What Happened To The Scientists Crate?

The hike through the jungle is long, spanning several hours walk and for each one you silently contemplated ditching your flats as opposed to going barefoot, ultimately deciding discomfort is preferable to potential injury.

The ranger had explained to you hours previously that in the rush to collect the scientist they forgone the crate hoping to come back for it later.

Currently the group was only able to dispatch three of you, you, the ranger and the soldier, the ranger walks ahead of both you and the soldier by several feet leading the way.

You feel a small nudge in your side looking over you see the soldier who leans in close before asking.

“You ever get the feeling you’re being watched….?” Her eyes are narrowed at you and her voice is low, you think back to what the cop had told you.

You decide to validate her response, it wouldn’t help the cause to try to cover up what might potentially be an important factor.

“Y.. yeah… I do… keep an eye out…” you say prompting a nod from the soldier who marches ahead of you towards the ranger.

The jungle is sweltering and you had downed your bottle of water an hour ago, at least working the graveyard shift at the hospital let you work in air conditioning.

Finally it appears you reach the site of the crate as the ranger rushes ahead and out of sight, the soldier soon running in after her.

You shove aside some foliage to regroup with your companions, you both stand at the foot of a massive tree, almost as large as a sequoia, high in its branch’s you see a crate that dangles by the cables of its parachute that seems wrapped up in its branches.

“Ok… so… what’s the plan…?” You ask looking up at the dangling care package.

“Well the way I see it, there’s no way we get that crate down without it crashing… so what we should do is have someone climb up into the tree and cut those cables…”

“Cool… I’m gonna go over here now… and guard… stuff..” The soldier says before wandering away.

The ranger sighs, before pulling out a pair of climbing gloves from her pocket, slowly walking around the base of the tree before finding a sufficient starting point and starting her trek upwards.

Not able to contribute you pull your gun from your pocket, examining it.

It’s a small thing, easily concealable, and it fits easily in your hands as you turn it over slowly trying to memorize the bits and pieces that make up the handheld **** multiplier.

It takes some time but eventually the ranger reaches a position when she can cut at several cords connecting the crate to its parachute causing it to drop down, with a loud crash sending pieces of wood and dust into the air.

Slowly you start to sift through the debris pulling out what seems to be a brief case, pulling it free from the wreckage you lay it out in the dirt before popping it open.

Inside there are various documents and photographs documenting the presence of some kind of extraterrestrial visiting earth on several occasions.

Apparently the things been encountered everywhere from the jungles of Val Verde to the streets of Los Angeles hell even an archaeologist claims to have encountered several in temple in the arctic along with a second alien species.

Of course no concrete evidence seems to have been recovered, all of these encounters seem to end with an explosion that destroys the evidence, with the exception of the arctic encounter in which the lone survivor presented a spear as evidence of her story.

“So… the scientist is a crackpot…?” Soldier says tossing a document she had been skimming through back into the briefcase.

“Crackpot or not it has to be connected somehow if our captors decided to make this her contribution to the group…” says the ranger before she recollects the documents and closes the case.

The soldier simply blows her off before walking to the edge of the clearing. “Whatever… if nothing else it’ll make for some good kindling for the fire…”

And so your journey back begins, you silently start cursing yourself for bringing the scientists crate up at all and even more so for volunteering to come with.

You examine your gun as you walk, frankly it’s the only thing you can do to take your mind off your aching feet.

When suddenly you hear a lone voice behind you. “You ever get the feeling you’re being watched.…?”

You turn around expecting to see the soldier but… you don’t see anyone, but it sounded exactly like her, even down to the cadence like a recording!

You hand grips your gun tightly as you back up trying to stay with the group.

How the hell do you explain this to the others? At a time like this you can’t undermine your credibility, especially over something you can’t actually prove happened.

If you did you might run the risk of being brushed off when an immediate danger is imminent.

For now all you can do is stick to the group and watch the rear, gun clenched in your hands until your knuckles turn white.

“Hey… we should pick up the pace if we want to get back before dark…” you say glancing at the orange-ish colored sky.

“Good call we don’t want to be caught out here in the dark…” says the ranger as both she and the soldier break into a jog and your all too happy to join them despite the pleading from your feet to rest.

The sun has fallen below the horizon as you arrive back at camp, sweating and exhausted as you try not to collapse into the dirt, finally safe at the edge of the campfire that flickers softly at the center of camp.

You also spot 2 small tents erected around said campfire and 4 sleeping bags rolled out besides them.

It was clear whoever organized this wanted the group to fight over who got to sleep in the tents and who had to sleep out in the dirt.

The cops theory is looking better and better by the second. You let the others fight over who gets the tents, each person bringing an argument to the table.

The soldier and cop thinks one tent should be used by the camp guards in between shifts and the other be used by the scientist until they’re back on their feet.

The cook thinks they deserve the tent because without her food and water, we’d all die.

Then the ranger states that the scientist will get one and everyone will draw straws for the other one.

This seems appease everyone and the ranger gathers several strands of tall grass before offering a piece to each member of the party.

Ultimately the tent goes to you, which seems to piss everyone off especially considering that you never even made a case for why you should get the tent.

But alas everyone goes along with the decision that you get the tent and go to claim a sleeping bag for themselves.

You retire to your newly gained tent, more than happy to finally have an opportunity to rest your feet.

And with that you drift into a deep sleep hoping distantly that when you awaken you’ll be back in your own bed once more.

A jolt wakes you hours later, jostling you from your slumber you look up with bleary eyes and see the face of the cop.

“Get up! They’ve made their move!” She says before charging out of your tent once she’s satisfied with your alertness level.

You crawl out of your tent on wobbly legs, still not fully recovered from the day of marching across the jungle, rain beats down on the muddy dirt like bullets.

You look for your companion’s immediately spotting the soldier who seems to be emptying her magazine into a section of the jungle.

The ranger appears to be dismantling the tent the scientist had been housed in and fashioning it into a kind of sled to pull the scientist on.

The chef appears to be panicking taking cover behind whatever she can find, fearing return fire from the unknown enemy.

Meanwhile the cop has begun bundling up supplies to take with, bits and pieces of everything from food and water to ammunition.

You rush over to your doctors bag, hoisting it over your shoulder before rushing over to the ranger.

“What the hell happened…?! What’s out there…?!” You ask as you tie either side materiel together to cradle the wounded for easier support.

“Whoever’s out there fired a warning shot at the camp fire, it looked like some kind of energy!”

She attempts to call out to the others to gather near by but only the chef manages to sprint over to regroup.

“Fuck… ok…” She says trying to think out a plan when it suddenly comes to her. “Ok you located the derelict right…?!”

The chef nods before replying. “Yeah me and the cop..!” you’re guessing you’ll need to follow the chefs lead on this one.

“Ok… we’ll split up and rendezvous there….!” She says looking back over at the others.

“W… wait where the hell are you going…?!” Asks the chef the fear in her voice completely taking over her tone.

“Someone needs to relay the plan to the others, you need to stay by her side to make sure her condition doesn’t worsen and you know the way to the derelict..!” She says looking to both you and the chef respectively.

Well this isn’t a great plan, it’s not even really a good plan, but it’s A plan, one that you desperately need in order to feel some sense of control over the situation.

So both you and the chef start hauling the scientist into the woods, rain beats down on all three of you as you listening out for directions that the chef periodically gives for you to follow.

You hurry across the dirt only going as fast as you can safely transport a woman with potential brain injury along the jungle floor.

You push aside shrubbery and tall grass blocking your path when suddenly you trip over a dip in the dirt that you hadn’t noticed sending you to the ground.

As you climb back to your feet you both hear a noise, something between a growl and a chittering noise like if a cheetah tried to mimic a cicada.

You both freeze for a moment, locking eyes with each other before she suddenly breaks away, far too fast for you to keep up with her, you hear footsteps nearby, heavy ones.

That chittering growl grows closer to you and you reach for your gun pointing it in the direction of the thumping footsteps but you see nothing.

Suddenly you hear it, slightly muffled with a gravelly voice, it speaks a language you know can’t be of human origin.

“Yeyin ooman” it states and you feel something press onto the top of your head, it feels like a hand but you can feel sharp nails at the end of each finger as it gently pets you as though to soothe you, or reward you, your so frightened that you freeze up,

And then just like that, it’s gone again, the heavy footsteps fade as the creature walks away from you.

Heading in the direction in which the chef fled, moments later you hear a distant scream, a cry of anguish that is cut short.

As you’re left there pondering what you’ve just witnessed, your mind races as you try to come to terms with it all.

The documents, they all describe this very thing, a large extraterrestrial with the ability to cloak itself.

But… why spare you…? When it no doubt just killed the chef, and what’s more it seemed adoring, like it’s approved of something you’ve done.

You tug your **** companion forward, finding a small cave, frankly it’s more like a dip in the rock that offers minimal shelter from the rain.

You drop your make shift sled once your both safe from the rain and you wait, you don’t have any food, water, and by now all the firewood out there is probably drenched.

So you wait, when suddenly you notice something, it’s faint, so faint that you hardly even take notice at first.

There’s a discrepancy in the rain fall, several raindrops explode far before they hit the ground, creating a frame of slowly dripping water.

The frame, vague as it is, you’re able to make a rough draft in your mind, it stands tall, and muscular, then you hear it again.

That familiar growling chittering noise, followed by a voice, the perfectly imitated voice of one of your companions.