tile. She must be close to the keys.
Something clamped viciously onto her ankle. Even through her jeans the hand felt cold, alien. She was yanked backwards, hard. Her chin smacked the tile. She screamed, lurching forward, hands flailing for purchase, for keys, for anything. Her right hand found metal. She gripped down on the keys, their teeth biting her hand. Her left hand found something else metal, larger. She held on to it as she was jerked back. Carpet burned her face, elbows, and stomach where her shirt had come up.
The alien monster would devour her.
35
From somewhere in the sublevel, soldiers started shouting out orders.
Dane backed away from the window. “It’s the Men in Black!”
“Sis,” Paul whispered.
They all stared at the break room’s ceiling panels.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Alex said. She stroked Paul’s curly hair.
Dane realized he was biting into his tongue filling his mouth with a metallic taste. His teeth released his own flesh.
“Paulie, look at me,” Alex said.
Paulie? Since when did she call Paul Paulie?
Paul looked at Alex. Silent tears fell.
“The only way to save your sis is to activate the phone.”
Her voice had never sounded so soothing. Dane studied the phone.
Paul wiped his eyes and without missing a beat said, “FBI.”
The two of them turned to Dane. Alex’s arm was around Paul’s waist.
“Well, try it,” Alex said.
The firmness in her voice brought Dane to his senses. “Fine.” He typed FBI on the phone’s keypad.
Alex and Paul walked around to look. They stayed hip to hip.
He hit enter. The six dropped to a five.
“Crudola,” Paul said. “Sorry.”
“CIA?” Alex asked.
Paul shrugged.
Dane typed it in and hit enter. “Five to four.”
More distant yelling followed by repetitive pops.
“Firecrackers?” Alex asked.
“I think they’re using gun silencers,” Dane said.
“So,” Alex said, “no one on the streets above will come to our rescue?”
“As far down as we are,” Paul said, eyeing the ceiling, “I don’t think someone standing right in front of the house would hear anything from down here.”
“It’s Memorial Day weekend,” Dane said. “Even if they did hear popping or even an explosion, they’d think firecrackers.”
A barrage of commotion erupted on the lower level. Apparently, Sarge had given the order to retaliate. The sound of running boots followed desperate shouted commands. They watched in silence as three soldiers sprinted the length of the wired window and out of view. Their footfalls faded.
“No need to whisper anymore,” Dane said.
“Yeah,” Alex said, “I don’t think we’re the main priority any longer.”
“Hopefully, they’ll help my sis,” Paul said, tugging on his medallion.
“And our friends,” Dane said.
Alex gestured to the phone, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Some super spy phone this is. It’s not created by the CIA or the FBI.”
“Alex, you’re a genius,” Dane said. “We’re going at this all wrong—”
An explosion so close, the window’s glass rattled. A soldier’s shouts were near enough to understand, “The Modifier has breached the lower level!”
Erratic puffs of gunfire echoed throughout the hallway. Soldiers cried out, silenced by bone-crushing thuds.
“It’s coming for us,” Alex said.
“What were you saying?” Paul asked.
Dane did his best to ignore the soldier hurled the length of the hallway. He inhaled all the courage he could summon. Was he leading his friends down the correct train of thought? Only one way to know for sure.
“We’ve been thinking of a real life spy,” Dane said. “This phone’s voice sounds like Sean Connery, who played a character.”
Before Alex or Paul could reply or object, Dane typed 007 and hit enter. His insides dropped with the number on the phone’s screen. “Sorry. I thought for sure that was it. We’ve only got three more tries.”
“Why didn’t Agent Baker just tell Simone the stupid password?” Alex asked.
“Because Sarge was there,” Paul said. “And obviously, if the phone will work with the password for us, it would for him.”
“He could’ve tortured Simone for the answer then,” Alex said.
“Not if she hadn’t figured it out,” Paul said. “Not if it was a clue.”
“And she was delirious at the time,” Dane said. “It was probably the best she could do.”
Alex threw up her arms and stormed away toward the refrigerator.
Another soldier flew by. He disappeared, his screams reverberating off walls.
“It’s definitely Bond, right?” Paul asked.
Dane nodded. “Sean Connery’s performance as Bond is iconic. He changed the way Flemming wrote the character. And the phone sounds just like Connery.”
Alex paced back and said, “Well, Bond was British, right?”
Dane and Paul both nodded.
Alex spoke over more gunfire, “Then he wouldn’t have worked for the FBI or CIA.”
“MI6,” Dane blurted out.
“Since the password is only three characters,” Paul said, “having a number would make it stronger.”
From somewhere down the hall, more soldiers screamed. Three more ran passed the break room, most likely to help their howling comrades.
Alex ran to the window. “Let us out!”
The soldiers didn’t look back.
The high electrical whine of laser blasts.
“It’s getting closer,” Dane said.
“Hurry,” Paul said.
Dane typed in MI6.
Alex paced back and stood next to Paul.
Heart pounding, Dane hit enter. He couldn’t believe it. All he could do was shake his head. “Two more guesses.”
A laser blast blew a hole in the far hallway wall. The floor shook beneath Dane’s sneakers.
“There’s SIS, right?” Dane asked.
Paul and Alex gave him questioning looks.
“It’s another name for MI6,” Dane said. “It stands for Secret Intelligence Service.”
“Army-war stuff isn’t my specialty,” Paul said, “but I’d think it was MI6 if either of the two.”
Dane looked up at the ceiling tiles, his mind churning the clue. “With three his creator activates him.”
Two soldiers retreated into view.
Alex ran to the window and pounded on the glass. “Open the door!”
The soldiers ignored her. They fired at the unseen intruder: the Modifier that had come to kill them.
“Bond,” Dane said. “Written by Flemming played by Connery, Moore, Dalton, and Brosnan.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Nothing. No three letter names.”
A short beam of red hit near the door. The far pane in the double-sided window cracked. Alex and Paul stepped back.
“I’ve got it!” Alex shouted. “Creator!”
“I’ve already thought of the author,” Dane said. “But Flemming is too long.”
“No,” Alex said. “Remember that documentary Simone made us watch on the making of the Bond films!”
“You’re right!” Paul said.
“It was called EON,” Alex said, “because of the production company.”
“Everything or nothing,” Dane finished. He typed in EON and hit enter. “Nope. Sorry.”
“Are you sure you put it in correctly?” Alex asked, reaching for the phone.
Dane pulled it back. “It’s three letters. How could I mess that up?”
A laser blast exploded and one of the soldiers was thrown back into the glass. He rebounded to the floor. He didn’t get up.
Cracks spread out in both panes. It provided an eerie dual shattered web.
/> “There are two!” Dane said. “A first and a last.”
He knew the phone’s password. It had been so simple. The creator. In three.
Another blast blew the final soldier into the glass web. The front pane shattered, glass fell into the hallway pinging onto the floor. The soldier’s limp body hung momentarily in the wire, fell forward, and then out of view.
Dane typed in the final chance at the three-letter password. If he was wrong, would the phone explode in his hand? Surely not, right? That was a Tom Cruise movie series, after all. He eyed the numeral one in the right corner of the phone’s screen. Without conferring with his friends, he hit enter, and shut his eyes, preparing for his hand to be blown off.
36
Collin grabbed the other throw pillow, going with the first idea that came to mind, even though he knew it was futile…childish.
Pinned between the wall and couch, Collin watched the creature drag Penny and lift her up by the ankle. Her head bent back. The Brim thing’s inhuman strength twisted Penny onto her back. Something in Penny’s hand reflected the outside light. The gun, the end of its barrel glowed red.
The laser missed Brim wide right, disintegrating the ceiling fan. Its particles dusted the carpet.
Brim kicked the gun out of Penny’s hand.
She screamed out in pain.
Again the gun slid across the kitchen floor, this time dropping down the hole Mirk had created.
Collin swung himself off the couch. With Brim’s back to him, he used the flaming pillow to catch a second one on fire. With one in each hand, embers burning his forearms, Collin leapt. He wrapped his legs around the thing’s waist, slamming the fiery pillows on either side of its face. The creature’s hat fell to the floor.
CG
Simone’s vision returned in time to have her ears violated. The vampire creature screamed a high-pitched, animal sound. It threw Collin into the wall, his head narrowly missing the fireplace mantle. His limp body slid to the floor between the fireplace and the splintered doorframe.
Rage devoured any fear. Simone grabbed the fireplace poker and stood on wobbly legs.
The Brim thing turned with red-slit demon eyes and hissing fangs. The sides of its face smoked. The smell was hideous, like rancid meat re-cooked in a microwave.
Simone swung with all her might.
The creature grabbed the tool easily.
The curl of its red lips made her straining arms shiver.
It yanked the poker from her, tossing it carelessly into the kitchen.
Icy death wrapped around her throat. Simone never saw its hand move, it simply appeared on her. It lifted her, squeezing air from her. Her feet kicked. Unable to reach the monster, she tore at its hand to no avail. Her glasses askew, she gasped for life. Darkness crept in: her vision became a vignette, leaving only the monster’s white, Halloween mask. She was almost grateful for the loss of sight.
CG
Penny rubbed her hand where the creature had kicked it. She was pretty sure it wasn’t broken, but she really didn’t care. The thing had Simone. It was choking her to death. Penny stood and saw a black swirling blur. Its’ other hand clinched her neck. Her feet lost touch with the ground. The cadaver-cold hand squeezed her windpipe. The last thing Penny saw were the unconscious faces of Collin and Simone.
In the darkness, a fowl hiss closed in. It would kill all three of them. She had failed.
CG
Blackness.
Dane opened his eyes. The phone hadn’t exploded and a blue line replaced the keypad screen.
“Hello, Dane Elijah Williams.” The line became a waveform in sync with Sean Connery’s voice. “How may I be of service?”
“How did you know my full name?” Dane asked.
“I have access to your file,” the phone replied.
“I have a file?” Dane asked.
“Yes, quite an extensive one.”
“You hear that?” Dane said. “Extensive.”
Alex dropped the chair she meant to use on the shattered glass. “How did you turn it on?”
“Yeah,” Paul said. “What’s the password?”
“The creator of James Bond 007 was the author Flemming. Ian Flemming.”
“Ian,” Paul said. “Of course, so simple.”
“Did you know Flemming chose Bond’s name,” Dane said, “from some guy because he thought it was the most boring name he’d ever heard? Bond was supposed to be this lame guy.”
“It was James Bond, the American ornithologist,” the phone said.
“An orni-what?” Dane asked.
“Bird expert,” Alex said. “I hate to break up the lovely conversation, but I think we need to get out of here, like now.”
There was a heavy silence. No more gunfire, no more soldiers battling the Modifiers.
Dane eyed the ceiling tiles. Something was deathly wrong above them.
“There is a Modifier less than thirty feet away,” the phone said. “And there is a camera in the soda vending machine.”
“We know that,” Alex said. “We need a way out.”
Sounding somewhat offended the phone replied, “Well, there’s a—”
“The ceiling panels,” Dane said. “That’s the way out. Follow me.” He ran toward the soda machine.
“That’s what I was saying,” the phone said. “There is a crawl space between the house’s foundation and the underground laboratory.”
“This is a lab?” Dane asked, climbing onto the counter next to the vending machine. Hopefully he was staying out of the camera’s view. But he doubted anyone was watching them anymore.
“The subterranean level has an intricate computer system,” the phone said, “and a powerful energy force.”
“That’s what the green light must’ve been.” Dane climbed on top of the vending machine. “Can you show us where it’s coming from?”
“Of course.”
“What green light?” Paul asked, climbing onto the counter.
The ceiling panel inches from his face, Dane set the phone down.
“There was a green light—” Alex stared down. She jumped off the counter and ran across the room.
Dane lifted and slid the ceiling square off its metal frame.
“The creature is less than twenty yards from view,” the phone said atop the vending machine.
“I think the ceiling will hold our weight,” Dane said.
“What if you’re wrong,” Paul asked.
“Don’t really have a choice.” Dane lifted himself up. “Don’t forget the phone.”
The crawlspace was what he’d expected: a claustrophobic, muggy darkness. Pipes ran above his head.
“Twelve yards from sightline,” the phone said.
Dane peered down. “You guys coming or what?” He didn’t like being in the crawlspace alone.
“Get up there,” Alex mouthed to Paul. She had the cattle prod weapon in her hand.
Paul crawled on top of the vending machine.
“The creature is eight yards from sight.”
With Paul barely out of the way, Alex hopped on the soda machine. She waved off Dane’s outstretched hands, tucked the weapon in the back of her shorts, and grabbed a pipe. She swung up into the crawlspace.
Paul was sliding the ceiling panel back into place when the phone said, “Five yards from sight.”
“No one grabbed it,” Dane said.
As if to verify its position the phone said, “Three yards now.”
Dane reached down and snatched the phone. At the window’s edge, he saw the Modifier’s long black jacket. He slid the panel into place.
There was a laser blast and loud crash, which must’ve been the door slamming to the floor.
In the stifling darkness, the phone’s monitor was the only light, which had changed to an infrared-heat signature screen. Its camera showed the break room through the ceiling, similar to the ghost hunter shows attempting to prove the existence of an afterlife.
The
tall vampire entered the room. Its heat signature not the usual red, like humans, but more of a faded yellow-green, almost blending in with the break room tables and chairs.
“What is that thing?” Alex breathed.
“The walking dead,” Dane whispered.
With no hesitation, the creature strode directly to the soda machine, its yellow-green head looking directly up at them.
Dane stopped breathing.
The yellow-green figure floated up to them, growing larger.
Alex clutched his arm. She was trembling.
The creature had seen him. He’d led it to his friends. But he’d had to retrieve the phone. He’d told Paul not to forget it. They needed to crawl away, but Dane found he was too terrified to move. He could only watch in horror as the creature filled the phone’s screen. Its outstretched hand closed in. They were as good as dead.
CG
Brim tossed the unconscious female fledglings in a heap next to the unconscious male, the one who had singed his face. Brim pulled the blade from his jacket, which appeared to be nothing more than a handle. He activated it. A laser shot out of the handle and looped back down into the base, forming a red electric blade.
Brim stood over the three earthlings. His tongue ceremoniously licked along each of his fangs. If permitted, before a humanoid kill, he liked to fully immerse himself in this dimension’s awkward, cumbersome present.
“Your existence is unneeded,” Brim whispered. The blade would easily slit their useless throats. He would save the boy for last. He leaned toward the putrid heap. He enjoyed how the blade glowed off their helpless faces.
Brim’s whisper was not much more than a hiss, “The time for child’s play is at an end.”
David C. Baxter prefers flip-flops, tennis, an ocean breeze, and being called Dave. Unfortunately, he’s gluten intolerant, but he’s thankful it only took four years to find a gluten free beer that taste like the real thing. My author page.
I’d be tickled (purple) if you left a review.
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