Ruckus in Rafael

by Urooj Khan

Chapter One

The old navy blue Toyota lit the way through the weather-beaten desert landscape of Southern Nevada. It was a desolate place, relatively quiet aside from the occasional gust of wind, scattering dust and weeds in front of the car. The frigid temperatures of late March permeated the car, making the passengers shiver. Moonlight illuminated the paved road and as the driver continued on the path he couldn’t help but wonder why his wife was so adamant about driving to California instead of taking a plane. The entire atmosphere of Highway 375 spooked him more than he’d care to let his superstitious wife know. The wide expanse of land made the man even more aware of the fact that they were utterly alone with no civilization for miles.

“Honey, turn down the radio. Hannah is asleep,” The frail woman gestured frantically towards her husband. With an irritable sigh, he lowered the volume of the news broadcast. They exchanged a glance, his frustrated light blue eyes piercing into her steely gray ones. Their eyes spoke words that they couldn’t bear to say out loud.

“Lisa, I don’t think she’s going to wake up. The poor kid has had a long week. We all have.” Jeremy Berkley turned his gaze back to the road and drummed his calloused hands against the steering wheel. Lisa Berkley remained silent as she peered over her shoulder to check on her daughter, sleeping peacefully in the backseat. Hannah was at a difficult time in her life; the crucial teenage years in which she was deciding on who she wanted to be in life. At times, Lisa and Jeremy were at odds with their headstrong daughter. This week had been one of those times, as Hannah protested against the family road trip Lisa had proposed to visit her distant family in California. She had argued passionately, claiming they were ruining her spring vacation. Jeremy found himself agreeing with her but as his obligation to his wife, he wanted to minimize the tension between them by supporting her family reunion.

For the next few miles, Lisa remained silent, brushing her fingers absentmindedly through her stringy brown hair while peeking glances over at her husband. She had grown more accustomed to the awkward silence between them than to their passive-aggressive conversations. When had things gotten so bad between them? Their marriage had been a lovely affair but after Hannah, it had all gone downhill. Perhaps it was her unwavering belief in “strict family values” as Jeremy referred to it. Or maybe it was her obsession with superstitions.

Lisa snapped out of her reverie when Jeremy let out a confused grunt. The pair watched with wide eyes as headlights appeared very far in the distance, appearing to increase in intensity and proximity. Jeremy turned to look at his wife, his disheveled blonde hair falling into his frightened eyes.

“What is that? I thought there wouldn’t be any cars down this road at one in the morning?” He whispered, the panic draining the blood from his face. She placed her hand reassuringly on his arm, with her eyes set on the road. The first hushed words she spoke in an hour made his blood run cold.

“Jeremy, I want you to stop the car right now. It’s the things I read about. Kill the lights and get low.”

“Sweetheart, don’t be ridiculous. Please don’t tell me those stupid 1950’s reports are getting to your head. Besides, we need to reach Rafael, Nevada by morning to be on schedule. It’s our pit stop and I don’t want to fall asleep… “ Jeremy trailed off after he noticed he had been rambling. He couldn’t explain why he was pressing the brake gear and turning off the headlights just a few seconds later. Hannah shifted her position in the backseat and began to snore quietly.

In those fleeting moments, the lights came close enough for the couple to see that they were not lights, but glowing eyes. Three sets of eyes set intently on the car as tall, dark figures raced awkwardly down the highway. Jeremy locked eyes with Lisa as she moved her hand instinctively towards the glove compartment. Opening it, she quickly grabbed his registered handgun and cocked back the trigger. Jeremy saw his wife’s demeanor change dramatically in those few seconds. By the time he had turned his eyes back to the highway, a deafening roar caused him to scream in terror. Hannah’s head sprang up from the backseat and she let out a bloodcurdling scream. What they saw was enough to make a grown man’s heart stop.

Lit by the moon, stood the beast in front of their car. It roared again, bearing its large fang-like teeth as its glowing crimson eyes took in the three horrified humans in front of it. The creature’s body was horribly mangled; a botched Frankenstein experiment gone wrong. It had tufts of fur with limp bits of muscle and flesh exposed, dripping green acid-like blood onto the pavement. Two other smaller creatures stood behind it, their eyes hungrily eyeing the car as they let out high-pitched cackles. It was a hunt and the young were eagerly awaiting their leader to show them how it was done.

Lisa clutched the trigger shakily and shot through the front window. The noise of the gunshot and glass-breaking caused Hannah to cry in fright. Jeremy cursed out loud as he saw the thing topple over sideways, clutching its torso as it howled in pain. In those fleeting moments, it was apparent that there was nothing Jeremy or Lisa Berkley could have done. The creature raced towards the side of the car, punched in the backseat window and grabbed Hannah in its claws. Its young crashed through the windows and spit putrid acid into Lisa and Jeremy’s eyes. It was an indescribable feeling of intense, searing pain as the corneas of their eyes burned and their eyeballs melted into a mass of liquid. Blood poured heavily out of Lisa’s gaunt face and she felt herself losing consciousness. Jeremy was faintly aware of the howls of the creatures in the distance and with the last remnants of his vision, saw his daughter and the creatures becoming a small speck on the highway. The night had swallowed her up.

“Baby…” He whimpered as he felt Lisa slump down against his elbow. He slouched in his seat, his eyes burning. He couldn’t cry even if he wanted to because the tears wouldn’t come. His voice was hoarse from screaming and cursing. The entire ordeal had felt like an eternity. Time stood still.

Tilting his head forward, he caught his final glimpses of the darkness of the night.

“Everything is ….” He murmured to himself. Although his words fell on deaf ears, it satisfied him to say something out loud. It was not a dream nor was it a nightmare. It was a tangible reality made real by his wife’s cold body beside him and the pain searing through his eyes. Grasping on to that reality, Jeremy drew his final breath and passed on.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What’s the new case?” Special Agent Alan Lechter huffed as he raced into the office, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. Behavioral Science Expert and budding criminologist, Catherine Walsh looked up from the paperwork to cast a weak smile at her partner as he edged into the seat across from her. It was yet another busy day in the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s headquarters in Quantico, Virginia.

“Morning! So we’re looking at an abandoned and wrecked vehicle off Highway 375 in Southern Nevada in route to California. Inside, police found the decaying bodies of Lisa and Jeremy Berkley. They were estimated to have been there for the past 2 days but due to the desert landscape, vultures and high temperatures had already done a lot of damage. They were apparently traveling with their daughter, Hannah who is currently missing. Oh, and get this: their eyes were gone and parts of their brains appeared to have been disintegrated.” Catherine grimaced as she passed over the case file to Lechter. He glanced through it, sipping at his coffee.

“This is a very odd crime scene. Was there any tampering done to the vehicle? Any traces of DNA evidence? Any other cars travelling down that highway or may have seen our victims prior to their deaths?” Alan asked matter-of-factly, his dark eyes clouding over as he scanned the gruesome images.

“The front windows and left backseat window had been smashed. As for DNA evidence, the bodies were taken to the closest town… I believe it was Rafael, Nevada. They are awaiting processing from our unit. As far as we know now, there were no other cars travelling on the highway that night. We’re off on the plane within the next hour.” Catherine stood up and began to organize the papers into her folder.

“You didn’t mention the daughter? Hannah?” Alan inquired, pointing at the picture of the smiling brunette nestled between the arms of her parents.

“We’ve issued a missing person report and alerted all local authorities within 200 miles of her last known location. Let’s try to remain hopeful about this,” Catherine nodded courteously at Lechter before grabbing the rest of the files and exiting the room.

Alan felt a pit growing in his stomach. There was something sinister about this case that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. After about a decade in the field, he had assumed that he’d seen it all. Yet Hannah’s disappearance surprised him. What would such a remorseless killer want with a hormone-raging adolescent? Why was such a senseless act committed near an otherwise sleepy American town?

Chapter Two

Rafael, Nevada was quite a sight to behold. It was a grander, livelier version of its smaller neighbor, the town of Rachel, Nevada. It was a moderately sized town with sprawling sidewalks and a mixture of manicured houses and unkempt apartment complexes. Occasional stores littered the streets and as they approached nearer to the town square, the more activity and gossip they witnessed. Alan Lechter had seen this sort of place before and he had never liked it. It was a place where everyone knew everyone. Although the town seemed like a respectable place, that was all there was to it. Nothing really major happened. The town’s predictability and daily routine was like clockwork. With no major crimes or violations of any sort, the policemen were almost an endangered species in the area. Driving through the empty streets, Alan noticed the posters with blown up images of a middle-aged man with silvery hair and piercing eyes. The words Blake Bevington is Watching Over Us All were emblazoned across the man’s torso. It looks like this guy has a growing cult of personality, Alan pondered as he turned down the lane towards the town square. Rafael seemed like a respectable enough town where people grew up and eventually left, occasionally coming back to reminisce on the past.

As Alan parked the car at the edge of Cedar Road in the town square, a dense group of people in front of the little town hall caught his attention. He turned over to raise his eyebrows at his partner, Catherine. Her eyes fluttered comically as she was slumped in his seat, still tired from the plane ride. Deciding against waking her up, Agent Lechter exited his government-issued vehicle and strode towards the commotion. As he neared, the crowd seemed to magically quiet down as people dispersed slightly to make room for him to pass. He heard hushed whispers around him, full of judgment.

“I heard Mr. Bevington say they called in the FBI to cover up something…”

“They can’t cover up those 1950’s myths. I’m telling you it was something otherworldly.”

“It hasn’t struck for such a long time… Did we do something wrong?”

The remarks made chills run down Lechter’s spine that reaffirmed his hesitance regarding the case earlier. Nonetheless, he made his way confidently to the middle of the crowd to a skinny, tall man dressed impeccably in a three-piece dark blue pinstriped suit. The man let out a crooked smirk, extending his spidery hand to clasp around Alan’s as he raised forth his gleaming government badge into the sunlight. His dark eyes analyzed Alan thoughtfully for a moment before he opened his mouth to speak.

“Welcome to Nevada, Agent Lechter. I heard news of your arrival and am glad to welcome you to the town of Rafael. My name is Blake Bevington, a state government operative stationed here in Southern Nevada for the past twenty years. Where is your partner?” His voice had a tinge of a European accent to it.

“Thank you, it’s a lovely state. It’s nice to meet you. I apologize, my partner is catching up on some missed hours of sleep,” Alan proclaimed gesturing over to the car. The crowd followed his gaze just in time to see Catherine fumbling out of the passenger side and embarrassedly making her way over to them, combing her fingers through the length of her raven black ringlets of hair. After a formal introduction, Mr. Bevington turned to the crowd.

“Citizens, you may continue with your day. Thank you again for listening to what I had to say,” He exclaimed and with a wave of his hand, the crowd dispersed. Mr. Bevington gestured for Walsh and Lechter to follow him into the looming town hall, an ominous gray building with crumbling pillars and an atmosphere that eerily resembled a fortress.

“So, you’re the two agents set to work on the Berkley case? The community took it as a great shock. Although Lisa and Jeremy Berkley weren’t residents of Nevada, I know they will be missed dearly. I heard they were a bit eccentric but who isn’t in a town like this?” Bevington let out a hoarse laugh, causing Lechter and Walsh to glance at each other confusedly.

“Why would you say that?” Walsh inquired as they made their way up a grand staircase into an elaborately furnished room. Bevington briskly walked over and plopped himself onto the leather chair behind a great oak desk. Lechter paced around, examining the old trinkets and the copious amounts of dusty files littered on the ancient bookshelves.

“Well, let’s just say Mrs. Berkley was a very superstitious woman. She believed in… how should I word this… the idea of extraterrestrial life.” There was a pause in the room as Bevington’s shrewd dark eyes shot back and forth between the two agents, carefully gauging their reactions. Lechter remained wordless as Walsh fished out her notebook and began jotting down energetically.

“So what makes you believe that Mrs. Berkeley took an interest in such things?”

Alan found himself wondering why Bevington would know such a specific detail about the deceased victim. First off, she didn’t even live in Nevada and had never even made it to Rafael where Bevington worked.

“Oh, the local police alerted to me that she had been looking up ridiculous myths on her laptop regarding the Lone Mountain Pine Devil that is allegedly seen in the nearby woodlands. Quite the imagination, that one had.”

“I see, I see…” Walsh mumbled as she frantically filled up the pages of her notebook.

With an enhanced vigor, Alan Lechter began to rummage through files in the bin labelled Preservation of Nevada’s Biodiversity. Walsh saw Bevington shift uncomfortably in his regal chair as he craned his neck to attempt to see which files Lechter was looking through.

“Mr. Lechter, please be careful with those files, will you?” Alan glanced over his shoulder to see Mr. Bevington’s eyes gleaming in the dim light of the office. A chill ran down his spine as he cleared his throat and began to flip through passages of bills and new laws dating back to 1948, issued to protect the arid environment against droughts and erosion.

“Mr. Bevington, do you have any idea what could have happened to Hannah Berkley? She is currently missing and this town was the closest to the location of the crime,” asked Walsh.

“I’m sorry to say we have had no sightings of Hannah. But I assure you, if I do see anything suspicious, I will be sure alert the two of you immediately,” Bevington said, smiling politely. As Catherine and Bevington discussed the minute details of the crime, Alan opened up a book discussing wildlife in the woodlands of Nevada. Along with a plume a dust, he discovered a gray slip of paper discussing nuclear radiation trends since the 1960s. His eyes widened as he examined these trends were issued from the Central Intelligence Agency for nuclear testing to occur in the landscape around Rafael, Nevada. Without a second’s notice, he pocketed the slip into his coat pocket and closed the book, placing it back on the shelf. He didn’t know what compelled him to abandon protocol but something in his heart was telling him the information would be crucial to understanding Bevington’s strange behavior and the nature of the crime. He whirled around to meet the gaze of Catherine’s curious eyes.

“We’re ready to go. I think I’ve gotten what I needed.” She pushed her notebook back into her messenger bag and turned around towards Mr. Bevington as he reached forward to shake her hand.

The man shot the pair his odd smile once more and bowed slightly to Alan. His gaze gravitated towards the bookcase and he scanned Alan up and down.

“Glad to be of service. Mr. Lechter, are all the files in their right places?”

“Yes, I was very thorough,” Alan stressed those syllables and Mr. Bevington’s smile weakened for a millisecond. He reaffirmed his emotionless gaze and walked the agents to the door.

“If you’d please excuse me, I have work to attend to. The myths of the town are making the citizens paranoid and I have to enforce a curfew so they don’t hinder the progress of your investigation.”

“Thank you. We’ll be in touch.” With that, the two agents were on a brisk pace out of the town hall. Before they could leave through the large double doors, a yell from behind them caused them to turn around. It was Mr. Bevington hurrying toward them, clutching a small piece of paper in his hand. He passed it along to Alan.

“Your boss wanted me to pass on this address to the coroner’s office.” With that, Mr. Bevington swiveled on his foot and sashayed back to his office.

“Did you get a creepy vibe from him?” Catherine whispered in a hushed voice as they exited the building. Alan wordlessly nodded and handed her the slip he’d retrieved from the office earlier.

“Alan! Why the hell would you take this from his office without a warrant? This is not your first rodeo!” Catherine exclaimed, her eyebrows furrowing in frustration as she glared daggers at her partner.

“I know, I know. I couldn’t help it, I’m sorry. I don’t know what this case is going to do to us, Catherine. It’s all very strange. Why is there such a horrific murder case in the middle of nowhere? Why was this information about nuclear testing hidden away in a wildlife book? Is Bevington hiding something?” Alan ruefully sighed, running his fingers through his brown hair.

“These nuclear records suggest that the United States were conducting nuclear experiments of some sort during the Cold War arms race. That means that the bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki was not the last nuclear attack the United States had taken part in. Do you know what this means? This could rewrite history!” Catherine exclaimed, her fingers trembling as she held the slip like it was the word of God.

“How does this relate to the case though? Hannah is still missing and we’re no closer to solving the case. Perhaps Mr. Bevington was hiding something with this notice but maybe it has something to do with those 1950’s stories everyone has been talking about. You know… there have been a recurring string of disappearances every couple of decades…” Alan trailed off. Now he was beginning to sound like those fearful citizens, plagued with nightmares of beasts that roamed the night and conspiracy theories involving government domination of all sectors of life.

“You’re always one to jump to conclusions. Let’s stick to the facts and visit the coroner like he suggested.” Catherine appeared to snap out of her awed daze and return to her senses.

Alan felt a surge of appreciation for his practical partner. She was the always the logical one who reminded him to stick to the facts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was hard to believe the two rotten carcasses in front of the agents had once been actual, living people. They seemed hollowed out, figuratively and literally. The decaying process in the desert had taken its toll on their bodies. Lisa Berkley was now virtually a skeleton with strips of flesh and muscle clinging weakly to her skeletal frame. Jeremy Berkeley had fared better against the elements as his face was morphed with a permanent scream, tufts of blonde hair stuck to pieces of his scalp. The familiar V stitched line on the victims’ chests indicated to the agents that an autopsy had already been performed.

Alan intently looked at the corpses, lying exposed on the metal table in the coroner’s office. Catherine attempted to distract herself from the morbidity of the situation by looking around the room at the various medical instruments.

The metal door to the cold office opened and in walked the elderly Dr. Shelly with an autopsy file under his arm as he squeezed on his blue latex gloves. The little old man smiled at the two agents.

“Good evening, Agent Lechter and Agent Walsh. It is quite late but I know that squeezing you two into my schedule was important. These bodies revealed a lot to me,” Dr. Shelly proclaimed hoarsely, nervously adjusting his spectacles.

“Is that so? Please enlighten us. The entire town has been so cryptic…” Alan sighed as he tiredly cracked his knuckles. Dr. Shelly chuckled slightly before opening the file and clearing his throat loudly.

“It appears that Jeremy Berkley had a medical history of having cataracts. He was legally able to drive but with a pair of specialized glasses that reduced glare from other vehicles. It was apparent that he was not wearing this or they would have offered some protection against the acid as well as improved his driving ability.”

“What was the acid, exactly?” Catherine asked, shooting a quick glance at the acid-burned faces beside her.

“It’s quite strange… it was hydrochloric acid or stomach acid. Someone or something regurgitated its stomach contents onto our victims–”

“We got it, there was stomach acid. Is there anything else, Doctor? We really need a lead in this case,” Lechter exclaimed, exasperated.

“Hold your horses, boy! Can’t you see I’m trying to help you? Come closer please, I have to let you two know something I’ve excluded from the report.” Dr. Shelly gestured expressively to the pair and they inched forward, warily.

“When examining their bones, I noticed that they had remarkably brittle bones for middle-aged individuals. Upon extracting a sample, I noticed high contents of uranium and other radioactive substances that had eaten away at their bone marrow,” Dr. Shelly exhaled deeply and wiped beads of sweat on his wrinkled forehead. The pause in the room was quite tense as the agents processed the full nature of the situation.

“If you’re saying what I think you’re saying….” Catherine Walsh started off very slowly, rubbing her temples as she shut her eyes in apparent disbelief.

“They had been exposed to nuclear radiation?” Alan whispered. He immediately fished out the note he’d pocketed from Bevington’s office. So that’s how the puzzle pieces fit in this mysterious jigsaw.

“They were unknowingly on the verge of death before the crime had even been committed. They had been exposed to this radiation after their deaths which suggests that someone or something had moved the bodies from the car for some purpose…” Dr. Shelly’s eyes scrutinized the note Lechter held in his hand. Once he’d identified it, his skin paled to a ghostly white.

“Agent Lechter and Agent Walsh. These deaths fit the same M.O. of seven other individuals who had died travelling through this part of Nevada over the last 50 years. There was no connection made between these incidents because they were isolated from each other by a period of 5-15 years. But I recall them all passing through this coroner’s office when I was a young apprentice interning here,” Dr. Shelly explained in a shaky voice. Something in his demeanor let agents know that this was undisclosed information.

“Is Mr. Bevington hiding something?” Catherine asked bluntly, taking the slip of paper from Alan’s hands and practically shoving it under Shelly’s nose.

“Bevington has only been here for the past few years but he is constantly out of town on government business. His loyal followers in the town are oblivious to this but it is said that he conducts secret experiments in an underground government facility a couple dozen miles off Highway 375, immersed in the woodlands of southern Nevada. The funding for it goes up to the federal level,” Dr. Shelly murmured, moving Catherine’s hand away from his face. She attached the paper to her notebook and began to scribble down ideas furiously.

Walsh lifted her head to exchange a knowing glance with Lechter. Both had realized by now Bevington’s creepy demeanor was a clue to his deception. He had not been in the state for the two decades and was controlling the citizens of the town to believe that his methods were in their best interest.

“I want to thank you immensely for helping us with this federal investigation. The United States government owes you.” Catherine smiled warmly at the old doctor.

“The government is at the root of the problem. But thank you,” Dr. Shelly laughed nervously once again.

“Don’t breathe a word of this conversation to anyone,” Alan said as he paraded Walsh out the door. Dr. Shelly held his hands up comically, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. The secret was out.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

The dark streets of Rafael made the town appear more ominous than it had been earlier in the day. The dimly lit streetlamps led the agents to a nearby motel where they rented a room for the next few days. Once safely secured into their room, Walsh plopped down on the creaky bed and took out her organized notebook.

“So, there is much more to this case that meets the eye. I believe that there appears to be some sort of government cover-up regarding the deaths of the Berkley family and the disappearance of Hannah.” After Walsh uttered those words she ruefully sighed and fell back onto the bed.

“There definitely is something odd regarding Bevington and his web of lies. There has to be a connection between the usage of nuclear radiation and Bevington’s purpose for being here,” Alan said as he tugged off his black shoes. His feet were worn out from walking around town all day.

“We’ll see in the morning…” Catherine mumbled sleepily as sleep overtook her petite body. Alan sighed as he laid a blanket over his partner. As he laid in bed, tiredness gripped his bones but sleep didn’t come.

Chapter Three

    In the morning, the woodlands looked like a serene image out of the pages of a child’s fairy tale. It seemed completely plausible to the agents that at any moment, forest nymphs would fly among the emerald green shrubbery and flowers would miraculously bloom in front of their very eyes. Little did they know that the serene landscape of the woods had much more to hide behind the surface. As the agents made their way through the woods, they were both on high alert with one hand resting on their trusty gun holster. Every snap of a twig and call of a bird set them on edge. They had no idea what they were supposed to be looking for but with no other leads, the allure of falling upon a clue kept them going.

About an hour and a half into their trek through the woods, Alan was losing patience and the motivation to continue. The most activity they had seen was nearly disturbing a bee’s hive. As they moved through the woods, a loud crash from ahead caused them to pause in their tracks. A dirt-encrusted man appeared from a hole in the ground, his shirt soaked in fecal matter and his face covered in bloody scratches. He looked as if it had crawled out of the gates of Hell himself.

“Stop right there or I will blow your brains out of your head!” Lechter screamed, his face turning blood red as he lifted his handgun menacingly in the air. His eyes measured with accurate precision the distance between him and the dirt-covered man that was emerging from the latch hidden under the forest undergrowth. The man raised his left hand above his head but put his right finger to his lips, signalling the agents to be quiet.

“You want us to quiet? You must be out of your damn mind!” Lechter laughed at the craziness of the entire situation. The man stamped his foot in frustration and made the gesture again. His eyes seemed to be pleading with the agents.

“They have ears here. They have ears everywhere. You aren’t safe, even during the day,” The man whispered loudly, his eyes as wide as saucers. He rummaged through his pocket and fished out a piece of crumpled paper. He made a gesture of writing. Alan cleared his throat and cocked back his gun, aiming for the man’s head. He wasn’t about to take any chances.

“Alan, it’s a piece of paper not a gun,” Catherine hissed at her partner, “Excuse me sir, do you need a pen?”

The man eagerly nodded, a weak smile lighting up his grimy, unshaven face. The agent tossed the man a pen from her belt and he used it to write furiously on the paper. Alan lowered his gun and cocked his head in confusion. This was truly a first.

Catherine moved forward cautiously and snatched the paper from the man when he was done. She unfolded it and Lechter looked over her shoulder as they read it silently, attempting to grasp the information the man was telling them. The paper read: Robert Hobbs. Former worker Area 51. New technology. Wars. Mutate humans. Radiation. Ultimate breed of cryptid. Meet me back on the road.

“Can we trust this? It sounds far-fetched to say the least…” Catherine trailed off, doubting her own ability to logically analyze the situation. In attempting to understand this case, they had consistently encountered individuals who had an unwavering belief in 1950s myths about vile, beastly creatures roaming Nevada and being linked to a series of deaths and disappearances. If this was the result of government intervention and unethical experiments, it could have costly implications on the United States’s promotion of human rights.

“Absolutely not. The man is clearly a lunatic. He looks like he hasn’t seen a shower since he was a teenager. He appears to live in the woods. What factual information can we get from a hermit who spends his time dreaming up conspiracy theories about our government?” Alan said, edging closer to Catherine’s ear and avoiding the gaze of the man who was watching them like a hawk. Walsh nodded meekly with her partner’s decision and the two agents turned slightly to address the man.

“I apologize but we cannot follow through with your request. However, we would like to bring you to the local police station at Rafael, Nevada for further questioning about what you know,” Catherine exclaimed confidently. Immediately, the hopeful demeanor of the man named Robert changed as a scowl covered his face and his eyes glazed over with anger. He puffed his chest and rose up to appear twice his size. He now showed no disregard for the volume of his voice.

“You idiots don’t believe me?! Well I’ll show you myself!”

Agent Lechter didn’t have enough time to take his gun back out of his holster before Robert charged at him, grabbing Alan’s gun from his holster and pressing it against his neck. Catherine took out her own gun and aimed it at Robert, her heart rate quickening and her eyes filled with sheer terror. Robert let out a hyena-like laugh of satisfaction.

“I’d always wanted to do that y’know,” He giggled eerily.

“Let him go!” She screamed, the gun shaking in her trembling hands. She couldn’t get a clear shot without her partner in the way.

“You are going to do as I say. Walk towards me and right up to the latch. Pull on it and follow the ladder down. If you guys don’t believe in the underground facility I’m sure you won’t mind taking a trip down there, hm?”

Catherine closed her eyes for a brief moment and when she opened them, she reluctantly took baby steps towards the latch. Her gun remained poised to kill. Alan attempted to struggle but Robert quickly squeezed his arm around his neck, cutting off his air circulation. He was stronger than he looked.

As she pulled the latch open and made her way down the mossy ladder, Catherine prayed to God that she would make it out of this situation alive. Inside the tunnel was dark and the smell was putrid enough to make a man pass out. It smelled like waste matter and the stench of rotting flesh. The tunnel was long and winding, veering off in two different directions. Agent Walsh looked open to see Robert kicking Alan forward causing the young man to tumble down the ladder and almost fall on top of her. With another hyena-like laugh, the gateway to the outside world was closed and the agents were locked underground.

“Oh my God! Alan are you okay? Walsh gripped Alan’s sides as he groaned in pain and clutched his ankle.

“Think I…broke it…” He gritted his teeth in pain and turned over to his side, gasping for air. Blood was pouring down his head from the collision with the hard ground. A high-pitched cackle from far away down one end of the tunnel caused Catherine to take out her gun once more.

“Can’t see a damn thing,” She grumbled and flicked on her weapon’s flashlight. What she saw racing toward her made her blood run cold. It was tall beast hobbled over in the narrow space, green saliva oozing from his mouth his crimson eyes lighting up the darkness. It screamed in excitement as it appeared to be thirty seconds away from a fresh meal.

“Run…” Alan rasped. At that moment, Catherine knew he had given her an ultimatum. She could fight for her life by running and putting up a fight or she could try to carry Alan, which was near impossible due to his ankle. Feeling hot tears streaming down her cheeks, Agent Walsh quickly took out Alan’s gun and put it in his hands. She murmured a goodbye, touching his cheek affectionately. Choking back a sob, she turned in the other direction and began to run. The sound of multiple gunshots caused her to scream in terror as she continued on. The howl of a creature turned to a chorus of other roars as a stampede of footsteps began to run in Catherine’s direction. An earth-shattering scream broke her heart as she knew it was Alan. He had put up the fight of his life and had given her precious moments to hide.

As she raced down the tunnel, Agent Walsh noticed a dark cranny and she rolled herself into there. Immediately, the area was bathed in a blinding light as she was taken aback by the room she was in. It was tiled and had narrow walls. In the center of the large expanse of space was a pile of bodies, mutilated and strewn about like puppets. She tripped over a set of intestines and landed over a glassy-eyed brunette girl who had her stomach contents hanging out and was completely stripped nude. Through her tears, she saw it to be Hannah Berkeley, the optimistic girl from the photograph. The mystery had been solved.

In the final moment of Catherine Walsh’s life, she turned to meet the eyes of her killer. The creature lay panting in front of her, its red eyes peering into her defeated ones. It was over too soon as the monster pounced and sliced Catherine Walsh into mere pieces. Blood seeped through the tiles and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. But not before she got to witness the emblazoned logo branded on the monster’s chest. It read: Blake Bevington is Watching Over Us All. At that point, it didn’t even matter. The government had gotten to keep their secret by eliminating the very two people who had the authority, the means, and the brains to question it. As their blood soaked the walls of the facility, night set on Rafael, Nevada. It had been quite a ruckus indeed…and it would return within the next decade with a new set of skeptics.