“To Hell with this!” Major Desmond raged as he rammed a fresh clip into his M- 16. “I am not waiting here to die.”
“And what would you do, Major?” A smile pulled itself tightly across Dr. Green’s lips. “Going out there will only bring death to you faster,” he laughed. “Did you not see what happened to your men? The tentacles that grew out of Private Richardson’s own body before they tore him to shreds and left his pieces on the floor? The way Simmons’ eyes turned to blood and oozed out of his sockets when he tried to look outside at the sky, or the legion of rat-like creatures on two tiny legs with hungry teeth that swarmed over Barker as he tried to go back for Simmons to drag him to safety in this freezer with us? The seals have been broken Major. To go outside will bring you only death at the Old Ones’ hands.”
Desmond slumped back on the floor of the cryogenic storage room, his back resting against one of its frigid walls. He clutched his rifle in a white-knuckled grip. “I was sent out here to bring you to Washington, Dr. Green. You’re supposed to be an expert on these creatures. The whole country needs your help. We have to get out of here.”
“It’s far too late for that,” Green answered, pulling his jacket tighter about his thin body. “The things I could have taught you, all the signs, incantations and symbols are meaningless now. They were all designed to strengthen the barriers to make sure this world stayed safe. Now that the spawn have broken through there is nothing that I have to offer the world to use in defense against them. Nothing.”
Major Desmond gritted his teeth. “Look, Green, these things are just aliens. There has to be a way to kill them or at least send them back where they came from.”
“Silver bullets? Wooden Stakes? No, Major. You watch too many movies. These creatures are, in essence, Gods. The Earth belonged to them long before the human race was even a gleam in the cosmos’s eyes and now the world is theirs again. Were it not for the steel walls of this windowless vault, we too would be dead or mad, as I am sure most of the planet already is. You should count your blessing Major. Had you not found me in my lab and were we not able to duck inside this freezing unit as the seals broke they’d be coming for you in one form or another at this very moment.”
“So what do we do?” Desmond spat at Green.
“We, my dear Major, get to wait to freeze to death in here with my samples. We get to die a natural death and if we are lucky, our souls may escape them unnoticed.”
Major Desmond leaned forward. “Green, you are one sick bastard. I can see why so many of your ancestors died in asylums.”
“Go on then Major, if you must,” Green chuckled. “I can see giving up is not in your nature but remember you have been warned. My grandfather tried to warn all of you through his stories just as I have warned you now.”
Desmond leapt to his feet and yanked open the cryo-storage unit’s door. There were no monsters waiting for him outside in the lab. Only broken equipment, scattered papers, and two of his men’s skeletons picked free of flesh by the rat-things hours before.
Desmond heard Green slam the door behind him as he stepped out. The Major walked over to the window and found the courage to look outside. The sun had become a sickly shade of green and monstrosities on leathery wings swam through the black clouds above. The grass on the university’s lawn had turned gray and scales covered each blade as they swayed in the hot breeze outside like serpents. Desmond whirled around as the outer door to Dr. Green’s lab thudded open and a flood of tentacles poured inside, writhing towards him like a moving wall.
Inside the cryo-unit, Green heard the gunshots and then the long screams which followed. He made an intricate gesture with his right hand as he said a prayer for Desmond’s soul. Green leaned back and glanced one last time at the black and white picture of his mother, Sonia. He held and returned it carefully to his jacket pocket. It was so cold and he was so tired. He thought he might sleep for a bit and lord willing, he hoped, he wouldn’t wake up.
*
Copyright Eric S. Brown 2005
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