Greg Cox - Godzilla - The Official Movie Novelization

Good , Ford thought, overcome with relief. Take care, bud.

The family moved off, seeking whatever help or safety could be found these days. Akio glanced back at Ford over his father’s shoulder before the family vanished into the crowds and confusion. Ford silently wished them luck. He figured the whole world could all use a little of that with warring monsters on the loose. The entire planet had just become a much more dangerous place.

Mankind was no longer the most dangerous beast alive. Not by a long shot.

Suddenly on his own, in the midst of strangers, Ford now had only had one thing on his mind. Scanning the crowd around him, his eyes zeroed in on a cell phone in the hands of a passing survivor. He rushed up to the man, who was wearing a soot-stained Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts. He was missing one sandal. Numerous small cuts and scratches marred his face. Ford guessed that he probably looked much the same.

“Are you getting service on that thing?” he asked

“No,” the man said, shaking his head. “Those things must have taken out every working tower. The pay phones don’t even work.” He eyed Ford hopefully. “Do you have a car?”

A car wasn’t going to do Ford any good. He shook his head and walked away from the other man, already forgetting him. He needed to get hold of Elle and let her know that he was okay and trying to get back to her and Sam.

She must be worried sick .

A contingent of U.S. military personnel, from every branch of the service, entered the tent. Ford hurried up to them. He approached an Army soldier, who had paused to let some injured on stretchers pass in front of him.

“Lieutenant Brody, U.S. Navy,” Ford introduced himself. The soldier looked up, seeing only a ragged figure whose torn and filthy civilian clothing had been through the wars. Ford hadn’t even shaved for days. “I was here on leave,” Ford explained.

The soldier nodded, understanding.

“Excellent timing, Sir.” He offered Ford a crisp salute. “Sergeant Morales.”

Ford was relieved that Morales, who looked to be about the same age he was, had not challenged Ford’s claim. He hoped the friendly soldier could be of assistance.

“I need to get to the mainland,” he said.

“Well, see, it really is your lucky day, Sir.” Morales grinned at Ford, who didn’t get the joke. “General Orders. All branches. Everything not tied down is moving east.” He chuckled wryly as he headed across the tent. “We’re all Monster Hunters now.”

East , Ford thought. Across the Pacific… after the creatures?

“Is that where they’re heading?”

The sergeant, although accommodating, was in too much of hurry to answer all Ford’s questions. He stepped lively to keep up with the other military personnel. “Our truck’s right outside.”

Ford hustled after him, even as his mind reeled at the alarming news he’d just received. Whatever relief he’d experienced from reuniting Akio with his parents was instantly dispelled by a growing fear for his own family’s safety. His worst fears were coming true.

The giant creatures were heading east… toward the west coast of North America. Toward Elle and Sam.

The observation platform overlooking the Saratoga’s flight deck, located on the carrier’s upper island, was nicknamed “Vulture’s Row.” The unnerving parallel with the crow’s nest back at the doomed Japanese base was not lost on Serizawa. A briny wind blew against him as he occupied the high balcony, distractedly twisting the stem of his antique pocket watch. The observation platform offered an excellent view of operations down on the flight deck, but he gazed out at the ocean instead, where Godzilla could be seen swimming across the Pacific.

The submerged leviathan was a great dark mass swimming beneath the waves. The peaks of his spiky dorsal fins sliced through the churning foam, directly ahead of the carrier fleet, which had to pour on the speed to keep up with the swiftly moving colossus. The Saratoga could manage a maximum speed of more than thirty knots but Godzilla was even faster. Unmanned aerial vehicles, designed for low-altitude surveillance, skimmed above the surface of the water like a flock of seabirds dogging an orca. The Saratoga and the rest of the strike group followed behind the undersea monster at what they hoped was a safe distance. To the mounting concern of everyone aboard, Godzilla remained on course for the west coast of the United States.

Which meant the MUTO was heading for America as well.

Frowning, the scientist put his watch away and descended several decks to the CDC, where the war room remained a buzzing hive of activity. Glowing monitors displayed flickering satellite imagery of the flying MUTO as well as live UAV footage of Godzilla swimming beneath the sea. Vivienne Graham stared in fascination at the visuals. Despite the undeniable danger to the human population, she was obviously intrigued by the unique organisms she had tracked and studied for most of her career.

Serizawa knew exactly how she felt.

“Last satellite tracks had the MUTO continuing due east,” Petty Officer Martinez reported from her post. She glanced up at an accompanying image of Godzilla. “For the moment, it seems like the big one is following it.”

Serizawa corrected her. “Hunting.”

A theory was coming together in his head, which seemed to be supported by the latest data. Once again, Nature held the key. The monsters’ current behavior was consistent with basic biology.

“All vessels maintain current standoff distance,” Admiral Stenz ordered, overseeing the operations. He remained in command of the joint forces’ response to the crisis. “Map this thing’s current course and bearing and start compiling a list of all possible solutions that will allow us to interdict before these… whatever they are… make landfall.” His tone and expression were equally grim. “I need options.”

The backlit table continued to plot out potential courses for both creatures, constantly updated to reflect the most recent intel. Dotted lines headed for the western seaboard, with possible landfall sites including Vancouver, Seattle, Los Angeles, and San Francisco, as well as locations in Peru, Panama, and Argentina. There were too many possibilities over too great a distance, making it difficult to plan a defense against the monsters’ eventual arrival. Serizawa contemplated the ever-changing lines on the map.

Ford Brody is from San Francisco , he recalled. He wondered if the young lieutenant had finally made it home, after burying his father at sea. I believe he mentioned a wife and child.

“Sir,” Martinez said. “Based on the current tracks, all our models have the targets converging on the US Pacific coast.”

Stenz scowled. He turned away from the screens to consult Serizawa.

“Doctor, are we certain this is the same animal from sixty years ago?”

Serizawa suspected as much. “Remains were never found,” he reminded the admiral.

“But if the MUTO is his prey,” Graham began, calling Serizawa’s attention back to the printout of the wave pattern Joe Brody had detected, “this signal shows a call. Why call up a predator?”

Stenz and others present threw out possible explanations, with even Martinez chiming in with something about echoes or audio distortions, but Serizawa no longer had any doubts or questions. There seemed only one obvious conclusion.

“It didn’t,” he said solemnly. “The predator was only listening. The MUTO was calling something else .” His reasoning led him to another ominous hypothesis. “The pattern,” he addressed Graham urgently. “Focus our search on Nevada.”