Jon Merz - Prey

She hoped so.

Mick brought his left hand up to his mouth, urging Julia to remain quiet. The sound grew louder now. It sounded like something scratching at the glass, a fingernail down the transparent pane perhaps.

It sounded long.

Drawn out.

From their position in the hallway, neither Julia nor Mick could see into the greenhouse. Mick had positioned them out here deliberately. When they’d set up the watch position earlier, he’d told Julia it didn’t make sense for them to actually be in the room itself.

“We don’t know what we’re dealing with. I’d rather not have something drop down on me once it realizes it might be walking into a trap. We’ll wait in the hallway and see what happens.”

The only place Julia wanted to be right then was back home in the United States. Safe under the flannel striped comforter that she’d had for five years, the kind where the stuffing had pooled to one edge, regardless of the waffle design. She didn’t love the comforter any less for it; she loved it all the more. And curling up under it on winter days made everything in the world seem…safe.

Instead, she thought, I’m thousands of miles from home. Down at the bottom of the world. All around me is ice. Snow. Cold.

And to top it off, some kind of creature was trying to break into the only piece of sanctuary they had.

There was an abrupt change in the sound from the greenhouse. The scratching stopped.

And a trickle of cold air issued out of the greenhouse door, tickling Julia’s hair, making shivers run up her spine.

It was inside.

She glanced again at Mick but he remained absolutely still.

Listening.

Why doesn’t he flip the switch now? Do it!

Another noise from beyond the door.

A scrape?

Another.

And another.

Julia remembered the scaffolding Mick had had to climb today to see the opening in the greenhouse roof. Was the creature climbing down it?

She stared at Mick. Flip the lights on!

Now!

But Mick stayed still. She wondered if he was breathing.

Julia tried to steady herself. Her heart sounded like thunder in her ears. The air in the hallway had grown colder now. Even with her jacket on, she still felt it.

All that Mick had on was a heavy turtleneck. How could he stand the cold?

There was a sudden thud in the greenhouse.

Whatever was in there, it had found its way to the floor.

Julia peered into the darkness of the greenhouse door. She wanted to cower in the recessed wall where she stood. She couldn’t see anything.

But she heard it now.

Moving.

Toward the door.

Toward them.

Mick never moved.

Julia stared at the blackness beyond the opening of the door. Could it see her? Could it feel them outside? Did it know it was walking into a trap?

When she finally saw the first glimpse of movement, she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her because she’d been staring so hard.

It was no trick.

And gradually the head emerged from the gloom beyond the door.

That was when Mick flipped the lights.

The entire hallway and greenhouse lit up like an mushroom cloud had just detonated. The next sensation Julia had was one of abject terror as she winced at the sudden bright light and the simultaneous exposure to the creature.

She saw it full on.

Bathed in the intense light.

It screeched.

Wailed.

The noise filled the hallway. The creature reeled back into the greenhouse, still screaming. One of its misshapen claws came up as if shielding it from the light.

Mick grabbed her by the arm. “Come on!”

Were they going back to the kitchen area?

No.

Mick was dragging them into the greenhouse.

Chasing the creature?

They ducked through the opening. Mick pointed. Thirty feet away, she could make out the creature scaling the scaffolding as easily as a spider. Its long limbs gripped exposed girders and moved its girth up toward the skylight.

And still it screeched.

At the top of the girders, it cast one final look back and wailed once more. Julia closed her eyes and saw a million flashes of memory cascade behind her eyes — she saw the dreams, the images of this continent. They flew across the screen of her mind’s eyes faster than she thought possible.

What was happening to her?

Mick shook her.

“Julia!”

She opened her eyes. The creature was still staring at her, its deep bulbous orbs probing. Finally, it broke the stare and slipped back out of the opening.

On to the roof.

Then it was gone.

The last of its screeches died as the cold Antarctic winds drowned out anything else.

“Oh my God.”

She looked at Mick. His face still looked hard. Determined. She’d never seen him look like that before. Was this some type of warrior conditioning he’d learned in special operations?

“You okay?”

She shook her head. “What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know.”

“The lights — “

“Yeah. They worked.”

“Lucky for us.”

“I don’t know how lucky we’ll be in the future.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mick shrugged. “Maybe it can adapt to whatever we throw at it. If it knows we know it’s sensitive to light, maybe it has some method of protecting itself from it.”

“Great.”

“Did you see the way it paused at the top there? Maybe the lights only work within a set range. Once it’s beyond that range, it can operate unaffected by it.” He looked at her. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You looked like you tuned out there for a second.”

“It…looked at me.”

“Yeah, it did.”

“I saw things. Memories. Dreams. I don’t know. I felt like it was…almost accessing my mind.”

“Maybe it can.”

She looked back up at the opening. “My God, what was it?”

Mick shook his head. “I don’t think we’ll have any more visits tonight.”

The sound of running feet behind them made them turn around. Julia saw Wilkins duck through the door.

“What the fuck?”

“We saw it.”

“Saw what?” Kendall strolled through the door as if nothing had happened.

“The creature,” said Mick. “It was inside.”

Wilkins nodded at the lights. “They worked?”

“Yeah. Fortunately.”

Kendall frowned. “Sure was a lucky thing that you thought of it, too, Mick. I’d sure love to know how you arrived at the idea they might be sensitive to light.”

“It seemed to make sense since it was coming at night.” He frowned. “How about you tell us why you always speak in plurals when we talk about this thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“The rest of us say ‘it’. You say ‘they.’ You know something about this thing that the rest of us don’t?”

“Of course not.”

Julia searched his eyes but found no sign that he was lying. A scumbag like Kendall, she reasoned, he could talk his way out of anything.

Wilkins leaned against the wall. “Well, what happens now?”

“I could use a break,” said Julia. “I think waiting for that thing to come in sapped the rest of my energy.”

“It’s adrenaline,” said Mick. “Happens like that to everyone.” He glanced at Wilkins. “You want to wake another team up and see if someone else will watch now. I don’t think it’ll be necessary. I doubt very much we’ll see out visitor any more tonight.”

“You mean this morning.” Nung poked his head through the entryway.

Mick grinned. “Yeah.”

“Me and Darren will take another spell of it anyway. Just to be sure.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “The remote work okay for you?”

“Like a charm.”

Nung nodded. “Good. We’ll need it if that thing comes back.”