Project Hyperion (A Kaiju Thriller) (Kaiju #4)

“What is it?” she asks.

The smell registers. “Smoke.” I take hold of the blanket roof and yank it down. A dark gray cloud begins to settle into the pit. “C’mon,” I say and charge out of the small gorge, drawing my weapon just in case we’re being smoked out. I scan the area and find nothing. The forest is covered in a waist-high layer of floating soot.

Collins joins me, eyes wide. “Where’s it coming from? Is it a forest fire?”

I take a sniff and cough. There are a lot of chemicals in the air. Probably toxic. A mix of burning plastic, rubber, wood and various other modern building materials. Not a forest fire. “They must be cutting their losses. Burning evidence.”

“Damnit!” Collins bites her lips, looking pissed. The bad guys are getting away on her watch.

And on my watch. Remembering that this could have been my ticket out of paranormal investigations, I charge back into the pit, whip out my pocket knife and cut two long swaths of the still-wet wool blanket. I toss one to Collins while wrapping the other around my nose and mouth, tying it tight. The damp wool should help filter the air, but running the two miles is still going to be rough.

When Collins cinches her wool face mask tight, I say, “Let’s go,” and start jogging in the general direction of the fake Nike site.

Twenty minutes later, I’m out of breath and wheezing like a ninety-year-old asthmatic. I stop and lean against a tree, rubbing my burning eyes. The smoke now reaches high into the trees. We’re getting close, but if the wind doesn’t push this shit away soon, Collins and I could be in real trouble.

She stops next to me. “We should keep moving.”

Woman puts me to shame.

I nod wearily and prepare to continue my charge through the woods when a loud crack fills the air. I stop mid-step and throw myself against the tree, pulling Collins with me.

We stand in silence. Listening.

Leaves shuffle to our left. But the sound is distant. Maybe fifty feet.

We both turn toward the sound and watch. Smoke billows past in silent wisps of gray.

Crack! The sound makes us jump, not because it’s closer, but because it’s so damn loud. The tell tale “shh” of a falling tree follows. Then a dull thud. The tree couldn’t have been too large, but smoke billows away from the impact, clearing the air briefly. That’s when I see it.

It’s just a shape. Dark and large. Far too big to be a human being. It passes through the haze, oblivious to our presence.

“Do you see it?” I whisper into Collins’s ear.

She nods, and leans her head back to whisper in my ear. “The bear?”

I turn to her and find our faces just inches apart. If it weren’t for the double thick wool blankets covering our faces, kissing her would be as easy as puckering my lips. With a jolt, I forget all about the bear and realize that I’ve got my arms around her waist. The back of her body is pressed against the front of mine.

“Bear?” I say dumbly.

“This is why I don’t think women should serve on the front lines,” she says.

My brain slowly registers the joke, but I forget all about it when the creature plows through some brush. The sound is distant. The bear is moving away. It’s a good thing, too. Having a run-in with momma bear would likely give our position away. Not that I expect to find anyone left when we reach the Nike site. Setting fire to the evil lair is usually the last step of a bad guy evacuation.

I casually slip my hands away from Collins’s waist and she steps away. I can see a joke forming in her eyes, and I decide my ego is assaulting itself just fine already. I step past her. “Let’s pick up the pace. We need to get out of this smoke.”

Five minutes later, the wind finally shifts and the heavy smoke is lifted up and away. My body still feels coated in the stuff, and I’m sure I’ll be smelling it for a week, but at least we can breathe freely. I unwrap the wool from my face and throw it to the ground. As I scratch my stubbly cheeks, I take a deep breath through my nose. The scent of smoke is still there, but mixed with the scent of pine and earth and... “Damnit.”

It’s just a whisper, but combined with my suddenly raised pistol and sweeping aim, my fear is obvious. Collins raises her weapon too and follows my lead, searching for danger.

After a minute and no immediate danger detected, I motion to her and then point to my nose. I watch her take a deep breath through her nose. Once. Twice. And then she’s got the scent.

She mouths the word, “Blood?”

I nod and then point in the direction we were already headed. Moving more slowly, and with our weapons raised, we proceed forward like a couple of TV cops patrolling an apartment building.

The trees thin ahead as the terrain becomes more rocky.

Then I see it. The trail. The disguised path winds its way through the rocks. I scan the trail from left to right, looking for any signs of passage.