Precipice: The Beginning (14 page)

Annie felt like a penguin, waddling from side to side across the lawn with the basket full of this and that held out before her. Annie had set four towels across the top, hoping to keep the clothes dry. But the rain was relentless. It was so dark from such thick cloud coverage. Annie had to think hard whether it was day or night. Since their car had skidded off the side of the road they’d spent the last few days hunkered down inside. After the first day of cartoons and frozen pizza, time just seemed to mush together.

Annie set the basket down on the porch and knocked three times. “It’s Annie from this house.” Annie said extra loud, not wanting to be left outside longer than she had too. Her shoes had been soaked through and the squishing water between her toes was not pleasant.

“Thank God.” Erica threw open the door and gave Annie a tight hug. “Was he still there?” Erica locked the door behind her, checking the chain and deadbolt twice before facing Annie.

“Yes, he’s dead,” Annie whispered, looking back over her shoulder to the kids on the couch, raising her eyes to Erica and hoping she’d catch the hint. “Did he say anything to you?”

“Was he still alive?”

“No, no. I mean when he had entered the house.”

Erica shook her head, but there was doubt in her eyes.

Annie didn’t feel there was any real point to bringing it up. What had been done could not be taken back and she needed Erica to remain calm. Annie carried the laundry basket into the kitchen and dug through the layers of clothes. She pulled out the box and set it on the counter next to her own lockbox, tapping it so Erica would know where to find it. Then she debated if maybe they should be hidden. But how would she have acted if some random guy shattered a window and came inside. Knowing full well she was Logan’s only line of protection, Annie left the boxes on the counter. She knew that if the roles had been reversed, she too would have pulled the trigger. No one fucks with her child. A smile pulled at the corner of her lips, but she kept it hidden. The thought of her walking the streets with a shotgun just looked too out of place. She picked up the phone and pressed redial, shaking her head to Erica.

“How about some camping stories?” Annie howled like a wolf as she took her seat on the couch, setting three boxes of cookies between them. “I hope you don’t mind staying the night for a little slumber party.” Annie spoke to Abby, hoping to push away the vacant stare, “your mommy and I just feel it’s safer to stick together.”

“Okay,” Abby spoke without emotion, like a robot.

Annie and Erica shared a glance, hoping this was all going to be over by morning. They’ll be able to call the police and let them take care of the man that had broken into Erica’s house. Just a simple case of self-defense. She hoped everything would be back to a state of normality, but she couldn’t dismiss the distant sound of gunfire.

29

T
his was the moment of truth. Three days of no sleep, sitting over a stack of paperwork with cup after cup of coffee. Gordon Dennis was about to set their only hope on a plan that he himself didn’t think was worth the shot. But there literally was nothing better. After reviewing a mountain of data, he’d come to no other conclusions. Now all he could do was pray.

“They’re starting,” Kenneth said from the doorway.

“Let the games begin,” Gordon said sarcastically, setting the pen down as he stood.

Gordon closed the folder over the four pages he’d just written. After realizing there was little help he could offer, he’d decided to put his affairs in order. Gordon had taken some paper and written a long letter to his ex-wife and two children, telling them everything he’d always wanted to tell them but couldn’t. It had always been so hard for him to express his feelings. So much easier to face a blank piece of paper than the face of a loved one. Hopefully the world wouldn’t end before he could mail it. He felt like the world’s biggest pussy and worst father. Too late to make amends now. Typical though, having his whole life to be the man he always should have been only to realize it when there was probably no time left.

Gordon followed Kenneth through the thin hallways, turning sideways from time to time to pass by a cluster of naval officers or other researchers. Everyone on board, whether they had a doctorate in oceanography and marine biology or simply the cook, all of them had an ocean of doom in their eyes. Gordon kept his head low as they pushed their way toward the bridge. He didn’t want to look them in the eyes. It had been his brilliant mind the President himself had called upon to come up with a solution, so the fault must lie with him. He had looked over the data and felt baffled. No explanations, nothing he’d ever seen before. Earth had thrown him for a loop many times in the past, but never has it pulled the rug out from under him.

“Blue Boy’s 1, 2, 3 and 4 have successfully reached the ocean floor. You can watch them on the monitors,” Captain Keeble said as the two doctors entered the bridge. “The thermite charges are being secured along the trench wall at a quarter mile interval, as specified by your calculations doctor Dennis.”

“I’m not a demolitions expert. But with the density of the canyon’s walls and the blast radius, it should be sufficient to cause a uniformed cave-in. But this is all just speculation.”

“You have made a continual note of that, doctor,” Captain Keeble snapped, agitated by his lack of confidence.

Gordon felt the tension and let it go. What good was it going to do them all now? Besides, he knew the captain’s agitation was not solely directed at him. He followed the captain’s gaze out to the rough sea, almost entirely blocked from view by the heavy rainfall and dark cloud coverage. Gordon looked down at the four remote camera links to the Blue Boys. Four remote piloted submarines with strong arms and advanced robotics specifically designed for deep-sea submersion, they could work in atmospheres no human could enter, without exploding from the immense pressure at least. The operators here in the bridge were doing a fantastic job of securing and then arming the thermite charges. It might actually work! This stupid ass plan that seemed so military, “let’s just blow the fucker up,” might actually work.

“What the hell?” The operator to Blue Boy 3 took off his display helmet. “I’ve lost all remote capabilities.”

“Bring it back online, pronto!” Captain Keeble hurried over to the operator, leaning over his shoulder to review the linking computer. “Remote arms or not, where the hell is the video feed?”

“All communication between our systems and this unit have been severed.”

“These subs don’t just power down and go to sleep.”

“The only explanation is if the onboard circuits have been removed or destroyed.” The operator set his helmet on the consul and turned in his chair. “Since no one could have removed it, the remote link must have been destroyed.”

“Johnson!” Captain Keeble made a tight fist, channeling his rage. “Can you confirm early detonation from any of the thermite charges?”

“No charges have been detonated sir.”

“This isn’t possible,” the captain said softly.

“Captain, Blue Boy 2 is down.” The operator took off her helmet. “Lost all feeds.”

“We just lost Blue Boy 1,” the operator said with a heavy sigh. “I can’t explain what I saw…” The young woman shook her head, closing her eyes as she examined the final moments of footage before it went blank.

“Run back the footage.” The captain ran over to the operator and stood behind her, leaning in so close they may as well have been dancing.

The footage rewound quickly, passing by so fast in a jumble of dark footage. She pressed play and they watched the strong arms securing a charge to the wall, nothing they hadn’t seen before. In a flash, something shot out of the darkness and slammed into the lens, ending the transmission.

“Play back the last four seconds of footage and go frame by frame.”

The operator did as instructed, moving the images of the ocean floor and the strong arms over the thermite charge to one after the other. All of them looking similar. Then a blur of motion.

“Stop! Enhance that!” the captain shouted, standing erect and pointing down at the monitor while shaking his index finger. “Now what the hell is that? Gordon, get over here and tell me what this is.”

Gordon ran to the monitor, bumping into the captain but he didn’t take notice. On the monitor was the blurry image of a hand.

“Well?”

“I can’t say for sure, but it looks reptilian. Like a three-fingered hand.” Gordon tapped the screen. “Looks like a really big hand, resembling a talon with those long claws.” He shook his head, unable to come to terms with such a bizarre occurrence. “This has to be an error. Some kind of signal interference.”

“Captain? We have some very unusual sonar activity.”

“What is it?” Captain Keeble was feeling ill. He was a confident, strong man that demanded a certain presence. Now he couldn’t keep the cold sweat from his brow.

“Something’s coming up, something very large.”

Before the captain could question, the ship was struck from beneath, knocking the vessel onto the port side. The captain was hurled through the window and disappeared into the sea with a handful of his crew off the bridge, all of them screaming. Gordon fell against the wall, shattering three of his ribs. Water began filling the bridge, shorting out equipment. A red warning light went off, screaming out to them in an automatic siren that there was something terribly wrong. As if being knocked on its side wasn’t indication enough.

“Kenneth,” Gordon spoke in a soft whisper. It hurt just to talk, but he had to. Kenneth lay only a few feet away, pinned against the sonar equipment. “Kenneth?”

Gordon leaned to his left, struggling against the pressure gravity was inflicting. He’d never felt so much pain as he did in his chest, sharp and agonizing. Kenneth lay motionless. Gordon gripped the wall as the ship shifted and groaned, the ear-piercing shriek of the steel hull being torn. A hand rose from the water, bigger than any creature he’d ever seen. It could have rivaled the fossil record. It was different than the hand they’d seen on the sub’s video footage. It’s gigantic hand looked reptilian as well, dark green and covered with thick scales. The hand had five curled fingers; the nails pushed their way through the fingertips like that of a tiger. It slapped down on the bridge, pulling all that remained into the cold, dark waters.

30

“C
areless pricks,” Andrews sighed, looking down at security feed from the camera placed outside the infirmary.

Andrews was finding less tolerance toward Daniels and his military brats each day. This was his baby, his special project, and he didn’t want these Special Forces fucks in here to mess it up. They needed skilled miners, men trained for the job. People that wanted to be here to make the difference, not those forced into labor like a chain gang. They’d gone and caused a cave in which would set them back. Now was not the time for any inconvenience. They were on their own for God knows how long. It might take every ounce of ore and oxygen to keep them alive until they could send out the supply ship and then wait another year to get a fresh batch. Six months there, six months back. It was becoming quite clear that there would be some rough times ahead. Life for all of them might have improved greatly if those idiots had been killed in the cave in. More rations to go around, less people using oxygen. Maybe except for the woman. She wasn’t as bad as the rest of those morons.

Andrews pressed a button on the monitor and switched angles, moving from the camera in the hallway to the one in the infirmary. Morgan was lying beside Christina, sheltering his arm with his eyes closed. Andrews leaned in close as the doctor worked quickly to pull off her suit. Christina lay motionless with an oxygen mask secured to her mouth and nose. She flopped about as the doctor jiggled her suit over her legs. Andrews felt aroused, watching her chest bounce.

“What a dumbass,” Gomez laughed as he entered the room, shaking his head.

Andrews quickly changed the footage, turning in his chair to hide his erection.

“Any updates?” Rodriguez took a seat at the monitors across the room, scrolling through the bulletins and latest transmissions. “How can there be nothing here? Not even that stupid newsletter we always get.”

“Switch to channel three and move up the board.” Andrews swiveled in his chair to face them, his penis back to its usual state of agitated slumber. “Check for any transmissions.” Andrews looked lost, staring off into the wall. “Look for anything at all.”

“What’s happening here, sir?” Gomez could read Andrews expression.

“We’ve been cut off. Severed like a wounded limb.”

“They wouldn’t leave us out here. These facilities are far too valuable.” Rodriguez shook his head, thinking it had to be some kind of training exercise. To see how they’d function if left alone to fend for themselves.

Andrews turned back in his chair, ignoring their worried faces. He had to keep things running smoothly. If he didn’t, all hell would break out and the miners would turn against them. If they hadn’t already? Perhaps having a trained leader like Travis Daniels around was too dangerous. Nothing he could do about it…for now anyway. There were more important things at hand. Now that they had all their pigs locked in the stalls, the next order of business was to find out what the hell this was all about. They’d never been without a continual link to the home world’s main station. Policies and procedures coming through daily, requests and status checks on the facilities, but there had been nothing. The link had been severed on their end. He thought a different approach might be worth a shot. Andrews scanned the airwaves to hopefully pick up any transmissions from earth, television or radio, but there was nothing.

“We have some magic happening here,” Gomez yelled back over his shoulder. “It’s a secure channel to the Alliance Space Station.”

Andrews stood from his chair and motioned for Gomez to move. He took a seat and fine-tuned the connection, turning a blur of static and colors to a close-up of a man’s face.

“This is Yuri Kopylov, Russian
cosmonaut
aboard the Alliance Space Station, do you copy.”

“We read you. This is Andrews, head of security at the Martian Facility. What is your current status?”

“That is very funny,” Yuri said without a trace of humor.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you making a joke, Mr. Andrews?”

“No, not at all. We need to know why we’ve lost contact with Earth.”

“Well that would make two of us.” Yuri looked behind him, down a dark corridor, but shook his head. “My crewmates have been reacting badly to the situation. The news is less than encouraging.”

“What news? We haven’t been able to see any transmissions.”

Yuri didn’t want to say it. He looked behind him again, looking nervous. “Not sure you want to know what’s happening down there.”

“Please, what’s going on?”

“Not that we have been fully informed ourselves, only bits and pieces from some random news stations. But it appears that the Earth has been suffering massive quakes. One such quake tore a hole in the ground and swallowed up the White House just an hour ago. Your President is not said to have survived. I am sorry.”

“That wouldn’t explain the loss of communication.” Andrew thought for a moment, wondering how something like that could have happened. Personally, he didn’t give a rat’s ass about President Noll. He thought the man to be nothing short of a colossal moron. He couldn’t imagine the state of panic the United States must be in right now after losing such a monument. He himself remembers the first time he saw the White House as a boy. It had been such a sight to see.

“You have received no formal communications from TransWorld?” Yuri was a bit surprised.

“We did receive one message a few hours back. It was very general.” Andrews thought hard on the wording. “Home office instructed us to move into a lockdown and to keep the supply ship docked. Something about ‘atmospheric conditions’ being too severe to pilot the ship back.”

“Atmospheric conditions huh?” Yuri smiled, shaking his head from side to side. “Is that what they told you?”

“What is it?”

“I am going to patch through a direct feed from our outer camera. You tell me what you think of this ‘atmospheric condition.’” Yuri hit a series of buttons and the screen went black for just a moment.

“Oh my dear Jesus.” Andrews was shocked to say the least. “What is happening over there?”

Gomez and Rodriguez huddled up behind him, leaning in over his shoulders to look down on the screen. The continual footage looked the same no matter what region it was focusing on. The once beautiful sphere of blue and brown magnificence was now a black swirling ball of storms. There was no sign of landmarks, no absence of cloud coverage. The lightning strikes lit up the darkness repeatedly, over and over again. None of them had ever heard of a planetary storm.

“How long has this been going on?” Andrews was shocked, his mind racing. He didn’t know what to think. They may have well been looking at an alien world.

“A few days, but this is the first time we’ve been unable to see a break in the clouds.”

“This is more than just a storm,” Andrews said softly, fearing the worst.

“I think we should keep this channel open at all times. As we have lost all communications with NASA, we need to stay connected.”

“I agree.” Andrews rubbed a hand over his face. “Please, let me know if you hear anything.”

“Yes, of course.” Yuri looked sad. “I wish we weren’t so far apart. I’m starting to feel very isolated here.”

“What’s the station’s compliment?”

“Twenty-two, but they’re all being very quiet. Suffering from shock.”

Andrews nodded. He himself was having trouble believing the footage.

“Andrews. I’ll be in touch very soon.”

Andrews nodded, turning from the monitor to face his men. All three of them shared a stunned expression. They were truly on their own now, cut off from Earth. Now they needed to survive. At all costs, Andrews was going to do everything in his power to keep them alive until this nasty business was resolved. If it ever could be.

“We need to round up the rats,” Andrews smiled.