by J G Cressey
“It’s open.”
Melinda’s words would have been music to Cal’s ears were it not for the tentacle that had whipped around his neck. In a sudden burst of speed, a Kratanu had surged over its almost defeated kin and barreled into both he and Jumper with the force of a wrecking piston. They both went down hard and were smothered by the strange, transparent flesh in an instant.
Cal punched and kicked with all his might, but it was like attacking a giant sponge, each blow sinking into the opponent with little effect. Grasping the tentacle around his neck, he utilized every ounce of his boosted strength to tear it free. But within seconds, the beast twisted the appendage and wrapped it instead around his right arm. Christ it’s strong.
Cal caught a weirdly distorted view of Jumper lying next to him, straining in his attempt to direct his pistol toward the creature’s center. The weapon was almost depleted, and Jumper was doing his utmost to make the shot count but, as if aware of the danger, the beast was using two of its tentacles to prevent the effort, denying Jumper his aim.
Tucking his left leg up, Cal planted his foot against Jumper’s arm and pushed hard, hoping to god he didn’t break his friend in the process. The angle of the pistol’s muzzle gradually began to shift, straining limbs slowly winning out against the beast’s might.
Then, seeming satisfied the blast would tear through something vital, Jumper pulled the trigger. The point blank range of the shot made a quick ruin of those thin internal organs and feeling the tentacle around his arm go slack, Cal immediately pushed at the beast’s dead weight so they could crawl free.
His eyesight blurry from the creature’s briny ooze, Cal felt rather than saw the next attack. Something thumped against his side, stealing his breath and sending him spinning. Jumper’s pistol flashed again, but as Cal struggled to get his feet under him, he saw tentacles lash out and wrap around his old friend’s torso. With no time to find his breath, Cal lunged forward and tore at the tentacles. The doorway was right in front of them, still juddering but now halfway open.
Hands were reaching through.
More shouting.
Another flash of the pistol instantly followed by a spray of clear ooze.
Suddenly, Melinda was there, grabbing Jumper and hauling him through the gap. Cal tried to follow, but something thudded into his back hard enough to throw him forward into the edge of the door. He managed to twist, ricocheting off the hard surface, then made a tight, desperate scramble that sent him careening to the floor just past the threshold.
But multiple tentacles followed him through and were already gripping his legs with that ceaseless strength and drive. He grappled with the coiling flesh, digging his fingers in as violently as he could. Then, Eddy was next to him, repeatedly slamming her cybernetic fist into one of the appendages. Melinda seized a tentacle that had slithered up around his neck. Then two more blasts from Jumper’s pistol.
Finally, the beast relinquished.
“Close it, Melinda.” Cal knew she’d already be doing it, but still, he felt the overwhelming urge to bellow it out. His heart thudding, he scrambled back and rolled to his feet, feeling like a boxer caught in a fury that prevented him from staying down. Chest heaving, he wiped roughly at his eyes and peered at the doorway. It was still failing to fully close, a foot-wide gap now between the wall and its juddering edge.
“Bastard’s not getting through that,” Toker said confidently.
He was right. The beast was pressed hard against the gap and was using three of its tentacles to reach for them, but as they backed further away, that reach fell well short.
Cal glanced behind him to see another long corridor with numerous closed doors lining its left side.
“That was a bit close,” Jumper said in a calm and entirely understated manner.
His adrenaline already simmering, Cal grinned at him.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Eddy suggested.
“How’s about we just catch our breath for a moment,” Toker suggested. “It’s not getting through. There’s no chance. That gap is way too small.”
Douglas was still backing up, shaking his head. “It’ll get through; trust me. We have to move.”
As if eager to prove the big man right, the creature suddenly sent two of its tentacles lashing out in opposite directions, stretching until they found something to latch onto. It began to pull, shuddering under the effort, the strain distorting its body like a water balloon caught in the grip of an overly enthusiastic child.
“Jesus,” Toker breathed. “The bastards just don’t give up.”
Jumper took a bold step forward, raised his pistol, and managed one last shot before the weapon finally ran dry. Chunks of clear flesh and briny liquid burst from the creature’s distended form, spraying some distance into the corridor. But no sooner had the spray settled did more jelly-like flesh press up against the gap as well as another tentacle that curled through the air toward them like some monstrous worm.
“Here…quickly, damn it, over here.”
They all whipped around at the sound of the unexpected voice.
Captain Stevenson—the very same man who’d overseen their arrival at the city—was leaning through a nearby doorway, vigorously beckoning them over, his eyes wide and imploring. The fact that the new creature was already seeking something to latch onto was all the encouragement they needed to heed the man’s advice.
Chapter 9 Panic
Thankfully, the door that Stevenson was controlling closed swiftly and smoothly, sealing tight with a reassuring thump and hiss. Cal looked around to see that they’d piled into an apartment not dissimilar to Douglas’: a long space of open-plan living with thick, convex glass at its end. Here, the view showed coral towers that cut multicolored paths through shallow, sunlit waters.
As well as Stevenson, there were four other people in the apartment. Cal immediately recognized Jacobs and Peterson, the captain’s two young lackeys. Slumped on a chair, Peterson had a bloodstained bandage around his head and looked a good deal less cocky than he had at the dock. In fact, he looked nothing short of terrified. Standing behind him, Jacobs seemed just as jittery and anxious as he had earlier, but considering the situation, he looked to be faring far better than Cal would have expected.
Further into the apartment, an unconscious woman dressed in a long, glittery dress lay awkwardly on one of the large sofas. Her head was propped up on the lap of a smartly dressed elderly man who sat on the sofa’s end looking utterly exhausted. The woman was young, perhaps his daughter or maybe even his granddaughter. She had lost one of her stilettoed shoes, and the other was hanging precariously off a single toe on the other foot. A broken necklace clung to her neck, its jewels close to dropping from its severed length, their worth seeming long forgotten. The man’s suit was disheveled, his wrinkled cheeks tear-stained and eyes red raw.
Cal turned from the pair and looked back to Stevenson. “We appreciate the help.”
The captain had his back to Cal and was peering at a small security screen that showed the corridor beyond. “You’re welcome,” he said without turning. “But I fear it might have cost us dearly. The creature has made it into the corridor.” He backed away from the door just as a series of loud thumps reverberated through it. He turned to them, face pale and expression grim. “And now, it seems intent on getting into this apartment.”
“It’s no worries,” Peterson blurted. The young man jerked up from his chair, rubbed nervously at his bandaged head, then sat back down. Then, he stood again. “It can’t get through, right? Not through a door like that?” He sat back down and indicated the door with a trembling finger. “We don’t have to worry, right?”
“It’s okay, Peterson,” Stevenson assured him in a relatively calm, fatherly sort of tone. “These doors are designed to let nothing through. And this one’s functioning just fine.”
“That’s good,” Peterson said. He stood up again. “That’s good, right? That’s good to hear, right?”
Cal gave
the young man a sympathetic smile and wondered how much of his panicked state was due to the blow to the head.
“Hey, you okay, Ed?”
Cal turned to see that Toker was staring across the apartment with a puzzled frown. He followed his young friend’s gaze to see that Peterson wasn’t the only one suffering. Eddy stood in the back corner of the kitchen, her eyes wild and her small frame weirdly rigid as if she were fighting some sort of demonic possession. She had a large kitchen knife tight in her grip and was stiffly using it to gouge holes into the metal wall behind her. She was visibly trembling, and sweat was beading on her pale skin.
She glared at Toker, her delicate features scrunched up as a strange blend of anger and fear flashed in her eyes. “Shut your damn face.” She tried to shout the words, but her voice lacked its usual zeal. “What you bloody starin’ at?” she said, looking jerkily around the room. She continued to drive the knife into the wall, her Xcel-enhanced strength combined with her cybernetic arm enabling her to cause significant damage to what was likely a robust surface.
“I just wondered if you’re okay,” Toker said, his confusion evident. “You er…you’re looking like a bit of a nutter.”
Eddy shook her head, blinking repeatedly as sweat ran into her eyes. “I’m just…I’m just…shut your damn face,” she repeated.
“It’s okay, Eddy,” Cal said. “Go easy on the wall, and try to take a few deep breaths.” Christ, she’s having a full-blown panic attack, he realized. As a soldier, he’d seen it countless times. It was perhaps not your typical attack—most he’d seen would bury their head into their trembling hands or even drop to the ground to curl into a ball. But Eddy being Eddy was reacting with anger and simmering violence. Thankfully, she’d chosen the wall as her target.
How the hell could I have missed this? Cal wondered as he held out a pacifying hand toward the girl. Eddy snapped the long knife then proceed to use its broken edge to continue her excavations. Damn it. He should have seen it coming. After all they’d been through: Mars, the destruction of Earth, the battle with the Insidion invaders on C9. One of them was bound to crack, but he’d never have guessed it would be Eddy, and until now, she’d shown no other signs. Nothing…except perhaps a touch more caution in her of late. But even so, she was still far more reckless and gung-ho than most.
Finally dropping the broken knife, Eddy rubbed her hand back and forth through her black, spiky hair. “Is that guy right, Cal?” she asked. “They’re not getting in here, right?”
The barely controlled panic in Eddy’s young eyes tore at Cal’s heart. The beasts, he realized. Of course, it’s the damn beasts. They’d been through some hairy shit these past months during their search for Kaia, but not since their encounter with the Insidions on C9 had they faced anything that was keen to attack them in such a way. Despite her age, Eddy had proven she was far tougher than most. But losing an arm to a monstrous crab wasn’t the kind of thing easily brushed aside. It was an ordeal to leave a mental scar in even the hardiest of souls. And here she was, facing more creatures with the sole purpose of hunting them down and feeding.
Cal thought back to the shark. Christ. Twice in one day thanks to his damn foolishness. A mental image of her shivering on the beach quickly followed—shivering under the heat of not one but two suns. Bloody hell. He’d been a damn, blind fool. Once they were free from this mayhem, he resolved that he’d make amends for his lack of attention. He’d do whatever he could to help her. Right at this moment, however, although it pained him to do it, he forced himself to look her directly in the eye and shake his head. “I’m sorry, Eddy. I think they probably will get in.”
Despite her obvious distress, Eddy gritted her teeth, a hint of that familiar hardness trying to bully its way through the panic as she nodded an acknowledgement.
Cal looked to Douglas. “Am I right about that?”
The big man sighed, glanced at the door, then nodded. “It knows we’re in here, and unless it’s distracted by other, more easily accessible prey, it won’t stop until it gets to us.”
Peterson abruptly stood up yet again. “But the—”
“It’ll get through,” Douglas assured before the young man could get his words out. “I’m not sure how long it will take…probably not all that long. Even now, it will be preparing to secrete an acid that will gradually eat away at that door. Just like its mother did on the Dome.”
“Acid,” Peterson squawked. “What the fu—”
“It’s simply what they’re designed for,” Douglas interrupted. “Survival. A way to access food when it becomes scarce. It’s a miracle of nature if you think about—”
“Please, just shut the hell up,” Peterson requested virulently as he pressed his hands against his ears and sat back down again.
“Perhaps help will come before it gets in,” Captain Stevenson suggested. “By now, someone’s bound to have contacted the Aldular authorities and informed them of the attack.”
Douglas turned on him. “Someone with the suitable authority to be listened to?” he asked, his voice edged with bitterness.
“And how quick will they be to respond?” Cal added. “And will they respond appropriately?”
Stevenson stood with his mouth half open for a time before shaking his head. “Honestly, I really don’t know.”
“We can all hope that help is on its way,” Cal said, turning to look at each of the faces surrounding him. “But I don’t think we should stay here waiting for it. Those creatures were starting to arrive in droves back in the Dome. Soon, they’ll run out of prey and will begin swarming the corridors in greater numbers. The longer we wait, the more of them we’ll have to deal with.”
“Agreed,” Jumper said. “We shouldn’t linger.”
Appreciating the support, Cal nodded at his old friend.
“Okay,” Stevenson said in a tone that was not entirely accepting. “What actions do you suggest?”
Cal turned to Douglas. “How far to the dock?”
“We’re very close, but there’re at least three doors that I’ve no guarantee will be fully functional.”
“They are,” Stevenson said confidently. “I checked them on my rounds only this morning.”
“Then our chances are good.” Cal indicated the captain’s holstered pistol. “How much charge do you have left?”
“Fourteen percent. Unfortunately, Jacobs and Peterson depleted their sidearms back in the corridor.”
Toker nodded. “We noticed that. You definitely killed it.”
“Fourteen percent should be enough to buy us the time we need,” Cal said. “A deterrent to keep them at bay. Are you a decent shot? Experienced?”
Stevenson gave a little shrug. “I’m okay, I guess.”
“Okay might not be good enough. I suggest you let my friend Jumper do the shooting.”
Stevenson didn’t look entirely happy at that, but he nodded nonetheless.
“I assume this means you’ll be abandoning my wife and I.”
Cal turned to look at the old man who was still sat on the large sofa cradling the woman’s head. Despite the man’s stern look and the curtness of his tone, Cal got the impression that there was a very thin shell retaining a flood of panic and fear. The woman—evidently his much younger wife— was still out for the count, and the statement was clearly a plea not to be left.
“We all go, or none of us go,” Stevenson said quickly and firmly.
“But someone will have to carry her,” the man said, seeming afraid that they were overlooking the obvious. And it was obvious. As well as being elderly, the man had a small frame, probably not a great deal taller or heavier than Eddy. His young wife, on the other hand, was as buxom as they came, and even lying down, Cal could tell she was tall. Quite the odd couple, he thought—something he suspected was quite common in this city. Cal nodded at Jumper. As if having read his mind, his old friend had already pulled out the pack containing the remaining Xcel syringes.
“You can carry her yourself.”
“There’s no way,” the man said, shooting Cal a desperate look and almost choking on his reply. Already, his thin shell was cracking. “I can’t…I’ve tried, she’s—”
“You can,” Cal interrupted. “With a little help, that is.” He pointed to the neat row of syringes fastened within Jumper’s unfurled pack. “This is a stim of sorts…a strength serum. We’ve enough left for all of you.”
The old man stared at the syringes, confusion evident.
Jumper handed a dose of the Xcel to Captain Stevenson, who promptly raised an eyebrow at him. “Medication?”
Jumper shrugged with a brief smile. “A little white lie. In a few moments, you’ll be very glad you let me keep hold of it.”
“It will feel overwhelming at first,” Cal explained as Jumper handed Stevenson’s two young recruits a syringe each. “Just try to stay calm and accept it as quickly as possible. Your strength will triple, and you’ll be able to react and move a lot faster. Fast enough that we may all just get the hell out of this place alive.”
The elderly man stood up abruptly, the jewels on his wife’s broken necklace finally falling free and scattering across the hard floor. Staring at Cal, he seemed unsure whether to be confused or angry. “Have you lost your senses?”
“Trust him,” Douglas said. “The stuff is a gift from God.”
“I don’t believe in God,” the old man spat. “And I’m starting to think this is all some sort of a joke…a ludicrously sick joke?”
Christ, we really don’t have time for this. Cal shot him a hard look, causing him to flinch as he strode briskly forward. Then, the man’s eyes went wide as Cal grasped the corner of the large, metal framed sofa with one hand and raised it off the ground without so much as a grunt. “It’s no joke. Sick or otherwise.”
Chapter 10 Docks
Cal took a couple of deep breaths, his finger poised over the door control. As far as he could tell from the security cam, there were two Kratanu outside the apartment, the first hugging the door like a long lost lover.
