Realization Page 7

  "Just like that?" JB's hoped his voice didn't betray his surprise and relief. Jansky had sat down beside him and was fixing his brown eyes on agent Fenneman.

  "Yes, sir. You're off the hook," she replied, taking a moment to reach down and give Jansky a pet on the head. The big Lab looked happy for the attention, and she allowed herself a thin smile. "For now," she added. "Although, I still don't believe your entire story, my superiors are satisfied that they have all the answers they need at the moment." She paused a moment and gave Jansky another greatly appreciated pat. As she did, the thought crossed his mind that dogs were usually a good judge of character. "May I have a look at your cell phone please?"

  He raised an eyebrow in response but said nothing as he dug it out of back pocket and handed it to her. She found the messaging app and typed in her number. "I have your number, and you have mine. If something comes up, we'll be in touch."

  They locked eyes for an uncomfortable moment before she averted hers, adding, "Later this morning the ferries will be back into operation, so you're free to go whenever you wish."

  She gave JB another half smile in response to his quizzical expression and handed him back his Driver's License. "Good luck, Mr. Tucker."

  JB watched her walk away, down the path to the gate. As she unlatched it, she turned back and said, "By the way, we had your truck towed to the impound lot. I'd get down there soon. They charge by the day."

  She got into the sedan where agent Cole was waiting behind the wheel. As soon as she got in and shut the door, they drove off. JB had mixed emotions, a part of him was sorry to see her go, but overall, he felt as though an enormous weight had been lifted from him.

  He had more than a few good reasons for avoiding the authorities… He thought about the dead trooper in Virginia. It was an event he was not directly responsible for, even though she had been killed by an alien who had impersonated her, in yet another failed attempt on his life. But now, with the FBI's unexpected, last-minute reprieve, they weren't going to pry into his recent whereabouts. Ironically, this turn of events left him more puzzled than ever. With everything that had happened, their investigations should have intensified, but instead, they had literally walked away. It made no sense. He couldn't conceive what the reasoning behind their decision was but he had other things to worry about. After all, he was still a hunted man, with a lot more at stake than a stint in federal custody.

  "Do you think this is going to work?" agent Cole asked as he headed the sedan back down the hill.

  "Wilson thinks it will, and who am I to disagree? The guy knows more than he's telling us… That's what my instinct tells me."

  "Great!" Cole replied sarcastically. "If you ask me, I say, forget the feminine intuition. We should have sweated him... Hard. A couple of punches and a prick like that would tell us everything."

  "Really? We're supposed to enforce the rules, not break them. Besides, with a little luck, he'll lead us straight to Trench and Tucker."

  Cole shook his head. "Nobody played by the rules when those agents got killed while doing their job. I don't give a shit about what it takes. I'm going to make sure that the assholes responsible get what's coming to them."

  Fenneman knew better than to respond. She hoped he'd cool down before they got back and reported to Wilson.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Recon

  "JEFFREY! JEFFREY!" MARVIN wailed from his bedroom.

  There was a loud thud as JB rushed into the old man's bedroom. He found Marvin sprawled out on the floor, still crying out for his dead son.

  JB lifted Marvin back into his bed, after making sure that the bruise forming on his forehead was the total extent of his injuries.

  "You took quite a spill, Marvin," JB said, though he doubted Marvin heard. The old man was staring blankly at the ceiling and muttering incoherently to himself. Jansky came into the room and gave JB a doleful look before lying down in his doggie bed at the old man's bedside.

  JB fetched a wooden stool from the front room and sat with Marvin long enough to satisfy himself that he was resting comfortably. Even so, the color hadn't returned to Marvin's face, and his breathing was rapid and shallow. He decided the best course of action was to let the old man rest, at least for the next couple of hours. If Marvin's condition didn't improve, or he took a turn for the worst, he would call for an ambulance then.

  As he sat there watching the old man sleep, he wondered if his arrival had anything to do with Marvin's episodes. Could the alien tech in his body be affecting the old man? Were his Sawbonites somehow responsible? He had no answers, but there was little doubt that Marvin's physical state was deteriorating. He wondered if the "episode" with the alien triangle had started it all and if his presence had acted as a catalyst, accelerating the man's decline.

  Marvin had paid a high price for his curiosity, but JB knew that the old man would have never had it any other way. The most he could do now was to make sure his friend was resting comfortably. He knew the last thing Marvin wanted was a trip to the hospital, and he hoped it wasn't going to come to that.

  The infiltrator had covered a great deal of ground since it had teleported down to the area near Abomination's last known location. It had a firm belief that its quarry was still alive, and hiding somewhere close by. Even though, according to the device it had continuously been monitoring, the Abomination had disappeared entirely. The detection range of the location device encompassed the entire hemisphere of the planet… Yet impossibly, it still showed nothing.

  The star that illuminated this world was high in the sky, and there were many more vehicles and beings in its vicinity than there had been earlier. Over the last few hours it had been afforded more opportunity to absorb more of the spoken language, and it was able to understand much of what it overheard as it milled around the business district. Other than its earlier incident with what it now realized was a breeder and her offspring, it settled into doing what it was very good at… Blending in. And, with every passing moment, it became better adapted to pursue its mission.

  The implant in its brain registered an incoming message from the rest of its team. They were growing impatient with its failure to locate their quarry. Despite being eager to begin the mission, they could do nothing except wait until they were provided with exact coordinates.

  The infiltrator had been contemplating the possibility that the Abomination's had somehow made its medical protocols stop broadcasting. It was impossible of course, but everything about the Abomination was impossible. The infiltrator thought it highly unlikely that its quarry had perished, so it was the only explanation that made sense. Regardless, it would take more time to complete its task.

  "Hey, you!" the bum yelled at the tall, swarthy man who was standing on the sidewalk, staring at his watch.

  The infiltrator looked up from his locator to the native that had addressed it and now approached it, holding out its appendage. This one stood out from the other passer-byes by virtue of its soiled garments and disheveled appearance. It said, "Got a smoke?"

  The infiltrator reacted by silently shaking its head. He had seen the gesture and knew it was a negative response. It refrained from attempting to create an expression; maintaining the physical facade was difficult enough without complicating the situation unnecessarily.

  "Well then, got any spare change?"

  The infiltrator shook its head again and turned to walk away from the unwanted encounter.

  "Hey, Buddy! I'm talking to you!" the bum yelled belligerently, grabbing at the other's arm. The infiltrator reacted instinctively, which it immediately knew was a mistake… But it was too late. The powerful blow had already damaged the native's outstretched appendage, and its bodily fluids were leaking from the wound made by a shard of broken bone that had pierced the skin.

  The man shrieked in pain, grabbing his injured arm in shock and surprise.

  "What the fuck!" he howled. "What was that for?"

  The scene was drawing attention from a growing crowd of onlooker
s who had gathered to see what had caused the commotion. A National Park Service ranger who had stopped by one of the shops on his way to patrol the beach had seen the entire interaction and radioed for paramedics as he approached the pair. The infiltrator had stood where it was, not sure of what to do next; however, when it saw the uniformed man coming towards it, it rapidly formulated a response.

  "Sorry, I am." The infiltrator said, in a harsh, raspy voice that sounded like the wind from a bellows being forced through a pipe. It pronounced each word accurately, although they were oddly disconnected.

  "He just reached down and broke my fuckin' arm!" the man wailed.

  The NPS ranger was familiar with the bum, he was a fixture on the street and knew he had previously been arrested for drunk and disorderly behavior. It was a given that as the weather grew warmer, and the tourist season began to ramp up, there would be even more transients panhandling around town. But the ranger had witnessed the unwarranted behavior of the tall man who had just spoken the strange apology. And, there was something about him that seemed "off" somehow.

  "I've called for an ambulance, sir. They'll be here in a few minutes," the ranger said, addressing the bum. He turned to the tall man who had struck the unwarranted blow. The expression on his dusky features was devoid of any emotion, and the man seemed oddly unmoved by the severity of the injury he had caused. Usually, in the ranger's experience, people in similar positions would be falling all over themselves, either apologizing or making excuses. He said, "Sir, I saw the incident, I have to ask you to remain here until a patrol car arrives. Meanwhile, I'll need to see your ID."

  The infiltrator's mind was racing; it activated the implant in its brain to let the rest of its team know that it had been compromised and implemented the standard protocol required for such an emergency. It touched the object on its wrist and teleported away.

  "What the…" the ranger exclaimed in shock as the man he intended to arrest for assault just vanished in front of his eyes.

  "Fuck all!" the bum yelled at the same time several of the bystanders who had been watching began reacting also.

  The ambulance arrived minutes later, and the bum was wheeled into it on a stretcher while the paramedics were tending to his arm. The ranger thought that the injury was severe enough to require surgery. But then his thoughts turned to consider his own problem, which was what he would put in his report.

  The crowd that had gathered with the ambulance's appearance started arguing among themselves as newcomers loudly doubted the accounts of those who had witnessed the entire incident. After the ambulance left the crowd began to disperse, and by the time the patrol car arrived from the Hyde County sheriff's department, the ranger was the only one remaining at the scene. While he wasn't sure about how he would explain what happened, he was positive it was going to be a long, long day.

  At exactly the instant the infiltrator teleported away, a significant spike interrupted the flat line displayed on the large monitor screen sitting on Marvin's workbench. As it happened, JB had come out of the old man's bedroom to visit the bathroom when he saw the momentary blip appeared and vanished. He wished Marvin was himself so he could ask him about it. He wasn't sure if Marvin had adjusted the scanner again to monitor the exterior of the house, but there was no doubt as to what he had seen.

  "Not again!" he heard Marvin moan from the other room. JB rushed back into the bedroom where Marvin was sitting upright in his bed.

  "The damn blackouts are coming closer together than they ever did before," the old man said. He was visibly agitated, but much of the color had returned to his face, though his voice was still weak.

  "Y'all don't have to worry 'bout that right now," JB said, trying to calm the old man down. It was the first time Marvin had acknowledged his episodes.

  "You don't understand," Marvin protested. "It's getting worse. The day will come when I… When I might not be coming back."

  All JB could say was, "Y'all can't be worried about what might happen. Right now y'all are okay."

  "I can't go on like this much longer, JB. I'm thinking that I don't have a lot of time left."

  JB didn't know how to respond, he took a seat on the stool again and thought about what would be best for the old man. He said, "Maybe, it's best if I take y'all down to the urgent care. Have somebody take a look at ya."

  Marvin shook his head vehemently. "Hell no. I intend to stay right here!" He settled back and looked at JB intently. He said, "Listen, I wasn't totally honest with you. Ever since that day with the triangle, I've had some issues, an' over the years they've gotten worse."

  JB nodded somberly. "I was hopin' that me bein' close by, wasn't makin' 'em happen."

  "No, JB, Having you here has given me great hope. Not for me, mind you. My fate is sealed, but I think you might be humanity's best hope to survive whatever's coming."

  JB didn't know what to say. The idea that there could be much more at stake than just his own survival was something he had only partially considered. He wanted to dismiss the thought altogether; the implications were too overwhelming. He deflected by turning his attention back to the question that he urgently needed to ask.

  The old man was still extremely pale, and his breathing was labored. But JB couldn't wait. "Right before I came in here, I saw a big jagged spike on the monitor… Was that from me?"

  "No," Marvin replied weakly. "Couldn't be. Last night, I readjusted the detector to scan the outside perimeter again since I'm almost done rigging that personal device for you. But a big spike like you're describing is something different."

  "Different? Like what?"

  "I honestly don't know," Marvin replied, his voice was soft but heavy with concern. "But help me get out of bed, will you? I've got work to do… Especially now!"

  "Hell no. Y'all need to rest," JB protested.

  Marvin waved him off and sat up. "You know what they say about that, don't you?"

  "Not really," JB said as the old man brushed him aside, swinging his spindly legs over the edge of the bed.

  "Well, neither do I! I'll get plenty of rest when I'm dead!"

  When the infiltrator returned, it had no new information. It feared a reprimand for endangering the mission with its clumsy, yet, necessary response to a native interaction gone wrong. But to its relief, no mention of that was made, and it was directed to redouble its efforts in the search. It communicated its thoughts regarding the possibilities that the Abomination had stopped its medical protocols from transmitting. And after some discussion, it was directed to deploy a signal sweep as a means of eliciting a reflection from the primitive's pilfered tech. There were a few unavoidable drawbacks to this course of action. The sweep would have to be manually triggered, and the range of the signal would be very limited. Also, the risk of outside detection would be greater, as the sweep might conceivably interfere with frequencies in general use by the planet's inhabitants. It was also unknown if the Abomination had provided for that contingency, and was able to squelch any response to the signal. But, until other means could be developed to track their quarry, it was the only option available.

  The infiltrator was equipped with the proper device and instructed in its use. It was also cautioned not to risk revealing itself again. If circumstances made it impossible to escape without attracting undue notice, it was directed to self-terminate. At this point, failure was no longer acceptable.

  The infiltrator once again adapted its physical appearance, this time assuming a female countenance hoping it would be subject to less scrutiny. It managed to materialize unnoticed behind a structure a short distance away from where the earlier mishap occurred. The device it had been given closely resembled many of the devices commonly used by the natives. It would draw no attention when it continually referred to it, as that was another common trait shared by many in this culture.

  The tall, dowdy, middle-aged woman stood by the entrance to the novelty shop near the waterfront, staring at her phone, well out of the way of the foot traffic. The few pat
rons entering and leaving the store paid her no notice. If they had looked more closely, they wouldn't have recognized the brand of phone that she was holding in her hands, nor the strange sigils displayed on its screen.

  The device sent out sweeps, but as expected, its range was relatively short and directional. The infiltrator knew that if the Abomination were anywhere within range, the medical protocols in its system would likely respond to the signal. The sweep response was something that had been designed into all medical protocols as a last resort in case of emergencies. It was anticipating that the Abomination wouldn't be aware of that particular property.

  It moved to different locations along the waterfront, directing the sweeps in all directions. The first dozen sweeps came back dry, but the infiltrator persisted, and finally, it received a weak reflection. It moved closer in the direction of the reflected signal and tried again. This time, the reflection was stronger and unmistakable. The reflexive broadcast could only have originated in the off-world tech that resided in the Abomination's body.

  Using the implant in its brain, the infiltrator forwarded the coordinates to the group responsible for the hunt, and hopefully, the kill. It had no desire to self-terminate, and decided to join the hunters near the location just to make sure nothing "screwed up". Due to its focus on self-preservation, it was unaware it had begun thinking in terms it had culled from native colloquialisms.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Encounter

  "THAT WAS STRANGE," JB said, returning to Marvin's bedroom. The old man was still getting dressed, and JB was relieved to see he was looking much better. "I felt somethin'... Jus' for a sec. An' then one more time. Can't describe it, but I know it wasn't my 'magination."

  Marvin nodded as he buttoned his overalls. "I believe you, son, but maybe you can be more specific. Are you feeling sick?"