The Seals
by Eric S. Brown
“To Hell with this!” Major Desmond raged as he rammed a fresh clip
into his M-16. “I am not waiting here to die.”
“And what would you do, Major?” A smile pulled itself tightly across
Dr.
Green’s lips. “Going out there will only bring death to you faster,” he
laughed. “Did you not see what happened to your men? The tentacles that
grew out of Private Richardson’s own body before they tore him to shreds
and left his pieces on the floor? The way Simmons’ eyes turned to blood
and oozed out of his sockets when tried to look outside at the sky or the legion
of rat-like creatures on two tiny legs with hungry teeth that swarmed over Barker
as he tried to go back for Simmons to drag him to safety in this freezer with
us? The seals have been broken Major. To go outside will bring you only death
at the “Old Ones” hands.”
Desmond slumped back on the floor of the cryogenic storage room, his back resting
against one of its frigid walls. He clutched his rifle in a white-knuckled grip. “I
was sent out here to bring you to Washington, Dr. Green. You’re supposed
to be an expert on these creatures. The whole country needs your help. We have
to get out of here.”
“It’s far too late for that,” Green answered pulling his jacket tighter
about his thin body. “The things I could have taught you, all the signs,
incantations, and symbols are meaningless now. They were all designed to strengthen
the barriers to make sure this world stayed safe. Now that the spawn have broken
through there is nothing that I have to offer the world to use in defense against
them. Nothing.”
Major Desmond gritted his teeth. “Look, Green, these things are just aliens.
There has to be a way to kill them or at least send them back where they came
from.”
“Silver bullets? Wooden Stakes? No, Major. You watch too many movies.
These creatures are in essence, Gods. The Earth belonged to them long before
the human race was
even a gleam in the cosmos’s eyes and now the world is theirs again. Were
it not for the steel walls of this windowless vault we, too, would be dead or
mad, as I am sure most of the planet already is. You should count your blessing
Major. Had you not found me in my lab and we been able to duck inside this freezing
unit as the seals broke they’d be coming for you in one form or another
at this very moment.”
“So what do we do?” Desmond spat at Green.
“We, my dear Major, get to wait to freeze to death in here with my samples.
We get to die a natural death and if we are lucky, our souls may escape them
unnoticed.”
Major Desmond leaned forward. “Green you are one sick bastard. I can see
why so many of your ancestors died in asylums.”
“Go on then Major, if you must,” Green chuckled. “I can see
giving up is not in your nature but remember you have been warned. My grandfather
tried
to warn all of you through his stories just as I have warned you now.”
Desmond leapt to his feet and yanked open the cryo-storage unit’s door.
There were no monsters waiting for him outside in the lab. Only broken equipment,
scattered papers, and two of his men’s skeletons, picked free of flesh
by the rat-things hours before.
Desmond heard Green slam the door behind him as he stepped out. The Major walked
over to the window and found the courage to look outside. The sun had become
a sickly shade of green and monstrosities on leathery wings swam through the
black clouds above. The grass on the university’s lawn had turned gray
and scales covered each blade as they swayed in the hot breeze like serpents.
Desmond whirled around as the outer door to Dr. Green’s lab thudded open
and a flood of tentacles poured inside writhing towards him like a moving wall.
Inside the cryo-unit, Green heard gunshots and then long screams. He made an
intricate gesture with his right hand as he said a prayer for Desmond’s
soul. Green leaned back and glanced, one last time, at the black and white picture
of his mother, Sonia, in his hand then returned it careful to his jacket pocket.
It was so cold and he was so tired. He thought he might sleep for a bit and lord
willing, he wouldn’t wake up.
|