The Blob

She nodded and proceeded to tell the story, starting with that glistening glob on the hand of the Can Man. The scientist stayed stock-still as he listened to how the thing had grown, how it had attacked and eaten Paul, how no one would believe what Meg had seen.

And then Brian took over. He told of the huge thing in the Tick Tock Diner and how it had pulled George Ruiz into the sink, and how it had moved like a son of a bitch, almost getting them.

“It’s the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen,” said Brian. “It’s like Dr. Frankenstein dumped all the spittoons in the world into one smelly glob, and then stuck the electrodes in!”

Dr. Trimble nodded.

“Hmm. Most curious,” he said.

“We’re telling you how people have been horribly dissolved by that thing,” said Meg, “and all you can say is ‘Most curious’?”

“Forgive my emotional detachment, but it comes with the job. Biologically speaking, you must understand, I deal with much death, in many horrible ways. Cancer, disease of various sorts… AIDS, what have you. I know them all too well. But this”—he stuck a finger in the air—“this is something quite different, it would seem. All those are diseases that strike from within. This giant amoeboid seems to strike from without! And as it absorbs its victims, so its mass and cellular content expand. But the question is, my friends: Is it single celled… or multicelled? Its rate of growth suggests single celled, and yet it is like nothing that exists in nature. By the way, did you notice the presence of a nucleus?”

“He means, like the brain,” said Meg.

“All I saw floating in that thing were pieces of bodies!” said Brian.

“How about flagella?”

“Huh?”

“Like, long antennae,” said Meg. “You mean, like in paramecia?”

“Aha! The young lady has taken biology. Excellent. Perhaps I should direct my question to you.”

“No, no antennae, sir, nothing like a paramecium. But come to think of it, it was kinda like the things we looked at under microscopes… Only, it doesn’t seem to have any skin!”

“A giant amoeba without a membrane—well, that is something. That’s not to say it’s an amoeba, but I think that we can assume that it’s single celled. The DNA structure must be very simple yet terribly elegant to promote an eating machine of this magnitude!”

“You believe us!” said Meg, just beginning to comprehend that they were being taken seriously.

“Yes, my dear. I believe you. Everything you have said confirms the existence of this thing, this horrid yet fascinating blob… And yet there may be even more to it than we know.”

As they were talking, more equipment and vehicles had arrived. Brian turned around, noticing for the first time that a windowless van had pulled up behind them.

“I can’t begin to thank you both,” Dr. Trimble was saying. “This information is incredibly valuable.” He went to the van and opened a back door. “Please, get in.”

“Where are we going?” asked Meg.

“Back to town,” said Dr. Trimble. “Morgan City is under quarantine until we’ve isolated that organism and checked every living soul for signs of infection. As I mentioned before, we are a containment unit. We don’t want any disease to spread.”

But Brian didn’t like the sound of this. He stayed put. “In the meantime we’re your prisoners.”

“Nonsense,” said Dr. Trimble. “You’re my patients.”

“Sounds like the same thing to me.”

“Brian,” said Meg, already getting in.

“Young man,” said the scientist, getting stern, “I’m far too busy to debate the point with you. Now, please step into the van.”

Meg stepped back down and grabbed Brian by the arm. But Brian instead backed away toward the woods, dragging Meg along with him. “Look, thanks for the offer, Doc, but my bike’s right over there and we can make it back on our own.” He waved good-bye with his free hand. “By the way, love your tailor. Gotta get me one of those.”

He turned around and ran smack into the broad-shouldered Colonel Hargis, accompanied by two other husky white-suited soldiers gripping M16’s. Tall too. They loomed over Brian Flagg like twin sentinels.

“Get in the van,” rumbled Colonel Hargis, in a voice like God’s.

Brian recognized the tone immediately, and knew that this was no time for rebellion. “Oh! Right! Van ride sounds nice!”

He and Meg clambered in, and the door immediately slammed shut behind them. Brian could hear the colonel bellowing outside. “Get these civilians to the relief station, ASAP!”

“Yes, sir!” came the response.

Brian sat down on one of the benches in the windowless compartment. A dim light shone near the cab of the van.

A few moments later the engine started and the van jumped and rumbled toward its destination. Brian stared at the door a moment, then smiled over to Meg. He got up and tried it.

“It’s locked,” he reported to his companion.

“So what?” She was sitting, clearly tired, on her bench, as though relieved to be there. “Brian, what’s with you? You’re acting like a complete jerk.”

“I have problems with authority figures.”

He checked his back pocket. Sure enough, Moss’s ratchet was still there. He supposed he had a good enough excuse for not getting it back on time. He pulled the tool out and started working on the lock.

“What are you doing?” Meg demanded.

“I think we should get out of here,” he said.

“What?”

“We ought to get my bike and blow this town. Things are getting a little thick.”

“Brian, that’s crazy! These people are here to help us!”

“Come on, Meg. We don’t even know who they are! NASA? CIA? The Royal Canadian Mounties? All I saw was a bunch of unmarked trucks. The whole thing stinks.”

“We can’t just run out!”

“Let’s think of it as looking out for our best interests.”

The lock clicked free. Brian pushed on the door. It opened. He turned to Meg. “You coming?”

She wore a look of resolve on her face. “I have to go back, Brian. My family’s there. People I care about.”

“Well, I’m going. If you’re smart, you’ll come with me.”

She looked at him crossly, speaking bitterly. “Then go, take care of yourself. It’s the only thing you’re really good at, isn’t it?”

That hurt worse that he’d have expected it to.

“Nobody else ever volunteered for the job,” he murmured, turning and checking outside. He didn’t want to get run over by a truck cruising along behind. But there was no truck, and the ground that was trundling by wasn’t passing too fast. A good jump would be a cinch.

Then it got even better. The van slowed for a turn, and Brian jumped, without even turning to say good-bye to Meg. He hit the ground, tucked himself into a ball, and rolled into the roadside brush. The world whizzed around him for a time, then stilled. He picked himself up and he brushed himself off.

The van bumped along toward Morgan City. Meg Penny had already closed the door.

Brian watched for a moment.

“Christ, Flagg,” he muttered in disgust. “A cheerleader.”

Then he turned and started walking back to Elkins Grove, where all this had started, and where his bike waited.

17