Aquifer: A Novel (44 page)

Some of the enlisted men glanced at each other sideways. These were very strange orders. Though no one spoke, they silently wondered if perhaps Major Reid hadn’t gone over the edge himself. Especially in light of the order he had given earlier to round up two dozen hogs from local farmers and slaughter them down by the river’s edge. He wasn’t preparing a barbeque. Of that, the men were certain.

*

At the crest of a hill, about a quarter of a mile away, Sheriff Akers had set up his own command post – it was not much, just a cooking fly for shade, a few folding chairs, a 5-gallon plastic water-cooling jug, and several pairs of binoculars. Though he didn’t think Reid’s plan was the best way to handle the situation, it was beyond his control. Clayton, Larry, Tina, Welton and the Mayor joined the Sheriff and his deputies as observers to witness the military in action.

Clayton was quite fidgety. Rationally he understood that the creatures must be destroyed, but emotionally he could not accept the destruction of an entire species, especially when that species came from another planet. If only there was something he could do, some way that he could preserve even one of the aliens. But Major Reid’s orders were firm. They could watch from a distance, but all specimens of the creatures and their eggs were to be destroyed.

*

Reid’s men baited the riverbank with several dozen cows and horses tethered along the shoreline of the Current River’s gravel bar. The local farmers from whom the livestock had been commandeered had protested quite vocally. Reid’s men assured them that they would receive just compensation, even handing out a receipt for each head of livestock they took. The Ozark farmers knew better than to trust the empty promises they received. They wisely knew that the only compensation they would ever receive was the piece of paper just placed into their hands.

The hogs that had been previously butchered were secured to large grappling hooks anchored to a massive, inch-and-a-half in diameter nylon, trot-line rope which ran down the river’s main channel. Reid chuckled at the thought of using a trot-line to chum for amphibians the size of alligators. He was confident that his trap would attract the aliens within a few hours, and then the fun would begin.

*

By late afternoon Major Reid’s men were becoming restless. They had been waiting and watching for hours in the muggy, shadeless, hot sun. They had taken up a defensive position just in front of the trees at the edge of the forest. Fifty yards of gravel bar separated them from the water. Just exactly what they were supposed to be watching for, they did not know.

Reid had told them that they would be shooting alligators, but the men knew that alligators did not live in the Ozarks. Perhaps it was possible that one or two small pets had escaped, but certainly not the hundreds of full grown alligators that Reid was claiming. Even if the alligators did exist, it certainly would not be the military’s job to eradicate them. That would be a matter for civilian authorities. Things just didn’t add up. The men instinctively knew that there was much more to the story than they were being told.

Still, they were professionals. They were used to going on missions where information was only disseminated on a need-to-know basis; and it was deemed long ago in some forgotten recess of military evolution, that infantrymen didn’t need-to-know, anything - ever!. They just needed to follow orders – and that is what the men would do.

The infantrymen were deployed on a gravel bar on one of the most picturesque rivers in the Ozarks. The camouflaged olive drab tents, vehicles and uniforms really were quite drab compared to the azure / aqua depths of the river’s deep channel which hugged the far shoreline where the limestone bluff came down to the water’s edge. The deep green of the forest-covered bluff intermingled with the white and grey of the contrasting limestone outcroppings seemed to crown the river with grandeur.

The fluidity of the river and the glint of the sun upon the crystal clear water made it seem as if the river flowed with liquid emeralds, diamonds, sapphires, and other precious stones. The smooth yellow, brown and white river rocks that formed the mudless bed of the river only enhanced the illusion and seemed to dance in the surreal world of sparkling water. The contrast of the river’s beauty with the drabness of their military surroundings was not lost on the men.

Major Reid, ever vigilant, surveyed the river, both upstream and downstream with his binoculars checking for any indication that the aliens were attracted by their bait. Satisfied that everything was still normal, he clicked the lens covers back onto his binoculars and returned them to their carrying case.

*

CLICK
– the sound of the lens caps snapping onto the binoculars bounced off the bluff wall on the far side of the river and echoed across the silence of the shore. Though a quarter of a mile away, the sound thundered in Clayton’s ears more loudly than if he had been standing right next to Reid.

There are certain sounds and certain smells that lock experiences into our memories where they remain sealed, long forgotten, until that same sound or that same smell releases them to our consciousness as vividly as the day they were experienced. That click was one of those sounds.

That click suddenly transported Clayton back to a Saturday night nearly two months earlier when he and Larry were catching frogs in a backwater slough on the Current River –
CLICK
, that mechanical sound, yes now he recognized it.
REID
!

Suddenly it all made sense to Clayton. That’s how Major Reid knew of his research. Reid had been observing him, trailing him, investigating him. Of course! He was the man at the saw mill; he was the fisherman floating behind them. He’s been involved in this cover-up from the beginning. Clayton immediately felt used, angry and betrayed. How could he have been so blind!

No sooner had this realization burst upon his mind, than did the accompanying understanding of the full consequences of that realization. Following the logic to its natural conclusions, as only Clayton’s analytical mind could do, he was forced to accept the inevitable.
“What difference would it have made if he had known
?” Obviously, whatever was going on with the military was happening on a much larger scale than they were being told. The cover-up would be complete. No one outside of a select group of high ranking military officers would ever know of the crash of the alien space craft, or the presence of extraterrestrial life forms. If he tried to publish his findings, he would be made the laughing stock of academia. Furthermore, his attempts to save the creatures would all be futile. Eminence would become another mysterious
Area 51
. This, Clayton was sure, had already been guaranteed by decision makers much more powerful than Reid - people who were insulated by many layers of anonymity and deniability.

*

The afternoon was beginning to wane. Soon the sun would begin its downward slide to the mountain ridge behind them. Major Reid stood firm and erect at his post even though streams of sweat ran down his cheeks and neck. His once crisply starched uniform was now saturated with rings and splotches of sweat and dry, salty patches. His men were beginning to tire. In an instant, however, the scene before them began to change.

A sentry noticed that the water upstream had darkened, the main channel of the river had become black. Perhaps, he thought, a cloud had obscured the sun, casting a shadow over the water. He glanced skyward but saw no clouds. Returning his gaze to the river it was obvious that something had physically changed the color of the water and it continued to get darker and darker as it moved downstream. It appeared as if a giant ink bottle had been poured into the river, and its inky murkiness was rapidly spreading downstream, but only in the depths of the river’s main channel on the far side, by the bluff.

*

At the Sheriff’s hilltop observation post Tina noticed the change, too. “Hey, something’s up!” she called to the others.

Quickly they all grabbed for their binoculars and began to focus on the river.

*

Major Reid was quick to sense that this was the moment for which he had been planning. The aliens were about to walk into his trap. “Lock and load,” he commanded. “Set your selectors for three round bursts. Stand by for my command.”

The infantrymen were immediately roused from their listlessness. Their senses immediately heightened to the peak of alertness. Obediently they chambered their rounds, took their weapons off safety and trained their sights upon the water.
But what was their target
? the men wondered. They saw no threat.

The infantrymen watched as the river seemed to boil and churn with some inky essence, but nothing broke the water’s surface.

Even trained professional soldiers become uneasy in unfamiliar circumstances, and this was indeed unfamiliar.

Then the ink cloud suddenly changed directions. Instead of following the main channel downstream it turned at a right angle and rushed at the shoreline right in front of the infantrymen. The water seethed and boiled as the cloud got closer and closer.

Then it burst upon the shore and thousands of young aliens leaped from the river, charging across the fifty yards of gravel bar separating them from the unprotected soldiers, ignoring the livestock bait tethered along the shoreline.

The aliens were small, ranging in size from that of a chicken up to a German Shepard. They charged, some on all fours, others running and jumping upright on their hind legs. All were growling, hissing, snarling and snapping their razor-sharp teeth. Obviously, these were not alligators the infantrymen realized, but they did not have time to contemplate the identity of the strange creatures madly rushing toward them.

“Fire!” yelled Reid.

The men opened fire on the advancing hoard of amphibious aliens, though their three round bursts had little impact.

“Switch to fully automatic!” yelled Reid.

Bullets sprayed the shoreline and dead aliens littered the gravel bar. The carnage had little impact upon the advancing swarm. The lead aliens were now halfway to the line of infantrymen.

Two Humvees roared onto the gravel bar, each with a mounted .50 caliber machine gun and a gunner who sprayed bullets at the swelling legions. The aliens however, gave them little notice, nor did their death toll seem to make a dent in their numbers.

The charging aliens reached the two Humvees and swarmed over them, attacking the soldiers onboard. Hundreds of small aliens climbed over the bodies of the machine gunners and drivers of the Humvees, biting, clawing and tearing the flesh from their bodies. The soldiers didn’t have a chance. They were quickly overpowered. Then, like hungry pirana in a feeding frenzy, the aliens totally devoured the carcasses of the fallen soldiers in a matter of seconds.

At that moment the onslaught reached the ranks of the infantry soldiers. The thousands of aliens, though small in stature, were vicious in their attack. Their razor-sharp teeth tore into the soldiers’ flesh like a hot knife through warm butter.

The scene of the hopelessly defenseless soldiers was reminiscent of pre-Revolutionary War battles in which opposing armies stood before each other and took turns firing, taking no cover and using no protection. Reid’s detachment stood before the swarming aliens, exposed, unprotected, not anticipating such an organized assault.

Reid had been right about one thing though; the battle was definitely like shooting fish in a barrel, but it wasn’t the aliens that were the fish.

“Retreat!” shouted the lieutenant. “Get to the vehicles!”

“Belay that order!” shouted Major Reid, standing on the hood of his Hummer. “They’re just dumb animals! Kill them, kill them all.”

To Reid, complying with his orders was the only thing that mattered. The safety and protection of his men was of no consequence. Outraged at the willingness of his Lieutenant to jeopardize the success of his mission, Reid whirled around to rebuke him.

At that moment, Gimp Foot and three dozen other fully grown adult aliens emerged from the forest just ten feet behind them.

Gimp Foot stood fully erect. His head was level with and only three feet from Reid’s face, staring him directly in the eye. For a moment Reid was speechless. Then he hastily reached for his .45 side arm, but before he could unholster it, Gimp Foot gave a quick flick of his tail and hurled Reid against the side of a transport truck. Then the alien pounced upon Reid, and quickly devoured him.

The other adults joined in the melee and within moments the fighting was over. The battlefield was strewn with the carcasses of hundreds of young, slain amphibians. There was military equipment and munitions scattered about, but absent were the bodies of the fallen soldiers. There were none to be found, for they had all been devoured. Then as quickly as the aliens appeared, they vanished. They all returned to the river and silently swam back upstream.

*

Everyone was speechless at Sheriff Aker’s observation post. Clayton was stunned. Larry was retching in the bushes and Tina was in tears.

The battle they had just observed was unbelievable. No one had expected the outcome they witnessed. The seriousness of their situation slowly began to sink in as they realized the danger their town now faced.

The Mayor was the first to speak. “I think we need to call another town meeting.”