The Warren – under Warren – has eyes…
On October 25th, the intrepid NJ Local News “Action Team” was again in Warren, NJ with their state-of-the-art satellite truck and a breathy, bouffant-haired reporter at the ready. Rita Scavici had her microphone and camera crew primed for a scoop. Rita was smelling a Pulitzer Prize with her name on it, knocking back Starbucks double-shot Columbian blends like they were Poland Spring water. She checked her appearance once again in a dirty truck mirror and pursed her puffy, Botox-injected lips in approval. The reporter was a vision out of a Bon Jovi music video shot down the Jersey shore a decade ago. A real Italian princess. And the make-up? Pancaked and flamboyant. Boardwalk sheik – right down to the fake eyelashes.
An hour ago – 9:45AM – on this perfectly lovely 57F degree day, a sinkhole on Mount Horeb Road next to the WeeTots Childcare Center opened up. The collapsed pavement and earth slide gave way to garbage-truck-sized chasm, tearing apart the old cast-iron gas and water lines underground that were scheduled to be replaced but never upgraded due to budget cuts and personnel shortages.
The interruption of traffic on Mount Horeb Road caused particular consternation at WeeTots childcare about 25 feet away from the roadway sinkhole collapse. Two toddlers were wailing in pain – and the responding Warren EMS Crew couldn’t maneuver through the choked-up streets fast enough to rescue them. The kids had apparently been playing in the WeeTots basement activity center when they slipped in some black, viscous fluid that was leaching its way through a crumbling cinderblock wall. A few hours later they complained of pain. By the time the Warren EMS crew arrived – two Techs and a driver – the kids were screaming in agony so bad that the seasoned EMTs were suspecting “broken limbs” as they raced them to Morristown Medical Center Emergency Room.
The NJ News reporter dramatically described the gaped-open roadway as a “cavernous” sinkhole – but barely mentioned the two kids being taken away by EMS from WeeTots childcare center next door. If the ambulance wasn’t in her camera angle, she wouldn’t have mentioned it at all. The reporter did, however, inform her listeners that some months before there was a large gas explosion about fifty feet up the block at a derelict house officially designated a “murder crime scene”. This was too juicy a tidbit to leave out of any story. Laying on some thick theatrical flair and clutching her microphone like Christ’s cross of redemption, she broadcast that “the gruesome butcher site” – 7332 Mount Horeb Road – was called by local Warren residents, “the Shinski death house”. All this, she quipped, was a mere hop, skip and jump from WeeTots child Care…as if it had anything newsworthy to do with a sinkhole.
Rita Scavici allowed this salacious “murder house” morsel of reportage to hover in the air like a ripe fart and once again turned her attention to the roadway collapse, tracing with piteous detail the “unprecedented” dimensions and depth of the trench like it was ground zero of a nuclear blast.
What the NJ News reporter didn’t know was that the water-soaked and crumbling cinderblock wall the children were playing next to was oozing black slime and abutted the Mount Horeb Road sinkhole. Newshound Scavici was busy commenting on the “extremely foul and rancid odor” that permeated the area of the ground collapse and didn’t bother mentioning any connection to the WeeTots kids.
Soon the Reporter wrestled some pithy commentary from Braydon Carville, Public Service Gas & Electric Company site manager:
“……The explosion a couple a’ months ago at 7332 Mount Horeb apparently weakened the underground – the shock waves obviously shattered old cast-iron water and gas pipes, causing a sinkhole to form. But there’s also some kinda’ big void down there, too, that’s stinkin’ somethin’ awful…we’re investigating it…it smells like a bad septic site…probably a leaking raw sewage pipe… “
So, this was the picture. While NJ News was myopically focused on an odious sinkhole, the real drama was unfolding in an EMS vehicle racing up US Route 287 North to Morristown Medical Center Emergency Room.
Two kids – Andrea Jameson and Tracy Marcam – were strapped on gurneys and writhing in pain. EMS Techs tried to muffle their screams and calm them down – but the children were soon slipping into seizures. Big, black patches emerged as if by magic on their arms and necks – and a smell was emanating from their little bodies, choking the close confines of the emergency vehicle with a pungent, moldy and coppery odor. Their labored breathing was redolent with a fragrance of sour, moist blood.
Josh Taver, the senior EMS Tech on duty yelled up to the driver. He was an ex-Marine Field Medic – Desert Storm Campaign – and was starting to get a bad feeling in his gut…he’d smelled these smells before. In Iraq.
“Better get on the radio to Morristown ER – this could be some kind of HazMat event…”
William Heinlein, now Executive Director of Worldwide Security Operations for NordPharma in Princeton sat watching the watching NJ News coverage of the Warren, NJ sinkhole with his jaw clenched tight.
He was just rubbing his eyes behind his oversized desk when his phone burbled. It was a text from Sgt. Jimmy Calder, one of his old mates at Warren police Department.
“Yo! Heinie! Your Shinski murder house on Mount Horeb Road strikes again. Big sinkhole and sick kids at WeeTots School….some kinda’ black stinky shit in the cellar…NJ News is up all our asses…. the place is cursed”.
Having spent over twelve years at Warren, PD – and despite his having moved into Swede’s Lamberville Victorian lock, stock and barrel – he still felt affection for the town. But something in his cop “gut” told him to scratch around a bit. He called his old Captain, Gus Trevor – somebody he knew would give him the inside skinny.
Gina, the Warren PD desk Officer, put him right through – still addressing him as “Detective”. Trevor picked up – gruff and impolite as usual.
“And what the Hell do you want? You want your job back?” He blustered. “Life in the fast lane not entertaining enough for ya, eh? Sick of yer Lambertville high-brow lifestyle already? I got traffic nightmares on Mount Horeb Road and now assholes from Morristown Memorial Emergency Outreach ordering – that’s right, ordering – me to quarantine the WeeTots daycare Center…..”
“What’s going on?” Heinlein kept his voice steady. He was already surmising that the C4 they’d detonated in Shinski’s basement during their Yakwahe hunt had something – somehow – to do with this…shitshow.
“Awww, I don’t know…” Trevor moaned. “Let me go. I got Hospital pencil-neck geeks demanding that we crime-scene-yellow-tape the whole Goddamn block for Christ sakes…”
Heinlein hung up and immediately called Swede at NordPharma in Zurich after logging into a special encrypted program. He used his “urgent” code” and waited for the secure signal to lock in. He was feeling a “Security Crisis” coming on. Like any cop – he was connecting the dots. The surveillance feed from the “Squibs” they’d unleashed down the hole the Yakwahe emerged from in Shinski’s basement held the key. It was a long tunnel – but not too far down were eyes…red, blistering hot eyes burning in the blackness…Yakwahe eyes.
There were more of them down there. The Yakwahe had reproduced. Did one of them get fatally injured in the explosion… crawl away underground as far as it could – and die near the WeeTots Daycare center basement? Was its poisonous carcass decomposing next to an old, crumbling foundation wall? Leaching its venomous filth into the building and infecting kids with God only knows what?
Heinlein already knew that Swede’s preliminary analysis of their “research specimen” in Serbia was terrifying. The toxicity of the thing was off the charts. It was a biological endgame for humanity. An extinction-level event threat just waiting to overwhelm the human genome.
Finally, she picked up. Swede’s voice was as sweet as ever – but concerned. The encrypted line and urgent code meant serious business.
“You ok?” She asked.
“We have a problem…” Heinlein said.
At Morristown Memorial Medical Center Emergency Intake Unit, it was “all hands-on deck”. The two little girls on gurneys that Warren EMS had just brought in were blackening darker by the minute. They were now hemorrhaging blood from their eyes, ears and mouth and gurgling incomprehensible wet sounds from their windpipes. Their lungs were almost completely filled with water – and a black, oozing and evil-smelling discharge was dripping from their loins smearing the hospital floors and equipment like pitch tar.
The frequency and intensity of their seizures lessened – but everybody in the ER Special Unit knew what that meant. They were dying. Josh Taver, the Warren EMS Tech that drove them in from Warren collapsed on the floor, bleeding out of his mouth. The other EMS Tech passed out in the hallway, blood leaking from his ears.
Andrea Jameson’s mother had arrived and was screaming uncontrollably, throwing herself against the doctors wailing “My baby! My Baby!” She grabbed for the child’s now thoroughly blackened hand and started to rub it and pull the child’s limb towards her.
Before the Emergency Doctors could pry her away from the child, they gasped in horror at what happened next. It took the doctors a few seconds to fully process what they were seeing….
Mrs. Jameson was holding what looked like a black mitten. Her daughter’s hand had completely degloved itself from its internal bones and was exuding disintegrating fat and connective tissues as her mother squeezed it into her hysterical, vice-like grip. Like a winepress. The metacarpal skeleton bones of little Andrea’s hand hung limply off the gurney like some macabre Halloween decoration somebody bought at Walmart. Mrs. Jameson screamed even louder and collapsed into the arms of the hospital staff that were now surrounding her – dropping the sock-puppet of black flesh that she just pulled off her child. The lump of slimy detritus that once was a child’s hand splattered against the floor and promptly reduced itself into an oily slick of degraded human fats and epidermal cells. The phenomenon was called de-congealing…. flesh breaking itself down into ruptured cells and diseased essence.
The ER physicians could only stare at both girls – Andrea Jameson and Tracy Marcam – as they each were mysteriously rendered into a gelatinous mound of putrescence that seeped its way down the sides of their gurneys and dripped on to a hospital floor already greasy from human cellular waste. The toddlers literally melted away under the helpless gaze of some of the best doctors on the East Coast of America.
Within a half-hour, Morristown Emergency Services was in a complete lockdown protocol. All employees and patients were accounted for and confined. The US Center for Disease Control was flash-notified and helicopter BIO-HAZMAT LEVEL IV PRIORITY military units from McGuire AFB and Picatinny Arsenal were mobilizing. Washington DC alerts deluged Police Departments throughout New Jersey and New York. Pennsylvania would soon follow.
The exasperated words of the Morristown Emergency Room Director summed it up best: “The shit has just hit the fan…”
Copyright, 2025 Jon Croft and his Assignees
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