tank top she wore was stretched to its breaking point, appearing to be on the verge of rupture at any moment. The bottom edge of the woefully inadequate garment rode up, exposing the lower portion of her protuberant belly. It was stained with blood from a six-inch hole just south of its equatorial line. While no blood oozed from the nasty wound, what Connor saw was singlehandedly the most disturbing thing to ever seer its image onto the surface of his retinas.
From the nightmarish depths of the jagged chasm, a small hand attached to an equally small arm jutted out and flailed wildly like a captive animal trying to grab something just out of reach through the bars of its cage. Tiny, searching fingers opened and closed as if trying to find purchase on something that might provide the necessary traction to complete its ongoing excavation. If the wretched woman stumbling toward his rapidly approaching truck noticed that little detail at all, she gave no indication, despite the small abomination’s feverish efforts to free itself from the cage its mother had become. That’s not a person—it’s a thing. Connor Roan knew, without a doubt, that he was doomed to see that vile image forever burned onto his hard drive every time he closed his eyes.
A split-second later, Connor barely felt the plangent thud of his brush guard crashing into the wretched thing. He saw the body fold forward with a snap, doubling over at an unnatural point above her waist. Its arms whipped up and over from the force of the impact, slamming onto the hood hard enough to leave a shallow imprint. Similarly, its long hair slung around in an impressive arc with enough speed to make a heavy metal rocker jealous. The thin strands of hair smacked against the hood so forcefully that Connor swore he saw flecks of paint flying off, as though stripped away by the tenacious strokes of a metal wire brush. The last thing he saw before the darkness was the head attached to the hair as it collided face first with the hood. Perhaps most unsettling of all was the lack of expression on its face as it flew forward. A sharp crack erupted as its head contacted the metal hood before rebounding off with equally impressive speed. The brutalized body instantly disappeared from view, sucked under the truck like an insect being pulled down a drain.
Thunk, clunk…thump!
Had he been capable of looking in his rear view mirror, Connor would have seen something more akin to a life-sized ragdoll than a young woman being hurled out from underneath his truck. The incident’s effect on the truck was far less than that on his calloused brain, as the culmination of what he saw and felt wormed its way into the last remnant of his flagging soul. In a subconscious response to the inordinate amount of pain this caused, he jerked the steering wheel violently to the left. The deafening screech of rubber on pavement heralded the truck’s dramatic shift in direction, as it careened off the road directly into a telephone pole.
Nothing.
All the chaos, horror, and agony of the last two seconds were finally gone, leaving only an impenetrable blackness that was mercifully devoid of everything.
2
October 2, 2015
Dobbins Air Reserve Base
Marietta, GA
Heat seared across her cheek as she listened to the guttering sound of a nearby fire. Is the campfire still burning? Expecting the familiar outdoor smells of dirt and wood smoke, she was nonplussed by the acrid odor of burning rubber and something more pungent that she could not identify. While she heard the incessant droning of nocturnal insects, the anticipated popping and crackling of over-moist kindling she recalled from camping trips as a child were conspicuously absent. Instead the rhythmic, whirring sound of something spinning at high speed, rubbing and scraping against metal with each revolution, resonated in her ears.
Confused and cloaked in darkness, Dr. Lin San felt as though she had just awoken from a deep sleep and now
From the nightmarish depths of the jagged chasm, a small hand attached to an equally small arm jutted out and flailed wildly like a captive animal trying to grab something just out of reach through the bars of its cage. Tiny, searching fingers opened and closed as if trying to find purchase on something that might provide the necessary traction to complete its ongoing excavation. If the wretched woman stumbling toward his rapidly approaching truck noticed that little detail at all, she gave no indication, despite the small abomination’s feverish efforts to free itself from the cage its mother had become. That’s not a person—it’s a thing. Connor Roan knew, without a doubt, that he was doomed to see that vile image forever burned onto his hard drive every time he closed his eyes.
A split-second later, Connor barely felt the plangent thud of his brush guard crashing into the wretched thing. He saw the body fold forward with a snap, doubling over at an unnatural point above her waist. Its arms whipped up and over from the force of the impact, slamming onto the hood hard enough to leave a shallow imprint. Similarly, its long hair slung around in an impressive arc with enough speed to make a heavy metal rocker jealous. The thin strands of hair smacked against the hood so forcefully that Connor swore he saw flecks of paint flying off, as though stripped away by the tenacious strokes of a metal wire brush. The last thing he saw before the darkness was the head attached to the hair as it collided face first with the hood. Perhaps most unsettling of all was the lack of expression on its face as it flew forward. A sharp crack erupted as its head contacted the metal hood before rebounding off with equally impressive speed. The brutalized body instantly disappeared from view, sucked under the truck like an insect being pulled down a drain.
Thunk, clunk…thump!
Had he been capable of looking in his rear view mirror, Connor would have seen something more akin to a life-sized ragdoll than a young woman being hurled out from underneath his truck. The incident’s effect on the truck was far less than that on his calloused brain, as the culmination of what he saw and felt wormed its way into the last remnant of his flagging soul. In a subconscious response to the inordinate amount of pain this caused, he jerked the steering wheel violently to the left. The deafening screech of rubber on pavement heralded the truck’s dramatic shift in direction, as it careened off the road directly into a telephone pole.
Nothing.
All the chaos, horror, and agony of the last two seconds were finally gone, leaving only an impenetrable blackness that was mercifully devoid of everything.
2
October 2, 2015
Dobbins Air Reserve Base
Marietta, GA
Heat seared across her cheek as she listened to the guttering sound of a nearby fire. Is the campfire still burning? Expecting the familiar outdoor smells of dirt and wood smoke, she was nonplussed by the acrid odor of burning rubber and something more pungent that she could not identify. While she heard the incessant droning of nocturnal insects, the anticipated popping and crackling of over-moist kindling she recalled from camping trips as a child were conspicuously absent. Instead the rhythmic, whirring sound of something spinning at high speed, rubbing and scraping against metal with each revolution, resonated in her ears.
Confused and cloaked in darkness, Dr. Lin San felt as though she had just awoken from a deep sleep and now
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