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Subterranea
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SUBTERRANEA
P.K. Hawkins
Copyright 2020 by
www.severedpress.com
Prologue
The facility’s klaxons continued to blare even after the horror was over, and Special Agent Larson was forced to run into the project’s main control room, her gun still drawn, and demand answers.
“I thought you idiots said the thing was shut down!”
“We did!” one of the main scientists said from his control panel, which seemed to be smoking and sparking. “It is! But the readings seem to indicate that it’s going to open again within the hour.”
“Then the general will just have to get more soldiers and be prepared for another breach.”
“But Agent Larson, that’s the problem,” the scientist said. “The readings don’t say anything about the portal opening again here. The monitors seem to indicate a spike of energy outside the facility.”
Larson’s jaw dropped. “That’s not supposed to be possible at this stage.”
“And yet that’s exactly what seems to be happening,” the scientist said. His tone seemed to suggest that somehow he seemed to think this was all her fault. Just let him think that, then. Everyone blamed her for everything that went wrong around here anyway, even when it was very blatantly the fault of that idiot general.
“Where then?” Larson asked. “Please at least tell me it’s going to happen in some corn field somewhere that no one is using at this time of year.”
The scientist gave a series of coordinates as they appeared on the glowing green screen of his computer. Special Agent Larson thought about them for a moment, comparing them to what she knew about this region, then swore loud and long.
“What’s so bad about that?” another scientist asked. “Isn’t that the middle of nowhere?”
“It is, but it just so happens to be one of the few spots in that area with people in it.” She started to run out of the room, then called out to the scientists over her shoulder as she left. “Someone tell the general. There’s a very small town out there that is about to experience a very big heap of trouble.”
Chapter One
With a total population of six hundred and twenty-four people, Kettle Hollow, Wisconsin barely registered on most maps. Its biggest claim to fame was that it was the home town of a player who had briefly been a part of the 1982 Milwaukee Brewers line-up, but an injury had ended his career pretty quickly and now, three years later, none of the townsfolk even knew where he lived anymore. There was parochial school as part of the Catholic church, but otherwise all the schoolchildren had to be bused over to Sheboygan. There was a diner and a gas station near the center of town, and near the edge of town (which, quite frankly, was only a block or so from the center) there was a Piggly Wiggly grocery store and a mom and pop pharmacy. That was it. That was pretty much every major landmark in the town that wasn’t somebody’s house.
It did have a single stoplight although as the darkness of the early autumn night fell over the town, that stoplight’s time left on Earth was to be measured in hours rather than days.
At the outskirts of the town and in the farm fields that surrounded it, whispers could be heard by anyone listening, along with the occasional soft squawk of a walkie-talkie. But the forces gathering out there were still unsure that their greatest fear was about to happen, so they resisted descending on the town just yet, hoping that the early warning they’d been given was a false alarm.
Beyond that perimeter of hiding figures, in a rock quarry off a mostly deserted county road, four much younger people were making a lot more noise, or at least three of them were. Maureen “Murky” Lensky proved to be the quietest of the four, mostly because at eleven she was the youngest and felt like she didn’t belong with the others. She was the only one riding an old 70’s Schwinn while the other three had BMXs of various brands. None of them encouraged her to join in as they practiced dangerous stunts (or at least dangerous in the minds of twelve and thirteen-year-olds). She wouldn’t even be here if her mother had forced her thirteen-year old sister Laura to bring her along. Their mom had said it was because Murky didn’t get out of the house enough, but Murky had understood the silent look her mother had given her just as she was leaving the house. Murky’s real reason for being out here was because their mother didn’t trust Laura alone with Henderson.
Henderson’s real name was George Patrick Staude. No one knew why he called himself Henderson, and anyone who tried to call him by his given name tended to walk away with bruises or black eyes. He was hardly a large person, but people tended to avoid him. Murky wouldn’t exactly consider him a bully, but he made little to no attempt to make friends. He wore faded flannel shirts and torn jeans because his family couldn’t afford much else, and in order to prevent others from making fun of him for this he tried to take on an intimidating air. Murky’s mother thought he was a bad influence, but he was never mean to Murky. If anything, he was rather protective of her because she was Laura’s sister, and wherever Laura went, he followed.
At this exact moment he was trying to precariously balance his BMX on an outcropping of rock. He’d been that way for several minutes now, declaring that as soon as he was ready he would pull off some kind of amazing trick. Laura waited patiently nearby with her own Huffy BMX while the fourth member of their group, Jesse, jeered up at him.
“Hey Henderson, it’s okay to admit you’re a chicken!” he said. Jesse was the only one who could talk to Henderson like that without getting punched in the face. Part of that was probably because he wore thick glasses, and Henderson knew what kind of hell Jesse’s parents would rain down on him if he broke them. Murky thought a bigger part of it though, was that Jesse always let Henderson copy his homework, and in exchange Henderson acted as the wiry, smart-ass kid’s pseudo bodyguard. “Who knows? Maybe even Team Murray is looking for a chicken to join them next time they compete in the Olympics. Gotta have a mascot, right?”
“Team Murray doesn’t compete in the Olympics, you numbnuts,” Henderson said with noticeable anger in his voice. While Murky didn’t have their same obsession with dirt bikes, even she knew better than to insult Henderson’s great dream of someday racing his bike professionally. “Keep it up Jesse, and when I land, I’ll do it right on your head!” Henderson said.
“That would require you to jump your bike down here first; at this rate I’ll already be in bed by the time you do that!”
“Speaking of bed, it’s getting pretty late,” Laura said. “My mom’s going to get angry if we stay out here too much longer. It’s a school night.”
“Like I care,” Henderson muttered, but as was usually the case, when Laura spoke to him reasonably, he listened. Murky was sure her mother thought Laura and Henderson were probably sneaking out to make-out, but she could see that Laura was more like the mother Henderson didn’t have. Murky didn’t yet know the word “platonic,” but if she did that was exactly how she would have described that relationship.
“Wait, we can’t go yet,” Murky said. “I haven’t seen any of the bats come out. There’s supposed to be a whole bunch of them that live around here.” Even as she said it though, she went to grab her backpack from where she had dumped it along with the others. Regardless of whether or not she was ready, she’d learned long ago not to mess with Laura when she was in mother hen mode.
“Bleh!” Jesse said as he grabbed his backpack as well. “Bats are gross. That’s seriously the main reason you wanted to come out here with us?”
Murky shrugged. She was used to others not getting her. Even Laura didn’t seem to understand her, even though Laura would defend her with her life. “I just like bats.”
“You like every animal, Murky,” Laura said. All four of them had their backpacks again, but rather than immediatel
y riding back they walked their bikes out of the quarry. Despite Laura’s admonishment, none of them were exactly in a hurry to get back home.
“Not every animal,” Murky said defensively.
“Name one animal that you don’t like,” Henderson said.
“Uh, those one things.”
Jesse gave an obnoxious snort of a laugh. “Those one things. Is that supposed to be the scientific name?”
“Spiders,” Murky said, naming the first plausible creature that came to mind.”
“Try again,” Laura said. “I caught you playing with that disgusting spider egg sack last week.”
“Fine. Uh. Mr. Turnbull.”
They all had a good hard laugh at that. Mr. Turnbull was the old man who ran the pharmacy. Despite being one of the few places in town where they could get comics and magazines and candy, no one actually liked going in there. Mr. Turnbull was cranky and smelled like hemorrhoid cream.
“Is your mom really going to be mad if you guys are home this late?” Henderson asked Laura.
“Probably.”
Henderson shook his head. “Must be nice.”
“Why is it nice that Mom would get mad at us?” Murky asked.
“I mean, must be nice having parents that care enough to even be mad,” Henderson said. He refused to look at any of them as he spoke.
“Man, your dad just lets you run around and do whatever you want,” Jesse said. “We all wish we had your dad.”
Murky wasn’t sure if Henderson looked like he would rather cry or smack Jesse right across the mouth. Personally, Murky would definitely take the relationship she had with her own parents over what Henderson had. She knew that his mother had been killed in a workplace accident when Henderson was little, and his father had started drinking after that. She didn’t think he did anything to hurt Henderson, but sometimes she wondered if Henderson would have preferred that to being treated like he didn’t even exist.
From somewhere out in a field at the side of the road, Murky heard some kind of electronic squawk. She stopped to listen, but because she was trailing behind the others it took them a moment to realize she was no longer following.
“Come on, Murky. We don’t have a lot of time left.”
“Didn’t you guys hear that?” Murky asked.
“I didn’t hear nothing,” Henderson said.
They all stood quietly for second. At first Murky thought that maybe it had been her imagination, but with everyone quiet now she thought she could also hear the rustle of something large moving through the tall brown grass.
“Probably an animal,” Laura said. “No, you can’t go see what it is. You’ll probably bring it home, and Mom will kill me if I let you bring home any more strays.”
Before Murky could protest, she felt a slight rumble in the road. She’d walked and ridden on these county roads enough to expect it to be some kind of truck coming by, but when she looked up and down the road it was completely empty. Come to think of it, they hadn’t seen any traffic going toward or away from town since they left the quarry. While there certainly wasn’t any reason for outsiders to visit Kettle Hollow, this particular road was sometimes used as a shortcut by people trying to get to more lively places. There should have been something during this time, and yet there hadn’t been.
“Do you guys feel that?” Jesse asked. “It feels like the whole world is vibrating.”
Down the road they could see the lights in the houses at the edge of town suddenly go out, and the vibrating increased until Murky could feel it in her bones.
“Something’s…”
Murky could only assume that Laura was about to say “Something’s wrong,” but the last word was ripped from her mouth by a sudden boom accompanied with a flash of light from the direction of the center of Kettle Hollow.
And that wasn’t even the most alarming thing that happened during the next couple of seconds. While they were all turned to the blinding flash, multiple soldiers erupted out from various hiding places in the fields around them, and the night became full of shouted commands. Most of the soldiers took positions with their weapons pointed to the town, like they thought a sudden attack might come from the sleepy little village. Three of them though, ran right to the kids.
“Don’t move!” a soldier yelled at them. “Hands where we can see them!”
Murky immediately dropped her bike and put her hands up like she’d seen in movies. Laura and Jesse did the same, although Henderson hesitated. He looked like he wanted to punch the soldier for threatening him, or maybe he was just hesitant to drop his prized bike, even if it was a cheap knock-off of the Murray X20C he actually wanted. Thankfully he did as he was told.
While soldiers surrounded them, the flashing from town stopped, although a low rumble continued to be heard. Murky also thought she might have heard screaming, but she hoped that was just her imagination.
One of the soldiers took out a walkie-talkie and spoke into it. “Sir, we’ve got a problem at Checkpoint H. It looks like four of the kids from the town weren’t in it as the portal erupted.”
“Damn it!” a voice on the other end said. “We don’t have time for this. Detain them and take them back to the base camp. We can make that Larson woman babysit them while we do our jobs.”
“Roger that.” The soldier put away the walkie-talkie and then gestured at the kids with his weapon. “Come on. This way.”
“What… what’s happening?” Laura asked. “We have to get back home. Our parents…”
“If your parents were in that town when the portal went off, they’re probably dead,” the soldier said.
All four of the kids stared at him with open mouths.
“Way to show some sympathy, Rodgers,” another soldier said to the first one, then also gestured at the kids. “He’s right though. If you don’t want to be as dead as everyone else in your town, you better follow us.”
With nothing else to do or say, Murky, Laura, Jesse, and Henderson went with the soldiers out into the field.
Chapter Two
Now that any pretense of hiding seemed to be over, the soldiers were openly walking around as the kids were directed to the temporary base that had been set up in the field. Just because they weren’t hiding though, didn’t mean they weren’t all visibly on edge. Murky could see that every single one of them was nervous, and the mood wasn’t helped by the steady thrumming that could still be felt in the ground.
“Where are you taking us?” Laura asked.
“Out of the way,” the lead soldier said. “You kids really have no idea what you lucked out of experiencing.”
“Could someone please explain what’s going on at least?” Jesse asked.
“That’s classified,” the soldier responded.
There were four or five tents that had been erected here, although from what Murky could tell from the broken bits of walkie-talkie chatter they could hear, this wasn’t the only camp that had been set up. It seemed there were stations like this set up all around the town, although no one would tell them why. The soldier led them to one tent that looked like it was full of some kind of supplies and then told them to get inside. The four of them did as they were told for now, and as the soldier left, Murky could hear him ordering two more soldiers to stand guard on them.
“What the hell is going on?” Jesse asked. “This can’t be real.”
“Laura, did that guy really say everyone in town is dead?” Murky asked.
“I’m sure he was lying to us,” Laura said, although she didn’t sound like she was sure she believed it.
“Did he say something about a portal?” Henderson asked. “What was he talking about?”
“And what was that light and noise?” Jesse asked.
“I don’t know!” Laura said, her normally calm voice rising, giving hint to hidden hysteria underneath. “I don’t know the answer to any of this.”
Jesse glanced around the tent, then dropped his voice to a whisper. “I bet you we could get out of here pretty ea
sy. It doesn’t look like they set this place up with the idea of keeping anyone in it.”
“Sure, but where would we go?” Henderson asked. “We’re still in a camp surrounded by soldiers who could blow our heads off.”
“They wouldn’t really do that,” Murky said. “Would they?”
Laura shrugged. Before they could discuss any of this any further, they heard raised voices from outside the front tent flap.
“Damn it, I’m not here to look after a bunch of kids.”
“Well, you don’t seem to be here for any reason, if you ask me.”
“What was that? What did you just say?”
“Nothing, ma’am.”
“Yeah, right. I bet.”
The flap got pulled aside and a woman with red hair and a black suit walked in. She let the flap close behind her, not even bothering to hold it for the soldier that had escorted her here. It didn’t sound like the soldier was that interested in them anymore anyway.
She sighed when she saw the four of them. “This whole thing just keeps getting more complicated the worse it becomes.”
All four of them started talking at once, most of them asking the same questions about what was going on, what was happening in the town, was everyone really dead…
“All right, hold on, stop,” the woman said as she held up her hands. “One at a time, and I honestly can’t guarantee that I can answer any of your questions anyway.”
“What was that flash of light?” Laura asked.
“That’s classified.”
“Why is the military here?” Jesse asked.
“That’s classified.”
“When are you going to let us go?” Henderson asked.
“Probably also classified.”
“Then what the hell is even not classified?” Henderson asked. “If I ask you if Redline Flight Cranks are included on the Skyway T/A BMX, are you going to say that’s classified, too?”
“I… I don’t have any clue what that means, so I couldn’t tell you if it’s classified or not.”