Godzilla - The Official Movie Novelization (11 page)

Another man, whose name Serizawa didn’t know, stared in dismay at the readings before him. “—stronger, broad spectrum!”

Whelan paced back and forth, chewing on his nails. His earlier jubilance had vanished completely, replaced by obvious signs of worry and agitation. The power and intensity of the pulses were exceeding all their expectations and precautions. His historic breakthrough was turning into a disaster.

“Any radiation leakage?” he asked fearfully.

A larger tremor shook the crow’s nest as the cocoon emitted an even stronger pulse. Serizawa staggered across the quaking floor to the windows overlooking the pit. Down below, the mammoth cocoon flexed and heaved, causing great hunks of its rocky outer shell to shear off and crash onto the metal grille covering the floor of the pit. Tiny figures, their movements hampered by their cumbersome radiation suits, scrambled for safety as the chunks of the shell tumbled down onto the expensive equipment like a rockslide, smashing portions of the sensor array to pieces. The impact of the fragments slamming into the metal floor echoed off the walls of the pit. As the outer layer of the cocoon disintegrated, more and more of the infernal red glow within it was exposed.

“What the hell is it doing?” Jainway asked.

“Gamma levels still zero,” his fellow technician reported, with audible relief. “It’s sucked all three reactors dry.”

Serizawa held out Brody’s printout. “It’s done feeding.”

Puzzled, Whelan grabbed the document from Serizawa. He peered at it uncomprehendingly. “What’s this?”

“Fifteen years ago,” Serizawa explained. “It’s what caused the meltdown.”

Graham had put the pieces together as well. “It was an electromagnetic pulse,” she said, chiming in. “That’s what it’s building to, converting all that radiation.”

“We need to shut down,” Serizawa said.

Whelan blanched at the prospect. “You’re sure this is authentic?”

Serizawa nodded, wishing he’d found out about Joe Brody’s findings years ago. The exact connection between the meltdown and the cocoon had always been unclear, but Serizawa now realized that an EMP produced by the larva had shut down the plant’s safety systems back in 1999. His grave expression and bearing convinced Whelan to heed his warning.

“Secure the grid!” the scientist ordered. “Wildfire protocols!”

Jainway pressed a button, sounding an alarm. He relayed Whelan’s orders into his microphone. “All personnel, clear the first perimeter, immediately!”

Klaxons blared throughout the base. Crimson warning lights flashed and rotated. Outside the crow’s nest, the generators were cranked up to full capacity as the six looming construction cranes went into operation. Gears engaged and motors roared as the cranes stretched a net of thick steel cables above the pit.

Just in case anything tried to escape.

Wailing klaxons penetrated the walls of the security van, causing Ford to start in alarm. He knew emergency warnings when he heard them. All hell was breaking loose somewhere.

Desperate to figure out what was happening, he peered out the rear window of the van. He spotted heavy steel cables winding from the base of a towering construction crane, which had just swung into action. He couldn’t make out what the cables were attached to.

Radios squawked outside the van. Ford saws guards rushing past.

“Hey!” he shouted, trying to get their attention. Had everyone forgotten that he was handcuffed inside the van? He yelled over the blaring klaxons. “HEY!”

His shouts went unheeded. Whatever crisis was underway clearly took priority over one inconvenient American trespasser. Ford realized he was on his own, right on top of a buried nuclear power plant. He remembered the radiation helmet tucked in his belt and hastily put it back on. He used his free hand to refasten it to the suit.

Better safe than sorry.

* * *

Serizawa watched from the crow’s nest as the tech crews on the lower levels of the pit scrambled out of the way as the huge wire “cage” descended, sealing the cocoon inside, even as another layer of the outer shell shook loose, sloughing onto the floor of the pit with tremendous force. Serizawa offered a silent prayer for the workers below, hoping they would not be crushed by the stony fragments, which were as hard and brittle as volcanic rock.

Agitated voices filled the control room. The pulses, coming faster and faster, were growing steadily in strength. Arguments broke out among the panicky scientists and technicians as they debated the correct response to the escalating crisis. Emergency measures were hurriedly deployed, but Serizawa got a definite sense that matters were spiraling out of control. Besieged by critical reports and queries from the staff under his command, Dr. Whelan looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. It appeared now that they had all severely underestimated the forces—and the creature—they had sought to contain. Whelan’s dreams of solving the world’s energy crisis were turning into a nightmare.

“Grid secure!” Jainway called out as the high-tension netting stretched taut above the quivering cocoon. The technician let out a sigh of relief, which Serizawa feared might be premature. After all, the cage had never been tested.

The announcement quieted the tumult inside the control room. Overlapping voices trailed off as all heads turned toward Whelan, who was pacing back and forth before the windows. Everyone present knew what came next. Jainway’s hand hovered above a switch. He looked to Whelan for the go-ahead.

“Say the word,” the technician said.

Whelan, for his part, appeared overwhelmed by the responsibility that had fallen on him. He looked in turn to Serizawa, who sympathized with the stricken scientist. This was no easy decision.

“So much we still don’t know,” Whelan moaned, agonizing over the potential loss to science.

Down in the pit, the cocoon shuddered again, shedding yet another layer of shell. Great chunks of the cocoon rained down on the metal flooring, which began to buckle beneath the avalanche. With each layer, more and more of the unearthly effulgence at the core of the cocoon could be seen, although the organism within remained hidden from view.

But for how much longer?

“Kill it,” Serizawa said.

Whelan let Serizawa make the call. He nodded to Jainway, who threw the switch.

Thousands of volts electrified the metal grille at the base of the cocoon. Bright blue flashes crackled across the flooring. The cocoon sizzled and convulsed as the electricity arced across its outer shell, jolting it with bolts of artificial lightning. Smoke rose from its cracking outer shell. Floodlights and fuses blew, throwing the entire pit into darkness. Graham gasped, and Whelan looked away from the window. In theory, whatever was growing inside the cocoon had just been electrocuted.

Serizawa prayed they had not waited too long.

On the monitors, the data feeds all went silent. A hush fell over the control room.

“All readings are flat-lining,” Jainway reported.

“Is it dead?” Whelan asked.

Serizawa peered down into the murky pit. As nearly as he could tell, the cocoon remained intact, apart from a single long crack splitting its surface. Shadows filled the gap, making it impossible to discern what lay deeper within the cocoon. The bioluminous glow had been extinguished. No sound or motion could be detected from this height.

Jainway sagged back into his seat, looking drained. He clearly thought the crisis had been averted, as did various other technicians throughout the control room. The electricity appeared to have done the trick, but Serizawa remained on edge. There was too much at stake to take any chances.

“Get a visual,” he instructed.

* * *

Down in the pit, a work crew cautiously approached the charred cocoon. The metal grid beneath their feet was no longer electrified, but their hazmats suits included rubber boots regardless. Massive fragments of dislodged shell, the size of boulders, were embedded in the floor, forcing the workers to detour around them. Burnt and shattered scientific equipment further obstructed their path. The grilled flooring was dented and cratered, making it difficult to navigate. It was several minutes before they reached the base of the cocoon, which remained dark and inert.

The leader of the team, Koji Tanaka, ignited a handheld flare. An incandescent red glow cast light on the deep, jagged crack running up the blackened exterior of the looming cocoon. He peered up at the crack, but saw only a still, silent darkness. It appeared that the creature was indeed dead, but perhaps there was yet more they could learn by examining its remains?

The team drew nearer to the cocoon. Tanaka was about to report back to the control room, when he thought he spotted a glimmer of movement through the crack. At first he thought it might be just a trick of the light, but, no,
something
was definitely shifting deep within the cocoon. He squinted into shadows, while the rest of his team started shouted and pointing excitedly. They could all see it now: Elusive shapes—no, a
single
shape—stirring inside the cocoon, right before their eyes.

Tanaka’s mouth went dry. He began to back away warily.

A deafening howl erupted from the cocoon, echoing off the walls of the pit. Terrified, Tanaka and his team turned and ran frantically for their lives.

They didn’t get far.

A bone-rattling shock wave blasted from the cocoon, flinging the fleeing workers across the floor into the ruins and rubble. The concussive force disintegrated what remained of the cocoon, causing it to crumble into dust, even as a tremendous electromagnetic pulse blew through the entire base, shutting everything down. Tumbling through the air, Tanaka was already dead, his organs pulped, before he slammed into a disintegrating pile of debris.

The creature howled again.

* * *

The van rattled as though a bomb had gone off nearby. The dome-light in the ceiling, which had been flickering and off, went out completely, leaving Ford trapped in the dark. The blaring klaxons ceased abruptly, while a sudden blackout seemed to hit the entire facility. All the lights outside went dark simultaneously, so that only faint starlight illuminated the scene. The motorized cranes whirred to a stop.

What the—?

Ford was still trying to figure out what was happening, and whether he’d been completely forgotten, when the thunderous howl of some unknown creature rang out over the chaos. That was no machine or siren, Ford realized instantly. The ululating cry was unmistakably coming from something
alive.

He couldn’t believe his ears, and a primordial fear gripped his heart. Bombs and blackouts he understood, and he had seen combat more than once. But the thought of what could have produced that savage wail defied his imagination.

What had his father said before? About some sort of animal…?

* * *

Joe found himself alone in the improvised interrogation room. Fitzgerald and the guards had run off, distracted by the crisis, which had apparently caught them completely by surprise. He remembered the feeling.

You should’ve listened to me
, he thought bitterly.
I should’ve made you listen.

The lights went out, just as they had at the plant years ago. He heard an electronic lock click as the power shorted. He tried the door and found it unlocked. Cautiously sticking out his head out the door, he glanced around but didn’t see any more guards in the vicinity. He wasn’t surprised. If history was indeed repeating itself, as he feared, then the people here had a lot bigger problems on their hands than one trespassing engineer.

This was his chance, he realized, to find out the truth at last.

* * *

Along with his fellow scientists, Serizawa stared down into the abyss, which was lit only by the intermittent strobing of the emergency lights. The steel-mesh net over the pit remained intact, further obscuring his view of the creature below, which had obviously survived their attempt to electrocute it. Despite the danger posed by the monster, Serizawa marveled at its obvious strength and endurance. They had sent enough voltage through the grid to fry a great white whale, but the creature was still alive and free from its cocoon.

We waited too long
, he realized.
It’s grown too strong.

The erratic lighting frustrated him. Straining his eyes, he could make out only the vague impression of some gargantuan form moving below. He caught sporadic glimpses of gigantic red eyes and gleaming fangs. The biologist in him was anxious to see the adult form of the organism, now that it had completed its metamorphosis from the larval stage that had hatched from the Philippine egg sac fifteen years ago, even as he feared for humanity as well.

What exactly had just emerged into the night?

Beside Serizawa, Whelan gasped as the shadowy beast pressed up against the cable netting, testing its cage. The creature heaved upward, shaking the entire pit. Steel scaffolding and support beams began to buckle alarmingly. Tortured metal screamed in protest. The crow’s nest bucked beneath Serizawa’s beneath feet, and he had to grab onto a window sill to maintain his balance. Graham stumbled against him, her face pale.

“
Evenyone out!
” Whelan shouted. “
Now!
”

His palm slammed down on a panic button.

* * *

A bewildering assemblage of steel gantries and elevated walkways circled the site of the former power plant, overlooking a sinkhole of Biblical proportions. Joe made his way through the unfamiliar complex, heading toward the center, even as a mass evacuation got underway, triggering a distinct sense of
déjà vu.
Hundreds of fleeing workers, many wearing radiation suits similar to his own, rushed past him, descending from metal catwalks and stairways in a desperate exodus. In their haste, nobody noticed an unfamiliar face amidst the crush. Joe jostled through the tide of humanity, like a salmon fighting its way upstream. He alone was heading
toward
the source of the chaos—and the inhuman howl.

I have to see it
, he thought.
I have to know what’s down there.