Dave Freedman - Natural Selection

She covered her eyes and ran into the black. As she got into the Vertol, they immediately started rising. Very fast, like a fighter jet at takeoff. Lisa felt like she might vomit and was suddenly blinded by black smoke. Then the smoke cleared, and they shot into the blue.

Darryl turned frantically. But where was Craig? Where was the creature? He didn’t see them anywhere.

CRAIG SUMMERS opened his eyes. He didn’t know what had happened. He was still airborne, but where was the Demonray? He frenetically searched everywhere—left, right, down, behind, above. Where was it? He looked straight ahead. The Demonray was flying away from him, toward the ocean. Suddenly the big Vertol shot past Craig’s chopper and Darryl was in his headset. “We got it now, Craig, we got it. Go get Jason and Phil.”

Darryl easily caught up with the creature, nosing just a few feet behind it, driving it toward the sea. The animal already looked tired, and Darryl told himself this wasn’t going to be hard at all. Then he realized who he was flying with. Lisa Barton was still breathing heavily, her white skin reddened, her hair dotted with black ash. Until now, she’d performed fantastically—bravely, admirably. But now she had to take it up a level. Perhaps ten levels.

“Soccer Mom, you’re gonna have to take this helicopter’s controls soon.”

“Yeah, right, Darryl.”

Darryl turned to her, and he didn’t wink. “I’m serious. We’re ending this right here, and I can’t shoot while I’m flying. Get ready. You’re going to take the controls.”

“COME ON! Come on! Come on!” Craig watched tensely as Jason and Phil rapidly climbed the ladder he’d just sent down. When they got in, he spun back. “Get the ladder up! Switch is over there!”

They started ascending, and Phil just pulled the ladder in bodily. When he finished he noticed Jason, clearly doing anything not to look at him. “Jason! I just want you to know how sorry I am!”

Hair blowing, in the swirling wind, Jason simply turned to him. He didn’t say a word. It was all in the look.

Craig suddenly spun back to them. “Close the goddamn door!”

Phil tossed the ladder aside and slammed the door closed. Then they really started moving fast.

“DARRYL’S GOT it.” In the passenger seat now, Jason saw it clearly as they screamed toward the ocean: the lumbering Vertol had driven the predator out to sea. A few hundred yards offshore, the Demonray was no longer flapping but gliding back and forth in uneven lines. It looked tired, like it didn’t know what it was doing, the giant jungle-green bird blocking its path back to the land. The Sikorsky sped forward. It hovered to a stop next to the Vertol when Jason glanced over and saw who was at the controls. “Is that… Lisa?”

IN THE back of the Vertol, Darryl leaned up front. “You OK?”

At the controls, Lisa nodded, tense but composed. “You’re right. Holding it steady’s not that bad. Just make sure I don’t have to move it, Darryl. We’ll both die in a hurry.”

Darryl pulled a headset to his ear. “Craig, you see who’s at the controls over here?! If that thing goes anywhere, anywhere at all, you take care of it.”

“Got that.”

Darryl glanced outside. “We’re gonna end this now anyway.”

Lisa didn’t doubt it. Mounted near the door was a truly frightening-looking piece of equipment. The “harpoon gun” was taller than she was, a heavy piece of steel with two elasticized cables as thick as baseball bats and an electric motor to pull the projectile back. Lisa thought the creature was in trouble.

The headset crackled. “Want anyone to shoot from my bird, Hoss?”

Darryl paused. His equipment alone would certainly be enough to kill the predator, but why take chances? “Tell Jason to shoot. Wait for me to fire first. Over and out, Craig.” He tossed the headset and put his hand on the door. “You ready for this, Soccer Mom?”

Lisa’s eyes hardened. “Go ahead.”

As the wind rushed in, Darryl turned forward. “You still OK?!”

“Fine! Let’s get going!”

Darryl didn’t need to be told twice. He moved rapidly. On the far wall were two dozen extremely dangerous-looking projectiles. Technically they were harpoons, originally designed by a Japanese weapons manufacturer to shoot whales. The projectiles were eighty pounds each, six feet long, and had tips as sharp as broken glass. Darryl lifted one, loaded it, then pressed a button. In an instant, an electric pulley similar to a crossbow’s pulled the spike back until the cables were taut.

Then he aimed at the predator gliding below.

“PLEASE HOLD on to that.” Jason pointed to the unwound ladder at Phil’s feet. “I don’t want it blowing in the wind when I open the door.”

Phil quickly shoved it under his seat.

“You got it?”

“Yeah.”

“Here goes….” Jason opened the door, and an explosion of wind blew in. He grabbed his rifle, then, over the wind, just watched the predator gliding back and forth, laboring mightily and visibly exhausted. Jason tried to see its eyes. He only caught glimpses but thought they weren’t moving, like the creature wasn’t thinking. Jason saw it plainly: the Demonray was physically weak, trapped, and vulnerable. He turned as Darryl aimed a truly horrifying piece of steel right at the animal. The sharpened stake looked like it could kill an elephant. Jason knew Darryl wouldn’t miss. It’s over, he thought. He removed the safety from his rifle, then aimed. He waited for Darryl to fire first.

THE STEEL stake exploded away, rocketing toward the animal like a missile.

The predator made no attempt to evade it. In its weakened condition, it simply continued gliding, completely unaware. The stake plunged three feet deep into its right side and it suddenly began jerking in violent, spasmodic contortions.

In the other chopper, Jason didn’t hesitate. He checked his aim carefully. Then fired eight times. Six bullets entered the head just above the eyes and the animal continued to contort.

In the Vertol, Darryl rapidly reloaded, then aimed again. Voom! On a line, another stake rocketed down. The projectile plunged into the Demonray’s left side, and the predator suddenly contorted even more wildly, speared symmetrically, torrents of thick red blood gusting into the wind.

The wind blowing into his face, Darryl looked down cruelly. The animal that had killed his wife was about to die itself. He reached for the next spear, but it rolled away….

In the other chopper, Jason suddenly felt a tinge of worry. He hadn’t taken his eye off the creature and for some reason it abruptly seemed dramatically calmer. It was as if the animal had been startled by the first shots but had quickly gotten over it. It wasn’t jerking spasmodically anymore. Incredibly, with two steel harpoons sticking out of it, it was gliding evenly. Watching it, Jason realized the harpoons were piercing the deepest part of its body but not its actual wings. The two projectiles really didn’t seem to be bothering it.

Then the giant head moved, and Jason got a glimpse of its eyes. His stomach turned. The eyes were alive now—and looking down at the sea. Why’s it looking down there ? The animal seemed to be eyeing the surface, studying it even.

Craig spun around. “It can’t breathe down there, right?!”

Jason shook his head over the wind. “I don’t think so!”

“Then what the hell’s it doing?!”

“I’d say looking for a way out!!”

The Demonray suddenly darted inland, toward the forest.

Like lightning, Craig jolted the chopper lower, cutting it off—and causing Phil to kick the ladder from under his seat. They watched it glide away… and didn’t notice the ladder fly out the open door….