter in color than the stuff growing near Ridgeway. "I'm taking a sample." He pulled up a couple of the grasses and stuffed them in his pocket. In all this time they'd encountered maybe four kinds of plants and three kinds of animal all dangerous. No water and no signs of anything resembling modern civilization. Back in the patrol car, he marked their handmade map. Someone had added a few details but it otherwise looked like it had four days ago. Darren added an arrow pointed northeast and labeled "City?" followed by two marks on the southeast, one for the mound and one for the direction the vehicle had apparently traveled They followed the trail for about 10 minutes. The sand and rock gave way to stretches of sand with patches of grass here and there. The wind may have changed direction, coming more from the east than the north. Darren didn't know what to make of that. "We haven't seen anything except tracks which we lost> Let's go back." Darren shook his head. "I feel like we're getting close to something. Let's go on for a few more minutes at least." Pastor Drummond shook his head. "No." He slowed way down and turned the car with care. "Hmm." "What?" "I could swear I smell the ocean." "I felt the wind change direction. Could it be?" Darren didn't believe it. He also didn't know what they would do about an ocean. The town needed food and water. Pastor Drummond turned south and drove back toward Ridgeway. **** The next day, Danny called Charlie and requested a meeting. He wanted to retrieve that portal generator and keep Pastor Drummond out of the loop if that were possible. Charlie agreed and they got together at his house. It was roughly a 10-minute walk. Along the way. Darren encountered Mike, who was siphoning gas out a car. "The owner went into the desert and hasn't come back," he explained. Darren nodded. "Well, do what you need to do." A hole had appeared in another yard. He hoped someone had dug that or pulled up a post or something. More likely, well, there was nothing he could do. The rest of the short walk was surreal. A few days ago, he appreciated the quiet and the veneer of normality. Now, the lack of water was beginning to show in plants turning brown. He though that's what he was seeing. The desert dust had intruded and coated some exposed vehicles with a thin dun-colored layer. Allison greeted him when he reached Charlie's house. They hadn't talked since he came by to pick up the shotgun. "Do you have any more shells available?" He'd forgotten her answer. "I wish," she said. "Charlie said you guys found that portal generator south of town." "We probably did. No one else is taking cars and trucks in the desert. It has to be the van." Charlie came in through the side door. "Hello Darren. I hope this information is as good as I think it is." Darren laid out the map on the dining room table. Allison lit a candle and set in on the table. "So, that guy with the quad-copter drone looked southwest of town and spotted those tracks. It could only be a four-wheeled vehicle, probably a truck or van." Charlie nodded, a little impatiently Darren thought. Had he heard something through grapevine? "Anyway, Pastor Drummond and I followed some tracks about 11 miles by car then about a mile further on foot." He pointed to the notes on his map while he talked. "That was the best we could. Anyway, the van should be a few miles away. Interestingly, that puts in back in Cookeville on Earth. "How do you know the driver just gave up there?" Darren didn't have a good answer to that one. "Well, we assume he either got bogged down in the sugar sand or ran out of gas.' "What if he made it another hundred miles or turned east again? How would you track him down?"**** Negotiations for the town's last working 4x4 went smoothly. The owner, a diesel mechanic named Andy insisted on driving, which was potentially a good thing since he owned a rifle and like to hunt deer. Andy also owned a heavy-duty nylon tow strap, which they might need. The Ford's powerful 7.4-liter V8 might also prove useful. They filled it up with all two gallons of diesel they could find at the Public Safety Center which got the vehicle above ¼ of a tank. Allison had demanded to go, but Charlie smartly pointed out the getting their little vegetable garden going was super important too. Andrew drove, with Darren in the passenger seat, literally riding shotgun as he saw it. His shotgun and Andrew's 30-30 lever action rifle were in the rack in the back window. Charlie, Pastor Drummond, and Andrew's mechanic friend, Wyatt, rode in the back with a can of gasoline and a toolbox. They'd all agreed the best thing was to patch up that van and attempt to drive it back. A few minutes outside of town the prospect of driving a panel van across the desert started to look less and less realistic. Darren realized that he and Charlie had gotten a little bit lucky. Most of the sand was like rock dust or beach sand. There were plenty of packed-down areas in between many of which hosted a few of the scraggly alien plants. Studying the landscape again made him realize things weren't any greener here. It was just like the desert around Ridgeway, at least similar. If they were going to survive the next few months, foraging would take up most of their time. He wondered if the place had seasons. If so, it would be late early November back in Tennessee. If winter came before crops came in...well, they needed to recover that portal generator and use it or most of the townspeople would have to evacuate. "We should shoot one of those hell hounds if we can." Andrew was proving a man of few words. But his comment made sense. They had the opportunity to take one a few minutes later. Tracks crossed the desert just ahead, several pairs. Andrew stopped practically on top of them. The area only had one large, dog-like or cat-like species, that they know of. Darren had no time for speculation. He hopped out before Andrew. "We're going to try our luck at getting one of those hell hounds." Puzzled looks. "So, we can clean it and eat it. We'll be back in town in a couple of hours, maybe three." "Shit, I know we need the meat, but can it wait until the trip back?" Darren didn't know the answer to Charlie's question. Andrew did know. "Those tracks can't be very old. The animals are likely moving out of reach already. If we can't find one and shoot it soon, we miss our opportunity. You want to stay out here at night stalking animals." They'd be stalking us, Darren thought. Charlie and the other two guys nodded. They'd covered the 19 miles from Andrew's place in under an hour. Based on the van tracks, it looked like their mysterious van driver was still on the same course. The tracks were six or seven days old and almost gone. A short side-trip to take some game wouldn't affect that reality either way. They'd need the meat too. Andrew finished loading the rifle and motioned for Darren to follow him. "Grab the hunting knife from my side and come on." Darren did as he was asked. He also grabbed his shotgun. "Stay sharp back there." They walked into the desert where the terrain quickly turned uneven, the grasses bunched in the small depressions and spaces between low sand dunes. The tracks reappeared here and there but the exposed rock and the shifting sands ended any hope of having an obvious trail. Andrew led the way for a minute or so, until they approached a rise, like the one Darren and Chloe had walked to and discovered the oasis. He almost wasn't surprised when he heard grunting noises like he'd heard pigs make as they eat. Andrew looked back at him, chambered a round in the rifle and walked ahead, slowly. Darren followed. Now, there were more pig noises. "Shit!" Andrew raised the rifle. Darren ran up to him, in time to see a group of four hell hounds eating something. It may have been human or human-like. The nearest of the four animals growled and charged. Andrew fired and clearly hit it. The other three creatures had hesitated, but now they charged the two interlopers. The one furthest from them took a shallow, looping route, a third went wide. Darren shot at that one and hit in the shoulder. Andrew chambered another round and backed up. The creature he'd shot slowed to walk but kept coming. The fourth animal rushed straight past the big guy. Andrew shot that one right in the forehead. It groaned and stumbled. The big creature turned and began to run before either of them could get off another shot. "Andrew, I think those two guys are flanking us. The creature Darren had shot was walking, now disappearing behind a cluster of thorn bushes. The animal that Andrew shot continued trotting. It was slower and unsteady now. It was also about 20 feet away before Andrew looked at it; he'd been momentarily distracted by the other three, Darren noticed. Now the wounded creature lunged. Darren fired and hit in the side of the head. This time it lurched forward with mouth open. Andrew wasn't quite fast enough. The creature snapped at his leg as it collapsed, catching his foot. Darren looked around at the other three animals. All were out of sight now. He knew they were probably circling. "How are you doing Andrew?" He glanced over and saw some blood on the hiking shoe. "I think I'll live." Andrew fired a third shot into the prone creature's head. "That looks kind of bad. Shit!" He walked toward Andrew. "Can you help me drag this thing back to the truck?" He looked down at the man's foot. There was a bloody tear in his jeans and a couple of punctures in his foot. "We need to treat that foot. Come on." They had a few first-aid supplies at the truck, but just some bandages and a half-bar of motel soap. Darren reached down to try moving the boar-sized hound. It was just as heavy as it looked so it would be tough for one man to drag it. He'd need to stay on guard in case the other three hell hounds came back. "I think you'll need to help me back to the truck." Darren nodded. Keep that rifle at the ready though. That's what he did. Andrew helped him limp back to the truck. As soon as he could see it they both started yelling. They all came running. "How bad is it, Andrew? Where's the creature?" Darren pointed back the way they'd come. "About half a mile. You can follow the tracks the whole way if you really want to." Wayne helped his friend back to the truck where Andrew removed the hiking boot. Darren huddled up with Charlie and Drummond. "What happened out there is pretty fucking terrifying. I wouldn't go back for that corpse." He explained why. "Are you sure Andrew got that big one though?" "It was fifty feet away. It convulsed when the bullet hit." "Are you sure the others didn't just scatter in confusion?" "No. It just seemed like the two were spreading out, to turn and attack us." "Well, I can't buy it." With that Charlie went back to the truck. Darren and Pastor Drummond followed. What else could they do? Andrew had been leaning on against the passenger door, in the shade. "I think I can still drive. It wasn't that bad. He was in the middle of drying his foot. The blood had come from three puncture wounds in his foot and one in his ankle. None of the holes could've been deep. The hiking shoe and sock lay in the sand, torn up and bloody. Darren looked around. "Let's get the hell out of here and retrieve that van."**** The going was slow, with the tracks disappearing, and not coming back. The group paused long enough to have a little discussion about the van and where it might be. They proceeded, with Wayne and Pastor Drummond standing up to scan the landscape. They entered an area that finally seemed a little greener. It was still about 90% rock and sand but there were more plants and humidity seemed to have gone up, just a little. Darren shrugged off this hopeful idea. "I see it!" It was Pastor Drummond. He was on the right side so Darren immediately looked ahead and on the right. Andrew stopped the truck. "Let's do this." He seemed to be in pain. "Yeah, you might want to sit with the truck." Darren got out and looked up. "You 100% sure?" Pastor Drummond nodded. "How many broken-down vans could be out here." He climbed out of the back along with Wayne and Charlie. "Grab the tools and the tow strap. We want to be ready for both scenarios. Andrew, I'll come back in a few minutes and let you know if we're towing or driving." Andrew nodded. He looked alert, but not too comfortable. They would have to get right to the hospital after securing the van or the portal generator. Pastor Drummond led the way with Charlie just behind and Wayne walking next to Darren. Wayne's 30-06 rifle would come in handy. His shotgun had little effect on those hell hounds and Drummond and Charlie had 9 MM pistols, both likely to worthless if one of those things charged. Darren could see the gray van's roof rising above a small cluster of thorn bushes. The area was sandy, again more like beach sand than packed soil. Darren's stomach knotted up a little. Something wasn't quite right. "Hold up guys, something doesn't feel right." Movement to the right got his attention. Wayne pointed that direction. "Someone's out there!" "Let's move in there and get the van going or unload that thing." Darren started running as he spoke. Wayne followed. Charlie and Pastor Drummond hesitated. "Stay sharp everyone." Pastor Drummond laughed. "No worries." He could already see part of the van's roof and rear. It looked like someone had pulled around the bushes and gotten bogged down. They were close enough now to see most of the van. It looked like it had sunk into the sand at least a few inches.Darren looked around, yet again. Wayne and Charlie were behind him, facing the direction where that person had been watching them. "Did you see tracks heading out this way?" Darren hadn't thought to check. Drummond shook his head. "Maybe the driver took the long way around. "Yep." He pointed at eroded signs of tire tracks. He checked around him. The tracks seemed to go in a semi-circle heading from the back off the truck deeper into the desert. Pastor Drummond was craning his neck, probably to look in one of the windows. They seemed to be darkly tinted, so there wouldn't be anything to see. "Hey, I think I found the driver." He pointed at a body near the front of the van, face down. Darren approached what he assumed was a body, which Pastor Drummond coming up beside him in a few seconds. It was clearly a body, a man with gray hair and a slim build wearing a black windbreaker and dark jeans. "Hey you!" No response of course. Darren moved in close enough to reach out and tap the body with his foot, which is what he did. Stiff and unresponsive. "Yeah, he checked out on us." "Was he the driver you suppose?" "I bet he was, but I never heard a description." Darren walked around the body, between the head and large boulder. "I'm checking inside the van." He tried the passenger door. It opened. "How about that?" Drummond walked around the deceased driver's feet to join Darren at the open door. "Maybe the guy was a writer?" Darren pointed at a journal and pen on the floor, on the passenger side."Oh." Drummond reached into his pocket. "This was on the passenger's side. I saw handwriting on it, so I took it." "Well, let's see then.' Darren walked over while Drummond unfolded the paper. It was hotel stationary from one of the small regional chains. Darren looked over Drummond's shoulder as they read to themselves. "Wow! Normally I'd say the guy was nuts but considering what's happened I can't be skeptical." The letter described a device intended to allow communicator was supposed to allow us to pick up radio signals from a parallel universe or get other EMF readings. He thought so. He wanted to try it out and activated it in the parking lot. When he realized he could not use it again, there was no juice, he panicked and drove into the desert hoping to head northeast to Fort Campbell. The letter was signed 'A Concerned Citizen.' "So, how did this nobody get some secret government technology and drive away with it?""Beats me.""Well, maybe we can restart it somehow?" It came out sounding like a question, because he had no clue how the thing might be powered up. "I don't know. You'd think there would be a battery or something in there."Darren turned to look at the back of the van. "But there wasn't a battery in there. Did he take it and bury it?""How would I know.""What else could it run on?" "Power from the van's engine?""Let's gas it up tomorrow. There must be a little gas to spare somewhere.""Charlie will know.""And what if that wasn't how it operates, off the van?""I guess we're stuck here."Drummond nodded his head. "Unless we can figure out how to work this thing."Darren didn't feel good about their odds. Charlie chimed in. "Who gives a shit. Can we drive that thing out of here?" Drummond reached in to grab it. At the same time, Darren peered over his head into the back of the van. There was a car or truck battery wired to something that looked like a computer CPU, a mini tower with some dark LED lights and no vents or internal disk drives. "What the fuck is that?" Drummond saw it. "Some kind of generator maybe?" "I don't think so. "I'm going around to the driver's side to try the door." When he got there and opened the door – there was just barely enough room between thorn bushes and van to open the door all the way – the first thing Darren noticed was a set of keys on the dashboard. "I think I found the guy's keys." "Well, we found a dead man, a suspicious van, and some weird sci-fi shit in the back. I'm not sure what to do with all this. How about you Pastor?" Pastor Drummond shrugged. "Why don't we try to start the van and drive it back to town." Darren was in the driver's seat reaching for the key before Drummond could say more. Pastor Drummond clambered in as Darren studied the keys. He tried a key. The engine sputtered and died. "Uh oh." He tried again. This time the engine struggled but came to life. "Well, let me try to back us out of here." Darren checked the gas gauge, which was on E. "We'll need that gas, at the very least." Wayne had been carrying the can. He holstered his pistol and went to the filler cap. "Pastor Drummond, you mind watching our right flank while I check this baby out." "As long as we can go somewhere. Where though?" Pastor Drummond answered right away. "The Public Safety Center. I guess." "Done. What should be do with that guy?" "Leave him. We don't have time." Darren felt somber, for just a moment, then he saw Pastor Drummond smiling. "A good pastor never quits on people." Darren backed the van out of the sand, in spite of getting stuck. It would be a nightmare if the thing got stuck in the sand. He turned the van to point it north, hurrying a little because he was excited to have the van and the portal generator. He drove to the relatively hard patch where he and Charlie had parked the day before. The engine was a little rough. Darren didn't have a clue about engines, but it seemed like something was off, but at least the oil pressure was good; he did have enough sense to check that. "Check the portal generator." He didn't know what the check for since none of them could possibly know how it worked. Darren also killed the engine while they took a closer look. Charlie opened the two back doors to provide a little more light. Darren twisted around in the driver's seat to take a closer look. It looked like it did before, except the light was a little bit better, not enough to reveal anything more, as far as Darren could see. It was still incomprehensible. From where he sat, he thought it looked like a coffee maker with a metal ball wedged in the spot where you'd normally put the coffee pot. Why did it look so different though? Pastor Drummond and Wayne poked their noses in the back. "What in the world?" asked Wayne. "That's what we're all thinking. But that coffeemaker looking thing is why we're all here." "Well, it looks like we aren't learning anything new. We should get on the road." Charlie came to ride in the passenger's seat. Wayne and Passenger Drummond hoped in the back crouching near the open doors. "Take it slow." Darren started the van, it hesitated but the engine coughed to life before Darren had a chance to worry. "I hope this thing holds together." It only took a few seconds before they were close enough to see the pickup. Andrew was standing by the driver's door. He turned to face them and waved. Darren waved back. Andrew shook his head and pointed. "What the hell are you pointing at?" They were already close enough for Darren to yell. Andrew got in the truck again. Then he got out with his rifle. Darren stopped next to the truck, with the van facing it. "Wayne and Pastor Drummond..." They were already hopping out. "What's up Andrew?"**** Robert could do nothing but shake his head when the military convoy headed into the desert. They could study everything as closely as they liked using drones. They could use the samples and the eyewitness accounts. Why did three Humvees and a pickup full of various military personnel need to go in and drive around for most of the day? That's what Robert heard in their morning briefing. The fences and gates that went up in a mind-numbing 48 hours were another reason why this big trip seemed like a waste. No one asked him. He was just here to control traffic at a cross street about a quarter mile from the desert. So, that is what he was doing. Traffic was light in mid-morning. Most of the locals and the casually curious had left now. The former group realized they needed to make new long-term plans. The latter had decided there was nothing more to see. Robert hoped the latter group was right. Traffic was minimal and only a few people were wandering about the immediate area. He almost felt like people had adapted to the alien patch of desert. Well, it wasn't too surprising. People had to work, go to class, plan weddings, and all that. Two young men, maybe 18 to 22, approached him from across the street. "Excuse us Officer. We saw something just now." "Go ahead." "We saw a hyena in running in the desert late last night." That reminded him from some chatter at the station last night. Robert had asked a few buddies in the police and Sheriff's office to let him know if they got any information about events in or around Ridgeway. The few tidbits they could provide mostly lined up with things he already knew. Yesterday morning, someone picked up a radio signal possibly coming from inside the desert. That should have been impossible because no one was supposed to be out there, radio or no radio. The he realized the place has been fenced off. No one would tell regular cops like him if the government had poked around in secret. No doubt they would be interested. But would an open CIA channel have any effect on a police scanner? Would it possibly be picked up? Why hadn't anyone talked? Robert had put that second-hand report out of his mind by the end of lunch. Then there was another similar signal. This incidence may have included a voice. Whomever had supposedly heard the voice did not report that, officially. Robert guessed that was a good idea. Hearing ghost voices was a good way to tank your career in this area. Anyway, as soon as lunch time arrived, he had to stay at his post, but he was able to get in his cruiser and there he could call the guy who talked to the guy who heard the supposed radio signal last night. That call went nowhere; Robert had to leave a message. After lunch, almost on the hour, another cruiser arrived. Sergeant Holmes told him to report back to police HQ. Why hadn't he been contacted via radio? "I was told to come out here and relieve you." Being reassigned or whatever, Robert got back in his car and reported that he was on the way back to the station. **** A group of Hell Hounds were out there, three of them, crouching in the rough desert terrain near some grass. They weren't as hard to see as they probably thought they were. "What are they doing?" Darren blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Stalking us? Whatever it is, we can't hang out here. The van's got enough fuel to maybe go 30 miles and we need to cover almost 30 to reach the center of town. Let's get moving." Andrew took another look through the rifle scope while Pastor Drummond and Wayne went back to the van. Darren could tell both were on edge, eyes darting left and right. Something didn't feel right. Could a second group of those things just stumble upon the pickup after that fight by the hill? He didn't think so unless they ran in large groups. One of the two men behind him groaned and cursed. Darren didn't have to register what was happening before Pastor Drummond fired his shotgun. "Ambush!" He looked over his shoulder and saw Wayne slumping against the side of the van, half sitting and half standing. The pickup roared to life. Darren turned the key to start the van. The engine sputtered and died. Andrew got out of the truck, rifle in hand. He could see humanoid shapes moving, two. Pastor Drummond fired again. Almost at the same instant a crossbow bolt whizzed past him and hit the back the passenger seat in van. Darren barely had time to register that the bolt was sticking three inches out of the seat. He grabbed his shotgun and got out of the van, raising the weapon as he bailed out. Andrew fired his rifle at something. From his vantage point, there was nothing to see. He went toward the back of the van. Andrew fired his rifle again at almost the same time Pastor Drummond fired in the same general direction. Now Darren could see what they were shooting at. Several humanoid figures were out there 100 yards or so away, crouching behind rocks or bushes and firing crossbows at them. The crack of Andrew's deer rifle mixed with the whistle and thunk of an incoming bolt and Pastor Drummond firing his shotgun again. He had about two seconds of surveying the scene before he noticed two things. Wayne hadn't changed position and his gun was lying in the sand. Darren shot at a nomad who was about to fire a bolt at one of them. No, not at them, at the right rear tire. The bolt hit. "What the fuck are they doing Drummond!" Andrew had maybe fired once more. He didn't hear another shot. Darren backed up and fired again. At this range the shotgun wasn't much use but had to do something. He paused next to the open door. Pastor Drummond fired another shot. "Andrew, how are you doing?" He risked a look over his left shoulder. Andrew was face down in the sand, blood pooling near his side. "Pastor Drummond, Andrew's..." "I saw that. Mark took a bolt in the chest. He seemed like he was barely alive when thinks went crazy." A rifle shot from out in the desert startled both of them. Darren heard a ping, from a bullet hitting metal. "Great. Now they have rifles." "Pastor, can you see the shooter?" Darren was looking toward the back of the van and toward the desert in front of the truck. Pastor Drummond scrambled for cover at the back of the van again. "No." It was quiet for a few seconds. Darren could only spare a glance at Andrew. Had he moved arm and leg? A bullet hit the front of the van, Darren couldn't tell where but definitely the grill. "I saw the shooter this time." Pastor Drummond came around to his side of the van. "About 300 yards away, by some rocks." "So, what do we do about it?" Darren looked at Andrew and his deer rifle. Then he turned to Pastor Drummond. "Can you shoot it?" Drummond shook his head. "Maybe we can ask the shooter to leave us alone. You want me to yell at him?" Drummond scowled. "I'll see if I can do anything for Wayne." The sniper fired again. It sounded like the bullet hit the sand or maybe... He peeked through the windshield. Andrew had been shot in the head. He was alive a minute ago, he was definitely gone now. Darren sized up the distance and the angle. He wasn't 100% sure the sniper was in the same spot or had moved a little. Either way, the only cover he had would be this side of the van or the back of the pickup. The shortest route was about 40 yards, with no concealment at all. He'd be killed before he got to the rifle. And if he got back and found the box magazine empty, the trip was a waste. "Wayne's gone for sure." Darren noticed that Wayne had collapsed onto the sand. "Where are the guys who were back there?" Drummond shrugged. "I think I'm going to make a run and grab that rifle." "You'll get shot." "We're probably going to die out here if I don't do something drastic." "Wait, I have another idea." Without waiting for Drummond to ask a question, Darren ran for the back of the truck. He heard a rifle shot a fraction of a second before getting to the back of the truck. Without wasting time to think about his good luck, he crouched and went around the side. He managed to open the driver's door and got inside, staying low. A bullet hit the door. "Fuck me." He pulled his legs inside and lay there on the bench seat with the door open. There was no pain, so he knew the door had stopped the bullet or it had missed his body. Incredibly, the keys were in the ignition. Darren cursed himself for not thinking about that. "I'm going to start the truck and do something Drummond. Be ready." Without waiting for a response, he started the engine and drove in a semicircle, coming around next to the van. "Help me get that thing in the truck." Darren hopped out as the said that. Drummond nodded. "I saw one or two people out there." "Well, we better not waste any time." The portal generator wasn't any more than 50 pounds when disconnected from that power source. It took the two of them under 30 seconds to disconnect it and put it in the back of the pickup. They paused in between to survey the landscape. Whoever was out there decided to hang back. The mystery sniper wasn't shooting anymore. Maybe they ran out of ammunition. Darren didn't really care, as long as they got what they needed and escaped with it. Darren picked up the power supply and unplugged it. "Ready Pastor?" Without waiting, Darren climbed out of the truck while looking around. He put the power supply in the pickup's bed and, crouching, went around to the driver's side. Now he noticed the bullet hole and fractured plastic in the driver's door. He'd come very close to getting shot a few minutes ago. "What about Wayne and Andrew?" Darren guessed they'd have time to at least cover them with dirt. "We have to leave them here and send someone back." "We could..." Movement in the desert caught his eye. "I saw more people out there." Pastor Drummond looked. "Yeah, let's go." Darren was about to get in the driver's seat. But Andrew had the keys. Now he could see four or five people. They were crouching but not trying to hide. "Andrew had the keys." Before he could say more or get out. Pastor Drummond ran to retrieve the rifle and the keys. As he reached the door a crossbow bolt flew inches over his head. Pastor Drummond mustered some athleticism Darren had never seen in him, by tossing the keys at him and hopping in the passenger's seat in one move. A second bolt hit the windshield. The steel tip went through the glass leaving the bolt sitting there two inches inside the truck and about eight inches outside. The engine rumbled to life. Five figures in light brown robes moved closer now. Darren could've hit one of them with a rock. He backed up and turned around. The robed figures started running toward them. Now, Darren noticed that one of the men, or women, was carrying a rifle slung over one shoulder. "I saw our shooter." Darren hit the gas and spun the back tires. "Shit!" The tires somehow got traction again and the truck started moving. The nomads were still trying, a bolt hit some part of the truck.But it hardly mattered. By now they were a good 200 yards away and pulling away. "Are you hit Pastor?" Darren risked a glance. The man looked okay. "I'm fine." **** Darren made a mental note of where they'd been forced to leave Wayne and Andrew. He and Pastor Drummond said nothing for most of the drive. Darren wanted to ask about the portal generator but couldn't think of any intelligent questions to ask. Pastor Drummond probably didn't know any more than he did. "I'm calling in as soon as possible." Drummond just nodded. "You think they'll follow us?""I would."After a brief silence Darren decided they were close enough and turned on the radio. "Iris, Mike, can you hear me." "Mike here. How'd it go?" Darren related the whole thing. Pastor Drummond chimed in the mention the sniper. "As far as we know there was only one guy with a gun. The others had crossbows." "Are you sure the generator's undamaged though?" Darren could only guess. "No but we had to remove it. And we sort of have instructions." "True. How many of those bandits where there?" "Best guess? Eight or nine." So, I don' think we're in danger of being overrun Darren." Pastor Drummond was too relaxed. "Hey, eight or nine that we know of." He had a suspicion about the Hell Hounds but still didn't want to say anything. He wanted to check his assumption that somehow the locals and the Hounds could communicate. Ditto for the Bird Things. "You still there Darren?" "Roger that. Just put some extra eyes on the southern border will you? Don't wait for us to get to the Public Safety Center." "Can you pass the radio back to Deputy Watkins." Darren handed the radio to Pastor Drummond who passed it through the sliding rear window to Charlie. Darren lost interest in the whole conversation even before handing over the radio. Too many things were coming together in a very convenient way – a town to the south, a city to the northeast, nomads or bandits near the van with Hell Hounds. Monsters coming to town about the time Cat arrived. By now the nearest couple of houses were in sight. The sun had just reached the horizon to their right. He was glad they took care of things so quickly. He also wondered how long the town would be safer than the desert. They were down to harvesting dew and rainwater and food must be running low for everyone. Something had to give, and soon. He was distracted by a couple of things until they got to town. The first was the faint clicking sound coming from the rear of the truck. The other thing was the view in the rear-view mirror. Those nomads could not possibly have followed them and kept up. The first time he looked in the mirror they hadn't gone a half mile and there was no sign of pursuit. He stopped in town as soon as they reached a paved road. It was unnaturally quiet in this corner of town, despite about a dozen houses being in sight. Someone lit a candle in the closest home. It was the only sign of life though, not even a dog barking. "I'm checking the truck. I think they damaged something back there. When he got out, he could see the problem right away. A broken bolt was lodged in one of the tires, which was flatter than it should be. He could only hope it was fixable because there were no replacement tires around. Darren went back to the truck. "Bolt stuck in the tire. Another one's flat. We'll have to leave it." They drove on. Now the ride seemed a bit rough; air was leaking out of the tire. It shouldn't matter. Now that they had the portal generator and sort of knew how to use it the end of this dilemma was in sight. That's what Darren wanted to think anyway. The tank was indeed almost empty when they reached the edge of town. Pressing the accelerator on the road got a sluggish response. He had to brake and make a turn ahead. The engine coughed and sputtered. When Darren made the turn and pressed the gas pedal, he got a little surge of power. Then nothing. "Out of gas?" It only took half a minute to approach the entrance of the Public Safety Center. Darren pressed on the brake pedal hard and turned as hard as he could. It was enough to get the sputtering, nearly dead truck to the closed gate. Then Wayne radioed again. "One of our guys saw a Hell Hound and a couple of people no more than 200 yards from the edge of town." And, things would get more dangerous because it was almost fully dark now. **** Robert ran to the scene of a reported animal attack. The call indicated he'd been standing about 200 yards from the attack. There had been no screams or curses to catch his attention. He cursed himself under his breath as he ran. This time a dog had barked, a woman had yelled. Then there was more barking and screaming. He could see the dog barking at something. And he could see a woman face-down in the grass. By the time he got there two other locals where closer, one holding a machete and staring. Then he saw what had the man transfixed. It was a worm or a centipede or a little of both. The dull purple-back body was at least 11 feet long. One of the woman's legs had been clipped off at the knee. Robert couldn't see where it was. He also couldn't understand why the two people were just looking at but there was no time to ask. He drew his pistol and fired. The snapped the two men out of there daze or whatever it was. The creature was quick to react though. It flinched as a bullet hit it. Then it turned and charged. A third shot kicked up dirt next to it. Robert didn't want to fire again but he did. The swirling rainbow colors in the creature's eye patches were mesmerizing. That shot appeared to hit the upper body, making the creature twitch. He was only just aware of his body moving backwards, walking most likely. The handgun was there aimed generally at the animal. Someone else seemed to be holding it. The worm-thing advanced. Robert walked back, not even feeling his feet hit the ground. A man on his left yelled. It was the machete guy. He was a big boy and the machete's edge glinted in the morning light. It hit with a crunch. Robert kept walking. He felt something hard on his foot, possibly the road. He did not want to fire again or look away from the hellish creature. It had spun round to snap at Machete Man, who whacked it on the head. This time the creature convulsed and tried to pull back. Now it was looking at Machete Man again. A sense of reality and spatial awareness began seeping back into his fore-brain. He risked shooting the thing again, hitting it in the midsection. Machete Man backed up as the creature snapped at him. He wasn't fast enough. The mandibles slashed deeply into his left forearm. Robert walked slowly forward now. Firing at the creature. The first shot missed, kicking up more dirt. The second and third shots hit. The creature convulsed again and then turned to face him. Then it twitched one more time. Robert was about to fire again, looking right at the thing's head. The sense of being in a dreamworld did not return. The worm-thing wasn't moving. Robert became instantly aware of someone on the radio and the second man, the younger guy with Machete Man applying pressure to his arm. Out of habit he took a quick look at the creature first, to see if was dead or incapacitated. From this angle his eyes also took in the woman who'd been attacked. The left side of her sweatshirt was bloody; it probably nipped here there before being distracted by Machete Man and his friend. Robert called for the ambulance and was told it was on the way; someone on the street had called 911. They didn't need to report that. Robert led Machete Man to the car and got the first aid kit. The woman had been past helping when the neighbors got to her. "What was that thing?" The Skinny Man asked the $64,000,000 question. "Something that came from that desert." Aside from that obvious tidbit, Robert had nothing to offer, he decided. "Secure the area and keep people away from that animal," he was told without having it explained why. So, he did as ordered shooing away a couple of local curiosity-seekers. Then more people showed up. He wished he had a blanket for the body. And another for that worm thing. He knew instantly it came from wherever Ridgeway went. But how did it stay hidden in about four square miles of desert? The place had been searched and explored and heavily photographed over the past several days. Anyway it was too late to think about hiding this creature from the public. A few more locals had come over or looked out their windows. He took pride in noticing things like that. A second unit arrived in about a minute followed almost immediately by an ambulance and another sheriff's deputy. It was like a regular crime scene for about two minutes. He'd just finished questioning Machete Man – Damian Barlowe – when he pointed at a car pulling to a stop. It was a black Ford Fusion with two men inside. "Who are they?""Fish and Game I think." He recognized the driver as one of the unnamed agents who'd been in the Sheriff's Office a few days ago. **** Drummond closed the gate and locked it while Darren stood by contemplating what to do with the portal generator. Should they try to power it up and use it immediately. Could they? No, he decided. They might make things worse. It wasn't even clear what powered it. Darren was no physicist, but he knew the power it took to move billions of tons of mass from one universe to another was beyond that reach of modern capacitors. "So, should we take this thing inside or just cover it and put it under guard?" He glanced at a tarp lying under the carport. "We take it inside I think." The radio crackled. "Darren, we've spotted people coming from the direction of Cookeville. I mean southwest." It was Iris. He heard someone else talking. He grabbed his radio. "Talk to me." They couldn't be the same nomads who attacked them, could they? **** Chloe hugged him and kissed him when announced they had the portal generator. Her positive mood was short lived. "Are you sure we can use it?" "Two things: It looked intact. Someone was running on the power available in that van." She nodded, perhaps trying to be hopeful like he was. "We just need to figure out how to turn it on then attach it to a power source. We have the truck with a big diesel V-8 so might be enough." "How could that thing work?" "I have no idea. How else did we get here, wherever it is?" She shook her head. "I hope it works Darren. Someone in the other building shot themselves while you were gone. I heard the gunshot and all the drama." "We'll make that thing work Chloe." Of course he had no idea if they could really make it work. What else was there to say though?