Genre: Horror/Science Fiction
UNEARTHED
By Randy Romero
PART TWO:
…COMES GREAT RESPONSIBILITY
Tuesday morning.
“So let’s review…” Milton began. “We know that Tom Stahl
discovered the spacecraft in his backyard. We know the spacecraft contained parasitic
organisms. We know that these parasitic extraterrestrial lifeforms can multiply
and assimilate other organisms, and in turn, imitate them.
“To do this, the parasite attaches itself to the host and its
cells begin digesting and replacing the host, creating a perfect imitation in
the process. We know that they’re shapeshifters and our flesh is malleable to
them, that they can use our bodies as weapons. And we know that they’re strong
and they don’t go down without a fight.”
“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me,” Tucker said, but he
didn’t sound like his usual, arrogant self. There was a hint of doubt in his
words.
“Why did we even come to school today?” Riley asked. She
fished a cigarette from her pack and lit it with the tip of her finger; the
perks of pyrokinesis.
“If it got to Omar, it could’ve gotten to anyone our age,”
Noah pointed out. “We have to assume it got to some of the other students. And
we have to stop it from spreading, cut it off at the source.”
“That and it would look pretty suspicious if all five of us
didn’t show up for class,” Sasha said. “Just keep your eyes peeled and your
ears open. If we hear or see anything strange, we report back to each other in
between classes.”
Sasha twirled her short red hair with her fingers. It was a
nervous habit. They all had their own quirks. Riley would smoke when she was
stressed or anxious, hence the two-pack-a-day routine. And Milton would ramble
incessantly about any subject that was kicking around in that big brain of his.
Today’s subject was Super Mario Brothers.
“You guys remember the original Super Mario Brothers games
for Nintendo?”
“Nintendo came out before we were even born,” Noah said. “But
yeah, I think we’re all aware of Super Mario.”
“Did you guys know Super Mario Brothers 2 was based on
another game? Yume Kojo was released in Japan and modified for a release
in the US. They found the design of the original sequel to be too difficult and
also too similar to the original. That game was eventually released as The Lost
Levels.”
“I’ll file that under LIGF, for Like I Give a Fuck,” Riley
said.
“I’ve definitely heard that one before.”
“It’s a-me, Mario!” Noah exclaimed. “The Italian stereotype
who’s extremely confused about his job title.”
“If you ask me, Mario has a pretty sweet life,” Tucker said. “He
gets to eat mushrooms all day and jump on people’s heads and steal their coins.”
“I blame Princess Peach. That whore is always getting
kidnapped. If it wasn’t for her, Mario could get some actual plumbing done,”
Sasha said.
“Princess Toadstool is her real name,” Milton said.
“I thought it was Princess Daisy,” Noah said.
“Are we really discussing this?” Riley
asked.
Mr. Grayson, the gym coach, exited
his Buick LeSabre and shot them a look of disapproval. With his orange shorts
and tank top, he looked like a human traffic cone. Even in the most frigid
conditions, Grayson’s wardrobe never changed. And that black whistle was always
dangling around his neck. He never took it off. Tucker imagined he even wore
that thing when he went to bed.
Riley scoffed. “Creep.”
“Something about that guy has always
rubbed me the wrong way,” Noah said.
“He probably eats candy bars with a
knife and fork,” Milton said.
“He probably eats people,” Tucker
said.
Sasha locked eyes with Mr. Grayson
as he crossed the parking lot. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation or the lack
of stimulants, but when he blinked, he didn’t blink vertically, open and down.
She could’ve sworn she saw him blink from the sides, back and forth, just like
Omar Wright.
“Did you guys see that?”
“See what?”
“Mr. Grayson…his eyes…he…never
mind,” she sighed.
***
In the hall, Riley bumped shoulders
with Tanya Morgan, an olive skinned girl with her short dark hair in a French
braid, a three hundred dollar Louis Vuitton purse dangling from one forearm.
“Watch where you’re going you, you–”
“What?!” Riley snapped. “Go ahead,
say it! What?! Freak?! Is that what you were going to say?!”
Tanya scoffed. “Geez, take a chill
pill, Elvira.”
“Think she’s an alien replica?” Milton asked as Tanya
sauntered away. Milton’s telepathy was both a gift and a curse. It wasn’t
always a pleasure being able to read other people’s thoughts. And he had read
Tanya’s thoughts and knew exactly what the girl thought of Riley and the group.
She looked down on them. She thought of them as nothing more than freaks.
“No, she’s just a royal bitch. I’ve got to get to English
class. I’ll meet you at my locker when the bell sounds.”
They went their separate ways with Riley heading to English
and Sasha heading to her calculus class. Tucker usually skipped first and
second period, hung out in the library or the cafeteria or wandered around the
halls.
Noah couldn’t focus on his assignments. His eyes darted
around the room, perusing his classmates, all potential threats. Any one of
them could be an imitation. The fear and paranoia crept up his spine and seeped
into his brain. His feet itched to run for the door.
He watched Mrs. Macchio intently, waiting for some sign to
give her away, all while trying to watch his fellow classmates out of the
corners of his eyes. He heard the soft ping of someone’s cell phone in their
purse or pocket. Heard Kim Sutton’s obnoxious chewing as she crammed pieces of mint-flavored
gum in her mouth. Watched as Henry Smith and Chet Myers passed notes back and
forth. But he never once saw anything out of the ordinary. No one betrayed
their facades or gave themselves away as easily as he assumed. He was starting
to wonder if the paranoia was getting the best of all of them.
They met up after the first period bell. Tucker sauntered out
of the cafeteria with a cheese bagel, his eyes already glassy from the first morning
joint.
“You guys seen anything suspicious?” Milton asked.
“Nothing,” Noah shrugged.
“I’ve been roaming the hallways for forty minutes,” Tucker
said. “Haven’t seen a thing.”
“Riley?” Milton asked.
“See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.”
“Hey, where’s Sasha?” Noah asked, noting her absence.
“What’s her second period class?” Tucker asked.
Riley gasped as it dawned on her. “Gym class.”
***
The doors of the gymnasium were
locked from the inside. A note taped to the door advertised that all gym
classes were cancelled for the day.
“Red flag,” Tucker said.
“I’ve got this,” Noah said. “This is
where the superhuman strength comes in handy.” He gripped the door handles and
pulled them so hard the lock snapped. The gymnasium doors flew open. Sasha
stood at the center of the gym, surrounded on all sides.
Mr. Grayson was leading the pack.
Henry Smith and Chet Myers were among them. Riley scoped out the gym for Tanya
Morgan, but she was nowhere in sight.
Riley was about to put her powers to
use when Milton pointed out the cameras all throughout the school.
“Sasha, could you, you know?”
“Got it covered,” Sasha said. She
raised her hand and uses her powers to scramble the cameras without moving an
inch.
Riley fired up, literally. A burst
of flames shot from her palm and sent them all scattering like ants,
regrouping. They all seemed to function as one, communicating silently, likely
through telepathy, although Milton could not use his telepathic abilities to
read them or track their moves.
Tucker teleported from one side of
the gym to the other, taking cheap shots and teleporting away before they could
lay a hand on him. He wasn’t the biggest or the fastest, but his powers helped
him move around like a boxer. He’d teleport right up in their face, throw a
punch, and teleport halfway across the room. But punches didn’t seem to faze
this mob of replicas. Even Noah’s Superman-like strength was not enough to keep
them down for the count.
Riley heard a voice. It was Milton
inside her head, warning her to watch her back. She spun around and saw Chet
Myers sneaking up behind her. A jet of flames burst from her palm, setting his
clothes ablaze.
A tear formed in Mr. Grayon’s
forehead, continuing across the bridge of his nose, bisecting his lips. His
head, split evenly down the middle, unfolding at the sides, revealing a
ravenous mouth with row after row after row of jagged teeth.
Noah was throwing everything he had
at Henry Smith, who barely flinched as Noah’s concrete hands came crashing down
on him. Henry’s fingers started to grow at the tips, stretching out and
mutating to form tentacles. The tentacles snared Noah around the ankles,
pulling him to the ground.
Mr. Grayson advanced on Milton, his
bisected head ready to devour. Milton moved slowly until his back was up
against the wall and he had nowhere else to run. The others were preoccupied at
the moment. No one was coming to his aid. He had no choice but to defend
himself. He reached out and grabbed the closest thing he could find, which
happened to be a mounted fire extinguisher. He pulled it down from the wall,
pulled the pin, and blasted Mr. Grayson with it. A futile attempt, Milton
supposed, but he had to try something, anything.
Mr. Grayson, or the thing that had
inhabited his body, recoiled. The flesh bubbled and pulsated. A thick,
yellowish pus oozed from every orifice. The chemicals had dried it out, making
the skin and flesh look ancient. A putrid smell emanated from its body. The
smell of rapid decay as the dissolved and then petrified, leaving only an empty
shell.
“Eureka!” Milton exclaimed. One by
one, their classmates fell at Milton’s hands. The air of the gymnasium was
enveloped in a white fog of fire extinguisher clouds. Yellow pus and white fire
extinguisher residue covered the floor.
“Milton, you did it!” Sasha cheered.
“You killed them!”
“With a fire extinguisher?” Tucker
said.
“The powder in these things contains
sodium bicarbonate. It’s loaded with ions and salt. Looks like it dried them
out, like a diuretic.”
“You’re a genius,” Noah said.
“Tell me something I don’t already
know,” Milton said, busting his chops. “Riley, we have to get everyone out of
school for the day. I need you start a controlled fire in the upstairs
bathrooms. Controlled being the key word here. We don’t want to burn the school
down. We just need a mandatory evacuation and for classes to be cancelled until
we can sort this mess out.”
“Roger that. Don’t burn the school down.”
***
Riley didn’t burn the school down,
but she did manage to get the school closed down for at least a day. They had
all crammed into Noah’s blue Toyota 4Runner. They weren’t about to split up or
let each other out of their sights. Everyone in town was a potential threat, a
possible enemy. They kept their eyes peeled as they drove through Redfield. But
they weren’t the only ones watching. Every car they passed, every person they
saw on the streets seemed to be watching them closely. The fear and paranoia
was starting to spread as quickly as the parasites. How many people had been
assimilated? Was it the whole town? Had it got to everyone?
They headed straight to Milton’s
house to hide out in his garage and regroup. “I think we underestimated these
parasites. If we don’t stop it from spreading, they’ll take over the whole
town. Then it will spread throughout New York, then out of state. Then it’ll be
too late to stop it.”
“What can we do?”
“I have a theory. If we kill the
‘head alien’ so to speak, it might kill them all. They all seem to be connected
on some level, they function and communicate as one. Someone or something has
to be pulling the strings, a puppet master.”
“But how do we find the puppet
master? It could be anyone in town. It could be you,” Noah said with an
accusing tone.
“And it could be you,” Milton said
defensively.
“Noah’s right,” Riley said. “Where
were you when we were dealing with Omar Wright last night? Home alone. How do
we know it didn’t get to you?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Milton
said, getting loud, louder than the group had ever heard him get.
“Hey!” Sasha yelled. “Milton saved
our lives. How dare you guys accuse him of anything.”
“And how do we know it isn’t you?”
Tucker fired back. “You were the one who initially crossed paths with Omar
Wright. How do we know the parasites didn’t take you over too?”
“Riley was with me.”
“Actually, we parted ways when we
got to my apartment. I never saw Omar.”
“So you were all by yourself when
you saw him,” Tucker said.
“Yeah. So what?”
“So it could have easily gotten to
you.”
“Oh I don’t believe this crap.”
“How can we be certain?” Riley
asked.
“How can we be certain it’s not
you?” Sasha asked. “We don’t keep tabs on you twenty-four-seven.”
“I’m not one of them,” Riley said
vehemently. She was known for her vile temper. And with the power of
pyrokinesis, that made her a living, breathing weapon. Sasha had her own
abilities. Telekinesis. She could move objects with the will of her mind. And
she could do a lot more than that. If Riley and her ever came to blows, they
would annihilate one another.
“Enough of this,” Milton said. “We
need to put all doubt and suspicion aside. I have an idea. Have you ever seen
the movie The Thing?”
Milton used a syringe to draw their
blood, including his own. He puts the samples in petri dishes, and exposed them
to the residue of a fire extinguisher. He tasted his own blood first. No
reaction.
“Do Sasha next,” Riley demanded.
“Why me? Why not you?”
“Knock it off!” Milton shouted. He
tested Riley’s blood, then Sasha’s no reaction.
He tested Noah’s sample next.
Nothing.
“Last but not least,” Tucker said.
They all took a step back. Milton
took a deep, anxious breath. He lifted the petri dish and tested the sample.
No reaction.
Noah’s face reddened. Guilt washed
over him in a powerful wave. “I’m so sorry I doubted you,” he said to Milton.
“Don’t sweat it. We’re all tense, on
edge. But we need to stick together if we’re going to see this through. We
can’t turn on each other.”
Sasha hugged Riley and Riley
squeezed her back. They exchanged apologies and all was forgiven. That’s how
strong their bond was.
“Wait a minute,” Milton said. “I
think I know how to find the puppet master.”
***
Milton stared down at the egg-shaped
crater in Tom Stahl’s backyard. This was where it had all began. This was where
they’d find the answers.
“Why are we back here?” Noah asked.
“Tom Stahl dug this up. But why? What compelled him to just
start tearing up his backyard? And how long was this thing down here? It had to
have been here before he purchased the property. It could’ve been there
fifteen, twenty years. It could’ve been there for hundreds or thousands of
years. But something possessed him to dig it up. Someone or something wanted
him to find it.”
Milton heard a voice, a quiet whisper. He spun around and saw
that they were still alone. And he wasn’t listening in on his friends’
thoughts. Something was communicating with him telepathically. He followed the
whisper to Tom Stahl’s shed, where they had found the spacecraft that Tom Stahl
unearthed.
“It’s the ship,” Milton said. “It’s speaking to me. The ship
itself must be sentient, self-aware. It must’ve got in Tom Stahl’s head and
manipulated him into digging it up. It wanted to unleash those parasites on the
population. It wanted them to take over.”
“So is the ship the puppet master?” Sasha asked.
“I don’t think so. But only one way to find out. Riley, would
you do the honors?”
In mere seconds, Tom Stahl’s shed was engulfed in flames. Heavy
winds helped the flames spread rapidly, leaving only a pile of rubble and
smoldering ash.
“We have to get out of here before the fire department shows
up,” Noah said.
As they ran to his 4Runner, they heard the chirp of a car
alarm and saw Tanya Morgan exiting her Maserati, Louis Vuitton bag swinging
from her arm.
“Tanya Morgan is Tom Stahl’s neighbor?” Milton asked as they
drove away. He watched her in the rearview mirror as she stood outside and
stared as they sped away.
“I didn’t know that,” Riley said.
“Neither did I,” Sasha said. “I’ve always hated that girl. I
never really cared to get to know her.”
“This changes everything…” Milton said and trailed off.
***
Tanya Morgan had a full schedule on
Tuesday nights. She’d come home after school, shower and change, then head back
out to yoga class, followed by a trip to the gym, and then she’d finish off her
night with a cup of frozen yogurt from Buddha Berry.
So they drove around in Noah’s
4Runner to keep tabs on her. But she never showed up at six o’clock for her
yoga class. And her car wasn’t in the gym parking lot. And by eight o’clock,
Buddha Berry was deserted and getting ready to lock up for the night.
They drove past her house again,
cruising slowly as the fire department was now on the scene. Her Maserati was
no longer parked in front of her house.
“Where did she go?” Sasha wondered.
“I’m trying to get a reading, but I
can’t pick up on any of her thoughts,” Milton said.
“She’s a spoiled rich brat,” Riley
said. “Where would a spoiled rich brat go?”
“She’s too young to get into any
bars or clubs, unless she has a fake ID. Most of the pretentious rich bastards
in our school usually loiter at the coffee shop.”
“Tanya Morgan hates coffee,” Noah
said. “And she thinks her shit doesn’t stink, so she wouldn’t be caught dead in
that coffee shop.”
“Noah, do you remember exactly where
you found Tom Stahl’s remains?” Sasha asked.
“Of course. That hike is part of my
daily routine. I always jog on the same trail.”
“Then that’s where we’re going.”
***
Noah lead the way, taking them to the exact spot where he
found Tom Stahl’s skull and bones. The spot was lit up with torches where a mob
of about twenty people had gathered. Tucker assumed they were not there to pay
their respects.
In the center of this mob stood a girl with olive colored
skin and short dark hair in a French braid. Tanya Morgan. The Puppet Master.
The parasites had tried to assimilate Tom Stahl, but his body
rejected the new cells and it had devoured his flesh and organs. They had to
find a new host. And Tanya Morgan was the next best thing. It was simply a
matter of geographical convenience. Tanya was Stahl’s next-door neighbor. The
parasites couldn’t latch onto him, so they took her over instead. The mob
parted like the red sea
Tanya stepped forward, tentacles sprouting from her face,
writhing and intertwining like strands of DNA.
“I’ve got this one,” Noah said. “You guys handle the rest.”
The mob came charging. All locals. Classmates, postal
workers, business owners, pizza delivery men. Tanya Morgan was building a small
army, taking over Redfield one person at a time.
Noah took a swing and missed. The tentacles protruding from
her face lashed around his lips and tried to pull him in. But Noah used all his
strength and pulled back, ripping the tentacles from her face. She shrieked, an
inhuman cry. But the pain was brief as the tentacles began to regenerate. Noah
his time on the football field to good use and tackled Tanya, taking her down
to the ground. Tentacles rose up and formed a noose around his neck.
Noah rained blows down on the entity formally known as Tanya
Morgan. But the thing refused to release its grip. The air was being squeezed
from his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. His face was starting to turn purple.
Noah pulled and tugged with all his might. The tentacles
loosened their grip. He wriggled free and tried to take in the air. His
reprieve lasted seconds as Tanya was already back to her feet. He looked back
at the others, who clearly had their hands full.
Milton was putting his secret weapon to good use. He’d
extracted the powder from a fire extinguisher, added water, and put it into a
tiny plastic squirt gun. One spray was all it took and these parasitic entities
were writhing and twitching and oozing pus from every orifice.
He tried to push his way through the mob and reach Noah, but
there was too many of them. Claws developed from Tanya’s manicured nails,
curved and razor-sharp. Noah came charging again, spearing her down. They
wrestled on the ground, Noah trying to use his weight to pin her arms down at
the shoulders. One hand sprung up and jagged claws raked across his chest,
cutting through his jacket.
He felt the sudden warmness as the blood trickled down his
chest. Tanya clawed and scratched feverishly at his chest, tearing through the
flesh, scraping the bones of his ribcage. Noah tried in vain to protect himself
by crossing his arms over his chest, but the claws sliced right through his
forearms. He tried to sit up, to force Tanya off of him, but he was losing
strength. He was pinned down and defenseless.
“Hey!” Milton shouted. The thing that had claimed Tanya
Morgan looked at him and growled, a primitive, guttural sound. “Eat this,
bitch!”
The concoction inside the squirt gun exploded in her face as
Milton used every last drop it contained. The tentacles retracted. It shrieked,
a horrible unhuman sound. Its flesh withered as a yellowish sludge discharged
from its body. One by the one, the mob began to drop like flies.
The group rejoiced, but their celebration quickly dissolved
into a nightmare as they saw Noah’s state.
“Noah!” Sasha cried. “You’re going to be okay! I promise! I’m
going to get you to a hospital! They’re going to fix you up! Just hang in
there!”
“He’s lost too much blood,” Milton said. “It’s too late to do
anything.”
“No, no, no!” Sasha cried, the tears streaming down her face.
Tucker was trying to hold back, but he just couldn’t do it and finally broke
down. Riley clutched Milton’s arm.
“You have to do something,” Riley said. “You’re a genius. If
anyone can help him, it’s you.”
Guilt and remorse slapped Milton right in the face. He was
powerless to save his friend. He never realized how much the group had depended
on him. He always thought they considered him the weakest link. But now he
could see how much they truly depended on him. And he was going to let them
down because there was nothing he could for Noah.
His eyes fluttered and closed and he took his last strained
breath. Milton checked for a pulse and couldn’t find one. “He’s…he’s gone,” he
said and cupped his hands over his face to hide the tears.
Silence filled the frigid air…until Noah coughed and rolled
to his side. The wounds on his arms, neck, and chest were starting to heal, the
blood starting to seep back into his flesh. He sat up suddenly, alert,
refreshed, as if he had just woken from a twelve hour slumber.
“What happened?” he asked. “Did we win?”
Tucker breathed a tremendous sigh of relief. “Yeah, buddy. We
won. We sure did.”
“How?” Sasha asked, mystified. “How is it possible?”
“Well, in addition to superman strength, it appears our
friend here possesses the healing factor.”
“Healing factor?”
“His body can heal and regenerate itself rapidly, like
Wolverine.”
“Of course you would compare it to Wolverine.”
“It’s the best comparison.”
“You learn something new every day,” Noah said, just getting
back to his feet.
“How do you feel?” Riley asked.
“Like a million bucks.”
“Is it over?”
“It’s over,” Milton said. “Tanya was the main host, the
puppet master, and the others were her puppets. With her gone, the rest will follow.”
“That means a lot of dead, petrified bodies popping up all
over town.”
“At least we won’t get blamed for it since nobody knows we
were involved. But that also means we can’t take any credit for it.”
“Who cares? We know what we did. And that’s all that should
matter,” Riley said.
“She’s right,” Tucker said. “Now let’s go celebrate. I’ve got
a ton of beer stashed away for the occasion.”
***
They sat in Tucker’s smoke-filled basement, getting a buzz
off his secondhand smoke. As an athlete, Noah preferred to keep his lungs
clean. Milton had tried it once, and made a complete fool out of himself at a
house party. Sasha and Riley smoked occasionally, but it was never their thing.
But today, none of them seemed to be bothered by it. They enjoyed the buzz. And
they were already high on the thrill of victory. They had won the battle, ended
the war before it even officially began.
“We did it again,” Tucker said, cracking open a beer and divvying
out the rest. “We saved the world.”
“Technically, we saved the town,” Noah said.
“Yeah but if we didn’t save the town, it would’ve been the
world,” Sasha said.
“Can’t argue with you there.
“Cheers,” Milton said, indulging in a rare-occasion drink.
“To the best group of superheroes since the X-Men.”
“Yeah, except we’re actually real and they’re made up,” Riley
said. She was dressed for the holiday season, abandoning her usual black
wardrobe for an outfit comprised of red and white and green.
“We’re the best,” Noah said. “A real force to be reckoned
with.”
“Yeah, the Freak Force,” Riley added.
“Freak Force,” Tucker repeated. “I like that.”
“To the Freak Force,” Milton said, proposing a new toast.
“To the Freak Force,” they all cheered, and for the briefest
of moments, all their troubles were forgotten.
