The Shoebox Pursuit - Part 1 - Monsters and Machines

CHAPTER THREE

  Scarcely an hour had passed. Under the protective cover of clouds the squad had retreated back to their campsite - a small, unwelcoming area, placed deliberately next to a river and offering little more than a few ragged tents, giving them shelter from the rain that had decided to come down, heavy and fast.

  The soldiers busied themselves, reloading guns, packing grenades, and shovelling down what little food they had, with greedy hands - preparing to move out at daybreak. In the heart of camp, amongst the controlled bustle, stood a slightly larger, slightly grander tent than the rest - tall, crooked, with a dim light leaking from the crack in the entrance.

  Inside, the sound of the rain beating down on the fragile structure was surprisingly loud, with water seeping in here and there from above. Charlie paced the tent, his hands behind his back. He was quiet, and absorbed in his thoughts. Yankee and Doodle however sat reasonably relaxed at a small table playing a fluffed game of Poker and laughing merrily between themselves. The young man apparently named Billy Random sat slumped in a chair, his hands tied behind his back and his head hanging low, still unconscious. Specks carefully, yet enthusiastically inspected the arm, his excited eyes flicking from side to side as he studied the apparatus.

  ‘What’s the half-time score, Specks?’ asked Charlie.

  ‘Sir?’ replied the geek, a little confused, and preoccupied with his studies.

  ‘What’s your conclusion thus far?’

  ‘Oh. Right. It’s remarkable,’ he began, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. His voice was high, his speech fast. ‘It’s made of no metal I’ve ever seen before. The craftsmanship is out of this world. It operates just like a typical arm. These ball-bearings work just like the shoulder and the elbow joints. Better in fact! Whilst the metal rods replace the humerus, radius and ulna. I mean… Wow!’ Specks couldn’t help but notice the blank expressions on everyone’s faces. ‘The rods replace the bones,’ he clarified. ‘It’s significantly harder than steel, yet vastly lighter than titanium. The design is flawless. It appears to have been seared into the socket perfectly, with no signs of the body trying to reject the implant or…’

  ‘What’s it for?’ interrupted Charlie.

  ‘Erm… It’s an arm, sir,’ replied Specks, a little unsure of what to say.

  Charlie didn’t like that answer. As a matter of fact, he didn’t like any of this one bit, but he wasn’t willing to let his men see him ruffled. He brushed his hands through his mousey blonde hair, desperately trying to straighten out his thoughts. Gently he raised Billy by the scruff of the neck and lifted his head. He was a good looking young man, despite the cuts and grazes.

  ‘What are you, boy?’ he whispered.

  He let go of the back of his neck and watched it slump back to its original place.

  ‘Looks like you don’t know your own strength, sir,’ remarked Yankee.

  ‘You’re telling me. What were you going for? A home run?’ added Doodle.

  The brothers sniggered, but one quick look from Charlie instantly silenced them.

  ‘I say we kill him,’ said Yankee, clearing his throat in an attempt to act more serious. ‘Could be dangerous.’

  ‘I hear that!’ agreed Doodle, slamming down his cards on the table.

  ‘Out of the question,’ said Charlie without deliberation.

  ‘Why?’ asked the brothers simultaneously. Charlie turned his head and looked at them both, raising his eyebrows in surprise at the question. ‘Er… Why, sir?’ they finished, shamefaced and hiding themselves back in their card game.

  ‘Because,’ began Charlie, standing up and walking over to them. He picked up the deck of cards and began shuffling through them. ‘He may be yet another one of ‘His’ projects. And if he is… then he might be our key to unlocking everything. Play our cards right…’ he snatched two cards from the deck and flicked them at the brothers, hitting them square between the eyes. ‘He could lead us straight to him!’

  The mood went grim. Just the thought of ‘Him’ and ‘His’ projects was enough to depress even the highest of spirits. But multiplied with the threat of the Nazi-wolves almost literally breathing down their necks, and entangled with the abrupt arrival of this strange young man, it was a hard truth to ignore.

  ‘And this hand… talk about impressive,’ continued Specks, who had not stopped his examination, and now had a permanent bug-eyed look on his face.

  ‘Specks. Your excitement is starting to concern me,’ remarked Charlie, throwing the cards back on the table and letting the brothers continue with their game.

  ‘Yeah,’ interrupted Yankee. ‘Ain’t seen you this excited since we encountered that army of goddamned midget Aztec people.’

  ‘They were hilarious,’ laughed Doodle, sifting through his cards. ‘Remember the one that had a thing for me? Talk about mental!’

  ‘Anyone taking a fancy to the likes of you is definitely mental,’ his brother chuckled. ‘And don’t forget that American kid with his scientist friend. Reckoning they’d been travelling through time in a car or something. Crazy cats!’

  Charlie humoured Specks’ excited mumbles and went to see what he was so captivated by. The geek took his Captains hand and placed it on Billy’s own gloved hand.

  ‘Feel that? Soft, right?’ asked Specks. Charlie nodded in accord. ‘But watch this.’

  Specks took a small blade from the side and pushed it firmly into the glove.

  ‘As you can see, the rubber folds to pressure, much like our own organic tissue. But…’ Specks removed the knife. The rubber bounced back, completely unmarked. ‘It’s impenetrable. It does exactly the same job as flesh. But whereas flesh has a resistance point, this does not. It’s infinitely better. Outstanding!’

  ‘Does the glove come off?’ questioned Charlie, his voice sounding a little concerned, in no way sharing Speck’s enthusiasm.

  ‘No. It’s sealed perfectly. And I can only assume that underneath this is a skeletal frame of the human hand.’ Specks looked at Charlie over the top of his glasses. ‘Captain, this was designed by a brain far greater than mine. And built by hands more skilled than any I’d like to imagine.’

  ‘Is it one of ‘His’ projects?’ asked Charlie, his tone sharp.

  Specks shrugged his shoulders in answer. Charlie stood up and walked back and forth, growing increasingly unhappy with the situation. The room went very quiet, - the men knew all too well when not to disturb their Captain.

  ‘So, let me get this straight,’ he began after a long time thinking. ‘I have thirteen men left. We’re five days from friendly territory in any direction. We’ve got a group of werewolves chasing us down…’

  ‘Goddamned Nazi-werewolves!’ emphasised the brothers.

  ‘… Every step of the way,’ continued Charlie, ignoring them. ‘And now I’ve got a half-man, half-machine… thing, for lack of a better word, sitting in my chair, which I don’t know what to do with.’ He went quiet, leaning on the tent pole, staring at nothing, his arms crossed. ‘The folks back home are never going to believe this.’ Charlie held the dog-tag into the dim light of the lantern burning above. ‘And what kind of a ridiculous name is Billy Random?’

  Unpredictably Billy grunted, capturing everyone’s attention. His gloved hand clenched firmly, causing Specks to back away, his alarm greatly overwhelming his curiosity. The brothers each placed a hand on their pistols, their fingers gently hovering over the triggers, yet they continued to slam down cards, their eyes flicking between their game and their prisoner. But Charlie went straight in, kneeling in close to the young man. Though his head was still hanging down, he could see his eyes were open - they were blue.

  ‘Where is she?’ muttered Billy, barely audible.

  ‘Excuse me?’ whispered Charlie. He lifted up Billy’s head, trying to make eye contact with the man, but his gaze was disorientated and unfocused. ‘Come on. I didn’t hit you over the head that hard, boy. Wake up.’

  Charlie slapped Billy across the face a few times.
Nothing.

  ‘Actually, sir,’ said Specks, unable to help himself, ‘it’s far more likely this is just delayed concussion from his crash. You see, when the human body suffers an impact of such measure it can cause a variety of postponed repercussions…’ Charlie gave Specks the look. He stiffened up and abruptly ended his lecture. ‘Shutting up, sir.’

  The brothers chuckled to themselves, watching the geek muttering away to himself fretfully. Charlie turned his attention back to Billy, holding his face firmly up to the light to get a better look.

  ‘Who are you?’ asked Charlie, his voice a little irate. ‘Where are you from?’ he continued, his squeeze on the man hardening. ‘Why are you here?’ he asked, his teeth gritted. But Billy’s eyes simply rolled around the room, stopping momentarily on Charlie, before flickering shut.

  ‘He looks just like you,’ he mumbled lastly, the words unclear.

  Charlie let the young man go, and took a few confused steps back. Was that meant for him? But there was no time to think on it. The sound of water pounding on the roof of the tent ceased, catching Charlie’s attention straight away. The rain had stopped, and the silence it left behind was unsettling to say the least.

  ‘Storm’s over,’ said Doodle.

  ‘Actually,’ said Charlie, his eyes gazing upwards, ‘I think it’s only just beginning.’

  ‘No, sir. It was only a matter of time. Rainfall can only last so long,’ started up Specks innocently, playing with his glasses and studying the remaining drips falling into the tent. ‘You see, the water vapour in a cloud only has a certain amount of…’

  ‘Shut the hell up, Specks,’ yelled the brothers in unison.

  Charlie turned on the spot and slammed his fist down on the brothers’ card game.

  ‘Get the men together now,’ he ordered.

  ‘Woah. Take it easy Cap,’ said Yankee.

  ‘Yeah. What’s the big deal?’ added Doodle, grabbing at the airborne cards.

  Charlie grabbed Specks and yanked him into the huddle.

  ‘No rainfall means no clouds,’ began Charlie, snatching the lamp from overhead and placing it on the table. ‘No clouds means no blanket of cover.’ He raised his voice as he went on. ‘No blanket of cover means one large inconvenient moon in the sky.’ He stood back and waited for the boys to cotton on. But they were too slow for his speed. ‘And what does one large inconvenient moon in the sky equal?’

  Unfortunately he didn’t need to finish the rest of his speech. But his point was clear. From far off in the distance a spine tingling chorus of howling echoed down the hills and throughout the camp, stopping every soldier in his tracks - everyone knew just what was coming next.