Free The Flying Eyes by j. Hunter Holly

“Any such study of an Eye is scientific work. And aside from our men here there is no one else. Any possible civilian scientists in the area are hiding. People won’t come out of their houses any more. They caught on quickly that the Eyes only attack groups of people and leave individuals alone, so they refuse to come out where there are others to make a group. No one will volunteer, and this has to be a voluntary effort.”
    â€œIt’s my idea,” Linc said, “and if it’s tried at all, I intend to try it I Collins can come along with me.”
    â€œNo,” Collins was fast with his refusal. “I’m not going out in the open and dare one of those things to climb into a cage. That’s suicide, zombie-style. Count me out.”
    Linc suddenly felt alone. He couldn’t manage it alone—not this. He needed someone, and he had to admit it.
    â€œYou’ve forgotten me, all of a sudden,” Wes stood up. “That’s no way to keep a friend—by overlooking him.”
    Wes was offering to help and to mend their quarrel all in one. Linc was almost too ashamed to answer, but he had to answer, and to express his deep-felt thanks in that answer. He glanced at the floor. “There’s no one I’d rather have with me.”
    â€œThen it’s settled.” Stanley ignored the emotions in the room. “You two have a try at this while Iverson and Collins put their heads together with me and try to come up with something else.”
    Even as the colonel was talking, Linc was aware that he had made an important discovery. He needed Wes and Wes’ friendship. But he wouldn’t have had it if Wes hadn’t been a big enough man to make the first move—time and again to make the first move. He had a lot to learn from the quiet, bookish man. He hoped he was given the time and the chance to learn it.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    The room Linc appropriated for their workshop was in the administration building. It was just adequate to hold the workbench, desk and three chairs that crammed it. They opened the window to clear out the musty odor, and Wes swept the floor.
    â€œWhat’s first?” Wes asked between swishes of the broom.
    Linc sat down in one of the chairs. “Something to contain the Eye, once we have it. A box, a cage? If a cage, then out of what materials?”
    Wes paused in the sweeping. “The obvious answer is wire or chain link, but in order to have a good view of it, one side should be glass.”
    â€œGood. I’ll order the stuff.”
    â€œIf you just poke around in the storeroom, you’ll probably find what we need without waiting for deliveries. I doubt if there’s anyone to deliver, anyway.”
    They went down the hall to the large room at the end. It was crammed with materials, ordered and unused, thrust into storage and forgotten. They searched through it, sneezing in the dust, and it was nightfall by the time they had found everything they required.
    Linc was driven by the need for speed, yet knew that when the cage was completed he would have to face the larger problem of the capture. How could they capture an Eye? The answer depended upon being able to incapacitate it long enough to get it into the cage. Nothing from his experience seemed to meet the requirements.
    As the cage took shape, a tall rectangular frame—top, bottom, and three sides covered with fencing, the other waiting for Wes’ glass—he made a conscious effort to think the problem through. What he needed was a simple idea—something that would work because it was simple, and had few parts to go haywire.
    The Eyes appeared to be like normal human eyes; they wept when stung and bled when wounded. Therefore, they could be blinded. And whether it sounded too simple or not, tear gas might be the instrument for that blinding. Tear gas bombs, smothering it in fumes, should incapacitate an Eye long enough for them to get their hands on