Bruce called Andrew.
"Andrew! What is this? What the fuck am I watching?" Bruce yelled into his phone.
"Michael's last story! The one your team edited! I know you watched it you had to of. Don't tell me to fucking calm down man. I'll come down there right now with these discs. Kirsten is gonna fucking get it from me right after this for making me watch these."
Bruce was standing at this point. Listening to Andrew.
"You bet your ass. I'll watch them with you. Then we both talk to Kirsten alright? I'm done." Bruce hung up and slapped his phone onto the wooden table. He sighed and rubbed his face. Just ice was left in his drink. He still had plenty of cigarettes left but he was feeling nauseous.
Bruce grabbed the glass and held it up against his forehead. Taking a breath. Bruce had seen Anny. He swore he'd seen Michael. He was tense now, and stared at the last disc. He knew he wouldn't be able to walk out without seeing what was on the last disc. Bruce rubbed the water residue from his forehead and wiped his hands on his pantlegs. He grabbed the last disc and quickly started it up.
DISC 8 - ???
A camera turned on.
It was dark, low fluorescent lights dimly lit the wall across from the camera, just barely seen past the face looking into it. It was Michael. He was breathing heavy, with his hair wild and face covered in brush and dirt. The camera shook as he worked on it and the footage turned grey and then green with Michael’s eyes glowing right in front of the lens. He stepped away. He looked over and Frank came into view. Frank was holding one arm to his stomach at a 90-degree angle with his free arm. He was breathing heavy as he looked at the camera and nodded.
“Go ahead.” Frank said.
Michael nodded and crouched in front of the camera. It focused slightly on him.
“This is after the crash. We’re not too sure how long. I awoke inside this cave with some of my stuff on me. Frank was unconscious next to me. No sign of Kris’ partner or Anny. We were in room underground. A part of this cave system. I woke Frank up and helped him with his arm, its either sprained or fully broken at this point. Thankfully my camcorder was still functional, and they didn’t find it in my bag……. Or maybe they just didn’t care.”
A noise echoed far away. Michael looked back along with Frank but quickly turned to the camera.
“A man led us into this room, he was in full tactical gear and seemed relatively normal, compared to what it was that attacked us at least. He led us out the room at gunpoint. We didn’t see much. Just long cavernous tunnels lit up with some shoddy electrical wiring. We went through one room that looked like a gathering place of sorts, then out into a hallway. We took a left down it. I couldn’t keep track but after thirty or so yards we took a right. We passed other doors as well. Only ten yards down this hall he put us in this room. We’ve been here for about half an hour since.”
Michael looked back at Frank. Frank had sat down against the rock wall nearby and nodded. “Yeah, that’s right.” He said with a groan.
Michael looked at the camera. “We’ve heard all sorts of noises. Men, women, kids screaming. Ungodly wails similar to what we heard before being attacked. Even heard sniffing outside our door but thankfully its locked.” Michael rubbed his face.
“I’m not too sure what this is. But this is no domestic terrorist group. This seems to be a full operation. We don’t know what those things were but whoever this group is, they are using them to attack the National Guard.” Michael shook his head. “That’s all we’ve got.”
He took a short step back and then sat down across from Frank. They looked at each other and Michael looked over his left shoulder. Frank looked at the camcorder from where he was sitting.
“From what I can tell our militia man was wearing Army requisitioned tactical gear. Didn’t look foreign to me.” Frank said.
Michael nodded.
“He didn’t really speak. Kris said this outfit was committing some domestic terrorism. Which, explains National Guard patrolling the area. But your research showed a lot of land buyback was happening along the towns and counties that the National Guard was patrolling.” Frank sat there in thought after.
“Okay…. Okay. So, this outfit goes town to town causing problems. They send the Guard out to deal with the problems, and then buyback the homes and land of those affected by this outfit?” Michael said, raising his voice on the question.
“Yeahhhhh?” Frank said hesitantly, “I’m just not sure where the people are going. I mean, Belleville was completely abandoned.”
Michael slapped his hands together and pointed at Frank. “Maybe its all the Guard? This group is just a reason to get the national guard to come in and evacuate people. Setup checkpoints, make it so no one can get in. Light up some fireworks and gunshots and boom. Displaced people with nowhere to go.”
Frank shook his head. “We didn’t see any of those displaced people in Washington though. No refugees or anything. Just whatever that thing was in the house. And what attacked us last night. Or well, tonight.”
“Fuck….. you’re right.” Michael said.
Frank took a long breath.
Some time passes and Michael eventually looks at the camera.
“Alright I’m gonna shut it off until we hear something.” He says.
Frank nods his head. “Sounds good.”
The footage cuts.
The camcorder starts up, its shaking slightly as Michael positions it back where it was. This time the night vision has been turned off.
The door is opening, and Frank is standing up against the rock wall. Michael quickly turns around and steps away from the camera, straightening himself.
The two stared at the door. Michael quickly looks back at the camera and steps out closer to Frank.
“Wait, we’re journalists. We’re not with the National Guard.” Michael says holding up his hands. Frank holds up one arm while keeping the other pressed to his stomach. Michael takes a step back and is up against the wall.
A tall figure steps into view. Towering over the two men, it’s draped in a long coat black coat. It turns to the camera; circular red sunglasses flash as it does. The figure is smiling. An uncannily wide smile filled with teeth. It looks human-ish, with its black hair slicked back meticulously. It turns back to the Michael and Frank.
“Oh, I know who you two are.” The figure says. A mans voice, speaking with authority and a cold tone that cut through the room. The man snaps his fingers in a smooth motion, creating a crisp loud crack in the room. Another guard, described similarly to the one who led Michael and Frank to this cell, approaches the man. He slowly takes off his long black leather coat. He drapes it over the guard’s outstretched arm.
“Wait outside.” The man says.
The guard nods and steps out, closing the door loudly.
“So, Michael O’Connell and Frank Brown. What brings you to my military operation?” The man asks.
Under the coat he’s wearing a black collared shirt with a black tie, covered by a black tactical vest. His pants are black as well, but tailored suit pants somehow long enough for his body. A silver pocket watch chain clung from his waistbelt to his right pocket. The man’s hair is deep black while his skin is pale. He pulls a stool into view and sits down, almost sitting at both Michael and Franks height.
Michael speaks up. “We’re following a lead. Government has been buying up land and homes all along the border of Nebraska and Kansas. Then we found out National Guard activity was all over the border as well. It sounded like a story to us.”
The man nods. “Quite the story.”
“We’re just reporters man.” Frank said, stuttering slightly. “We don’t have any issues. We’re just working the story.”
The man looked over at him. “And? What have you found out?”
“Uh, alot man. We found a lot so far.” Frank said.
The man turned back to Michael, “And now time for the final interview. To wrap up the story I feel.” Michael simply stared at him, but he began to lower his hands.
“You want us to interview you?” Michael asked.
The man nodded again, he ran his hands through his hair slicking it back and adjusted his glasses. “Yes.”
Michael looked back at Frank and then over at the camera.
“I made sure you still had something left after that unfortunate crash.” The man grinned
“Well. Do we have a choice?” Michael asked.
The man shook his head. “No.”
The footage cuts. For the last time.
The camera is wavering slightly.
“Keep it steady Frank.” The man says looking at the camera. He is sitting across from Michael, who is also on a stool now. The man is towering over Michael and Frank was zooming out to keep them both in frame. Frank whispers something under his breath.
Michael looks over at Frank and takes a deep breath, he then speaks up.
“Who are you?” Michael asks.
“Former Lieutenant Colonel Conrad Spencer. Current leader of the West Bragg Brigade.” Spencer says.
“What is the West Bragg Brigade?” Michael asks.
Spencer smiles, “My military outfit of course.”
“Of course.” Michael says, he leans back.
“When did you start this brigade?”
Spencer clasps his hands together and sets them on his lap. “I’d say about one year ago.”
“Where did you get enough people to start a military outfit?”
Spencer crossed his arms. “Not too hard Mr. O’Connell. A lot of veterans hold great disdain for their military leadership. Just had to ask the right people, something I already had access to.”
“You had access to people who did not like the US Military?” Michael asked.
Spencer smiled again, “It’s a long list Mr. O’Connell.”
“You aren’t wrong there.” Michael looked over at Frank and resituated himself on the stool. Michael looked visibly uncomfortable but was still conducting himself in a professional manner. Frank kept taking short breaths behind the camera when a pause would go for too long.
“Ok Colonel Spencer, Why did you get together a group of veterans who had it out against the US Military?” Michael asked.
“Revenge. My unit had conducted some work for a former General. A man responsible for the suffering of myself and friends of mine who were sent on missions after Desert Storm. We received a certain assignment back home in late 2000. An assignment that resulted in the fighting force you saw last night.”
“So, the things we saw last night. Came from the US Military.” Michael said.
“Something like that.” Spencer nodded his head. He was completely relaxed talking to the two.
“How did the US Military make that possible?” Michael asked.
“Many such ways I am sure. Maybe they used a super serum? Radioactive Waste? Maybe, it was cosmic rays!” Spencer raised his hands wide and laughed.
“What a bunch of bullshit.” Frank said from behind the camera.
Spencer looked over at him.
“Comin book bullshit Michael. This guy is insane.” Frank said angrily.
“Of course I’m insane Frank. You have to be in this day and age to do something, anything, to make a change. To get what you want.” Spencer stood up, towering over Michael.
“And since I have the attention of the National Guard, I have the attention of the Department of Homeland Security. And with their attention, then this General. Whom I have such a storied history with, will reveal himself with bloodstained hands. And gentleman, at that point, I will have my revenge.”
Spencer snapped his fingers once again. A loud bang reverberated from the locked door.
Spencer stood up and quickly walked over to Frank. He grabbed the camera, raising it up above the pitiful man before him. He pushed Frank back further into the room and walked back to the door.
“Thank you gentleman.” Spencer pulled the stool close to him and set the camera on top of it. He opened the door.
With a snarl and rush of movement, something large flung itself into the room. Frank yelled and Michael tried to escape it as it flung itself onto him. He screamed as the large figure tore into his body with its many arms. It was arched over Michael, and the grainy footage of the camcorder barely captured the gory scene that lay in front of it.
Frank yelled louder this time, and a brown pack hit the figure’s back. It suddenly raised its head and looked to Frank off camera. Its neck was long and slender, with a bony spine almost breaking skin up to the back of its head. It craned its long neck towards Frank, briefly revealing a pale hairless head with a protruding mouth baring long sharp teeth. It suddenly leapt towards Frank. Horrid screams filled the room. Frank pleaded and yelled, but the noise of snarling and tearing of flesh drowned out his dying voice.
Gunshots echoed from behind the camcorder. Much further away. The tearing quickly stopped, and with a blur of movement the thing rushed through the camera’s frame towards the door.
Multiple gunshots sounded and there was loud yelling echoing from the tunnels. Commands sounded out, loud bangs followed by overlapping shooting. A sudden inhuman roar that caused even more chaos to the footage’s static scene.
The room had blood splattered on the walls and on floor that could be viewed from the camera’s position on the stool. Only the top of Michael’s could be seen, and a pool of blood was growing around it.
Another roar echoed into the room, this time closer but was quickly silenced by even louder gunshots. Faint voices could be heard, a sudden yell followed by more shooting. Then it went quiet.
Boots sounded out in the nearby hall and people talked over each other. A woman’s voice sounded out, while static on the radio played close to the door.
Two soldiers entered the room sweeping through it quickly. They weren’t the militia, but they didn’t look like the national guard either.
“Clear! Two down.” One of the soldiers said back to the door.
“No no no!” Anny ran into frame, falling to her knees by Michael. She was crying while trying to pick him up.
Agent Kris came into frame and talked to one of the soldiers. They shrugged slightly and stepped past the Agent.
Michael groaned.
“Michael, Michael!” Anny yelled.
“Help her.” Agent Kris gestured to the soldier who’d just passed him. He quickly helped Anny pull Michael up.
Blood covered his body with his shirt shredded and massive claw marks and bites bleeding profusely.
“Kris, come in.” His walkie sounded out. Agent Kris grabbed it quickly.
“Go for Kris.” He responded.
“Militia forces are about to flood your area. Need to extract now.” The walkie quipped.
“Copy, Leaving now, only one survived. Bringing him with us.” Kris said.
“Copy.”
“Lets go.” Kris said, still in frame and signaling his hand towards the door.
The group moved out of the room and started down the hall. Kris watched them leave and then looked down at the camcorder. He eyed it curiously. Kris looked around the room, and back down at Frank. Kris sighed and looked back at the camera. He picked it up and turned it around, looking down at the stool and the doorway to the room. It shook slightly and he turned it around to face himself. The camera focuses, and Kris gives it a smile.
End of Disc 8
Bruce shook his head. He couldn't believe it. It had to be something Michael cooked up with the other two. Maybe some film passion project. Bruce had been white knuckling the table the whole first half of the disc. But then the thought appeared. And it struck such a chord that it allowed him to calm down.
The disc was fake. And editing was pulling one over on him. He laughed at the final couple of scenes and noted how ridiculous it all was. Bruce packed up the discs back in their holder. As he worked the final disc into its packaging he frowned looking inside it. The disc was catching on a little yellow post it, folded up small. Bruce took it out of the slip and put the disc in, putting it into the holder with the others. Bruce cleaned up the table but left the note by the discs.
Once he was done, he grabbed the discs and the note and stepped out of the room. It was almost eight thirty at this point, and he was ready to go catch some sleep. He unfolded the note. It was a number. Bruce stepped into his nearby office and put the discs back onto his desk. He frowned and took his phone out, dialing the number.
It rang. For awhile even. Almost long enough for him to hang up. But his curiosity kept him on the line. Just long enough for someone to pick up. Bruce heard the same voice he'd just heard. Doing an interview with Michael O'Connell.
"Senior Director Bruce Holms, KCOP. How did you like Michael's Story?"