McIness leaned forward and a note of desperation crept into his voice. “The scientists told me that I wouldn’t be able to mate with a normal woman. I’ll never have a kid… I’ll never have a brother or a sister. Except for somebody like The Black Terror. He’s the closest thing to a family I’ll ever have.”
“And we killed him,” Schmidt said. “I understand. But it’s over and done with. You have a job to do now… so put it out of your mind and move on.”
“You’re a real piece of work, Mr. Schmidt.” McIness didn’t bother to hide his disgust.
“I’m your employer, not your friend.” Schmidt felt a change in the cabin’s air pressure and looked out the window. They were preparing for a landing. Since the Indui tribe had been so isolated, there were was no way to set the plane down close to their old village. Instead, the plane was going to come to a rest just outside the jungle, forcing Schmidt and his party to travel the rest of the way on foot.
The German studied McIness once more. “Can I count on you? Or do you need to stay behind on the plane?”
“I’ll be fine.” The Titan stood up, flexing his muscles as the plane bumped and rolled along the ground. It was an impressive feat since the harsh motions of the aircraft would have been enough to knock almost anyone to the floor. Titan cracked his knuckles to emphasize his words. “More than fine. I just hope I get to kill something.”
Schmidt smiled, his eyes lighting up. “Oh, I’m sure that opportunity will present itself. Have no fear.”
The members of Assistance Unlimited were not far behind Schmidt’s plane. Onboard their own personal aircraft, the majority of the team was seated in the ample passenger area, talking with each other or playing board games. In the cockpit, Lazarus was piloting the plane while Sporrenberg sat at his side, serving as copilot.
Their guest, The Black Terror sat by himself, watching the easy way in which his allies interacted. He felt a twinge of jealousy as he surveyed the scene. Despite the fictional history he’d been given, he knew now that there was no ‘Tim’ to adventure at his side, nor was there a Jean Starr waiting for him to return home. He was alone, a freak of nature.
Bob was so lost in his spell of depression that he didn’t even notice that Samantha had spoken to him. With a smile of apology, he asked her to repeat what she had said.
“I asked what you were planning to do after we caught these guys.” Samantha took a seat across from him, crossing her legs as she did so. She noticed that Bob’s eyes momentarily dropped down to watch the motion but he was enough of a gentleman that his gaze quickly returned to her own. She didn’t really mind if a man appraised her physically, it was often quite flattering in fact; but she liked it even more when they obviously regarded her as more than a pretty face. With Bob, there was no doubt of that. He looked at her in a way that made it clear that he regarded her as an equal.
“Go back to what I was doing before: helping people. I don’t really know anything else.”
Samantha nodded, remembering all that The Black Terror had told them back at Assistance Unlimited HQ. He’d been remarkably open about his origins and the fact that he was, on some level, a plant-like creature that only resembled a human. Add to that the fact that his entire back-story was a lie concocted by the government and Samantha was feeling a lot of pity for him. “You know, Assistance Unlimited is always looking for new faces.”
“I appreciate that… more than you know. But I’m not ready to stay in any one place. I know that Tim and Jean don’t really exist but I keep feeling like that I’ll find them somewhere. I just have to keep looking.”
“I bet you’ll find someone who can fill those roles,” Samantha said. “I really do.”
Bob looked away, studying the South American terrain from his window. “I hope you’re right.”
Prometheus wore his full garb despite the oppressive humidity of the jungle. He trudged through the foliage like a mechanical god, his armor glistening with droplets of water. Behind him, The Titan followed closely with over a dozen gunmen at his heels. The hired guns were there mainly to help carry whatever they found back to the plane, there was little that the group would encounter in the jungle that Prometheus or Titan couldn’t handle. So far, any animal that had caught sight of the group had wisely bolted in the opposite direction.
The trek took nearly three hours and led them on an upward path. Schmidt began regretting his decision to wear the armor as his muscles began to rebel at the repetitious actions required to drag the bulk up the hills. He refused to complain, however. The pain was liberating in its way, reminding him of his ultimate goal.
Creating an army was only the beginning of his plan. With the ability to shape bodies to his liking, Schmidt felt confident that he could make an endless supply of replacement forms for himself. How he would transfer his consciousness into them was still a major stumbling block but through magic or science, he would find a way.
And then he would live forever.
Schmidt was enjoying the notion so much that he didn’t notice the peculiar strands of sticky material that hung down around him. It was actually one of his men who began to thrash about and shout that caused Prometheus to realize what was occurring.
The German turned to see his men trying to shake the sticky material from their limbs, with little success. That was when he looked down to see that his own body was covered with the strands. There was something familiar about the material but it was McIness who first voiced what Schmidt was thinking.
“It’s a giant spider’s web!”
Prometheus looked all around, his eyes widening. This deep in the jungle, so close to a village touched by aliens from beyond, there was no telling what could be found.
And then, dropping with astonishing speed, was the source of the massive web: a spider that was easily the size of a small car. Its body was covered with bristles of hair and its eyes shone wetly. Its mandibles moved hungrily and before anyone could react beyond a scream, the spider had snatched up one of the men and covered him with more of the webbing, sealing him up tight like a sausage.
“Shoot the damned thing!” McIness yelled and the remaining men reacted, yanking out their pistols and opening fire.
The spider reacted quickly, the bullets ripping holes throughout its body. It turned to face its attackers and reared up, poison dripping from its fangs. It fell on two of the men, filling them with venom.
McIness sprinted forward, driving a powerful fist into the hindquarters of the monster. The spider’s dense flesh provided a surprising amount of resistance but McIness felt a surge of confidence that he could kill the beast. Some of that enthusiasm fled quickly, however, for the spider knocked him off-balance with one of its legs. It then pounced atop him, the venom from its fangs dripped onto his face.
Prometheus watched all of this with wide eyes. Was this monster simply some creature that had never been discovered by civilized man? Or was it a byproduct of the alien interference in the area?
In the end, it didn’t matter. McIness was too valuable to lose at this point. Prometheus raised an arm and activated the controls that allowed him to spew forth a long plume of fire. Then his natural ability to control flame came into use: he directed the stream away from McIness, instead sending it skittering along the spider’s body. It made a noise that Prometheus associated with a scream, yanking its bulk away from the painful attack. It tried to vanish into the jungle but Prometheus pursued it, feeling flush with power as he killed the much larger beast.
The spider finally collapsed onto the jungle floor, the fire causing its body to shrivel. When he was confident the battle was over, Prometheus silenced the flames, snuffing it out mentally.