NorthWest (John Hazard - Book II) (27 page)

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Authors: JH Glaze,J.H. Glaze

BOOK: NorthWest (John Hazard - Book II)
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He searched the brush a short way downriver, looking for a tree branch to use as a club. “Yes, there is a God!” he called as his eyes landed on their salvation. “Canoe! Emily!” He ran to the aluminum canoe resting upside down on top of the paddles that stuck out from underneath. “Give me a hand, Em!”

Emily ran to him as he was grabbing the underside of the canoe. She helped him roll it over and flip it upright. Brushing aside the spider webs, they made a cursory examination of the inside of the canoe and found it to be in excellent condition. Even the paddles looked fairly new and unused.

“How do you think this got here?” she asked breathlessly tucking the paddles up under one arm. “You think this thing belonged to somebody at that campsite?”

“I have no idea, but I don’t care! Let’s get it in the water!” John said, already dragging it to the edge. “Pull!”

Both of them were exhausted and weak. They hadn’t eaten except for a few morsels back at the camp. Emily strained to manage the paddles and help John pull the canoe, so she tossed them into the boat and pulled as hard as she could. Her hand slipped as her foot lost traction sending her nose first into the sandy gravel. “Damn!” she exclaimed as she stood back up and got another grip.

“You all right?” John kept pulling and waded into the fast running water until the canoe was half way in. He went to help Emily steady the canoe as she climbed in.

A quick look over his shoulder let him know the fuckers were coming over the last hump of the downhill grade. They were staggered in a line that stretched out about twenty feet wide. They had to go now! He gave the canoe a hard shove and jumped in as it glided out onto the river and was caught in the current. Quickly, he steadied himself and sat down as Emily handed him a paddle.

John had only been in a canoe once before so he only had his instincts to go by. Steering was definitely more difficult than he remembered, but he’d never tried it in the rapid water of a river.  His previous experience was on a private lake with no wind, no waves, and no current tossing him around. That was recreational. This was survival.

The creatures at the front of the pack were at the shore now, soon to be followed by the others. They seemed to be in a frenzy as they pursued the canoe, running down the along the rocky shore. As they caught up even with the boat, at least five of them charged into the water at full speed.

Even in the heart pounding heat of the moment, John found it to be interesting, satisfying, and hilarious at the same time to watch them trip and sink like rocks. Even though the water wasn’t over their heads they flailed and drowned, not knowing they just had to stand up to save themselves.

Obviously, they had no concept of water, and no ability to swim. He could see their mouths gasping and the water filling them as their heads went under. Flailing arms tried without effect to claw their way back up to the surface as the swift current swept them downstream.

“What’s a matter, bitches?” John yelled at them. “Forget to wear your floaties?” Two more jumped in and sank straight to the bottom as the canoe floated away.

All of a sudden the others stopped as if they had learned from their lost siblings’ mistakes. One closest to the water let out a shrieking squawk, and the others turned as if in attention. Now, instead of charging into the river, they began following their prey along the shore once more.

“What are they doing, John?” Emily’s newly found hope reverted again to fright. “Do you think they are smart enough to figure out…”

“I don’t know,” John interrupted. “They must be intelligent to have gotten here in that ship. They created and used whatever that thing was that ripped our plane from the sky. I think right now they are in a crazed frenzy from their hunger and we are the only food on the menu!” He used his paddle to guide the canoe as the current carried them on.

He watched as the creatures followed along the bank of the river. He was hoping they would give up and turn back. There was a bump as the bottom of the canoe scraped across the top of a rock just below the surface, and John turned his attention back to the river. “I only counted about eight of them. Do you see any more?”

“No,” Emily was holding her hand above her eyes and squinting to get a better view. “Those eight are all I see.”

“Are there any more coming down from the woods?” John didn’t want to risk a spill in the river by looking for himself.

“No, I’m pretty sure there are only those eight.”

The monsters seemed to be communicating to each other, though the noise of the river and the bumping of their paddles against the canoe were enough to drown out the sounds they were making. The river was carrying them around a bend and they seemed to be headed into some kind of a valley. The creatures followed along, continuing to climb along the steeper banks while constantly monitoring the progress of the canoe.

The water was faster here and the aliens scrambled around trees and brush trying to keep up, but remained relentless in their pursuit. Perhaps they were waiting for an opportunity to strike. Maybe they were waiting for the food in the boat to become tired and pull up on shore. John was getting worried that they might not be able to travel fast enough to escape. “I need you to paddle, Em!” he called up to her.

“What if we just paddle into shore on the other side of the river and head into those woods?” Emily pointed at the shoreline where the river bank was more level than the one where the aliens continued their chase.

“We could do that, but I’m afraid those things will figure out how to cross. I’m not sure if we have the strength to run much farther if they do. It seems a little too narrow here to try it.” He worked his paddle to maintain their position in the center of the river.

“We need some kind of a plan, John. They seem to be up to something. One is running ahead and moving around in circles like it’s trying to figure out the best way to get to us.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she tried to keep watch on the cliff above them.

Emily planned ahead, envisioning a worst case scenario to figure out how she might react if somehow those monsters got into the boat. Just ahead of them, one launched itself into the air to do just that. It arced out over the water in line with the canoe.

Reflexively, John brought his paddle up from the water to try to deflect it should it successively manage the attack. Emily reacted quickly and shoved her paddle into the water to create some drag to try to slow the canoe just enough to make it miss its mark.

They watched holding their breath as the creature overshot its target and landed in the river. Water splashed about three feet up in front of the canoe and right into Emily’s lap. She squealed as the cold water hit her and turned her head around to look at John, hoping he was flashing a triumphant smile, but he looked terrified.

“Behind you!” he yelled.

There was the clawed hand of the alien hooked over the front of the canoe. As it attempted to pull itself up, the bow dipped from its weight. Unwavering, she lifted her paddle in a single motion, splashing water into the air as she swung. With a loud crack, she brought the paddle down and hit the monster in the side of its head. Spot on, it was a world class swing. A large gash opened across its face splitting its eye on impact and covering the end of the paddle with yellow and orange goo.

The canoe was rocking and Emily was losing her balance as she drew back and swung again. Another slash opened above its mouth spraying sticky orange blood at her as the creature lost its grip and slid into the water. There was a thumping sound as it passed under the canoe. John could feel it in his feet as they ran it over, and when he looked back, he watched the wounded creature thrashing around as it sank into the grayness of the water.

“Ho-ly shit! That’s my girl!” John shouted and began paddling again reinvigorated. The river widened as they rounded another bend. John maneuvered the canoe to stay as close to the lower bank and as far away from their pursuers as possible. 

“Those fuckin’ things never give up, do they?” he commented as they continued to float downstream.

“They must be starving all the time. It’s probably been a while since they’ve eaten.”  With that, she started paddling to help John keep the canoe on course.

“I think they ate one of their own just before they headed down the hill toward us. They can’t be starving already, can they?” John twisted his paddle in the water to keep them floating in the right direction. “Is it my imagination or are we moving faster now?”

“Ahem, could it be because one of us is paddling? Hmm?”  She was being a smartass and he loved that about her.

“Oh really.” He made a face at her. “I don’t think that’s the only reason. Do you hear that?”

“I don’t hear any…” and then she did hear it. The sound of rushing water was growing louder with every passing moment.

The river took them around the next bend, and they were soon faced with the terrifying truth. 

 

Fifty One

 

Macy’s assistant had followed instructions upon hearing that the flight had gone missing. She had made calls to the people on the emergency forms. Still, she felt useless where she was, so she had gone home, packed a few things and hit the road for Seattle. The least she could do was to go there and help in the search. Without Macy, there was no department, and without the department, no job for her. She didn’t care too much for Macy – her career was on the line.

A search team had been assembled out of the small community airport near Seattle. It consisted of two small civilian aircraft and a helicopter that was leased to the forestry service by a company that used it to inspect high voltage electrical lines.

Yesterday, a pilot had volunteered to assist in the search and had flown for about six hours before packing it in. Today, the helicopter had been hired by a lone citizen for the same purpose, but the guy was searching for an old friend who had been lost with the flight. That friend was John Hazard.

Now they were well into the second day of searching along the flight plan filed by Mark Woo. The two small plane pilots had given up the search for the day and headed back to base. They had logged about eight hours in the air, and were tired. Even though they knew there were lives at stake, they were merely volunteers. Not only had they sacrificed their time, but they had sacrificed their fuel and wear and tear on their planes. In these tough times, neither could afford to continue any longer without compensation. They would take it up with the head of the local FAA office first thing in the morning.

The helicopter team, on the other hand, had started the search well before dawn and the pilot was in his tenth hour. The chopper was carrying Frank DeMint, a friend of John’s from his military days.

Frank had been contacted by Macy’s assistant who had used emergency information that had been collected weeks earlier. The simple release form was meant to list family, but John had filled in the blank with Frank’s name. After all, if some shit went down, would his younger pot-smoking brother even bother to take a minute to care?

As soon as Frank had heard that the plane had gone off the radar, and John was missing somewhere in the forest, he gathered up his gear and hightailed it to Seattle. He had arrived at midnight on the very first day of the search. Once there, he used some of his connections to grab a seat on the search chopper.  Now here he was, hanging out the side door with his hi-power binoculars, scanning the land below, looking for his friend.

“Frank, how much longer are we gonna stay out here today?” He heard the pilot’s voice through the headset. “This shit is wearing me out.”

“I want to stay out till just after sunset if we have the fuel. Every minute is critical if there’s any injury, and I don’t want to miss an inch of this place if John is alive out there.” He lifted the binoculars back up to his eyes. “Hey, you say we’ve covered the whole flight path. How wide was the sweep this time?”

“We’ve been crisscrossing at about five to seven miles out.”

“Let’s go to fifteen. I have a gut feeling that the pilot didn’t follow his own flight plan. I know you aren’t getting much for this gig, so I promise I’ll make it up to you when we find ‘em. Trust me.”

“And if we don’t find them?” The pilot shot a concerned look back at him.

“Dead or alive we’re gonna find that bastard, and that’s just the way it is! No Marine left behind!” he barked into the mike.

“You got it, sir!” and the pilot banked sharply to extend their range.

“Where the fuck are you, John?” Frank muttered to himself as he resumed scanning the endless green canopy below.

 

Fifty Two

 

John and Emily were sizing up the rapids ahead of them. They were still maneuvering through the slightly choppy water, but farther out, they were definitely headed into trouble. To one side of the river bank, there were a half dozen creatures doggedly running along beside them. They remained trained on the canoe, even as they stumbled along the rocky embankment.

On the other side of the river, where just moments before had been a flat sandy beach, was now a steep rocky cliff. This would allow them no opportunity to get the canoe out of the river and onto the shoreline. They were going to have to ride out the rapids.

“I’m going to steer us through this, Em. Sit on the floor and hold on. It will help with our center of gravity and maybe keep us from tipping over.” He dug his paddle into the water, testing his steering acumen in preparation for rapid water.

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