floor, trying to back away but the rocking of the ship and the wet floor made it nearly impossible to barely stay just out of reach.
The shotgun slid away, but came back moments later when the ship shifted in the water again. Matt snatched it up, fumbled with it for a second, pumped a fresh round into the chamber and did his best to steady it in the stowaway's face.
He pulled the trigger and the shotgun bucked in his grip as the shell exploded, blowing the stowaway's head clean off. It stopped flailing about under its own will and now the shark would decide in which direction the stowaway’s body moved as it continued to chomp and swing the limp cadaver from left to right.
Matt had managed to eliminate one problem, but a thousand-pound, pain in the ass shark still blocked his exit.
The giant ship listed again, hit hard by a mountain of a wave, and Matt was thrown to the other side of the room.
The wave brought another flood of water through the door with enough force to free the shark and shove it back into the room. Its heavy body crashed into the radar console, ripping it from its bolts in the floor, leaving a large piece of metal that opened a deep gash on the belly of the shark. Blood gushed from the wound and the giant fish began to thrash even more in a fit of rage and pain.
The stowaway's headless body was a flopping rag doll still caught in the grip of the shark's mouth as it continued to chomp away, which was all the massive sea creature knew how to do. Well, that and swim, but swimming wasn't an option at the moment.
Matt was a little more than disturbed at the shark's devotion to surviving out of water for so long. He knelt in the far corner of the room hiding from the shark, as if the thing had the ability to lunge at him at any moment. Then, Matt remembered that he had the upper hand… Matt was land walker. Hell yeah! Damned shark!
He grabbed up the shotgun from the watery floor and pumped it once, sending a spray of sea water into the air as a new shell slid into the chamber, and aimed at the giant fish blocking his exit.
“You’re in my way, you fucking sushi bastard!” he yelled.
The ship fell, hard, back into the water after the last wave hit.
Matt lost his balance but squeezed the trigger as he went airborne and the shotgun bucked.
Then, things got dizzy for just a few seconds.
Matt was face-down in the water that had been made bloody by the gash in the shark's belly. He could taste the blood in his mouth as it mingled with the salty water. He pulled his face up, coughed and spit.
Something was different. He could feel the ocean spray on his legs and realized that the ship had tipped enough to cause him to slide halfway out the door onto the narrow starboard deck. He didn't see the shotgun anywhere and at that moment he didn't give a shit. He was just glad to be out of that damned room. Away from that damned shark.
That damned shark? It wasn't in the room anymore. Nor was the twice-dead stowaway.
Matt flipped over onto his back and looked behind him to see that the heavy cable railing had been ripped away. On the jagged remnants of a metal post was a quivering, bloody chunk of the shark and from the way it was hanging, it looked like the big fish had been washed overboard when the ship tipped back this way.
That's when Matt was brought back to the moment as, just beyond the chunk of shark meat, he watched a massive wall of the blackest water he had ever seen closing in fast.
But that wasn't the only thing closing in. On both sides of him, coming even faster, were three stowaways; two from his left and one on his right.
“Fuck!” Matt tried to scramble back into the room but his left leg protested and Matt screamed in agony. He looked down to see his ankle lying at an unnatural angle. In all the excitement he hadn't even noticed it.
He gave himself up to his fate just as the stowaways reached him and began grabbing for him, but the wetness of his skin caused them to claw and gouge his arms and chest. He screamed as he fought hard, punching one and kicking at another. He wasn't sure which was worse, the painful digging and scratching on his flesh or the horrific odor of the dead stowaways.
Matt quickly grabbed one by the throat and squeezed with all his strength, feeling his fingers easily squish through the decayed flesh and tendons. With the flick of his wrist, he felt its fragile neck bones, probably dead for months, snap. The head fell and rolled away and its body went limp. In spite of this tiny victory, Matt knew that wouldn't be enough to stop the mayhem, but there was one thing that would.
Matt took a deep breath and did his best to endure the pain of the attacking stowaways as he reached out and grabbed the doorjamb with both hands, screaming in his head and taking the agony for as long as he could. He knew it wouldn't last much longer.
The mighty wall of black water hit this side of the ship with more force than the last and Matt was weightless as the entire side of the ship was practically submerged. Matt's grip threatened to let go but he held firm.
The stowaways weren't as lucky. They washed over the side like garbage and would feed the fish now.
Matt hit the floor hard on his back and felt the pain shoot through him when his ankle made contact. He let out his breath and a loud scream and lost his grip on the doorjamb, sliding along the wall away from the door with the ebb of the water, and went over the side of the ship.
His hand instinctively shot out for anything to grab and found the jagged post. For a moment, Matt was afraid of squeezing too tight and snapping it like did the stowaway's neck, but he knew it would happen with metal. The problem now was that the blood and ooze from the shark meat impaled on the post had coated its surface and made it difficult to keep his grip.
Matt looked down and watched the ocean quickly fall far beneath him as the ship shifted on the crest of the immense wave and listed to the port side on its way down, lifting him and his half of the massive vessel out of the sea.
His heart stopped for a moment when he realized how minute he was in the overall scheme of things. He figured there was no better time than the present to get philosophical.
Without warning, his hand slipped and he began sliding down the side of the ship's hull.
Then, he felt a tight pressure on his wrist.
It was his bunk mate, Troy.
“I gotcha!” He could barely hear Troy's voice, but he knew what the big country boy had said. Matt tried to reach up with his other hand. “Relax! Don't struggle or I'll lose my grip! Tony's comin’ with a rope!” The sea spray was like a heavy rain and Matt was impressed with the grip that Troy had on him, but, of course, that's what made Troy such a good deckhand.
Matt just hung there, watching the tropical storm play out over the black water, kicking up spray and forming white caps here and there. And there was nothing but darkness all around. The lightening tried to brighten the black clouds in the sky, but failed miserably every time. Matt quickly imagined several giant tentacles shooting out of the dark seas to take him under and how much it would suck to be floating out there with God only knows what lurking beneath him.
The ship reached the bottom of the wave and the sea rose quickly again and the next wave seemed otherworldly… much bigger than the last. Matt's stomach turned at the sight. That little voice in his head told him this was it.
Troy's grip gave away and Matt wasn't sure if his friend let go to save himself from the monster wave approaching or that his own skin was so slick with blood and water that he slipped from Troy’s hand.
In a split-second, Matt was under water and the vortex created by the giant ship would have immediately sealed his fate, but somehow the force of the wave washed Matt far enough away that when he came to the surface; he could barely see the ship as it rolled over the crest of the wave like a tiny leaf in a river of white water.
Before he knew it, he was far above the ship, looking down on it from the top of the wave. All of his scratches and cuts from the stowaways didn't get along very well with the salty sea water, they burned like hell. And his ankle screamed at him as he kicked wildly, trying to stay afloat.
<
br /> Then, he watched the next wave take the ship below the surface, as if a giant hand rose from the depths and yanked it down to the ocean floor.
Matt rode the next wave, his mind racing, not knowing what to do next. He was alone, adrift. Scared.
Then, something hit him and the sky disappeared without warning and his lungs filled with water as he tried to scream from the immense pressure on his chest.
Too much pain! His lungs ached and his eyes bulged as he gasped for the air that he knew he would never breathe again. His ribs cracked and he could feel them puncture his lungs and it all happened too damned slow as he felt himself going deeper and deeper below the surface. He didn't know which way was up anymore and it didn't matter.
In less than a minute – the longest last minute of his life - it was all over and Matt would join Troy, the stowaways and the rest of the crew at the bottom of the gulf.
Damned shark.
thirsty bitch
Larry walked through the door and the first thing he noticed was that the water bowl was empty again. The dank smell of the old basement and the pungent odor of feces and urine filled his nose as he stood at the top of the stairs and stared down at the bowl ten feet below.
“Thirsty bitch,” he muttered.
Flashlight in hand, Larry casually strode down the steps into the dark basement, where the floor was like a block of ice to his bare feet. He knelt down to pick up the
Brain Matter Page 7
