Callsign: King II- Underworld

In the surreal light, King saw a few soldiers still standing, but there were many more of tall, shaggy creatures identical to the one in the video Aleman had sent him. They seemed to be everywhere.

King saw Nina gaping in amazement at the mayhem, and pulled her down into the relative concealment afforded by the mist. With the naked KA-BAR stashed under his belt, he checked the fallen soldier’s carbine.

The bolt was locked back, the magazine empty. He checked the gear pouches attached to the man’s body armor vest, and found two full replacements. One went in the magazine well, the other in a pocket. If the soldier’s fate was any indication, the 5.56-millimeter rounds hadn’t been very effective against the creatures, but it was better than nothing.

“Stay close to me,” he told the wide-eyed Nina. “And keep your head down.”

His thoughts returned to Pierce, but a glance at the collapsed tent showed no hint of bodies—moving or otherwise—underneath the canvas in the area where he had last seen the archaeologist. He resisted the urge to start tearing the heavy fabric apart with his bare hands; it would have been a futile effort, for Pierce was plainly gone. He had either escaped on his own or…

King shook his head, refusing to consider the alternative. George is here, somewhere, and I will find him.

But even as he made that silent promise, he realized that the search for his friend could no longer be his first priority. He had come to Arizona to learn the truth about the strange creatures that had attacked the day before, and now, even though he was right in the middle of a major incursion by the same species, he still knew nothing about them, or what had prompted this attack.

He recalled how Magnuson had repeatedly checked the time in the moments leading up to the assault. The officer had known that something was about to happen and had wanted to get the detainees out of the way before that deadline.

No, I’m missing something. If Magnuson had known an attack was imminent, he would have been better prepared.

A heavy thumping, reverberating through the ground beneath his feet, cut short his musings. Even through the mist, he could see the creature lumbering directly toward him, its red eyes fixed on him like targeting lasers.

King didn’t hesitate. He stood fully erect, facing the charging creature in a slightly hunched over tactical stance, and with the carbine pressed against his shoulder, flipped the fire selector to burst. He pulled the trigger twice in rapid sequence, what range instructors called a controlled pair, though in burst mode, his double-pull let loose six bullets in less than a second. All six rounds hit their intended target; at about thirty meters and closing, it was hard to miss. The tiny bullets, each only a little bit bigger in diameter than a construction nail, perforated the creature’s broad, bare forehead in a tight grouping, right above the bridge of its all-too-human nose. Still the creature thundered forward.

King triggered another burst, lower this time, into where the thing’s heart should have been, then hurled himself to the side, covering Nina with one arm. There was a tremendous thud behind him as the mortally wounded beast crashed to the ground.

It was hard to say whether the first bullet had done the job…or only the last…or if it had taken nine rounds to vital areas to stop the charge. Either way, King knew that fighting the creatures wasn’t a viable option, and as the charge had revealed, trying to hide and wait wasn’t much better.

He pulled Nina to her feet. “Come on. We’re getting out of here.”





15.


When the tent started to collapse, Pierce, in a moment of desperation, had started rolling sideways toward the edge of the enclosure. He’d crawled around in enough tombs and caves to know that when the ceiling started caving in, you wanted to be as close to an exit as you could. When he stopped rolling, he discovered that he had somehow rolled all the way out, and now lay in the open, shrouded in the shimmering silver mist.

He struggled to a sitting position, and immediately regretted his hasty escape. For just a moment, he considered trying to crawl back into the collapsed tent, like a frightened child hiding under a blanket from nightmare monsters in the closet. The problem was, these monsters weren’t figments of his imagination.