Dave Freedman - Natural Selection

After fifteen minutes, they reached the base of a steep hill, its incline like that of a staircase. The hill was filled with more of the same—charcoal-streaked redwoods, twisted plant skeletons, and smoldering superheated black air. Darryl led them up. “Stay alert here.”

Ten minutes later, they reached the top, and Jason felt like he was going to collapse. The heat was just stifling. But he knew as hot as it was for him, it was even hotter for the thick-skinned creature. He looked skyward, the cocktail of black smoke and streaky sunlight searing his eyes. The animal had to be up high. But he didn’t see anything unusual, just more streaked trunks and dulled rays of blackened sunshine.

“Anybody notice anything different here?” Darryl asked.

Bathed in sweat and miserable, Lisa turned. “Like what?”

“Like a temperature change.” Darryl studied the smoldering surroundings suspiciously. “It’s a little cooler here. You feel it, Jason?”

“No.”

“Phil?”

“No, but I saw in a file that this is one of the coolest spots in the forest.”

“Is that right?”

Phil nodded. “Apparently there’s a natural draft from the ocean.”

Darryl eyed a distant pile of debris directly ahead. “Jason.”

“Yeah.”

“How well does this thing sense temperature gradients?”

“Possibly very well.”

Darryl walked forward, stopping abruptly after a hundred feet. “Anybody smell something?”

Lisa wiped her forehead. “Like what?”

“Jesus. Like that.” It was right on the blackened soil, a carpet of black skin the size of a pool cover, spread out in uneven folds.

Jason crouched to touch it. He couldn’t believe it. He could barely lift it. It was thicker than his wrist, and it was only skin. And hot as hell, like burning rubber. He let go to avoid burning his hand.

“Shedding its skin like a goddamn snake.” Darryl looked around. “Think it’s still alive now, Jason?”

“I’m starting to wonder.”

Darryl turned back to the massive pile he’d been eyeing earlier, still directly ahead. “Get back in the circle.”

They walked forward, and Darryl just stared at the pile. There was something unusual about it. Since they’d been here, he’d seen hundreds of such piles, most just burned plant skeletons fallen on top of one another, a fern here, a rhododendron there, usually collapsed and strangely shaped.

But this pile was different. It didn’t look like burned plants—not exactly. The top portion did, with bent and twisted forms that allowed Darryl to see the sun-dappled smoke rising on the other side of it. But the middle and lower portions looked solid. Was something else there? Darryl wasn’t sure. He walked toward it.

THE HEAT was excruciating, unbearable, unfathomable. The predator couldn’t take it anymore. And yet it had to. The prey was very close now. Like the rest of its body, its eyes were covered by the scorching pile of debris it had plunged into. It couldn’t see them but it knew they were coming closer.

It remained perfectly still.

Then something moved. A tiny patch of black soot covering the predator’s closed right eye had just fallen. The animal could see them now. It just had to open its eye.

MOVEMENT. DARRYL Hollis didn’t know what had moved, but something. Walking closer, he stared at the spot. It was low on the pile, maybe two feet off the dirt. He thought a loose piece of debris had fallen, nothing else. But he stared at the spot anyway. And then he noticed it.

A reflection.

From a tiny pool of darkness.

He froze.

He was looking right into a large black eye.

BEFORE LISA knew what had happened, Darryl fired eight arrows straight into the pile. Instantaneously, the entire pile moved. Suddenly streams of black ash and twisted plants were flying everywhere, and a massive leathery white underbelly coiled upward. Darryl fired five times, the arrows plunging into the white like forks into a fillet….

The animal didn’t seem to feel them, bodily throwing itself into the air. Wings pumping frantically, it rose fast on the diagonal, away from Darryl.

He sprinted after it. It ascended immediately, climbing nearly straight up.

He fired four times. The arrows tore through the sun-dappled blackness like torpedoes, heading straight for it. All four plunged into its back. They had no effect. The pumping form rushed higher. And then Darryl realized where it was going. To the sky and then…

He reacted like lightning, sprinting back in the direction they’d just come from. “Come on! Come on! Come on….”

Suddenly they were tearing through the smoldering landscape. They had to get into the air to help Craig.

If they didn’t, the creature could fly anywhere. They ran as fast as they possibly could.

CRAIG SUMMERS yawned in the Sikorsky. He’d been tensed up and ready to go earlier, but as time had dragged on, his adrenaline had waned. He was exhausted from looking at black smoke. The clouds had grown considerably bigger—thicker, too—and staring into them as much as he had, his eyes hurt. His yellow chopper was facing the ocean, positioned to physically block the creature from flying inland if it actually appeared. He drummed his fingers. Nobody had called to let him know what was going on. Where the hell were they?

Suddenly he saw something within the blackness. Deep within it. He leaned forward. He wasn’t sure, but something appeared to be heading toward him. What is that? Then, very slowly, it came into shape. It was the size of a small airplane, but alive. A pumping vision. A monster.

“My God.”

The smoke cleared, and the predator emerged fully into the blue. It was moving fantastically fast, a flying roller coaster heading straight for Craig.

Mesmerized, he froze, just staring at it.

He didn’t realize it was flying away from the ocean.

“JESUS, come on !”

Darryl pounded his fist against the Vertol’s ceiling. Where the hell were they?! The chopper’s propeller blades were already thumping but Darryl didn’t see any sign of Jason, Lisa, and Phil in the smoldering forest. They had to get up to the sky right now. If they didn’t, Craig would be all alone up the there, and the creature could escape. He pounded his fist again. “Jesus, Jason, where are you?!”

“GET UP, Phil! Please get up!”

Jason pulled frantically on Phil’s sweaty arm, trying to yank him off the ground.

“I’m trying!” Phil had just fallen and was squirming in a massive pile of slippery black ash.

Jason suddenly saw that his bootlaces were undone. He spun to Lisa. “Go! Go right now!”

“Jason, I want to wait for—”

“We’re gonna lose this damn thing! Get into the air with Darryl! Go!”

Lisa sprinted away, and Jason turned back—just as Phil rapidly tied his laces.

“ Where are you, Darryl?” Craig drummed his fingers tensely, the creature rocketing straight toward his hovering bird, maybe four seconds from impact. He glanced down at the black clouds tensely, but there was no sign of the Vertol. He turned back as…

The predator rushed closer, the black eyes looking right at Craig through the window.

He swallowed nervously.

Then his eyes hardened. He looked right back at the creature. And didn’t blink. “No way in hell are you getting past me.”

He accelerated straight for the animal, picking up speed like a missile, a game of chicken in the air.

The predator didn’t change direction. Neither did Craig. They were going to collide….

LISA SPRINTED around a tree. Darryl was standing outside the Vertol now, torrents of black ash flying everywhere, frantically waving her forward. “Let’s go! Let’s go’s! Let’s—”