The Things We Bury - Part 1: In Anticipation of the End of the World [Completed]

Chapter 3: The Big Show (Part 5 of 5)

It was the little things that R.J. noticed.  Tray's slump disappeared.  His back straightened and became rigid, just before he began rising to his feet.  Horus frantically moved his joystick around like he was working on the high score on an old Pac-Man machine.  Aikman was no longer looking at his terminal but was peering over it to get a glimpse through the window.  There was no noticeable change in Gracie, but considering he'd only seen her register emotions that varied from cold indifference to cold sarcasm, that wasn't surprising.

R.J. marched over to the glass and placed both hands on the sill.  It was almost a staged pose, the director telling him to look resolute and in command, but he was unaware he was doing it.

In the dimly lit enclosure, LARS was writhing on the pallet.  It looked like she was having a seizure.  She was in clear medical distress. A small tic in his brain started thinking they'd have to put a stop to the test and have her treated.  But that was insane.  There was nothing they could stop.  Even if he could push a button and put everything on hold, there was nothing that could be done to help her.  Her enclosure had been sealed until dawn.  No one in or out.  Even if she was dying in there, no one would be going to her rescue.

She was shaking rapidly.  An uh-uh-uh noise came out of her mouth.  Her skin looked blurry.  With her thrashing, it was hard to make out, but it was almost like there was a heat distortion rippling the air around her.

"This is it," somebody said.  It took a moment for it to sink in that it had been his own voice.

The room tensed. The people in the chairs stood and moved in closer.  There was a warmth of bodies behind him and a breeze of stale breath.

"Give that to me, old man," Aikman said, taking the joystick out of Horus's unsteady hand.  R.J.'s eye flickered to see the erratic reading on the EEG before returning to LARS.

There was a collective gasp, as a spasm flipped the girl over onto the floor. 

She landed on her hands and knees, still violently shaking.  A low moan escaped her and increased in volume until it reached a glass-shattering screech.  R.J. put a hand over his mouth and wiped off the nervous sweat that had formed on his upper lip.

He had thought about this moment a thousand times.  He'd envisioned every scene from every movie, imagined ways based on metamorphosis in nature, but when the transformation hit, it was so sudden and ferocious, everyone stepped back from the glass, including him.  Even Barbara Gracie slid her chair six inches away, grinding against the metal floor.

The creature burst out of the girl. 

Afterward, he would swear that the skin had been ripped apart – not shed but torn off her body like a thin layer of latex – an incredibly thin membrane that proved to be no match for the escaping beast.  But they only found clothes – just the girl's pajamas shredded and strewn around the enclosure.  When they watched the high-speed video footage, they saw the minutia of the transformation.  It was as though her body had turned to jelly and reformed itself with lightning-fast elasticity.

The creature had barely taken form when it was in motion.  It did a circle around the chamber, nothing but a haze of skin and fur.  Then it launched itself directly at the doors.  First, the one to the auxiliary hall and then the one back to the little girl's room.  It jumped about like a Ping-Pong ball. It was more a shadow of movement than a physical being.  Its next leap sent it hurdling at the wall sensor.  Its left shoulder slammed into it, and the black bubble of Plexiglas burst.

A bank of monitors went dark and electrical feedback sent a shower of sparks and the deep smell of ozone into the control room.  Aikman and Horus leaped from the console shielding their eyes from the explosion.