Authors: David Brookover
The flesh-eating spell denuding Nick’s hand and arm spread to his shoulder. He wailed in pain while the Neo imposter maintained its vise grip on Nick’s skeleton hand. Somewhere beyond Nick’s physical existence and the insufferable agony of his damaged hand and arm, his alien survival genes stirred to life. Not only did they initiate the healing procedure on Nick’s blistered and ruptured flesh, but they also reversed the lethal flesh-eating energy into the imposter’s hand and arm. They exploded into scarlet flames.
The Neo look-alike hopped back and forth, clutching his destroyed limb, until the shapeshifting Shabacco morphed back into its tall, midnight purple form. By that time, Nick was already changed into his daunting, chrome-eyed alter ego. With a lightning fast twist of the wrist, he launched a sizzling white energy bolt that hit the Shabacco with such force, it shattered into thousands of meaty and bony morsels.
Nick didn’t waste time deliberating his next move or transforming back to his human persona, because a tenacious premonition strongly suggested Gabriella and his friends were in grave danger. He gave the blood shrouded vegetation a fleeting glance before teleporting from Kauai’s tropical forest to the similar topography on the north face of Riai Island’s dormant volcano. He was greeted by stifling ash and rumbling tremors.
His alter ego’s visual acuity outshined his human eyesight, so he effortlessly observed one of the flying creatures that earlier saved Noah through the soupy air. He planned to turn the tables on his aerial assailant, and when the creature was close, Nick hurled another of his new trademark white energy bolts at the flyer’s left wing. The creature stalled in midair, spiraled downward, and crashed with a muffled thud.
Nick raced through the underbrush to the injured creature’s landing spot. Its long body lay stretched out and helpless in the crushed understory, but it was not critically injured.
“Don’t kill me,” it pleaded telepathically while evaluating Nick’s menacing visage. “I sense you do not believe in human mercy. You are something wild. Untamed. Savage. Supernatural. We have not run across one such as you before.”
Nick’s chrome gaze cast its yellow light on the Lothran’s face. The tawny scorpion tails atop his head swayed menacingly. “Is that so?” Nick parried soundlessly with his mind. “So how do you know so much about me?”
“I have read your thoughts.”
“You butt ugly creatures are Lothrans, right?”
“Yes, but I am offended by the term
butt ugly
. Your appearance isn’t pleasing to my eyes, either,” it snapped indignantly.
Nick leaned closer to the Lothran’s distended lizard-dog muzzle. “So give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you right here?”
The intellectual creature recoiled at the proximity of Nick’s scorpion tails. “Because I have knowledge of your human friends’ location.”
Nick shrugged indifferently, as if its information was of no value. “You’re pretty good with the English language. Care to explain?”
“We have been on your planet long before you humans arrived from the next dimension. We have kept our distance so that none of your race ever suspected our existence. During that time, we monitored the origins of every human language since the beginning of your time.
“Unfortunately, one of the beasts the Shabaccoes captured in another galaxy and transported here escaped, and although it died, you humans discovered its preserved corpse and found out it was an alien species. Then your military people became involved and paid for it to be cloned. Properly trained, the military mistakenly believe a Slayer can be a useful weapon in battles, but the truth is, Slayers will attack their soldiers, too.”
“What military?”
“Military leaders from the United States of America crave the Shabaccoes’ technology and exotic intergalactic animals. Their appearance left us little choice but to destroy Terror Island and all its alien life forms,” the Lothran explained. “For centuries we used the island as a breeding ground for the less hostile beasts because it was isolated from humans—at least until someone chose the site for a television show.”
“Did your exotic animals kill the television people there?”
“Some did, but the United States military killed most of them. There were two television show survivors who are now prisoners inside the volcano.”
Nick knew one of them was Noah,
but who was the other survivor?
He would find out soon enough. “Are there any other alien animal populations around here?”
“No. Most of the living species are too vicious to release elsewhere, so they are kept deep beneath this island.”
“If they’re so dangerous, why keep them at all?” Nick pressed.
“I do not know.”
“How come? I thought you guys were the top dogs around here.”
The Lothran lowered his head. “We are not. An alien race known as the Shabaccoes are the top dogs, as you say. They are the ones holding the animals captive. We are allies with the Shabaccoes, but not quite their equals.”
Nick recalled the purple alien that nearly killed him on Kauai. “So basically you’re their slaves?”
The Lothran snort-sighed. “We take orders and work for no compensation. Is that slavery?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then yes, you are right. We are Shabaccoes’ slaves.”
Nick’s menacing alter ego drew back from the frightened Lothran. “You’re damaged goods. How can you help me find my friends?”
The Lothran stood unsteadily and folded both wings into slots in its umber slick-skinned back. “I can walk and run, so I can guide you to the humans, but be warned. Your friends are about to die. The magic female human has decreed it.”
A witch?
Maybe it was the mysterious
Superior
. Bad luck. Nick was about to begin his climb to the rim when an invisible energy wave engulfed the volcano, bowling over palm trees, uprooting underbrush, and slamming Nick and the Lothran to the uneven ground.
“What the hell was that?” Nick’s alter ego demanded as he lay there waiting for the second wave that never came.
The Lothran’s lips retracted as it scanned the volcano, exposing its sharp brown teeth. “The Shabaccoes have sensed your presence. They are using their mighty abilities to defend their home.”
Nick climbed to his feet and painfully brushed the leaves and black grit from his clothes. “I don’t have time for this shit. You said my friends’ lives are at risk, so we’ve got to teleport into the volcano
right now
!”
The still prone Lothran reached up and grabbed Nick’s wrist. “No!”
Nick easily tugged his wrist from the Lothran’s sturdy grip. “No? Why not?”
“Because the Shabacco force field will scramble our body molecules during teleportation, and we will end up being genetic stews when we materialize.”
Nick snarled fiercely and flexed his rippling muscles, tearing out more of his shirt seams. “Then what do you suggest?” he bristled.
“Hike to the top and drop down inside the volcano?” it suggested.
Nick yanked his companion to its talon-like feet. “Okay. Let’s get a move on, Lothran. I’m looking for a happy ending in there.”
Two surges of well-armed soldiers wearing night vision goggles rushed through the blinding ash toward Nick and the Lothran, springing a typical military trap. But without his ability to teleport to safety, Nick had no idea how to escape their deadly charge.
Gabriella looked out the cage bars in awe at a breathtaking view of a vast subterranean chamber. The extraterrestrial metropolis fifty below them bore a resemblance to a quaint New England town clustered in an opulent green valley. She couldn’t believe her eyes. The mountain ledge where she and E.V.A.N. settled after she teleported them out of the cavern was akin to dropping in on a shimmering
Star Trek
set for a television episode.
The forty silvery reflective buildings were all seven stories high and looked like they were constructed of polished silver. A Saturn-like ring hovered above the buildings and was supported by six copper-colored pillars. The myriad of tinted windows staring back at her like hundreds of glowering ebony eyes gave her the willies. A narrow web of gleaming black walkways divided the odd structures and was curiously devoid of trees and streetlights … and walkers.
An enormous glass dome one hundred feet in diameter was the center piece of the strange village.
Did the dome shield their City Hall?
The entire municipality was no larger than a typical, sprawling suburban condominium development with a central clubhouse. She did a double take.
There was a fastidiously maintained park on the outskirts of town.
In the center of the five acre tract of tropical shrubbery and colorful flowers were thirty immense concrete-like edifices with built-in metallic grids and barred doors at least twenty feet high. She was too distant from the structure to see if there were life forms in those mammoth cages, but from their familiar architecture, Gabriella theorized the series of buildings might well be an alien zoo.
Gabriella scanned the verdant park again and wondered what the three large outbuildings across from the barred structures contained. If she were a zookeeper, those edifices would accommodate interior displays of reptiles, aquatic creatures, and birds. The notion that a zoo existed in the South Pacific seemed farfetched, but yet there it was bigger than life.
What kind of animals would the aliens have on display?
The possibilities intrigued her.
Gabriella blinked against the chamber’s brilliance.
Where was the intense light coming from?
A quick glance at the ceiling revealed a massive flame burning inside a protective glass cupola. A myriad of questions about its fuel source, controllability, and many others assailed her curiosity, but she blew them off. She had enough unknowns on her plate without adding more.
She couldn’t help but marvel at how similar this alien village was to the late twentieth century Hollywood vision of an alien civilization.
Did one of the writers or directors get a peek at this alien village and faithfully applied those images to the movie and television settings?
She would never find any answers by staying in the cage. She had to escape.
But escaping was a tall order since she didn’t know what kind of spell the sorceress used to place her inside the cage. Once she determined that, she and the Slayer would be freed. Depression settled over her thoughts in a heavy malaise.
How could she ever find the single spell she needed out of the thousands of possibilities?
If her family’s magic was as formidable as her father claimed long ago, then perhaps she
could
free herself. Her malaise thinned but remained. That was one big
if
.
Gabriella circumvented the Slayer’s rear end and sought a portion of the cage that wasn’t so cramped. She attempted pacing in the small area the size of a doormat but found it more distracting then motivating. It wasn’t every day that she shared a prison with a ridiculous looking animal with its six red globular eyes, outlandish rainbow snout, massive maw, and floppy bloodhound ears. Although the Slayer didn’t intimidate her, she still felt like the vulnerable mouse to its indomitable cat. She nearly laughed at its appearance again, but she didn’t want to disturb it.
The otherworldly brute behavior was so docile now that it hardly moved except to breathe or twitch an ear.
What tempered its aggressive behavior? Would it transform back to its savage self and devour her if she made a wrong move?
That prospect raised a few goosebumps on her arms.
Gabriella switched gears and threw her full concentration into locating a counter spell so they could break out. Frustration crept into the task, but she did her best to disregard it. Negativity would shatter her focus if she let it seize control of her mind.
Suddenly, her eyes widened and her lips parted in a mid-scream—a mime scream. She found the spell!
At least she fervently hoped it was the right one.
The Slayer shuffled its four feet and repositioned its tremendous weight, reducing her doormat space by half. She hugged the metal bars and focused on the counter spell, not her impending death if her odd looking cagemate shifted its weight in her direction one more time.
She had to hurry.
Haste makes waste.
Gabriella recalled her father preaching that ominous phrase to her as a young girl. That was her father’s reaction whenever she rushed her spellcasting lessons so she could play with her Duneden friends. And to her dismay, he proved prophetic. Her hurried spells failed, forcing her to sacrifice more play time to correctly execute them.
She gulped. E.V.A.N. appeared restless again, but she couldn’t see a reason. Gabriella knew there wouldn’t be time for a second whack at the spell. Either she succeeded the first time or died. No gray areas. No do-overs.
The zoo sidetracked her concentration, and her muscles tensed. She did a double take.
Was she seeing clearly, or was her imagination playing tricks on her?
The door to one of the barred enclosures sure appeared open.
Could that be the reason the sidewalks were vacant?
There was a vicious animal on the loose? Or was that space simply reserved for E.V.A.N.?
If that was the case, the Slayer might kill her whether she was inside
or
outside the cage.
The Slayer slid its massive flank toward her again, erasing more of her space. Her corner was now reduced to the size of a table mat.
Gabriella rallied her concentration on the counter spell.
Would it work?
The Slayer twitched its ear, shook its gigantic head, grunted, and groggily eclipsed the rest of her space.
A hulking giant climbed over the volcano’s rim like a small child stepping over a row of alphabet blocks. It lumbered down the treacherous slope with plangent, quaking footfalls. Immersed in the black fog, neither the soldiers nor Nick and his Lothran companion were able to determine the cause of the thunderous tremors. The military urged his men forward, claiming the tremors came from Terror Island. That was a fatal miscalculation.
Nick and the Lothran raced through the muddled platoons of soldiers, unaware they were climbing directly into the towering monster’s path. The higher up the volcano they ran, the more Earth-shattering the tremors. Nick’s sixth sense forced him and the Lothran to halt mere yards from the descending giant’s next step.
“We’re screwed,” the Lothran lamented as he saw another platoon of soldiers approaching from the right.
“Not on my watch!” Nick exclaimed. He focused his chromed eyes on the path ahead, and suddenly a torrent of green-blue supernatural flame unlike any fire known to man surged forward, cutting a swath through the soldiers and giant alike. Nick and the Lothran sprinted for all they were worth up the fiery pathway, through a squad of jitterbugging, burning soldiers, and between the extraterrestrial colossus’ gigantic feet. All eight of them.
Nick stole a fleeting look at another inimical freak of the universe. It was King Kong big but traveled on eight two-toed bulldozer-sized feet that indented the volcano’s glassy, lava rock surface. The legs were as thick as Californian Sequoia trees and ponderously propelled the seventy foot long hairy body down the slope. The head resembled the Boeing 747’s conical nose with one exception: it was flanked by a pair of the largest ivory tusks Nick had ever seen. They would put an elephant to shame. The leviathan’s lighthouse orbs, alligator snout, and wicked white teeth the size of modest office buildings put a scare into Nick’s daunting alter ego.
Nick had to hand it to the big brute—its flaming eight feet could dance with the best of them. While Nick and the Lothran were zigzagging their way past the monster, its name spontaneously entered his mind.
Quirinus.
For some reason, the name rang a bell.
Quirinus.
Then the name’s description struck his supercharged mind like lightning. Quirinus was ancient Sabine for
wielder of the spear
. The only trouble was, he didn’t see a spear anywhere on the brute’s body. And with those inflexible tree trunks for legs,
how could the monster even hurl one?
The name was obviously a misnomer.
A small grin creased the alter ego’s stiff leathery lips. The creature’s Sabine name suggested that early man was familiar with some of the alien monsters, which put a crimp in modern man’s opinion that the ancients imagined their mythological monster. That was a scary thought.
The Lothran grabbed Nick’s forearm and yelled, “Hurry before the Quirinus gets a fix on us and impales us with one of its giant spears!”
“I don’t see a…” Nick began but was rudely interrupted when the Lothran tugged him sharply left. They both executed awkward tightrope balancing acts to keep from falling sideways into the path of a ground-piercing spear that exploded inches from their struggling forms. Bits of volcanic glass and rock pummeled them and should have opened numerous bloody lacerations on Nick’s body, but his scaly reptilian armor protected him. Unfortunately, the Lothran wasn’t as fortunate. It was peppered with small cuts.
Nick stepped back from the huge white spear and saw that it was one of the Quirinus’ tusks. Up close, the ivory spear was as long as a utility pole with a sharp, tapered end. Nick pivoted toward the beast and saw that it still had one tusk left. The colossus slowly rotated its unwieldy body and trained those huge headlight eyes on them. It lined up its other tusk with its targets.
If at first you don’t succeed . . .
Nick’s amplified intelligence reacted swiftly and initiated a fiery countermeasure. With supreme concentration, the alter ego instructed his chrome eyes to hurl a blistering green-blue firestorm at the Quirinus’ enormous skull and tusk. The firestorm engulfed it, and the monster wailed loudly as it rammed its burning skull against the volcanic rock in an effort to quell the horrific fire. Nick had seen enough. He pulled the Lothran off the ground while the Quirinus
was distracted, and together they made a mad dash up the short distance to the rim. The prospect of rescuing his friends quickened Nick’s pace to a supernatural blur.
Once they reached the top, Nick looked down at the smoldering corpses. The Quirinus lay on its side, a charred skeleton, and the soldiers and their leader were crispy critters. He shoved the Lothran ahead. It was time to find his friends, but as they descended, Nick’s daylight sight saw there was nothing to see but black rock.
Then without warning, the pair was teleported to a silent realm of absolute darkness and devoid of matter. No rock. No volcano. No solid objects of any kind.
Nick growled at this bewildering turn of events.
Who sent them there? And where the hell was there?
Alien Hell?