Genus: Evolving

Somewhere north of Flathead National Forest, Loni was tired. The drive was long. There was nothing being broadcast on the radio. The person who owned the truck left nothing exciting or even interesting to her generation in the cabin, so she and her brother were stuck talking. And now, the sun was setting so there wouldn’t be anything to look at besides asphalt.

“This magazine,” Tim started to ask, breaking the silence. “Wasn’t this dad’s research?”

“His life’s work,” Loni replied, almost correcting. “Why?”

“He’s not mentioned at all. The article says it’s the CEO’s own son who is responsible for this groundbreaking discovery.”

Loni was stunned, “Someone must have undermined dad’s role. I bet that pissed him off.”

“I’m pissed off for him,” Tim replied.

More silence fell between them, listening to the humming of the truck’s engine and the monotony of the sound of the tires on the asphalt as they drove along.

“Will you teach me how to drive?” Tim asked again.

“You’re too young,” Loni answered, barely even listening to him. She wished for duct tape, but he would see her coming.

“Do you seriously think a cop is going to bust us right now? Besides, mom taught you how to drive when you were my age.”

Loni slammed on the breaks, “Fine.”

She climbed out, ran around the truck and climbed in, forcing Tim to move to the drivers’ side with her butt.

“Don’t crash,” she said simply.

Tim, looking like a deer caught in the headlights of the truck he was now operating cautiously moved the gear into drive and took his foot off the gas. Loni stopped even watching him.

“How do you turn on the headlights?”

Loni reached over and turned them on, hand over hand with Tim.

Tim started to drive the truck, surprisingly smoothly, down the road. Loni, almost immediately after he took over, fell asleep.

* * *

“Loni, look!”

Loni quickly woke up, looking up to see a lit town with people outside enjoying the moonlight. They were in some campgrounds, around a large fire. Some people were sitting, some people were dancing.

“Do you think they have gas? We’re almost out…” Tim asked, already turning into the area.

“Worth a look, but be ready to leave, just in case.”

Tim silently heeded her words; he cautiously and slowly turned the truck toward the group of people. He parked away from them, trying to not intimidate. He locked the truck and kept the keys close when he and Loni walked across the parking lot and toward the people.

The motion and excitement from the group of people halted when the truck approached them. They began whispering to each other and ushered for someone when the siblings came closer to them. They were audible, so there wasn’t a fear of creating noise, or of attracting unnecessary attention.

“Hello!” Tim started, ignoring Loni’s attempts to quiet him before saying too much. “We’re just passing through, but we need gas, then we’ll be on our way. We don’t want any trouble.”

“We give only to those approved of by the Bishop,” a tall, gangly man in front said.

We’re ridiculously outnumbered, Loni thought. They’re starting to walk around and toward us. We’re going to have to fight our way out.

“Once he approves, we can give your truck gasoline,” the gangly guy said. His voice was unsettling.

“Thank you, we’ll meet your Bishop and hope for approval,” Tim said.

Loni was grateful for stopping at the one place in that one town… she found a manageable .380 hiding behind a counter with plenty of ammunition around. Now, with it in the small of her back, she felt confident she could defend Tim long enough for him to reach the truck, if need be.

The crowd parted, a leader – most likely the Bishop – walked through. He was dressed the best of the group, the best groomed, and the healthiest looking.

“Are you passing through, looking for supplies?” The Bishop asked. His voice silenced any whispers or voices in the area. His presence felt like it would extinguish the fire behind him.

Tim encouraged Loni to step up and take over the conversation. Tim started to feel the same way in the presence of the Bishop, air itself was standing still and an eerie, void of life, silence fell over every individual that was standing – starting to move to surround them – around.

“Yes, sir,” Loni answered.

“You both are more than welcome here,” the Bishop interjected. “What we have, you may have.”

“We need fuel for our truck,” Loni replied.

“Get it for them,” The Bishop ordered one of the people.

“Do you need anything?” Loni asked, “I can have my brother get you something from our truck.”

“That is not necessary,” the Bishop said. His voice was sending chills up Loni’s spine. “Time and company are the most precious commodities in the world. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Follow me,” he insisted, turning toward a camp building.

This isn’t good, Tim realized they were being surrounded. And his ax was in the truck. The one time he decided to leave it behind.

Loni knew she was in the proverbial corner, she would have to obey and find an opening to start her defense. It was not a matter or if, but when. She followed him, Tim was trailing along behind.

When they reached the building the Bishop led them to, they saw it; a globster, the size of an adult man, bright red, with a strong exoskeleton. The creature was long since deceased, stunk of decay, and was anchored to the ceiling using fishing twine to connect to the tentacles.

The candles along the floor, on the tables were lit and cast an eerie glow on an already unsettling sight.

“Our leader foretold you were coming,” the Bishop said.

“This?” Tim asked before thinking.

“They,” the Bishop corrected. “When we first found each other, when this magnificent being first reached land, we knew our savior was here.”

“Do you know where they came from? How did they get here?” Loni asked.

“They have not told me,” the Bishop confessed. “I do not ask, but I do not expect what information our savior chooses to bestow upon me.”

“How… Does it talk to you?”

“I… feel… their words. They speak as clearly as I hear you now, but it comes from my mind,” the Bishop answered, explaining in awe and reverence toward the globster.

“Since they came on land?”

“After. I physically saw one moving inland, and heard the thoughts. They were uncertain, confused, and they chose to communicate with mankind – with me.

“My brother, a horrible insomniac, ran past me, screaming about an animal biting him. Of course, I believed the whole situation to be a sleep-deprived hallucination, but he was bleeding so I followed his blood trail to this.” He indicated to the globster, “This wonderful being chose me…”

She remembered reading about that man – Tony, if she remembered correctly – about a month after she lost contact with her father; she was searching for him online when the news article was on her social media feed. She couldn’t believe the world changed so much in around two months…

But she couldn’t afford to allow her mind to wander, “That is incredible.”

“The wonderful creature… it passed long before we found this place, long before they grew this large…”

Others were showing up in the doorway.

“Your brother,” the Bishop began, “may go ahead to the truck, but I wish to speak with you a while longer.”

Tim was hesitant, and stepped closer to Loni, but the gangly guy was in the doorway with a large jerry can filly with gasoline.

“Go ahead Tim,” Loni suggested. It wasn’t a necessarily safe choice to be separated, but at least Tim could fuel up the truck and get away if need be. “I’ll be there in just a minute.”

Tim was still hesitant, but he seemed to understand her way of thinking instead of arguing with her. He thanked the gangly guy and carried the jerry can to the truck where he started to fill up the tank.

Two men, each brandishing a shotgun, followed Tim to the truck.

* * *

“Our followers have begun to leave, this new world has proven difficult for many of the women,” the Bishop said. He gestured for her to sit across from him.

“It’s a challenge,” Loni agreed. “Homesteading isn’t for everyone.”

“Definitely not,” the Bishop replied sadly, “I lost my wife long before our savior came; many of us lost our companions along the way. This journey here is far more difficult than the lifestyle.”

“I can see that,” Loni agreed, “The trip hasn’t been easy by car, I couldn’t imagine anyone doing it on foot.”

“But you’re different,” the Bishop said suddenly. “Do you sense it?”

“Different how?” Loni asked.

“I cannot tell you that now,” the Bishop answered, “Perhaps soon though…”

“I really think I should get back to my brother now…” Loni felt her heart drop into her stomach. She was surrounded, and a 10-round magazine was nowhere near enough to fight her way out. She would have to aim very well, just stun, and push her way out.

“I knew you were coming, I was told you would be here. Your purpose and the savior’s are intertwined,” the Bishop stated. “But we must all wait for our turn for answers.”

“I’m going to have to wait for my answers elsewhere,” Loni replied, trying to see if she was misreading the situation and she would be able to escape easily.

“You need to wait for your answers with us,” the Bishop continued, “but you won’t wait long; this I can promise you.”

Loni retrieved her .380 from the small of her back. She used their distance to her advantage, taking the Bishop and aiming the barrel to his temple.

“And all of you are going to let me go,” Loni finished, talking toward the individuals who were coming into the building to help.

* * *

“This is taking too long,” Tim told himself. He couldn’t see the house from the truck, but he felt something was wrong. He could feel his mother talking about how important family is; since their father took a job with NexGen in a lab up north, they relied more heavily on each other than ever before. He and Loni fought, but he knew she was there for him. Now, come hell or high water, he would be there for her.

He started the engine, rousing the attention of his guards who were more focused on something else rather than watching him. Before they could take aim, the truck encouraged them to quickly jump out of the way as Tim drove toward the house.

The crowd jumped, ran, sprinted, and climbed out of his way as the truck headed toward the Bishop’s house. As he rounded the corner, the engine suddenly failed. The audience was gawking at something behind him. Loni, holding the Bishop at gunpoint, was also looking off into the distance.

Tim looked through the rear-view mirror to see a still-living globster. The creature was walking on the tentacles, high up using the very ends of the tentacles as feet. It was making a soft, yet deep bellowing noise as it came through the trees to the camp.

“The savior!” the people were yelling. Many fell to their knees in reverence of the creature.

The globster glowed briefly, emitting an electrical-sounding wave through the air. The two guards Tim almost ran over were inside the wave, and they ceased moving.

“It’s angry!” more of the people were yelling, and began to flee.

The Bishop pushed out of Loni’s grasp and ran north, into the trees. Loni sprinted forward, toward the truck. She saw Tim shifting to the passenger’s side and she quickly climbed into the drivers’ side.

“Why is it off?” she panted.

“I don’t know.”

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t.”

Loni looked over her shoulder at the approaching globster. Fortunately, it was slow. She pulled the keys out and tried again, this time the engine begrudgingly turned over. She drove the truck between buildings, whatever path would lead her out of the woods and back toward Alaska.

“How did you fix it?” Tim asked, his adrenaline high.

“It short-circuits electrical systems…” Loni panted, again looking back at the globster, which emitted a loud bellow that made her blood run cold. “Our brains are an electrical system.”

“That wave shuts people off?”

“It looks like it.”