"Name: Bore Bug
Secondary Name(s): Burn Bugs; Torture Beetles; Bore Beetles
Classification: Insect, small
Physical Characteristics: Black and red; beetle-like w/pincers;?" — 1" in size
Description: Created by The Order. A swarm of Bore Bugs is poured upon a restrained target. The creatures bore into the skin and out again causing significant pain. While they leave wounds the Bore Bugs do not cause permanent damage and therefore are ideal for repeat use on the same victim to inflict maximum suffering." — Excerpt from Hostiles Database 1 ^ st edition.
The chair cascaded across the Command Center, bouncing into a corner. Jon refused to acknowledge the pain in his foot as he walked to the desk and slammed his M4 on top.
His wife told him to, "Calm down."
Shep, Omar, Stonewall, and "Bear" Ross stood nearby watching Jon’s tantrum. Others gathered in small groups downstairs where they mingled nervously, like shepherd-less sheep.
Forty minutes had past since the monster-ship disappeared over the southern horizon. Dustin McBride and Dante Jones went to spread the word of Trevor’s abduction to the farms.
Stonewall said, "I beg your pardon, but it occurs to me that we need to carefully weigh our options. I suggest a more constructive course than furniture-kicking."
Lori asked, "Can’t we get the helicopters after them? Maybe they can shoot it down?"
"Great idea," Jon scoffed. "Did you get your pilot’s license yet?"
Shepherd added, "Nina and Trevor were the only ones who knew how to fly them."
"Wait a second," Lori remembered, "didn’t they rescue a pilot from the Red Hands?"
Ross knew to whom Lori referred.
"He didn’t fly helicopters. He’s a student pilot. Hasn’t even learned how to land yet."
Stonewall quipped, "Hmm, that should make his next lesson quite interesting."
"Enough!" Jon snapped. "I’m glad you find this funny cause I sure as hell don’t."
"Easy, fella," Shepherd said. "No one is laughing."
Jon eyed the older man. "Except for your girl, Nina. She must be laughing good."
Shepherd’s brow drew sharp.
"I reckon you should explain that, son."
"You saw what she did. She tricked Trevor to hand him over to those things. She was yelling something at you. I reckon you should share it with the rest of us."
Everyone stared at Shepherd. Omar coughed a puff of smoke.
Stonewall struggled to maintain calm in his voice: "Did Mr. Brewer suggest that Nina Forest engineered this abduction? Did I hear that correctly?"
Jon barked, "Damn straight, you heard it right."
"No, that’s not possible," Lori jumped to Nina’s defense but they did not listen to her.
Jerry Shepherd told them, "She was yelling that Trevor murdered Scott."
"Scott?" Ross did not know of Scott.
Jon told him, "He was the fourth person with them when their chopper crashed. We spent almost three days looking for Nina and this Scott guy. We only found Nina."
During the course of the conversation, Omar’s head swiveled back and forth as if watching a tennis match. He finally broke in, "I ask for your excuse in my asking, but why would Mr. Trevor be wanting to murder someone?"
"He didn’t," Shepherd said and squeezed his eyes shut tight.
Lori narrowed her eyes and walked to Shep with her head tilted.
"There's something more. What is it?"
Shep said, "As I recall, she said she loved Scott and she was going to marry him."
Stonewall concluded, "Avenging her dead lover? How romantic."
"No, no," Shepherd grimaced.
Lori finished his thought: "Nina wasn’t involved with this Scott guy. Or anyone."
The conviction in her voice surprised Shep and he eagerly agreed.
"That’s right. They hated each other and not in that way boys and girls hate each other then end up in the sack. He wasn't a very open-minded fella and she had no respect for him."
Jon groaned. "Fine. Great. So where the hell does that leave us?"
"Seems to me we have one other problem to consider," Shepherd said and turned his head toward the door. As usual, two Doberman Pinschers guarded that door, sitting so firm and rigid that it might have qualified as ‘attention.’
Stonewall gave voice to the concern: "I say, without their Master around, is it conceivable they may turn on us? How gruesome a thought."
A booming voice grabbed their attention: "Rejoice with Him, O heavens, and let all the angels of God worship Him, for he will avenge the blood of his servants!"
Reverend Johnny stormed into the room carrying a metal box. He placed it atop the map on the desk and opened the lid. A putrid smell seeped into the air from the green carcass inside.
Stonewall pinched his nostrils. "I say, what fiendish mess have you visited upon us?"
Jon peeked into the box and observed, "That’s the creature from last night."
Reverend Johnny said, "I recognized the ship that spirited away our friends. It was a ‘Chariot’ driven by The Order, not quite an animal yet more than machine."
Lori stumbled with the words as she said, "Nina gave Trevor to The Order?"
Shepherd quickly replied, "That makes no sense."
"Is it possible that Ms. Forest was having an implant?" Omar asked.
Jon said, "She had no blotches. She was never alone to get them. I don’t think they could’ve gotten into her apartment to implant her without the alarm sounding-wait a second…she was alone… once. For three days. Back when you first crashed. Wow."
Reverend Johnny fiddled with the dead mass in the box.
Lori did not believe it. "No, she would’ve shown signs a long time ago."
"Cast your eyes upon this fiend," Reverend Johnny interrupted. "I think it shall reveal answers unto us."
He pulled loose a messy, slimy chunk of the creature, a sort of pouch made of a clear, plastic-like flesh.
"I have conducted many exams of The Order’s machinations and have come to recognize this part of their biotechnology. This organ produces a transmission. Yes that’s it-a signal."
Stonewall asked, "So it could roust reinforcements? Or send a message on our whereabouts, perhaps?"
"I fear we are dealing with something even beyond my direct experience," Johnny cautioned. "But the Lord has blessed me with the intelligence to venture a guess as to the purpose behind this vile creature. You say Ms. Forest disappeared for three days?"
"Yep," Shepherd answered. "But that was a good month and a half ago. She’s shown no signs of an implant. She was acting all normal up ‘til this afternoon."
"When she asked Trevor to go on a picnic." Lori remembered she had encouraged Trevor to go. Maybe she should not have stuck her nose in after all.
"Hear me out, friends. One thing my trials and tribulations have taught is that The Order is a clever bunch. Blasphemous, but clever. Based on the evidence my eyes show me and the words you tell about Ms. Forest, I must conclude that during her hiatus she was implanted with something new. Something that sat dormant until activated by this gruesome specimen."
"Good, God," Jon gasped. "Then they made sure we found her so we’d bring her back here. But why?"
Stonewall said, "We all know Mr. Stone is blessed with unusual…'assets,' that have given us a fighting chance. If The Order knew there was someone out there of his capacity…"
Jon completed the thought as he waved a small cloud of Omar’s smoke away: "They could find him by using a survivor to track him down and eliminate that threat."
Lori, relieved, said, "So Nina is innocent."
Shepherd remained puzzled. "That doesn’t explain why she thinks Trevor killed Scott or why she has memories of being in love with that guy."
The Reverend proclaimed, "Some revelations must wait."
"Excuse me for being such a pesky nose-sticker-in," Omar said as he took another nervous drag from his smoke. "But I do not see how this revelation changes the situation."
Reverend Johnny offered an answer.
"My friends, I have told you that The Order uses a bio technology and that technology can be countered by enzymes- specific enzymes. It’s as if each of their unholy creatures comes in batches from similar-but not identical-organic machines that vary from region to region. I have removed dozens of implants from The Order’s victims in the weeks before I found my home here. All of those implants shared a common source, just as this miserable creature in this metal box came from that same place. It’s the reason I was moving south when I had the fortune to make your acquaintance."
Jon led, "And that place is…?"
The Reverend removed the box and its messy contents from the desktop.
"Another blessing of saving a soul from The Order after implantation is that they have some recollection of the experience. I can tell you with confidence that The Order’s closest outpost-the one from whence all these beings have been constructed-is here…"
He slammed a finger onto the map, pointing to a mid-sized city to the south.
Allentown, Pennsylvania.
"That’s only two hours away on the turnpike." Lori sounded relieved.
Jon groaned and told her, "Two hours at sixty-five on a clear turnpike."
Stonewall McAllister explained further: "I fear that journey would be across a hostile landscape with ferocious beasts waiting at every turn. The comfort and seclusion of this estate has blinded some of us to the reality that awaits just a few miles over yonder."
"People, just so we’re clear," Jon said, "we’re talking about some sixty or seventy miles."
Lori asked, "Reverend, I want the truth. What do you think is going to happen to Trevor? If they wanted him dead, they would’ve killed him on the mountain. Can we save him?"
"Even if they violate him with an implant today we should have some time to remove it. Still, I cannot see the truth. If I’m right in what this vile creature did to Ms. Forest, even my knowledge of The Order is humble."
Shepherd’s eyes grew wide and in a panicked voice he asked, "What about Nina?"
"Again, Mr. Shepherd, I can not say. However, she was not showing any blotches on her skin. Perhaps she, too, may be salvaged."
Jon leaned low over the map and scratched his chin.
"What say you?" Shepherd asked Jon.
"What? It's not up to me."
"Yes, it's your decision," Shepherd said. "You've been Trevor's right-hand guy since we got here. He trusts your judgment. Seems to me this one is on your shoulders, like it or not."
Jon stood straight and glanced around the room. He saw all eyes on him.
"I owe him," Jon said. "I think we all do. So there really isn't much of a decision to make. Let's go. Let's go and get him back."
– Trevor blinked his eyes open and found himself staring up at a softly glowing ball planted high in a black ceiling.
A woman's voice commanded, "Wake up you murdering son of a bitch."
His senses rebooted, one at a time.
Behind the voice, he heard a strange, unsettling sound; a noise like breathing, or perhaps a vibration from some arcane machine. The air felt warm and moist, but also carried a heavy, rotting feeling as if the air itself had spoiled.
Images-memories-assembled like puzzle pieces fitting into place.
The mountain top…the thing in the sky…
Panic slammed his gut.
"Nina! Nina, are you okay?"
Her voice snarled, "I’m fine now that you’re going to pay for what you did."
A binding of some kind-wet rope? — restrained his arms and legs as he lay on a hard table. The area around him, beyond the rim of light cast from above, hid in darkness but he sensed a wide-open chamber.
A shiver shot through his body and he realized he wore no clothes. Interestingly, he still felt the slight weight of the key around his neck, yet he could not see it. Perhaps only his eyes could see that key, if it really existed at all.
Nina stepped into the light and glared at him with contempt.
"You killed Scott. I remember now."
His confusion and the horrid surroundings stayed any feelings of bashfulness. He lay naked, strapped to a table in front of her, but that seemed so very unimportant.
"Nina, what are you talking about? Where are we?"
"I brought you to The Order; your greatest enemy. They will do worse than kill you."
Her rage emanated so powerfully that Trevor immediately saw it as forced. Even in his groggy state of mind, he knew he had never met-let alone killed-Scott.
"What do you remember, Nina?"
"I remember you killing him. I found my memories. I saw you kill my lover."
"Your…lover?"
She spoke in short shots, as if reading bullet points from a script: "Yes, we were going to be married. We were in love. You killed him. I must have revenge."
Trevor pleaded, "Nina, this isn't you. They are controlling you, somehow. If I had killed Scott, you would have killed-not kidnapped-me. You aren't friends with these aliens! They are manipulating you. They gave you this idea so you'd give me to them. It must be an implant!"
"Shut up! You murdering bastard!"
Another voice interrupted from the darkness: "That’s enough for now, my child."
She hesitated, her brow furled, and then Nina reluctantly withdrew. A figure materialized and approached Trevor Stone.
He wore an ornate robe and slowly glided next to Trevor’s bound form. He may have been in his fifties but this man had changed from human to something different.
The skin on his face flaked, as if decaying but not dying. Scaly patches of green covered his throat. Emerald pupils with dark pulsating red veins sat where human eyes once lived. His clothing, a gold and red robe, gently writhed as if a mass squirmed beneath.
"Who are you?"
"I am a servant of the living God, Voggoth. A Bishop in his forces of righteousness."
Trevor tried to act brave, but fear tingled in his limbs and he trembled against the restraints. This was an evil place: the sound of the walls…as if they were alive; this horrid, warped man, the fact that Nina had trapped him here.
He wanted to scream I never wanted this! I didn't ask to be a leader!
Instead, his voice quivered, "A-Are you going to stick one of those things in me?"
"If only I could reward you by making you one with Voggoth. Alas, my son, your role in perpetuating the greatness of the one true God will take you on a much darker path. You will become a servant of my Lord in many different ways but you will not be one with Him. We have something different planned for you. Something painful. Very painful."
A mass moved on the ceiling; the light there flickered. Something big. Something spindly…insect-like.
"Wh-what are you going to do?"
He tried to find the courage to be a shining example of humanity in the face of this devil but he could not, especially as he caught a glimpse of what moved up there. It resembled a gigantic Black Widow spider: much bigger than a man. It dangled from the ceiling with its legs working feverishly on something.
Preparing.
"If we were to make you one with Voggoth and return you to your friends, they would discover your new found righteousness. We could give you one of the new sleeper implants, such as we gave your friend. It lay dormant for a long time, no larger than a freckle on her back, until the activation signal brought it to life but the purpose of the sleeper implant was much different then the goals we have set for you."
"Goals?"
The spider-thing blocked the main light as it hung from the ceiling, reaching out with its thin appendages toward the victim’s naked body.
A fright-filled groan slipped from his lips.
"You have already gained quite a following. Rumors of your fight to save your people have spread far. There are those who suggest your ability to adapt to your new role is evidence of mankind's strength. Now we shall dispel such notions while at the same time serving Voggoth's interests on this world."
Trevor struggled in vain against his bindings as the spider-thing dangled closer.
A thick attachment-an umbilical cord-stretched away from the creature’s abdomen to the ceiling, suggesting it was part of the room, not an independent entity.
A thin tube extended from the monster toward Trevor's face.
"There is some debate within The Order as to the greater weakness of your kind: is it your attachments and emotions, or is it-as I believe-the physical attributes of your body? We shall now test my theory by using what you would call 'agony'. The suffering you endure will open your mind to programming of our design."
The tube stuck into Trevor’s mouth. A clear, gooey liquid oozed from the sides of the tube and covered his lips. As it oozed it solidified, creating a seal. He could not move his mouth, yet he could breathe through the tube.
The Bishop bent close to Trevor's ear.
"You will wither and break, Mr. Stone, a demonstration of your weakness for all to see and then you will be programmed to serve The Order. They will find no implants, yet in the end you will deliver your entire race to blessed Voggoth."
More of the gooey substance poured over Trevor’s head, sealing first his nostrils then his ears, then gluing his eyes open. More liquid came, poured over his crotch and oozing around the middle of his body. The secretions sealed every orifice.
A bloated, organic sack drooped from the torture-spider above Trevor’s feet.
"No permanent damage will be done. We do not want your body harmed. We only want to open the door to your mind."
The sack burst and thousands of tiny red and black insects poured out. They swarmed his body in a creeping blanket, digging at his skin, burning and itching as they moved. The gooey mask muffled his screams and he disappeared beneath the horde.
– Jon pushed the workshop door open before Omar could remove his key from the lock.
"Oh, yes, please, do not worry about breaking my wrist; this is of no big thing."
Jon ignored him and walked inside. Omar switched on the fluorescent lights.
"Wow, lots of toys here."
"Toys? Oh, certainly, so simple a child understanding them would be of no problem."
Brewer turned and stomped directly to Omar. The professor thought maybe Jon had finally suffered enough sarcasm and aimed to whack him.
"I’m just kidding! I’m just kidding!"
"Me and you have to have a talk. I’ve only got a couple of hours and I need your help."
Omar searched for a cigarette.
– Stonewall McAllister surveyed the assembled group of eight with Woody "Bear" Ross and Kristy Kaufman at his side. Dustin McBride also hovered nearby.
"I had the pleasure of commanding some of you during my trek north. Others are new to me, but I am already quite sure of your valor. You would have to have valor-or extreme mental deficiency-to volunteer for this undertaking. It has been my experience that those with valor or those with extreme mental deficiency tend to fight well."
Many of the group smiled. Others cast their eyes around nervously.
"I fight well. I will leave it to you to judge if it from valor or deficiency. You should know this adventure will not be under my command. Mr. Jon Brewer will hold the reigns and I have pledged allegiance to him. Together, we will deliver a blow to our enemies."
Ross boomed, "Who’s with the General?"
Several of the volunteers-including McAllister’s officers-yelled, "Hoo-rah!"
Ross stepped closer to the group and glared at those who had not yelled, eliciting a cough, a snicker, and finally more "hoo-rahs".
"Mr. Ross, take a team to the farm and retrieve our mounts and wagons. Ms. Kaufman, dust off our collection of things that make big bangs. Impress a few of our volunteers here to help with the heavy lifting; you mustn’t damage those pretty nails of yours."
"Right away, General." Her voice spoke first soft then roared, "All right, I need four strong backs who ain’t afraid of work! FALL IN!"
The group dispersed. Jerry Shepherd approached.
"How goes assembly, General?"
Stonewall tipped his head politely. "My group will be ready in a few hours. I believe Mr. Brewer’s decision to go on horseback to be sound. We can not depend on fuel resources out there in the wilderness."
"Agreed. You’ve been outside of this valley, Garrett. You’ve seen things."
"Indeed."
"Both Trevor and now Jon, we’re following fellas who haven’t seen much of what really is going on out there."
Stonewall smiled, "I suspect we will have to provide assistance. I have thrown my lot in with Mr. Stone. I will do what I must."
"I reckon that’s true. I’m just not quite sure all of these folks know what they’re in for. This ain’t no Saturday night cruise."
"Indeed not, Mr. Shepherd. Indeed not."
– Jon Brewer, Danny Washburn, Reverend Johnny, and Kristy Kaufman gathered in the Command Center
Jon told them, "We're keeping the party to a minimum to not attract attention."
Danny asked, "Will you have enough fire power when you get there?"
"Fear not, for He shall guide the faithful with his sturdy hand," Reverend Johnny added his voice to the discussion. "This is one disciple of the Lord who is never short of two things: faith or ammunition. We will cut a swath through the fields of-"
Jon interrupted, "Gotchya, Rev," and then to Kristy and Washburn: "You two will be in charge of things around here for the time being. Hunker down and keep a low profile. Your biggest worry is the K9s. So far, they’ve been keeping with their standard patrols and whatnot. Who knows what will happen the longer Trevor is away."
Washburn said, "Hey, don't worry," then threw an arm around Kristy who scowled. "Me and the little lady here will keep a light on for ya'."
– Trevor awoke in the room bound to the table. The bugs were gone-perhaps a long while ago-but it did not matter: the sensation of the crawling mass remained, ingrained into the nerve endings throughout his body.
The hideous torture-spider had vanished, possibly hiding nearby in the dark. The room still rumbled that scary sound as if he were inside the belly of a living being or a giant machine.
"Our great leader faints at the sight of a few bugs." Nina appeared at his side but he did not see her at first; his attention remained on his ordeal.
Stop it! Stop it! I'll do anything you want! Make the pain stop!
The sight of her cut a tiny path of awareness through the howling in his head.
"Nina…?" He heard his own words and realized the seals were gone. That gave him small relief and he took hold of that; focused on it and muffled the anguished cries in his mind.
She spoke but, again, sounded as if she ticked off bullet points: "You killed Scott. You're a murdering bastard."
He heard the raging hatred pervading her voice as if a fire burned inside and threatened to consume her.
"I don’t understand what's happening," he croaked through a dry mouth.
"I saw you kill Scott. I saw you kill him in cold blood. You didn’t think I’d remember but I have a clear memory now. I hate you!"
"Nina, listen, somehow they gave you-they gave you these memories. It's a lie."
He closed his eyes and heard Lori Brewer say, "She just a lonely little girl."
The Bishop walked into the room and quietly watched the exchange.
"Oh Nina, what have they done to you? I’m sorry…I’m sorry we didn’t find you quicker. It had to have been when the helicopter crashed. They got to you first."
"Go to hell."
"I care about you, Nina. I have for a while now. I just didn’t admit it to myself. Maybe if I had said something earlier. I’m sorry I let you down like I let Sheila down. "
Trevor did not see any of the telltale blotches on her skin.
"You don't have any blotches. You haven't started turning yet. You might still be saved. Fight them, Nina."
She ran a hand over her cheek as if searching for deformities.
The Bishop stepped forward and grasped her shoulders.
"It’s okay, my dear. You are getting your revenge."
Nina's anger returned. She glared again at Trevor and then stomped away.
The Bishop watched her go. "Amazing, isn't it, what these emotions can do to your kind."
Trevor spied the torture-spider creeping o the ceiling. The screams in his head grew louder. Soon they would grow louder to his ears, too. Nonetheless, he stiffened and tried to play his role.
"Who are you? Why-why have you invaded Earth? Who is Voggoth?"
"Oh blessed Voggoth! Your people often speak as if there is a part of your God in you, but that is not true. Voggoth gives of himself and spreads his word by spreading himself. Voggoth is the greatest of the nine. He was the first, he is immortal, and he remains the only true God. The others desire to be him, but they are unworthy."
Trevor trembled uncontrollably as the torture-spider stopped overhead.
"Soon Voggoth will encompass this world and many more like it. Then his glory will be even greater for he will be one of only eight and your people will be his children."
The torturer pounced, encircling the platform like a cage and brandishing a massive, fury orifice throbbing with vile liquid.
"This sensation will be quite disturbing, Mr. Stone. It may feel as if you’re being eaten, but rest assured it is only a feeling."
– The sun remained behind the eastern horizon yet licks of orange teased the sky. A mist hung over the lake and the cold morning dew made everything feel fresh and new.
The rescue force gathered on the grounds to the sound of freckle-faced Benny Duda-Stonewall's 12-year-old bugle boy-playing assembly on his trumpet. Or something like it.
Shep, Reverend Johnny, Stonewall, Ross and eight volunteers comprised Jon's team.
Shep shouted, "Okay, let’s do a little roll call. Ah, you there, get things started."
A Hispanic male saved from the Red Hands raised his left arm and called, "Sanchez!"
A man in his early thirties with a potbelly and a cowboy hat: "Name’s Gruder."
"Tolbert!" Cried a broad-shouldered black man who had served as a guard at the nearby Chase maximum-security prison.
The remaining five all belonged to Stonewall’s original troop.
A slightly older fellow with a bald scalp whistled and answered, "Whiskey!"
"Huh?" Shepherd tilted his head to hear better.
Stonewall clarified, "That’s his name."
"Oh."
Next came a black woman in her early twenties. Before she spoke, Stonewall McAllister said, "We are familiar with you, Miss Simms. Please endeavor to shoot the correct people."
"Don’t worry Garrett, I only shoot the ones who deserve it." She directed a wry smile and narrow eyes at him. Stonewall swallowed hard.
A burly man in a plaid shirt and hunting cap shouted enthusiastically, "Tucker! Sir!"
Stonewall said, "Mr. Tucker is an accomplished rider and a fair shot."
A big, middle-aged redheaded fellow said, "Boylen. Now get me a bigger gun."
An older brunette woman with fire in her eyes called her name; "Ames!"
Shepherd scratched his ear and told Jon, "That about sums it up."
Nine horses and two wagons lined the drive. Reverend Johnny loaded a last box aboard one cart. When he saw the stocks inside- including several large, tarp-covered objects-he said, "It appears we are bringing the All Mighty’s fury upon those godless bastards."
With Shep at his side, Jon Brewer tentatively approached a horse.
Shepherd asked, "Never, huh?"
"No. You?"
"Two years Philly mounted patrol," Shep beamed.
"I think I’ll stick to the wagon."
A "hey" from behind turned Jon around. Lori stood there, her hands wringing. She had that "see how strong I’m being" lie in her eyes.
"Hey," he echoed.
They looked at each other the way two people who have been together for a long time can look at each other and say a thousand words without a sound.
"I’ll be back."
"I knew you'd say that. Don't make it a lie."
"I love you, too."
She grabbed him with a hug; the strength of her grasp surprised him.
"I can be a real pain in your ass…" she started.
"I wouldn’t have it any other way," he finished and then boarded the lead wagon next to Boylen who held the reigns.
Tyr and Odin raced to the group and jumped onboard Jon's ride. They brought four Siberian Huskies with them and a couple of Rottweilers. Apparently, they were going regardless of what anyone else thought.
Spurs jingled and the clop-clop of horseshoes clattered on the drive as the train started off from the isolated estate toward the unknown wilderness of the new and deadly world.