Moore’s frightened scream echoes the cry of pain of the soldier.
The chaos breaks free.
In the stroboscopic effect caused by the convulsive movement of the torches and gunfire in the darkness, she sees a knee of Vasquez breaking to pieces, while a red splash draws on the wall to her left. Ivanov’s reaction is lightning fast. The scientist grabs the woman by her wrist and drags her without delay beyond the angle of the corridor. She stumbles as she tries to get up again and almost ends lying down, narrowly avoiding a blast that draws a series of blacks holes in the wall behind her. The mind of Moore is able to express only one single concept.
Run!
Then she in turn grabs strongly Ivanov’s hand, running hunched into the darkness in front of her, trying to head into the laboratory and leaving behind the desperate cries of Vasquez, the unknown animal noises of the creature, and the sound of gunfire.
HELICOPTER CRASH SITE
Macready seems to have recovered from his momentary lapse of presence. Jennings updated him on what happened to Black, and on what they saw in the footage taken from the camera found in the camp of the marauders. Under normal circumstances he would order a rest for the marine, evidently prey to hallucinations caused perhaps by sunstroke. Not this time though. The breathless tale of the soldier and the horribly deformed bodies in the helicopter crash are a sad confirmation of the statements of Ivanov.
At that thought a twinge of anger tightens his heart in a red-hot vise.
He had to split from Ironside. He would have rather kept him nearby so he could personally ensure his safety. After all it’s his base, and the responsibility for all who work there, as well as for the guests, is only his. Having a senior government official who wanders around in a situation like that, it’s an outright mange. The dirty laundry is washed at home. Anyway, he needed someone trustworthy, someone who knew… and this is why Ironside went on the site of the crash of the Boeing to better coordinate the cover-up operations. Ironside was with him all the time, it’s certain that he is human, for now, or rather, it’s certain that both are human as much as they were when they arrived.
At least until they parted.
This story will drive me crazy…
A soldier approaches to update him.
“Sir, we finished incinerating what remained of the helicopter… and bodies. We’re ready to move on”. The marine speaks with a sad disappointment tone. After all those bodies were colleagues with whom he had eaten and slept until a few hours before.
Macready nods, looking at the blackened carcass of the aircraft. “We go on site, where the plane crashed.”
“There’s more sir”, the boy adds. “We have lost contact with the base, we can’t communicate with anyone inside.”
Shit…
“Change of plans then, Mooseay and Leoni will come with me to the base, you gather together and go and give a hand to the others at the crash site. Let’s move.”
ALGERIAN DESERT
“What the hell of a beast can leave a track like that?”, wonders Seagull, while the Humvee follows the long and snaking trail, almost half a meter wide, traced by the creature on the sand.
“Almost four kilometers since we started following it, and we still haven’t seen anything yet.”
“Indeed… We should already have sighted it, the beast can’t be so damn fast”, is Jeff’s reply.
“At least we know it can’t fly, and this is already an advantage”, adds Will. “Although we haven’t seen anything but sand so far… And what Jennings has told us is too absurd to be true.”
Hearing that Seagull stares at him with a look of reproach. “Why don’t you shut up? Black is dead.”
“Are you sure? Have you seen his corpse?”
“Give it a cut”, shouts Jeff. “I’m not in the mood to hear this shit.”
The other replies puffing, then opens the hatch on the roof of the vehicle and looks out on the outside.
“Dear God, I can’t stand him sometimes. What a punk!”, whispers Seagull, facing Jeff Michigan.
This one has a focused look, as staring at an unspecified point in front of them.
Noticing his expression, the sergeant turns quickly to look in the same direction. Sparse ruins are barely visible in the distance.
Seagull shouts immediately at the sniper: “Will, two o’clock!”
“Got it!”
As they approach, the ruins take the shape of a wall of earth, half crumbled. A little further the miserable remains of a gutted hut struggle to survive and stand. On the right, about twenty meters ahead, there’s a small pile of stones surmounted by the remnants of a rusty crooked arc.
Seagull orders the teams to slow down and stop at a safe distance.
Observing the scene it’s quite clear that the tracks of the creature point straight toward the small well.
After being sure that, apart from the trail on the ground, there is no trace of the men nor of the creature in the area, the group of soldiers stops.
“Jeff, stay here with Bailey and keep the engine running, I will move with the other team. Roger, you’re coming with me”, orders Seagull, making sure that the Humvee stays at about two hundred meters from the meager ruins. Then he turns to Bailey. “Will, keep your eyes on the area and cover us. But you must not take any risks. If the situation turns bad you must flee the hell away from here. There’s no radio signal, and we must ensure to report to Macready, am I clear?”
Jeff and Will nod, relieved for not having to get any closer to the place where the menace is hiding.
“Roger, take all the incendiary grenades that you can carry.” Seagull takes with him a number of explosives too, fixing them to his belt. Then, without saying a word, the two step out of the vehicle and approach the other team.
Four marines move into the ruins in a fan-like formation, closely followed by the second Humvee.
USA BASE CNT222
Emily Moore and Alexander Ivanov move crouched to escape the chaos unleashed on the other end of the corridor, in the elevator zone. It’s the Russian leading the woman, orienting himself by heart in the dark, trying to remember the layout of the rooms and using his touch.
The palm of his left hand burns. While fingering the ground, during the desperate flight to escape the blasts exploded by the soldiers, his hand touched something sharp. There’s no need to look to recognize the sensations caused by a stab wound. The two go on quickly, heading to the laboratory where, just a few minutes earlier, they were testing Ahmed’s blood.
Reached the lab, they have a sad confirmation of their fears. The door is sealed, just like the others. The access system with badges is useless without electricity, and the backup system didn’t fire up.
“What do we do now?”, the woman asks. Her voice is barely a whisper cracked by fear.
“We must hide without making a sound, and think of how to find a way out of this base. Our senses are limited in the dark, but the creature may have ways of perception that we can’t even imagine. I fear it won’t be easy. I’ve already experienced a similar situation, trust me.”
Ivanov’s voice is barely audible, then both stay silent, eavesdropping.
The assault rifles shots go on for a while, then they stop suddenly. The screaming of Vasquez takes on a hoarse shrill tone, like that of a dying animal. For a moment it’s the only sound they hear, then it also dampens suddenly, making somehow the world darker.
The awareness of being in total obscurity, in an underground and isolated base, in which a deadly danger lurks is overwhelming. Every sound is magnified and appears to assume a menacing aura. Her heavy breathing, the rhythmic drumming of her heart, a faint gasp coming from her own stomach. Moore has the feeling that the air is lacking, almost suffocating her. The atmosphere of terror and imminent danger is palpable and pressing on her chest and temples, giving her the feeling that her own thoughts are caught up in something black, murky, poisonous and alien.