the atomic bomb on Nagasaki and Hiroshima.”
“In spite of an agenda of misinformation and threats by plain-clothes military intelligence, such as when I and two of my men interrogated Ms. Davis. My apologies, but I was under strict orders to conduct, we needed to ascertain what she knew about the activities at the El Campo research center.”
“You see, our government felt that we had an advantage not yet shared by the Soviet Union. We not only collected the debris that scattered a wide swath cut in the fields of a ranch near Corona, New Mexico, in the summer of 1947. We found bodies. Small bodies, no larger than children, laid neatly across the ground.”
“One other, we presume the commander, had survived and was apprehended shortly thereafter in the immediate vicinity. The craft was taken to Roswell, then to Wright Patterson Air Force Base in Dayton, Ohio. From there, it was eventually taken to Area 51 for reverse engineering, so that we could harvest the technology. The pilot was taken in seclusion to the equivalent area for genetic research in the hills above El Campo, Puerto Rico.”
Odessa spoke up. “So, you’re telling me that the Chupacabra is an alien, like the little grays they’re always talking about on TLC and the Discovery Channel? Wait a minute. That means they got away from you, doesn’t it? Even back in the 1950s, when they were first reported in El Campo. You lost track of them, even then…”
“Partially, Ms. Davis. It wouldn’t have done us any good simply to take an alien and put it back in one of its own ships and send it into space. There needed to be human potential and control, a terrestrial mind in a body better adapted for the rigors of space flight at the speeds reverse engineering of their craft would allow us, we thought, as early as the 1970s.” The coroners gaped at one another as Jacobs drew in a quick breath and held it.
Roth interrupted, abruptly. “The military used German scientists to perform experimentation in genetic engineering, just as we were discovering the double helix and DNA back in the mid-1950s? That was pretty dangerous, wasn’t it?”
“Extremely, or so it would seem now, in retrospect”, the general agreed, reluctantly. “In trying to perfect a human/alien hybrid, we inadvertently developed a highly trained super soldier, complete with night vision and a chameleon-like ability to blend into its environment. Its humanity keeps it from selecting us as victims, although I doubt that it understands why.”
Odessa stopped the general as he sought to continue. “That would explain the glowing eyes and the overall appearance, but it’s been reported to have spikes along its back, with patches of what has been described as feathers and fur. Did they stop with humans, or are there other animals in the mix?”
“Good question,” General Wilkes agreed. “We found the alien DNA to be highly adaptable, probably in response to the space faring nature of its race. It could blend with whatever it sampled, and has evolved in part by ingesting the DNA of its victims and passing it along to the next generation. In case you haven’t noticed, Ms. Davis, there are subtle differences in the descriptions of these creatures. Some have wings, some snouts. Some have shown characteristics of yet other animals. The three clawed hands, feet, large eyes and proboscis are common to all of them.”
“I am disappointed that no one has yet asked about their mating habits and behavior. It is in this area that they are perhaps most like us. They bond for life, although they are asexual. Each specimen has a male and female counterpart, and they join to ensure the survival of their species. As hybrids, they are unable to breed, but they have found a way around the natural limitation of sterility. What we found this morning and took into isolation was a pupa, a Chupacabra encased in a sort of cocoon until it is ready to be hatched.”
“The Chupacabra will expel them instinctively and spontaneously, if they feel the life of the parent is in danger. So you see, deputy, the mother knew that the father, the protective strength within it, could not defeat you. It was prepared to die. We have taken the unborn Goatsucker to see where we went wrong and either bring it back under our control, or destroy the creatures as a race.”
Roth’s eyes grew large and he turned to meet the stricken gaze of the radio astronomer.
“But, you said the Chupacabra mates for life, and that they will do what’s necessary to ensure the survival of their young. If that’s true and somehow a mate is say, within thirty miles, it might learn that it had lost the mother of its young and come looking for its offspring. That’s also why you’ve come, isn’t it? Not just to take away the pregnant mother, but the father as well?”
“Very good, deputy Jacobs,” the general said with the first show of pleasure in his taut face.
“They are, by their alien nature, more like bugs than animals. The proboscis, the eyes, the lack of a discernable mouth, ears and nose; these are all characteristics of insects. They are like species of bees that know when one of their kind has been killed, where and by whom…”
The coroners, Oscarson and Klein, understood first what the general was not saying.
“That is why you need us, because the mate of the Chupacabra knows it died here by some broken psychic link, and that whether or not we remain in your protective custody, our lives are already in danger?”
General Wilkes nodded and motioned for a pair of guards to enter the room.
Jacobs was only fishing before, but he understood perfectly now that one creature could not have attacked the Syke’s bull at the T-Bar Ranch and the Rottweiller at the Third Round in the space of 24 hours. They shared a biorhythm and probably even gestated spontaneously at the same time. For all Roth knew, he could be dealing with another angry mother. Of course, they would know when they were out of contact with each other and why.
It would be coming for them as the captors and, ultimately, the killers of its mate.
“How long do we have?” Odessa asked, already dreading the answer.
“Nightfall,” General Wilkes replied. “The mate of the one you killed is already on its way here.”
ENDGAME
The death cry came as the piercing of an inhuman soul. Though still over twenty miles away and subsisting on fish, alligator and the occasional swamp bird, the remaining Chupacabra knew that it was suddenly alone. Others of its kind were now beyond sensing. The life of its mate had ended in violence and hatred. The creatures knew fear only as caution and Man as the provider and the creator. They were to be avoided at all costs. To be near them when the prey was taken was to be stung or bitten by their weapons, sometimes to death.
Never before had it sought out one of the human species to kill. It was forbidden to approach them, to harm them in any way. All of its kind understood and obeyed. Those few rogues were killed, not by their human tormentors, but by the other Chupacabra, themselves. There would be none to stop the Goatsucker now. It was alone in a vast and unknown land. They had ventured far from the islands of their birth when cast together, to seek out a life of their own. There was an unbreakable bond between mates, though neither required the presence of the other to reproduce. It was to assure the survival of offspring that they were bound, and the psychic link which was now broken.
The silence in its mind was maddening, like a desert wind filled with ghosts and shadows. It was not loneliness or revenge that drove it out of hiding in the blinding light of day, but survival of the next generation of its kind. One could not live without the other, although neither strayed within the territory of its mate but for one purpose:
Their sole purpose as mates was to bring together the spawn of each and leave them to live or die with the genetic enhancements of the animals acclimated or indigenous to the area. Adaptation was the key to survival, back to the stardust from which they came in another form, to be joined with humanity. The experimentation to create a hybrid was successful because it was inherent in the alien DNA, not because of men who dared to play gods. They did not create. They did not perfect. They simply facilitated the inevitable.
It ran on thick, heavily muscled legs or hopped like a kangaroo, the atrophied arms draw
n in against the narrow, ribbed chest. The head swiveled on a fragile neck, but the large, dark eyes did not blink as they averted to shun the golden amber of the mid-afternoon sun. It found man’s road and skirted the fences of Man’s land, including that of the ranch and the bull on which it preyed, three nights previous. It was hunted now, or at least watched. It was bred to vacate an area with its mate once it was seen, returning night after night until it was discovered or no food remained.
Its mate was dead, but the offspring sang to it in a mewling mind link. The distended belly of it ached in response as the life inside called out psychically to its future mate. They must be brought together.
There was not much time.
Due to the fallen condition of the door to Autopsy Room One, Roth, Odessa and the two coroners were sequestered into the adjacent autopsy room with a posted guard. A call was placed in the deputy’s behalf to Bill James in the Jefferson Sheriff’s Department that Jacobs was assisting the military in a special operation. The reason for the sudden presence of the U.S. Army was strictly on a need to know basis. James did not need to know, the general explained. Lacking natural curiosity, the deputy with two first names thought nothing more about it and did not interfere.
Klein and