The Breach

by Edward J. McFadden III

  “I think that’s a shred of Sharkey’s uniform pants,” Jefferson said, and sniffed.

  Tanner’s stomach burned. He untangled the brass belt buckle and examined it. There were no engravings or logos other than a stamp that proclaimed the item made in the USA. He held it out in the palm of his hand for Jefferson to inspect.

  “Probably Sharkey’s also,” she said. “It looks standard issue.”

  “No logo or anything?” Tanner said.

  Jefferson pointed at her buckle, which was exactly the same as the one he held—plain shiny brass. She let her head fall in her hands.

  “You OK?” Tanner asked. He slipped the belt buckle into his pocket.

  Her head bucked up and if looks could kill he’d be dead, but after a moment, her face softened and the tense muscles in her neck eased. “Yeah. Sorry. I’m fine. It’s just…”

  “I know. I’ve lost three men, all friends, and we haven’t had a second to mourn them and lay them to rest. Doesn’t feel right.”

  “It isn’t, but what choice do we have? I know Sharkey and Dave wouldn’t want me to stop the pursuit until their killer is dead, but that doesn’t make me feel any better, and it certainly doesn’t make it any easier.”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  Silva came over to them. “So, what now? There’s another one of these ahead?”

  “Yup, and that’s before we get to the tunnels,” Tanner said.

  “All right,” Silva said. “I don’t like it, but we need to portage the boat. We’re going through that gap in the woods.”

  To the left of the bridge, a patch of weeds filled the embankment that led up to the train tracks. It was steep, and there was no way Randy’s twenty-two was getting portaged over. The soldiers got out of the Zodiac and dragged it up and over the embankment, Silva on point.

  “Tanner? You leaving me behind?” Randy said.

  “No way he’s kicking anyone else out of our boat. Stay here and keep an eye out,” Tanner said.

  Randy opened his mouth to say something, then decided not to. Randy’s face said all it needed to. He wasn’t happy, and it bothered Tanner that his friend didn’t trust him.

  A look passed between Ravac and Jefferson and he lowered his head.

  “We’ll be right back,” Tanner said. He turned his back on Randy and started climbing, and he felt his partner’s stare boring into his back long after he’d passed over the trestle and was back on the river.

  The blue blood slick was twice as large and thick as before.

  “Looks like it had a problem getting under that bridge,” Silva said. “How far up is the next portage?”

  “Right before Montauk Highway, then we’ll hit the tunnel under Sunrise,” Tanner said.

  “You figure that’s where we’ll get it?”

  “Yeah. It’s smarter than you think and it knows it’s being chased. I’m sure of that. It’s looking for a place to lie low, and the tunnel would be perfect. It’s big, deep, and with the road closed, they’ll be no noise. We’ll get it under there and bring everything down on it.”

  “Destroy the road?”

  “Fuck the road,” Tanner said

  The sound of paddles dipping into the river and the drip of water as they retracted was barely audible beneath the wind, which had picked up. The pitch pines swayed in the breeze, their evergreen needles making a faint tapping sound as they collided. They came around a wide bend and the river narrowed. Water reeds loomed like walls on both sides.

  “Oh, boy,” Silva said. “Right side dig ‘em in. Left side rest.”

  The Zodiac spun to port, and Tanner saw what Silva was going after. Something floated in the water at the stream’s edge tangled in the water reeds. The boat inched closer, and the water changed color from a greasy blue to a deep red. The blood slick was fresh, and pieces of fat and gristle floated within. A deer leg cut off at the hip lay half in and half out of the river, fresh blood still leaking from the severed limb.

  The Zodiac eased to a stop when it hit the reeds, and Tanner pulled a small mag light from his pocket and risked some light. The limb had been cleanly cut as if by a sharp knife, the muscle, tendons, and gristle neatly shorn.

  “Guess that guy didn’t get the memo,” Jefferson said.

  “Deer around here can be very trusting,” Tanner told her. “They’re protected in here, and people feed them. They’ll take seed corn right from your hand.”

  “Yeah, but it must have been a dumb one,” Silva said. “Everything else feels the danger of this thing a mile away.”

  Without a word, the soldiers began paddling again, and Tanner looked back down river. He could still make out the outline of Randy’s twenty-two. He’d be fuming by now, but this was for the best. There was no way he’d be able to tell Tina and the kids Randy had died. He couldn’t live with that, and he’d known from the moment Silva suggested Randy follow in the twenty-two that he’d have to leave his old friend behind, and in this case, that’s exactly what he wanted.

  The second portage was easier than the first because everyone knew what to do and there was less underbrush surrounding the metal bridge. The structure was unpassable no matter the tide, and when they got over it, the river opened up. A light wind sent waves skidding across the surface. Moonlight lit the water, and as they paddled, the blue blood slick filled the entire river.

  “Looks like it won’t be long,” Tanner said. “Maybe it’s going off to die?”

  “Not as crazy as it sounds,” Jefferson said. “Animals go off alone to die all the time.”

  Ahead, moonlight marked the dark maw of the tunnel leading under Sunrise Highway.

  29

  “The Mines of Moria,” Tanner said.

  Jefferson chuckled. “Say friend and enter.”

  “Mellon,” Tanner said, spreading his hands as Gandalf had done before the entrance to the fictional mines.

  “You two geeking out over there?” Silva said.

  “Private joke,” Tanner said.

  “Not very private. I’ve seen The Lord of the Rings.”

  “Seen? Not read?” Jefferson asked.

  “I’m a child of the movies, what can I say?”

  Tanner harrumphed and Jefferson chortled. Apparently, they made too much noise because Silva placed a finger to his lips. Jefferson flipped him the bird.

  “Full stop,” Silva said. His men reverse paddled, and the boat came to a stop beneath the tunnel opening. Lights from emergency vehicles flashed on the road above as they blocked off Sunrise Highway. The sound of crashing water came from the northern end of the tunnel where Southhaven Lake split through its dam into Carmans River. The top of the arced tunnel stood fifteen feet above the water and was equally deep and stretched into blackness. This far north, the tidal patterns no longer applied and the constant flow of water from Upper Carmans through Southhaven Lake ruled this section of the river, pushing everything south.

  “Get on the laser,” Silva said to the soldier next to him. “Back us out of this opening a little. I don’t want to be under here when this thing comes down.”

  The waterfall at the opposite end of the tunnel was loud and disturbed the water, so Tanner couldn’t tell if air bubbles popped on the surface of the river. He saw no sign of the scorpion other than some blue blood, and he remembered how it had backtracked and tricked him, not once, but twice.

  As if reading his mind, Silva said, “You think it’s in there?”

  “Has to be,” Jefferson said. “No way it could have gone over and around without the guys on the road above seeing it.”

  “Agreed,” said Tanner. “The blood trail leads right in there. Kind of a roadmap, and there’s no way it snuck under us.”

  “I’m going to risk a brief burst of light before I waste my time chumming the wrong area,” Silva said. He made his way to the bow and retrieved a spotlight clipped to the gunnel. He directed it into the tunnel and flicked the light on for a second, then flicked it off. He didn’t need to do it a second time.

>   “Everybody see it?” he asked.

  “Yup,” Tanner said. He’d seen the creature’s spike tail pressed flat against the tunnel roof, the upper portion of its carapace sticking above the water, and its antennas bent backward across its shell.

  “OK. Looks like it’s all the way at the other end. Can it get out down there?” Silva said.

  “Probably, though it would be difficult,” Tanner said. “The tunnel ends about thirty feet from the dam, which is only ten-foot high. There’s a chain-link fence at the top of the dam, but the sea scorpion could go right through that.”

  “We need to draw it toward us,” Silva said. “Get it under the road.” He headed aft and got a plastic jar that looked like a container used for commercial food storage. He grabbed some line and went back to the bow. A smile crept over his face as he screwed the lid off the jar.

  The smell hit Tanner like a hammer. He’d found dead animals in various stages of decomposition. He’d even found a body once, half rotted and stinking, but he’d never experienced anything like this. It was far worse than Randy’s chum. Tanner dry heaved and covered his mouth. Jefferson had her head over the side, puking.

  A couple of the soldiers coughed. Silva laughed and said, “It’s a tuna out of a shark’s stomach. It’s half-digested and months old. Some Navy friends of mine had it on ice for just this type of special occasion.” He tied the line around the decayed fish and tossed it in the water, playing the line out through his fingers as the tuna floated into the tunnel, and then started back his way.

  He reached into the dark water and grabbed the rotten fish, and this time, he threw it thirty feet into the tunnel. “Come on. Come and get it, you piss-crab.”

  The rotten fish floated in the tunnel, its rank odor filling the underpass. The slick created by the chum was moving down river, away from the sea scorpion, but the scent of free food would be impossible for the beast to ignore. Silva fastened the line tethered to the chum fish onto a bow cleat. Then he fell in behind the mounted machine gun and sighted it into the darkness of the tunnel.

  The air reeked of rot, shit, and decaying fish. A low hum echoed through the tunnel as the beast surfaced and a giant claw shot from the water. The river boiled and pitched, and the creature’s antennae pressed against the underside of the tunnel next to its tail. Despite being in a confined space, the sea scorpion’s primeval instincts took control, and it knew only one thing: get food.

  Jefferson was beside Tanner, her MK18 held out before her. Silva was surrounded by his men on the bow where he manned the heavy-duty machine gun. Two of the forward soldiers had grenade launchers, and two others had shoulder-fired missiles.

  “Hold incendiaries until my order,” Silva said. “Ready with the grenades. Target the creature and then bring the roof down on her.”

  The claw heaved forward as a giant black hole ringed with teeth surged from the river and took the tuna, crashing back into the water and sending waves over the gunnel. Silva opened up with the machine gun and its muzzle flash lit his face. He was somewhere else, probably reliving an old war story, and he grinned as the gun barked faster and harder than anything Tanner had ever heard.

  The monster splashed back into the river and rolled against the rounded tunnel wall. Gunfire erupted as the line with the chum at its end went taught, and the Zodiac was dragged into the tunnel’s maw.

  “Give me reverse thrust full. Fast!” Silva yelled. A soldier turned on the motor and it whined as the prop tore at the water, dragging the boat backwards, creating a mountain of whitewater.

  The chum line was as tight as piano wire, and it tinkled and creaked as it was stretched to its limit. It broke with a loud twang, and the Zodiac rocketed back out of the tunnel. Tanner was thrown across the deck and he bounced off the inflated gunnel as the Zodiac almost flipped. A wave of water threatened to capsize them, but the self-bailing Zodiac again proved its worth.

  “Fire grenades and get down,” Silva said. “All hands brace for collision.”

  Two pops reverberated in the tunnel, and a second later, two massive concussions sent a wall of heat and flames shooting down the tunnel toward them. Dust and debris bounced off the walls, and the shockwave river tsunami lifted the Zodiac and pressed it backward. Tanner saw that the entire middle section of the tunnel was gone, and stars blinked down through the hole. Red and blue lights back-lit the smoke and dust, and the sound of crashing water was like thunder. The debris pile of bricks and dirt undulated and moved, then went still. Dust filled the darkness, and spotlights rained down from above. There was cheering and screams of joy. Horns beeped, and guns were fired.

  Tanner and Jefferson hugged, but when Tanner tried to hug Silva, he brushed him off. The agent walked to the bow and peered into the darkness. Bricks still fell and rolled, splashing into the river which was already flowing past the wreckage.

  “Bring me in closer,” Silva instructed. “Get a light on it. I want a corpse.”

  “I’m good,” Jefferson said.

  “Me too,” Tanner said. “I’ll settle for a picture.”

  Silva ignored them, and the Zodiac eased forward into the tunnel mouth. Two handheld spotlights added to the illumination from above, but it was still difficult to see through the smoke and concrete dust. A steady breeze blew down the river, and the hole in the tunnel roof was acting like a chimney. Tanner looked at Jefferson, whose eyes were the size of quarters.

  Every muscle in Tanner’s body ached and moaned, and his bruises and scrapes and cuts all stung. He needed a drink, but for the first time wondered if he’d get the opportunity. He’d been going nonstop for almost twenty-four hours straight, and sometime soon the ghost would give it up, and he’d go down like a drunk after the last shot that breaks the bartender’s back.

  They’d only gone in twenty feet when Silva said, “Full stop.” The beam of his mag light revealed loose stones above. Mortar was missing between many bricks and several looked like they might fall. A little further in, large gaps in the rounded tunnel roof opened to the sky.

  A large section of bricks fell into the water with a loud splash, and everyone’s head snapped around. Tanner peered through the swirling smoke, but he was tired and didn’t trust what he was looking at. The rubble pile was shifting and moving, and bricks tumbled into the water. The river heaved and pushed the Zodiac back several yards as Tanner tried to brace himself, his heart racing and his mouth dry.

  The sea scorpion crawled from the wreckage, its head cracked and crushed, dark blue blood covering its shell. One antenna was gone, and its remaining large claw had been torn off, leg and all. The dark spike tail still curved above its back, poised to strike, though it didn’t have much room to maneuver in the tunnel. The creature lurched forward, away from the wreckage and toward the Zodiac.

  A surge of displaced water swamped the boat and Tanner crouched behind the gunnel. The creature half-swam, half-crawled around the Zodiac, and for an instant, the beast was feet from Tanner. Its one remaining black eye swiveled his way. Blue blood dripped over the boat and the sea scorpion’s tail impaled a soldier as it passed, dragging the screaming man beneath the boiling river.

  “Did that just happen?” Tanner said. He pressed against the inflated pontoon. The flooded Zodiac was already bailing itself out thanks to a gap between the deck and gunnel, and even as he caught his breath, the surrounding water drained away. Silva and his remaining men coughed and cursed while one fished for the radio. It took Tanner a moment to realize why the radio was so important, and he froze, his stomach going cold with dread.

  Randy.

  30

  Tanner joined the search for the radio, but before it could be found, Silva had the electric motor fired up and the Zodiac jumped into the creature’s blood wake. Tanner worried for Randy, but surely his friend had heard the commotion and had figured out what was happening.

  Daybreak came on, and the darkness faded. The creature pushed down the river ahead of them, its tail poised above its back. The animal’s blood slick
appeared thicker than it had been, and that meant it was only a matter of time, but how much time? Tanner felt like the thing had been bleeding for days and he suddenly felt sorry for the beast. What did it know? The scorpion hadn’t come here on its own. The storm dragged it from its home, forcing the animal to deal with one of the most vicious and lethal predators on earth: man.

  They were gaining on the beast and needed to catch the thing before it went under the steel trestle. If it got through there, the chase was over because they wouldn’t be able to portage the boat fast enough. Randy would be forced to confront the creature with the help of one soldier, Ravac, and a heavy-duty machine gun. That wouldn’t be enough. It was also possible the wounded creature would try and hide along the shoreline like it had earlier.

  A cloud passed before the moon and it got darker, the world becoming a gray nothingness beyond a hundred yards. The roiling water atop the scorpion went flat, and then came at them, a giant wave rising like a fist from the river. The scorpion had turned back and was on collision course with the Zodiac. Tanner cursed. What had he done to make everything go so terribly wrong on this never-ending day? He sucked in a breath and waited. There was nothing else he could do.

  The wave before the sea scorpion washed across the river, and the boat rocked and listed. The leviathan surfaced, and Tanner braced himself and fired his MK18 at the beast’s giant mouth as it hovered above him, huge fangs dripping blue blood. The beast’s one black eye focused on him, and in it Tanner saw death. Not the creature’s, but his own. He pulled the trigger until the gun clicked empty, but the bullets had no effect on the beast and it continued to come on like a bull. Tanner let the empty clip drop to the deck and slammed home a full magazine of thirty 45mm armor-piercing shells.