Up From The Deep by Vaughn Jackson (highly recommended books txt) 📕

little. She frowned and shrugged. “Maybe so.”

Raymond put a hand on Arnett’s shoulder. The younger man cradled his head in his hands. He looked up with a pained expression.

“We have to get back to San Francisco,” Raymond said.

“The airport is going to be impossible,” Arnett muttered.

The creature screamed in the distance. The initial hush after the attack subsided and, in its wake, a more unsettling silence cloaked the city. There were no more sirens, no screams, no sounds but the roar of the fires and the earthshaking steps of the creature.

Ashleigh’s eyes never left the burning skyline. “Independent airfields? Military?”

The rookie cop returned his head in his hands and stared at the ground. Tears streamed down his face. He didn’t answer. “Truman. Shardik. Church.”

“Officer,” Ashleigh barked, jerking him by the collar. “Pull yourself together.” Her voice cracked but it got the desired effect. Arnett jumped and stared into her eyes. “Are there any smaller airfields we can use.”

“Oh, um, yeah. Hickam is nearby, it’s a military base. Shouldn’t you know that?”

“You needed to focus,” Ashleigh said, frowning. “Do you want me to drive?”

“No. I’m good.” Arnett sighed. “I’m good,” he repeated.

Ashleigh nodded sharply and climbed into the passenger side of the car. Raymond eased into the back seat, his pain forgotten amongst the rush of adrenaline, just as the engine roared to life. Six fighter jets screamed overhead as they peeled away from their vantage point. They heard the creature shriek a challenge as the first sidewinder missile roared towards it. Explosions rocked the ground, and Arnett struggled to control the small patrol car. The creature’s scream didn’t sound like pain. Its fury culminated in the sickening crunch of metal and a quieter explosion. The first plane to be destroyed in the conflict, and, Raymond assumed, not the last. They never heard the others go down, but soon the sounds of conflict died and a roar that oozed with the pride rang out through the air. Raymond turned in his seat to look out the window.

The creature surveyed the molten hole that had been Honolulu. New columns of smoke trailed into the sky. Six of them, from below the horizon. The creature leaned down and scooped up the remains of the squid carcass with its iron black claws. It spread its wings and beat them with a force like a hurricane, spraying magma all around it, before launching into the air and vanishing into the distance.

It’s over...for now, Raymond thought.

Chapter 6

Devonte pulled up the results of his scan. Four phone numbers matched the criteria. In Chicago. Connected to the chat app at times he and D-base normally talked. And visited similar sites as him. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed each number in order. A Middle Eastern man answered the first number and through a combination of bad connection and a thick accent, Devonte gave up a few minutes into the conversation. The second was an elderly woman who thought he was a telemarketer. He hung up when she began to read him her credit card information. The third phone number reached an automatic response of unavailable connections. Growing frustrated, Devonte dialed the last number.

“Hello?”

Deciding to go with a new approach, Devonte said, “This is Agent Edwards with the FBI—”

General MacPherson shot him a dirty glance. Devonte just shrugged. If it works...

He continued. “I’m calling—”

“Is this about my kid again?” A gruff voice cut him off.

“I’m sorry?” Devonte furrowed his brow.

“You lot already called once. I told you, she ain’t here.”

Devonte composed himself. “Well sir, I’m looking at my records here and I have no information pertaining to…”

“I told your partner, Agent Z, or G, or whatever her name was, the kid is in San Francisco. Left last week. Something about a giant monster fan club, or some shit.”

Devonte managed to keep his cool. “Ah, I’m sorry for the inconvenience. Could you please give me your child’s phone number?”

The man gave the phone number. “We done?”

“Yes. Thank you for your cooperation.”

The call disconnected with three consecutive beeps.

“Asshole,” Devonte whispered.

“Finding it hard to make friends while posing as a federal agent?” MacPherson said.

Devonte grimaced. “I got what I needed.”

“You found your friend?”

“No.” He held up a single finger. “But I am one step closer. D-Base was here in San Fran when they were taken, and I have their phone number.”

“You think they have their phone?”

“I think their phone won’t be too far away from them.” He typed the phone number into the computer, checking for the GPS location.

“Alcatraz?” Devonte scratched his head.

General MacPherson pushed him aside and peered over the monitor. “That’s not possible. That’s a major tourist hub.”

The blinking icon sat squarely in the middle of the ex-prison island.

“That’s what the locator says,” Devonte said, crossing his arms. “We have to go.”

MacPherson wrinkled her nose. “I’m not sure it’s such a good idea to go traipsing around such a populated area with a squad of soldiers. Mass panic is never fun.”

“And sneaking in after-hours would draw unwanted attention from Tempest,” Devonte added. He snapped his fingers. “I’ll go.”

“Absolutely not.”

“D-Base is my friend. I should be the one to get them.”

“You’re an idiot if you think you could just waltz in there and drag your friend to safety.”

“But—”

“Come with me,” she interrupted, turning and walking out into the hallway off of the command room. The two of them walked in a frustrated silence, Devonte clenching his jaw. He did his best not to audibly huff and puff.

“Stop acting like a child,” MacPherson growled. “It doesn’t suit you.”

Devonte held his tongue. “Where are we going?”

“The barracks. I know just who to send to rescue your friend.”

Devonte raised an eyebrow.

“You’ll see.”

The barracks smelled like a gym that missed its last two scheduled cleanings. Even MacPherson’s nostrils twitched visibly as they entered. The men fell into line, standing at attention. They looked about as Devonte expected. Large, muscle bound men with cropped haircuts and yesterday’s five o’clock shadow.

“At ease.” MacPherson waved her hand dismissively. “Captain Brannigan, step forward.”

Devonte hadn’t seen