“Eddie!” he cried in horror as he noticed by the dim streetlighting the half-eaten bodies bobbing inside the gelatinous ooze. Could it have gotten Eddie?
But then Anthony realized that the thing wasn’t disappearing. It was flowing down a manhole, into the sewers. It was still chasing Eddie and Meg and Kevin.
They might be still alive!
“Help!” he cried, turning and running back out of the alley. “Somebody help!”
He had to tell everybody where that monster went!
They had to save Eddie!
18
It didn’t take long for Brian Flagg to find his motorbike again, and it didn’t take long to fix it, with the help of Moss’s ratchet.
Now came the tricky part.
Getting
Like, there were soldiers swarming all over!
Brian didn’t dare get on his bike and start it. The thing was too loud, and this close to all this military activity he’d be a goner—they’d hear him for sure, run out in their high-tech gadgets and grab him up, just like that.
So he was walking his bike now, through the undergrowth, trying to figure out the best way to sneak around the encampment to the road.
Yikes!
He ducked down behind a clump of bushes as two of the plastic suits, carrying M16’s, marched by. Boy, and they had reinforcements too! One of the soldiers had a German shepherd at the end of the leash. The dog’s nose was on the ground, sniffing away.
One of the soldiers had a walkie-talkie. The sound of cross-chatter drifted over to Brian’s ears from the device.
“We got the town sealed tight as a drum,” said the voice from the walkie-talkie. “Roads closed. Phone lines severed. Civilian radio frequencies jammed. Over.”
The soldier turned and disappeared over a rise, the light from their flashlights bouncing ahead of them.
This was the way, wasn’t it? thought Brian, getting back up and pushing his bike ahead of him. The one-lane road was just up ahead. If he could get there, he’d be home free.
Of course, the best route was right past the area where that meteor had fallen. It was just as chancy as the alternatives, so Brian Flagg decided to try for it.
Sure enough, there was the crash site, with all the vehicles and lights and equipment and stuff huddled around it. Brian skirted the periphery, the wheels of the bike rolling along beside him among the trees. The familiar burnt smell of the place wafted to him, along with the murmur of voices…
And the whirring of machinery.
Just ahead, past a break in the trees, the moonlight washed across that narrow country road he’d been looking for, the one heading
Yes, sir, he thought, smiling. Freedom just ahead!
But then he stopped. The machinery sound had stepped up in volume. And there was a whining sound. Brian knew that sound. It was the sound of a winch!
Those dudes were hauling something up! The meteor? But how could they get a grip on a piece of rock?
Intrigued, Brian carefully set his bike down and went over to check this out. One little peep wouldn’t do any harm.
He crawled up through some underbrush toward the top of the rise. Looking down, he had a good view of the crash site and the crater.
Holy moley, they had a crane there, all right, and he could hear the whining of the winch even better from here as it pulled something up out of the hole. Soldiers were clustered all around, yeah… And wait… there was that old dude, Dr. Trimble, watching, alongside Colonel Hargis and another guy.
“Gently, now. Gently!” Trimble was saying.
The thing at the end of the crane was being lifted up out of the hole, and Brian could see it very clearly. It was a charred and battered orb, but its smooth metallic surface gleamed in the moonlight.
Brian Flagg took in a breath.
Jeez! That was no meteor.
That was a satellite!
A man-made, shot-up-in-the-sky-on-the-nose-of-a-rocket satellite!
The crane arm swung the demolished satellite away from the crater into the flatbed back of the truck waiting to transport it away.
Dr. Bruno Trimble watched the operation, cautioning the technicians to be careful. They were going to need everything here for their work, and they couldn’t afford to leave any bits and pieces out in the countryside for someone to stumble across.
No, there was too much at stake.
“Incredible. Just incredible,” said Dr. Jainway, a younger scientist.
“Yes, isn’t it,” said Trimble. “We’ve known for years that conditions in space have a mutating effect on bacteria.”
Dr. Jainway nodded. “But who could have guessed this?”
Dr. Trimble smiled to himself. It was happening! His dream! He would prove once and for all that he’d been right all along! For years his colleagues had merely humored him and his theories. But now, through this accident, there would be no way they could patronize him. His name, in boldface, would go down in science history books, for all the ages!
“Who indeed?” he said. “Our little experimental virus seems to have grown up. Grown up into a plasmic life- form that hunts its prey. A predator, for God’s sake! It’s fantastic!”
What he didn’t mention was that what he’d accomplished was nothing less than a recreation of what had happened billions and billions of years ago in the seas of Earth. A bubbling broth of amino acids had mutated into life-forms. Life-forms that fed on one another to survive, life-forms that reproduced rapidly, forming colonies of cells which were the first living animals…
He’d always thought that cosmic rays from space had had a great deal to do with that mutation, but he’d no idea how extremely right he’d been. Putting that recreation of life’s building blocks in a satellite, that chemical soup in a controlled environment, and then shooting it up past the shielding ozone layer… a brilliant move, one that had taken years to engineer!
And now it had worked.
But Dr. Jainway, a rather muddled sort, seemed slightly upset by this. “Sir,” he was saying, “the organism’s growing at a geometric rate. By all accounts it’s now a thousand times its original mass.”
Colonel Hargis wasn’t concerned about the creation of life. He had other fish to fry. “Gentlemen, this could put the U.S. defense system years ahead of the Russians.”
What a petty mind, thought Trimble. Of course, those dollars the U.S. defense system had contributed weren’t petty, and Trimble had taken them gladly.
“You don’t understand,” said Jainway, clearly quite troubled. “At this rate there may be no U.S.!”
“Nonsense,” said Trimble. “All we have to do is to contain it properly.” He turned to Colonel Hargis. “This is an incredible breakthrough, and I want it treated as a matter of top national security.”
“Yes, sir,” said Colonel Hargis. “We’ve got this town locked up tight.”
A radioman suddenly rushed up clutching a field radio.
“Colonel,” he said, “we have a sighting.”
Colonel Hargis grabbed the phone and barked into the receiver. “Hargis here.”
A soldier’s voice erupted loudly from the radiophone. In the background was the sound of a hysterically
