Beast from the Dim

With my rifle clutched to my chest I sprinted to the old man standing over a carcass; his dog barked madly and ran around like an idiot.

"Did you get him, Roy?" I bellowed as I stopped and caught my breath.

"Can't tell," Roy said, spitting out tobacco juice, "but the commander said 'shoot at anything peculiar,' and that's the peculiarest looking chicken ah ever seed."

"That's no chicken. It was a roadrunner."

"So that's what them critters look like," he said, nudging the corpse with his toe. "Shut up, Chowder!" he yelled at the barking dog.

Chowder cowered and obeyed.

"Did you see anything else?"

"Nope. That be the first sign of life that I seed here on this godforsaken wasteland," he said, poking his shotgun at a large sagebrush.

I looked at the sagebrush, then back at Roy, and asked, "How does your wife like Vegas?"

"She seems to have taken a likin' to it. It's the most tremendous town we was ever at." He spat his tobacco again, narrowly missing Chowder, and said, "What in tarnation is it you reckon we're a hunting fer?"

"Don't know. You heard the same speech I did. 'Something strange, possibly large, maybe fast.' But not much could be said due to Area 51 regulations."

"Do you reckon it's one o' them there alien fellers?"

"Couldn't tell you. It might even be something they cooked up and it got away from them."

"Really," he said, his eyes like softballs and his mouth open.

"I just don't know."

"And why sech a mixture of fellers from around the country? Me, a retired coon hunter from Nowhar, Georgia, and you, a professional marksman from Lep . . . Lep-non--"

"Lebanon, Pennsylvania."

"Yeah, Lebanon, Pennsylvania. There was a passel of fellers from all over the country specializing at hunting and shooting and the like, but what fer?"

"That's what I'm saying. I--DON'T--KNOW!"

Roy stared at me, probably realizing he was beginning to push my buttons, and quickly changed the subject.

"You know kids these days, got they own way o' tawkin," he said.

"How's that?"

"Well, ah was a walking down that main street in Vegas--you knows the one."

"Las Vegas Boulevard?"

"Yeah, that's the one. Ah wuz suppose to meet up with my wife at that hotel place the government put us up at, Mandolin Bay."

"You mean Mandalay Bay?"

"That's it. Anyhow, this colored fellah comes up to me and says 'My old lady done split from my crib and took all my bread and ah ain't et in a week. Can you give me some bread so's ah can buy something to eat? You knows where I'm a coming from?' And ah says, 'Hell, boy, ah don't even knows where you been.'

"Then he got all rowdy and says, 'Don't you be a calling me boy. Ah ain't your boy!' And ah says, 'Hell, son, I'm three times your age. Ah calls everybody boy.' He up and turned around and walked off. Now what in tarnation does you make o' that, Gary?"

I shrugged and said, "It probably has something to do with the days of slavery. You'd be sensitive too if you were in his shoes."

"Yeah, I guess, but he weren't a wearing no shoes."

I lowered my head and shook it.

"An then ah was a walking a mite further down that there boulevard and ah seed a sign all lit up that said 'Bar Naked Ladies' on it, and ah could not believe--"

"ROY!"

"Huh?"

"If we're going to have any chance at getting this thing, we better stop talking, and I should go back to my point."

Roy leveled his hat, spat on the ground, and said, "Yeah, I guess yer right."

As I walked back to my spot I shouted over my shoulder, "And 'Bare Naked Ladies' is a singing group."

At length I made my way back to my area across the parched, undulating landscape, my rifle held loosely across my chest.

Arriving at Las Vegas' main airport, McCarran, the previous day, I'd noticed everything was first class--which was unusual for the government. My wife, Sophie, my six year old daughter, Rachel, and I were loaded into a limo and rushed to one of the nicest hotels on the strip--Mandalay Bay. After we unpacked, I was to leave my family and board a Janet flight--a government plane--to be flown to a military facility somewhere in the southern Nevada desert.

Just outside our room we ran into an old boyfriend of Sophie's--Billy Barlett. He seemed pleasant enough. As we talked, he let slip that he and Sophie had an affair about two years ago while I was away at a marksman show--Sophie and I have been married for seven years.

(Now you're probably wondering how someone could be that stupid to let something like that slip out. Had you met this guy you wouldn't have to ask--he had the IQ of a sparkplug.)

Anyhow Sophie and I got into a big argument before I left. She was saying she was truly sorry for her unfaithfulness. She said she needed someone desperately while I was gone and it was a one-time and one-time only thing. She begged for my forgiveness, and as I walked out the door I said that infidelity was the one thing I couldn't forgive. Before I slammed the door of the room I heard Rachel crying and Sophie saying, "Gary, Please!"

Chowder's barking snapped me back to the present, and I heard Roy holler, "Chowder, shut the hell up!"

My sentiments exactly, I thought, as I glanced back over my shoulder to see Chowder barking and running around like a whirling dervish.

I no sooner looked ahead when I heard Roy scream, "Gawwd-daamm!"

I spun around. Roy was floating about twenty-five feet in the air, screaming and flailing his arms and legs as Chowder barked and jumped at him. Then Roy was brought down, hard, and stopped abruptly at about fifteen feet. Roy split in half around his mid-section. He rose high into the air again and his entrails began to spill out and vanish! Nothing hit the ground except his upper and lower torso after they had been drained.

I froze as icy fingers danced down my spine. All I could do was breathe. After gaping for a few moments, I remembered my rifle. I raised it, aimed at the area where the atrocity had taken place, and fired. Chowder stopped barking and ran my way. I commenced running the opposite direction, but I tripped over a rock. I slid painfully head-first down an arroyo, along with my rifle. When I reached the bottom, I sprang to my feet, forgot about my rifle, and ran for all I was worth.

I must have run for ten minutes through the bowels of the arid wilderness. Fatigued and soaked with sweat, I spotted a helicopter about five hundred yards in the distance picking up hunters. I yelled and waved my arms. They must've seen me--they waited.

I continued with renewed vigor. Then I heard the padding of footsteps and heavy breathing right behind me. I looked over my shoulder, and there, running at my heels, was Chowder, his frothing mouth wide open and his tongue slapping his face.

I reached the chopper and dove in through the open door. It took off.

"Wait!" I shouted to a helicopter crew member. "We need to get the dog!"

The chopper set down again, and we all tried to lure Chowder on board. After succeeding, the copter started to rise, but jerked and shuddered as if something had grabbed it.

The pilot shouted, "Is the landing gear caught on a fence or something?"

"Nothing out there, sir!" a crewman answered.

The chopper groaned and creaked and slowly rose as if it were lifting a heavy weight. Suddenly, the weight seemed to drop off, and the chopper zoomed from the area.

Back at base, we were herded into a meeting room, and a lieutenant came in to speak with us. I told my story.

When I finished, one of the hunters said to the lieutenant, "You didn't tell us this thing was invisible."

"Technically, you know," the lieutenant said, "it's not invisible. We just can't see it."

"Isn't that the same thing?" the shooter asked.

"Well, you know, this creature can be seen through a spectrum of light that our sun doesn't emit. Consequently, you know, the creature appears invisible when in actuality it would be quite visible under the right conditions."

"So he's invisible!"

"Well . . . yeah."

"Typical government cover-up. Where did it come from?"

"Well, you know, I'm not at liberty to say."

"Well, 'ya know,'" the hunter said, mockingly, "I'm not sticking around to fight something I can't see, no matter what the reward!"

"Me neither," a few of us said. "Here, here," others remarked. We all got up to leave.

"Mr. Gary Kovalic!" the lieutenant bellowed.

"Yes," I said.

"We need you to stay briefly."

"Look, Lieutenant, I've got problems of my own."

"Please sit down. This will only take a minute."

I took a seat.

The lieutenant rose, opened a door behind him, and spoke to someone in the next room. I was unable to hear the conversation, but a minute or so later a man with an arm full of hash marks, a chest full of medals, and carrying his hat, walked into the room. He was introduced by the lieutenant as General Avery Lupin, commander of the base. The general spotted Chowder, pointed at him, and yelled, "Get that . . . that creature out of here!"

"Yes sir," the lieutenant said starting for the dog.

I jumped to my feet and shouted, "If he goes, I go!"

"Oh I'm sorry," the general said. "Is that your dog?"

"No. But he's the only one, thus far, that can sense that thing, and we've been through a lot together." I patted Chowders head.

"I apologize for over-reacting, but I've had a difficult history with dogs. Here's the thing. We will give you double the amount you would have earned, had you killed the beast, just for guiding us."

I thought for a second and said, "First of all, general, I want to know where this thing came from and why it's invisible."

"Sorry, son. That's on a need-to-know basis."

"Well, general, I lost a good friend out there, I lost my favorite rifle, and I almost lost my life, so if you want my help--I need to know!"

The general called the lieutenant over to him and they whispered to one another for a few moments. Finally the general looked up at me with his left eye twitching and said hesitantly, "All right.

"It's no secret that this installation conducts covert experiments. For the last five years or so we've been experimenting on something so revolutionary--"

"Is that thing out there from another planet?"

"Not exactly. It's--"

"Is it something you found in the ocean?"

"No. It's from the Dim!"

"From the what?"

"From the Dim. Another dimension. If you'll let me explain."

"Oh, sorry."

"Five years ago we discovered how to open a passage into another dimension. For the last two years we've been opening this 'door' and taking small items from this other-dimensional world."

"What sort of items?"

"Mostly natural things, like rocks and leaves. We did retrieve a cup, once. Our main problem was that nothing could be seen in our visible light spectrum. Apparently, in the other dimension, the visible window lies far into a longer wavelength, and these items can only be viewed in that wavelength."

"You mean like infrared?"

"Somewhat, yes. Anyhow, we opened this door last week to retrieve more plants, soil, and rocks for study. As we were closing the door, our detectors sounded off--something large had come through. It tore apart a guard, and escaped into the Nevada desert."

"So why do you need me? You've got hundreds of men with guns on this base. If you remember, I dropped my rifle when Roy was killed. Besides, I fired right at the thing, or what I perceived to be right at it, and my shot had no effect."

"As far as we know, you're the only person alive to have come in contact with the creature, not to mention that your reputation as a sharpshooter is legendary. We believe your help would be invaluable. We're working on a weapon with a special scope which will enable you to see the target."

"That's all well and good, general, but I've got problems of my own. I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline your offer."

"And I'm afraid you have no choice, Mr. Kovalic. We have guards outside your room at the hotel, so if you still love your wife and you ever want to see your family again, you will cooperate."

"Why, you son of a bitch," I said.

The general sat emotionlessly. He picked up a pencil from the desk, scratched the back of his head with it, and said, "What's it going to be, Kovalic?"

"Man, you're right out of a comic book," I said, as he sat and stared at me blankly. "I guess it'll have to be yes; after all, you're holding all the aces."

"Fine. One more thing. We have flown Mrs. McDunna in from Vegas. She'd like to speak to the last person who saw her husband alive."

"Roy's wife? Where is she?"

"She's over in the chapel. Make it snappy; we're on a tight schedule. We're setting a trap for that thing, and I want you there."

"You're all heart, general."

The general stood, his eye still twitching, and called the lieutenant in. "Escort Mr. Kovalic to the chapel to meet with Mrs. McDunna, but keep your eye on him."

The scorching air on the dry lakebed was unmoving. Occasionally a dust devil whirled aimlessly across its barren surface. The two-minute walk to the chapel from the air-conditioned meeting room was sweltering.

I approached the chapel doors and heard a woman sobbing. I gave the lieutenant a forlorn look and grasped the large brass door handles. Before pulling them open, he said, "Five minutes, you know, you have five minutes and then we must leave."

I nodded and gently pulled open the heavy wooden doors. Inside the dark chapel, on the rear pew, with her head down and a handkerchief at her nose, was a slightly older woman with graying blonde hair. She stood and straitened her black dress.

"Peaches?" I said as I crossed the short distance to her and grasped her hand.

"Oh, Gary, how could this've happened? He was sech a skilled hunter, and Chowdah wudah nevah let ennythin sneak up on him."

"These clowns didn't tell us about its invisibility."

"It's whut?"

"The thing we were hunting--it's invisible."

Peaches stared at me for a second and I stared back into her red, swollen eyes. For an older woman, she was quite attractive. "Whar is . . . he?" she whimpered.

I squeezed her hand and said, "Still out there. They're setting a trap for the beast and plan on retrieving Roy's bod . . . er, Roy's remains, then."

She stared off somewhere and said, "We wuz fixin on takin our fust sea cruise in the fo'ty o' so years we wuz married." Her bottom lip started trembling. "Roy sez we arned it . . . and now this." She placed her head on my shoulder and began to sob.

"Peaches."

"Y--yes, Gary?"

I placed my hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back a little to look into her face.

"I need to borrow Chowder for a few days. Seems he's the only one that can detect that thing."

"Sure, sure. Anythin I can do to halp. Just give him to yo lil girl when yo done." She rested her head on my shoulder once more.

The chapel door groaned open. I looked over at the light flooding in. The lieutenant stuck his head in and gave it a let's go toss. I tenderly pushed Peaches away and whispered, "Peaches, I have to leave now. I've got to help track down that beast. The military will get you home safely."

"Ah unnerstan," she said, still weeping. "Give 'em hell, Gary, but watch yer back." I kissed her softly on the forehead, whistled for Chowder, and left.

The lieutenant handed me a copy of Las Vegas' premier newspaper, The Vegas View:

Groom Lake General Quoted as Saying "Bombardment Just Target Practice, Nothing to Fret About."

General Lupin was quoted today as saying that heavy ordinance target practice will be held at Groom Lake this afternoon, and there will be no cause for alarm. The General was also quoted as saying that this is simply part of the nation's efforts to keep our troops at peak performance in the use of new and experimental technology.

Keeping Chowder calm on the short hop by chopper to where the trap was being set--the same spot where Roy had met his demise--proved difficult. He clearly didn't like flying.

As we hovered over the landing area, I looked across the vast Nevada wasteland; the military was out in full force, like flies on a carcass. Some were staking large groups of sheep, cows, and other animals on short tethers across the distant desert, to be used as bait. On our right, hundreds of troops checked their rifles and performed small arms maintenance. About a hundred yards to the right of the troops was an impressive line of cannons, howitzers, and short range missiles. Above us were helicopter gunships buzzing around like giant hornets.

Our chopper landed next to a group of Humvees and we piled out. Chowder was so elated that when he jumped out he ran in circles for a full three minutes.

I spotted General Lupin sitting in one of the Humvees, which was covered by a large tarpaulin. I walked over to him.

"Mr. Kovolic, how good of you to join us."

"Did I have a choice?"

The general gave me a malevolent grin. "What do you think of our military display?"

"What would you have me say, general? The thing's invisible. How are you going to fight something that's invisible?"

"You'll see," he said, grinning strangely, left eye twitching.

I sat down in the rear seat of the Humvee in the broiling heat. At length, another Humvee pulled alongside ours. A tall thin man with black horn-rims and a white lab coat stepped out. He reached in the back of the vehicle and pulled out a large case and a leather satchel.

"Here it is, general," he said proudly. "It's unwieldy and cumbersome, but it should adequately complete the task."

The general laid the case on his lap and opened it.

We all stared at the thing in it.

Although I could tell it was some kind of rifle, I said, "What the hell is that?"

The general said, "That, my dear Mr. Kovalic, is the weapon that's going to kill that thing," pointing toward the desert with his chin. He lifted the weapon from its case and looked through the peculiar scope attached to it.

"Here," the man in the white coat said. He turned on a switch attached to another tube connected to the side of the weapon. "This activates the invisible light spectrum generator. The weapon is a prototype, and unfortunately a bit clumsy, and a single-shot."

"What's the caliber?" I asked.

"Fifty-five caliber," Whitecoat said.

"Whoa!"

"Yeah. Has quite a recoil," he said pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Where's the ammo, Seymour?" the general asked.

Mr. Whitecoat slid the leather satchel off his sloping shoulder and handed it to the general, who handed it to me. Whitecoat unzipped the satchel, pulled out a six-inch mother of all cartridges, and jammed it into the rifle's breach. "There, the weapon's ready."

We waited around in the blistering desert sun for most the afternoon, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. Droplets of sweat streamed down my face and back as I sat in the rear of the Humvee waiting for the unknown. I had great admiration for the poor men standing, with all of their gear, in the direct sun.

The general said something to the lieutenant, and the lieutenant yelled to the men, "All right boys, get ready to pack 'er up!"

I looked at the general and he said, "It appears the trap has failed."

Just then an awful squalling came from downrange. I looked through the windshield, and about five hundred yards away, I saw one of the sheep floating above the ground. The general grabbed the weapon from me, switched on the light generator, and looked through the scope. "Sonuvabitch . . . there's two of 'em!"

"Let me see!" Whitecoat said, grabbing the weapon from the general and putting the scope up to his eye.

The general sat and glared at him.

"There aren't two of them, general," Whitecoat replied. "It's a voluntary phase shift."

"Voluntary phase shift! What the hell's that?"

Whitecoat pushed his glasses up and said, "This creature is pulsating between two adjacent locations at an exceptionally rapid velocity--so rapid that it appears in two places at once."

"But why?"

"For protection. Theoretically, if one image is molested, it won't be there; it'll re-emerge in its alternate position. This is fascinating!" he murmured under his breath.

"We'll see about that.

"Lieutenant!"

"YES, SIR."

"Commence alien annihilation."

"Yes, sir . . . Fire!" the lieutenant yelled.

"Fire! Fire! Fire!" the command was conveyed down the line.

Then all hell broke loose. I put my fingers in my ears as massive howitzers and S.T.S. missiles answered the command. The M-16's and machine guns whined their insipid rat-tat-tat as the ordnance focused on the target.

The sheep was jerked down a bit, and torn open as detonating missiles flowered around it sending shock waves from their blast. The waves hit and reverberated through my head and chest, leaving me slightly nauseated.

The bombardment lasted five minutes before Whitecoat peered through the weapon's scope and announced, "Negative outcome, sir."

"What?"

"The barrage had no effect."

"That's impossible!" the general yelled. He grabbed the weapon from Whitecoat, looked through the scope, and said, "You're right. Shoot the damn thing, Kovalic!" He turned and handed the rifle to me. By this time the sheep carcass had dropped to the ground.

I stood up in the Humvee and looked through the scope. "I don't see anything," I said.

"Focus on the detonation area," the general said.

"I am, but there's nothing there."

A loud scream came from close behind us and one of the troopers was hoisted into the air kicking and yelling.

The general yelled, "Let's get outta here, Seymour!"

The general, his driver, and Whitecoat spilled out of the Humvee and sprinted to the waiting chopper as the troops panicked and ran every which way, some yelling, some cursing, and some shooting chaotically at the invisible foe.

I yelled, "General, what about me?"

"Take the Humvee!" the general yelled, as the chopper lifted.

I tossed the rifle and the satchel of cartridges onto the back seat, whistled for Chowder, and fired that mother up. After Chowder jumped in, I fishtailed out of the area, stopping only to pick up a few horrified fleeing soldiers.

My only thought now was of my wife and daughter. I had ninety-five miles of serious driving before me and it was getting dark.

#

After I'd let the soldiers out, I stopped for gas and bought a copy of The Vegas View.

Woman Claims Encounter with Unseen Terror

Sheriffs' deputies are investigating the claim of a local "businesswoman" who reported an attack on her and her business manager on the outskirts of the city last night at around 11:00 PM. Ms Gloria Swanson told police that she and her manager were discussing a recent business transaction when she was knocked, face-first, to the ground by her partner. She then heard her associate scream, "like the devil had him," Ms Swanson said. "I rolled over to see what his problem was, but he was up in the air, kicking and screaming.

"He was thrust down and stopped abruptly," Ms Swanson continued, "then broke open like an egg on a mixing bowl. He floated up again and his innards drained out and disappeared in mid-air. I jumped into my Caddy and left the premises."

This account is the third reported this week by this newspaper of a mysterious entity killing our citizens. The police have declined comment.

The tiny amount of sleep I received that night on the cold Nevada desert was welcome. The next morning I pulled into the outskirts of Vegas and could see that something wasn't right. Far off toward the city center, plumes of smoke billowed languidly in the otherwise clear desert sky.

The streets were littered with trash, and people were looting the empty houses along the way. I drove faster to get to the Strip, but the closer I got, the more the city looked like a war zone.

I pulled over to the side of the road and flagged down a man running on the sidewalk.

"What's going on?"

"What do you mean?" the man puffed, stopping and resting his hands on his knees.

"What's with all the looting and unrest?"

"Don't you read the paper?"

"I've been out of town."

"There's an invisible force or creature or something walking around and tearing people apart. Everybody's flying out that can afford a ticket. The rest, like me, have to steal a car." He stopped talking and peered at the Humvee. Chowder bared his teeth and growled. I figured the conversation was over and popped the clutch.

I tore downtown and rounded a corner--maybe faster than I should have with all the debris in the street--and bounced over a lamppost lying across the road. As I was struggling to regain control of the vehicle, I ran over a man lying facedown in the street. I could feel the softness of his body as it passed beneath my wheels. I hoped and prayed he was already dead, as I charged up the strip. In the distance I saw a mile-long line of cars leading to the airport.

I pulled the Humvee into the tranquil underground parking garage of Mandalay Bay and cut the engine. My gut clenched at the sounds of the chaos in the street. I waited for the elevator to arrive and thanked God they were still running. Somewhere close, a large explosion shook the ground and dust fell from the garage ceiling.

I told Chowder to "stay" when the elevator arrived. I boarded it and pushed the button for the 11^th floor. The doors closed, insulating me from the outside noise, and I was whisked to my floor.

The elevator door opened, and I peeked around the corner in the direction of my room expecting to see military guards stationed there.

No guards.

Except for some debris, the hall was empty. Had the guards fled, or was the general bluffing?

I ran to room 1138, pulled the key-card from my rear pocket, and jammed it into the lock. I threw open the door.

My fears of my wife and child being dead or injured were replaced by fury when I saw Sophie sitting in a chair across from Billy Barlett, drinking coffee and casually shooting the breeze.

The fury must have been evident because as I crossed the room in their direction Sophie jumped up, stood in my way, and said, "Now, Gary, take it easy."

"WHAT'S HE DOING HERE?"

"He's here to leave with us. I knew you'd come despite our last quarrel, so I invited him to go with us."

Rachel latched onto my leg crying. I patted her head as I glared at Billy who sported a victorious grin.

"We've got to get out of here now," I said to Sophie a little more composed, "and the airport is jammed."

"Daddy," Rachel cried, still hugging my leg.

"Rachel, go get your stuff. We're leaving."

Reluctantly she turned and walked to her bedroom with her head down.

"I haven't packed yet," Sophie said, "I'll need about an hour to--"

"We don't have time! We've got to leave, now!" I said. "Grab some blankets and pillows. We'll be spending the night under the stars."

"Where are we going?"

"Toward Reno. Rachel, are you ready?"

"Coming, Daddy." She emerged from her room with her backpack, and a doll tucked under her arm. "Here I am."

"Good girl. Now, you and Mommy get on the elevator and take it to the garage. Climb into the camo Humvee parked by the elevator. Billy and I will grab a mattress. I think we can squeeze it in the back of the Humvee. It'll give you some comfort when we sleep out."

Sophie and Rachel picked up some blankets and pillows and walked to the elevator. Billy and I rolled up a mattress and headed for the door.

"You don't mind me coming with you," Billy said, "after all, we've both known your wife . . . in the biblical sense." I looked back at him and he was still wearing that shit-eating grin.

That was it. I'd had it. I set my end of the mattress down and acted like I was tying my shoe. Then, spinning and thrusting up with all I had, I came around with a right cross striking him squarely on the nose. I felt the cartilage in his nose mash under the blow. His feet lifted from the floor as he flew back and landed on a small table in front of the sofa, shattering it to bits. A fall any Hollywood stuntman would envy.

(I know it was just a sneaky sucker punch, but if I'd fought him fair and square the big oaf would've kicked my ass.)

I stood over him with clenched fists waiting for a reprisal, but to my surprise, he looked up at me with tears running down his face, mixing with blood from a badly damaged nose, and said, "But, Gary, where will I go, what will I do?"

To which I said, "Frankly, Barlett, I don't give a damn." I spun on my heel, grabbed the bulky mattress, and dragged it from the room.

When the elevator arrived at the garage and the doors opened, I lugged the mattress to the Humvee. It was full of blankets and pillows, but I was able to shove the mattress in the back.

"Where's Billy?" Sophie screeched, hands on her hips.

"He decided to take the bus."

"Gary, you didn't?"

"What?"

"You had a fight!"

"No no, just a discussion. I made him realize that we perform better as a family without him."

"Then why is your hand all bloody and swollen?"

(I could tell she was pissed.)

"Gary, he's my friend!"

"Well he's no friend of mine!"

"Daddy," I vaguely felt Rachel tugging my pant leg.

"Get in the car, Rachel!" I yelled.

"You will go up and help Billy down to the car!" Sophie screamed.

"Daddy--"

"I will not! He'll fit right in with this mob!" I shouted, gesturing toward the street.

"If you don't get him right now I'm going to--"

"Daddy?"

"What is it, Rachel?"

She looked at me in surprise and said, "There's too much stuff on the seat."

"You're simply going to have to make room!"

Just then the outside mob entered the parking area. They were yelling and screaming and swinging chunks of wood and other debris. Some of the rabble broke into a few cars at the other end of the garage and hot-wired them. The rest started our way. I saw Rachel in the Humvee so I looked at Sophie and shouted, "Get your ass in the vehicle or I'm leaving without you!"

Sophie and I jumped in the Humvee and we sped toward the throng and the only exit. While most of the assemblage got out of our way, a few threw boards and rocks at us as we charged by. One item hit the windshield sending spider web cracks through it. We maneuvered down streets clogged with people; we passed blazing buildings and great throngs heading in the same direction--out of town.

Occasionally a number of people tried to mob us, but I accelerated and left them in the dust.

Finally we reached the outskirts of the city where the road cleared a little and we were able to make better time.

Sophie hadn't said a word since we left the hotel, and that might have been a blessing. I was tired of all the bickering. Billy and his snide little grin wasn't with us, and I was thankful.

We cruised up Highway 95 toward Reno.

After about two hours driving, I heard a little voice in the back seat say, "Daddy, I'm hungry."

"I could eat something, too," Sophie muttered.

I looked at a road map I'd found in the glove box, and said, "The small town of Hawthorne is just ahead, and we need gas. We can pick up something to eat there." The gas gauge was on E and I was hoping we could make it.

Twenty minutes later we pulled into a deserted Exxon station and I leaned on the horn. The blast echoed off the surrounding hills.

When nobody showed, I got out and looked around. There were bars in front of two doors to the station, but somebody had cut through the bars, and one door was slightly ajar. I climbed through the hole in the bars and pushed the door open. The inside of the store was a disaster. Racks and merchandise were strewn all over. The register lay on its side in the middle of the floor--broken open and empty. A fluorescent light fixture hung by a single chain, bulbs smashed, and swayed back and forth in the gentle desert breeze that wafted through a shattered window. I searched for the keys to the gas pumps without success, so I laid a twenty on the counter and picked up a newspaper from the floor, a few bags of chips, three cans of soda, and a can of beef stew. I climbed back through the bars, walked to the Humvee, and dropped the groceries on the front seat.

Suddenly the warm desert breeze blowing against my back stopped as if somebody or something had come up behind me. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand, and my body tingled with fear.

Chowder growled.

Slowly I turned to look behind me but saw nothing. Before turning back to the Humvee, I caught a glimpse of something moving behind a group of bushes at the rear of the station, about a hundred feet away. I said to my wife and daughter, "Wait here; I'll be back."

"Where are you going? You are not leaving us alone!" Sophie demanded.

"Sh-h-h! Right over there," I whispered, pointing to the spot where I'd seen the movement.

"Daddy, please don't leave."

"It's all right Rachel. Daddy will be right back."

I crept over to the bushes. A wooden fence, which turned out to be a corral, stood behind the shrubbery. Inside the corral were two mares; one black and one beige. I chuckled to myself and walked back to the Humvee.

"Horses," I said. "You know, we're not going to get very far without gas."

"Let's break into that motel," Sophie said, pointing at some flophouse, "and spend the night there."

"No; I want to get as close to Reno and as far away from Vegas as we can."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"You drive the Humvee and I'll follow with the two horses. When the Humvee quits, we'll camp there for the night and make our way to Reno the next day on horseback. We won't need the mattress and blankets after tonight so we'll just leave them at the camp."

I walked back to the corral and searched for saddles or reins. All I found was an extension cord, so I jury-rigged a couple of halters with my pocketknife and led the horses to the Humvee.

"Can I ride the horsy with you?" Rachel squealed.

"Sure you can, sweetie." I got up on the beige mare.

I reached down for Rachel and pulled her up. She had a lot of questions for me, such as, "How do you steer the horsy? How can you tell if he's tired?" and of course, "Are we there yet?"

After about an hour of traveling, the Humvee spat and sputtered, and finally gave out.

"This looks like a good place to camp," I announced.

"Do we have a choice?" Sophie spat.

"I like it just fine," Rachel said pleasantly.

I started a campfire and opened the can of beef stew with my pocket knife. It wasn't easy. Sophie warmed the stew in the can over the fire while Rachel and I unloaded the Humvee. We placed the mattress on the ground and piled the blankets and pillows on top. I pulled the weapon from the vehicle and searched for the satchel of cartridges.

It was gone!

I yelled at Sophie, "Where's the satchel?"

"What satchel?"

"The leather satchel that was on the back seat!"

"I don't know. I didn't take it."

"I need that satchel!" I said heatedly. "If I don't have any ammo--"

"What do you want me to do, pull it outta my--"

"I'm sorry, daddy."

"Huh?" I said, looking down at my daughter standing next to my leg.

"I took the leather bag out of the car," she said. "You said to make room, so I pushed it out of the car onto the floor. I'm so sorry, Daddy." I looked down, saw the tears streaming down her tiny face, and then I knew what she must've been going through. I knelt down so I was eye level with her.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," I whispered, "I didn't mean to make you cry." I wrapped her in a hug. "What floor did you push the leather bag onto?"

"The floor that you parked the car on at the place me and Mommy slept last night. I'm sorry, Daddy." And she started to cry again.

I thought a second and said, "Rachel, sweetie, don't cry. It was Daddy's fault for not paying attention to you. We probably won't even need the ammo. But please don't cry any more. It makes daddy sad."

"Okay, Daddy," sniff, "I'll stop."

"Get the rest of the stuff from the car, sweetie," I said. I looked down at the weapon in my hand, opened the breech, and stared at the lone cartridge Whitecoat had loaded at Area 51. Carefully I set the firearm against a nearby tree and spent the rest of the evening playing with Chowder and my daughter.

"I wish we had some marshmallows," I said as we were settling down.

"Why?" Rachel asked.

"'Cause we could roast them over the campfire--It's fun."

"Yeah I wish we had some too," Rachel said, cuddling up to me. Rachel and I sat by the fire for an hour just talking and acting silly.

Finally I said, "It's about time for bed. We've got a long day on horseback tomorrow."

"I don't wanna' go to bed by myself. I'm scared."

"Mommy can go with you. She needs to rest also," I said.

(That's when I got a look from Sophie; you know the one, like I'd just pissed on the rug.)

"Okay, daddy. Where's the baffroom?"

"You're going to have to explain to her about the tree bathroom, Sophie."

I walked over to the Humvee, pulled a flashlight from the glove box, handed it to Sophie, and said, "Stay in sight. I'll keep an eye open on the surrounding area." Chowder went with them.

I picked up the weapon, activated the invisible light spectrum generator, and visually combed the region through the scope. The ladies proceeded with their business as I worried about the power pack batteries running out of juice.

Rachel and Sophie returned, climbed between the covers on the mattress, and fell fast asleep. I was tired also, but I was too wound up to sleep at the moment. I set the weapon down against a boulder, sat on a smaller rock next to Chowder, and reflected on the last few days.

I thought of General Lupin and that odd Seymour--Mr. Whitecoat. I thought of that strange lieutenant; I thought of Peaches and Roy, and all the people who had died under the claws of the beast.

I looked up at the billions of stars displayed across the evening sky, and prayed.

The crickets played a cheerful little tune, as Chowder, lying at my feet, snored a resonating bass to their song. An occasional snort from the horses grazing beneath a scrub tree, and my adenoidal daughter's buzzing, rounded out this cacophony of sound. In the distance, the lonesome howl of a coyote brought home just how isolated we were.

I looked back to the glow of the fading embers and found my head bobbing as I tried to stay awake. I crawled under the blankets next to Rachel and stared up at the night sky, watching the occasional meteor dropping into the atmosphere.

Tomorrow, I thought, we will be in Reno, and safe.

After a bit, sleep enveloped me. I heard nothing, not even the occasional passing of a vehicle on the nearby highway.

About 2:00 A.M. I was awakened by loud screaming. I snapped out of my deep sleep and saw the beige mare about twenty-five feet in the air, screaming horribly. My wife woke and began to shriek and my daughter followed suit. To top off the chorus, Chowder jumped up and started barking at the thing that had the horse.

I sprang for the rifle while keeping my eyes on the mare. I felt for the weapon and bumped it. It fell with a dink. Oh no, I thought, was that the scope?

I picked up the rifle and switched on the invisible light spectrum generator. Behind me came the screeching of tires and a loud crash. I glanced to my rear. The full moon cast its bright glow on the road, and I saw steam or smoke pouring from a car piled up against a large juniper.

I turned my head back and looked through the scope at the action. It was hideous. The scope was damaged, but I could still see more than enough around the cracks.

Before me stood--what appeared to be--a pair of thirty to thirty-five foot bipedal beasts with pus-colored, slimy skin. A pair of empty eyes peered out of its gaunt, featureless face, and shown brightly like a pair of flashlights. The creature on the left side held the screaming and flailing mare in its long bony fingers above its hairless head. It brought the unfortunate mare's belly down across a sharp, bony protrusion--resembling an upright horn--on its chest. The mare split open around her middle, like an egg on a mixing bowl. The creature lifted her up above its head and tilted her toward itself. Her viscera spilled out into its enormous maw crowded with a hundred conical teeth sticking out every which way.

I felt weak and my legs trembled from the horror of it all. I thought I'd pass out, but I focused instead on the job at hand.

"Looksh like there's something wrong with your horsh," I heard an unfamiliar voice behind me say, giving me quite a start.

I spun around and saw a drunken man from the collision, holding a bottle and staggering my way. I ignored him and sprinted over to my screaming wife and daughter.

"Sophie," I said. She kept screaming.

"Sophie!" I yelled. More screaming. She's panicking, I thought, I guess I'm supposed to slap her--but I can't slap her.

Finally I grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulled her to her feet, and bellowed, "Sooo-ffee!"

She stopped screaming, looked into my eyes, and said, "What?"

"Take Rachel and run that way," I pointed across the highway from the beast.

Sophie picked up the screaming child and ran. I opened the breach and checked the cartridge--still there. Chowder was barking, stiff-legged, and frothing at our invisible foe.

Rachel's screams grew fainter as Sophie ran with her into the desert on the other side of the highway. I looked through the scope and aimed at the creature on my left, the one holding the mare's carcass. I aimed for its heart--or was it its heart? I wasn't sure.

"What're you doin'," asked the drunk. "The dog'sh over there," he pointed at Chowder. "Shoot him."

Yeah, I thought, I'd like to shoot you both.

Then it hit me. One shot--two targets.

I stumbled over rocks and branches around to the monsters' right so that both images were in line, one in back of the other. The one in front had spotted Chowder and was reaching for him. I had to do something quick. When in doubt, go for the brain. I raised my sights a hair, to a small hole at the side of its head--an ear, I presumed. Its bony claw was within a foot of the snarling dog. I squeezed the trigger slowly, so I wouldn't jerk the business end of the weapon.

The report was deafening, the flash was blinding, and the recoil was like a wrecking ball. I was kicked back a good five feet onto my back. I lay there for a moment, head spinning, shoulder aching, and ears ringing, until I got my bearings.

I jumped up, found the weapon, and focused the scope on where I had last seen the beast. It wasn't there, and neither was Chowder. Anxiously I swung the scope around to locate the creature--to no avail. Then I focused on the ground where the beast last stood. There, in a great mass, was one body with the top of its head sheared off.

Back at Groom Lake, I shook hands with General Lupin as Sophie, and Rachel--with her arm around her new best friend, Chowder--looked on.

"That was quite an achievement, Kovalic," the general said, pumping my hand. "Your check will be forwarded to your bank in Lebanon, Pennsylvania, within the week."

"That'll be fine, general," I said. "Have you found out anything further about the creature?"

"No, but we're modifying the rifle scope into something practical for an autopsy on a creature that size."

Just then there was a loud knock on the door. "Come in," Lupin said. The door opened promptly and in walked Whitecoat.

"We have a minor problem," Whitecoat said, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"What is it?" Lupin asked. Whitecoat looked apprehensively at me and my family. "You can talk in front of them, Seymour," the General said.

"It's the creature, sir."

"What about him?"

"As near as we can tell it wasn't a him--it was a her, and shortly before she was killed, she laid some eggs."

THE END

Bio: John has worked in mills, in sales, and his own businesses. He's toured Europe by different means (bicycle, hiking, and an old VW). He's been in a garage band, been a gold miner, and a scuba diver. He's been writing for eleven years and has well over 300 rejection slips.

E-mail: J. Eckert Lytle

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