Early in the afternoon of August 23, Eagle One landed on the fifty-yard line of Lane Stadium, formerly home of the Virginia Tech Hokies. A pack of Jaw-Wolves had been living there when the 1 ^ st Armored Division arrived in town a few weeks before. After losing a tank, Prescott‘s forces managed to kill off the massive, armor-plated predators in a brutal engagement.
Nonetheless, with arrival of the human army, the area around Blacksburg became fairly safe although they found no survivors, much to Prescott‘s surprise. Indeed, the rural nature of the region should have resulted in a survival rate equal to or exceeding the 1.5 % average.
Not in Blacksburg.
In any case, they traveled out of town in a heavily armed convoy along Rt. 460. They followed the road north then west before hooking up with State Route 621 through the Jefferson National Forest. Not long after, they said goodbye to the major roads and dove deeper into the Appalachians.
During the trip, Trevor fidgeted and squirmed in his seat as he considered what waited ahead. He kept wondering why he brought JB along yet, for some reason, he felt as if honoring the boy’s request was the right thing to do.
As for Jorge, he admired the scenery from inside the armored Suburban. His nose spent most of the trip flat against the window while one arm gently clasped his stuffed bunny which was, as usual, tightly wrapped in its tiny blanket.
Anita Nehru and Dante Jones accompanied the father and son, the former due to her knowledge of hostiles and the latter because Trevor felt he might need a friend.
Finally, they arrived at the ultimate destination: an old burned compound once surrounded by a chain link fence.
Troops from the 1 ^ st Armored division blanked the area with checkpoints and patrols in surrounding hills and fields.
Trevor and his entourage of two advisors, his son, General Prescott, and human bodyguards emerged from the vehicles. No K9s accompanied Trevor on this trip.
The rain from the previous day had moved along but a quilt-like cover of silky gray clouds remained overhead, blocking out a good deal of sunlight and contributing to a cold, damp chill that belied the August day.
Captain Phillip Rhodes met them at the ruins.
Trevor surveyed his surroundings and felt a tingle in his spine. Although destroyed, the fence, the smaller buildings, and the isolated location felt hauntingly familiar.
“We don’t know how long ago this place was wiped out,” Rhodes answered the question before anyone asked. “Our division analysts have been going over the area with a fine tooth comb to figure out what did it in.”
Anita Nehru asked, “Tell me, Captain, what have your men discovered?”
“Not much,” Rhodes admitted. “We found rifles and pistols, most of which looked to have been in storage in this main building. We pulled them from under the ruins so it was probably stuff lying around and not used.”
“Tracks?” Anita asked.
“We found deer and bear tracks, all relatively fresh but that’s about it. Judging by the skeletons in the mess we figure this happened a long time ago, so much so that if they were hit by predators or something on foot then the tracks are long since lost.”
“What about the bodies?” Trevor asked while his eyes scanned the rubble.
“Nothing conclusive yet. Most of our medical evaluation staff is back at Lynchburg helping Dr. Maple’s quarantine team. But it don’t matter much-um, Sir, — because the remains are few and far between. I mean, we’re talking about parts. Scavengers, carrion eaters have picked this place dry.”
Trevor glared. “So you’re telling me you don’t know jack shit about what happened here?”
Rhodes‘ mouth opened but he did not speak. General Prescott stepped in.
“Well, we just spotted this place yesterday and our resources are spread out up and down the range setting up positions. Sorry we don’t have more, but we’re working on it.”
“Show me the rest.”
Dante placed a hand on Trevor’s shoulder. “Are you sure? You might want to chew a few more of them out first.”
Stone swiped away Dante’s hand and followed the others beyond the destroyed estate into the gently rising woods. That is when Trevor noticed the carcasses. Everywhere.
Dogs. Canines. Judging by the bones, they represented a variety of breeds.
Trevor heard a sniffle from his son and saw tears forming in JB’s eyes. He reached down and hoisted Jorgie into his arms.
“All the doggies, father…all the doggies…”
Dante asked Anita, “Can you figure out what did this?”
“I’m not a veterinarian or a coroner. Besides, it doesn’t look like there are enough remains to draw any conclusions.”
Trevor stated surely, “They tore each other apart, in fits of madness.”
The dead dogs littered the forest with as many piles of bones as there were trees. It was hard to make out the parts; spring thaws and winter snows and thaws again conspired to warp and rot the bodies.
They arrived at the small plateau in front of the mountain face where the overturned Hemlock tree guarded a black hole. Soldiers stood there, securing the cave from the outside.
Trevor and the others stopped. JB slid from his father’s grasp and stood.
The hole in the earth beckoned Trevor as if it were a voice from some forgotten past begging to be heard again. Pleading to tell a tale.
Stone stepped forward. His son grabbed his hand and took a step, too.
Trevor hesitated. How could he possibly justify taking his three year old son in there, especially before he had seen it himself? Then he remembered the drawing and the shadowy figure his son saw in nightmares.
Against his better judgment, he allowed Jorgie to accompany him inside while the others waited behind. The two pushed through the deformed roots of the Hemlock and into a hole of black.
Trevor stopped a pace inside the entrance. He saw nothing, as if he had closed his eyes.
The air felt surprisingly dry and his nose detected-or perhaps felt-an almost chalky taste in the air, masking an underlying, distant odor of decay.
His eyes slowly adjusted, noticing a flickering red light coming from somewhere at the back of the dome-shaped cavern. That flicker splashed enough illumination to allow his eyes to understand his surroundings.
He saw bones. Human bones everywhere, the remains of skeletons broken and decaying. Many wore the torn and faded remains of jeans, dresses, fatigues, and police uniforms. The red light danced over them like a ghost of spilt blood.
Trevor cupped his palm over JB’s blue eyes.
“You shouldn’t see this.”
Next, he saw a pile of debris stacked against a wall of dirt, rock, and roots. The light came from-no, that was not a pile of debris, it was a mound of remains. Skeletal bodies stacked one on top of the other creating a…
“A wall,” he thought aloud.
“What’s that, father?” JB’s eyes still hid behind Trevor’s hand.
“I said, someone piled…piled junk in one corner to hide the entrance to another room.”
Trevor hoisted his boy and carried him toward that next chamber, toward the red glimmer. With his father’s shielding hand gone, JB covered his eyes himself while slung against his dad’s hip.
Trevor felt his son shake. Or maybe it was Trevor’s own tremble.
Brittle human bones crunched under his feet as he approached the barrier. Something had breached that wall, pushing out from inside. A red light flickered from behind the pile.
Trevor stopped. A chilled air escaped from the smaller chamber and carried with it a harsh smell that nearly overwhelmed his senses. He could not quite place the smell, perhaps one part rot and another part stink; something akin to the stench of a sewer.
As bad the odor, he hesitated for a different reason.
Like the smell, he could not quite place that reason but it caused an eerie tingle along his spine, much like the first day of the invasion when he went home and found the front door smashed open. Despite everything he had seen that day-monsters in the streets, people dying-it was that moment when he crossed the threshold of his house that his world truly changed; when he found his dead parents and the horrific creature that had mutilated them. At that moment, he had confronted the truth of a new reality.