Alien Jungle (13 page)

I
mpani snarled, “Stop! Let him go!”

She shoved the plant woman and tried to drag Anselmi away. Anselmi shrieked. His voice echoed her panic.

Oh God, oh God.

She pried at their arms, her boot wedged against the plant woman’s chest. Pushing. Pulling. What was she going to do?

“Here!” she cried. “Take me instead!”

The woman didn’t budge. Moss rippled down her arms and up Anselmi’s. Impani spun and aimed a solid kick into the woman’s back. It was like striking a boulder. Pain radiated to her hip.

“Damn you!” She raised her flamethrower. But if she fired, she risked burning her friend. Instead, she butt-ended the woman’s head. Then she swung the gun down upon their linked arms and chopped at their hands. Her yells punctuated each blow. “Let. Him. Go.”

Their arms elongated like pulled taffy. At last, Anselmi tore free. Strings trailed his mossy fingers. He dropped to his knees.

With both her gaze and her gun trained on the woman, Impani ducked beneath Anselmi’s arm and pulled him up. How could she have thought a human remained within the monster?

She shuffled backward with Anselmi heavy upon her shoulder and edged toward the outer hatch. The moss thing raised its arms to the light as if paying homage to its god. Impani hauled Anselmi through the airlock then slammed the hatch shut.

She stood weak-kneed, replaying the horror, feeling that she might be sick.
Should have blanketed the room in flame.
Then Anselmi groaned and snapped her back to the present. Backed against the wall, she glanced about the black-misted night. They might have been safer inside with only one monster to fight.

With narrowed eyes, she stared into the impenetrable fungus jungle. She couldn’t carry Anselmi back to camp. Neither could she stand there—a waiting target. Should she activate her Impellic ring and transport them back to Central? She shook her head. Robert and Natica were already gone. If she left too, Trace would be stranded. She couldn’t stand it if anything happened to him.

At the thought, she keyed her com. “Trace? Trace, do you read?”

She wanted so much to hear his voice that, for a moment, she thought she could. But it was Anselmi muttering feverishly. With a firm hold on his waist, she hoisted him higher and forced him to walk.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m getting you out of here.”

“You were supposed to run.”

“I would run.” She panted. “If you would move a little faster.”

She looked behind, one eye on the hatch, one eye on the jungle. Anselmi pressed upon her. He moaned.

She jostled him. “That’s right. Keep moving. You’re doing fine. Can you communicate with them?”

“I feel them.” He gasped. “Moving. Inside me.”

“Like parasites?”

“They want to take over my body.”

“Tell them to stop. Tell them that taking over a person’s body is not a good first step toward friendship.”

She staggered forward, bolstering him. Her legs trembled with his weight. With a grunt, he stumbled, slipped from her grasp, and struck the ground.

“Anselmi!” She grasped his shoulders then glanced about as if help were on its way. What should she do? She had to get him back to camp.

“They don’t understand friendship,” he murmured.

She took his moss-covered hand in hers. “This is friendship. I won’t leave you.”

He nodded. Breath rattled in his throat.

Oh God.

Her fingers shook as she pulled out her med-pac and went through her supplies. There was an analgesic, antidotes to poisons and venom, an antibiotic… She loaded everything she had including the multivitamin into the derma-jecter. Clearing a spot on his wrist, she injected him with the heavy dose.

“The plants don’t kill you,” she whispered like a litany.

Despite what had happened, she was certain something human remained in the plant woman. That was why she wouldn’t leave the dome. The woman’s volition was stronger than the plants’ compulsion.

“They are becoming adept at this,” Anselmi said. “At first, when they entered a person’s body, all they did was make them ill.”

“But why go inside a person at all?”

“To learn. To understand.” He groaned as if in pain. “They’re having difficulty with my anatomy.”

“Tell them what they’re doing is wrong.” She shook him. “Anselmi?”

His head lolled.

Impani looked around, desperate for inspiration. She could make a litter, strap mushroom trunks together with those cordlike vines. But those were the vines that had trapped Trace and Natica when they’d first arrived onworld. She couldn’t risk having them trap her, too. Then she remembered the ATV that Trace and Robert found. Would it still run?

She pulled Anselmi to his feet. “Up. Wake up.”

“What? Where are we going?”

“We’re going to see if the doctor can remove your parasites.”

She walked him down the middle of the paddock. In the dark, the mossy mounds looked alike. She scoured her memory for landmarks and finally reached what she believed to be the ATV. She leaned her partner against the side.

He panted. “What must you think of me?”

“I think you win the hero competition.”

He chuckled then grimaced and grasped his chest.

Impani ripped away vines to reveal the headlight they’d found before. Then she uncovered a wide tread. Good. At least, they wouldn’t have to worry about flat tires. She continued along the side until she found a door.

Anselmi groaned and slumped.

She caught him before he hit the ground. “No, no. Stay awake. You have to fight it.”

“I cannot.”

“Talk to them. Talk to me. Just try to hang on.”

With her partner braced against her shoulder, she wrenched open the door. It sounded like tearing metal.

“Up you go. That’s right.” She helped him over the tread and into the cab.

Fist deep in moss, she climbed atop the ATV to clear the windshield. When at last she was satisfied that she’d be able to see where she was driving, she slid into the driver’s seat.

The cab’s interior was mildewed but free of growth. Impani groped the darkness for the controls. The dashboard lit. She blew out the breath she’d been holding and grinned. “Battery life of five billion years.”

Anselmi hunched forward in a coughing fit. Pink dust exploded behind his facemask. He retched. Impani hesitated then pulled off his mask. Vomit spattered over his lap and onto the floor.

She touched his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“They are confused by my spinal column.”

She chuckled. “External, isn’t it?”

He coughed and sagged against the seat.

Impani started the engine. The vehicle lurched. With one headlight to guide her, she pushed into the trees.

T
race and his father sat side-by-side in the Lander. The only light came from the flickering instrument panels; Trace insisted upon conserving as much energy as they could.

Aldus said, “Remember the time she found that baby bird in the forest, and she brought it back to the farm to nurse it to health?”

“And it turned out to be a Gargantuan Horn-head?”

“And it grew and grew.”

They laughed.

Trace said, “I remember her running through the yard, flapping her arms, trying to teach it to fly.”

“That bird had a wing span wider than this ship.” Aldus shook his head and chuckled. “When your mother made up her mind to do something…”

“I miss her.”

“I know. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of her. Wish we could get this planet to work right, propagate Susan’s Gift.”

“She’d like that.” Trace got up and walked to the hub. A screen showed a pulsing circle with flashes of movement along the perimeter. “The creatures are still testing our sensors.”

“Well, let’s hope you think of a way out of here before they figure a way inside.”

“Me?”

“You’re team leader. And you’d better hurry. I’m getting hungry.”

Trace puffed out his cheeks and leaned against the control panel. “If we can get communications running, we can contact camp and arrange to be picked up.”

“A stellar idea. Exactly what I did the last time I was trapped here.”

“You’ve been through this before?”

His father’s face fell. “That’s how I knew Cole would show.”

Trace looked away.
They’d both lost a friend
. After a moment, he said, “The problem is we don’t have enough power to keep the sensors up and send a message at the same time. As soon as the creatures realize the barrier is gone, they’ll be all over us.”

“Won’t the airlock hold?”

“Cole knows how to open the hatch. Too bad you can’t rekey the passcode.”

Aldus’ eyes widened. “Now, that’s worth a try.” He snapped up a flashlight from a supply cabinet on the wall and rushed across the room.

Trace walked around the hub to the communications console. Although the panel was dark, he could see that the controls were standard. He didn’t doubt he could get a message through. But he felt strangely reluctant, as if he would rather hide in the Lander and not face the looming repercussions. More than likely, the Board would dismiss him for failing to follow orders. He’d go back to the penal colony. Impani would go on without him.

“I think I’ve got it,” Aldus called. “Yes. The hatch is rekeyed.”

“Good. I’m rerouting energy. Sensors are offline.”

“Our friends should be paying us a visit anytime now.” Aldus returned to the hub.

Trace opened a channel. “Lander to base. Come in. Lander to base. Do you read?” He flinched at a burst of static. “Let’s hope someone’s around to pick up our hail.”

“The call will go into the weather station. One of the meteorologists will be there.” Aldus’ words were confident, but his expression was not. He looked tired and old, the dim light drawing deep lines across his face.

“Lander to base. This is Trace Hanson. Can anyone hear me?”

A voice broke through the crackle. “Trace? Is that you? Hang on. Hey, it’s Trace Hanson.”

Then another voice. “This is Madsen. What’s your situation?”

“Dad and I are trapped in the Lander.”

“Did you find Cole?”

Trace glanced at his father then said, “Cole… isn’t with us.”

There was a pause, and then Madsen said, “We’re sending someone to get you.”

Aldus bent over the console. “You’d better tell them to bring a tank. We’re surrounded.”

“Not a problem. Impani just came in driving an armored car from the old settlement.”

Trace’s heart did a double flip at her name. “Is she all right?”

“Yes, but her partner’s in bad shape.”

“What happened?”

“Looks like that mysterious respiratory infection got him.”

<<>>

I
mpani gazed through the hatch of a quarantine bubble. Inside, Anselmi lay on a gurney amid a mountain of portable scanning and monitoring devices. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was shallow. His usual pallor was mottled as if mold were rising up through his skin.

The uproar was intense when she brought him back to base. The colonists didn’t want an infected outsider in their midst. But Dr. Abrams took him in without hesitation. In fact, the doctor had not left his side.

As if on cue, Dr. Abrams looked up. She was fully gowned. Behind the faceplate, her eyes seemed magnified. She motioned Impani toward an intercom set in the wall.

“You should rest,” the doctor said through the speaker.

“I can’t,” Impani told her. “How is he?”

She paused then said in an undertone, “I don’t know how to help him.”

“But he looks good. I mean, he isn’t covered in plants.”

“They’re inside,” Abrams said, “entrenched with his nervous system. Occasionally, they fire off an electric impulse and make him twitch. I think they’re learning the controls.” She looked at Anselmi as if fascinated and repulsed at the same time. “My other patients must be going through this. I didn’t recognize what I was seeing.”

Impani considered the other colonists quarantined with the respiratory ailment. At any moment, they could become moss creatures themselves.

Just then, Anselmi opened his eyes. He turned his head and offered her a horrific smile. His teeth were rimmed in black, his lips cracked and bleeding. Slowly, laboriously, he gave her a thumb’s up.

<<>>

T
race glanced toward the sound of footsteps on the roof of the Lander. “Didn’t take them long.”

“Better get those sensors back up,” Aldus said.

“Transferring power.”

He heard a bang and then a hiss. Sparks flew from the panel.

Trace leaped back. “No!”

“What was that?”

“I think we blew a relay.”

The control hub went black, pitching them in darkness. At the same time, heavy pounding sounded at the hatch.

Aldus shone his flashlight toward the airlock. “They can’t get in. They can’t get in,” he whispered, as if repetition would make it true.

More footsteps crossed the roof.

“They’re going for the windows,” Trace cried, then jumped as something struck the glass. He took the light from his father and played it over the control board. “Put your hand on this toggle. When I tell you, throw the switch. Got it? We’re going to be okay, Dad.”

Holding the flashlight in his mouth, he crawled beneath the control hub and ran his hands over the access plates. One felt hot. He wrenched it open. Smoke hit him in the face. He waved his hand then peered inside. He would have to run a bypass.

Outside, the pounding grew. It reverberated from the ceiling, the walls, as if the Lander were encased in moss men, each of them hammering to get inside. Trace wanted to cover his ears. Sweat mixed with the acrid smoke, burning his eyes as he worked.

Then he heard breaking glass. Shards struck the floor.

He willed his hands to steady as he completed his repairs. Spitting out the flashlight, he yelled, “Now!”

Aldus threw the switch.

A shriek cut through the air. Dozens of voices rose as one in an ear-wrenching wail. Trace covered his head and felt his own scream tear from his throat.

Abruptly, the moss men fell silent. Trace crawled out from under the hub and stood at his father’s side. He ran his light over the windows. One had a web of cracks and a jagged hole. He expected to see a moss man struggling to crawl through the opening but no one was there.

“Did we kill them?” his father asked.

Trace walked to the sensors panel. His hands shook. The silence was as unnerving as the howls. “No.” He pointed at the screen. “They retreated like before.”

Aldus sank onto a chair. One hand clutched his chest.

“Put your mask on,” Trace told him. “We’ve got fresh air. Let me help you.”

“I can do it.”

He watched his father for a moment then pulled his own mask in place. Arms folded, he leaned against the hub and stared into darkness. He didn’t know how long he stayed that way. It was as if he’d stepped outside himself, as if time had stopped. Then his ears perked at a sound.

Aldus leaped to his feet. “They’re coming back.”

Trace looked at the sensors. He saw the creatures pull together to form a wedge, saw a larger blip move right for them. It cut a wide swathe as it barreled through and headed for the Lander.

“It’s all right.” Trace smiled. “The cavalry’s here.”

Holding the flamethrower with one arm, his father’s shoulders with the other, he walked to the airlock.

“I’m getting too old for this drel,” Aldus muttered.

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything.”

They stepped outside into the protected area formed by the sensors. Trace shaded his eyes from the headlights of a large ATV. It was so covered with moss and vines, it looked camouflaged.

The door opened, and Jane Delray, the meteorologist, stepped out onto the wide tread. With a flourish, she said, “Sirs. Your car awaits.”