The Darkness (17 page)

“Gentlemen,
what you are seeing is a previously unknown, and most probably alien,
parasite
.
It infests its victims via the eyes, nose, and mouth through direct contact
with seeder ponds. We believe that explains the black eyes and mouth of the
aggressors. We believe these warm-water ponds were contaminated by the original
event
, and recreational swimmers were its first victims.
Next
.

“Again,
as you can see on this slide, this male has progressed in the transformation.
This male has developed muscle tissue and the organs are now enlarged. You may
also notice the texturing of the skin. At this stage, the carrier has less than
20% measurable human DNA. This group is more highly capable and cunning. They
have been observed planning and using strategy in attacks.
Next
.

The
room gasped and people began shouting, causing the captain to again get to his
feet and silence the crowd. The image on the screen showed a CGI-produced image
of a humanoid. It had a pronged reptile-like head, scaled skin, a bold chest,
and elongated arms.

“This
is an artistic rendering of what we predict the final progression will look
like—”

“Bullshit,”
a man in a state trooper uniform near the back yelled. “You trying to tell us
we’re being invaded by the Creature from the Black Lagoon?”

“Captain,
I don’t care what they are; just send me back so I can kill them!” another
shouted.

Captain
Nelson slammed a hand on a table at the front of the room. “That’s enough; turn
on the damn lights!” Nelson stood up angrily. “Listen for your name and
assignment, and then get your ass on deck to be outfitted and briefed by your squad
leaders. We assault at dusk.”

Chapter
21

Nervous men stood in long
lines and crowded along the back deck of the freighter as squads were divided
up, arms were issued, and ammunition handed out. Two tall Marines stood near
crates of equipment, pulling men from the line to be fitted with protective
armor. Jacob was snatched and, after a quick look-over, his police vest was
refitted with a chest rig holding nine thirty-round magazines for his rifle and
two fragmentation grenades. The Marine grabbed Jacob by the shoulder and spun
him clockwise, pulling on straps and tabs, and then applying tape to anything
dangling.

The Marine looked Jacob
in the eyes. “How’s it feel?”

“Heavy,” Jacob said.

“Okay, you’re good,” the
Marine said before shoving Jacob back into the line.

Jacob learned the
invasion force, even though critically short of men, had plenty of ordnance, mostly 
flown in from Reserve and National Guard armories in northern Michigan and
Wisconsin. Various sized watercraft were being positioned at the bottom of a
long stairwell as cardboard boxes full of uniforms and boots were dumped on the
deck. The empty containers were tossed over the side to make room for more.

The men were split into
squads and waited in long lines; some at ladders to board the small boats while
others were organized and led away to the stern to board helicopters. Jacob
looked out over the water at the gathered freighters and ferries. Ships of all
shapes and sizes stretched to the horizon while small leisure boats speckled
the water, bobbing amongst the larger freighters and transport ships.

Standing at the center of
the deck now, Jacob was near the middle of a stack of eleven men who were
members of his recently formed squad. He looked around in the chaos; the only
familiar part of his assignment was Murphy taking the position of squad leader at
the front. Helicopters orbited the flotilla, dropping in to pick up teams, then
rejoining the holding pattern above. Jacob stared up at a circling twin rotor
helicopter, curious about its destination.

“You don’t want to be on
them,” a soldier in line ahead of Jacob said, noticing his stare. The man was
wearing sergeant’s stripes and the name
Cass
was written on the front of
his helmet.

Jacob nodded
acknowledging the man. “Why’s that?”

“Air assault. They are
dropping inland off the beach, right on top of the bastards up near Michigan
Avenue; a long ways from where we’re going. They’ll be elbow deep in the shit
before we even hit the beach. Higher ups are hoping to draw the things off of
Grant Park and the lakefront so we can safely get ashore,” the sergeant said.
As he spoke, the man’s eyes followed a helicopter making an approach to the
rear of the freighter where a tight pack of soldiers were waiting.

“That’s insane!” Jacob
muttered. “They’ll be slaughtered!”

“Them’s the breaks,” the
sergeant said grimly, shaking his head before looking away.

“What about us?” Jacob
asked.

“Amphibious landing!
We’re on the boat teams… going right through the breakwater then slamming into
the wall. Hauling ass and digging in near the highway—traditional blocking
action against an atypical force. It’s good though; we’ll have wide fields of
fire and good cover over the highway… but all that depends on the air assault
boys pulling them off the waterfront.”

“This is good?” Jacob
asked.

Jacob was nudged from
behind as the line moved ahead and snaked around a container. His squad of
eleven moved into an open staging area just shy of the stairs leading to the
waterline. Murphy was there going over men’s equipment and dividing the group
into two halves. Murphy then moved against a container and pointed at a sheet
of plywood with a rough map sketched on it.

The map, which had four
horizontal lines running across it, was oriented so that the lake was at the
bottom; a straight line running along the bottom of the board represented the
lakeshore. Above the shoreline was another line designated as
the trail
.
A parallel line marked as
the highway
was situated over
the trail
.
 
A
shaded area labeled
park
was sketched in between
the
highway
and a final line near the top of the board. This line was denoted
as
Michigan Avenue
and was marked with an
X,
along with
the words
Air Assault.
At
the far left side of the board, at the
end of the shoreline, was a box marked
Castle
.

“Listen up,” Murphy said,
pointing at the board. “We will be hitting the shoreline here, just to the
right of the museum complex. When you hit the sea wall, move in to the trail
and wait for instructions. When everyone is on line, we will push forward and
dig in on the highway that we’ll find to our front.

“The air assault force
will be hundreds of meters inland; the Castle will be far down the shoreline to
our left. Our objective is to take the beach, drawing the black-eyes to us. We
need to hold them as long as possible before pulling back south to the Castle.
We have to create a pocket to allow for extraction of the survivors.” Murphy
turned away to push the soldiers ahead as more in the line tried to take the
spot by the board.

Jacob was sent to the
right and grouped as A-team. The soldier, Sergeant Cass, was placed in charge
of Jacob’s team. He moved them out of the line and formed them into a small
group.

Murphy handed out a roll
of what looked like duct tape to Jacob’s team leader and said, “Get this on
everyone’s back.”

“What’s it for?” Jacob
asked as the soldier spun Jacob around and twisted strips of tape into his
gear.

“Reflective tape. So the
guys in the sky don’t kill us.”

“Enough chitchat; finish
up with the tape and get on line by the ladder,” Murphy said, waving the men
back into two lines. “We have two small boats picking us up. A-team, I’ll be
traveling with you.”

A sailor pulled back a
gate leading through the rail and onto a rusted stair platform. Jacob looked
out over the water; the stairs ran down to the surface where another small
platform was attached just above the waves of the lake. Two small cabin
cruisers were tied on, swaying and rising with the swells of the freighter. Men
dressed in dark navy-blue camouflage and orange life vests were waiting at the
bottom.

“I hope you all don’t get
seasick,” the sailor said as he ushered the men onto the stairs.

Jacob gripped the rail,
not wanting to let go as fear settled in. He looked back at the man behind him
and saw the same look.

“You okay?” Cass asked
him.

Jacob took a deep breath
and thought of his family trapped on shore. He looked up at the sky and stepped
through the gate onto the stairs. “I’m fine.”

He grabbed the stair rail
and took the steps one at a time, steadying himself against the swaying of the
freighter. Murphy was leaning against the ship, talking to them as they
descended. Slapping backs and checking gear, he waited for the entire group to
reach the bottom before he fell in with them on the platform.

Murphy stepped to the
edge of the small landing deck, facing his squad. “There were close to three
million people in the city before all of this. We don’t know how many made it
out, how many are dead, or how many are fucking lizard people now. We messed up
early; we didn’t know what we were fighting and we went soft on them.

“Not this time! No riot
shields, no flex cuffs, no arrests, no rules of engagement. If they run at us, shoot
them; if they are on the beach, shoot them. If they have solid-black eyes,
shoot them. We need to attract every damn lizard person in the city to our
position. It’s the only way we get our people back. The only way we get our
families evacuated from the Castle. We have to get the landing zones clear so
the birds can get in and back out.

“Your team leaders have
been picked for a reason; follow them. Now let’s get out there and kick some
reptile ass!” Murphy shouted, signaling the sailors to begin the boarding of
the small boats.

Jacob followed Cass to
the right. “Mount up,” Cass said.

A sailor pulled the small
boat in tight while another grabbed Jacob’s arm and helped him onboard. “Don’t
fall in,” the sailor warned. “With all that armor, your ass will sink to the
bottom like a brick.”

 Jacob nodded and nearly
tumbled aboard the small Bayliner speedboat. Painted white with red pinstripes,
it was no assault craft; the bow was covered with a red liner and had a glass
windshield and two captain’s chairs in the front. Murphy quickly moved aboard
and dropped into the seat on the left, while the rest of the team was ushered
and crammed into a U-shaped bench in the back. The passengers’ knees and
shoulders pressed together in the tight space.

Sitting heavy in the
water, the boat was filled and pushed off. The sailor moved away from the side,
plopped into the driver’s seat, and started the engine. It gurgled to life as
the smell of gas and oil mixed with the lake water. Jacob could feel the vibrations
under his seat as the sailor moved the motor to reverse. The small boat rose up
on a lake swell then drifted back while being pulled away by the engine. The
wheel was cut, and they moved alongside the tall freighter. Families looked
down at them from the top rail; some waved but most just stared with shocked
and scared faces. The sailor slowly opened the throttle, allowing the bow to
lift, and they broke away from the freighter on a course to open water.

Black smoke billowed on
the horizon over the otherwise clear sky. Small specks ahead quickly
transformed into an armada of various boats as they approached. Police boats,
Coast Guard patrol boats, cabin cruisers, and speedboats of all make and model
were floating together in a packed cluster.

Murphy spun around in his
chair and looked at his watch. “Weapons on safe, locked, cocked, and ready to
rock; it won’t be long now.”

Jacob followed Cass’s
lead as he locked back the bolt on his M4 and fished a magazine from his vest,
slapping it home and letting the bolt slam forward.

Murphy grinned watching
Jacob. “Might make a soldier out of you yet.”

He looked back up at
Murphy as boats throughout the formation began beeping and blowing their horns.
The sailor upped the throttle of the boat and fell into line with several
others. The mass broke from a cluster into a deep formation of several rows.

“Listen up. When you get
to the wall, get the hell off this boat, stick with your team leader, listen to
his instructions, and do what he says; we fight as a team!” Murphy yelled over
the wind and roar of the engines. “Nobody gets left behind. Nobody gets taken!
Make damn sure neither
you
nor your battle buddies are taken
alive
!
Got it?”

“Hooah!” the soldiers
replied. Jacob nodded, feeling overwhelmed.

With a feeling of
impending doom in his gut, Jacob’s legs began to shake and the rifle rattled in
his grip. Cold water splashed over the bow, soaking his uniform top. A soldier
across from Jacob held a silver cross to his lips, his eyes closed in prayer. With
a grin on his face and caressing the grip of his rifle with his gloved hand, the
state trooper appeared excited. The air roared as dozens of attack helicopters
flew low over the water heading inland. Men in the boats pumped their fists at
the gunships. Then another formation of larger helicopters full of air assault
troops garnered the same response as they sped by overhead.

The coastline
materialized out of the smoky mist. A sortie of fighter aircraft flew parallel
to the beach dropping bombs, and a wall of flames erupted within Grant Park.
Attack helicopters, looking like swarms of bees from the distance, flew in
maintaining a high altitude before stopping to hover just offshore. Volleys of
rockets and explosive projectiles were let loose and churned up the ground in
the direction of Michigan Avenue, softening the landing zones. The gunships
peeled off and orbited as the Black Hawks, Chinooks, and Sea Knights approached
the beach from the west before disappearing into the black smoke and fire over
the park.

With his thoughts
occupied on watching the air assault, Jacob lost track of his own situation. The
boat slammed hard in the water, snatching Jacob’s attention back to the beach. He
glimpsed the passing through the breakwater and the sea wall quickly approaching.
Boats bunched together as they breached the breakwater entrance then spread out
to race toward shore, already under fire. The pilot of Jacob’s boat cut the
wheel hard to line up with a hole between the other boats; he gunned the engine
and shot for a section of seawall just in front of Queen’s Landing and a large
flat concrete dock.

Rounds exploded in the
water. Men were on the boardwalk and firing at them. “Shit, the air assault
didn’t work!” someone yelled.

“It’s working; we can
handle the stragglers. Get ready!” Murphy yelled back.

The boat snaked left and
right, bouncing over wakes of the other crafts as rounds smacked the
windscreen. Jacob saw other boats hit the seawall and soldiers pouring ashore.
“We’re going in hot! Hold on!” the sailor at the controls yelled and opened the
throttle to the max. Just before hitting the wall, he cut the wheel hard and
slammed the throttle forward, forcing the boat into a swift turn and rapid
stop. The boat’s momentum lifted it from the water and slammed it against the
wall.