Excerpt

We were some fifty feet on our way under the trestle. It was a clear sky above, and that held both promise and threat, for we were uniquely visible under the tracks, coupled with our shadows, which made for vastly larger moving targets slowly creeping along the ground. We were never sure how good the gorgons could actually see; we just knew that their visual acuity and tracking were based on object motion, and that they had the ears of a bat. I looked down at my shadow, willing it to shrink smaller, when I suddenly noticed something out of the tail of my eye. There came the simultaneous threatening pulse on the m-deck, signaling movement to our north. I looked in that direction.

And then I saw what stopped my heart and took my breath away.

There, flying towards us along the river, suspended between earth and sky in glorious beauty, to our eternal satisfaction and in defiance of our ever-present danger, came one of the most lovely things I had ever seen, and something I will never forget: a sight of beautiful majesty, and a gracious gift of wonder that stopped my breath.

A Great Blue Heron: a glorious testament to nature, flying bold and free.

My heart was in my throat, but I managed to squeak out a whisper, "hold up!" and we all froze. Each of them ahead of me whipped their heads frantically around in all directions to determine my reason for the halt. But they all noticed it quick enough…a sight of splendor flying in our general direction. Where it came from, no one knew…and what arcane destination called him: that was also unclear. All we knew was, for that moment, time stood still: this beautiful avian creature was the purest non-human we'd seen in years. With its orangish-yellow beak and pinhole eyes set back from its long white crest, and that distinctive black spur off the back of its head flailing up against the wind, it quickly became apparent that it was fishing. What fish remained in the Cumberland was anyone's guess, but the heron appeared to be on to something, because its head twitched back and forth with every beat of its wings, gliding and thrusting back upwards, looking to and fro.

I heard Rutty breathe out a long, awestruck "whoa…" and I could just make out his cheeks thrust upwards in a smile ahead of me. I looked back at the heron: it was beautiful. It let out a gorgeous squawk.

For a moment, time and space entered a state of suspended animation as we beheld its glory; undimmed, untarnished, natural, earthly, raw, splitting the air with its perfect strokes, oblivious to war or famine or dread.

It let out another squawk, more like a honk.

That was too loud. My smile faded.

And then it was gone.

The gorgon came out of nowhere, from up ahead and to our left, summoned to action by the infernal noise of the intruder who dared to venture into its domain. We saw the mist first…it preceded the missile that shot up from the far bank to our northeast, and the heron disappeared in a plume of feathers and vapor. We heard a squawk and a splash as the gorgon brought it down. I could dimly make out the sound of frenetic splashing, but no muted sounds of bird calls or anything that might signify survival.

I swallowed hard, my eyes moistening; I heard Trudy choke back a cry.

The lull that followed belied the future, giving us a moment of despondent pause in reverence for the fallen heron.

And just then, in a flurry of pulse activity, the m-deck went wild. Bassett slowly looked down at the display, terrified of any sudden movement. The top of the display was lit up like a Christmas tree. Something was drifting down the display toward us. Something big.

Without a word, Rutty and Trudy put their backs to the train trestle frame, facing us. They couldn't see the river as their backs were turned; I don't think they wanted to look anyway.

And that's when we saw the rest of them. There, before us, about three hundred feet ahead past a last ridge of trees, a swarm of gorgons silently ascended, moving closer. Blue-green mist encircled them as a fog, and all of us felt a wave of fear wash over us, gripping our weapons tighter. As if on group sentry, the cavalcade of gorgons was looking around this way and that, a haunting sentry post full of their filthy kind. We had no doubt that we would be espied, there, leaning into the railings that supported the elevated train, as they bobbed their filthy necks, searching.

There was nothing we could do but remain absolutely still. Their visual acuity would have to see us breaking formation, and walking or running away. I had a cartoonish thought that hopefully my shadow wasn't flickering on the ground. Why oh why did we come this way?

The m-deck continued to pulse and vibrate. We didn't need the reminder of the approach of our enemy; Bassett and I could see it plainly for ourselves. A dense throng of pale gray silhouettes shrouded in vapor began to fan out, slowly, awakened to a new and deadly vigilance despite the noonday sun.

"Keep absolutely still," Bassett muttered.

Like we needed that reminder, I thought. I was confused: Command should have picked up the gorgon signals by satellite if they had been there for a while, at least if satellites were still flying over, surely they would have picked it up and relayed the intel of their location. Why didn't they tell us?

We could see all of them, clustered together and yet thinning out at various elevations and distances, looking around solemnly. We were too far away for them to lock onto with whatever it was that they did to freeze people where they stood, but they were still drawing ever nearer. Command came through dimly on my headset: "Stand by."

Stand by? What? What did that mean? Stand by for what? My brows furrowed, and I looked over at Bassett. He didn't turn towards me, but I could see his calm and collected eyes flicker over at me for a second as he watched the gorgons fan out. Why was he so composed?

Stand by for what?!? I didn't understand. Rutty threw a confused look my way and shut his eyes. I could see his mouth moving in silent prayer. I looked over at Trudy. She was cold and still, eyes glued to Bassett.

Bassett nonchalantly echoed the mysterious order: "Roger, standing by." I looked at him suspiciously. What was going on here? I kept still and turned my attention back toward the river.

That's when the flash hit. Due southwest, about three miles away. Like a nuke had gone off. Rutty and Trudy shut their eyes as the sky illuminated in the white light of a thousand stars, eating up the sun. I turned and had no idea what it was. That's when the sonic wave hit us. It began as a low hum, and then swelled into a dull thunder as it rolled over the fills. And gathering speed, it at last cascaded into a bellowing note-laden undulating boom that enveloped us and shook the dust from the stilts and beams of the trestle. We all looked up, fearing the structure would collapse.

We were steamrolled. A giant wave of elements swept over us like a rolling pin. Everyone else's screams blended into mine. There was no pain…only volume. Loud, cacophonous volume, but on notes undetectable by me. Hideous notes blended into screaming wind as the thunderous shockwave enveloped us.

I turned back to the Cumberland. The gorgons still gathered there had been watching intently, though unable to clearly see what happened. Then the blast hit them.

When one gorgon screams, it is cause for alarm. When fifty of them scream like that, you wet your pants. I nearly soiled mine. The dissonant shrieks and terrified cries of these alien beings en masse were absolutely horrifying and gut-wrenching to hear. They flitted about angrily. Some smashed down into the water. Nothing in my heart approached the realm of any semblance of pity, as I sat rooted in horror watching them convulse and tear madly at their own bodies in a vain attempt to stop the audio assault on their frail forms. Most didn't come back up. All of their eyes reflexively bulged, and poisonous cold mist swirled; their long bony arms went to their ears and covered them, as they wailed in pain and fled shrieking into the sky, racing away west in a dark throng against the clouds. We could hear the last of their howls trail off into an uncertain expanse before we felt it was okay to breathe again. Where they went, I don't know.

I looked back southwest. The noon sky had faded back to midday, and it seemed like a dream had passed. Or a nightmare. I wasn't sure which.

"What the hell was that?" I scratched at Bassett, not daring to raise my voice still. There was dust all over both of us. All over all four of us, really.

Bassett had held his breath as he watched it all unfold. Now he let it all out, and his head bowed. I swear a good minute passed before he turned to me and whispered two words.

"The beginning."

We looked out over the river. All was quiet. The heron was gone, but so were the gorgons. For now.

The mist thinned, and then finally vanished.

We always had high hopes that we'd find something out here. I just still wasn't sure what might find us.