Chapter 6

Jed Tucker stood behind the glass counter of the firearm section of K&S Farm and Home. Jed was about five ten, well built and had a neat trimmed beard and wore jeans and a tan polo shirt with a K&S name tag. Jed had two semi-automatic rifles out on the glass counter. The customer he was talking to was a large middle-aged man with glasses and a frayed Seattle Seahawks cap, who was thinking and rubbing his chin, looking intently at the weapons.

Jed said, "Now, you can go with the AK47 instead of the AR15 route. If you like pretending you’re fighting for the Russians or the Chinese. And while you’re pretending, keep in mind you wouldn’t have any choice in the matter in those places."

"About your gun or that you’re fighting?" replied the customer.

"Both, my friend. But this is America," Jed spread out his hands and looked back and forth to emphasize their current location, "And at least for the near future you can choose. You can choose American and go with the AR15 or choose Communism and go AK. Now, I may be a bit biased in my choice of firearms to protect my property and loved ones, but even your choice of firearms means something. Something bigger than just a rifle, you know?" Jed picked up the AR15 and pulled the charging handle back and let it snap forward.

"But it’s up to you, my friend. And I leave it up to you because I believe in your freedom to choose," Jed held up the black AR-15 rifle carefully like a newborn baby.

"Hmm," the customer said, rubbing his chin.

Earl Krupp walked towards the firearm section, saw Jed with the customer. And pretended to browse the isles, listening. Earl was on the heavy side of husky, six feet tall, wearing a baseball cap, flannel and an orange and yellow reflective vest.

"I guess I need to think about it. When does the sale end?

"Tomorrow. And I don’t mean to put on the hard sell, but I’ve had some interest in this particular rifle. Not sure when we’ll get another in."

"Okay, I’ll probably be back," he said finally and slunk away.

"Sure, have a good day sir. Talk it over with the missus," Jed breathed out hard and pulled out the magazine and checked the breech.

Earl saunterd up to the counter and picked up AK-47 rifle.

"Earl," said Jed flatly.

"Jed," said Earl and felt the curves of the wood and steel, "Sorry you didn’t make the sale."

Jed shrugged, "What do I care."

"Mmm. Did you hear about our old principal Reddy?"

Jed took the rifle away from Earl and put both weapons up on the wall behind the counter. He flipped around the big yellow tags showing the sale price.

"Yep, I heard he got himself mixed up with a cougar or bear or something."

"As I remember, he expelled you for pulling the pants off of Chloe Shuester."

"I’ll have to thank that bear," Jed turned around with a smirk. "Reddy and I never did see eye to eye. Don’t know why he hated me so much." Jed put the cartridges back into the boxes and magazines in the glass counter.

"Wanda’s friend, Ronda is a nurse at the hospital,"

Jed slowed his movements, "She the one with the big cans and the busted up face?"

"The very. She said it weren’t no bear and it weren’t no mountain lion. The work was too, ’precise,’ was the word she used. Wasn’t a man either. The cuts were from claws and teeth, but the placement was that of a surgeon. Her words."

"So, she says."

Earl nodded looking at the handguns behind the glass.

"Uh huh. And you make a special trip down here to K&S. Not as a paying customer I assume."

"I already got guns."

"I’ve heard all about your guns, both presently owned and to be purchased with funds unobtained. So, I’m thinking, that you’re thinking, we could go out there and bag whatever this thing is?"

"The thought occurred."

Jed finished restocking everything and turns around to Earl, "If that Alan isn’t fucking late again I’m off at five. How about I pick you up at six."

Earl slapped the the glass case with his fist and smiled, "I’ll be ready."

Earl walked away. Jed wiped his nose with his sleeve.

"Earl," said Jed.

Earl turned around.

"Don’t be ready, Reddy’s deady."

Earl snorted a laugh and walked down the isle. Jed watched him as he slowed and investigated a fishing rod at the end of the main isle. He flexed it and instead of putting it back in the display leaned it precarisously again the display, sticking out into the isle.

Jed shook his, turned to the stacks of ammunition behind him and slid out a box of 308 shells. He slid one out and held it up, inspecting the dull gray miniature spaceship, sitting atop the tall brass rocket.

"Reddy’s deady," he said to himself and chuckled. He closed the box and rang it up for himself, deducting his fifteen percent employee discount.

Chapter 7

Wendell walked along Main Street. Cars, trucks and semi’s rolled past. People walked in and out of shops carrying bags and putting receipts into their wallets. Wendell hesitated in front of the Driftwood Café. He breathed in deeply and walked in.

The Driftwood was busy for the lunch rush. A couple people were waiting for for take out. He scanned the room briefly and walked over to the counter. Maeve Harris wiped her hands on a towel and walked over.

"Hello Wendell, what can I get you," Maeve said with a smile.

"Hey Ms. Harris, I’ll take a small coffee, black."

"I think I can manage that. Comin’ up."

Wendell threw a few dollars on the table. He scanned the room again. It a booth in the back of the room sat a short white male with thick glasses and a white mesh farmers baseball cap. He was wearing slacks and an unstylish short-sleeve business-casual shirt. He looked at Wendell and put his head down. Maeve brought over the coffee.

"Thanks," he said

"Say hello to your mother for me."

"Sure, will do."

Maeve gave a puzzled look to Wendell, but an order was up and she walked back to the kitchen. Wendell approached the table from an angle. The occupant didn’t look up, He sat down as if the bench might not support his weight.

The patron raised his head an inch as Wendell sat down. He was wringing his hands. He noticed this and put his hands down at his sides. There was an untouched hamburger and fries in front of him.

"You’re Wendell?" he said.

"Yes."

"Shit, I shouldn’t have said that." He looked down again at his burger, "I should’ve made you confirm your name. " He cracked a smile, "I’m out of my league with this stuff."

"Me too."

"And you are?"

"Glen Nielend. How old are you Wendell?"

"Twenty-one."

Glen scoffed, "I never thought I’d be in a situation like this," He picked at his fries with a fork. He looked at other patrons of the Driftwood.

"Little by little they eat away at you. You don’t even know its happening. You compromise on the little things. And you tell yourself you need the money and an opportunity. And you need the money. And after a while you get used to a certain lifestyle: fat mortgage and car payments. And then you’re sitting in a booth with a boy reporter because... something happens to remind you of who you are and what is right."

Wendell nodded, "I understand."

"No, you don’t," as if he was just calmly stating a fact, "I’m ashamed, ashamed to sit hear in front of you. Ashamed of what we’ve... what I’ve, been working on all these years. I realize now my employer must be stopped."

The newspaper with the headline of Principal Reddy’s death caught Glen’s eye. Wendell watched the direction of Glen’s gaze.

"And I should have done it sooner."

"And what is it, exactly?" Wendell got out his phone, "Do you mind if I record this?"

"Yes, I do mind. I told you, I’m not going on record yet."

Wendell pressed, "Then what is this all about, or are you just wasting my time?"

Glen ate a fry, leaned back and crossed his arms, chewing. Wendell waited and swallowed hard.

Glen smirked, "Don’t pressure me. I’ll walk. I think you know I’m for real. I’m going at my own pace. And just a recording of a ’source’ wouldn’t do much without concrete evidence, would it? You’re going to have to work for this. I’ll point you in the right direction."

"What are you deep throat?"

"Yeah, I’m fucking deep throat. And that turned out pretty well for Woodward and Bernstein didn’t it?"

Wendell thought about it, "Alright, so where do we start?"

"You, start with the contracts the Federal Government has with Gentronix. That’s all public information. What the contracts are for, are not, but its a start. Why aren’t you writing this down?"

Wendell mumbled an apology, feeling his pockets then he produced a small note book and a pen.

"Take a look at the skill sets of the scientists and programmers on the project. Read their papers."

Wendell sighed, "That’s going to take a lot of time."

"It will. If you get the supporting evidence, I’ll give you a show stopper. Then you’re ready to publish. You’ll be famous and they’ll be in jail and I’ll be blacklisted for the rest of my life, assuming they cut me a deal."

Glen opened his wallet and threw some bills on the table. I’ll contact you tomorrow to see where you’re at," he slid out of the booth.

Wendell, surprised, flails for something, "Wait…Can’t you give me a clue?"

"No. Do the research. I’ll contact you."

Glen walked out the door. Wendell frowned and looked at the paper. He turned it around, exposing the article "Beloved Retired Principal Dies in Gruesome Animal Attack by Wendell Wong."

Chapter 8

Harold walked into the command tent. Tom was sitting behind his desk, trying to get a word in on the phone.

"Yes, General, you’ll be the first to know. Alright General, goodbye," Tom hung up the phone and looked at Harold, "What is it?"

"Sir, I’ve just spoken with IT security with Gentronix and they’ve found something you should see."

"What you got?"

Harold placed a print out in front of Tom.

"And what am I looking at here?" said Tom.

"Gentronix has always tracked the number of files copied by employees. But they’ve never really done anything with the data. But after the break out they went back and looked at it. There’s an employee here who copied a lot of data a week ago, a Glen Klinerstad. It was an unusual spike for the employee. No idea what was copied or if it was related to the break out."

Harold paused for effect as Tom looked over the records. "We could have NSA setup a surveillance," he offered.

"Do it."

As Harold gathered up the papers, Tom continued. "But you know, I want you to keep tabs on him as well, personally. I’ll take direct command of the unit. We need to find out fast what this guy’s done or planning to do. Do whatever is necessary. "

Harold saluted, "It’ll be a pleasure sir," He walked swiftly out of the office and made a call.

Chapter 9

The Bleeding Ridge library was a red brick building near the center of town, a later addition was erected at the rear of the building. Wendell sat at a row of wood desks hear the windows in the newer annex. He wrote a note on his laptop put the printout in front of him on a pile to his right. He pulled another print out from a stack on his left.

The next morning Wendell walked across town to the library with a full backpack. He said hello to the librarian

"Back again?" she said.

He walked to the back of the library to a study table. He pulled out binder of printouts, his laptop and a sanwhich in plastic wrap. A few hours later he looked at the clocked and called Claire.

"Yo," she said.

"You free? I think we should talk,"

"Are you going to a meeting with—"

"No. Don’t. Don’t say anything over the phone,"

"Okay okay, sorry. So you think the NSA is monitoring your phone. Cause I’m sure they’re bored. I’ve even seen your broswer history, so clean. Mine is fucked up."

"Listen, the NSA might be interested in me, I’m a pretty interesting guy. Are you free?

"Yeah, I guess."

"Cool, meet me at the library."

"Ooh, the library. Such a mysterious setting for a spy movie."

"I like the library. It’s quiet and there are books."

"True. See you in about fifteen."

"Alright,"

Wendell hung up smiled and combed the internet.

Thirty minutes later Claire walked in with sunglasses and a to-go coffee. She plopped down across from Wendell at the study table."

"Okay super sleuth, what you got?"

"Get this. The top researchers at Gentronix either do genetics or computer science, usually both. So, whatever they’re doing, they’re using computers to manipulate genetics. The drift of the research these scientists are doing is modeling various genetic changes on computers before they actually grow anything. They’ve also got people who have worked on artificial wombs, basically so they can mass produce anything they create. Now, these are DARPA contracts. So, we’re talking weapons, or at least things that can be turned into weapons. I think they are weaponizing some animal. Some of the scientists have worked with primates, and they’ve hired an expert in primate behavior.

"So, what do you think they’re actually doing?"

"I think they’re weaponizing apes, turning them into weapons somehow. Maybe suicide bombers or minesweepers or something."

"Okay, But you don’t have any real evidence. As you know, extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence."

"True, I don’y have any hard evidense yet, but I have my source. And once I’ve done all the background research, he’s going to give me the proof to publish."

"So this source is male."

Wendell leaned back, surprised.

"Now, why would this guy contact you, rather than go to the Washington Post or even the Seattle Tribune? No offense, but the Bleeding Ridge Tribune isn’t exactly a powerhouse of journalism.

"Yeah I know. But this guy is really paranoid. He thinks the Military is monitoring his phone and emails. We’ve only spoken in person and left signals to one another."

"Signals? Like taping ’x’s on windows?"

Wendell paused, "He has a garden gnome that he turns around in his front yard."

Claire laughed loudly and covered her mouth, remembering where she was, "I suddenly feel very confident in this source now that I know about the garden gnome. You know, I’m supportive of the whole ’the truth will set you free thing’. But you know if this all happens you may be putting my mom out of a job."

Wendell spoke slowly, "Maybe, but I don’t know what her involvement is. She might be working on another project and have no idea what is going on. Who knows?"

Claire turned her head and looked out the window. She shrugged her shoulders, "I’m sure she’s got nothing to do with whatever this is. And she’s pissing me off with her secrets and everything. You do what you need to do, as long as its all true.

"Of course, totally," he looked at his phone, "Okay, I have my meet with my source in about half an hour. Can’t be late," Wendell starts gathering his things at the desk.

"You’re leaving? I just got here."

Wendell shrugged.

"Fine, I’m going to check out some books. And hey, regarding camping this evening can I get a ride?"

"Why are we camping again with some sort of crazy animal out there, that may be connected to what Gentronix is doing?"

"Oh yeah. Well, It’s fun to be scared. And this spot is like fifteen miles from where Principal Reddy was killed and on the opposite side of town. And I’ll bring my mace and my fists. I’ll protect you."

"Alright then. Pick you up at eight?"

"I love eight. Good luck with your spy thing."

"Thanks. Hopefully what I have will be enough."

Chapter 10

Harold looked for a parking spot. The compact rental car’s brakes chirped as he stopped next to a spot. The spot was just on the edge of Bleeding Ridge Park in the center of town. Once parked he scratched his chest under his peach colored polo shirt and adjusted his dark sunglasses and baseball cap. He slid out his phone from his jeans. A map appeared on the screen with an icon heading towards him from the upper left corner. He got out and looked around. About twenty yards away was a small food stand. An older couple waiting behind a mother ordering while a child pointed to something he wanted. The park was a city block with a pavilion at the center, trees scattered throughout behind diagonal sidewalks leading to the pavilion. He got out and looked at his phone again, a picture of Glen popped up. He strolled to the food stand. Across the other side of the park, Glen was walking towards the pavillion. He was scanning around, literally looking over his shoulder at times. Harold looked away and focused on the menu. Glen sat down on a bench and opened a newpaper. Harold bought a corn dog and soda and returned to the car. In between bites of a corn dog he pulled up a small monocular and watched Glen. He checked his mirrors, looking for anyone taking notice of him. He took another bite of his corn dog and sipped a soda. He tensed up and stopped chewing. Grabbing the monocular he furiously chewed again and adjusted the focus.

Wendell approached the bench. Wendell looked at his phone. They were sitting apart, not looking at each other, but clearly talking to each other.

"So, why did you say yes to my offer Mr. Wong?"

"People should know the truth."

"Even at great personal risk to yourself?"

Wendell shifted in his seat and crossed his arms, "Yes."

"This will make your career if we can pull it off."

Wendell crossed his legs, "I do want to be successful. As long as I do what’s right, I don’t think ambition and integrity are opposites."

Glen looked straight ahead, "Good answer I suppose. But you will face that choice someday I’m sure."

"Maybe. Why are you doing this?"

Glen licked his thumb and flipped a page, "I think it started a year ago when I started volunteering at the junior high, tudoring in math. The kids, some of them are such little shits. But most of them are really great. I don’t know. I guess it reactivated a part of myself that had been turned off for a long time. Something about being right with your fellow humans. I realized that there was no interpretation of what I was doing that helped my community, no matter the tangled, esoteric justifications I told myself."

Harold looked at the two through the monocular. They talked some more, their mouths moving. Glen got up and walked away. Harold followed Glen for a few moments with the monocular, but moved back to Wendell, still sitting on the bench looking in Glen’s direction. Wendell waited a minute or so and walked in the opposite direction,

"Who’s this scrawny spike-driver appearing in my glass?" Harold said. He waited until Wendell walked out of the park and crossed the street. Harold got out and dumped his soda and trash into a garbage can and followed him. Wendell went directly to the Tribune’s office and entered. Harold paused at the door, continued past and took at right at the next corner. At a newstand just inside a chain drug store he picked up that day’s edition of the Tribune. Back at the car he went through the paper, taking note of the bylines and made a call.

Chapter 11

It was late afternoon and the light tilted towards blue, gold and orange. Jed drove leisurely with an arm out the window in his black F150 pickup. He pulled into Earl’s driveway. The house was a rambler with chipped green paint and a few shingles missing from the roof. Earl’s decade old red Chevy pickup sat in the other space in the driveway. A white Ford Fiesta was in the open garage. A child’s power wheels type truck, hot rod pink, sat on the lawn, amongst the brown and green grass and thriving dandelions. Jed idled for a few seconds and honked. He looked at his watch and swore under his breath.

Earl burst out of the house with a rifle case and a backpack. The screen door slammed shut. He threw the backpack in the bed of the truck. He set his rifle carefully in the back of the cab and got in. Jed put the truck in gear.

"Hold up a sec," Earl said.

Jed rolled his eyes and put the truck in neutral.

Wanda opened the screen door, steped out and carefully closed it. She carried two brown sacks and a thermos.

Wanda stepped up on the truck frame and handed it to Earl. She leaned in for a kiss. Earl hesitated momentarily then pecked her on the cheek. Jed looked straight ahead as they kissed.

"There’s a sandwich in there for you too Jed. Be careful out there boys," she paused, "I won’t say don’t drink, but Jed, please bring Earl home in decent condition tomorrow."

Jed tried not to smile, "Okay, Wanda."

Wanda smiled and walked back to the house. Jed pulled out of the driveway and the custom exhaust amplified the engine as they accelerated down the street. Two young children ride on the side of the road on their bikes, tricked out with streamers and noisemakers. Jed gunned the engine.

"Can we stop for some beer?" asked Earl. "I got a flask by Wanda but it ain’t gonna be enough."

"I’m not drinking tonight. And no we can’t stop. We should’ve been out there by now. Be dark soon. And I don’t want either of us drunk if there really is something out there."

"Yeah, I guess. Well, I’ll be sipping on my flask, but I’ll keep it reasonable.

"Yeah okay," muttered Jed.

The town and forest quieted as the shadows lengthened their reach. Earl rolled down the window and his arm on the door. The sun strobbed as it cut threw the trees. The truck wound along the curvy steep roads outside of town and into a wilderness where a thousand screams would go unnoticed as if they never existed.

Three trucks labeled "Gentronix" trailed by three military Humvees rumbled in the opposite direction. They looked at each other.

"Maybe Canada’s become an enemy state," Earl said.

Jed smiled, "Bout time. Last Canadian brew I hoisted was a crime ’gainst humanity,"

Earl laughed.

They pulled off onto a dirt trail. Earl steadied himself against the tight turn. Jed drove hard through the forest as the trees closed in and branches slapped at the sides of the truck. Tall grass pushed up between the tracks. He left the lights off as the forest turned green black. At a tiny clearing he abruptly pulled off the trail and parked.

They unloaded their bags and equipment. Earl reached into a khaki vest pocket and took out a map, setting it on the back of the truck. Jed joined him.

Earl pointed to a spot on the map, "So, here’s where our former educator got hit. Figurin’ it’s a creature of some sort–and even if it’s a man–it’ll probably take the path of least resistance and stick to the game trails, that funnel between the two ridges, here and here. I figure our best bet is to lay down some bait at each, put up the cameras and wait here between ’em. Got the cameras real-time connected to my phone when they trigger. We can get to either one in a couple minutes.

Jed nodded, "Let’s get to it, we only got a few minutes before its totally dark

They picked up large camping backpacks, slung their rifles over their shoulders and hiked. Jed, in the lead, walked quickly and forcefully through the woods, ignoring branches in his way. Earl, breathing heavily and sweating, pushed aside the branches as he struggled to keep up. The sun was setting and the shadows grew long in the silent forest. They stopped in a small clearing.

After twenty minutes they reached the first spot and set up the traps. Earl flung a large rusting bear trap on the ground. He struggled to open it. He spread it apart, his arms shaking. The trap slipped shut with a snap. Earl snatched his fingers hands away and counted his digits, twice.

"Watch out you’re going to be like Harry’s grandfather," said Jed.

Earl turned to Jed, "The guy that got caught in his own bear trap?"

"Yep,"

"I heard about that, he was only like a quarter mile from Jasper, so close."

"Yep, he was a fiddler, used to play all around at the barn dances. He had the tools to cut off the hand. But couldn’t bear to lose it, no pun intended. He just screamed for three days and wasn’t found until the fourth. He’d tried to cut it off, but a little too late."

"Well, I sure wish someone would have been there to lend him a hand,"

They looked at each other at laughed. Earl crooked his head.

"But how’d they know he screamed for three days if no one heard him."

Jed looked at Earl like death and rolled his tounge around his mouth, "I think that’s assumed. Wouldn’t you?"

"Not for three days straight. I’d take breaks. Maybe try to use the dead hand to jerk the meat, make it feel real y’know."

"Well shit, I hope you sleepwalk tonight and take that trap for Wanda’s cooter."

Earl chuckled and went at the trap again. Strainging and grunting, the rusting metal sqeaking he pulled it open and set the trigger. Breathing hard again he got up slow and groaned. He staggered to his backpack, unzipped it and dug out a ziploc bag full of meat, entrails and blood. He carefully opened the bag and emptied the blood, liver and intestines onto the trap. After the last drips he tossed the bag aside and absentmindly licked his index finger clean.

Jed secured a wildlife camera on a tree facing the trap. Earl showed him how to use the app. Jed snapped a test photo of Earl pretending he was sittingon the trap, making a stupid surprised face. They snickered and Jed threw Earl the phone. They strapped on their packs, picked up their rifles and hiked on.

Chapter 12

Outside of town, Wendell and Claire turned off the highway onto a dirt road. The tall trees surrounded the car, meshing overhead and caressing them with low hanging branches as they passed. The light was almost gone and it became even darker as they left the open space carved by the highway. Up ahead, Wendell spotted a parked car a few yards into the woods. He squinted and slows.

"Yeah, that’s Scotty’s shitic,"

Wendell pulled up to the old civic and shut off the car, the engine taking a few seconds to cut out. The sounds of the doorsclosing elicited a muffled echo. Then all was quiet as they looked around into the towering silent trees and the green-black forest beyong.

A voice echoed out of the trees, "Hey you fuckers get over here!"

They smiled at each other and pulled out their gear from the trunk and hiked a few hundred feet over a couple small hills.

Whoops and laughter greeted them as two dark figured waved and jumped in the distance.

Claire whispered to Wendell, "Who are these trouble-makers? They look like a couple of druggers who are going to try to sell us drugs and then do drugs with us. Whatdya think?"

"Yeah, call the fire rangers cause they’re probably going to overdose and burn the forest down."

"Fuck yeah!"

"Hey!"

"Hey!"

The four greeted each other with hugs. Toni was around five three, short straight dark hair and more sweat pants and sweat shirt and green bandana. Scotty was tall and lanky. He wore a long sleeve grey knit shirt and skinny jeans. His face was expressive and lighthearted.

Flashlights winked as they pulled out tents and poles. The group did not work quickly, fumbling with the rods and canvas.

Claire struggled to untangle the stretchy stringed poles, "Glad we got out here while there was still light, so I can easily set up camp. You know, read the tent instructions. Although this is a good test.

She opened her arms and said to the forest, "Is this all nature can throw at me? I will straighten any pole with of any number of segments!"

Scotty also was not making much progress with his tent, "Dammit Claire" said Scotty, "I was going to take that joke and say ’usually I’m really good with rods,’ And also, you couldn’t come out earlier, I had to work late, so fuck off, bitch. But I’m an employed and production model," he paused, but continues, "of society."

Claire smiled, "I’m sorry. I wanted someone else to blame besides myself for my shitty camping skills."

"We should all just get one big tent next time. I mean why in the McEff do we all have our separate tents? Are we really that uncomfortable with each other?" said Scotty.

"I’m lactose intolerant and had a ton of cheese today," said Toni

"You had that cheesecake didn’t you? I thought we talked about the effect on your friends when we’re in close approximalminity."

Toni shrugged, "It called to me and I responded,"

"Your ass will be responding tonight!" said Claire.

"Boom!"

"Fine. Claire. Why won’t you sleep with me?"

"I need my space. Night terrors, I might stab you in the night,"

"Forget I said anything. Wendell, I guess its just you and me buddy."

"Umm."

"Its okay. I won’t force you to sleep with me and turn gay."

"Thank you, I am scared of your gay guns."

"What these gay guns?" Scotty flexed and pointed at his biceps. "Hey lets forget these tents and get this fire going. These marshmallow aren’t going to burn themselves people. Hop too it. Get those tree parts."

In a few minutes the fire lit their patch of forest and the four huddle around it, roasting marshmallows and hot dogs.

"Scotty, still getting high at work before your shift starts?"

"Oh, okay, yeah. After seeing the latest Disney sequel for the twelfth-hundred time, you need a little reality alteration to keep from going insane. I still adequately perform my movie duties. I’m an extremely adequate employee."

"No judgment, just giving you a hard time. I’m glad we’re out in the woods. With all the furry creatures and all the wood," She began to yell again "Hey woods! Do you mind if we burn some of your dead buddies and dismembered body parts right in front of you?"

The group chuckled a bit, "You’re funny sometimes," said Wendell.

"I know, yet it doesn’t translate into useful life skills."

"You could be like, a comedian, like Seth Rogen," said Scotty.

Claire dipped into a passable Seth Rogen laught "Huh, huh, huh. Yeah, that’s totally a viable career path. It’s not like being a good writer like Wendell here."

"Yes, journalism! An exploding field, full of opportunity!"

Toni piped up, "Oh yeah, how’s the internship going? I saw your name on that story about the farmer’s market. That’s so cool."

"Thanks. Yeah, its been good so far. Learning a lot. Getting my hands dirty. Learning how to research, get the details right. Though I’ve realized I’m not as good of a writer as I thought I was. I get a lot of red ink on my pages from Mr. Barnes."

Toni continued, "Cool. Got any big scoops you’re working on? Any politicians, you know doing scandalous stuff? Like having sexual relations with farm animals. Gimme the dirt. "

"Or trying to get farm animals to practice abstinence?"

"You know I cover the city council and its super boring and I’d be surprised if anyone on the counsil has does as much as spit on the sidewalk. But… I am working on something," Wendell and Claire exchange glances with Claire narrowing her eyes, "But its too early. I can’t say anything,"

"Never reveal a source. Reporter-client privilege." Said Scotty impaling a marshmellow on a stick.

"Sort of,"

Claire clicked her tounge, "Wendell doesn’t know anything. He has no sources."

"Oh I don’t know about that," he responded.

Claire looked at Wendell who leaned back and stared at the fire.

They sat in silence and watched the fire. Toni looked at Claire and Wendell, "So how come you two never hooked up. Or have you started to hook up and haven’t told us?"

"Mmm hmmm. Good question Tone Loc," said Scotty blowing out a blazing marshmellow.

Wendell crossed his arms.

Claire shifted in her seat, "Oh Bejeezers," she said.

"That’s’ not an answer,"

"Well. I don’t know. We’re friends."

"And?" Scotty pressed.

"And well, you know. I don’t think Wendell and I have ever talked about this. So, we’re in uncharted waters here. I don’t know that I have anything else to say.

Wendell, over to you, for a live report, from the front."

"Oh, um. I guess Claire and I are, you know, friends.

Toni and Scotty exchanged a sly look.

Toni continued, "We know that dude. We’re asking why you two haven’t, how to put this delicately, porked?"

"Made the sexy time," Scotty added.

"Bartered for the baby batter."

Claire impersonated a conductor cutting off the music, "aaaand done."

"I know Claire had a crush on me in grade school," said Wendell.

Claire shook her head. Scotty and Toni scooted forward in their seats laughing.

"What?" screamed Toni.

"Okay. That. Is true. It was only spring of third grade and that summer. I liked Wendell’s little polo shirts and dress shoes that he wore. I was very shallow. Then I’m sorry to say, Heath Roberts caught my attention in fourth grade and I…I still love him."

"What? Isn’t he married to Ariel Janson with like three kids?" Toni said.

"Yes," said Claire looking off into the distance , "but I will have him someday. It is fated. I will bear him more children than Ariel has. How did you know?"

"It was Jesse. Jesse what’s her name…Ryder. Jesse Ryder told me."

"That little bitch. I did tell her at a sleep over. Well, sorry I was such a fickle grade schooler."

"Oh well,"

"So, what else can we talk about besides this? What funny things has everyone seen on the internet? I hear there’s always something awesome on the internet! And the social media!"

Scotty’s face brightened, "Oh! I heard that we’re going to have an earthquake soon! Yeah, these sizeologists," Scotty pulled out a plastic bag of marijuana paraphernalia and a paper plate. He rolled a blunt.

"Mologists," said Wendell.

"Yeah. They were saying they’re trying to predict earthquakes now. And scientists think the Pacific Northwest is overdue."

"Cause of those little earthquakes we had last month?"

"Earthquakes?!" both Wendell and Claire said in unison.

"Yeah, like a few weeks ago, " said Toni, then turned to Scotty, "How soon?"

"Fuck!" said Scotty, almost tipping the plate full of loose marjuana off his knees. "Like, anytime. They were saying all those little quakes and others we can’t feel are leading up to a big one or something. But not everyone agrees with the method, so its like, not an official warning."

"Shit, I am so fucking scared of earthquakes," said Toni. "I would never live in San Francisco or L.A. I mean, how do you live with that threat that at any moment the building you’re in could totally collapse and smoosh you. I can’t even live here anymore."

"Pass the blunt around yo!" said Claire as Scotty finished rolling the blunt.

Scotty lit it, took a hit and passed the blunt to Claire. She took a hit and passed to Wendell who immediately passed to Toni.

Clare started grooving in her seat and exhaled a puff of smoke and rapped.

You sluts and you Wiccas, light it with your Biccas.

If the earth starts shakin’, continue to get bakin’.

Eat your bacon.

Toni started to beat box.

Let the ground, move up and down.

I won’t frown, I’ll be high

In the sky, with Carl Sagan

and Bill Nye

Get it done, smoke it up,

pass it round.

Smoke some whiskey, slip a discky.

Rock in dockers, beach ball hawkers.

Forest choppers, eatin’ whoppers

You can put it in a bowl, or donut hole.

If its leaves off a plant, that’s organic,

that’s my rant

Everyone laughed.

"You really reached deep down for that one," said Wendell.

"Yeah, I really let go. Its good to be back home with you fine folks."

Chapter TBD

Jed and Earl crouched on a log in the dark. Jed spit out sunflower seed shells. Earl took a pull off the flask and offered it to Jed. Jed shook his head.

"Remember when we went down to Scootersville to see Hep’s Band?

Jed nodded, "I remember."

"And you took home Hep’s cousin, what’s her name…"

"Charline. No way to forget that."

"Charline. I’ve always wondered what she was like. Was she, how do I put this delicately, fun to bang?"

Jed’s smiled, then it faded, "Naw, not really. She just laid there, with her eyes open, staring into space, like a fish you pulled in the boat, wondering what the fuck is happenin’."

"She can read a book for all I care, for that sweet ass. If it wasn’t for Wanda, I’d be on that."

Jed shook his head slightly and spit out more seeds, "I’ll tell you. Sex isn’t always a life changing experience no matter how desirable the girl. It ain’t always a Buddhist high or a drunk’s moment of clarity. You got a good situation with Wanda, don’t fuck it up,"

They sat silent in the dark.

"And what exactly did Wanda see in you anyways?" said Jed.

Earl shook his head "Don’t know, but she said once she liked my name ’cause it sounded like royalty,"

Jed turns to look at Earl with a smile. "The Earl of Bleeding Ridge."

Earl and Jed laughed. Earl took another pull off the flask.

***

The flickering campire cut dim outlines of the tall fir and cedar trees towering over them against the black background. Sparks rose up into sky.

"And then I was like," Claire squeezed her nose, "puleez can I take this tomorrow, I’m toe tick.’ You know like those little droplets in comics to indicate someone’s sweating, that was actually me, like sweat was spraying out of me. And then because I was talking and I couldn’t breath through I my nose I got winded and then I violently coughed in my hot TA’s face before I could cover my mouth, and I stumbled backwards into a chair. He is super hot. And that’s how I got to take my Philosophy final late. And he was completely disgusted by me."

A twig snapped in the distance. Wendell looked up and into the night.

"Scared Wendell? Has the Wendigo come for Wendell I wonder?" said Scotty laughing and holding the roach.

The snapping and rustling intensified. Scotty stopped laughing.

Claire pulled out a can bear spray from her pocket, "What is that?"

All four get up and back away from the noises. Three soldiers walk out of the woods. They wore night vision goggles and had their rifles ready. Harold took off his goggles and smiled.

"Evening citizens. Shouldn’t be out here. The woods aren’t safe tonight, what with that bear loose."

Chapter TBD

"So, what do you really think this thing is?" asked Earl, "I think its a man. A psycho killer, who has built claws for hands and is killing people."

"Maybe. I know a guy who works at Fort Henderson. Saw him at Charlie’s last night. Said he was taking his wife and kid away for a while. I asked him where he was going for vacation. He’d had a few and he grabs my shoulder, looks me in the eye and said the vacation wasn’t planned and he advised me to take a trip as well. Said the devil was loose in Bleeding Ridge. So what is it? It don’t really matter. Because what it is… is something we should kill."

Earl’s phone buzzed and lit up. They leaned in to the screen. The image had the greenish hues of a low-light camera and updated every second or so. A dark blurry blob appeared and moved out of view. Earl looked at Jed and shrugs.

"What is that?" Earl whispered.

"I don’t know, but that is it," Jed whispered. He stood up and checked his rifle.

They moved swiftly and quietly through the forest. New images displayed on the phone every second. Jed raced ahead, outpacing Earl who slowed to look at the phone every few seconds. Earl looked around sweating and breathing hard, no Jed. Earl plunged through the underbrush, the trail diminishing to nothing, Earl pushed blindly through the ferns and tangled vines.

"Jed! Jed!" Earl whispered harshly between heaving breaths.

Earl fumbled forward, his face sweating face illuminated green from the phone. He saw something on the screen, another dark vertical blur.

"Jed! Wait! You don’t know! Don’t!"

Earl took off through the woods flailing at the branches and brush. He tripped on a root and tumbled into a muddy streambed. His rifle and phone flew away, the phone landing in the mud.

Earl crawled towards the still glowing mudd spplattered screen. The creature resolved. Tall, dark and hairy. In the next image it is gone. Jed arrived in the frame, his rifle shouldered. He looked down around at the bear trap.

Grunting and crying, Earl picked up his rifle and phone. Gasping for breath, On the phone screen, the blur hits Jed from behind, Jed’s face spinning in terror.

The screaming reached Earl a half second later. Then a long howl, then nothing.

"Jed. Jed!"

Earl bolted towards the screams. He approached the clearing where they had set up the camera and trap. Jed lay in the middle, disemboweled and bleeding from the mouth. Earl staggered towards him, trying to look in all directions at once.

"Where the fuck were you?" Jed his voice a raspy whisper, breathing hard, his face and chest slashed and a bone sticking out of his right arm, "You should’ve run faster,"

Earl opened his mouth to respond. Jed’s eyes widen, looking past Earl. The bushes rustled and the bear trap flies across the clearing, clamping onto Earl’s arm and shoulder. Earl yelled in pain, falling backwards. Gritting his teeth he Earl turned to Jed.

"You shouldn’t’ve run so fast. You know I can’t keep up,"

The quatchi yanked on the chain attached to the trap and dragged Earl. He looked around and his rifle was in reach, pendicular to the chain. He dove for it and just caught the strap before being yanked again. A growl erupted from the bushes as Earl brought the rifle to bear and pulled the trigger. The crack of the rifle echoed through the forest. The pulling stoped and the chain dropped limply onto the ground.

Earl got up and turned to Jed smiling, "I think I..."

The chain snapped taught again; spinning Earl around. Earl dropped the rifle and tried to open the bear trap. As he slid along the mossy ground Earl, tried to reload the bold action rifle with one hand, the other useless. Before he can bring it to bear, a long hairy arm with sharp fingernails shot out and ripped it away. It stepped out of the bushes, chain in hand. In the dark only scraggly hairy outline was visible, and the softly glowing yellow-green eyes.

The quatchi pulled the bear trap open, Earl screamed as the trap slid out of his flesh. Earl fell to the ground, moaning. He looked at Jed, who doesn’t look back. The quatchi picked up the casing of the round Earl fired. It plunged the casing into Earl’s neck and pulled it out. Blood spurted out of the small red circle. The quatchi picked up the trap, its chain rattling, and without effort opened it wide. Earl crawled towards the bushes a hand over his neck. The quatchi grunting in anger and snapped the trap shut around his face. Jed’s and Earl’s eyes met in death and saw only a little less than before.

The creature stood up, seven feet high and leaned back its bloody arms outstretched. Its howl morphing to a guttral growl.

Chapter 12

Early the next morning, Claire unloaded her camping gear from Wendell’s car. Jared wandered out of the house carrying his guitar.

“Hey Claire,” he said walking to his rusting hatchback, pulling out his keys.

“Hey Jared.”

“Just getting back?”

“Yep, went camping. Then tenting in Wendell’s back yard after some the Army told us to go home. You?”

“Just popped over to help out with something.

“Mr. Fixit.”

“Yeah, Mr. Fixit,” he repeated chuckling.

“Interesting household problem that requires a guitar to fix.”

“Oh yeah, you know, I just had it with me.”

“Sure. Thanks for helping out.”

“Yeah, not a problem.”

“Alright see ya.”

“Later.”

Inside, Claire dumped her camping equipment in the hallway and wandered into the kitchen carrying bag of camping dishes. Lauren stood by the coffee machine, staring at her.

“Yo. Mom.”

“Hey. Hi. Wait, where were you?"

“Camping. I texted you.”

“Camping!?” She turned and steadied herself on the counter, almost breaking the coffe mug as she slammed it down, “I didn’t get it.”

Claire looked at her, tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.

“That’s weird. Also, it was weird that these Army guys showed up. I guess they were looking for whatever killed Principal Reddy. Friends of yours?”

Lauren composed herself, but her voice shook.

“No. But glad you’re home,”

"Yeah, we pitched our tents in Wendell’s back yard, pretty scenic."s

Claire walked to the sink and washed her camping gear. Flecks of marijuana spilled out of her camping dishes. Her eyes widened and she hurriedly swept it all down the drain. She turned on the garbage disposal for a few seconds. She sniffed the air for any odor.

“If you’re embarrassed I saw Jared leaving this morning, don’t be. Its fine if guys stay over. That’s your business. And I’m, you know, happy that you’re living life or whatever.”

Lauren smiled, holding back tears, wrapping both hands around the mug.

“Oh, okay, thank you honey. I appreciate that."

“I mean as long as its cool if I also bring dudes home.”

“What?” said Lauren, raising her head.

“Just kidding, I’m not going to do that…not here anyway.”

“You’re so funny. Enjoying your time off?”

“Yeah,”

“And do you have any job interviews?”

“That, is an excellent question. No, I do not have any interviews at this particular time. I have my people working on it and I expect to have something any day now.”

“Alright, just so we’re clear. You can’t just sit around here all summer.”

“I know, I know.”

“I’m glad to have you home. But you also know that I want you to work and to have lots of job experience before you graduate. Its more important than ever.”

Claire dried her dishes and rolled her eyes slightly, “So, speaking of jobs, Wendell wanted to ask you a few questions about what you do.”

“You know I can’t talk about what I do. Its super-secret, double-secret with whipped cream on top.”

“He knows that. I’ve told him. I think he’s more interested in you, from a managerial standpoint. As a successful female executive in a high tech bio-company. A role model. Yes, a role model to girls everywhere thinking about a STEM field."

Lauren paused, “I don’t know. I can look into it, but I’d have to clear everything beforehand, all the questions, with my superiors. We’d need an agreement in place that says Wendell won’t make the company look bad.

“Boring,” Claire dried her hands on the cotton towel hanging next to the sink and faced Lauren, “but you know the rumors I’ve heard over the years. Like there’s giant lizards in there. Or your’re cross-breeding hippos with Americans making a race of unstoppable fat people, rampaging and eating everything.”

Lauren went to the fridge and opened in, looking over the shelves.

Claire laughed, “Can you imagine that? These really huge hungry people that we set loose on our enemies and they eat everything and lounge in the rivers and tip over boats. But seriously, what are you doing in there? Why can’t you tell me? It makes me feel bad. And if it’s secret it has to be something you don’t want anyone to know."

"Lauren I’m sorry I can’t tell you anything. It’s the same answer and the same reasons its always been. We’re not doing anything bad. It’s really quite dry and annoying. Just red tape. The military doesn’t want the bad guys to know what we’re up to.”

"Oh so its the terrorists again? We can’t handle the truth because it’s for our own good? Where does that logic end, who decides where that line is?”

“I don’t have a good answer for you. But I’m glad you’re asking the questions. And I’m good at it. I do what I do for you. So that you have better opportunities than I had. Where do you think your tuition money comes from?" she stops and breathed. "Sorry, I’m not going to guilt you about tuition,"

Claire stiffened, “You could get some other job.”

Lauren let out a single laugh of exhaustion and despair, “Not easily. What I do is very…specific. Other jobs open to me are doing the same sorts of things. I suppose I could be a server at a truck stop diner or something. But trucker tips wouldn’t cover your prestigious liberal arts college education.

Claire cracked a smile, “trucker tips.”

“Yeah, can you imagine me as a waitress?”

“If you had to you’d do okay. Take no guff from those mesh hats.”

“The truth is the world is going to get harder. With environmental degradation, population increases, increased worker replacement by automation. The military needs... other options available, if necessary to protect whatever we have left. We want peace, but you’ll feel differently when the rest of the world wants what we have."

"That’s very dismal,"

"That’s a big word,"

"It’s only six letters," Claire walked away, picked up the rest of her gear and headed up the steps. Lauren, alone again, plopped down at the kitchen table and put her head in her hands. She rubbed her face and eyes. Her phone buzzed and she looked the text. She swore under her breath, got up, threw rest of her coffee down the drain and walked into the hallway. She paused at the base of the staircase, looking up. She gathered her things and left.

Chapter 13

Jeremy and Vernon sat at their workstations in the humming control room, alternating typing with scanning of the delicate maze of symbols on thier screens. The building began to vibrate and all the hardware in the room began to rattle. Jeremy and Vernon looked at each other.

“Earthquake,” said Vernon flatly.

“Save! Save!” yelled Jeremy.

They turned back to their workstations and clicked madly. The vibrating turned into shaking. A pen rolled off the desk.

The lights flickered, then went dark. The shaking turned into slower, wider vibrations.

"Out!" Jeremy yelled at Vernon, trying to stay seated in his bouncing and sliding chair.

The two stumbled out of the room and into the hallway. Everything not bolted down, desks, cubicles and chairs sloshed around. The building cracked and groaned above and below them in a surround sound nightmare. Tripping and falling they made it out a back entrance, the glass on the doors already shattered. The two stood outside the building and watched it sway, listening to the sound of falling glass and twisting steel and the aweful rumble of the earth beneath them.

Jeremy turned to Vernon, “Got my code saved. You?”

Vernon shook his head.

“Ha! Sucker.”

***

Lauren was getting into her car when the shaking started. She ran back in yelling for Claire. Claire appeared at the top of the stairs. They looked at each other in terror.

“Outside!” yelled Lauren. Claire slid down the steps holding onto the railing and they ran out the sliding glass door in the kitchen into the backyard.

***

Wendell’s fingers moved quickly and efficiently over the keyboard at the Bleeding Ridge Star Offices. The floor squeaked and shook. He stumbled out of the office and into the stairwell. Chunks of concrete and drywall fell around him and the timber and brick building creaked and snapped as he made his way down the steps, fighting for each step. He shot out into the street, escaping the breaking glass and bricks falling around him.

***

Tom ran his fingers through his buzzed hair and looked up at the ceiling of the trailer as he listened on the phone. Harold spoke on the radio and called out map coordinates to the searching units. The trailer began to gently sway the shocks squeaking. The two looked at each other.

The radio crackled, "Hey, are you shaking?"

"Like bacon on the dance floor. Earthquake. Take cover. Out." Said Harold. They heard branches falling outside and leaves floated down outside their window.

Claire and Lauren hugged each other, trying to keep their footing in the backyard. They watched the house sway back and forth. The earthquake evaporated over a couple minutes. Everything was quiet. Claire and Lauren released their embrace and look at the house.

“Looks like the house is okay,” offered Claire.

“I don’t know.”

A dog barked in the distance and a siren started up, then another. Claire took out her smart phone, “No reception,"

Lauren put her hand to her forehead. "Claire, I’m sorry but I need to get to the lab. I wouln’t go if it wasn’t very important."

"Why don’t you…" Lauren looked at the house, her mouth open. Her shoulders dropped, "You shouldn’t go in the house. There might be a gas leak or structural issues."

“Fine, I understand. Look I’ll head to Madison. I’m sure they’ll set up a shelter there.”

"Don’t go in the house for now,"

"You couldn’t pay me."

***

Lauren sped to Gentronix, the streets full of people out of their houses, wandering around. At Gentronix, she hesistated at the entrance, and looked around her. She peered through the glass and murmured a ’thank you’ when she saw the emergency power was on. In the operation room she found Vernon and Jeremy at their computers, working on code.

"What’s happening?"

"We had an earthquake earlier," said Vernon not looking up from his screen.

Lauren looked at him like death. She took a breath, "Thank you Vernon. But what are the relevanet effects of the earthquake? Vis-a-vi the monsters in the basement! Specifically, their current location!"

Jeremy waved, drawing Lauren’s attention, "we understand what you’re talking about and yes, everything is okay in the monster department. The quatchi’s are still safely in their pens. The building though?" he said gesturing upwards, "I don’t know if we should be here or not. Vernon and I, despite the loss of power, amazingly, continue to work on the recall app."

Relieved, Lauren leaned back on the desk, "Good. Okay. So everythings okay.

Jeremy smiled and nodded.

"Then continue to do what you’re doing. I’m going to check in with Tom, the Captain."

"We’ll be here, working while the building crumbles around us. Oh and we’ll need Glen’s app that interfaces with the antanee. We need him here.”

Lauren nodded and walked out. After a second Jeremy leaned over to Vernon and in a low voice he says, "By ’check in’ she means." Jeremy made squeaking, farting noises and put his right index finger through the ’O’ of his right thumb and index finger.

"Do you think the building really will collapse?" asked Vernon frowning.

Jeremy waived his hand, "Naw, I just said that."

In a daze Claire biked through the town. Everyone was on on their front lawns talking to neighbors and looking around half-dazed. At the high school there was already acitivty. She walked in and looked around the hallway, illuminated only by the front windows.

“Could you use a hand?” she asked the short curly haired woman carrying in supplies from a van. She said they did. The emergency lights emitted a soft glow as Claire and others set up a emergency shelter. Lanterns and emergency lights cut through the shadows as they unloaded suplies and set up cots in the gym.

***

A few hours later, Jeremy and Vernon are in the operations center, still working on the code. A faint backgroun hum cuts out. The emergency lights dim to nothing. The computer monitors blink out.

"Fuckminsterfuller! The generators. I need a laptop. Call the idiots down in maintenance."

Vernon lifted a phone.

"It’s dead. And everyone in maintenance was considered ’non-essential’"

"No one refueled the generators. No power, no electronic locks," Jeremy said deliberatly, thinking about the words he was saying, "Everyone’s looking for that shitfucker or gone home."

"But they’re still locked in."

"Remember how we just had one thwart all our security and we still don’t know how."

"Yes?"

"Come on! Let’s get down there."

Jeremy jumped up and ran out. Vernon following close behind. Jeremy stopped at the elevator reached out to press the button then pulled away.

"Right no power,"

"Elevators run on electricity,"

"Thank you. Vernon. We got to get down there before they figure out the locks."

In the pens, Daryl Hosk shone the flaslight down the long hallway. Most of the light relfected off the glass. He had to move the beam so that he could see clearly. Nothing moved along the long hallway, a vault-like metal door every five feet on each side. No movemet, only silence. Daryl pressed the large red button labeled "Panic," he pressed it again as he had just a few seconds before and as he had a few seconds before that.. Nothing happened. He paced around the room. He went to a shelf and pulled out a thick binder and paged through it until he found Emergenices. All the options involed calling someone or pressing the button. He pulled out his phone, nothing. He pressed the button again. He bolted for the external door. It was locked, he fumbled on his key chain and put the key in the lock. He heard a soft metal on meal scraping and then a click. A door swung open behind him with a drawn out creak.

Jeremy and Veron were in the stair well. Muffled howls and roars, then then thumping, like a stampede. "That was fast, very fast. God I’m so proud of them and I hope they don’t cut me into small pieces. Let’s get out!"

Jeremy and Vernon reversed direction and ran up the stairs and through the cracked hallways of Gentronix, past the toppled cubicles, past the stylish modern waiting room area. Crashing and howling follow them. They run out of the front entrance towards Vernon’s car, a Ford Fiesta one of only three in the parking lot. They ran up to the Ford Fiesta. Jeremy pounded on the window, looking over his shoulder. Vernon unlocked the door, got in and pulls out the sunglasses sunshade from out of the front.

"Really?! In this climate? Just unlock the door!”

Vernon started the car, looked over his shoulder, and backed out of the spot. Jeremy stared at the building for any movement, muttering to himself. Vernon accelerated, reasonably, onto the highway. They drove at a safe clip to the Army camp. Jeremy saw the speedometer. After shaking his head and gesturing at it, Vernon increased his speed from thirty to thirty-five.

Jeremy checked his phone, "Network is back," He dialed.

"Glen! They’re fucking out. They’re loose. I don’t know. We need your app. Yes the rest of it is done, just need your piece. I know power’s still out. Yes, the backup generators went out. You do have the interface on your laptop right? I don’t have a laptop. I leave work at work. Yes, I realize the cosmic irony that my work may now eat me. We’re heading to the army camp. Get that laptop there alright?"

***

At the camp, Vernon parked the car. Getting out Jeremy caught his leg on the lip and fell into the dirt. Vernon reached into the back seat and put the sunglasses insulator back on the dashboard. Jeremy doesn’t know whether to walk or run. Agitated, sweating profusely, he ran/walked up to the command tent. The soldiers are packing up.

Jeremy stepped into the tent and looked around nervously. Harold typed on a laptop. Tom spoke rapidly on the phone. Lauren was sitting in front of Tom’s desk. He waved at Jeremy to sit down.

Jeremy looked at Lauren and Tom, wide eyed and breathing hard.

“They’re out. They’re gone!”

“What?" Tom mouthed, "Sorry, hold on general, something’s up,” he put the general on hold, “What Jeremy?”

Jeremy’s hands shook as he ran his hands through his long stringy blonde hair, “They’re gone. They got out. They are outside the walls.”

Tom looked at Lauren, then back to Jeremy. He stood up and hung up on the general.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Jeremy spread his hands, his voice shaking, “The earthquake killed the power. And no one was around to refill the backup generator. It turned off about ten minutes ago.”

Lauren’s head dropped.

“You had to have a plan for a power outage.”

“There’s always someone on staff twenty-four-seven and in a power outage they’re supposed to monitor and refuel the generator if that happens. But everyone was sent home, for their safety," he looked at Lauren.

“And so when the power’s off the doors just pop open?"

“No! No. But when the power’s off its just a regular mechanical lock. Probably they’ve known how to pick it for a long time. We’ve designed these things to be very good at solving problems. They’ve just been waiting for their chance."

“I’m so fucking sick of these things. We need to find them and fucking kill them.”

“To do that we need Glen here. We’ll have to restart the generator, but I think we can do it. We basically finished the software before the power went out.”

“Basically?”

“Yeah, basically. We’ll make it work. We just finished fixing most of the most egregious bugs.”

Tom and Harold exchange glances. Tom nodded and Harold walked out.

“Also, where did everybody go?” asked Jeremy.

“The rest of the platoon was ordered to Seattle. Things are really bad there. We’re it for now.”

“I need to find Claire,” said Lauren stoically.

“That’s probably a good idea," said Tom.

Next Chapter: Slashquatch: part III