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A Lost Soul
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“Any sign of Dan yet?” snapped Grace, tugging hard on another cigarette; Jane just raised her eyebrows.
“How long until the chamber is ready?”
“About three minutes now,” replied one of the technicians.
“And you’ve set the beacon for five minutes?” she asked anxiously, turning to Jane.
“Yes, Grace, but do you think it will give them enough time to get back for the transition?” she asked wearily. “They could be off anywhere —”
“They’ll be back,” said Grace through gritted teeth. She sat upon the edge of the desk, overlooking the array tower, which disappeared down into the depths far below. The observation window of the control room gave a spectacular view of the array, but at this moment Grace stared blankly into space. Her cigarette stub burned down to her fingers and she let out a yell, cursing as she shook her hand. She dipped her burnt finger into a cup of cold coffee.
“Thirty seconds until the array is online,” called out Jane.
“As soon as it’s ready, send the beacon,” whispered Grace.
A row of green lights lit up along the monitor panels, and the deafening noise changed tone as the array began to power down.
Grace bit into her fingernails. The transmitter would be in the Field now, and the team would be safely back in five minutes.
image [https://www.ighulme.com/images/chapters/ch-005-02.jpg]
* * *
Saul stared down at Pattie’s body in despair.
“Oh, Pattie, what were you doing?” he sobbed. Her motionless cadaver looked as though it had been formed over a period of a thousand years. He reached forward to try and lower her visor.
“Careful!” snapped Starling. “I saw something moving in her — in her suit,” he said bleakly.
“Let’s get her back to base camp,” said Davisson wearily. “Nicks, give me a hand.”
Nicks, visibly shaken, staggered forward, and gingerly picked up her limp body in the sample claws. Out of the entire team he had probably been the closest to Pattie.
A strong wind was getting up, as they made their slow progress back to the camp. A fine, red dust was in the air, making everything hazy. They gazed in horror about them as they walked. The once lush grass was nearly all blackened stumps on red rock as far as the eye could see, and the black clouds were looming ever closer.
As they reached the outer limits of the camp, a keening alarm blasted into their earpieces.
“It’s the emergency evacuation signal!” gasped Davisson.
“But how could they know?” shouted Starling, over the ever-increasing wind. The two looked at each other anxiously.
“Back to the beacon as quick as we can!” yelled Davisson.
The clouds now towered above them, the dust billowing ever closer across the plain.
* * *
Keith Groves, the gawky junior systems analyst knocked gingerly on the door of the cubicle.
“Dan, er, is Dan Earl in there?” he stuttered.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“No, he bloody well isn’t! Can’t anyone get a moment’s peace around here?” came a disgruntled voice.
“Oh, sorry,” said Keith. “You haven’t seen him at all have you?”
“Bog off,” came the reply.
Keith made his way back to Control, walking with his familiar, awkward gait. On his way he bumped into one of the array engineers, whom he vaguely knew.
“Oh, hi, you haven’t seen Dan Earl about have you? He’s one of the control technicians — we seem to have lost him,” he said.
“Big lanky guy, red hair and freckles?” asked the engineer.
“That’s the one. Have you seen him?” he asked.
“Yeah, just passed him down in the sub-system array. Not often your sort visit us down there — get your nice white coats all dirty,” he laughed.
“Sub-systems? You sure?” exclaimed Keith.
“About five minutes ago. Don’t know if he’ll still be down there though,” grunted the man.
“Oh, bloody hell, it’s miles,” moaned Keith, and set off down the corridor at a trot.
* * *
“Set Pattie down by the beacon, Nicks,” shouted Davisson. Nicks laid the limp body inside the rough circle of white rocks they used to mark out what they referred to as the entry-point. It corresponded roughly in scale to the array chamber, and acted as the entrance in and out of the Field. A small transmitter flashed away in the centre of the circle. It had just been sent through by Control to alert the team that a return journey was imminent.
“How long till egress?” called Davisson.
Starling ran over to the transmitter and picked it up. It was roughly the size of a large flashlight. He studied the counter for a second.
“Three minutes and counting,” he gasped, steadying himself in the gusting wind.
Davisson eyed the storm, which was growing ever closer.
“Nicks, O’Keefe, grab the atmos-testing gear and get it inside the entry-point. Starling, salvage whatever you can.”
They all headed off around the base camp frantically grabbing things of most importance.
“Starling. Keep calling out that counter!” Davisson shouted. He rooted amongst a large crate, whilst keeping a tight hold on the small bag containing Pattie’s drawings.
“Two minutes fifteen!” shouted Starling, frantically gathering up some rock samples from a small table.
“Nicks! Talk to me!” yelled Davisson.
“We’re on our way back now,” he shouted, carrying the large apparatus in the sample claws.
“Two minutes!” cried Starling.
“Okay, back to the entry-point now!” Davisson stood up from where he had been rummaging around in a crate, and turned in the direction of the entry-point. “Oh shit!” he managed, before the dust cloud hit him, knocking him to the ground.
Clouds of red sand billowed about him, as he fought his way back to his feet again.
“Get back to the entry-point! Quickly!” he yelled, and staggered forward against the wind.
He could just make out the circle of stones nearby, and he joined up with Starling as they stumbled through the storm.
“One minute!” he heard him yell.
They would make it, thought Davisson.
He saw Nicks and O’Keefe struggling towards the circle.
A dark shadow flashed over Davisson’s head, and a sudden blast of wind from behind knocked him to the ground.
A bestial scream cut through the storm. It contained such horror and ferocity that Davisson squeezed his eyes shut and held his gloved hands up over his helmet. He was gripped by some primordial terror, the likes of which he had never experienced before in his life.
“Saul,” hissed Starling in a terrified voice, but Davisson couldn’t open his eyes or speak. That cry had struck something inside of him — some ancient resonance, which paralysed him with fear.
“SAUL!” implored Starling again, shaking his arm.
With all his effort, Davisson opened his eyes.
A shadowy figure stood in their crude circle of stones, surveying the equipment and boxes around it. It glanced at Nicks and O’Keefe where they lay on the other side of the circle, and then turned away, seemingly unconcerned by their presence; it was more interested in their equipment.
Davisson found it was all he could do to stop himself crying out in terror.
The figure was only fifteen feet away, but through the dust storm it was difficult to make out fully. But whatever it was, thought Davisson, it wasn’t human.
It was humanoid in shape, but must have been at least ten feet tall. Its form seemed to shift, like the dust cloud, but it appeared to have two dark wings spreading out from its back. He thought he could make out two curling horns on either side of its head. Beneath the howl of the storm, he made out O’Keefe sobbing to himself:
“Sweet Jesus, it’s the Devil, it’s the Devil.”
“Saul,” hissed Starling again, still petrified. “There’s only thirty seconds before the entry-point opens. If that thing is still in the circle, it could end up back in the chamber!”
The creature cocked its head at the sound of Starling’s voice.
They froze.
The creature turned and surveyed the two men cowering on the floor. Davisson’s body shook uncontrollably, as those malevolent eyes stared straight into him. He felt his heart stop for a moment, then the creature turned back to rummaging through the crates.
“Fifteen seconds,” hissed Starling.
Just shut up! thought Davisson to himself, shut up!
The creature stopped again, eyeing the two men. Davisson was unable to do anything except look back in terror.
The creature seemed to suddenly reach a decision, and turned to where Pattie’s body lay. It bent low towards her corpse, sniffing suspiciously. A puzzled expression appeared upon its bestial features; then in one swift movement a claw flashed down the length of her suit. The tough fabric parted like tissue paper, and a gaping, bloodless wound was left across her body.
The creature straightened up in surprise, as though the body was not what it had expected.
It let out a howl of rage which rang in Davisson’s ears, and he looked on aghast as the creature spun around, regarding him with malice. In a movement almost too fast for Davisson to see, the creature had cleared the circle, and was towering over him.
Davisson rolled into a sitting position and desperately shuffled backwards.
The creature took a step forwards and the ground shook.
Davisson shut his eyes and waited for the end.
image [https://www.ighulme.com/images/chapters/ch-005-01.jpg]