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Dark Iteration-chapter 4
By solidshoe
Dark Iteration
4: Spa
Briceton Roads, fifty-eight and who weighed all of 90 pounds, was pushed from behind. The
terrible, static-ridden voices urged him on, their low frequency sounds grating on his nerves. They’d found
him stuffed in a locker, where he might have gone on hiding throughout the entire incident. Things had
suddenly changed when the static-radio quality voices had exclaimed ‘you have to the count of three to exit
the locker. Don’t make me put a bullet in you.’ Briceton didn’t know how these guys could possible know
he was in the locker, considering the hundreds of lockers available. Yet, they DID know, somehow anyway,
and if they were as serious as they sounded, they might actually pump each of those lockers full of lead.
Briceton, a weary fellow who’d recently survived a small war, was in no mood to have his frail bones shot to
dust.
So he’d come out of the locker, with his hands high and his pants flooding even higher. The look
of the men scared the shit out of him. There were two, and they were decked out in strange gear that
resembled something a fellow might see on the news, when cops dressed up extra special to combat riots
and protests. These guys had gas masks on their faces, and their eyes were hidden by strange goggles that
emitted ghost trails of red whenever the men’s heads moved.
Jesus, assassins. Come to clean up this mess, I suppose.
Briceton figured as much. Perhaps assassin was the wrong word. They looked two weighed down
in gear to be swift, ninja style assassins. They were probably just special forces. Briceton figured that he’d
been found simply because of the goggle doodad on the fellows heads. Made they had x-ray vision. That
scared him plenty. These guys certainly weren’t from any rescue team. Rescuers didn’t announce their
intention to blowing holes in lockers. Looking at their weapons, Briceton realized that the call had been
more than a bluff. These guys were toting some heavy gun power. The machine gun in their hands would
do all the talking they ever needed.
“Don’t shoot me. I’m...unarmed.”
Briceton couldn’t believe he’d said something so...so stupid. If they’d suspected him of being
armed, he could be sure that he would find himself splayed across the linoleum tile. Perhaps he was still
alive because of his buffoonery. Maybe soldiers found little solace in killing stupid old men.
“Where are the others?” Came a terrible voice. To Brice, it sounded like someone speaking
through a scratchy radio tuned way too low; like trying to get your favorite mamba station out in the desert.
It was nasty, it was terrifying, and more importantly, Brice figured it was probably encoded. These boys
didn’t want anyone listening in on what they were saying.
“Others? I’m the only one left!” Brice said, hearing his shaky voice. Even if he was telling the
truth (as far as he knew), it sounded like a bold-faced lie. These guys would never buy it. After having said
it, Brice squinted his eyes shut. He was awaiting the bullets that he was sure were about to fly. Bullets, and
an old man, would litter the locker room. So much for an open casket funeral.
“Don’t lie to us, Old timer. Where are the other survivors? Anymore in these lockers?”
“I told you. I’m the only one left in here. There were others...I saw..”
“What did you see!” Came the gruff voice.
“Them....they--they came in while we were swimming. You know, a lot of us like to go for late
night swims...they came in, and---and Martin Walker---and”
“Start making sense, old man.”
“We were swimming, and Martin Walker, my old Uno buddy, he screamed about how animals were
coming into the pool, and when we looked, there were these....things....and they dove into the water and
starting picking us off. I got out. Lord knows how, but I got the water and I ran in here and locked myself
in the locker room. From there I--I watched as people were coming in too, but they were followed and--”
“Killed? What did these ‘things’ look like!”
Brice searched for the best description he could come up with. What DID they look like? In the
time he’d been in locker, in the time after the incident, he’d never really tried to understand just what ‘it’
looked like, much less what it really was. Still, he could come up with something, and he was sure these
guys knew what they were dealing with, because Brice was also sure that these people had been sent in to
eradicate ‘it’. What chance was there of destroying something, if you didn’t even know what the hell it
looked like? No, they had to know. And sense they probably did, the only reason they were even asking,
was to find out how much HE knew, and Brice guess that if he knew too much, he’d be put out of
commission.
“I can’t recall. It all happened so fast. I’m sorry--but I’m an old-”
“Try harder buddy. “ The head of the M4 automatic riffle came up and into view.
“You just try a little harder.”
Shit! They meant to shit him anyway. What in Pete was he supposed to do? Well, if these boys
did intend of killing the strange animals, no point in old Brice making their job any harder. Scary, but Brice
would rather die knowing he helped the son-of a bitches. He hated those animals that much. Maybe they
‘didn’t’ know what it looked like. Would the government be so ruthless as to send in a squad without any
real knowledge of the situation? Were these guys on a ‘need to know basis’? How could they combat
something without having explicit data on the target?
“You think too much, Mister. Now I asked you a question. What did these things look like?” The
soldier clapped his right palm down over the weapon, signifying his intolerance.
“Big reptiles. Like big Lizards, and fast. Too fast.” Brice said, trying his best to come up with a
description.
“Like a dinosaur? Did it remind you of a dinosaur?”
“I tell you, if that things a Dinosaur, it’s the one that time forgot. Never seen nothing like it, not in
a book, museum--”
“Well what do we have here? A regular Seinfield, this guy. I asked for a description, not a fucking
expert opinion.”
Bastards! He was trying not to get killed, and they were obviously trying to find any reason in the
book to waste him. What kinda people...
“What I meant is...no, it didn’t look like any dinosaur I’ve ever seen. More like a freak lizard, like
something from a horror flick.”
“You a movie expert now?” The soldier said. Honestly, Brice could hear the damn smile on the
guys face. Sadistic bastard was enjoying fucking with an old man’s mind.
“How many were there?” The guys partner asked.
“I saw about six of them. They just swarmed into the pool room like...like roaches in the light.
Once second they were running into the room, the next....and they were IN the water, and just that fast. I
swear, I KNOW they had to have jumped, but for the life of me, it’s like they just appeared in the drink.
They were that fast.”
“Then how the hell did YOU manage to get out, and in here, if they were so fast?”
YOU as in old fucking fart. YOU as in, too slow to think and too slow to tango. YOU as in can’t
eat without busting slobs and crackers on your chin. The nerve of this bastard.
“I got lucky....I suppose.”
One of the men raised his M4. Brice couldn’t tell which man had been talking, but he guessed that
the guy preparing to shoot him was the probably the one that had been toying with him. Brice knew what to
expect next. This soldier had been full of witticism, and he wouldn’t pass up the chance to strike down the
old man’s esteem before blowing the guy away. Brice prepared for the macho, Arnold Swertzenager
response.
“Well guess what old man? You luck just ran out.”
How fucking original. Shoot me now, sheesh. The guy probably could spout something like “I’ll
be back’, an not feel the shame of being so corny AND unoriginal. The sooner Brice was out of the
presence of such a man, the better.
The M4 came up. Brice just stared at the black gaping mouth, at the laser pointer which was likely
to be dancing on his forehead. Well, Del Vista Pocoa, you can be sure I wouldn’t coming HERE again.
Talk about Death Trap. Brice just closed his eyes, waiting for the bullet to the head, courtesy of one corny
assassin who didn’t even know what the hell he was hunting. It wouldn’t take the lizards-things long to pick
these chumps off. Brice had seen better men in movies, and he hated the movies.
The sound of bullets should have filled the air. The stale locker room air should have been
disturbed by the cries of a bullet ridden old man, who envisioned his death as some slow-motion
Clint-Eastwood style final offering. Brice would fly through the air, go through the wall, and probably be
impaled on a pipe. Maybe the head shot would just cause his frail skull to explode like a cherry bomb in a
watermelon. Whatever happened, it would move in slow motion.
However, the sounds of bullets didn’t come. Instead, the locker room was filled with the sounds of
splashing water. It was a tumultuous sound, like a giant anvil being dropped into a bathtub. Brice found
himself spinning, even in light of the gun being pointed at him. The sound had been that intense, and all
three men suddenly forgot about any conversation they’d just had. The sounds of splashing, or water being
thrown by the gallons; of something violently wading through.
Something big was in the pool.
“How are we doing on time?” One of soldier asked the other.
“This place is rigged. We still have ten minutes left.”
“Then I say we get back to the drop point. No point in unnecessary battles.”
“Roger that.”
Even with the static filtering, Brice could hear the fear. And had they said something about the
place being rigged? Ah, it was all too clear then. They weren’t rescuers, or even monster hunters. They
were just clean-up. The whole resort was probably being rigged with explosives, and anything left behind
would just become dust in the wind. These guys had probably been instructed to kill anything that got in
their way, civilian or other. They could handle the civilian part. It the was the other scared the shit out of
them. But where did that leave Brice?
“What about me? What happens to me?” Brice found himself asking. His options were shit.
Blow-up, get shot, or get sliced and diced. He would rather just hide in the locker till the bombs went off.
At least it would be fast and relatively painless.
“What ABOUT you? Get back into your locker.”
“What about our orders? Shoot first ask questions later?”
“Does this guy pose any kind of threat? He’s dead anyhow. We, on the other hand, should be
going.”
“Orders-”
“Fuck orders. He survived this long. No point in us taking that away from him. Lets move.”
By that time, Brice was already moving back to his locker. Fine, he would live with it. Exploded
in a locker; it would read on his tombstone, if he ever got one. Brice just about closed the door. Then he
heard it.
A terrible cry filled the locker room. Brice’s heart stopped beating. The two soldiers ran toward
Brice’s section of locker. Once there, they took separate sides of the wooden benches, where the kneeled
down, guns ready. Brice watched in terror as the entrance to the locker room became blotted out by a large
shadow. Slowly, the shadow moved further inside. Brice realized the locker door was still partly open.
Closing it would mean making noise. However, if something entered the room, he would be the first thing it
would see.
But the Shadow didn’t continue. It stopped just short of rounding the dolphin tiled tunnel. Then it
redrew, and Brice watched as the blue returned to the locker room. Suddenly, they were alone again.
“Any other way out of here?” Brice just listened to the men speak. He was still frozen with fear.
“Old man, I’m talking to you. Any other way out of here?”
“Huh? Oh, only if you go through the pool. So, it looks you’re stuck here with me.”
“Wrong answer. Let’s take a walk.”
“What? You can’t be serious. I told you what happened out there!”
“Out of the fucking locker. On the double!”
And then they were pushing him. Pushing an old man into the shower room, which was caked with
blood instead of soap. The scene was straight out of a horror story. Red handprints lined the dolphin
patterned blue tile. The cement ground was ripe with trails of red, and flies were gathering. Hundreds, if
not thousands of flies would be in this room shortly. For now, there were a fifty at the most. One of the
shower heads was busted, and also, it was caked with blood. The soldiers guessed that the some unlucky
fellow had probably tried to grasp hold of, anxious not to get pulled away. In the end, Thunder had won.
All that remained was a pair of red feet stains, and they were pulled from the shower, into the pool entrance,
where they upturned over a tiled hump.
The smell of chlorine water should have been present. Instead, as Brice was being pushed in the
pool tunnel, he smelled something so vile he was prepared to throw up not only his lunch, but his sanity.
The look on his face signaled his defeat. The smell was too strong. His senses were overwhelmed, and he
finally passed out.
“What the hell?”
“Must be the smell. I’m even getting a slight whiff through the mask.”
“Yeah, me too. Shit, it’s like an ammonia-bleach mixture. I see why they fitted us with filters.”
“Yeah, well we aren’t out of here, so help me with this guy.”
“What’s your deal? Leave him!”
“You ever heard of bait? Help me grab him!”
Brice was slung over the shoulder of the stronger Tango teammate. Slowly, the walked into the
pool room. The stopped, unable to move any farther.
It might have been pretty, at one time perhaps. The Del Vista Pocoa pool room was very large.
The dome shaped ceiling was tossed over with paintings of dolphins and undersea scenes of sharks chasing
fish. There were a few paintings of seals and one of a huge whale. It might have been majestic, if not for
the red hue that bathed the room.
The water was no longer crystal blue, but a deep chunky brown. The brown water was restless,
and the men could see that something had just recently escaped it. That was no doubt the sound they had
heard while entertaining the old man. Everything was red. The lights being cast onto the pool amplified the
color over the entire dome. There was blood everywhere. There seemed to be hundreds of streaks, all
leading away from the pool. Clumps of blood and black grit had begun to clog into the pool gutters. A pair
of bloody goggles floated on top the red mess. It was truly a barbaric scene.
The plate glass windows were also stained, and broken. The entrance to the women’s locker room
was literally torn apart, and more streaks of blood could seen leading into the shower area. The hot-tub still
boiled, but the bubbles were brown, and something nasty appeared to be hanging just under the dirty tossing
of the heat. The soldiers didn’t even want to know what that was. Instead, they moved cautiously, terrified
of the alien environment, and confused as to what to do next. The old fellow had claimed that was another
exit. The women’s locker room was out of the question. So they scanned around.
They saw it. Of course, the public entrance. People who didn’t feel like swimming, who only
wanted to watch loved ones, they entered through there. The soldiers would use that door to get the hell
out there. The doorway was in shambles, and they guessed that the animals had first appeared in that
section, where the Martin fellow probably saw them. The soldiers didn’t want to think about what had
happened after that. The old guy had told some of it, but it was obvious that he hadn’t stuck around for the
better, more gruesome parts of the show.
“Where the hell---what the hell is going on!”
The old man was up.
“Put me down! You’re not using me to--”
“Shut the fuck up!” The soldier screamed at him through the nasty static. It came out more like a
brisk yell than a command.
“Put him down. And shut him up!”
“Put me down. You won’t throw me to those things!”
Brice was slammed to the ground. So much for putting him down. The guy had just dropped him.
The old man seemed to bounce off of the bloody tile like a toy ball. He rolled a couple of feet after landing.
He prayed that his frail spine hadn’t been damaged. In a frenzy, he wiggled his toes, then his fingers. He
was still in one piece. He expected to be shot then. He didn’t know why he’d insisted on making so much
noise. It was being a baby, told to shut the fuck up countless times, but never doing it. Sometimes, a person
just needed to make noise, even the situation didn’t call for it.
“This is all wrong! We need to get back to the church!”
“You old ass! I told you to be quiet!”
Brice was kicked in his ribs. He’d been moaning, hell, even crying, and now there was more pain
to go along with it. A thin cry escaped his lips, and he crawled toward the pool, anxious to get away from
his tormentors. With his thin hand, Brice pulled at the wet tile. Slowly, he inched forward, desperate to get
anywhere. The waves of brown seemed to call to him. Finally, he stopped. The soldiers were still
blabbering behind him, but he felt no more blows, and he was thankful. Locker. He needed to get back to
his locker...
And even while he thought it, something rose out of the nasty water. Slowly, it ascended. The
brown water parted around its’ scaled skin. Pitch black eyes stared into Brice’s eyes. Suddenly, he could see
the long , leathery snout in full glory. No, he thought to himself, this can’t be a dinosaur. It’s...It’s a
dragon!
Tango team could only watch in terror. They should be running, or even shooting, but somehow,
they were frozen. The old man was frozen as well. His face was less than two feet away from the beasts
head, and yet he couldn’t move. He could talk, though. He could beg for his life.
“Oh my god! Help me! Don’t just stand there! Help me! Shoot this damned thing!”
The old man was screaming. “ Shoot it! Shoot it!” But no bullets flew. Some assassins they turned out to
be. None of this would be happening if he’d just been allowed to stay in his locker. Now, he was surely
going to die. Brice couldn’t help from wetting his pants. The aroma only added to the terrible stench in the
pool room. Brice could only hope to pass out now. Anything would be better than what was about to
happen to him. “Shoot it! Shoot it!” He kept screaming over and over.
Finally, one of the men did raise his weapon. It was a half-hearted gesture. Even he had meant to
really help, it was pointless. As he raised his weapon, his fingers shook. He’d never been more scared.
Worse, his partner was back peddling, slowly but surely slinking away from the scene. They hadn’t signed
on for this. They knew that they would be facing a particularly dangerous animal. Someone had even used
the word ‘dinosaur’. But it was no dinosaur the rose out of the mire. It was an abomination. The soldier
raised his weapon to fire.
Brice screamed when the claw slid from the water. Long, thick muscled fingers, ending in black
claws. He screamed, and even as he heard the gun going off behind him, he realized it would be too late.
The bullets missed their target completely. They hit various parts of the pool, but they were the wrong
parts. Brice screamed in agony as one of the bullets hit his right shoulder. Either way, he was going to end
up in pain. The finale to the terrible show came when the black daggers wrapped around his face. He
screamed into the leathery palm of the terrible animal . Then he pulled with such quickness that a second
later, he was embraced in black water. There, he would learn a new meaning to the word pain.
They watched in stunned silence as the scene settled down. The old man had been pulled into the
water after having been shot in the shoulder. The soldier’s hands had been too shaky to hit anything, but
he’d tried. His weapon was till raised, he expected the creature to explode from the water again. It
wouldn’t be able to stay underwater forever.
“Let’s go! What are you standing there for!”
“It’s still down there! We need to kill it now!”
“The church! We did our part. Come the fuck on, now!”
The church. Christ, he’d forgotten all about the mission. The whole spa was rigged with enough
Semtex to level a city, and he’d actually thought about sticking around. Reality hit him. They’d been there
too long. If they weren’t back at the church in time, they would go up with the resort. That didn’t suit the
guy at all.
“How long?”
“We’re way overdue. We need to get the hell out of here! This whole mission was a mistake.”
There was nothing to argue about. Both men gave one final look to the brown death pool. Not
taking any chances, they backed away, fearing that the second they turned to run, the animal of the pit would
explode after them. Christ, the things were fast all right. Way too fast. What the hell had the people up
high been thinking when they’d come up with it? Now grunts had to deal with it. It wasn’t fair in the least.
And time was running short.
Finally, they turned and ran. Ran with heart beats way above acceptable. The carpeted walls of the
resting tunnel flew by in a flash. They all but kicked the snack room door down. If they heard a noise, they
didn’t let it stop their ungodly sprint. Riot gear was heavy, but it didn’t matter. Dead bodies were heavier.
Back at the pool, where silence had once again taken precedence, something slid from the murky
water. For a moment, it stood there, watching the surroundings, sniffing the air. Then it looked to the
entrance.
Suddenly, as fast as it had appeared, it was gone.
The red waves covered the blue dolphins, the small seals, the great whale. Only the artificial
animals of the deep knew the comforts of the new found silence.
to be continued.....
1/1/02 1:36:40 AM
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