Monstrous

by Thomas E. Sniegoski

  Thank you for downloading this Simon & Schuster ebook.

  * * *

  Get a FREE ebook when you join our mailing list. Plus, get updates on new releases, deals, recommended reads, and more from Simon & Schuster. Click below to sign up and see terms and conditions.

  CLICK HERE TO SIGN UP

  Already a subscriber? Provide your email again so we can register this ebook and send you more of what you like to read. You will continue to receive exclusive offers in your inbox.

  This one is for Tyler McWeeney.

  His enthusiasm for Savage was so infectious it made me push myself all the more for the sequel.

  Hopefully I don’t disappoint.

  PROLOGUE

  The Calm Before the Storm

  Delilah Simpson dreaded the sound, that low buzzing of her phone that grew in intensity, dragging her up by the ear out of the deepest of sleeps and back into reality.

  It was time to get up for work.

  Unngh, she thought as she reached out to the nightstand for the phone. Part of her was tempted to turn it off and roll over for just a little bit longer, but she knew that would only lead to trouble.

  The old Delilah would have done just that and been late for work, or not shown up at all, but the old Delilah wasn’t here anymore.

  She hated to think of her old self as dead. That just seemed so morbid, although it wasn’t too far from the truth. The old Delilah had had to go away permanently, as her life took a new path . . .

  With her son.

  Delilah sat up and squinted at her phone, yawning loudly. The temperature outside was still warm at sixty-five degrees, but it looked like there was a chance for showers.

  Good to know. She stood up and stretched, then shuffled in early morning darkness to the playpen where Isaiah lay fast asleep. She leaned in to watch him, curled up on his side in his BB-8 pajamas. Delilah swore the four-year-old could have slept through a hurricane.

  She reached down and gently rubbed her son’s back, the love that she felt for him almost overwhelming, bringing her close to tears. He was why she’d had to change, why she had gone back to nursing school, and why she was up at the crack of dawn to work a co-op job at the Elysium Hospital in Boston.

  Isaiah stretched at his mother’s touch, and she again felt a wave of guilt over the fact that her son didn’t have a proper bed and was forced to sleep in a hand-me-down playpen given to her by one of her mother’s friends.

  “Momma’s gonna buy you a big-boy bed,” she whispered softly, watching the cutest of smiles spread across his gorgeous face as he continued to sleep on. But first she needed to get herself ready and get to work so that she could get paid.

  After her shower she quickly got dressed, deciding on the pink scrubs that day. It felt like a pink day for some reason. As she came out of her bedroom, the smell of strong coffee hit her like a physical blow, and she found that her mother was up and about.

  “What are you doing up?” Delilah asked the woman, who looked much larger than she was in the heavy blue bathrobe.

  “Tom and Jerry needed to eat,” she said, referring to the two black cats that prowled around her slippered feet. She was preparing two bowls of cat food for the hungry felines.

  “Those two are a pain,” Delilah said, pouring herself a quick mug of the strong, black coffee. “That’s why you’ve got to remember to close your door.”

  “I like the company,” her mother said, putting the bowls down on a plastic place mat beside the refrigerator.

  “Izzy still asleep?” her mother then asked.

  “Out like a light,” Delilah answered between sips of the scalding brew.

  “Good. When he’s up bright and early, I never get anything done around here.”

  Delilah took a few larger sips, not wanting to be late. She still needed to catch the Orange Line to Haymarket, and then a short walk to Elysium was required, and she wanted to be sure to leave herself enough time.

  “When you coming home tonight?” her mother asked.

  “Usual,” Delilah said, throwing her purse over her shoulder and leaning in to give her mom a kiss on the cheek. “But if they ask me to stay late . . .”

  “That’s all right,” her mother said, waving her away. “What’s a few more hours with the tiny terror.”

  They both laughed at that, knowing that Izzy could be quite the wild man sometime.

  “You be careful,” her mother said as Delilah went to the door, undoing the locks to leave. “You might want to take your umbrella,” she added. “Think it might be fixin’ to rain.”

  Going back in to find the umbrella could throw off her timing, and she decided against it.

  “I’m good,” she told the woman. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  Delilah closed the door and remembered something that she hadn’t done. “Shoot,” she said, standing there, hand still holding the doorknob.

  Every morning when she left, she told her mother to kiss Isaiah for her and to tell him that his mommy loves him.

  She actually considered searching for her keys and going back in but decided against it. She didn’t want to risk being late.

  And besides, she’d be home before she knew it and could tell him herself.

  Outside the apartment on Columbus Avenue she could suddenly feel the change in the air. Yeah, it did feel like rain, she thought as she hurried across the street to make the trolley.

  But it also felt like something more.

  What that was she could not say.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Benediction Island, Massachusetts

  It was as if all sound had been sucked from the tent as the realization of what Borrows had just relayed from his tablet began to sink in.

  Another storm was forming. Not over tiny, peaceful Benediction Island, like yesterday, but over the city of Boston.

  Sidney sat numbly on the cot, watching the expressions of the others there with her. The scientist who had been asking her questions about the previous night looked as though he might be sick. What did he say his name was? Sayid? Dr. Sayid?

  The woman standing next to him, Langridge, immediately placed her hand on the butt of the gun that was holstered at her side.

  Cody, Sidney’s ex-boyfriend, and her friend Rich both looked like they wanted to run. Her new friend, Isaac, glanced around the tent as if bored. She had no idea what he might be thinking. And poor Snowy, her white German shepherd, whined pathetically and nuzzled Sidney’s hand as if reading their vibes.

  She didn’t blame any of them in the least for their reactions now, not after what they had experienced last night—what they had lost to the . . .

  Invasion.

  The word was sharp, cutting, brutal in its revelation.

  What had happened yesterday—what had come in the storm—it wasn’t anything natural at all. It had been planned—directed.

  She remembered the mental connection she’d made with something not of this world and shuddered so hard she thought her back might break. “I know what it is,” she said. “It’s an invasion.”

  They were all looking at her now.

  “How do you know what—” Langridge started to ask, moving toward her.

  “This is just the beginning,” Sidney continued, ignoring the security officer, wanting, needing them all to know how bad it truly was—how bad it was likely to get. “They come in the storm.”

  She saw, clear as day, the thing in the cave, its quivering, gelatinous mass, the thick black tendrils that covered it, broadcasting its signals throughout the island—urging everything that crawled, slithered, and flew to attack and kill if they could.

  No mercy.

  There was no mercy in an invasion like this.

  “The storm hides the arrival of the aliens. . . . It keeps us ins
ide, isolated . . . and then they can—”

  “Sidney, where are you getting this from?” Dr. Sayid asked.

  She remembered the feel of the alien’s slippery, rubbery flesh beneath her and the sucking sounds as she’d stabbed her makeshift spear into its body over and over again. She remembered the sudden rush of energy through her body as she’d somehow connected with it, the images of an alternate reality that had filled her mind, and the others. The others, who had not at all liked her presence in their realm, had tried to destroy her mind.

  She could still feel something inside her head, something wrong—like a splinter just below the skin—imbedded, festering.

  Poisoning.

  “I . . . I somehow connected with it.”

  Langridge and Sayid looked at each other. Was that skepticism or fear on their faces?

  “Okay,” the scientist said, taking a deep breath and turning his eyes back to Sidney. “You’re saying that you somehow connected with the organism in the cave?”

  Sidney nodded, nervously petting Snowy’s fur.

  “Then maybe you can give us some insight into what we’re dealing with here.”

  “We need to notify the NSA immediately,” Langridge stated, hand still on her gun.

  “Is that who you guys are working for?” a familiar voice asked. They all looked to see Doc Martin, Benediction’s veterinarian, coming into the tent. “The National Security Agency?”

  “We’re a science division of the NSA,” Langridge explained. “We need to let the authorities in Boston know immediately that a threat is imminent and—”

  “Why? What’s wrong now?” Doc Martin asked, pulling a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of her bloodstained smock.

  “Another storm,” Cody said grimly. “This time over Boston.”

  “Another . . . Shit,” she said, putting the smoke into the corner of her mouth and fishing for a light. “We gotta do something.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” Langridge said, turning quickly and rushing from the tent.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Sayid said politely, and then followed the security officer out toward a larger tent, where there appeared to be much hustle and bustle.

  Cody and Rich were looking at Sidney now. There was something strange in their attention.

  “What?” she asked them.

  “Are you all right, Sid?” Rich asked. “This stuff about connecting with that . . . that monster . . .” He paused, and the look on his face told her that he was remembering the horror of the creature in the cave.

  “She’s fine,” Cody answered for her.

  “What are you guys talking about?” Doc Martin wanted to know. “Who connected with what?”

  “I did,” Sidney said, and told Doc Martin what she had already explained to Langridge and Sayid.

  “But she’s fine,” Cody said again when she had finished.

  “I don’t know if that’s true, Cody,” Sidney said, struggling to keep her voice from cracking. “I guess I got inside their heads . . .” She paused, her stomach roiling. “But they got inside mine, too.”

  Doc Martin sat on the cot beside her and carefully looked her over. Sidney’s hands were still bandaged from the insect bites, as were many areas of her body, but what she was feeling as a result of the connection, it was more than physical.

  “Are you all right?” Doc Martin asked, the concern clear in her tone and her gaze.

  Sidney didn’t answer right away, not wanting to lie to someone who was as close to her as family. Something was still there, inside her head. Maybe it would go away over time, but as for right now . . .

  “I really don’t know,” she finally admitted, hot tears beginning to roll down her face.

  And Doc Martin pulled her close and hugged her.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The train was late.

  “C’mon, c’mon,” Delilah muttered, checking the time on her phone as she stood before the subway car’s doors waiting for them to open.

  They’d been stuck mid-tunnel since State Street, and she was tempted to pry apart the doors and walk the rest of the way through the dark tunnel to her stop at Haymarket. Although as she peered through the window in the door, she caught sight of something that might have been a rat moving from one patch of shadow to the next and thought better of it.

  Thankfully, the train began to move, ever so slowly, and she finally reached her stop. The doors opened with a hiss, and she was the first one out, a wave of passengers spilling out to either side of her. She wasn’t late yet—

  Yet.

  Usually she stopped at Dunkin’ Donuts for a coffee, but if she didn’t today, she just might make it in time. She dashed past the donut kiosk and up the escalator, pushing through the doors onto Congress Street. Now she had at least a seven-minute walk up to Cambridge Street and then down to Elysium.

  Delilah checked the time again on her phone, just as a huge drop of water splashed upon the screen.

  Please, just five more minutes, she thought as she gazed up at the weirdness of the sky. While she’d been underground, it had become incredibly dark, the clouds—which seemed so close to the ground—swirling and churning like smoke. Once again she regretted not listening to her mother and quickened her pace, practically running to beat the oncoming storm.

  But the wind picked up, blowing the increasing raindrops sideways, and it was only a matter of seconds before she was soaked.

  At Blossom Street she passed the construction site that would eventually be a grand subway station, connecting all of the various lines and exiting practically in front of Elysium. She’d heard it would be finished sometime in the early spring of next year—perfect for her commute, if Elysium hired her full-time after her graduation from nursing school.

  The rain was coming down in drenching sheets now, as if someone had turned on a fire hose. She tried to quicken her pace even more as she turned up the drive to Elysium’s front entrance, fighting the wind and rain but losing miserably.

  She climbed the old stone steps and was reaching out to grasp the door when the wind seemed to decide that she wasn’t going inside. It felt like a huge hand was pushing her back down the stairs, the pelting rain stinging her face and obscuring her vision.

  But suddenly a strong hand took her arm, and she heard a familiar voice over the howling wind. “Come in, come in!” shouted Sam, the security guard, as he pulled her through the glass door and yanked it closed behind them.

  “Thanks, Sam,” Delilah said breathlessly, laughing as she tried to wipe away the water that cascaded down her face. “I wasn’t sure I was gonna make it.”

  “I saw you coming up the drive and thought you might need a hand.” The older man smiled warmly at her; his was the first kind face she’d seen when she’d started her job at Elysium. “Looks like you’re gonna need a towel.”

  “Maybe two,” she added, looking down at the way her scrubs were plastered to her body.

  “I’m surprised you even came in today,” Sam said, moving back to his desk.

  “Little rain ain’t gonna keep me away,” she told him with a smile.

  “Little rain?” he said. “Governor’s declared a state of emergency. This thing’s turned into a full-blown hurricane.”

  “Seriously?” she asked.

  The old man nodded. “Yeah. They’re calling it an atmospheric anomaly, came outta nowhere and it’s gonna be big. You should get upstairs and see if they’ve got something dry for you to put on. You’ll catch your death with these air conditioners blowing on you all day,” Sam added as he returned to his seat behind the desk.

  Delilah felt a sudden chill and had to agree with the old security guard. “True, and I don’t want to be later than I already am!” she said, moving toward the elevators, where a few others waiting gave her wet clothing a look, probably glad it wasn’t them.

  * * *

  Delilah’s manager, Mallory, was so relieved that the co-op student had actually made it in to work when so many other
s hadn’t that she ignored the fact that Delilah was late. She even managed to find a set of dry scrubs for the young woman.

  The new scrubs were blue, and as Delilah peeled off her wet clothing, she realized that it did feel more like a blue day after all. She left the bathroom, carrying her own pink scrubs in a dripping ball, and caught sight of a housekeeping cart parked against the opposite wall outside the men’s room. She walked over to it to grab a plastic bag for her clothes.

  “What are you looking for, beautiful?” she heard a pleasant voice ask from behind her and turned to see Mason exiting the bathroom, carrying his mop.

  “Hey, Mason,” Delilah said. “How’s the family?”

  The man smiled as he approached her. “They’re good,” he said. “Thanks for asking. The baby is getting so big—six months now, hard to believe. You need something there?”

  “Just grabbing a plastic bag for my clothes,” she said, holding up the wet ball of pink. “I got caught in the storm coming in.”

  “Let me help you with that.” Mason grabbed a roll of small plastic trash bags and tore one off, handing it to her.

  “Perfect, thanks,” she said, taking it from him and slipping the pink scrubs inside.

  “Don’t be showing that around,” he warned with a wink. “Deacon sees it, he’ll make you pay for it.”

  Deacon was the head of custodial services and had a reputation for nickel-and-diming his staff. Everyone seemed to be a little afraid of him.

  “I’ll be careful,” she promised as she headed back in the direction of her unit for morning report.

  She turned the corner and almost collided with a dog. Immediately she froze, her heart pounding and her breath catching in her chest as her eyes locked with the big dog’s chocolate-brown orbs.

  Nothing scared Delilah more than dogs.

  She couldn’t have been any older than six, playing with her friends at the playground when the rottweiler got loose. She remembered having seen it earlier, fascinated by its black-and-brown coloring and how powerful it looked.