Bodie Meets Godzilla
By Swellison

Bodie reconnoitered his surroundings, carefully performing a 360-degree sweep of the area. Sharp eyes noted and catalogued the tropical vegetation and trees, spotting nothing out of place. The jungle was as quiet as it could be, considering that it was homeground for an endless series of bush wars. The latest battle -- a skirmish really-- had ended two days ago with light casualties. Still, it was reason enough for the major to tighten security, and the cause of Bodie's current umpteenth circle of the base perimeter since midnight. It was not reason enough his sixth sense to kick into high gear, but during the last circuit of the camp, he had increasingly felt the inner warning of danger. Bodie had learned to pay attention to his personal early warning system, and the payoff had been simple: he had survived.

Yet he could find nothing to account for his accentuated feeling of danger now. He finished a second sweep of the area, then continued on his rounds. Twenty paces farther, he stopped abruptly, certain he heard something. He froze and the quiet was broken by a rustling sound, growing louder as it approached Bodie's position. Without thought, he raised his rifle into readiness and stepped off the faintly marked trail into the concealing undergrowth.

Seconds later, he was almost bowled over by a native man crashing madly through the jungle, ignoring the visible path completely. The man seemed quite willing to ignore the mercenary as well until Bodie clamped a firm hand on the African's wrist. Rifle held in his left hand, Bodie sized up his captive quickly. The scantily clad black man was really just a boy, even younger than himself, and definitely terrified.

Realizing that he was caught in Bodie's grip, the boy started jabbering an odd mixture of Swahili and his native tongue, with a few English words thrown in for good measure. Bodie swore he heard the word "gadzooks", but the bulk of the message escaped him. Using Swahili, Bodie asked the boy to slow down his speech, but the young man took no notice of the request. He continued talking at breakneck speed, wildly gesturing towards the direction from which he'd come with his free hand. Even without comprehending a word the boy was saying, Bodie knew that the African was no threat and only wanted to leave the area immediately. Bodie calculated that the boy's path of retreat would not bring him anywhere near the mercenary encampment, so he released his grip on the thin wrist. Without sparing a glance for the soldier, the boy took off into the jungle.

Bodie shook his head, shouldered his rifle and continued his patrol. Ten minutes later, he reached the point of the perimeter farthest from the base camp. He paused, and his survivor's instincts screamed at him. Listening intently, he heard a faint and rhythmic thumping that slowly rose in volume.

Remembering the terrified boy, Bodie thought that the sound could be a herd of panicked elephants on the rampage. However, the pre-dawn air was unshattered by any trumpeting and the African's frantic speech had not included the word "elephant" in any tongue. The noise, unmistakably louder, had a distinct pattern, like giant footsteps...

Snorting in disgust over that ridiculous notion, Bodie froze as a massive form suddenly blocked the feeble light of the jungle sunrise. He braced his feet and snapped his rifle into firing position, having to tilt the gun higher and higher to finally sight between a pair of fiery red-orange eyes. Gadzooks, he thought crazily, as part of his brain calculated that the creature must stand sixty feet high if an inch, while another part rejected the image of the dinosaur-like monster that towered before him, coming ten feet nearer with every step. Discovering almost too late that he was directly in the monster's path, Bodie's instincts took over as one gigantic blackish-purple foot loomed over him. When the enormous, descending foot almost touched his rifle, Bodie dropped to the ground, rolling desperately to get out from under the creature.

His hands dropped the rifle in his fast scuttle for safety. Urgently, the mercenary groped the ground for the fallen weapon. Searching fingers encountered a smooth, fur-like surface, not the vine-strewn loose dirt of the ground. Startled, Bodie blinked and saw a single, red-orange eye in the dark. Supposed to be two, he thought fuzzily, then his questing hands knocked against an object. The thin rectangular case was no part of a rifle.... He finally paid attention to his senses, which told him he was in an enclosed space. What happened to the jungle...? And the monster had vanished as well.

At last recognizing exactly where he was, Bodie reached for the lamp on the end table and flicked it on. He was in his own parlor. The single glaring reddish eye was the power indicator on his videocassette recorder, which had still been playing when he dozed off. The one-word title of the tape box in his hand blazed redly: GODZILLA. Two more tapes were scattered on the floor, near the sofa he'd rolled off: THE RETURN OF GODZILLA and DESTROY ALL MONSTERS.

The day's events rushed back. Cowley had dispatched Bodie and Doyle down to the docks to find a man wanted and escort him to CI5 headquarters. Like the Canadian Mounties, they had found their man, but the berk had leaped into the river to escape them, and Bodie, being closest, had leaped into the water right after him. Bodie had easily caught and subdued his waterlogged quarry, and had also caught the chills. Not feeling up to company, he had stopped at the video store on the way home and rented three movies, planning on a nice quiet evening in front of the telly. Apparently, he had dozed off.

Lucky Ray's not here, Bodie thought as he crossed the room to turn off the VCR. Probably take to callin' me 'Bambi' if he found out about my dream. So he won't.

No, as far as Doyle was concerned, Bodie had spent a quiet night at home, laughing himself silly at the obviously faked monsters of his Godzilla-fest. That settled, Bodie toddled off to bed.

THE END