Dulce Base (The Dulce Files Book 1) (22 page)
Read Dulce Base (The Dulce Files Book 1) Online
Authors: Greg Strandberg
“Nothing happened,” Billy said.
“Maybe it needs a minute,” Stu said.
“Or it could just be that–”
FFF…FFF…ZZZZ – ZAP!
Billy’s words were cut off by the sound, and what came next. It was like some force had descended upon them, one that had their fingers tingling and their hair standing on end. The closest any of them could compare it to was an electromagnetic pulse, and that’s about what this looked like. There was a thrum of some sort, one that built from the bottom of the base and then shot outward, like a sonic boom that couldn’t be heard or seen, only felt. It created a short, sharp light, blinding in intensity but just for a moment. Then there was nothing.
“I don’t think–”
BOOM!
Like ten sonic booms, the force of the blast made everyone involuntarily put their hands to their ears, even Mark flying the X-22. Below, Dulce Base seemed to lift up off the ground for the briefest of moments, although every man there knew something like that just wasn’t physically possible. But then there were a lot of things in Dulce that weren’t supposed to be physically possible.
The base never moved but all life inside of it did, to wherever it is that life from other parts of the universe, life engineered in labs, and life from the darkest recesses of our minds is ever capable of going. In a split-second every particle of every living cell in Dulce was atomized, ripped apart, and decimated.
“Hot damn!” Billy shouted.
Ahead in the cockpit, Mark smiled. Dulce was no more, and he was just meeting up with another helicopter, one flown by his father. The terror was over.
Epilogue – Turning Back
Dulce Tunnels (Level 5)
Thursday, May 24, 1979
Turn ran, his breathing frantic not because of his pace – he could run on his cybernetic legs for hours and not get tired like that – but because of that look on Aaron’s face. He’d known what he’d done, he’d known and he’d been planning it.
What is going
on
?
Turn kept thinking as he ran further into the base.
What mission within a mission have I run into?
He finally slowed, he didn’t know where, somewhere on the edge of Level 5. It dawned on him that he hadn’t seen a single Gray, nor a single Reptilian. There wasn’t a single captive about either. It was quiet, too–
“Psst!”
Turn spun around and saw a wild-eyed man, his red, curly hair a stark contrast to those shining white teeth staring back at him. He was still several yards away, and hesitant, as if he’d just startled a wild animal and wasn’t sure if he should try to be nice or try to run.
“Who the hell are you!” Turn nearly shouted, spooked more than he cared to let on.
“My name’s Paul Benowitz, Turn, and you need to come with me – you need to come with me now, if you want to live.”
Turn looked, narrowed his eyes.
“Man, I don’t know who the hell you are! Why would you think I’d come with you?”
“Because you don’t have much choice,” a familiar voice came from behind, and Turn wheeled around to see Walter coming up.
“In about five minutes Stu’s gonna trigger his device, blowing this base right to hell…or at least any life in it.” Walter’s eyes were locked right on Turn as he said the words, and he walked steadily forward. Not once did he even glance at this new man…Benowitz.”
“Aaron,” Turn said, “Aaron–”
“Betrayed you, I know.”
Turn’s eyes narrowed again. “You know, how could you–”
“Turn – we don’t have time!” Walter said, grabbing him forcefully by the arm as he started to walk forward, Benowitz doing the same.
“I’m not going!” Turn shouted, and easily slipped out of the grip.
“Fine,” Walter said, and turned around to walk back into the tunnel from which he’d came, Benowitz right at his side.
Turn watched them go and it suddenly hit him, the truth, and so hard that his eyes began to water. Ahead Benowitz seemed to sense this – there was no way he could see from that far away…
was there?
– and he raised his arm up and gave a flicking motion with his hand, one that said ‘c’mon!’
Turn turned back and looked in the direction where he’d last seen Mark and the rest of the men of CAT-3…and Aaron, and Johnny…he looked back where they had gone, then back at Benowitz, standing there and waving him on, a smile on his face, and Walter still walking on, though glancing back over his shoulder now. The bastards knew something, knew some secret that no one else did, or if they did, were too afraid to admit, even to themselves.
What was it?
Turn wondered,
and what…
“Turn…Turn – c’mon!” a shout came from further up ahead, through the tunnel and where his companions had gone. It was Aaron, Turn could tell.
Turn looked back, gritted his teeth, then dashed forward. He ran toward…Paul Benowitz, and the deepest recesses of Dulce, its darkest secrets yet…and maybe, just maybe, a little of whatever truth the secret underground alien base still held.
To Be Continued…
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About the Author
Greg Strandberg was born and raised in Helena, Montana, and graduated from the University of Montana in 2008 with a BA in History. He lived and worked in China following the collapse of the American economy. After five years he moved back to Montana where he now lives with his wife and young son. He’s written more than 50 books.
Connect with Greg Strandberg
My website on writing and Montana:
http://www.bigskywords.com
My website for teachers in China:
http://www.esladventure.com
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Other eBooks by Greg Strandberg
Fiction
The Jongurian Mission
Trouble in Jonguria
The Jongurian Resolution
The Warring States
The State of Chu
The State of Qin
Tarot Card Killer
Black Walnut
Room 223
The Hirelings
Wake Up, Detroit
Ale Quest
Nine Amusing Tales
G.I. JOE: The Dreadnoks
G.I. JOE: JOE Team-13
G.I. JOE: After Infinity
G.I. JOE: To Its Knees
Florida Sinkholes
Bring Back Our Girls
Lightning
Fire
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Write Now! 20 Simple Strategies for Successful Writing
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Tarot: The Mystery and the Mystique
Write to the Top: A How To For Website Content Writing and Increasing Website Traffic
English Last: True Accounts of Teaching in China
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Priests and Prospectors: A History of Montana, Volume Two
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How to Write: Tons of Tips, Tactics and Tirades on Writing
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