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

I point past her. “You think?”


The giant monster has taken what appears to be a sprinter’s stance. Her muscles coil. I thought she was moving fast already, but I’m starting to get the feeling Nemesis was just pacing herself.

“Higher,” I say. “Higher!”

We’re shaken by twin roars as F-22s heading toward Nemesis open fire with their cannons, once again aiming for the monster’s knees. The distraction breaks the giant’s focus on us, turning it back on the attacking planes.

One of the F-22 pilots makes a bold decision, firing an AMRAAM missile from close range—so close that it can’t hit anywhere above the waist. The missile strike homes in on Nemesis’s thigh, blowing off chunks of flesh and gore. The plane rolls beneath the debris and hooks away for another run. The three remaining choppers return as well, keeping a healthier distance and firing their collective mini-guns.

When more chunks fly away, I say, “Something isn’t right. Those guns are pebbles compared to the Tomahawk missiles, but they seem to be doing more damage. That missile looked like it did serious damage, where the twelve that hit her before did nothing.”

“Maybe it’s the continuous fire?” Collins says. “Or a chink in its armor. Maybe the knees are a weak spot.”

I don’t think so, but I don’t mention it. For now, we can put Nemesis in the rear view and focus on reaching Gordon. I see the monster shrug off the gunfire and continue her charge toward the city. We’re only going to have a few minutes to deal with Gordon before Nemesis makes landfall.

“Turn us around,” I say. “Get me to that building.”

The next few minutes are smooth flying. I can hear the thunder of battle behind us coupled with Nemesis’s angry roar, but we’re on course, and for now, we’re safe. We pass over Nahant Bay and Broad Sound, finally reaching land, turning over Logan Airport—where flights have been grounded or diverted—so that we’re headed downtown. I’m pretty sure it’s the same path Nemesis will take, so I’m not exactly pleased to see all the traffic below.

“What’s that?” Collins says, pointing out the front window.

I look at the sky above downtown and see what looks like a cloud of locusts—very large, heavily armed locusts. The array of gray military jets and helicopters flying directly toward us is astounding—enough to invade a small country. Maybe even a large one. My mind races to identify the jets. Off to the left, closer to the ocean are F/A-18 Hornets and Super Hornets mixed in with some F-35 Lightnings. Those are the Navy fighters, probably from the nearby aircraft carrier. To the right I see several F-22s Raptors, F-16 Fighting Falcons, F-15 Eagles, A-10 Thunderbolts and even a few jet-black F-117 Nighthawks, which is strange because they were retired in 2008.

They scrambled every nearby fighter they could find, I realize.

The helicopters fly lower and are closer. A mix of Apache, Little Bird, Viper and SuperCobra attack helicopters. The combined might of this air force could level a mountain. For a moment, I feel a surge of hope. That much firepower might be able to blow Nemesis’s legs right out from under her.

Then, a Thunderbolt fires a missile.

Someone didn’t get the memo.

“Woodstock! Military channel n—”

Twenty more missiles follow it. And they’re headed right for us.

I sit back and buckle my seatbelt, which it turns out was a wise idea because we’re suddenly pitching to the side and rolling. For a split second my view of the city flips, and I feel a distinct sense of plummeting to the ground, but then we’re righted again and the jets are roaring past us. Finally, somehow in one piece, we reach the northern edge of Boston.

“Did—did we just fly upside down?” Collins asks. “In a helicopter?”

I’d like the answer to that, too, but I haven’t forgotten those missiles, and I’m pretty sure I know what’s going to happen next. “Get behind the nearest building!”

We drop down as we pass over the Charles River and loop around one of the many squat, solid-looking brick buildings that line the fringe between water and skyscraper. As we turn perpendicular with the water, I see Nemesis in the distance, but closer than expected. Somewhere in the middle of Broad Sound, I see a series of explosions slamming Nemesis’s body. Arms, legs, head, and then, as the monster takes in a breath and lets out an aggravated roar that vibrates all the windows in the city, it happens.