The Obscura Anomaly
Act 3 - Part 1. A trip to the beach
The boats landed before dawn. Tomek jumped into the freezing water with the rest of his men and took his place at the back of the column. They waded ashore quietly, their heads on a swivel with every step.
Harper stayed in the middle like he’d been told, moving in rhythm with the unit. Tomek never let his eyes wander too far from his paymaster. Technically a man, Harper’s small frame made him stand out, easy to spot, a boy amongst men. They trudged up the beach in silence, boots squelching in the silt. Some of the unit turned back to watch the zodiacs leave.
“They’ll be back,” Tomek called to those watching. “Well, they’d better be,” he joked, pushing the men forward.
Sunup was an hour away.
Once up in the trees, Tomek had the men do a comms check. Nothing worked. They persisted for a few minutes, the clock ticking. Feedback screeched on every channel, every handset useless.
“It doesn’t change the plan,” Tomek whispered to Harper. He told the men to dump the radios and use torch flashes to signal when they were in position. There was a calmness in his voice even he was surprised to hear. If there was an emergency, they’d use flares. The men nodded in unison. They all knew what to do.
The fire teams spread out. Alpha to the east, Bravo and Charlie west. Tomek and Harper would head to the observation point he’d marked from the reconnaissance photos. He watched the men disappear into the greens and blacks of the canopy until they were gone.
“Time to watch your money at work,” he nudged Harper.
They followed a path from the beach that rose up a slope until it plateaued into a cliff. Against the sky, the volcano loomed, its shape heavy in the night.
Tomek saw the glow of orange on the horizon as they neared the edge, an aura rising with each step.
“Careful,” Tomek told the boy. “We’re close.”
He signaled Harper to get down, and they crawled on their bellies across a patch of grass to some rocks overlooking the cliff.
The camp sprawled across the cove, from treeline to beach to sea. A dozen campfires burned into the sky. Tents and makeshift shelters crowded the shore, the shapes of people sleeping just about visible. Rocks curved round the beach, hiding it from the rest of the island. From here, they had a perfect view.
The photos had been worth it.
Tomek scanned the beach with his binoculars. He handed them to Harper and pointed southeast.
“Alpha will set up there. Bravo and Charlie sweep from the west.”
“So we catch them in the middle?” Harper said proudly.
“Once Alpha starts firing, they’ll either run or dig in. Either way, there’s nowhere to hide.”
“A kill zone,” Harper said, pleased.
“Exactly.”
Tomek studied the boy’s eyes, watching the plan play out in his head. Not a day had gone by since they met that Tomek hadn’t wondered what he was enabling this child to do. And every other day he wondered if the story was true.
The men had celebrated Harper’s twenty-first birthday with drink and song just days ago. Now they were here at his behest, ready to do his bidding, the sanctity of their souls in his hands.
“There’s children,” Harper said quietly, still peering through the binoculars.
“And?” Tomek frowned. He watched Harper wrestle with the thought, the reality sinking in.
“Nothing. It changes nothing,” Harper said, handing the binoculars back. “It has to be done.”
Cold.
They stayed silent, watching the camp. Tomek felt the question burn inside him — was it real? The secret Harper swore lay beneath the island. Did it exist?
As if reading his thoughts, Harper looked at him directly.
“I can feel it, you know,” he said. “Like something at the back of my neck. I was mute when they found me, because we didn’t need words.”
“I saw the reports,” Tomek said, turning back. He’d read everything about what had happened, every medical note, every memorandum, every order he could dig up.
“The thing was, I could talk. I just didn’t want to. I think it told me not to.”
Tomek checked his watch. Sunup was twenty minutes away. He stole a glance at Harper, staring out over the sea.
“When they found me, the doctors said it was trauma. But it wasn’t. It was like I’d been given a secret to keep. And I didn’t dare open my mouth.”
Tomek heard the strain in his voice. The boy was trying to make sense of what he had unleashed. Tomek didn’t blame him.
“They killed your family, Harper. Fuck ’em,” he said. “Fuck all of them. Fuck their kids. Fuck this place. Pirates. Scum.”
And finally:
“They’re murderers.”
Tomek waited for a reaction, but none came.
“They can’t leave. You need absolute silence to make this work. From top to bottom, not a word leaves this island.”
Harper nodded.
“They don’t belong here anymore,” Tomek assured him. “We don’t need to be sorry.”
Two flashes blinked from across the cove, interrupting them. Tomek pointed it out to Harper, then flashed back: message received.
“That’s Alpha.”
A few moments later came two more from Bravo and Charlie.
“Okay. They’re in position.”
Tomek watched Harper closely, waiting for hesitation, remorse, fear. There was nothing. Only belief. Malice. Emptiness.
The first rays of sunlight spread across the horizon, painting the beach in its glow. Tomek noticed what he thought was seaweed littering the sand. Looking closer, he realized it was wires.
“What the hell…?”
TVs. Radios. Cookers. Fridges. All butchered into shelters. Cables ran everywhere — up into the treeline, across the sand, around the sleepers’ feet. The ground looked covered in snakes. For a moment Tomek thought the coils were moving, writhing, but it was just the light.
He looked at Harper and decided against final words. He flashed the torch three times, holding the last beam.
The first shot cracked like a whip.
Tomek didn’t see the victim until the screaming started, a pile of rags rising from the sand, arms flailing. Another shot, and the head burst into red mist.
“That’s the rifleman,” Tomek whispered. “Now comes the support.”
The air roared with the buzz-saw bursts of heavy machine guns, echoes circling the cove. Explosions thudded across the beach. Another gun joined in, their rasping chorus cutting through the dawn. Heads popped up behind tents, eyes wide with horror. Gunfire shredded shelters, spraying dirt and splinters. People scattered like a wave breaking. Tomek watched as tables overturned and bodies trampled each other. Shouts of panic filled the air.
As soon as someone reached the edge of camp, the other teams opened fire. Tomek saw the recognition flash across their faces a split second before the bullets tore them apart. A mother clutching her baby stumbled as rounds punched through her back. She fell forward, covering the child with her own body as more bullets raked her. The cries were drowned out by more gunfire.
Within a minute, it was over.
Tomek turned to Harper. The boy was watching, eyes shining with awe.
“It’s done,” Tomek said.