Ice Rift - Xtro: Alien Invasive Horror Thriller Read online

  XTRO

  Ben Hammott

  XTRO

  Alien Invasive Horror Thriller

  Ben Hammott

  Copyright 2020 ©Ben Hammott

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any other information storage and retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the written permission of the copyright holders.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  The author can be contacted at [email protected]

  Author website: Ben Hammott Books

  Book formatted by format-your-book-4u

  CHAPTER 1

  Siberian Tundra

  Trekking across the freezing Siberian wasteland, Richard stared up at the abundant stars filling the night sky and briefly wondered if his eyes swept over the planet or galaxy from where the Antarctic aliens had heralded.

  Pointing ahead and slightly east of their position, Sullivan broke the silence that had descended over the fatigued group. “Is that a light?”

  Mason scrutinized the distant glow. “Looks like flames. A campfire, perhaps?”

  “Strange place to set up camp in this inhospitable hellscape,” muttered Richard.

  After traipsing closer, they halted and peered at the distant campfire. Highlighted in its glow was a large truck that Richard looked at longingly. After two days trudging through the harsh Siberian tundra with no food, he was exhausted and starving, and Boris, even despite his smell, was looking tastier by the minute.

  “Maybe they’ll give us a lift to the crater,” offered Richard hopefully.

  “Tempting thought,” agreed Colbert. “At the very least, they’ll have food.”

  “What if it’s Russian soldiers?” queried Kelly.

  Colbert peered at the distant glow for signs of people but saw none. “Unlikely way out here. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s probably hunters.”

  “With a hundred or more kilometers still to go until we reach the crater, it might be worth the risk asking for a lift,” said Mason.

  Sullivan looked back the way they had come. “Even way out here, they must have noticed the explosion. If we explain that the blast downed our helicopter, maybe they’ll take pity and help us.”

  “Even if you lot aren’t going to ask them, I am,” stated Richard adamantly and headed off with Boris beside him. “Imprisoned in a Russian gulag is preferable to walking another day without food.”

  “We should get our stories straight first?” suggested Mason. “Why are we here in Siberia, for example?”

  “Just follow my lead,” called back Richard.

  Mason and Sullivan turned to their commander.

  Colbert shrugged. “I suppose we had better go with him to keep him out of trouble.”

  They followed Richard to the campsite.

  Arriving first, Richard glanced around the deserted campsite lit by the welcoming, warm glow of the fire. He pondered the two empty canvas folding chairs, one with a half-empty bottle of vodka stuck in the drink holder set in the armrest, before resting his coveting gaze on the roasting haunch of venison; the carcass of the musk deer the meat had been cut from hung on a skinning frame nearby.

  Richard glanced at the others when they arrived. “It seems deserted.”

  “Not as deserted as you think, Richard,” informed Colbert. “Two men are standing in the dark on the opposite side of the fire with rifles aimed at us.”

  Richard peered into the darkness as the two Russians stepped into the ring of firelight.

  “What are five Americans doing way out in Siberian tundra?” asked the taller Russian.

  “I’m British,” corrected Richard.

  Boris chattered.

  “And Boris is Russian,” added Richard.

  The tall Russian laughed and stepped forward. “British I like. Americans, not so much.”

  “Understandable,” agreed Richard. “I’m not that keen on them myself.”

  “Then why you with them?” asked the tubbier Russian sporting a bushy black beard, his rifle trained on the SEALs.

  “We were heading for Batagaika crater when our helicopter was caught in the blast of a huge explosion and crashed,” Richard explained.

  “Da, we see this two days ago,” said the tall Russian.

  Richard continued. “Luckily, we all survived, but our supplies were destroyed when the crashed helicopter caught fire. Left with no choice other than to walk to Batagaika, we saw your campfire and came to see if you could help us. We haven’t eaten for two days.” Richard glanced longingly at the roasting meat.

  “Why you go to Batagaika crater?” asked the bearded Russian.

  “I’m a scientist,” explained Richard. “Some of my colleagues have been there for a few weeks digging for preserved fossils when they came across a rock they thought might be a meteorite, which is my area of expertise, so they contacted me to come and examine it.”

  The bearded Russian nodded at the SEALs. “They not look like scientists.”

  Richard shook his head. “They’re not. They are idiots—grunts to do the hard work. If it is a meteorite, it will need digging out. They believed it would be easy pay for an easy job, but I forgot to inform them the meteorite was in the Siberian wasteland.” Richard smiled along with the two Russian men.

  The tall man laughed. “Just like Americans to let greed get them in trouble.” He lowered his weapon. “Come eat. Hunting has been good. We have plenty.”

  Richard and the SEALs eagerly accepted the Russians' hospitality and passed around the two bottles of water they gave them.

  “I am Nicolai,” he nodded at his friend, “And my fat comrade is Alyosha, revealed the tall Russian as he sliced off chunks of meat and handed them out.

  Richard introduced himself and the others.

  Nicolai stabbed a lump of meat at Boris. “And where chimp come from? You said he Russian.” He laughed when Boris snatched the food from his hand and started eating. “He also has hunger.”

  Chewing and swallowing the tasty, meaty mouthful, Richard replied, “I was working as an exchange scientist in a low-grade Russian laboratory that was shortly closing down. When I heard that the test animals were going to be destroyed, I rescued Boris. He now goes everywhere with me.”

  Alyosha said something in Russian that caused his comrade to laugh.

  Nicolai translated, “He said you like married couple.”

  Boris chattered.

  The two Russians looked at Richard expectantly.

  Richard rolled his eyes. “He said, I should be so lucky.”

  The two Russians laughed.

  After they had eaten, the vodka was passed around. The mood was pleasant and jovial. Noticing the blood seeping through Colbert’s trousers, which he assumed was caused by the crash, Nicolai furnished him with a first aid kit so he could clean and redress the wound.

  “We are thankful for your hospitality, but I would like to ask another favor of you,” said Richard, directing his inquiry at the friendlier taller Russian.

  “You want lift to crater,” preempted Nicolai.

  Richard nodded.

  Nicolai contemplated the request for a few moments. “Is long way from direction we travel. Much diesel used to take you there. What pay you for our trouble?”

  After thinking for a few moments, Richard answered, “Something none of your comrades will hav
e or could ever hope to attain.”

  He had caught the attention of both Russians.

  “Tell us more,” said Alyosha, intrigued.

  “You are hunters, yes?” The men nodded. “Do you have a camera or a smartphone?” Again, the men nodded. “Then how about you take us to the crater, and in return for your trouble and expense, I’ll arrange for you both to have a photograph posing with an extinct woolly mammoth and a cave lion?”

  Nicolai snorted. “You must receive bang on head when helicopter crash. What you say is impossible.”

  “Not necessarily,” contended Richard. “My colleagues at Batagaika have found perfectly preserved specimens of both species entombed in the ice, which they should have dug out by now. The man in charge of the excavation is my brother. If I ask, he will let you pose with them for photographs. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, and as I said, nothing your comrades will have.”

  Alyosha said something which Nicolai translated. “Is cave lion a saber-tooth?”

  Richard looked at Alyosha and shook his head. “These prehistoric lions would have eaten saber-toothed tigers, and even cave bears, for breakfast. They were the apex predator where and when they lived and were much bigger and stronger than the saber-tooth, not to mention smarter.”

  Nicolai was impressed. “How big?”

  Richard pictured the preserved lions and sensing in the Russians' eyes, bigger was better, exaggerated slightly. “About twelve feet in length and they must have weighed almost 900 pounds, that’s about 400 kilograms. In its time, the cave lion was king. It was cleverer than its prey and extremely powerful. Add to that its powerful jaws, and what you have was a super-predator. No other predatory animals it mixed with, such as wolves, bears, or other felines, were able to intimidate it.” Feeling he had built up the image implanted in the Russians' minds sufficiently, Richard fell to silence.

  The two Russians looked at each other and then back at Richard.

  “Perfectly preserved, yes?” confirmed Nicolai.

  “As good as. Fur, claws, teeth, eyes, everything. It will be hard to tell from a photograph that you hadn’t just hunted and shot them,” assured Richard, playing to the men’s egos.

  Nicolai held out his hand. “Then deal we have.” Richard shook it to seal the bargain. “But we leave now. Soon come heavy snows, and we have bear still to hunt.”

  Richard readily agreed. The sooner he reached Batagaika, the sooner he would be on his way home.

  After the Russians had extinguished the fire but left their camp intact ready for their return, Richard and the SEALs climbed into the back of the large Kamaz-4310 truck and were soon on their way to Batagaika crater.

  “Was that true about the mammoth and cave lions,” asked Sullivan.

  Richard grinned. “Of course. When have you ever known me to lie?”

  Still pondering if Richard was telling the truth, the men focused on gripping on tightly as the truck bounced over a bump giving them all a jolt. It was going to be an uncomfortable journey.

  CHAPTER 2

  Gone Fishing

  Sat at his desk in the sheriff’s office, Deputy Jim Rickmeyer glanced up from the paperwork he was filling in and observed the 1997 Chevy pickup truck that had pulled into the parking bay beside the town’s only official patrol vehicle, a three-year-old Ford Explorer.

  Sheriff Cory Lansdale climbed out of his Chevy, shut the door, and glanced along what passed for Devil Falls main street. It was quiet as usual. He glanced at the few townsfolk, all of whom he knew by name, and raised a hand in greeting to Josh Kirby when he stepped out from his shop to place a selection of wares he rarely sold onto the sidewalk. Lansdale could remember when the town was bustling with activity, and all businesses turned a profit, but that had ended years ago. First, with the closing of the copper mine, and then the final nail in the coffin came when the nearby air force base had been decommissioned. Foreclosures soon followed, and with the loss of the badly needed jobs they had given the townsfolk, people and families had soon deserted Devil Falls for more favorable opportunities. With sixty-three, at last count, people remaining in town, the residual businesses barely turned a profit.

  Certain that Devil Falls was destined to become another American ghost town abandoned to nature and eventually forgotten, Lansdale entered his office and greeted his deputy.

  “Morning, Jim. What’s on the schedule for today?” Lansdale crossed to his desk and sat in the large leather swivel chair worn from years of his backside sliding into it.

  Going through the daily motions, Rickmeyer picked up his telephone message pad. “A fox has been at Elroy’s chickens again, and again I informed him that his chickens didn’t come under the protective arm of the sheriff’s department and that he should dip into his pocket and construct a secure fox-proof run for his chickens if he wanted to prevent it from happening again.”

  Lansdale smiled. “And what did Elroy say to that?”

  “He ranted on about animals having as many rights as humans, and that because the fox had stolen one of his chickens and killed two others, that it was theft and murder and thus we should offer protection and track down the thieving, murderous culprit and serve it due justice with a bullet or two.”

  Lansdale laughed. “Tell him to ring the FBI next time it happens.” He shuffled some papers on his desk and looked at them with unconvincing feigned interest. “Anything else?”

  “Emerald Larson lodged another complaint, which makes it the fourth this month, about Lenny’s dog, Dingo, barking in the middle of the night again and keeping her awake. I’ve already warned him about it, but I’ll go and see him again and tell him to put it in the house at night where it can’t detect cats passing by the property on their evening prowls. But that’s it.”

  Lansdale dropped the papers he had no interest in back onto his desk and stood. “As it’s another quiet day, I might as well head to the river for a spot of fishing. Radio me if anything important crops up.”

  As Lansdale headed for the door, Rickmeyer glanced at the sheriff’s radio collecting dust on his desk; it had run out of charge weeks ago. “I’ll be sure to.”

  Rickmeyer watched Lansdale reverse and turn. The side of the vehicle furnished him with a view of the sheriff’s fishing rods strapped to the purpose-built rack in the truck bed. Although it was at times annoying when he needed the sheriff’s signature or say so on a particular matter requiring his authority, he couldn’t blame the man who, more and more as his retirement day approached, was to be found gone fishing.

  Rickmeyer was looking forward to the old man retiring and contemplated his advancement to sheriff. Devil Falls might be small, free of any serious crime, and its population decreasing year by year, but it was his town, and it suited his needs. Born and bred here, he rarely traveled. During his training at the Montana Law Enforcement Academy, he had visited the state capital Helena but had found it too busy and noisy for his liking.

  Returning to his paperwork, deputy Rickmeyer was unaware that events unfolding thousands of miles away would soon put Devil Falls and its entire population in deadly peril. His law enforcement training had done nothing to prepare him for what was about to happen.

  CHAPTER 3

  Batagaika Crater – Siberia

  It was midmorning of the following day when the scientist working near the lip of Batagaika Crater, paused his weekly measuring of the crater’s growth rate and turned to stare at the approaching vehicle whose engine had disturbed the peaceful tundra and his task. He coughed and waved a hand at the cloud of black exhaust fumes that belched from the truck when it pulled to halt a short distance away.

  Silence returned to the tundra when the engine died.

  Groaning from the bumpy ride, the battered passengers climbed to their feet and rubbed at various body parts that had suffered from the journey over the unforgiving terrain devoid of roads or tracks.

  Sullivan jumped out, nodded at the surprised scientist, and folded down the tailgate to make it easier for the other
s to dismount.

  Richard climbed out of the truck and approached the man he recognized from his previous visit. “Hi Boyd, is my brother below?”

  Boyd nodded. “What’s going on?” He glanced at the two Russians walking over. “And who are they?”

  “Our helicopter crashed, and they gave us a lift.” Richard leaned into the man and whispered as the others emerged into the chill wind blowing across the flat terrain. “Don’t mention they are SEALs. They are my hired workforce to help with the removal of the meteorite.”

  Confused, Boyd looked at Richard strangely, who continued his conversation normally.

  “Are the cave lions and mammoth out of the permafrost yet?”

  “Yes, they are being prepared for transport. We have a ship with cold storage facilities to prevent them from thawing standing by to receive them. A cargo helicopter is coming in the morning to collect them.”

  Richard’s attention flicked to his meteorite. If they could dig it out in time, he could get the helicopter to take it as well. Deep in logistical thought, he joined the two Russians at the edge of the crater peering into the massive hole that was considered to be the world’s biggest mega slump.

  “Is impressive,” stated Nicolai, waving an arm across the huge crater. “Is bigger than I thought.”

  “And it’s continually growing,” informed Richard. “The experts believe it might even reach Moscow and swallow the Kremlin whole.”

  Stunned by the revelation, Nicolai gawped at Richard and noticed the smile on his lips. “Ah, English humor. Is funny as thirsty Russian trapped in a blizzard with empty bottle of vodka.”

  Colbert crossed to the bewildered scientist. “How do we get down?”

  Boyd pointed along the crater edge. “There’s a metal rope ladder, safety line, and harness.”

  Colbert glanced at the spikes the safety line and ladder were anchored to a short distance away that Mason went to check were secure before focusing back on Boyd. “Do you have a radio to contact Richard’s brother?”