Colby, It's us...
As we came closer to our destination, I felt no closer to understanding this situation. I rifled through my codex for information lining up with that beast. I may have been less troubled to find something. I remained cheery, though, because finding nothing is something. “That Creature is off world.” I piped up, after a long stretch of silence, “I can’t confirm it’s origin.” A moment later, “Say, umm… have you two eaten any of Michelle’s dishes, recently?”
“Uhh, what? I took a bite of that casserole she left out. Just one, because it was absolutely disgusting. It tasted like rust and vinegar.” She looked visibly disgusted, “that was a long time ago, though.”
“I don’t know. It wasn’t that bad, Shay. I had a plate of it. It did have a metallic taste, but I covered it in Siracha.”
“Was that, specifically, a recipe using Blood Maggots?”
“That b*tch made that shit out of maggots?” She dry heaved, swerving the car accidentally, “what the f**k is wrong with her.” Tom, behind her, made that face you make when you are positively considering something.
“Bugs are a great way to have an earth conscious renewable food source, Shalaly’qua.”
“I don’t want to hear you get on this conversation again, Thomas, I’m ‘a pull this damn car over, boy. Quit it.”
“Take the next exit in 2.1 miles, where you will take a right. Continue for 10 miles.”
“All I’m saying is that our planet needs help. Cows create green house gasses with their farts. If we all just ate a few bugs now and then, we could really cut out a lot of unnecessary methane.”
“Bro, no, like all the plastic in the oceans come from like, two f**king rivers in China.” She accentuated with claps on the last five words, “How is eat’n a plate a maggots gonna do a damn thing with that, huh? We was eating meat since the beginning of time, dude.”
“Alright, listen. We’re going to need to calm down and figure this out. I suspect, and it’s becoming increasingly obvious to me, that Michelle’s new ingredient is off world, as well.”
“So, the maggots is aliens?” She gripped the wheel, shaking her head. “From where, Mars?”
“Heh," Tellurius smirked, then coughing to hide it. “A-hem.. no, likely not.” She looked at him, perplexed. “The Martian biosphere is considered to be terrestrial. This classification of creature likely resides elsewhere.
“I ain’t prepared for all of this, man. How come we don’t know all this? My intersectional studies professor sai-”
“With all due respect, ma’am, you spent every moment of your adult life being instructed and guided by a sophisticated and robust Lie Machine. I’m literally the only person in your life that has any clue what’s going on and is trying to keep you from ending up like your late friend, my sincere condolences. Every single professor you ever have met would sell you out for a few more dollars in their pension after they get bored with their tenure of producing debt-enslaved disinformed stooges. They are useless trash that will end up in the grinder when the machine is ready to cast them away, pension and all.” I sat back, adjusting my coat. “We’re on a country road in the middle of nowhere. You’ve trusted me this far, right?”
“I trust you, Tellurius.” Tom chirped.
“Aight… Where to next, then?”
I gestured to a dirt road turning off into a tree line. “Turn there.”
We pulled up to a shack: a single wide trailer home, windows boarded up, a blue tarp covering the far side. A radio tower loomed over from the backyard, outlined by the midnight blue river of stars above. The sedan drew to a stop, dull yellow headlights beaming through the dust stirred up from the gravel driveway. Stepping out of the car, a generator hummed, muffled by the freshly dug pit where it sat. “Okay, Colby has agreed to help us. PLEASE be nice. And by nice, I mean calm and predictable. I believe he will be able to help us also with that thing.”
“Wait, this is the ‘Crab People’ guy?” Tom looked concerned.
“Yes. He’s under a lot of stress, okay?” Stepping up to the door, I knocked gently.
We stood for a moment, the cool night’s sounds drowned in the soft hum of the generator. tap tap.
“Colby… it’s me.” I whispered. Creaking footsteps approached. Eyes peered through a slot that snapped open. “…Well?”
The door cracked and groaned open. “Hey, uhh.. come in.” The voice responded. His home was decorated with piles of newspapers, trash and electronic devices. There were tv screens and wires laying over the desks and unkempt stacks of what he would call evidence, connecting humming computers. His primary workspace seemed usually messy, drawers open, papers rifled through.
“Uhh, y-yes, of course. Always Busy.” Colby replied. “So, uh, w-what brings you here?”
“I’m back… with our friends. I found them at Tom’s house…” I trailed off in suspicion. He looked at Tom and Shalaly’qua. “Oh, that’s right. You have never met them in person.”
“Yes…” He sighed in relief, laughing as he wiped his brow. “Nice to meet you, I’m… Colby.” He went back over to his desk, looking at paperwork, “So, what did you find? other than, umm.. our friends?”
“I found them on the tail end of a shocking discovery, Colby.” I followed him to his desk. “Gary is dead.” Colby exclaimed flippantly. “He was eaten.”
He turned around. “That’s terrible, was he the Entre or the Dessert?” A fist pounded on the front door.
“What?! Excuse me?” Shalaly’qua growled, restraining herself.
“Oh, is that another friend?”
I headed over to the door and opened it, a man stood on the step. “What are you doing here, Tellurius? How did you get in?” Colby asked.
I stood still. My eyes grew wide. Tom screeched! Turning around slowly, a gun was drawn on me. The Imposter groaned, his face twitching and writhing. It grinned, showing teeth sharp and maligned. Its face changed, pale green and craggy. “Where is she?” Its voice was gravelly and hoarse.
“I-I don’t know.” I stood still, planning my next move.
“I’m sure she’ll turn up. We aren’t happy about what you’re friend did. We’re going to pay them a visit.” Its grin grew. It held up a device, wiggling it in its hand. I would call it a smartphone for an easy approximate comparison in function, but it’s not like its a Samsung S10 or whatever.
“He’s from the Th’tauth Consortium, Tellurius…” Colby whispered from behind. He spoke louder, “I have information-” The Imposter fired a laser pulse and struck Colby in the chest.
“Shut up, Slime-” I drew my weapon and fired. It gagged, choking on blue ooze. It dropped to its knees, falling flat on its face. Smoke wafted out of a burning hole from its back.
I rushed over to Colby, “Shit!”
“Hey, it’s alright, man… look… in.” Through heaving coughs, he continued, “Look in my drawer, there. It’s from Salshakgar.”
“المدخل في أعماق(al-madkhal fe amak)?” I asked. He nodded, sighing. He smiled, nodding again with reassurance.
His eyes closed.
Tom and Shalaly’qua stood somber, “What that mean, T?”
I hurried to his desk, flipping through tabs on manila file folders. “S. S. Salshakgar, there… Th’tauth… Tom, grab its computer.” We had to leave. I’m certain the others would not like my marksmanship. What do they want with Michelle? It’s not like she knows where those Maggots came from, though she may know where Anders would be. I’m not sure how long she will be coherent. I wonder if they think the same?
“Shalaly’qua, Thomas, We need to leave.” I tore though Colby’s closet, “I have to get supplies.” Behind a row of hanging shirts, a dim blue lit number pad awaited a passcode.
beep. beep. beep. beep. beep. Passcode Accepted. ding.The closet shifted, revealing a small room panic room. Among the piles of MREs and spare clothes, stacks of ammunition wreathed a wall of various modern firearms. Shaking out a duffle bag, I browsed the selection. I took common caliber pistols as well as AR-15 platform rifles. Though these won’t help much against that beast, however they will be more than sufficient for the next Th’tauth assassin. Of course, what WOULD be helpful against it? Naturally, my friend has such provisions.
“Damn, your boy got an armory?” I glanced over with a smile. Shalaly’qua stepped into the room, shocked but awed. “Yeah, now, this is what we got’a be about.” She dug out a G19 Gen5, from the duffle. “Where did he get all these ratchets? This is brand new.”
“Are you familiar with these? I know Tom isn’t.” I asked. She snorted.
“Come on, baby, any three year old kid know what a gun do.” My smile persisted. She hoisted the duffle over her shoulder, as I packed another with ammunition. “I don’t know know about y’all but f**k that face changing-ass bitch. Tom, Start that car!”
We loaded up our vehicle and tore off down the dirt road. I’m happy to see Shalaly’qua relaxing some. She’s angry more than anything now. I read though my newly obtained files. Our next step is finding Michelle, more now than ever. These assassins seem to want her badly. ‘She will be along shortly’? Do they think she’s looking for us? I do think we could get in contact with Upstart, but she was in direct correspondence with them. I had a creeping feeling that I already knew what we will learn when we find Anders. He will take us back there.
… “That’s it”
“What’s it?” Tom chirped, startled awake from a pre-sleep daze.
“If we can get back to Michelle’s house, I bet I could contact Anders through her email and set up someplace to meet, pretending to be her. If we can just corner this guy, I will get some answers. I don’t believe he’s oblivious to this situation. If we catch any leads to Michelle in the meantime, we can pursue that.”
“Alright, T. Where we going now?”
“Head back to the highway.”