The Tide: Deadrise

by Melchiorri, Anthony J

  A horrendous ripping noise sounded as the Goliath forced himself into the shop. The entire building shook. Dust drifted from the rafters, and glassware toppled from nearby shelves. The beast couldn’t stand at full height, so it dropped to all fours. It pulled itself through the debris toward Meredith. Its spikes snagged more shelves, sending books and snow globes tumbling. Another roar blasted Meredith’s eardrums, but she pushed on. The monster’s progress was slow enough that she judged it was time to try Plan A. She lobbed a chunk of plastic explosive at the creature and then ran from the gift shop before she depressed the detonator.

  A low rumble preceded the collapsing roof. Meredith sprinted to Andris’s position near the mansion. The estate was quiet now except for the shriller cries of smaller Skulls somewhere in the woods. No one saw her do a brief, end-zone victory dance. But the shifting rubble of the gift shop made her freeze. Dust plumed around a large shape as it stood from the broken beams and piles of bricks. The Goliath shook itself off and took several unsteady steps. One arm was a mess of charred muscle and busted skeletal plates. Covered in crimson, it hung limp by the monster’s side. Half of its face was devastated, too. The other half scrunched in a vicious snarl. The Goliath loped toward Meredith and closed the distance between them in seconds.

  “Dom, you all loaded up yet?” she asked over the comm link.

  “Just about,” he said. “I can see Glenn coming down the path now with Navid.”

  She knew she couldn’t risk leading this monster straight to the Zodiac. The others needed a chance to get away. It was time for Plan B.

  “Andris, you ready?”

  “Door’s open. Why don’t you stop by for a visit?”

  Meredith barreled down the hill toward the mansion. Her feet pounded like pistons. She felt like her body was turning into a machine as survival mode clicked on. The Goliath roared again, and Meredith could almost feel its hot breath wash over her.

  She didn’t waste time looking behind her. She ran straight into the carriage house. A collection of woodworking and farming equipment was displayed there: saws, scythes, plows, and axes. All objects she hoped would serve as powerful shrapnel. She dodged between the tools and then ducked out the back door. The Goliath careened into the building after her, and then the large rolling front door crashed down. The wounded beast bellowed as it searched for its prey.

  Without delay, Meredith dove for a nearby creek. Andris was waiting there, lying prone on the sloping bank. As soon as she joined him, he activated the remote detonator. Four simultaneous deposits of C4 exploded, one at each corner of the building. Meredith’s ears rang as heat rushed over her. A broken sawblade whooshed overhead. Splinters of wood rained down on them. She and Andris waited another three seconds and then started running.

  She stole a final glance to ensure the Goliath had finally met its end. The walls of the carriage house had been entirely blown out. The roof lay in pieces. Under a pile of twisted metal and wood, the Goliath pushed itself up with its one functional arm. It tried to stand. A scythe was embedded in its chest. An ax head had been wedged under the plates near its neck. The monster let out a weak cry that devolved into a gurgle. Blood bubbled between its tusks, and its remaining eye rolled up. It collapsed, and the ground shook with the impact.

  “Meredith, Andris, you okay?” Dom asked. “I’m sending up Glenn and Renee.”

  “No need,” Meredith said. “The Goliath is down.”

  ***

  Lauren locked the door to the head behind her. She caught a look at herself in the mirror. Dark bags hung beneath her eyes. Her hair was a rat’s nest. Her skin, usually olive–hued, appeared an unhealthily pale white. She sighed, longing for a cup of coffee. Or two, maybe three days of sleep.

  Her thoughts turned to Glenn. She imagined his strong arms around her as they slept in one of their berths. She wished she had some idea of where he was and how he was doing. Then she started to worry about the dangers he might be facing, even now, and she struggled to block the negative thoughts from her mind. Glenn needed her to be strong and capable. Worrying about him did neither of them any good.

  Smith rapped his knuckles on the hatch. “You almost done in there?” he shouted.

  “Please, just give me a minute,” Lauren called. She went into the cramped stall and sat on the toilet seat. From her pocket, she pulled out the small device Samantha had given her. It was about the size of her thumbnail and had a component that looked like it could be plugged into a USB port. The device was made of clear plastic, and she could see a complicated maze of circuits within it. But there was no note to explain what the hell it did.

  “Hurry up, or I’m coming in there,” Smith said.

  Lauren flushed the toilet, turned on the sink faucet briefly, and then stomped out. Smith escorted her back to the medical bay. Her team members all shared the same weary expression she’d noted on her own face. Their bodies might be giving out, but their keen minds and determined spirits never wavered.

  “Guess what?” Sean asked, a slight smile on his face. “We solved our Drooler problem.”

  Lauren cocked her head. She wanted to go to the computer immediately and see what Samantha’s gadget would do, but Sean had piqued her curiosity. “What do you have?”

  “It’s pretty ingenious, really,” Peter said.

  Sean absolutely beamed at the compliment.

  “Especially for a mere epidemiologist,” Divya remarked with a slight grin.

  “Hey, now,” Sean said, but he was still smiling. He offered her a silver device.

  She took the object, which looked like a spray gun for painting. “What is this?”

  “Peter was developing a nanofiber spray to use over anastomotic sites,” Sean said. “I, um, borrowed this.”

  “Right,” Lauren said, recalling Peter’s efforts. He’d been trying to reduce the risk of bleeding after suturing blood vessels together. That was a challenge they faced when treating combat injuries. Peter had adapted a standard spray gun to administer a coating of polymers over a wound. It provided a kind of dissolvable bandage that was more efficient at stopping bleeding than anything they could do by hand. “So what’d you do with it?”

  “I created a new polymer solution to use with the spray gun. But instead of biodegradable nanofibers, it sprays out microparticles. They stick to fabric and skin. At body temperature, they can be cured together with UV light.”

  Lauren raised an eyebrow. “I think I see where you’re going.”

  Sean bounced up and down on his heels. “The plastic material forms a thin, gas-permeable sheet around whatever you spray it on.”

  “So your skin could theoretically still breathe through it.”

  “Yep! But it keeps liquids off. Even Drooler spit.”

  “What are these polymer materials made of?” Lauren asked.

  “Mostly polyethylene. Very resistant to hydrochloric acid.”

  Sean took the spray gun back and aimed it at a foot-long strip of fabric he’d salvaged from the bay’s linen supply. He sprayed it and then tossed the piece of fabric in a cell incubator for thirty seconds to heat the fabric to body temperature. He retrieved the test strip, hung it up, and then played a UV light gun shaped like a hairdryer over the fabric.

  “This one’s untreated,” he said, hanging up a second sheet. He donned a pair of lab goggles and a heavy rubber protective coat. “Everyone is going to want to stand back.”

  Using a glass pipette, he drizzled Drooler acid over both sheets. The brown liquid merely slid off the first sheet. On the second one, it sizzled and burned, dissolving everything it touched.

  “Voila!” He said, turning to Smith. “See this? You’ll be damned glad you let us work in here when you can wear this”—he shook the spray gun full of polymer solution—“in the field to protect your ass.”

  “Fantastic work,” Lauren said, patting Sean’s back. “Dom’s going to be extremely pleased with this.”

  At the mention of their captain’s name, Sean seemed to defla
te a bit. Lauren understood what must be on his mind. Dom would be pleased—but only if he were still alive and somehow made it back to the Huntress. The group’s elation fizzled as they got back to work. Lauren periodically checked on Smith, but he remained in his chair by the lab’s hatch. She fought the urge to constantly touch her pocket to make sure Samantha’s device hadn’t fallen out.

  After what seemed like hours, Smith finally stood and stretched. Without a word, he left through the hatch and joined the guards in the medical bay. He struck up a conversation, carelessly turning his back to the lab. She slid the device from her pocket and quickly slipped it into the USB port of a computer. She ensured the monitor was turned so that the screen was hidden from the guards.

  “What are you doing?” Peter asked. “I already ran the—”

  “Just ignore me,” she said. “Act like nothing’s out of the ordinary. I’ll tell you about it later.”

  A progress bar popped up on her screen. After a few seconds, it reported that the appropriate drivers had been installed. Then a text document appeared. Here, at last, was the note she’d hoped to get from Samantha.

  Most of the software on here will install on its own. But there are a couple things I need you to do. You have to gain remote access through the ship’s comm equipment using your computer. The boys in the workshop are monitoring our intranet use, so I had to whip this up on a laptop without wireless access. Sorry! Follow these instructions, and you’ll be able to route your comp through the servers and past the firewalls Kinsey’s people set up. Then you’ll have direct contact with the comm links the Hunters wear in the field. Of course, you’re going to have some issues talking to them without arousing suspicion, so I also added in a program that converts whatever you type into a voice relay the Hunters will hear, and vice-versa. Whatever they say will be translated as text back to you. The voice recognition software is a bit janky, but better than nothing.

  Here’s the deal on our end: We sabotaged the comps controlling the engines before the boarding. Guards got us working on the repairs, and we’re trying to delay as long as possible. Bastards are hella suspicious. Figured you’d have better luck establishing comms with the Hunter. They won’t let me out of their sights for a second. Right now, they think I’m running a BIOS scan on the engine. They don’t have a damn clue. Ha! Anyway, do us proud, Lauren. Samantha out.

  Lauren scanned the rest of the instructions. Most of it outlined computer commands and functions Lauren didn’t know existed. She imagined the instructions must look crystal clear to Samantha. She guessed it was like a layperson trying to read one of her medical reports. Then Lauren realized she didn’t have to understand the instructions—only follow them. Her fingers started tapping across the keyboard as she copied the first several commands. She couldn’t tell if what she was doing was working.

  “Uh, Lauren,” Peter said over his shoulder, before turning back to a biosafety cabinet.

  Lauren looked up and saw Smith was headed their direction. She closed out of the console command window and slipped the USB device into her pocket. Her palms were clammy. She tried to keep her breathing normal as she pretended to work on a report.

  If she pulled this off, she’d reestablish communications with the rest of the Hunters. And then after that, they’d figure out how to retake the ship.

  -22-

  Dom’s rifle kicked against his shoulder. A Skull went down hard in front of the wharf. Meredith and Andris sprinted toward the Zodiac, their faces wrought in determination. More rounds flew as the Hunters sprayed into the roiling Skulls amassing along the riverbank. Corpses slipped into the water but were rapidly replaced by more Skulls lured by the sounds of battle.

  Meredith and Andris threw themselves into the Zodiac.

  “Glad to see you two,” Dom said as the duo landed and tumbled amid the packs. He helped Meredith sit straight, and Miguel throttled the motor. The craft sped away as another Goliath barreled through the trees. It crushed other Skulls underfoot. The boards cracked under its heavy weight as it burst through the pavilion at the end of the wharf. After coiling its muscles, the giant jumped for the boat.

  The Zodiac’s motor growled. Waves slapped against the bow. The Goliath soared with its arms and scythe-like claws outstretched.

  It plunged into the water just behind the Zodiac. A wave crashed over the stern of the craft and soaked the Hunters. The river swallowed the Goliath. One massive fist reached up out of the current. But its claws soon disappeared into the murky water.

  As they left Mount Vernon behind, Rick’s screams followed them. Tied next to the wharf, he stood no chance against the onslaught of Skulls. The monsters tore into him with claws as sharp and crooked as those he’d once used as garish jewelry. His reign of terror was over, but Dom wondered how many others were out there like them, taking advantage of other humans, helping the Oni Agent destroy humanity.

  Kara watched, unblinking, as he disappeared under the writhing monsters. It took Dom a moment to realize why the look on her face, hard and haunted, was so familiar. He’d seen it in the mirror and in the faces of his Hunters after an op gone bad.

  “What now, Chief?” Miguel asked.

  Dom paused for a beat. Truthfully, he didn’t have a plan. Just a goal: take back the Huntress. As it stood, they were completely unprepared to regain control of the ship. “Let’s find somewhere to rest. Figure out our next course of action.”

  “You got it.” The wind whipped over the Hunter’s face, tousling his dark hair, as he steered the Zodiac.

  Around another bend, Dom spotted a house overlooking the water. The house had expansive glass windows and a small pier that would be perfect for docking the Zodiac. But the sight of those enormous windows dissuaded Dom. If they were going to hide somewhere, he wanted actual shelter. He didn’t want to be on display to the Skulls—or any wandering humans—like a fish in an aquarium.

  “Keep moving,” Dom said.

  Next, they saw a line of smaller houses along the bank. Dom figured it would be too risky to camp out in an area that had been heavily populated before the outbreak. Too many people to turn into Skulls. They rounded another bend. There, a lone house rose above the river. Its windows were large, but heavy curtains obscured whatever lay inside. Dom estimated it to have at least four bedrooms. There was a gravel path leading to an empty dock. No vehicles were parked in the long driveway.

  “There,” Dom said.

  Miguel directed the boat toward the dock. Renee hopped out once they reached it and secured the mooring lines on the pilings.

  “Before we unload our gear, I want the house cleared. I’ll stay here with Spencer, the girls, and Navid. The rest of you, make a sweep.”

  The Hunters loaded their weapons and grabbed a few extra magazines. They were well-trained and moved fluidly, but Dom could tell by the looks on their faces and their uncharacteristic silence on the journey here that they were exhausted. He prayed the house was clear. They needed to recover from the battles with the Skulls and marauders. Sleep and food would do them a world of good. He waited with an arm wrapped around each of his daughters and his SCAR-H at his feet. Maggie was licking Navid’s face. He seemed not to mind as the dog tended to his wounds.

  After almost ten minutes, a voice crackled over the comm link. “We’re clear,” Meredith said.

  The Hunters returned to the boat, grabbed their packs, and marched back into the house. The group dropped their bags near the door and began exploring their temporary shelter. They had entered a large living area with a long couch. Other loveseats and armchairs were scattered next to a wall filled with shelves of books. Miguel walked over to the stove. “Gas,” he said. He flicked it on. The pilot light was out so it didn’t ignite, but the hiss of gas was evident. He rummaged through drawers and drew out a set of matches, lit one, and then held it near the burner. A small circle of blue fire formed around it. “Anybody up for some chow?”

  There was a chorus of cheers, and Miguel started scrounging through the cabi
nets for any canned food. The place had not been ransacked, and he discovered several cans of soup, beans, and vegetables. He combined them into a stew that wouldn’t even make it into a Michelin-rated restaurant’s dumpster, but it didn’t matter. The food was hot and nourishing. They demolished the meal with only a few slurps to break the silence.

  “Everyone get some sleep,” Dom said. “Plenty of bedrooms upstairs, so take your pick. I’ll do first shift on guard duty.”

  The group seemed reluctant to head up the stairs.

  “I think I’m going to grab a mattress and bring it down here,” Renee said after a moment.

  “Safer if we stick together,” Spencer said.

  Soon enough the living room floor was covered in cushions and mattresses. Sadie snuggled with Maggie, and the Hunters took up the rest of the makeshift beds. It wasn’t long before snores filled the room like sawblades.

  Kara joined her dad as he sat on the porch. “Can’t sleep,” she said in answer to his raised brow.

  “You want to talk?” he asked.

  She was silent for a moment. “No, not really.”

  He put one arm over her shoulder and brought her close. There were so many things he wanted to say. Mostly, he wanted to apologize. He’d dragged his daughters into this mess when he took them aboard the Huntress. He’d thought he could protect them. He cursed his own arrogance. Kara, Sadie, and Maggie should be at Kent with the other survivors where they could enjoy fresh air and the company of other kids. It was probably the most normal life possible during the end-times. The little towns on the island were still intact, and the people there had been nothing but fiercely generous and determined to hold out against the Skulls. He pictured the rescued midshipmen he’d left there, Rachel and Rory. They, too, had selflessly defended civilians at the Naval Academy and now lent their services to protecting Kent.