by Jake Bible
He leapt at the stainless steel wall and buried his claws into the metal. He paused as he tested his grip then climbed the rest of the way up to the metal ceiling.
“What the hell are you going to do now?” Kinsey asked.
Ronald responded by punching one fist up through the metal. He pulled it out, shook off a good amount of blood, then punched again. And again. He kept punching until he could bend the steel back and climb up through the hole.
He was lost from sight for a while then his head appeared in the hole. He frowned down at Kinsey and shook his head.
“Empty,” Ronald said. “Windows and doors are sealed. No way out. I believe Shane is below. There is a hinge mechanism to this floor. I spotted it climbing through.”
“Shit,” Kinsey said. “Where is he?”
She looked back at the team and frowned.
“Hey!” she shouted. “Where’s Darby?”
Max spun about, expecting to see her right next to him, but she was gone.
“Dammit, Max!” Kinsey yelled.
“How is this my fault?” Max asked.
***
Shane made his move. It was a stumbling, flailing move as parts of him came awake after so many hours of being asleep, but it was still a move.
His fist slammed into a spider and it burst all over his hand and arm. He had never been more thankful for the stupid glowing blue suit.
Three spiders leapt onto his back and he rushed backwards, smashing them against the far wall. They popped like giant zits and Shane spun about to make sure they were dead. They were.
Four more spiders came at him from above, but he saw their movement in time to dive and roll out of the way. What he didn’t have time to do was get out of the way of the webs they sent flying from their butts. Or assumed it was from their butts. Shane wasn’t quite sure where spider webs came from.
What he did know was that spider webs were thick and sticky, and he was quickly tripped up and sent sprawling across the ground. He tried to get back up, but more web was sent at him and his legs became hopelessly tangled. He was down, no doubt about it.
Shane had tried to make his move, to fight his way free, but he just wasn’t up to it. As he lay there, with more and more web being flung across his body, he told himself that if he’d been at full strength, and his body not half asleep, he would have totally kicked some spider ass. That’s what he told himself.
He wanted to roll over so he could see them come for him, but his arms were stuck to the ground, caked over with spider webs. Not that rolling over would have mattered. His helmet was quickly enveloped in webbing and everything went dark.
Shane knew the suit was strong, but he didn’t have too much faith in that strength lasting. He’d seen the size of the spiders’ fangs. A continued attack from those would weaken some spot in the suit eventually, if they didn’t just outright puncture it. That was just him being realistic. His time was limited.
He felt a heavy pressure, then his body began to rock back and forth. It was slightly confusing why the spiders would go to so much trouble to incapacitate him just to shake him all over. But what the hell did he know about spider psychology?
The rocking continued then he was jerked to the side roughly.
There was a sound. A hacking sound? Hard to tell through the helmet.
Then all movement ceased. Shane prepared for the worst, ready to have a dozen spider fangs pierce his suit then his flesh. They’d found the weak point, he was sure of it.
Instead, the web was cut free from his helmet’s visor and he was surprised to be staring at the goggled face of Darby. She worked at his helmet and undid the collar, pulling it off and tossing it aside.
“You are Shane,” she said.
“Yep, that’s me,” Shane said. “Uh, good to see you, Darby. Are you still crazy? You aren’t going to kill me now, are you?”
“I’m not stable,” Darby replied. “But I’m not going to kill you.”
“Well, that’s good news,” Shane said.
With the helmet off, he could clearly hear yelling from out in the tunnel.
“Uh, did you sneak off to find me?” Shane asked.
“I saw a crack,” Darby said. “I followed the crack.”
“Yeah, I did the same thing,” Shane said as Darby cut away the webbing from his legs. He stood and stretched then smiled. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Darby said then pulled off her goggles and looked Shane square in the face. There was still enough glow from his suit for her eyes to be seen. “Who am I?”
“My hero?” Shane replied, trying not to look like he was gonna freak out.
Darby shrugged. “Not the answer I wanted, but I will accept it for now. Come on.”
“You got it,” Shane said.
***
The reunion was short. Everyone was glad to see Shane alive, but everyone was also worried about Darren who was not looking the best.
“We must hurry,” Ronald said. “I can smell the toxin doing damage to him.”
“We’ll hurry,” Kinsey said.
They had to fight their way through the swarm of beetles closest to the trapdoor, killing most of them with the grenade technique, but also by using up the last of their ammunition.
It was fortunate that they had more supplies up in the shell of a building above. They would need them.
***
Max stared at the huge birds that were swooping down at the B3. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
There was no one on deck, but the crows were definitely doing damage. Their claws were grabbing up any and all loose equipment, tossing it overboard into the harbor. Their beaks were working at hatches, trying to get into cracks, bending back any exposed, weak metal.
“Son of a bitch,” Max snarled. “What is wrong with this island?”
He took a knee and steadied his rifle. He got off three shots, dropping three crows, before the birds noticed the team on the beach and turned their attention that way. As one, they lifted into the air and raced back towards the island.
“I’ll need that,” Shane said, gently taking the .338 from Darby’s grip. She didn’t resist at all and even stepped back out of his way. “Thanks.”
“Lucy!” Max called.
“On it!” Lucy cried as she set up next to the Reynolds brothers. “I have one extra mag, that’s it!”
“Same!” Max said.
“Make the shots count, people!” Shane yelled.
The noise was deafening. Between the cawing of the oncoming crows and the loud reports from the large rifles, it was close to earsplitting on that beach.
But bird after bird fell, only a couple getting close enough to do any harm, but both were taken down quickly by Kinsey and Darby.
The water, the sand, the decrepit dock, all were covered in blood and feathers. Broken crow bodies littered the harbor from waves to beach.
“There,” Max said. “Can we leave now?”
Team Grendel hopped into the Zodiacs and raced back to the B3.
Chapter Twelve: Ship Of Fools
Ballantine sat in the conference room, an angry woman seated across from him. He’d made sure there was nothing that could be thrown, not even an extra chair. Ballantine had learned from experience that it was better to be safe than sorry.
“So, I’m your prisoner?” Nivia snarled. “You know I helped save Vincent Thorne’s life! This is what I get? I’m a prisoner!”
“You are not a prisoner,” Ballantine responded. “It’s just that I can’t take you into port anytime soon. Not until I have a couple more pieces in place.”
“Pieces? Like what, chess? This is all some game to you,” she spat. “I’ve been watching how you deal with your people. I’ve seen how they act around you. You use fear. You use misdirection. You use emotional weakness to exploit everyone and get them to do what you want.”
“Do I?” Ballantine asked. “Interesting theory.”
“It’s not a theory,” Nivia said. “It’s true. I live
in a world where psychopaths are considered the pinnacles of society. Billionaires lauded for their success that don’t have a shred of humanity in them. That’s how they made those billions. Total disregard for others. You’re exactly the same.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m exactly the same,” Ballantine said. “I care more than I show.”
“Good for you,” Nivia said and gave him a slow, golf clap. “Maybe you’ll get the Peace Prize this year.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” Ballantine chuckled. “I’m not one for peace.”
Nivia stared at him for a while then shook her head.
“You are something else,” she said. “Something completely else.”
“I have been told that,” Ballantine said.
“Can I at least get word to my family about what’s happened?” Nivia asked.
“Out of the question,” Ballantine said. “Your yacht will be reported missing in a couple of weeks and then the search will begin. No one will ever come to this island to find the skeletons, I’ll make sure of that, so you’ll be presumed to be lost at sea. Once I have what I need in place, we will drop you off at a port and you can tell whatever story you want to tell.”
“Really?” Nivia scoffed. “What will I tell? That beetles ate my family and friends and I was rescued by a group of criminals? That should go over just fine.”
“Which is why I’m not worried about you telling that story,” Ballantine said. “And we aren’t criminals. Not in the sense you mean.”
“You sure as hell aren’t heroes, either,” Nivia said. She stood up and pointed at the door. “Can I leave or do I need an armed escort?”
“What? Of course you can leave,” Ballantine said. “I can’t stress enough that you are not a prisoner. You just can’t leave the ship until I say so. There is a difference.”
“Not from where I’m standing,” Nivia said and stormed out of the conference room.
“Well, wasn’t that just lovely,” Ballantine said. “Who else can I piss off today?”
***
Lake double checked the fuel gauge and wrinkled his brow.
“That’s not going to get us very far,” he said as Darren sat slumped against the far wall. “I doubt we’ll get to the closest port, let alone a port of our choosing.”
“We go as far as we can then deal with the fuel situation,” Darren said. “At least we have enough to get away from that fucking island.”
Darren’s arm was in a sling and his entire shirtless torso was wrapped in massive bandages. There was a brown stain up by his shoulder, right where the spider had bitten him, but it was from the heavy poultice Ronald had made and applied, not just from the oozing pus that continued to leak from the bite. Although, the pus did contribute to the stain. As well as the smell. Between poultice and pus, Darren wasn’t too fun to be around.
Lake nodded his head back over his shoulder.
“That fucking island is now a dot on the horizon,” Lake said. “You should go out on deck and wave goodbye to it while you can still see it.”
“I’ll pass, Marty,” Darren said. “I’m good right here.”
“Hurts that much to move, eh?” Lake asked.
“You have no idea,” Darren said. “Whatever was in that venom is like some fucked up neurotoxin. Parts of me feel like they are on fire for no reason. Staying in one place and remaining as still as possible is all that helps.”
“Go lie down, man,” Lake said. “I can handle everything up here. We’ve got nothing but open ocean for days.”
“I’ve been lying down for days,” Darren said. “I’m good.”
“Okay, but if you fall over and start dying, don’t expect me to help,” Lake said. “You stink, man. I don’t want to get any of you on me.”
“Thanks, pal,” Darren chuckled. He lowered his voice. “So…are all the beers really gone or do you have a stash up here somewhere?”
“You’re not that sick for me to answer that,” Lake said.
“So you do have beers stashed,” Darren said.
“Get off my bridge,” Lake replied.
“Don’t make me tell the Reynolds,” Darren said. “They’ll tear this bridge apart, especially since they haven’t had weed in forever.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Lake said.
“Try me,” Darren laughed.
“Dammit, Chambers,” Lake snapped. He pointed at the fire extinguisher.
“What?” Darren asked. “In there? How?”
“Go see,” Lake said.
Darren gave him a weak grin.
“Ha! You don’t want to get up,” Lake said. “Guess you’ll never find out.”
Darren put his finger to his ear. “Max? Shane? You guys on the com?”
“Asshole,” Lake said and got up. He reached over and grabbed the fire extinguisher then unscrewed the bottom. Two cans of beer fell out. “These are it. You now owe me your life.”
“Pretty sure I already owe you my life,” Darren said.
Lake tossed him a beer and Darren automatically caught it then gasped.
“You deserve all the pain that caused,” Lake said.
“It’s worth it,” Darren replied through gritted teeth. He cracked open the beer and downed half in one swallow. “So worth it.”
***
“How’s the old man today?” Kinsey asked as she walked into the infirmary.
“Feeling even older,” Thorne said. He was laid up in a hospital bed with an IV and all kinds of wires attached to his body. “It’s this damn place. Gunnar won’t let me go back to my quarters.”
“No, I won’t,” Gunnar said. “You’ve already had two more minor heart attacks since you’ve been in here. Not to mention I have to keep that arm of yours draining at all times.”
Thorne looked down at the bandages wrapping his arm and the three tubes that were sticking out and wound down to a plastic bag that caught the yellowish liquid that seeped from where the blowflies had bitten him.
It wouldn’t have been so bad except that Gunnar and Nivia had been so worried about his heart that they hadn’t noticed where the blowflies had laid a good amount of eggs. Not until the skin began to crawl with maggots. At least the maggots meant that the wounds couldn’t go necrotic.
Not that Thorne gave two shits about necrotic tissue or about secondary heart attacks.
“If I don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to drain you,” Thorne said.
“Hey, Gun, are we still on for tonight?” Kinsey asked, ignoring her father’s complaints. “For Mike’s service?”
Gunnar visibly stiffened, his shoulders becoming tense bunches of muscle under his shirt.
“We need to say something,” Kinsey continued. “We can’t just pretend like it didn’t happen. You were the one that gave us that speech.”
“I know,” Gunnar said. “But we don’t even have a body.”
“We say a few words and that’s it,” Kinsey said. “We won’t dwell, we won’t get all sappy, we’ll just acknowledge who he was, what he meant to us, and how he was a part of our team and our crew.”
“He deserves that,” Thorne said.
“You just want to get out of that bed,” Gunnar said and sighed. “Fine. Tonight at sunset we’ll say a few words.”
“Good,” Kinsey said. “It’ll help with the pain.”
“You think that’s true?” Gunnar asked. “Really, Kins, do you think that’s true?”
“It can’t hurt,” Kinsey said.
“Yeah, it can,” Gunnar countered.
“Yeah, it can,” Kinsey agreed. “But it’s a hurt we have to have to get through it all.”
***
“You okay?” Max asked, lying next to Darby, their bodies naked and covered in sweat. “You went quiet.”
“I came,” Darby said. “Quiet is good.”
Max laughed and squeezed her hand then intertwined her fingers with his. He kissed each finger and pressed both of their hands to his chest.
“I’m not taking advantage of you, am I?�
�� Max asked. “You aren’t exactly who you used to be. I don’t want to force you to do something just because you feel that’s how you find out who you are.”
“Who am I?” Darby said, but it was a whisper and more to the room than to Max. “No, you aren’t taking advantage of me. I remember you. I remember us. Sort of. It’s like a fog with the details, but the emotions are there. That’s probably why I tried to kill you at first. All that emotion. I’m good now. We’re good now.”
“It’ll be like falling in love all over again,” Max said.
“Yes,” Darby said and rolled over on top of him. “And other stuff all over again.”
“Jesus, you may actually kill me after all,” Max said. “And it will be a glorious death.”
***
“Everyone is on deck,” Dana said as she stuck her head into the conference room. Her eyes were wary, but clear. “You coming?”
“I am,” Ballantine said. He stood, stretched, and sauntered over to her, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.
“What the hell was that for?” Dana asked. “One second you want to kill me and send me falling into a chute and now you’re kissing me?”
“We worked that out, didn’t we?” Ballantine asked, holding her shoulders and looking her square in the face. “Didn’t we?”
“We did,” Dana said, rubbing the back of her head. “This is your show. You call the shots. If I get in the way, then you kill me. I keep my mouth shut or you kill me. That simple.”
“That simple,” Ballantine said. “Glad you see the light.”
“You are crazier than I ever thought,” Dana said. “I’ll never be afraid of you enough not to tell you that. You are insane.”
“I’m way past insane, my dear,” Ballantine said and looped his arm through hers. “You promise to be good or do I have to do something more permanent?”
“You have no idea how sick you actually are,” Dana glared. Her eyes burned with hatred then cleared and she shook her head. “But I’m not going to be your victim, Ballantine. I made a promise, I’m going to keep it. But if this is ever all over, I will pay you what you are owed.”
