The Tide_Dead Ashore

by Anthony J Melchiorri

  But even with his efforts to suppress the swarm, there was no end to the monsters trampling each other through the street. Others began flooding out of the alleys. Even more leapt across the roofs of nearby buildings, silhouetted by moonlight.

  “Captain,” Andris said. “I’m going to need some help or a bigger gun.”

  Dom paused, looking over his shoulder, and cursed. His eyes surveyed his crew as he wondered who he could afford to switch from digging duty to shooting. “Cover’s blown already. Andris, let’s do this your way.”

  “I thought you would never ask.”

  Spencer and Glenn took up shooting positions a safe distance away. Andris placed a few small C4 charges that should be enough to clear the debris, or at least turn it to gravel, without collapsing the sewer structure beneath.

  Meredith hoisted Hamid to his feet and tried shielding his body with hers as she jogged away. The others ducked behind a wall, bracing themselves. Andris pressed the detonator as he slid to safety. Heat rolled over him, and pulverized rock sprayed the street. A cloud of gray dust billowed from the explosion site, and even more Skulls called out in answer.

  Andris wasted no time. He charged across the street and shoveled through the rest of the debris. The loose stones fell away, revealing the darkness of a tunnel.

  “We’re in!” Andris bellowed.

  “Go, go, go!” Dom commanded the others, waving his arm forward. “Miguel, Glenn, cover us!”

  The air was split by gunfire. Andris helped Jalil and Hamid first, followed by Spencer, Jenna, and Meredith. He turned and fired into the Skulls. Miguel and Glenn were already retreating.

  “Quickly!” Andris said. A Skull leapt off a roof, soaring with claws outstretched. Andris fired, and its body slammed onto the road by Miguel’s feet. “Quickly, damn it!”

  Dom lunged toward the tunnel. The captain was favoring his right leg, limping heavily. The wound must be hurting him. A Skull sliced the air just behind Dom, centimeters from catching his spine. Miguel lashed out with the knife in his prosthetic. The blade sliced through the Skull’s throat, and the thing collapsed, choking on its own blood.

  The captain was a proud man, but Andris didn’t care about that right now. Better to have a bruised ego than a bite from a Skull. He grabbed Dom under the arm and half carried him down into the tunnel. Miguel and Glenn followed.

  Then came the Skulls.

  -26-

  Kara stood at the open hatch of the cargo bay, staring out over Lajes. Lauren had insisted she and Sadie return to the ship. One second, it was “stay at the base because it’ll be safer.” The next, it turned out Lajes was even less safe than the Huntress.

  Truth be told, she was happy to be back on the ship. Not only was it the closest thing to home now, but she doubted she’d run into a Skull here.

  She wondered how her father was doing. She tried not to think about the dangers he was facing, especially when Sadie tugged on her sleeve and asked for the thousandth time when Dad was going to be home.

  She didn’t know. Kara never had any answers because no one ever told her anything.

  Every time she saw Thomas in the corridors, he seemed to avoid her, rushing back and forth between the electronics workshop and the bridge on some self-designated mission. At one point, she tried pressing her ear against the cold steel of the workshop’s hatch, but it had been impossible to make out anything from inside.

  She shuddered. He’s done this a thousand times, she thought, and he’ll do it a thousand more. You have to trust him.

  Her father had spent most of his life on secret spy missions. She’d grown up thinking her father was some boring paper-pushing ambassador working overseas. She’d at least had the overseas part right. Up until the outbreak, she had lived worry free, without any idea that her father was crawling through biological weapons labs and terrorist bomb-making facilities while she slept comfortably in her bed back in Maryland.

  Ignorance was nice, she thought. But now that her eyes had been opened, they couldn’t be shut. She had been worried, even physically sick at times, knowing what her father was up against in the field. Every time he left, she had to work hard to convince herself he would return. She focused all her energy on believing he would walk through the door, envelop her and Sadie and Maggie in his big arms, and squeeze them tight.

  But this time was different. This time she had seen the pain in each step he took. The way his face sagged with exhaustion when he thought no one else was looking.

  He’d been hurt before. So had all the Hunters. Her fingers found her cheek, and she traced the gouges in her skin. She’d been hurt, too. It was nearly impossible to find anyone who had escaped from Skull-infested territory without scars. But still...

  She wanted to trust Meredith’s promise that she wouldn’t let anything happen to him. She liked Meredith. Really, she did. But sometimes people made promises they couldn’t keep.

  Her eyes traced the waves crashing against the Huntress’s hull. Spray hung in the air, illuminated like a spray of blood by the dull red glow of the cargo bay lights.

  She wished Navid were here. She could talk to him about this stuff, and he wouldn’t judge her or say she was overreacting. He wouldn’t think she was weak for worrying about her father. Instead, Navid was across the Atlantic with the old man who had started this nightmare. Another person to worry about. Another person who might not come home.

  “Quit bitching,” Kara said out loud. She shouldn’t be complaining. She was alive. Her sister was alive. Her father was a hero. She should be proud of that.

  But she was only human.

  She stared out at the port, following the curve of the city where it led up to Lajes Field.

  In just a few minutes, she would need to return to the lab. At least she had been able to help Lauren, Peter, and Sean with the synthesis of the Phoenix Compound. Navid had taught her. It was simple, really. The glass tubes, beakers, and heating elements had been intimidating at first, but she had found synthesizing a batch of chemicals wasn’t all that different from baking. You just needed to follow the instructions and use the right ingredients.

  And as a bonus, it gave her something to keep her mind off the world outside the lab. She started to turn away from the island, ready to lose herself in the work again. But then something caught her eye.

  A dull light glowed from Lajes. The base had limited power thanks to a generator. But this glow was different from the sickly yellow of lithium lights. Tinged with red, it flickered like a candle.

  Kara’s stomach flipped. Exactly like a candle.

  “Fire!” she yelled, her words echoing in the empty cargo hold. “Fire!”

  ***

  Lauren held onto the handrail of the Humvee with a white-knuckled grip as it bounced along the road toward Lajes Field. Peter stared straight ahead, his jaw set. Between them lay the last few boxes of medical supplies they could spare. They had left behind only the barest minimum of antibiotics, painkillers, and other crucial supplies. Just enough to help the Hunters if they should return with minor injuries.

  They had gotten in contact with Lajes as soon as Kara had alerted them about the fire. The Humvee, with a driver and a soldier to provide them an escort, had been sent to pick them up before they even got off the comms with Ronaldo. A voice barked over the Humvee’s radio. Lauren looked to the driver for a translation.

  “The isolation ward is on fire,” the man said. “But it is spreading. I do not know the cause yet. They said one Skull is loose, but we will be cautious in case there are more.”

  Lauren stared out the windshield. Pillars of flame rose from the broken windows of buildings. Smoke plumed in oily clouds. The soldier in the passenger seat of the Humvee shifted nervously. His hands tightened around his rifle.

  “One guy,” Peter muttered. “That’s all they sent for us.”

  “It’s only one Skull out there, too,” Lauren said. “We’ve dealt with worse.”

  The jagged staccato of automatic gunfire sounded in
the distance. A shrill cry rose above the crackle of the flames. Her heart crept into her throat, and she found it hard to swallow. Dark shapes flitted across the light of the fire. Soldiers rushing into the isolation ward? Or were those Skulls?

  Another frantic voice exploded over the radio in between bouts of static. The driver translated the statement. “He says they need the doctors immediately.” Then the driver offered his own interpretation. “I believe there are many injured.”

  “That’s what we’re here for,” Peter said. “You sure there’s only one Skull loose?”

  “That is what they told me,” the soldier replied.

  Peter turned away from the flames. The bags under his eyes had never seemed bigger. His eyes were dull and bloodshot. If Lauren hadn’t known better, she would’ve assumed he’d been infected. But the Phoenix Compound’s effects were still swimming through his blood. It was nothing more than exhaustion from being worked to the brink of collapse.

  Another yell resounded over the field, and Lauren’s eyes grew wide. Between the flames and the screams, she felt as if they were being driven into hell.

  “You’re having second thoughts,” Peter whispered, leaning toward her.

  Lauren almost lied. “I’m not a battlefield medic,” she admitted.

  Patients’ lives were at stake. And worse, as the patients came out of their medically induced comas, they’d wake up enraged, teetering on the edge of becoming full-blown Skulls.

  “We have to hold the base,” Lauren said. “If we lose Lajes, we lose this foothold to Europe and the rest of the world. If there’s something we can do to help, we have to do it.”

  The corners of Peter’s lips twitched as if he was about to smile. He didn’t, but it was enough. “That’s the Lauren I know.”

  “This should be straightforward.”

  “We always say that.”

  “And we’re always wrong, I know. Doesn’t hurt to be optimistic. I want you to triage any casualties.”

  “I know what to do,” Peter said, cracking his knuckles.

  While they bounced along in the Humvee, Sean was searching for the Oni Agent vector on the island. How it got here, where and what it was—those were all still mysteries. The only thing they knew for sure was that something was turning people into Skulls faster than they could quarantine them. And worse yet, they would run out of sedatives to keep those people under control before tomorrow’s end.

  More gunfire exploded, sounding closer this time.

  “Just one Skull, huh?” Lauren asked the soldier.

  “They are fast,” he replied. “Very hard to hit sometimes.”

  Without warning, the Humvee swerved. Lauren was thrown against the back of the vehicle. She reached for a handhold as the Humvee jolted and rolled onto its side. The sounds of fracturing glass filtered through the scrape of metal against pavement. Something shrieked outside. Distinctly inhuman.

  Smoke poured from under the hood of the Humvee, and Lauren blinked through its biting sting.

  “Peter, you okay?” Lauren asked.

  He didn’t answer right away, and his eyes were unfocused. Alarms went off in Lauren’s head. “Peter, can you hear me?”

  His eyes found hers. “Yeah, yeah. I’m with it. Caught me by surprise, but I’m with it.”

  Lauren crawled toward the front of the Humvee. The driver was lying against the window, a bloody spiderweb of cracked glass framing his battered face. He was already gone. The soldier in the passenger seat dangled from his belt. Blood trickled down his forehead. He struggled to maneuver himself to unclick the belt and let himself go.

  “Hold on,” Lauren said. She reached to help him.

  Before she could grab his seatbelt, glass exploded from the passenger-side window. A scaly hand wrapped around the soldier’s neck. He yelled as the claws dug into his flesh, rivulets of fresh blood tracing from the wounds. Another hand shot in, yanking the soldier against the belt. A Skull’s face appeared in the dim glow of the dashboard lights, teeth bared as it tried to pull its fresh prey out.

  Peter froze, pressed against the floor of the sideways Humvee. Lauren grabbed the soldier’s arm and pulled in a desperate tug-of-war.

  “Peter!” Lauren cried. “Help me!”

  Peter shook himself from his shock and crawled toward her. He picked up the rifle that the soldier had dropped and aimed it at the Skull. All the while, the soldier flailed, blocking Peter’s shot. Blood trickled over Lauren’s arm from the man’s wound, and she nearly lost her grip. Then the gun went off, deafening in the enclosed space.

  The Skull retreated.

  “Is it dead?” Peter asked.

  Lauren tried to look out the windshield. Shapes moved in the distance near the fire, but she couldn’t see the Skull’s body.

  “Maybe it fell over there,” Lauren said, pointing toward the wide blind spot from the sideways Humvee. She pushed herself up to the passenger seat and released the soldier, helping him down. He was mumbling prayers to himself. Tears intermingled with blood.

  “Careful,” Peter said. He held the rifle at arm’s length as if it were a poisonous snake.

  “Cover me, okay?”

  Peter shouldered the rifle again. He looked completely uncomfortable with it. Neither of them had really trained with weapons, other than the very basic gun safety course that Dom insisted all of his crew members take.

  Before Lauren could poke her head through the open window, the demonic face of the Skull appeared above her again. She ducked, and the claws swept the air where her head had been. Instead, it dragged the injured soldier away. He disappeared out of the window, crying in agony, and the sounds of wet slurping and tearing sounded just outside the Humvee.

  “Son of a bitch!” Lauren cried. “Peter, give me the gun!”

  Peter was quick to give up the weapon, and Lauren propped herself up on the passenger seat. The Skull was crouched over the soldier’s body. The man had gone quiet. A dark, shimmering pool of blood stained the street around him, and the creature dipped its claws into the man’s belly, pulling out ropey entrails.

  “Bastard,” Lauren said. She aimed the rifle as best as she could and fired on the distracted Skull.

  She wasn’t a good shot. Not at all. But she was close enough that it didn’t make a difference. Bones chips and flesh flew from the Skull as she unloaded, rapidly squeezing the trigger. The rifle bucked against her shoulder. She kept firing until the air stank of cordite and the bolt locked back.

  Peter looked up at her from inside the Humvee. Lauren would have laughed at the stunned expression on his face, except that if she opened her mouth, she would probably throw up.

  Together, they climbed out of the wrecked Humvee. There were no nearby vehicles. No more armed soldiers to escort them. And the fire was still raging at the base. They needed to get there and help the patients before it was too late.

  “We’re in deep shit now,” Peter said.

  A Skull bellowed in the distance. So much for there only being one monster loose on the island.

  “Deep shit indeed,” Lauren echoed.

  -27-

  “Keep going!” Dom roared. Hamid and Jalil took off down the tunnel with the Hunters in tow. “Andris, Glenn, on rear guard. Blow the entrance when we’re clear!”

  “You got it, Captain!” Andris replied. He and Glenn shouldered their rifles and sent a volley of fire into the Skulls.

  Hamid led them onward. Dom had expected the teen to crumble under the threat of the oncoming horde. But although his face was pale, Hamid never faltered. His shuttered, determined expression reminded Dom of Kara. The horrors she’d experienced had robbed her face of softness, and her rare smiles were mere shadows of the happy, energetic young woman she used to be.

  Don’t think about your girls, he told himself. They’re safe. Thomas and Lauren will protect them.

  “We are ready, Captain!” Andris yelled.

  “Do it!” Dom shouted back.

  Andris depressed the detonator. The earth rumbl
ed. Plumes of gray dust rolled toward them, enveloping Skulls and humans. The din of crashing rock echoed down the sewer. Heat rolled over them, followed by a rushing wind. Andris had calculated the explosives well, but Dom expected nothing else. Just enough to destroy the entrance but not enough to bring down the ceiling on them.

  Though the rocks settled, the scrape of taloned feet on the dried sewer floor did not. Dom turned around with Glenna and Andris beside him. They had already flipped down their NVGs. Bright-green shapes appeared in the dust.

  Dom squeezed the trigger and brought down Skull after Skull. The monsters shrieked and flailed as they fell in waves.

  “That the last of ’em?” Glenn asked.

  One of the Skulls dragged itself out of the corpse pile. Blood dripped from a wound in its chest and a cracked plate along its neck. Andris pressed the barrel of his gun to its forehead and fired.

  “Good work,” Dom said, letting his rifle fall to his side on its strap. He patted Andris’s back. “I’m damn glad we’ve got you on our team.”

  Andris gave him an uncertain look. Dom saw something behind the man’s eyes. Something he couldn’t quite place, as if Andris was doubting himself. It was a disconcerting look for the cocky Latvian.

  “I mean it,” Dom said. “You saved our assess back there.”

  “I have done no such thing yet, Captain,” Andris said. “This mission is not over.”

  Dom left it at that. He could see something was bothering the man, but there was little time to play psychologist. He’d sit down with Andris when they got back to the ship. For now, all he could do was hope that the former Legionnaire wasn’t about to lose his nerve.

  We’ve been lucky, Dom thought. No casualties since coming to shore in Morocco. Someone really was looking out for them. He liked to think that Renee and the other fallen Hunters were up there somewhere, watching their backs. He looked up at the ceiling of the sewer as if he could see straight up to Heaven. Thanks, whoever you are.