One Fell Swoop by Allison McDonnell

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Alonzo, Devon and Cameron followed the twisting path of the Janus River as closely as they could. Unfortunately, they were forced to travel at least a hundred yards from the shoreline due to a thick copse of trees and shrubbery which carved out an almost impenetrable barrier between them. With the exception of the strain of the Dunerail's engine as Alonzo again pushed the vehicle to its top speed, the journey toward the source of the heat signal was completely silent. The pilot had relinquished the jumpers to Cameron's capable hands in order for both men to devote their full attention to their individual tasks. Throughout their travels, the latter crewman sat at full attention in the passenger side, visually combing through the brush as he hunted for any additional signs of life that might have been overlooked during Alonzo's earlier search from the mountaintop. Devon had uncharacteristically chosen to occupy the back seat, perhaps to allow Cameron a less obstructed vantage point for the tracking device. Or perhaps it was due to her quickly diminishing ability to mask her emotions regarding the very real possibility that John was forever lost to them.

"Stop here!" Cameron suddenly bellowed, "We're just about on top of the coordinates. Or at least as close as we can get to 'em by 'Rail."

Alonzo slammed his foot to the floor, causing the Dunerail to skid to an abrupt halt and all three jumped out. Devon and Alonzo anxiously followed on either side of Cameron as he made his way to the edge of the thicket and then raised the jumpers to his eyes for a closer inspection.

"Yep, whoever or whatever it is, it should be about seventy-five yards that way," he alerted, gesturing directly toward the overgrown brush.

As he spoke the words, Cameron felt as though his insides were performing wild somersaults, and this was only partly due to his distress over the day's horrible events. In fact, there was something that his compatriots had yet to be told because he simply couldn't bring himself to become the bearer of such bad news. What he had purposely failed to inform them was that Alonzo's original thermal scan which had produced a signal that had barely registered to begin with, was no longer transmitting.

Cameron tried not to speculate as to what this meant beyond the idea that maybe the change in altitude had somehow affected the overall reading. He was eternally grateful that the location had been recorded in the jumper's memory chip and this would permit them to see for themselves what exactly had first caught Alonzo's attention. That is, as long as the cause of the heat source hadn't been washed downstream by the violent current. And this was still a more desirable option than the possibility that John had initially survived his ordeal, but had ended up succumbing to his injuries before he could be rescued. Again, Cameron decided that it was best to focus on the positives and deal with the negatives only when directly confronted.

They ventured into the dense forest with great difficulty. At times, it was necessary for them to use their knives to carve out a path through the seemingly never-ending disarray of untamed shrubbery, winding branches and gnarled, web-like vines. The thunder of the rapids grew louder with each footstep as the group slowly closed in on the coordinates. Cameron stopped to take another thermal reading and was greatly surprised to find that the signal had not only reappeared, it was now stronger than ever. And there was more.

"Hey, guys? Whoever's over there seems to be alive," the crewman excitedly declared as he let the jumpers fall to loosely dangle around his neck. "He's definitely moving around a bit."

The encouraging news infused the team with hope and caused them to further quicken their pace. Seconds felt like hours as they hacked away at looming branches and vines as well as leaves the size of elephant ears to clear their way toward the origin of the signal. At last, the hard earth beneath their feet evolved into a muddy shoreline which then quickly became shallow water. Upon closer inspection, it was apparent that they had stumbled upon the threshold of a large alcove.

Despite being at the river's edge, the multitude of lush foliage seemed to extend in all directions and visibility remained almost nil. The landscape was bathed in near darkness due to the hundreds of towering trees lining the banks whose lush limbs extended so far outward that their tendrils drooped over to dip into the water below. From what the Edenites could ascertain, the depth of the water was only about waist high. However, it was also saturated with seaweed and other vegetation sprouting upward from the floor and the entire area was cluttered with layers upon layers of debris which had drifted in from the current, only to become permanent fixtures. In fact, it was so abundant that the rescue team could literally almost walk on water to reach their still unseen target.

The Edenites felt as though they were submerged in quicksand as they began to awkwardly wade through the obstacle course of flotsam and overgrowth. Cameron again stopped and took another thermal scan.

"He's only about thirty-five yards away," he yelled over the roar of the waters as he pointed toward the opposite corner of the alcove, along the shoreline.

Devon bobbed her head around a cluster of draping branches. "Where? I don't see him!" she exclaimed worriedly.

Still in the lead and with jumpers in hand, Cameron did his best to peer between the thick foliage and various obstructions to more closely inspect the area where the positive read was originating from. He closed in on a location along the bank just a few feet inward from where the river met the mouth of the alcove and his attention was immediately caught by a glimpse of crimson among the surrounding deep emeralds and browns. The image flickered in and out of his line of sight, as if the subject was wildly thrashing around in an attempt to free himself from whatever he'd become entangled in. He was finally rewarded with a clear view of what was obviously some type of garment; most likely a coat or a vest. And getting a glimpse of the numbers '1587' inscribed across the back in bold lettering told Cameron all that he needed to know.

"I found him! It's Danziger!" he hollered, throwing his hands up in the air and letting out a joyful hoot.

The other two simultaneously joined in with their own ecstatic cries of happiness and relief as they continued to struggle across the small body of water toward his location as quickly as possible; all the while yelling Danziger's name and beckoning for him to reply. Although the mechanic didn't orally answer their calls, the flailing and splashing immediately picked up speed and intensity, an obvious sign that he'd heard them and was anxiously awaiting rescue.

"Just hold on, John! Hold on! We're almost there!" Devon encouraged, refusing to be deterred by Danziger's lack of verbal response, as well as by the fact that she still couldn't detect him among the heavy brush.

She also inwardly readied herself for the likelihood that Danziger had been severely wounded. She sincerely hoped that enough time had passed for Magus' injuries to have been stabilized, so that Julia could leave her side in order to attend to John. She didn't want to consider the option that Danziger had already progressed to the point where he was beyond saving.

The rescue team was only a few feet from their destination and they had reached a near panicked state by the time they'd ripped back the leaves and low hanging branches to reveal the origin of the heat signal and the source of the continuing noise.

There was a chorus of horrified gasps and Devon felt as though her heart had ceased to beat as they cast their collective gazes on, not John Danziger, but a Grendler.

The beast was positioned along the alcove's shore and was hunched over with a generous helping of saliva oozing from its mouth. It was currently exerting a considerable amount of energy as it tried to roughly tear free a burgundy Ops vest from a cluster of debris. Upon closer inspection, it became clear that what was making the task all but impossible to accomplish was that the article of clothing was still firmly attached to something: its current owner.

The threesome began to simultaneously scream at the creature, wildly waving their arms in a threatening gesture as they advanced toward the scene.

"Hey! Get outta here!"

"What the hell are you doing? Get away from him!"

"Leave him alone! He belongs to us!"

At first, the Grendler held fast to the vest and let out a series of angry, guttural grunts, as if attempting to explain to them the rules of the Finder's Keepers philosophy that was the staple of the Grendler lifestyle. However, it quickly became glaringly aware to the creature that these latest trespassers on its little piece of the planet were not prepared to listen to reason and, therefore, it grudgingly decided to relinquish its bounty. After all, the beast didn't want to risk upsetting a group of potential clients who might choose to barter with him at some time in the future.

With a frustrated growl, the Grendler backed away from the banks and stalked off. Instead of following the established pathway it had created to gain access to the river, the creature put its agitation and immense strength to good use as it boisterously tore out a new course through the dense thicket and eventually vanished from view. At the same time, Devon, Alonzo and Cameron concentrated their efforts on avoiding the pull of the nearby current as they endeavored the final few steps to reach the subject of the beast's prior tug-of-war.

Now that the Grendler was no longer an issue, the team was shocked to realize that there was no further movement; basically revealing that the struggle over the vest had been a one-sided one. There was a collective shudder when they also noticed that he was lying face down with his arms stretched outward and loosely dangling on top of the water.

Alonzo forced himself to ignore the alarm bells blaring in his ears signifying that they had indeed arrived too late.

"It's okay, John. We've got you now," he assured, firmly grabbing the man's shoulder and pulling him upright to face the sky.

Yet again, their hearts sank into their stomachs and their mouths went agape as they looked upon, not John Danziger, but a different person; someone whom they'd never seen before.

"What the hell is going on here? Who's this guy?" Cameron asked, exasperated.

Alonzo closely examined the remains of Damon Duffett who, much like the other corpse that had been found on the mesa, was clothed from head to toe in Eden Project attire. This latest body had obviously been the unwilling recipient of a multitude of broken bones and lacerations, courtesy of the unforgiving rapids. However, as bad as the relentless pummeling must have been, the pilot was willing to bet that it had paled in comparison to receiving the large bullet hole that he'd sustained in his abdomen. He poked his finger through the puncture in the man's shirt, noting the powder burns lining the edges, indicating that he had been shot at point blank range.

"He's probably from the group that attacked Magus and Danziger," he spat, the disappointment and contempt dripping from his voice. "I'll check for an ID."

Devon studied the burly, ungroomed man and considered what despicable role he might have played in the assault of her loved ones. Dozens of emotions were bubbling toward the surface and it was just a matter of selecting which one should lead the charge. As it happened, Devon chose one of the strongest feelings that she had; one which she didn't use much, but knew that she could always depend upon, if needed: rage.

Just as Alonzo reached outward to check Duffett's neck for dog tags, Devon lurched forward and grabbed the man by the lapels of his jacket and roughly yanked him toward her.

"Hey! Wake up! You're not getting off this easy!" she yelled, letting go of him momentarily in order to brutally smack him across the face.

Devon's eyes were wide with fury as she shook him. "What have you done with Danziger? Where is he?" she demanded through gritted teeth. "Answer me, dammit! Tell me where he is!"

Alonzo and Cameron were struck dumb by Devon's outburst. The pilot also noted that, as Devon manhandled Duffett, his head was flopping back and forth like a doll, indicating that his neck bone was no longer attached to the rest of his body.

"He's dead, Devon," he said, trying to be as calm as he possibly could. "There's nothing more we can do here except try to identify the corpse and see if it gives us any clues about what happened."

Despite Alonzo's rationalization, there was little diminishment in Devon's obviously distraught emotional state. "Forget him," she snapped, her chest heaving nearly to the point of hyperventilation. "The only thing that matters is that he isn't John."

She loosened her grasp, letting go of Duffett and allowing his remains to sink like a stone back into the shallow water and debris before swinging her gaze to Cameron.

"Give me your jumpers," she commanded.

The crewman barely had time to unloop the strap from around his neck before Devon snatched the equipment and raised it to her eyes. She conducted yet another thermal scan, slowly canvassing the thick landscape looking for any signs of life. Unfortunately, with the exception of the lone Grendler who continued its trek in the opposite direction, the search rendered no positive results.

"I'm moving closer to the river. He's got to be here somewhere," she informed them, her voice still a mixture of anger, panic, yet strangely enough, optimism.

Cameron and Alonzo had to struggle to keep pace with Devon as she waded through the still waist-high water toward the edge of the alcove, fighting against the ever-strengthening pull of the current as they neared the threshold.

Devon again brought the jumpers to her eyes and performed another search, meticulously inspecting every inch of the surroundings. She found nothing.

"Danziger!" she repeatedly began to holler at the top of her lungs.

She whipped around to Alonzo and Cameron behind her. "Don't just stand there! Help me look for him!" she exclaimed in a tone that was half-fury and half-desperation.

She roughly tossed the jumpers back to Cameron before turning back to resume her one woman screaming match. The two crewman paused to exchange a sober glance before Cameron decided that it was time to be the voice of reason.

"Devon, he's not here. Not anymore," he interrupted, barely able to get the words out, yet forced to yell in order to be heard over the earsplitting roar of the river. "Look, between the initial fall, the rapids and all of those rocks out there, I just don't see how Danziger coulda made it, especially if he was already injured when he went into the water."

Devon's back remained to them and she tried to act as though Cameron's assessment had failed to have any effect on her. Yet there was no mistaking the sag in her shoulders as she continued to advance, all the while shouting John's name. To Cameron and Alonzo's shock, the leader suddenly surged forward into the deeper, choppier waters at the hem of the river itself. Submerged to just below her shoulders now, Devon was barely able to remain upright due to the tremendous flow of the current and was dangerously close to being washed away. Due to Devon's overwrought frame of mind, Alonzo couldn't help but wonder whether or not she was bothering to take her own personal safety into consideration. Or if she had perhaps reached the point where she no longer cared.

He watched with great unease as Devon took yet another precarious step forward. She continued to call out Danziger's name as she sank up to her chin, coughing as she took in several mouthfuls of water. No longer able to allow this reckless behavior to continue, Alonzo approached Devon from behind, threw his arms around her shoulders and locked her tightly against his chest. Cameron joined in to assist Alonzo as he struggled against both Devon and the river's wrath, dragging her back to waist-high water and out of harm's immediate way.

"Let me go, Alonzo! Don't touch me! I need to find John!" the leader screamed in between heaving breaths as she fought to free herself from Alonzo's grip.

In one swift motion, the pilot flipped her around to face him and began to shake her forcefully by both shoulders. "Stop it! Just stop it! You're gonna get yourself killed and the group won't survive losing both of you, understand?" he yelled. "We need you Devon, now more than ever. You gotta be strong. You gotta be here for the group."

Alonzo paused as the ferocity in his eyes dissolved into despair. "And most importantly, you gotta be here for True," he added in a softened tone.

Hearing the name of John's daughter caused something to snap deep inside of Devon and the fury which she'd exhibited only seconds before could no longer be located among her arsenal of emotions. Instead, her body was filled with a resounding grief so powerful that it strangled everything else within her, taking her very breath away.

Devon's face and posturing crumbled and she began to gasp for air. "Oh, God, please. Not John. Please, not John," she choked out, bringing both hands to cover her mouth.

Alonzo pulled Devon into a supportive embrace with the duel purpose of sharing her sorrow and to prevent her from collapsing into the water. She began to shudder uncontrollably, whimpering the word 'please' over and over again as she sobbed against his chest.

The pilot rubbed his hand up and down her back in a comforting gesture, letting out several shaky breaths of his own. He traded another forlorn look with Cameron whose eyes had also welled up with tears. With heavy hearts, both crewman surrendered to the knowledge that John Danziger was beyond their help. The only thing that they could do for their friend at this point was to assist in picking up the pieces of the broken lives which had been left behind.

As Devon's cries increased in intensity and she started to wail John's name, it became abundantly clear to Alonzo that life on G889 would never be the same again.

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