The Invasive 2: Remnants Read online

  Bishop watched as one of the crewmen hit the ground head first, the rest of his body compacting into his neck and shoulder area like a Slinky.

  “Run,” Bishop said.

  “Already on it,” Colbrick shouted from twenty yards away. He was also carrying all their gear.

  “Come on,” Angela said as she helped up Dr. Avery. “You’ll burn if you don’t move.”

  Dr. Avery looked around like he’d lost his mind. “What have we done?” he asked.

  “No one cares,” Colbrick said. “Look up, Slow Joe. That flier? That does care. So pipe down and move your feet, or be invasive meat.”

  Apex National Forest, Quadrant 4 (40 BPM)

  The group scurried amongst the ferns, with Yutu in the lead. The flier coasted above the canopy, peering down into the occasional opening with its huge green eyes.

  “Damn thing,” Colbrick whispered.

  “We need to stay in the cover,” Bishop said.

  Angela groaned. “We can’t, Bishop. We have government troops after us.”

  “Um, look up Miss,” Colbrick said.

  “I see it,” Angela said.

  A disturbing feeling washed over Bishop, more than just the adrenaline from being hunted by the flier. They were being hunted not only by security personnel, but also possibly part of an experiment by Dr. Werner. Why had Werner shown them the lab, at all? Why bother? Maybe to get them curious, to get them to strike off into the mountains on their own perhaps to see how any remnant invasive responded? Bishop wondered if that’s what the drone was for, to track and record their progress.

  “We can go back to my camp,” Dr. Avery said. “It’s on higher ground, up near the alpine.”

  Colbrick froze, then pivoted. “Hold up, partners,” he whispered. “Someone’s behind us.”

  A group of camouflaged soldiers appeared fifty yards back in the ferns, emerging like materializing ghosts.

  “Freeze right there,” one of the men shouted. “Or we’ll fire.”

  “Run,” Bishop said.

  Rifleshot cracked across the woods, but the bullet splintered into a nearby pine.

  And that was all the big flier needed.

  Focused in on the source of noise, it folded its wings and closed its beak, stabbing through the canopy. As it did, the day’s last sunray cut through the clouds and illuminated the patch of ferns the soldiers occupied. As they realized the big flier was coming hard and fast, the soldiers aimed and fired, their muzzle flash wild and electric.

  Bishop stood in awe of the scene, the massive flier swooping in and picking off the lead soldier, despite being riddled by bullets. With one bite, the soldier’s head disappeared, and the flier knocked back two more soldiers with its left wing.

  “Let’s go,” Angela said.

  Yutu barked at Bishop, as if to wake him from the trance.

  He turned, and did not look back. It took everything he had. A few moments later the sound of gunfire and the screams of men faded.

  Apex National Forest, The Alpine Lands (45 BPM)

  Dr. Avery’s camp was in a perfect location. The tents were set up near treeline, but still sheltered by several car-sized boulders. A natural walkway led to a viewpoint, where they could view the entire eastern band of the Apex National Forest. In the darkness, the occasional red tag flashed.

  Bishop counted several invasives, without a clue as to the size or danger.

  Dr. Avery handed Bishop a warm cup of coffee, fresh from the sizzling campfire. “Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Dr. Avery said. “It’s a great spot for research purposes.”

  “We’ve seen it before,” Angela said after taking a sip of coffee from her tin mug. “Only thousands of flashing red tags, not a few.”

  “Understood,” Dr. Avery said. “That must’ve been a real minefield. Russian roulette, in a way.”

  Angela took a seat on a rock and watched the valley below. “You’re right about that. I don’t even know how we’re still standing.”

  Yutu curled up next to Angela, and wagged his tail twice.

  “Because of that fine mutt,” Colbrick said, joining the group as they watched the blinking red lights in the valley. Overhead, a shooting star arced across the night sky.

  Colbrick lit a cigar, and exhaled.

  Angela waved her hand across her face. “Oh Jesus,” she said. “When did you start smoking those things?”

  Colbrick chuckled. “Start? A long, long time ago. In a galaxy far away.”

  “Original,” Angela said with a smirk.

  Dr. Avery gestured to the valley far below. “It’s really is something. You think you’ve seen it all, run all the tests, conducted all the studies and formed all the conclusions. But life has a way of sneaking up on you and slapping you in the face with a cold, cold hand.”

  Bishop watched as several lights blinked below.

  Colbrick chomped on his cigar and loaded his sawed-off shotgun. “Well,” he said, “not much choice but to go down there in the a.m. and blast those things.”

  Dr. Avery slipped on his headphones and aimed his telemetry device into the valley. The device failed to beep. “They’re too far away to track,” Dr. Avery said. “And besides, you run a great risk. There are better ways.”

  Bishop raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?” he asked.

  Dr. Avery set his telemetry gear down, and dug through his backpack. He produced a six-inch vial, with two rubber-stop reinforcements to contain whatever was inside.

  Dr. Avery held up the vial in the campfire light. “My employer, Natural Corrections, is extremely well-funded,” he said. “After significant investment in time and resources, they’ve come up with a bacterium that only infects the invasive, not the native wildlife of the Apex Valley.”

  “Holy shit,” Angela said, causing Yutu to stir from his nap momentarily. “What about danger to people?”

  “Not that we know of,” Dr. Avery said as he brushed back his greying hair. “But like all the best science, all side effects were tested for.”

  Angela frowned. “That’s cute. They said that about DDT before we learned it would wipe out bald eagles, too. And common lawn herbicides before we learned they killed amphibians and blinded rabbits.” Angela stared down Dr. Avery. “Our ability to produce these chemicals and bacteria, exceeds our ability to test for the full array of side effects.”

  Dr. Avery looked stunned, and fumbled with the vial.

  “Careful,” Colbrick said. “Or you’ll be breathing your own creation, Doctor.”

  Dr. Avery recovered from his nervousness, and gripped the vial firmly. “I’m not worried,” he said. “The bio-arm of Natural Corrections, and the entire company cares more about life on earth than you might think…even over profits.”

  Bishop seized a hold of Colbrick’s cigar, and took a puff.

  “Well, damn partner,” Colbrick said. “Hope ya like my slobber.”

  Bishop relished the harsh but rich tobacco in his lungs. More than anything, he wanted to feel something besides the impending sense of doom, that scraping metallic anxiety in his brain, and the slow tick-tock-tick of the rising BPM’s on the invasive’s tags.

  “That’s a first,” Angela said, staring at her husband in complete wonder as Bishop took another puff.

  “I’m full of surprises,” Bishop said, exhaling.

  Colbrick frowned. “Alright, now that we’re done playing footsies, let’s have it, Doc. How do we infect the invasive with your bacteria?”

  Dr. Avery stared out at the valley below as several red tags blinked. Overhead, the stars imprinted upon the night sky in yet deeper clarity and precision.

  “We call it ER17,” Dr. Avery said. “Short for Ecosystem Recovery. The number is associated with the specific batch.”

  “I like the sound of that,” Bishop said.

  “We do too,” Dr. Avery said. ‘That’s why I can guarantee that it’s 100% safe. For us.”

  Angela raised an eyebrow. “That bird, Bishop,” she said. “And the little marsupial t
hings. They’ve done nothing wrong. There has to be a way to maybe…keep the good, and cull the bad.”

  Dr. Avery shook his head. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way. Invasive species have a corrosive effect on the ecosystem as a whole. The bird you describe is what we like to call an ostrich-variant. They eat snakes, and whatever else they can get their beaks on. And their stomachs appear to be made of a highly pliable substance impervious to sharp objects. The birds are capable of eating metal—which means they’ll eat car parts, parking meters, you name it.”

  Yutu whimpered, and looked up at Angela. “Bishop,” she said. “That bird saved our butts.”

  Bishop wasn’t thrilled, either. They were literally about to unleash death upon the very thing that saved them, that goofy bird. It had been a long time since Bishop was this conflicted. Wasn’t the goal of this, and the previous struggle, to eliminate the invasives and return the Apex Valley to its original state?

  Bishop stared down into the valley. Several red tags blinked far away amongst the dark spires of pine. He wondered if the goal was as realistic as they thought. Maybe the valley would never be the same. Maybe the invasives might mix with the native ecosystem, and compliment rather than hurt it. He thought about Dr. Werner, and his immoral experiments. The case of Dr. Werner wasn’t so conflicting. Goosebumps rippled up his arms as he realized the goal now was to stop Dr. Werner’s experiments. And if killing the current crop of invasives was how they had to do that, then Bishop would. Dr. Werner was not only putting the valley at risk, but the entire human race.

  “We have to do it,” Bishop told Angela. “Stopping Dr. Werner’s experiments is the priority.”

  Colbrick nodded. “Ayup, slick. That’s the one and only way.”

  “So,” Angela said, leaning over to pat Yutu. “How do we go about this?”

  “Quadrant 6 containment facility,” Dr. Avery said. “The key is to get the bacteria into the highest density of invasive population. That’s where Dr. Werner and his staff have kept most of the captured invasives, including Vastus.”

  Colbrick spit. “How in the hell are we gonna give that bacteria to Vastus?” he asked. “And I ain’t volunteering. Maybe.”

  “We don’t have to,” Dr. Avery said. “All we have to do is give it to the pigras, or the leaf variants. Maybe set a few invasives free from their cages so they can act as vectors for the rest of their ecosystem.”

  “Sounds awful,” Angela said.

  Dr. Avery nodded. “It is entirely awful. And I don’t take joy in any of it. But when I’m paid to do a job, I always see the job through.”

  Bishop’s jaw dropped. “Oh damn,” he said. “Good, Bad, and the Ugly reference. The scene where The Bad smothers the guy who paid him to kill another guy. That’s brilliant, Doctor.”

  Angela rolled her eyes. “What is it with men and that movie?”

  Colbrick puffed his cigar and chuckled. “What a mess we’ve gotten ourselves into,” he said as he patted Bishop hard on the back. “But hey, slicks, isn’t this what we do best? Prying our way out of What-The Hell-Is-Going-On?”

  Bishop put his arm around Angela, and stared at the stars. He wondered which far off, shimmering pinpoint of light was the master species’ that had caused this mess to begin with.

  “Do you think the military is waiting for us at Big J?” Angela asked

  “Yes,” Bishop said.

  “Comforting.”

  Colbrick walked over and gestured to the valley. “We have friends in town,” he said. “This is not Marshall Law in the Apex Valley. There might be some SNAFUs, but we’ll get through it. The men we pulled guns on, they are not the law. Remember that, folks. We’re protecting ourselves, and our second amendment rights.”

  “All fair points,” Dr. Avery said.

  Bishop didn’t hesitate concerning their next course of action. They’d hike down from the wilderness to Big J, and make sure everything was okay.

  Dr. Avery handed out warm cans of Chunky Soup to Bishop, Angela, and Colbrick. “It’s the last I have,” he said. “I was planning on making a run into town tomorrow.”

  Then he handed out graham crackers. Colbrick took the box, and stuffed four of them into his mouth at once.

  “These are generic,” Colbrick said. “No good. Need Honey Maid.”

  Angela elbowed Colbrick.

  Bishop relished the soup, not realizing just how hungry he’d been. When he finished, he thought of his father and their camping trips into the Apex Wilderness when he was a child. Memories of canned goods with half-torn lids bubbling over a campfire and smelling delicious after a day of fishing. He wondered what his father would do now. Last year, during the invasion, everything was so defined to him. He didn’t have to think so much as to act with precision. But now? Things were muddled-perhaps mirroring what was happening to the Apex Valley.

  The group set up their tents and inflated their sleeping pads, the soft nylon fabric rustling, the tent stakes clanking together like wind chimes. A light breeze sung between fissures in the mountains.

  Within seconds, Colbrick was in his tent and snoring.

  “Jesus,” Angela said. “He is so loud.”

  Bishop and Angela crawled into their tent, with Yutu nestling up at their feet.

  “Goodnight,” Dr. Avery said from the other side of the tent fabric.

  “Goodnight,” Angela said. “And thank you for everything today.”

  “Ha,” Dr. Avery said. “I’m not sure what you have to thank me for, but I’ll gladly accept.”

  Bishop unzipped the nylon tent panel, and gazed at the stars through the fine mesh netting.

  “It’s so beautiful,” Angela said. “All of it. A beautiful mess.”

  “Maybe it’s supposed to be this way,” Bishop said. “Maybe planetary ecosystems are meant to clash, and then combine to create something superior. Maybe this was supposed to happen.”

  Angela gazed up at the stars. “I don’t think the universe cares,” she said. “I think it just is.”

  Apex National Forest, The Alpine Lands (65 BPM)

  Bishop dreamed of wild, rushing rivers with a strange yellow tint. He dreamed of weird, twisted pines that were not the green pines he was used to. These needles were black, and reached out like five-pointed stars. In his dreams, wild animals lurked, animals he had never seen. He realized he was on another planet’s version of the Apex Mountains. And soon became aware that there were many, many, uncountable versions of the Apex Mountains across the galaxy.

  This realization did not weird him out.

  Instead, it made him peaceful, and at ease. He felt he’d have other lifetimes on other planets, and that his energy would be shared, recycled, and shared again. Sooner or later, in eons, he’d once more stand in a version of the Apex Mountains, or maybe not even stand. Maybe he’d be pulling himself along like a slug, or on all fours like an alien wildcat.

  But he would be again.

  In his dreams, he sat in a cave next to the yellow-tinted river. He was eating a boney fish, and staring at the stars. Perhaps one of the stars was Earth. Then he noticed something on the cave wall, a flashing red. The red beat in rhythm. He counted 65 beats per minute.

  No, he said in the dream. Not here, too. They couldn’t find me here. They can’t.

  Yet the red flashing persisted, beating brighter.

  Bishop woke in his tent. Yutu stood at his feet, and let out a low, vicious growl.

  And then again.

  The southern tent wall was not quite right. The color was off. A flashing light illuminated the other side, growing more intense.

  Yutu growled again.

  Angela stirred from her mummy sleeping bag. “Oh no, Bishop,” she said. “I see it.”

  Bishop unzipped the tent door, carrying his .357 in one hand, bear spray in the other.

  When he emerged, he ascertained the source of the flashing red tag. A rotten leaf had crawled past the tent and climbed the lodgepole pine where Dr. Avery had hung his camp food from a bra
nch.

  The leaf clawed its way up the trunk, and then crossed onto the branch that held the food. Next, it began chewing into the rope.

  Angela sighed. “Great,” she said.

  As they watched the leaf, Colbrick snored from inside his tent. To Bishop, it sounded like a freaking bear hibernating.

  “Do we wake Colbrick?” Angela asked.

  “Why?” Bishop whispered.

  “He and the leaves have a special thing,” she said.

  Yutu growled and cocked his head. The pooch tried to give chase, but Angela caught his collar with her hand.

  Before Bishop could decide what to do next, they heard the sound of a tent zipper, and a man spitting.

  “Shit,” Angela whispered. “He’s up.”

  Colbrick unzipped his pants, took a long piss, looked over his shoulder, and belched. “Whatcha all doing out here?” he asked. “Some kind a weird city slicker voodoo thing I ain’t in on?”

  Angela pointed at the lodgepole pine. “There’s a leaf in the tree.”

  “Well, no shit,” Colbrick said. “Ain’t heard of that before.”

  “A rotten leaf, you nitwit,” Angela said.

  Colbrick wiped his eyes, and frowned when he glimpsed the rotten leaf.

  “Damn things chewin’ the rope up,” Colbrick said. He grabbed his sawed-off from the tent, stomped towards the tree, and aimed the shotgun. The rotten leaf chittered, and arched its back as colors pulsed on its viscous, meaty backside.

  “It’s going to send a warning,” Angela said. “You can’t just shoot it. Plus, the military will find us in a second if we start firing canons.”

  Colbrick lowered his shotgun. “Damn,” he said. “Are we sure though there’s enough of them things left for this little son of a bitch to send a warning to?”

  Bishop shook his head. “All it has to do is contact another possible Vastus, or a flier. And we’re screwed.”

  Colbrick spit, and watched as the rotten leaf chittered and sawed the rope. The food sack swung gently.

  “We can’t just let the damn thing go,” Colbrick said. He stomped towards the rotten leaf once more, and aimed. The leaf stopped chewing the rope, and began to pulse with angry colors.