The Evergreen Files: Banshee; Book One

Solomon had never felt more relaxed in his entire life. Undisturbed sleep. He had been floating in lovely warm water, not too far from the golden sandy beach. Soft music from the metal drums flowed with the breeze to his submerged ears as he lay on his back in the sun, the waves lapping lovingly at his floating form. He could hear the children gleefully play, laughter spread like wild fire on the beach. There was always laughter here. Always smiles. Never any worries. A fat sunburnt man in a yellow vest and karki shorts sat wide legged on the sand, a large steaming hot dog in one hand, and a cold iced black drink in the other.

After just over a week of lazing in paradise, drinking extravagant cocktails, complete with little umbrellas. He lazed in the sand, the water and sometimes the bars. He had spent many nights, mornings and the time in between drunk and happy! But now, now Solomon’s head began to ache. “One week of drinking... and the hangover finally kicks in...” said Solomon rubbing his suddenly tired eyes. His eyes had become red and bloodshot, swollen and heavy. The golden sand began forming dust clouds as a strong wind swept through the once paradise shore line. The sun sank through the sky, below the clouds and then it was devoured by the horizon as if the Gods had prematurely pushed the golden globe down, the temperature plummeted. Solomon, in his shorts and pink flowery open shirt, soon felt the freezing hand of winter, with a shiver, he stopped his floating and ran out of the waist high water to the sand clouds, hoping to find the towel he had left somewhere in the moving sand.

“Bingo!” said Solomon relieved as he spotted his blue towel in the dark yellow sand, quickly running to the woolly warm towel to dry himself and regain some body heat. It was when he wrapped it around his shoulders he heard the noise that sent chills through his very soul. A noise with a colder, ice touch than the hand of winter. A noise he had heard not too long ago.

That wet hissing sound.

Solomon dared a sideways look in the direction of the water and saw them. Three tall, slender, shadowed figures, with glowing blue eyes, staring straight at him, the long sharp claws hanging limply by their sides.

The three just stood there, staring at him. Hissing. Solomon dared to stand full height facing them, only their eyes followed him. Taking slow steps backwards, never taking his eyes from theirs, making his way towards the bars and shops that surely still had the people, tending to the needs of their customers that seemed to have fled the weather of the beach. He was ten meters from the water barrier, main promenade, shops and bars before he noticed further problems. Nobody was to be seen, not even the stray black dog that Solomon sometimes fed his chicken burrito to. Solomon began to feel the hairs stand up on the back of his neck when he heard the water breaking as they three creatures began their advance. Slowly, their slender tall bodies staggered up the cold beach. Solomon made a break for it. Turning on his heels and running as fast as his legs would allow in the soft sand as they sank with every hit, Solomon didn’t even make five strides before he felt a sharp claw clip the back of his left ankle, slicing it open. Falling in agony Solomon turned, frantically reaching for something, anything. He would even be thankful for a beach ball right now to try and defend himself with! Kicking sand at the three Banshees as they advanced slow once more. Fear held his soul in its grasp. No weapon, no armour, no escape.

“Solomon.” came a soft female voice.

“You’re strong, you can pull through this” it came again.

Solomon felt his brow dampen, sweat began to bead around his forehead. ‘this is it’ he thought to himself sorrowfully. “This is how I end?...” he asked the creatures with a sob who simply returned a hiss and bared teeth in response. Advancing closer, the cold hand of death was fast approaching for Solomon, he knew he had to think fast, faster than usual, but his mind was slosh, sodden with mud! He cursed his helplessness extensively. The thinnest Banshee crept within arms reach, its foul breath wreaked of fish, long passed their rotting date. The smell made him wince away from the wet leathery creature that was inching closer and closer. The Banshee was upon him. Slowly lifting its clawed talons, Solomon was paralysed with a fear that was unknown to him previously. The Banshee lowered its gleaming talons softly on to Solomon’s heaving chest almost with care, his breath quickening as the Banshee’s shining stinking smile widened showing more razor teeth, it’s thin lips slowly moving, trying to form a word.

“...Clear...” it hissed. Solomon looked questioningly at the slimy monster.

“Clear!” it called out in an almost human voice before forcing its talons an inch into Solomon’s chest. Screaming out in pain, mostly still paralysed, Solomon was helpless, the Monster began drooling a thick gunk as it enjoyed the blood squirting from the fresh wounds it inflicted upon Solomon. “Clear!” it called again, louder and impaled Solomon again, however this time, it was not the sharp claws cuttings into his muscle and bone he felt, but an electrical pulse, taking over his entire body causing his muscles to tense up and cease to move, his mind felt lazier, his unfocused eyes looked at the monstrous killing machine looking over his helpless body when it fazed out from the deathly pale blue to a white figure wearing a hospital face mask, he could have swore he saw kind eyes looking at him through the white mouth mask before they turned back to the pale killing machine mouthing the same word, over and over again. “Clear” it came again and Solomon was hit even harder with the electrical torture and the masked man with kind eyes returned to replace the creature again, more clearly this time before it became unfocused again. He leaned away from Solomon and began rubbing two small metal hand panels together before holding them out as a floating arm holding a large white tube in it’s gloved hand, squirting a gel upon the panels and the masked figure rubbed them together again. “Clear!” he called and zapped Solomon in the chest once more.

The drowning beach and strong winds faded, the flying sand didn’t bother Solomon any more, the Creatures had vanished and had been replaced by the kind eyed man. The beach had melted away and revealed a white room, Solomon was flanked by multiple white figures. The kind eyed man was muttering things to Solomon holding up the metal shock panels. He was back.

Lyra rested her head near Solomon’s chest, drifting in and out of restless sleep, haunted by the memories of the crimson beasts. Solomon’s slow, steady breathing was all that allowed her to feel anything close to safe this last week. Rising up, falling down, rising up, falling down, rising up, falling down. When Solomon’s chest didn’t rise back up, Lyra knew that there was a problem. She immediately felt for a pulse – no pulse, Solomon had stopped breathing too, Lyra started with chest compressions, ignoring the pain in her recently bandaged chest as her broken ribs reminded her what agony felt like, calling out to the doctor on duty as she started the second set of compressions. “come on!” she spat, “Solomon!” the doctor came rushing over, his half face mask already on his face, covering his mouth and nose showing only his eyes, Lyra allowed him to take control as she took a side role. Moving over to Solomon’s other side, “You’re strong, you can pull through this.” she whispered into his ear. After a minute, the doctor called for the resuscitation panels.

After four shocking attempts Solomon bolted up without warning with a monstrous painful roar, running his hands over his chest frantically and began childishly crying. The Doctor tried to calm Solomon down by saying soothing words to him, however with the sudden outburst from Solomon’s lifeless body he had forgotten to harness the shocking panels, the mere sight of the metal shockers sent Solomon into a frantic frenzy, running towards the door with nothing but fear in his brown eyes.

Lyra forced herself in Solomon’s path, forcing him against a cold metal wall, pain infused with fear is never a good cocktail to throw about the place! Lyra held Solomon against the wall, “Calm down, Sol!” she shouted to get through his crying. Repeating herself for the third time, Solomon seemed to listen, ceasing to whimper and cry like a lost child, he focused his brown eyes upon her, the tears slowed and his heart rate normalised, and without warning he moved his head in and kissed Lyra forcing her to blush as red as the beasts. Pulling herself away, shocked, she slapped Solomon’s cheek as hard as her bruised arm would allow and ran for the door. Solomon had now regained his senses, looked at the Doctor who stood there speechless as Solomon rubbed his cheek bewildered at the stinging red mark there. “Solomon!” boomed the ageing commanding Captain of The Evergreen “Not how I would go about things, but, Welcome back!”.

Solomon blinked, still vacantly rubbing his reddening cheek. An ache spread through his chest and his brain picked up the burning signals coming from his lungs and heart from their lack of movement prior to the shock panels. The floor was as cold as ever, the white washed walls hurt his eyes, as if they had been closed for weeks, his head began to throb as his senses fully returned to him and he recalled the battle on the surface. Still vacantly rubbing his cheek, he was turned by Kyril who directed him to a new bed, one that was not soaked with sweat and was clean. “Lieutenant Commander, how good of you to join us!” rejoiced the kind eyed doctor, black wild curls had sprouted on the underside of his scrub cap, he pulled down his scrub mask to reveal a wide toothy smile almost covered with a thick black beard. Solomon knew the face, but not the name. “I thought I’d lost you for a moment their my good man! God be praised you came back to us! You must have pissed off both parties to come back from the brink like that!” he laughed “Neither Saviour nor Devil wanted you!” joined in Kyril, Solomon nodded, not really listening, it was all just white noise to him now. “Shit.” breathed Solomon, Kyril asked him what the matter was, and the doctor asked if he needed anything for the pain, but Solomon shook his head, “Shit” he said again, “I just kissed Lyra...” his head was in his hands now, The doctor simply shrugged, chuckled and excused himself, Kyril slapped Solomon on the back with a coarse laugh, his hand felt limp as it made contact against his back, and Kyril began a coughing fit, the doctor came loyally to his side, mixing something into a cup, and handed it to Kyril who readily knocked it back in one.

Kyril said his goodbye and made his way back to his cabin. Where a pile of paperwork greeted him, just as he left it, making his way to his desk, he pulled out a syringe and filled it with a strange liquid from a small bottle, and promptly injected it into his arm. A file open showing the grotesque images of the ruined corpse that was Frederick, his thin coat, once white now a matt crimson, sticky with congealed blood. His form reduced almost to a skeletal figure, almost all his teeth removed. Someone was making a true effort to hide that this was Frederick, but they simply missed the name tag inside his coat, granted it was small, but surely an oversight. Some other crew had now become reported as missing, having not turned up to their duties, six in total had not turned into work, but nothing had come of anything yet, Kyril had the security teams now patrolling the ship constantly, with images, names and personal details of the missing crew. He had created a team to climb through the entire ships network of utility ducts that carried air around the vessel, to ensure no corpses would turn up in there. Kyril could never have known that the six missing crew had long been killed and expelled into the void of space via the airlock. The killer gazed upon The Evergreen from a porthole across the void, with a malicious smile, clapping softly and mockingly at the portrait of Captain Hyphon for not noticing an extra member on board.

“Idiots, too many fingers in too many pies, bothering too many people... too many traps... yes, too many traps laid now. Not long.” the intruder whispered insanely to themselves with a childlike tone.

The Evergreen sat in low orbit, as if squatting above the planet it had so recently taken its battered and broken children from its murderous grip.

The Infinity lay within the void, its silver body glistening from the distant stars. It was completely alone in the hostile, yet calming environment. The Flu like illness had spread to just more than three quarters of the crew, Captain Gee had to make adjustments to the three shifts that operated on The Infinity. Smaller crew, and longer shifts, he had lost a fair bit of popularity from that, but he had good reason to isolate the infected crew. A reason he was not willing to share with anybody except the medical staff on board yet. The Flu, used to have a dreadful rate of fatality, back in the earlier days of technology, Like the common cold, it couldn’t be avoided sometimes, but unlike the common cold, it could be cured before the more serious effects came into play. A simple pill would kill the Flu over night! But this was not shifting. The ill crew had been confirmed and quarantined to the main Medical bay. Doctors and nurses must wear bio-suits at all times when in the room and with contact with infected. He allowed himself a smile as infection rate slowed to almost a stop. It had been nearly a week now since the last person was quarantined. ‘Let the medical staff do their work, and soon we will be ready to make way!’ He thought to himself as he stroked his podgy cheek, searching for any stubble he may have missed on his daily shave. It was on this day, when he was most relieved he may have stopped the illness that he lost everything. As he sat in his command chair, idly twisting left to right, simply observing his crew go about their usual bridge work, his ear buzzed with an incoming message.

“Command! The medical staff are dead! There are bodies everywhere!”

Gee sat numbly in the leather of his chair.

“Captain?” came another voice, this voice was his Lieutenant Commander. “Captain. Orders?” he asked again, to receive no answer. After a brief pause, the Second in command took action. “Security and combat medical teams, converge on Medical Bay Actual” he barked and the ship slid into Red Alert.

The Medical bay had been torn to shreds. Bodies littered the floor, equally as torn. Blood decorated the walls and ceiling. One body, ripped in half at the waist, lay face down near the door, with one distressing arm stretched out as if reaching for life, that stopped the automatic door from closing properly. The Security Teams cleared the room, making sure no hostile remained, whatever hostile it could be. Only the medical staff that reported to the call noticed that no patients of the infected crew had remained inside the room. It was at that point that one of the nurses removed the bloodied bio-suit helmet of one of the dead, and saw the skin changing to a slimy stretched contorted mask, and then eyes flashed open, shooting an electric blue glare that penetrated the Nurses soul, soon followed by needle sharp teeth penetrating the Nurses skin, spilling fresh warm blood.

After three days of sitting in the medical bay, watching some of the more fortunately wounded getting discharged, free to go back to their duties. Solomon longed to be in the armoury with his soldiers. That’s when it hit him. How many had died? Only seven soldiers of the first company had been injured in the infirmary when he awoke, they had all been discharged now. How many had died? Who had saved him?

Kyril had come in to visit here and there, never staying for long, and never had much to say. Sometimes he seemed to talk privately with the doctor than Solomon. He was always very talented at avoiding questions. “All is well, Sol” was all he would say before smiling and leaving Solomon alone with the medical staff again. Lyra had not come to visit him at all. Kyril did tease Solomon about the kiss, he deeply regretted it. “Not the best situation, mate. I’d of got her a pint of beer first, not screamed like a lunatic, but that’s just me, I’m old fashioned.” smiled Kyril.

On the sixth day, the doors opened once more and a woman from the second company was discharged, she had been bitten by a strange insect that forced her into a cardiac arrest. The bright white walls, seemed darker and duller than ever. ‘just a bit of colour would be nice.’ thought Solomon with a deep sad sigh, he fell back into the fluffy hospital bed pillow with his eyes closed and tried to remember the beach; before it turned depressing and hostile, of course. Solomon heard the slight footsteps of someone approaching his bed, another doctor, here for more damn blood no doubt! Solomon silently cursed the tests he had to endure and purposefully ignored the figure coming to the side of his bed. “Could do with a little bit of colour, couldn’t it, this place? Oh well... poker?” said Lyra as she pulled up a chair next to Solomon. A little flustered, Solomon played a hand with her, casting a nervous smile in Lyra’s direction only to be met with a steely gaze of a professional nurse. Her white uniform looked loose on her, she hadn’t been sleeping well either. Her arm no longer supported the ugly sling, but he could tell her posture was effected by the still hurting ribs.