XXI
*NOTE – Hello everybody, it's me, TheManFromMudos, and today I'm back with another chapter of 'Xanthus'. It's been a while since I spoke to you at the start of a chapter like this, but I've been so concentrated on getting the story written, I'd completely forgotten about it. Rest assured, though, because I have been reading everybody's reviews, and taking into account your thoughts and feedback on the story so far. That being said, we are now within the last ten chapters of the end of the story. That's right, folks, just ten chapters to go. But how, oh how, will it end? Will the search party find Xanthus? Will Matthew have the guts to kill his own son? To find out, just read on, and as always, enjoy. It's 'Xanthus'. THANK YOU!*
There are a lot of assertions that one might make about the nature of a Xenomorph hunt. After all, you've most likely never been on one, and probably don't know anybody who has. But there are certain… assumptions that you could make about the experience. For example, you might think that hunting Xenomorphs would be an exciting, action-packed adventure of terror and destruction. You might think that people who actively hunted Xenomorphs were obviously cool-headed badarses (or badasses, for our American readers) with balls of solid steel. Perhaps even titanium alloy, come to think of it. And of course, you might think that these badarses/badasses would laugh in the face of danger, wiping out a dozen Xenomorphs in twenty seconds flat, and then taking a sip from an ice-cold bottle of Coca-Cola, or Pepsi, if you'd prefer, like nothing had happened. But you'd be wrong. For one, we didn't have any Coca-Cola. Or Pepsi, for that matter. But as me and the rest of the search party began on our frankly suicidal journey into the unknown, I looked around for a moment, at each one of them, and realised that a lack of carbonated soft drinks were just the tip of the iceberg.
There were six of us in all. The same number of people, in fact, who had been on the Archimedes at the time of it's own Xenomorph attack. And some of the people with me now drew surprising parallels with my old crewmen. Kelvin reminded me of Alan Grike, Senior Lieutenant and leader of the Archimedes' crew. He was short-tempered, and he flaunted his authority. The only difference was that Kelvin didn't seem even remotely phased by the impending threat before us, whereas Alan would have gone running to the nearest safe spot. Then there was Davison. He was more of a Ryan Goddard type of guy. 1st Technician, 1st rate boot-licker. Always sucking up to people above his station, apart from me, for some reason. No emotion, and seemingly, no fear. The rest of the team were more difficult to pin down. Apart from the fact that one of them was a woman, like Cara Holmes, Warrant Officer of the Archimedes, had been, there was little comparison to make between them and my former crew members.
Then there was the situation we were in. A medical officer, a navigational officer, and four security personnel against one eight-foot tall killing machine. Fair enough, back on the Archimedes, it had been a medical officer, a navigational officer, two technicians and a… whatever Alan's job actually involved, against an eight-foot tall killing machine, and we'd won, but the situation had been different then. For a start, the Xenomorph had had a lot less space to run, and a lot fewer places to hide, on the Archimedes. Here, Xanthus had hundreds of miles of ventilation shafts, a dozen or so decks, and countless masses of corridors to play around with. All of this, combined with the fact that I was absolutely starving , having eaten a grand total of five digestive biscuits and three ginger nuts since my arrival on the Constantinople, meant that I was really, and I mean really, not ready for this. Not only was there the fear and tension of being stalked by a killer alien with a taste for human flesh, but also the anxious anticipation for the emotional shit-show that would surely follow when I had to wipe my own flesh and blood from the face of the… station.
As the last hours of the morning slowly dissipated, and noon eventually came upon us, the situation only worsened. We hadn't yet found anything that could signify the presence of any life form, let alone any trace of Xanthus. Tensions were running high in the group by this point. Of course, nobody had actually spoken a single word since we first left the docking area two hours ago, but trust me, they were high. I could tell by the way that everyone kept glaring back and forth between one another. Constant, relentless glaring. I even indulged in a little glaring myself, mostly at Kelvin, who kindly returned the favour with a pretty lengthy glare of his own. It wasn't until around one in the afternoon that somebody actually said something. It was one of the security operatives, and at first, nobody took any notice of him. We'd been in complete silence for so long, everybody had simply not heard what he said. He then repeated himself, slightly louder this time, although there was clear caution in his voice.
"There's something over there." The operative announced, pointing shakily towards a large indentation in the wall a little way down the corridor. I squinted to see into the shadowed area, and saw a small, dark mass layed still within it. It was hard to tell from this distance, but it seemed much too small to be Xanthus. Kelvin slowly signaled to the group to close in on the indented panel, and we approached cautiously, guns at the ready. As we got closer, though, it became quite apparent that whatever was laying in there was already very much dead. Kelvin pointed a torch into the shadows, illuminating the figure spectacularly. My face fell in horror at the sight before me, as did those of almost everyone else in the group. A small child, around ten years old, by the looks of it, layed completely still in the tiny space. She must have been trying to hide here, but to no avail. Her face was contorted with terror, her eyes wide with fear. Her left leg had been completely severed, and she was surrounded by a pool of her own blood. It was an image that still scars me to this day. A defenseless, innocent little girl, killed in cold blood. It was sick, it was cruel. It didn't have to happen.
"Good lord." Kelvin mumbled, staring in bewilderment at the sight before him. Even he had a look of unshakable remorse on his face.
"Nobody's safe from this thing." Davison muttered in response, gazing emptily at the child as he spoke. "Men, women, children. The sick, the disabled, the elderly. It'll kill anyone that gets in it's way. This is why we have to stop it." There was a murmur of approval from the rest of the group.
"We're on the right track." Kelvin remarked bluntly. "That's the only consolation we can draw from this. We have to keep searching."
"And what about her?" I asked, looking once again at the young girl beside us. "We can't leave her here. Her parents will have to be told. We-"
"There's nothing we can do right now, Matthew." Kelvin continued solemnly. "We need everybody here to continue the search. We'll come back for her as soon as-"
"Come back for her?" I repeated, almost chuckling at the idiocy demonstrated by Kelvin here. "And what's to say that Xanthus won't come back for her? To take what's left of her body before her parents even find out what's happened? Somebody has to take her back, or at least stay here with her."
Kelvin looked down at the ground, slightly annoyed, slightly confused. It was certainly a difficult situation, to say the least.
"Fine." He eventually muttered, pointing to one of the security operatives within the group. "You. What's your name?"
"Security Operative Harold Brindley, sir." The man replied reluctantly, clearly not keen on the idea of being left alone down here.
"Well, Brindley," Kelvin continued, "you'll stay here and guard this girl's body until we return. If you see the Xenomorph… kill it." Brindley didn't reply, but nodded gingerly at Kelvin's command. I could tell by the look in his eye that he already knew. Staying here alone was suicide. But what else could we do? If anyone else stayed, there'd only be four of us left in the group. And then what we do if Xanthus showed his face? On the other hand, if we didn't leave anyone, Xanthus could come back and take the child. And I simply couldn't bear the thought of that happening…
"The rest of you, come on." Kelvin announced, stepping away briskly down the corridor. "We need to keep moving." Davison and the other two security operatives obeyed, as did I, albeit reluctantly. As we continued moving, I turned to look back at Brindley.
"I'm sorry." I called back to him as the others rounded a corner at the end of the corridor.
"Quite alright, sir." Brindley replied, trying to sound confident but nonetheless failing. "Don't you worry about me."
"…Good luck, Brindley." I said reassuringly, nodding solemnly at the man, who returned a similar gesture. And with that, I quickly rounded the corner of the corridor to catch up with the others. Whether we'd ever see Brindley again was a question nobody knew the answer to at this point. But as we continued deeper into the ship, his absence created a clear atmosphere of discomfort amongst us all.
The next half an hour seemed to drag on for a lifetime. So many thoughts were circulating in my mind, I could barely concentrate on the task at hand. We hadn't found anything else since… since Brindley had left the group. But as we journeyed yet deeper into the bowels of the Constantinople, I began to get the sinking feeling that our search would soon come up with some result. Kelvin apparently shared this view, as he was listening out for every tiny noise he could here by this point. He kept stopping the group after every creak of the floor, every groan of the pipes. I would say that this was paranoia, but given that we really were right in the middle of a potential ambush right now, I don't think the word 'paranoia' would be suitable. I can, however, safely use the words 'fruitless', 'hopeless', pointless', and many other '-less'es to describe these activities. For no matter how many times we stopped and listened, it always turned out to be nothing more than background noise. That is, of course, until…
"Wait." Kelvin whispered suddenly, putting a hand in the air to silence the group. "Can you hear that?"
"With all due respect, sir," Davison replied wearily. "You've been asking that for the last half an hour, and nobody else can-"
"Hold on." One of the security operatives, the female one, interrupted. "I can hear it too." Everybody in the group suddenly fell completely silent. We listened out carefully, straining our ears to the utmost. And then I heard it. A low, quiet rumbling sound, who's origin I couldn't quite pinpoint.
"What is that?" Davison asked, also detecting the noise. He looked around, confused, as if he too was trying to locate the noise's origin.
"I don't know…" Kelvin murmured, half to himself and half to the group. "It sounds like… growling." I listened carefully to the noise once more, and realised that he was right. It was almost indistinguishable from the quiet throb of distant machinery, but it was most certainly a growl. And that could only mean one thing…
"It's… it. Isn't it?" The other male security operative asked in a hushed tone. I nodded silently, not daring to speak at this point, lest I make too much noise. Suddenly, I heard the growling again, this time much louder. The rest of the group also heard it, and began to look around, worried expressions on their faces. Once the growl sounded a third time, louder still, it became apparent that we were in danger. But from which direction?
"T-Th…" The operative stuttered suddenly. He slowly lifted his hand, and pointed a finger down the corridor behind us. I immediately wheeled around to see what he was pointing at. As if it wasn't already glaringly obvious. I wished for it to not be real. How I wished. But it was. An incredibly tall figure loomed in the shadows down the corridor. I could tell by the shape of the silhouette that it was not human. The sound of growling filled the corridor once more, and the figure stepped forwards slowly. In the dim light of the dark corridor, I could now see some of the features of the figure. Large, bulbous head. Long, pointed tail. Thick 'spines' protruding from it's back. It was unmistakable. It was a Xenomorph. It was Xanthus.