by David Meyer
“Me?” He shrugged off Morgan’s duffel bag. Kneeling down, he unzipped it. “You’re the one who couldn’t figure out how to use your steering lines.”
“I didn’t need them. In fact, I was doing just fine until you arrived.”
He quickly searched the bag. Inside, he found the Apex Predator logbook along with some food and a few bottles of water. The logbook was heavy and he considered throwing it away. But at the last second, he decided to hold on to it.
“Yeah, you were doing great.” He tossed a bottle to Toland. Then he opened one for himself and took a long swig. The cold water tasted like plastic. But he choked it down anyway. “Pinned up against that wreck, screaming like a fool.”
“Regardless, they didn’t notice me. And they wouldn’t have noticed me either. In case you forgot, they didn’t turn our way until you showed up.” Toland opened his bottle and swallowed down some water. “You got Derek killed back in Maine. I’m not going to let you do that to me.”
An image of Perkins, of the man’s torn-up body, shot through Caplan’s mind. It seemed so long ago, almost like it had happened in a past lifetime. And yet, only a week had passed since the attack. Since the emergency cauterization. Since the man’s death.
“I did everything I could to save him,” Caplan retorted.
“And yet, he still died.” Toland crossed his arms. “So, what now, Mr. Survival? How are you going to risk our lives this time?”
Caplan sighed. He didn’t like ending the argument on that note. But from experience, he knew there was no point in continuing on with it. Toland saw the world through a very unique—and irritating—set of lenses and that wasn’t about to change anytime soon.
“We’re not,” he replied. “For now, we wait.”
“And let those behemoths bring this building down on top of us?” Toland shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Then leave. Nobody’s keeping you here.”
Toland frowned. But he didn’t go anywhere.
“That’s what I thought.” Caplan searched the rest of the duffel bag. He discovered Mills’ collapsible bow and quiver at the bottom. His axes, meanwhile, were stuffed into a side pocket.
He withdrew the axes and gave them a long look. They wouldn’t help much against those behemoths. But he felt incomplete without them. So, he stuck them into his belt.
He ate a little food and offered the rest to Toland. Then he zipped up the duffel bag and rose to his feet. Crossing his arms, he tried to fight off the chill. When that didn’t work, he began to pace back and forth across the room.
The clamor died off. He could still hear behemoths, could still feel their ground tremors. But their shrieks and growls had grown faint. Their tremors had lost ferocity.
“I think they’re gone.” He shrugged the bag over his shoulders. “Ready to get out of here?”
Toland took a few practice steps. “Not really, but I’ll manage. Just don’t get us killed.”
Caplan opened the door. A sharp breeze stung his face as he looked for behemoths. They were gone so he stepped outside and made his way to the mouth of the alleyway.
A weird shriek rang out. His eyes lifted skyward and he saw a massive bird soar across the dark sky. It carried a wingspan of over two hundred feet. Its head was peach-colored. Its feathers were black with white streaks.
“A bird behemoth?” Toland grunted. “Now, I’ve seen everything.”
“Don’t be too sure about that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If James made bird behemoths, he probably made other types of behemoths, too.” He arched an eyebrow. “Maybe even insect behemoths.”
“That’s not funny.”
“Who’s laughing?”
Toland exhaled. “So, where are we going, Mr. Survival?”
“Boston Harbor.”
“Yet another dumb idea. We need to go north and get out of this city as fast as possible.”
Caplan stared east, the telltale sounds of distant behemoths ringing in his ears. “You’re forgetting Bailey. She went down near the harbor.”
“I’m not forgetting her. I just don’t care. And neither should you if you want to survive.”
“We’re not going to die.” His jaw steeled up. “But we’re not leaving her behind either.”
Chapter 40
Date: December 1, 2017, 1:10 a.m.; Location: Downtown, Boston, MA
Not much to see around here. But hey, look on the bright side, Caplan thought with a dark chuckle as he snuck down the chipped and battered sidewalk. At least you don’t have to deal with tourists.
The moon and surrounding fires shone brightly, but much of the light was gobbled up by the thick smoke and growing cloud cover. The result was an unsettling combination of dark light and light darkness.
Ahead, he saw Faneuil Hall. Or rather, what was left of it. The brick walls, drenched with snow, stood tall. But they sagged a bit and many of their windows were broken. The roof and bell tower were gone, presumably obliterated by a passing behemoth. As for the giant bell, it lay embedded in the sidewalk.
A loud wail rang out. Looking up, he saw yet another behemoth bird.
Toland eyed the creature with a mixture of apprehension and disdain. “This is a terrible idea. Boston Harbor is probably the most dangerous spot in this city right now.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Haven’t you ever seen birds swooping down into water, plucking up fish in their jaws? Now imagine that, just with us instead of some stupid fish.”
“That bird doesn’t need water to get us. It could snatch us right off the sidewalk at any moment.”
Before Toland could respond, the ground tremors intensified. Looking around, Caplan spotted an old building. He led Toland to it and they hunched down in its shadow.
Two behemoths, scuffling and biting and kicking up snow, rolled into the intersection. One looked like a cross between a llama and a camel. The other was part pig, part hippopotamus.
Growling in unison, they lunged at each other. The first behemoth got its teeth around the second one’s shoulder. But it bit gently. The second behemoth shook it off and emitted an exaggerated snarl. Still rolling, still scuffling, they passed through the intersection. The noises soon died off. The tremors normalized.
Caplan found the behavior curious. What he’d just seen wasn’t a real fight. It was a play-fight, waged with puppy-like enthusiasm.
The reborn megafauna fought anything that moved, including members of their own species. They killed each other with astonishing frequency. The behemoths, on the other hand, seemed to act differently. Why was that?
He examined the area around Faneuil Hall. “It’s clear,” he said. “Come on.”
They hurried east, sticking to the shadows. Caplan saw ice cream shops, clothing stores, hotels, salons. Some had been reduced to dust and rubble. Others had merely been abandoned to the elements. He also noticed cars, trucks, vans, ambulances, motorcycles, large potted plants, lampposts, and cash registers. Many of these things, these remnants of the old world, had been smashed underfoot. But not everything. Indeed, the more he looked, the more he realized just how much had survived the onslaught.
Lots of stuff, he thought. But unfortunately, not many people.
They hiked past dozens of corpses, all covered with thin veils of snow. Some showed symptoms of the HA-78 virus. Others had been stabbed or shot. Still others had been squished into now-dry bloody pulp.
As they walked, he kept his head on a swivel. He checked their rear, their flanks. But his search turned up nothing. No behemoths, no reborn megafauna. Oddly enough, the harbor was quiet and many buildings were in pretty decent shape. Looking ahead, he caught a glimpse of sparkling water. Don’t say it’s too easy, he thought. Which, of course, was immediately followed by another thought. It’s too easy.
He raced onto Long Wharf. He ran past a long building, parked cars, and numerous dying trees. Up ahead, he saw Boston Harbor. The rippling water was nav
y blue with just a foot or so of visibility. Most of the docks were damaged or submerged. But a few were still in good shape.
He hurried to the viewing plaza. Passenger ferries, Cape Islanders, sailboats, yachts, and sightseeing boats filled the harbor. Some ships were attached to still-intact docks. Others were offshore. Regardless, almost all of them were partially submerged in the dark water.
A light splash caught his attention. Turning south, he saw a boat cutting through the water. The object grew larger and larger until he recognized it as the luxury yacht he’d seen from above. Shifting his gaze to the helm, he saw Mills. She stood straight and tall, her blonde hair rustling in the wind.
A tired smile creased his face. He didn’t dare call out to her, lest he attract a behemoth. But he did raise his arms above his head and wave them in the air.
The yacht swerved north and then back to the west. Mills adjusted the wheel, aiming the bow at the wharf. The yacht, which was listing starboard just a bit, picked up speed.
His smile vanished. He could see details now. Her clenched jaw, the stress lines on her face. On top of that, she was coming in way too fast.
“And this is why women shouldn’t be allowed to drive.” Toland adopted his most superior look. “If she doesn’t slow down soon, she’ll blow that boat all to hell.”
Caplan shifted his gaze to the wake. “She can’t slow down.” His jaw tightened. “Something’s chasing her.”
Chapter 41
Date: December 1, 2017, 1:36 a.m.; Location: Downtown, Boston, MA
A dark shadow, ancient and mysterious, materialized in the navy blue water. At sixty to seventy feet in length, it was the size of a mature sperm whale. But Caplan knew this was no whale. It was another creature from the past, reborn and blown up to a monstrous size by Corbotch’s scientists.
Toland’s superior look vanished. Tentatively, he took a step backward.
The giant shadow launched itself out of the water. Its salmon-like body, sleek and scaly, surged forward. Its mouth opened wide, revealing a pair of giant fanged teeth.
The teeth snapped wildly at the yacht. They came up a few feet short and the behemoth fish splashed back into the harbor. But the impact roiled the water, sending a large wave screaming into the boat. Water rained down on Mills, soaking her from head to foot. Undeterred, she continued to direct the boat forward, distancing herself from the sea monster.
Toland retreated to the far end of the viewing plaza. Caplan, meanwhile, stood his ground. Faster, he urged. Faster!
The yacht ripped through the water. Even so, the behemoth had little trouble catching up to it. With another gigantic surge, it flew out of the water.
Mills looked at the creature. Then she released the wheel and ran to the edge of the boat. Extending her arms, she dove into the dark water.
The behemoth’s fangs crashed into the yacht, puncturing the fiberglass. It bit down hard as it smashed back into the harbor, ripping the boat in half and sending out another gigantic wave.
Caplan raced toward a set of sturdy docks. He couldn’t see the behemoth or even its shadow. But he could see Mills in the rippling, choppy water. She was swimming hard and with good form. Unfortunately, she looked exhausted. Exhausted and freezing.
Digging into his energy reserves, he thundered across the wood planks. Mills swam up to the docks. Shivering, she tried to climb out of the water. But fatigue caught up to her and she slipped back into the icy liquid.
He grabbed her hand. With one quick movement, he yanked her out of the water. The momentum drove him backward and they crashed onto the wood planks.
She rolled off onto her back, sputtering water and gasping for air. He rose to a knee and leaned over to help her. Then he saw the dark shadow, saw it moving through the navy blue water.
Saw it moving toward them.
Chapter 42
Date: December 1, 2017, 1:42 a.m.; Location: Downtown, Boston, MA
This is the day from hell, he thought. And it just keeps getting worse.
He helped Mills to her feet. She started to sag so he tossed her over his shoulder. Then he sprinted for the wharf.
Wood planks splintered, shattered. Glancing back, he saw a giant swell of water crashing into the docks. It chopped them up with ease.
He tried to run faster, but his legs felt rubbery. His saliva dried up. His lungs ran short of air.
Water roared in his ears. The splintering and shattering wood gained volume. Then fiberglass and metal began to groan, to crunch.
He snuck another glance and saw the behemoth tear through a submerged catamaran. In a matter of seconds, it would come into range. It would surge out of the water. Even if they managed to dodge its fangs, it would still come crashing down on top of them.
The behemoth slammed into a submerged passenger ferry. Then into another one. Boats began to pile up and the massive creature lost some speed.
Caplan ran out onto the viewing plaza. He kept running and didn’t stop until he’d reached Toland. Then he spun around and stared at the harbor.
The behemoth, blocked by ravaged boats, floated just beneath the surface. It stayed still for a couple of seconds. Then it started to retreat. At a leisurely pace, it made its way back into the middle of the harbor.
Caplan placed Mills on some dead grass, then collapsed next to her. His shoulders felt like they’d been stabbed multiple times. His limbs felt like spaghetti. He lay still for a minute or so, watching his breath form little clouds in front of his face. Meanwhile, shrieks, roars, howls and splashes accosted his eardrums.
He regained a little strength, then crawled to Mills. Her lips were blue and her skin felt cold to the touch. She needed fire and she needed it fast.
“Howdy, folks.”
The voice caught Caplan by surprise. Blinking, he looked up. “What …?” His teeth chattered and he rubbed his shoulders for warmth. “What are you doing here?”
“A little bit of this, a little bit of that.” Ross shot him a wily grin. “Need a hand?”
He nodded. “Definitely.”
Chapter 43
Date: December 1, 2017, 10:06 a.m.; Location: Downtown, Boston, MA
“There.” With a heave, Caplan tossed a stack of empty wood drawers into the makeshift fire pit. Sparks flew. A trail of smoke shot through the open window as the dying flames sizzled back to life. “That should keep it burning for a little longer.”
Ross, sitting comfortably in an easy chair, kicked his feet up on an old coffee table. “I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed a fire. I’ve run from a few and I have to tell you, I prefer this by a long shot.”
“You and me both.” He eased himself into a soft chair and instantly regretted it. Not because it was uncomfortable, but for the exact opposite reason. It was so nice he didn’t know how he’d ever get up again.
He shot a sideways glimpse at Mills. She sat on a sofa directly in front of the fire pit, cloaked in thick blankets. Her hands clutched a mug of steaming instant coffee, made from melted snow.
“Where’s Brian?” Ross asked.
“Still sleeping, I imagine.”
“You should consider doing the same.”
“I got four hours.” He took a moment to smooth out his shirt. Like the rest of his clothes, it had been harvested from one of the building’s many apartments. Then he draped a blanket over his legs, picked up his mug, and took a long sip of coffee. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d tasted something so hot, so delicious. “I owe you one. If you hadn’t showed up …”
“Don’t mention it. I’m just sorry we didn’t catch up to you sooner.” Ross took a draught from his mug. “A couple of days ago, we intercepted some radio traffic. The speaker said you’d been spotted with a dire wolf behemoth. But when we got there, you were gone. All that was left was your van.”
An image of the rickety, old vehicle passed through Caplan’s brain. If truth be told, he kind of missed the old clunker. It reminded him of simpler, better days. Days spent with Perkins, with Morgan.
He would’ve given anything to get those days back. But alas, that could never happen.
Ross took another drink. “Anyway there wasn’t much we could do at that point. We waited for Sydney to fix it up. Then we added it to our fleet and continued along our way.”
“You’ve still got the van?”
“Tricia and Sydney insisted. They said it contained some real valuable audio equipment, stuff that could ward off behemoths. I wasn’t about to turn that down.” He grinned. “Best decision I ever made. That van is the closest thing we’ve got to a behemoth wrecking machine.”
“It is?”
He nodded. “As soon as we turn on the infrasound weapon, they head for the hills. It’s amazing to see.”
“I bet.” Caplan added another blanket to his lap. “How’d you know we were here? More radio traffic?”
He nodded. “We were hanging around up north, waffling about where to go next. George broke off to check the traffic. He heard you were being dropped off in Boston. Literally.”
Caplan chuckled.
“Tricia insisted on helping you guys and the rest of us agreed. We drove to the outskirts and waited until we saw your parachutes. The harbor was closer so we figured we’d head there first.”
Mills set down her mug and stretched out on the sofa. Her breathing softened. Faint snores filled the room.
Caplan stared at the crackling fire for a few minutes, drinking in its warmth. There hadn’t been a lot of quiet moments since the behemoths arrived and he was enjoying this particular one.
But like all good things, it would soon end. He needed to get back to the Vallerio. He needed to rescue Morgan. And he needed to conquer Savage Station. But before he could do any of those things, he needed to recruit some help.
“You didn’t have to come here,” he said.
“Stop.”
“I mean it. I gave you—all of you—the cold shoulder for a long time.”
Ross shrugged. “You were doing what you thought best. And honestly, you had a point. If we hadn’t been so populous, those soldiers would’ve never found us.”
