Island Of The Cryptids

43

Brocki practically ran down the corridors of the naval command ship of the Caribbean operations when the helicopter touched down. He rounded the corners of the ship, frantic and nervous. He made his way to the board room, and entered the small meeting room. A bunch of men stood around the table.

"Admiral, we found the lost flight," Brocki said. The admiral looked at him.

"And?"

"Well, the pilot is missing, and the co-pilot died right in front of us before we could get any information out of him."

"How'd he die?"

"Loss of blood. He was hurt bad."

"Okay." The admiral's voice was gruff and gravelly. "Did you get an update on the situation?" Brocki nodded.

"The things are definitely still alive. It doesn't seem to affect them in any way. All of the water sources have been tainted, yet they do not seem to die. We did a sweep of the island. We found a bunch of them and a wrecked car."

"Do we have an estimate on human casualties?"

"Only one confirmed dead, but we have to make a guess that the other seven are dead as well."

"There's a small chance any of them could've survived. Even if they outlived those things, they are all susceptible to the contagion and will most likely die of infection." Brocki gulped.

"So there's no hope for them?"

"I'm afraid not. This operation must cease. The loss of human life will definitely draw attention to us. We could cover up, but it seems as if the parasite is not doing as we wish."

"So we terminate the operation?"

"Yes. Prepare the squadrons for biological decontamination. I want Isla Juneau completely wiped and incapable of sustaining any form of life."

"Yes sir."