Godzilla - The Official Movie Novelization (19 page)

Giant prehistoric monsters, on the other hand, had not been taken into account.

The main entrance to the facility consisted of an enormous tunnel that had been bored into the north side of the mountain. Armed guards stationed at the entrance admitted the troops, who deployed with both speed and purpose. The commander of the assault force, Captain Roger Pyle, led his men through a sprawling underground maze of tunnels, branching off into numerous long galleries lined with large sealed compartments. Steel doors, each nearly thirty feet tall, guarded the vaults and their lethal contents, which were routinely sealed inside solid steel canisters. View ports were installed in each door to allow for direct visual inspections.

Moving swiftly but methodically, the soldiers worked their way through the dimly lit tunnels, checking each vault on the go. The precise location of the captured Philippine egg sac was buried amidst layers of official secrecy, misdirection, redactions, and plausible deniability, defying ready access, but Pyle had reason to believe that it was somewhere in this particular gallery, nearly a thousand feet under the mountain. Given the possibility that a second MUTO might be stirring, it had been decided to conduct an immediate search and inspection of the vaults, pronto.

“Move it!” Pyle urged his men. “On the double!”

One after another, view ports were slid open. Flashlights probed the interiors of the vaults, finding only the expected stores of nuclear waste in their airtight casks. So far everything appeared secure, although they had yet to locate the MUTO egg, hatched or otherwise. Pyle had to wonder what the brass was thinking, storing something like that. He would have blown it to pieces years ago.

Then maybe they might not be in the fix they were in.

Pyle hung back, observing the operation, as yet another view port was opened. Instead of the usual darkness, a blinding white light shone in his face. Blinking, he shielded his eyes from the glare and recoiled along with his men. Instantly on guard, soldiers raised their weapons as their comrades warily unsealed the massive hatch. More light flooded the tunnel as the heavy door swung open, revealing a disturbing sight.

Goddamnit
, Pyle thought.

The entire vault had been torn open from the inside. An enormous hole, at least three hundred feet in diameter, gaped at the far end of the cavernous chamber, where what appeared to be a newly dug tunnel climbed all the way up to the surface. The blinding light pouring down from above? That was
sunshine
, Pyle realized, coming from outside the buried repository.

Yucca Mountain had been breached—from within.

Already dreading what he’d find, Pyle and his soldiers scrambled up the crude tunnel, which was big enough to accommodate a tank or more. It was a steep climb and he was breathing hard by the time he reached the top, where the passage opened onto a panoramic view of the sprawling desert to the south. Heaps of shattered stone were strewn beneath the tunnel exit, where
something
had obviously burst up through the base of the mountain. Enormous tracks, at least fifty feet across, scarred the arid landscape, leading off to the horizon.

Pyle called sharply for binoculars, which were immediately smacked into his grip by a junior officer. Raising the high-tech lenses to his eyes, he increased the magnification to maximum and scoured the sunlit badlands to the south. Through a haze of uprooted sand and dirt, he glimpsed the distant outline of
another
enormous creature making its way across the desert.

They were too late, he realized. A second MUTO had hatched.

And it was headed straight for Las Vegas.

What happened in Vegas now tended to end up on the internet, but Sin City was still going strong. Unconcerned or unaware of the disaster in Hawaii, eager gamblers packed the floor of one of the Strip’s many lavish casinos. Rows of men and women sat at slot machines, feeding their salaries to the one-armed bandits. Dice rolled across green felt tabletops to the accompaniment of fervent groans, cheers, and prayers. People gathered around the blackjack and poker tables, spilling their drinks onto the garish carpet. Crystal chandeliers and plenty of neon added to the sensory overload. A color TV, mounted on a wall by the bar, displayed handheld camera footage of the winged MUTO, but was going largely ignored. A skeptical retiree, scowling up at the screen, muttered that the whole thing was a hoax “like global warming,” but nobody paid any attention to her. Honolulu was very far away and, anyway, the monsters were somebody else’s problem.

Then the lights went out, taking all the glowing neon with it. Strident bells and buzzers went silent, while people looked up from their games with varying degrees of surprise, concern, and annoyance. Roulette wheels slowed to a stop. Cards went unplayed. Piped-in music gave way to anxious muttering, as nervous gamblers scooped up their chips for safekeeping. Cut off by design from the outside world, the casino floor was suddenly a murky, inhospitable cavern. Puzzled staff and visitors waited for some sort of announcement concerning the blackout, but the P.A. system was apparently down too.

All that could heard, coming from somewhere outside the casino, was a piercing, inhuman howl that seemed to be drawing nearer.

* * *

Elle paced restlessly around her kitchen, keeping one eye on the TV news in the living room. The horrifying footage was playing continuously and only seemed to get worse every time she saw it. She’d watched every minute over and over, half-hoping, half-dreading that she’d catch a glimpse of Ford amongst the chaos, but so far there had been no sign of him, even though, according to Sam, Ford had called from the Honolulu airport right before the monsters attacked.

“Yes, Ford Brody—Japan to San Francisco,” she repeated into the phone at her ear. Pacing in her hospital scrubs, she fought to keep panic at bay. “Look, I know your systems are down,” she pleaded to the frazzled-sounding airline representative she’d finally managed to get hold of. So far he hadn’t been much help. “What? No, wait! Can I leave my number just in—?”

A click at the other end of the line cut off the call.

“Damn it!” she swore, slamming the phone down onto the kitchen table. The curse came out louder than she intended, startling Sam who was sitting at the table eating a bologna sandwich.

He looked up at her with a worried expression.

She hurried over to comfort him, pulling him close. To be honest, the hug was as much for her benefit as his.

“It’s okay,” she said, trying to reassure them both. “Daddy’s going to be okay.”

She wished she could believe that.

* * *

Once again, Ford found himself aboard a C-17 Globe-master bound for home. Crammed in among the other soldiers, all of whom were decked out in combat gear, Ford felt out of place in his beaten-up civilian attire. He rubbed his chin, which was badly in need of a shave. He suspected he could use a shower as well. He had been on the move for days now.

Fortunately, his new traveling companion didn’t seem to mind his lack of hygiene.

“I’m Queens all the way,” Sergeant Tre Morales volunteered, as if his New York accent wasn’t proof enough. He proudly shared photos of three generations of Morales. “
Mi familia.
My wife’s from San Francisco, but we dragged her over.”

Ford felt bad that he didn’t have any photos of Elle or Sam on his person. “We’re just across the Bridge.”

“Kids?” Tre asked.

“I have a son. He’s four. Sam.”

“I’m having a daughter,” Tre said.

Ford appreciated the conversation. He knew he probably ought to be trying to get some sleep, but he was too uneasy knowing that a pair of feuding monsters was heading toward America. He wasn’t going to be able to relax until he knew that Sam and Elle were safe.

“You gotta be psyched about that,” he said, regarding Tre’s upcoming blessed event.

“Oh, yeah. Super-psyched, ‘cause we’re due next week.” Tre grinned, but Ford could hear the genuine tension behind the sergeant’s joking tone. “I really wanted to wait until
after
the apocalypse to have kids, so, yeah…”

His voice trailed off.

Ford wanted to reassure Tre, but was still searching for the words when the light coming through the plane’s windows suddenly shifted direction. Changing course, the C-17 tilted hard to one side, throwing the seated soldiers against each other. Ford tensed up, concerned with what this might mean. Elle and Sam were waiting for him. The last thing he needed was another complication or detour.

“All right, heads up!” An Air Force loadmaster ducked back into the hold from the cockpit. He spoke loudly enough to rouse any napping soldiers. The stripes on his uniform identified him as a staff sergeant. “We have new orders, new destination. Get geared up!”

Ford frowned. Did this mean they weren’t heading to San Francisco after all? Rising from his seat, he approached the loadmaster. The tilting floor beneath him made walking a challenge.

“Hey, Staff Sergeant, what’s the word? We’re just trying to get home, right?”

The loadmaster shook his head. “Another one of those things just popped up in Nevada, sir. Tore through Vegas, heading for the west coast. We don’t stop it now, there might not be a home to get back to.”

Ford’s blood went cold.
Another
creature? Heading west from Nevada?

Toward California?

* * *

Elle was running late by the time she got to work. San Francisco General Hospital was located in the heart of downtown, and treated thousands of patients every day, but she had never seen it this crazy before. Emergency vehicles, including fire trucks and ambulances, packed the loading area out front, while dozens of paramedics were already on hand, preparing for a flood of casualties. It looked like every EMT in town had been called into service. Elle felt a twinge of guilt for not getting here earlier, but she had been trying—and failing—to find out what had happened to Ford in Hawaii.

With Sam in tow, she made her way through the hustle and bustle to the nurses’ station on the ground floor. Her supervisor, Laura Watkins, greeted Elle with visible relief. Like the area outside, the E.R. was a madhouse, full of doctors and nurses dashing about and getting ready. The hospital was the only Level 1 Trauma Center serving the 1.5 million residents of the city and surrounding county, so it often took the brunt of any major accidents or disasters.

“There you are!” Laura exclaimed. The head nurse, a fortyish brunette, had coped in her day with everything from earthquakes to multi-car pile-ups, but Elle had never seen her this stressed. “Thank God. What a mess.” She didn’t waste time chiding Elle for her tardiness. “Okay, where do I need you most? Get that triage unit off its ass. We’re just about to start catching overflow from Nevada and no one’s even got an estimate yet. I’m gonna be right here, so Sam can stay with me. He’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, Laura.” Elle sat Sam down at the station and handed him a coloring book and crayons. “Honey, I’m sorry, but you need to wait here while Mommy works, okay?”

Sam glanced around, visibly troubled by all the commotion. Even a four-year-old could pick up on the anxiety and agitation in the air. Still, he nodded bravely; this was not the first time Elle had been unable to find a babysitter. She leaned over and planted a firm kiss on his forehead, before reluctantly tearing herself away to get to work. A television screen in the waiting area, intended to occupy bored patients and their loved ones, aired live footage of rampant destruction in some small town further east. It seemed that the carnage was no longer confined to Hawaii. Elle shuddered as she hurried past the televised images of crushed and smoking ruins. Glancing back, she saw Sam staring at the TV, ignoring the coloring book in his lap.

She wished she could turn the TV off, but there was no hiding from the nightmare that had invaded their world. This was no harmless creature feature or childish fantasy.

The monsters were real now.

* * *

The penthouse suite at the MGM Grand Hotel was an exercise in opulent luxury, boasting a well-stocked bar with marble accents, a spacious dining area complete with fine linen tablecloths, a king-sized bed, a deluxe Roman spa tub, a full-equipped entertainment center, and a view to die for. Intended for high rollers only, the lavish suite was the height of elegance.

Or at least it had been.

A brigade of firefighters stomped through the suite, searching for survivors. The hotel’s entire façade had been ripped away, so that the far wall facing Las Vegas Boulevard no longer existed. Smoke and wind blew in from outside. Emergency helicopters buzzed loudly through the sky. The exhausted firefighters paused before the gaping hole where the wall and picture windows had been. They gazed out in shock and awe at the apocalyptic vista below.

A deep chasm cut across the famed Vegas Strip, where the claws of an enormous beast had gouged the street and sidewalks all the way down to the bedrock. Thousands of displaced and traumatized tourists and casino employees staggered amidst the shattered pavement, while an army of first responders was overwhelmed by the scale of the disaster. Water gushed from ruptured pipes. Flames erupted from the ruins of the Strip’s gaudy casinos, hotels, and attractions. New York-New York had been reduced to splinters, its
faux
Statue of Liberty defaced, its replica Empire State Building obliterated. Across the way, on the other side of Tropicana, the mock medieval turrets and battlements of Excalibur had been torn down by a genuine monster, who had wreaked havoc all along the ravaged boulevard. A half-scale copy of the Eiffel Tower had been snapped in two. Mountains of rubble filled the Venetian’s canals. The Luxor’s great pyramid and matching sphinx were history. It was as though the MUTO was symbolically laying waste to the entire world.

It felt like a prophecy.

* * *

The
Saratoga
was speeding across the Pacific, making thirty knots, but the crisis had obviously reached America before the carrier and its attached strike group could. In the briefing room, video feeds captured shocking views of the Las Vegas strip being torn apart by the second MUTO, the one that had just broken loose from the Yucca Mountain facility. Soldiers and scientists crowded before the monitors, gaping at this latest threat. Smoke and static obscured the video feeds, making it difficult at first to compare the new MUTO to the immense winged arthropod that had hatched from the cocoon in Japan, but Serizawa managed to make out its appearance.