Fartsunami

by M. D. Payne

  We all growled, and the sharks shuddered.

  “Now, follow the brains!” Clive said, and we held up our vegetable brains.

  Howling and screeching came from the whale carcass.

  “There it is!” yelled Gordon.

  In the moonlight, we could see the sea skin slink down to the water’s edge.

  “Gooooooo!” I yelled.

  We kicked our sharks and wiggled our vegetable brains.

  The last thing I heard as we crashed under the waves was “Good luck!” from Clive.

  Ripped from the Deep!

  Our four zombie sharks swam deeper. The swamp creature kept pace alongside us. At first, I couldn’t see anything through the murky water. Between the waves and trying to steer the zombie sharks in the open ocean, I was worried we had lost the skin.

  I opened up my helmet communicator.

  “Testing, testing, one, two, three,” I said. “Are you getting this?”

  “Copy,” said Ben.

  “Copy,” said Gordon.

  “Copy that,” said Shane.

  BLLLUUUURRRFFT!

  “What was that?” Gordon asked.

  “Sorry,” said the swamp creature. “I held in a lot of swamp gas up on the beach.” FFFFLLLLAAAARRRT!

  “Fine,” I said. “We can’t breathe it in down here, anyway.”

  We had finally got out of the murky water created by the waves, and could see a coral reef below us.

  “Get your sharks to move their headlamps around,” I said. “We have to find this thing!”

  Fish shot out of the way of the zombie sharks as we skimmed the top of the coral reef. Crabs scuttled for shelter.

  “This is beautiful,” said Ben. “So many colors.”

  “Oh, suuuuuuuuuuure,” said the swamp creature. “Everybody loves a coral reef. But a swamp…that’s a beautiful thing.”

  We circled around the area where we though the skin had gone, and then circled around it again.

  “I think we’ve lost it,” said Shane.

  “Wait!” said Gordon. “Follow me! I see something shimmering ahead.”

  Gordon kicked his zombie shark and shot forward. We followed.

  “He’s right,” said Shane. “I can see it up there!”

  “Whoa!” yelled Gordon and stopped his shark.

  “What’s going on?” I asked as we reached Gordon.

  “Oh…,” said Ben, pointing down.

  Gordon had stopped at the edge of a huge drop. Behind us was the colorful, lively reef. Below us were dark, cloudy waters. We could see the skin slowly slink deeper and deeper until it was lost in the dark.

  “I wonder how far down it goes?” Ben asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I replied, “but we have to go after it.”

  “All right, boss,” said Shane.

  “I dunno, guys,” said Ben. “This is pretty creepy.”

  A high-pitched screech floated up from the deep.

  “Let’s go,” said the swamp creature.

  We headed down into the deep.

  “I can barely see in front of me,” Gordon said, “it’s so murky.”

  “And fr-fr-freezing,” stuttered Ben.

  The sharks plodded ahead, and soon their headlamps gleamed off the skin.

  “It’s right in front of us,” Gordon said.

  “We’ve reached the bottom of this trench,” I said, and shined my light along the lifeless sea floor. “Look.”

  “Oh, man,” said Ben. “Take a look at this.”

  He shined his light on something white lying on the floor.

  “Is that a skeleton?” I asked

  “Yep,” said Shane. “A human skeleton.”

  “Oh, man,” I said. “This isn’t good.”

  “Um, guys,” said Gordon, “check this out.”

  He had stopped his zombie shark. The shark’s headlamp shined on a wicked looking monster that bloomed out of a huge fleshy sea pod like a sick flower. Its face looked like an eel’s, razor-sharp teeth lined its mouth, and its hands were massive crab claws. Huge bloody gills breathed in and out. Below the scaly, slimy neck, the creature’s organs hung out freely, bobbing around in the shifting waters.

  “What the heck?!” Ben said.

  “Membranium!” said the swamp creature.

  “What?” said Gordon.

  “Just watch the skin,” said the swamp creature.

  The skin floated over to the disgusting creature, and covered it from head to toe. As it did, the skin went from translucent to the same green, scaly, slimy color of the rest of the creature.

  “I’ve heard about these things,” said the swamp creature, sounding a little scared now, “but I never knew they ate lebensplasm.”

  The skin sealed up with a nice PLOP, and the creature opened its eyes.

  “Move your lights away,” I hissed.

  Everyone did as they were told, and swung their sharks around…

  …to reveal an entire wall of membranium! Some had skin, and some did not. Their disgusting bodies swayed in the soft current.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” said the swamp creature, “and we can if we just move fast enough.”

  “All right,” I said. “Everybody—”

  “Arrgghh! It’s got me,” yelled the swamp creature.

  He thrashed in the water, screamed…and farted.

  FRRRRRRRTTTTT!

  He stopped thrashing.

  “Gil?” I said, “Are you okay?”

  “I think so,” he said. “Look…”

  Before the swamp creature could say anything else, my zombie shark bucked from under me. It must have caught a smell of the organs that were floating out in the water, because it headed for the nearest skinless membranium and…

  CHOMP!!!

  The entire wall erupted in screams. The skinless membranium floated in place, but the ones with skins pulled themselves slowly out of their sea pods, and slinked slowly toward us.

  “They can only go so far,” said the swamp creature. “They’re attached by umbilical cords!”

  My shark had been bitten by several membranium and was being munched on the wall. I grabbed on to the tail of Ben’s zombie shark.

  “Swim up, up, uuuuup!” I yelled.

  The swamp creature floated up, and Ben, Shane, and Gordon jiggled their vegetable brains in front of their sharks.

  But it was too late.

  “Skins!” Gordon yelled.

  “They’re after the zombie sharks!” I said.

  Within seconds, three skins had sealed themselves around our zombie sharks. The sharks struggled in the water. The membranium kept coming out of the wall, snarling and snapping, their razor teeth lashing in the water. Their bodies pulsated with anger in the deep water as they released more and more of their umbilical cords.

  “We’ve got to get out of here!” I yelled. “Swim up as fast as you can—they’re going to turn the zombie sharks on us!”

  We swam as hard as we could, the zombie sharks struggling below us, lashing and snapping at the skin that was closing in on them.

  “Grrrrr…” They growled and fought. We were halfway up the trench, gaining speed. Then, from the deep—

  BLLLLUUUURRRFFFTTTT!

  BRRRRRPPPFFFFFT!

  SPPPLLUUUUUFFFFFTTTT!

  “The sharks just farted,” said Shane. “They’re turning our way.”

  We neared the top of the trench, and the sharks were already halfway up. The swamp creature was nowhere to be seen.

  “Gil!” I yelled. “We could really use your help!!!”

  A huge boulder on the edge of the trench started to shimmy and shake.

  “Hurrrrryyyyy,” said the swamp creature.

  “He’s the one pushing the boulder!” yelled Ben.

  We shot up past the boulder, and as soon as we leveled off to head for the coral, it tipped over the edge. There were scrapes and crunches as it headed down the side of the trench.

  “Hurry,” said the swamp creature. “It will just stu
n them momentarily. You’ve got to get to the shore. Pull off your gear, you’ll float up faster!”

  Before the swamp creature could even finish his statement, we each took huge breaths, pulled off our scuba gear, and raced to the surface of the water.

  When we burst through the waves, it looked like the beach was at least a hundred yards away. We swam as fast as we could.

  “I…,” gasped Ben, “I…can’t do it…”

  “Yeah,” I gasped, “I think I’m done for.”

  The swamp creature popped up out of the water and grabbed Ben. Shane and Gordon each grabbed one of my arms.

  “Let’s goooooo!” screamed Gordon.

  We swam like crazy, but there was a splash just behind us. The zombie sharks jumped out of the water, belly flopped, and headed for us.

  “We’re fish food!” yelled Ben.

  “Not today!”

  “Clive?” I asked.

  Sure enough, Clive was using the surfboard lodged in his body to paddle out past us and toward the sharks.

  “Hey, you overgrown guppies!” yelled Clive. “Stop this right now, or Daddy’s gonna poke your eyes out!”

  “Wait,” I yelled. “Clive, they’re possessed!”

  But it was too late.

  A shark picked Clive up by his surfboard and whipped his jaw back and forth. Clive flew right off and disappeared under the water. The sharks followed.

  “No!!!!” I yelled.

  I tried to swim back, but the swamp creature stopped me.

  “Are you crazy?” he asked “Do you want to die, too?”

  I stopped fighting, and we swam the last ten yards or so to the shore. We flopped up on the beach, breathing hard.

  Two waves later, Clive’s surfboard washed up next to us.

  I passed out.

  With a Little Help from an Enemy

  I awoke to find myself lying on the cold, wet beach. Under the light of the moon, Director Z leaned over me. Behind him were Shane, Ben, Gordon, and the swamp creature. I looked up and down the beach, but it was just the four of them.

  “Clive?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry Chris, but we don’t think he made it,” Director Z said.

  “Man, that stinks,” I said.

  “He totally saved us,” said Shane. “He was a good zombie.”

  “How long was I out?” I asked, standing up.

  “Just long enough for Director Z to get down here,” Ben said.

  “Gil tells me that he knows what’s lurking down there,” said Director Z.

  “Well,” said the swamp creature. “I heard rumors before. Rumors about the membranium. Disgusting, grotesque creatures, bound to the seafloor by their own flesh and unable to ever free themselves. To feed, they peel off their own skin, which is then sent to hunt down prey. Once it finds its meal, the skin wraps around the poor soul and slowly drains the life out it. I never knew it had a taste for lebensplasm. And I certainly never heard of the skin controlling its victims.”

  “So, basically, we now have our answer,” said Director Z. “The reason that the residents have been so ill—and so possessed—is because of the hive of membranium that live just off the shore.”

  “Have you ever heard of these things?” Ben asked Director Z. “Do you know how to defeat them?”

  “There is absolutely no research on membranium,” said Director Z. “So, figuring out how to defeat them is not going to be easy.”

  A great gurgling interrupted our conversation. We looked to see the ocean frothing and bubbling at about the spot where the trench was. The water rippled and slowly headed toward the shore.

  “Oh no,” said the Director.

  “The membranium!” said the swamp creature.

  “They must be really angry,” said Gordon.

  The swamp creature farted again.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “When I get frightened, I fart.”

  “Is there ever an occasion where you don’t break wind?” asked Director Z, waving his hand in front of his nose. “Wait…why don’t I smell anything?”

  “Well,” said the swamp creature, “I’m still locked into this skin. It’s not doing anything to me. But, I’m stuck.”

  “Wait,” I said, “it didn’t just fall off when you farted in the ocean?”

  “No, in fact it gave me the strength I needed to push that boulder onto the sharks.”

  “But you’re not possessed?” asked Shane.

  “Nope,” said the swamp creature. “Feel great.”

  The pack of membranium skin was about fifty yards from the shore.

  “Wait,” Shane said. “Wait a minute. I think I’ve got a big idea here. I think farting is the answer.”

  “What do you mean!?” I said. “Shane, be quick and be clear. We don’t have much time!”

  “When did the zombie sharks fall under the control of the skin?” Shane asked, and then answered his own question, “Right after they farted. And when did the rogue zombie go rogue? Right after it farted.”

  “Okay, go on…” Gordon said. He looked nervously at the membranium skin, which was riding a wave on its way up to the shore.

  Shane took in a big breath, and said, “I think that to control their victims, the membranium squeeze them so hard that they fart. That’s how the skin knows it’s got you! But when the victim farts before the membranium really has a grip on them, then it just stops and sits there.”

  “That’s wonderful for someone like Gil,” said Director Z, “but what about the residents who are already affected?”

  The first of the skin creatures washed up on the shore, and started creeping up the beach.

  “Wait! Remember when the rogue zombie was force-fed herbs?” I asked.

  “Yes,” everyone said in unison.

  “The membranium lost control for just a little bit,” I said. “The skin let loose for ten or fifteen seconds. If we could get the monsters to fart just then, they should be okay.”

  “All right,” said Director Z, and then he called up the beach, “all Nurses, this is an ALARM! Please secure the residents in their rooms and await further instructions in the infirmary. Gil, I’ll need your help with the victims—you’ll make the perfect flatulence coach.”

  “How can we help? By stopping the line of membranium skin heading into the resort?” I asked.

  “No,” said Director Z. “I’d rather you remain worthless.”

  “Worthless!?” yelled Gordon. “We almost lost our skin down there.”

  “No, you misunderstand,” said Director Z. “So far the membranium haven’t paid you much notice—perhaps they’ve developed a taste for the residents. But now that you’ve snooped around their lair, they might have started noticing you.”

  “Got it,” said Shane. “Just tell us what to do.”

  “I need you to figure out how we can defeat these nasty creatures. Getting the residents to fart, if we can even keep them conscious long enough to, is going to be tough. We need a real solution.”

  “Got it!” I said.

  “For now,” said Director Z, watching the last of the membranium head through the jungle, “I’ll get Griselda to make as much herbal remedy as possible, and add a gas-producing ingredient. We’ll have to hope that we can convince the residents to fart in the ten to fifteen seconds we have when they’re released from the membranium’s grip.”

  Director Z ran up the beach, as the sound of screams rose into the air once again.

  “GET THEM IN THEIR ROOOOOOMMMS!” Director Z yelled up to the resort.

  I shook my head, trying to stay conscious.

  “I’m so overwhelmed,” I said.

  “We can think this through,” said Ben.

  Another scream tore through our ears. It started healthy and young, and ended old and garbled.

  “Maybe we should let all of the membranium skins attach to monsters,” said Gordon, “and then, while they’re busy, lead the Kraken down there and POW!”

  “It’s a good idea,” I said, “but did you see
how many membranium there were down there? We’d need three or four times more monsters.”

  “Plus,” added Shane, “what if they drained the monsters dry before the Kraken was able to finish the job? I guess we can hope that there are enough herbs, and the monsters fart so they’re not harmed. But that’s asking a lot of the monsters.”

  “No matter what,” I said, “we need to make sure to tell all of the monsters to fart as much as they can if they’re attacked. Then we won’t even need herbs.”

  From the resort, we could hear the Nurses yell, “FAAAART! FAAAAART!”

  “Looks like they already know,” said Shane.

  “But back to the Kraken,” said Gordon. “What if he could take care of business even with the membranium’s skin on?”

  “It’s too risky,” I said. “We don’t even know if we can control the Kraken. And the membranium will just get angrier and hungrier if we fail. We have to attack them when all of their skins are off. So, how do we get all of the skins off and keep them distracted?”

  We all thought as hard as we could. It was hard with all the screaming.

  “Wait!” yelled Ben. “I’ve got it! We just need to get Nabila out here.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” said Gordon. “These guys are about to be sucked dry like a bowl of blood punch at a vampire prom, and all you can think about is your girlfriend?”

  “She’s not my girlfriend!” Ben yelled. “Hear me out! She showed us her machine that could make the sound of farting herring, right? If we could get her and her invention here, maybe she could attract a school of farting herring. She keeps the machine in her fanny pack, and she always has that on.”

  “But why would the membranium be interested in a school of farting herring?” I asked.

  “We could wrangle the herring she attracts into a tank at the aquarium,” Ben replied. “And then have the zombies bite all of them. Then, we’d have a school of zombified farting herring to lead down to the membranium hive with vegetable brain. We’d be able to lure ALL the skins and have a school of hungry fish to feast on the tender and delicious membranium organs!”

  “Genius!” Shane yelled.

  “All right,” I said. “Let’s tell Director Z and figure out how to get her here.”