Mega 4: Behemoth Island

Home > Horror > Mega 4: Behemoth Island > Page 14
Mega 4: Behemoth Island Page 14

by Jake Bible


  Despite the oppressive temperature, the Teammates knew where the real threat lay. They did their best to ignore the discomfort of the heat and instead focused on the four mutants that worked casually at one of the kitchen tables, laying out various knives, checking their blades, sharpening the ones not up to snuff.

  Darren drew his eyes from the glinting metal and glanced over at Thorne. The commander looked dazed, not from the heat, but from the quickly swelling lump on the side of his head. Whatever had struck him had done a number on the man and Darren worried that Thorne might have a serious concussion. The way the older man’s eyes swam in their sockets seemed to support his fear.

  “Vincent?” Darren whispered. “Hey. Vincent. You keeping it together, frogman?”

  Thorne turned his head slowly and the fire that burned inside all SEALs showed itself. His eyes focused and narrowed.

  “I’m keeping it together, Chambers,” Thorne replied. “Don’t you worry about me.”

  “NO TALK!” one of the croanderthals yelled. “No talk!”

  “Fuck you, Lumpy Joe,” Shane spat. “My friends will fucking talk if they want to fucking talk!”

  The croanderthal growled and stalked over to Shane. He got right up close and grinned, his huge, sharp teeth only an inch from Shane’s face. His tongue darted out quickly and licked the tip of Shane’s nose then the croanderthal took a deep breath, his wide nostrils spreading even wider, become huge chasms in the mutant’s face.

  “Not ready,” the croanderthal said and the other three at the table grunted in disappointment.

  The croanderthal moved over to Thorne and sniffed, shook his head, and moved down to Lucy. Despite her body being completely naked, the mutant didn’t give her a second look. At least not with his eyes. He lowered his nose to right between her breasts and breathed deeply, moving up her chest, around her neck and then nearly jammed his wide nostrils right inside her mouth.

  “Close,” the croanderthal said. “She close.”

  The three at the table grunted with approval.

  “Keep your sniffer away from me,” Darren protested when it was his turn to be olfactorily molested.

  The croanderthal ignored him and took a long sniff up and down Darren’s body. The smell seemed to please the man-thing and he stood back quickly, his hands clenching and unclenching in anticipation.

  “He ready,” the croanderthal said to the others. “No residue.”

  “Residue is a big word,” Shane snapped. “Looks like someone has been watching Reading Rainbow.”

  The croanderthal hissed at Shane, but didn’t move to harm him. Instead, he turned and took the large chef’s knife that was offered to him by one of the others. He approached Darren, the blade before him, and smiled his sharp toothed smile.

  “Back the fuck off, asshole!” Darren shouted.

  He was about to shout again, but a hard jab by a hairy fist to his diaphragm stopped the words before he could get the breath to push them out. He gasped and struggled for breath as the croanderthal reached over him and slashed the rope holding his hands on the hook. Darren instantly collapsed to the floor, his legs and arms, nothing but pins and needles.

  Two croanderthals rushed him and grabbed him under the shoulders, lifting him to his feet like he was made of straw. They dragged him over to one of the tables and tossed him up onto the cool metal. Despite the obvious danger, Darren shivered with relief at the feel of the cool stainless steel.

  The relief left him quickly as the croanderthal with the chef’s knife appeared over him, the tip of the blade tracing an invisible pattern from his sternum down to his groin.

  “Get the fuck away from him!” Lucy yelled. “You want a piece? Come get me! What? You don’t like lady meat? Come on, you fucking faggots!”

  “I am totally telling Gunnar and Mike you said that,” Shane whispered. “That is so not PC.”

  “Shane,” Thorne growled.

  “I was kidding,” Shane said. “I know she’s just pushing buttons.”

  The croanderthals ignored the rest of Team Grendel as the teammates shouted for Darren to be left alone. The sound of their voices faded into the background. Darren focused on the hairy, heavy faces that loomed over him. And the blade that was getting closer and closer to his skin with each breath.

  “You don’t want to do this,” Darren said. “You really don’t want to do this.”

  “Yes,” the croanderthal with the blade said. “We want.”

  “Cut there,” one of the other croanderthals said, pointing at Darren’s belly.

  “No. Scars,” the croanderthal with the knife replied. “Hard cut. Tough meats. Cut out when done.”

  “Don’t go wasting my buddy now!” Shane yelled. “You cut him up, you better use all of him!”

  “Not helping!” Darren yelled.

  “Mouthy one next,” knife croanderthal growled. “Ready or not. He next. Shut him up.”

  The others nodded.

  The tip of the knife nicked the skin below Darren’s sternum, but he didn’t react. He didn’t flinch or gasp or show any sign he felt the steel cut into his skin. His eyes locked onto those of the knife croanderthal’s and stayed there as the steel slid in a millimeter at a time. The thing was obviously enjoying playing with Darren and Darren wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of showing he was being played with.

  “No scream like others,” the knife croanderthal grumbled. “No fun.”

  “No fun,” the others agreed one by one.

  Darren saw the look on the knife croanderthal’s face change and knew he was about to die. That blade was going to be thrust up under his ribcage, pierce his heart, and it would be all over from there.

  Except he was saved by the bell. Or some type of alarm.

  The croanderthals backed away from the table and looked towards the door. A red light flashed above it and they grunted and gnashed their teeth, anger and violence rippling through them.

  Darren didn’t hesitate. He knew he wasn’t at peak condition, so he drew deep and brought up as much rage as he had inside him, letting it flow through his body and fuel his actions.

  He sprang from the table, grabbed the knife croanderthal by the wrist, twisted the blade around, and jammed it between the thing’s fifth and sixth rib, making sure it was angled correctly. The croanderthal gasped, coughed blood, then collapsed to the kitchen floor, its life gone before it hit the industrial tile.

  The other croanderthals whirled around and jumped at Darren, but he had already rolled back across the table and was scrambling under it as the things came down right where he had just been. He cleared the table and pushed up onto his feet just as the croanderthals adjusted their attack, spinning about at speeds that made Darren dizzy.

  “Jesus,” Darren muttered as the things sprang once more.

  He stumbled back, his ass bumping into a second table. He heard the clatter of metal and reached back, gasping as his fingers found a wicked sharp blade. He moved down the blade, grabbed the handle, and whipped the knife forward as a croanderthal lunged at him. Darren may not have been as good with a blade as Gunnar was, but he knew his knife skills well enough to make sure he didn’t lose that one. He slashed once, twice, then threw himself over the table and rolled backwards to the other side.

  The croanderthal stood there, his belly wide open and steaming intestines pooling in its hands. The two other croanderthals shouted and yelled at the sight of their ally’s entrails. But neither made a move for Darren, their eyes focusing to the blade he held firmly in his right hand. Then their eyes moved to the couple of blades that rested on the table between them.

  They were fast, but Darren was ready.

  One reached for a sturdy-looking fillet knife, but yanked its hand back as Darren slashed it across its knuckles. The second one made its move, thinking Darren was distracted, but it howled in pain as Darren took a chunk out of its wrist.

  “If you knew the games I used to play with my best friend then you’d know you can’t win this,
” Darren sneered. “You can try, but you won’t win.”

  The first one went for the fillet knife and Darren stabbed it right through the hand, let go of his knife, and snatched up the fillet knife. A sly smile on his face, Darren shrugged at the croanderthals in an ‘I told you so’ way. There was a lot of angry growling.

  “Too bad you guys were so fixed on D!” Shane yelled. “Because now we’re free!”

  The croanderthals whipped about then roared as they saw that Shane, Thorne, and Lucy were still securely bound. They tried to turn back to Darren, but he was already up and onto the table, his fillet knife slashing out across the sides of their necks, opening their jugulars wide, sending geysers of blood spurting across the kitchen.

  For good measure, Darren stabbed each in the back, piercing their lungs. The croanderthals groaned and gurgled then dropped dead to the floor, joining the other corpses.

  “Nice one, Ditcher,” Shane cheered.

  “Really?” Darren said. “I save your asses and you still call me Ditcher?”

  “Forever and always,” Shane laughed. “Plus, I think I saved us with my quick thinking distraction there.”

  “I don’t fucking think so,” Darren said.

  “Boys, stop comparing dicks and get us out of here,” Lucy said. “Thorne has you both beat anyway.”

  “Grower, not a shower,” Shane said. “And good for you, Uncle Vinny. A man your age should be proud to still represent.”

  “Fucking shut it,” Thorne said. “Darren? Cut us down.”

  “That’s what I’m doing,” Darren said as he stepped past the bodies and hurried to Thorne.

  He sliced the ropes then made sure Thorne wouldn’t collapse before he moved to Lucy then Shane. The four of them hurried about the kitchen, naked as could be, and grabbed up whatever weapon they could find.

  Thorne and Lucy each had long knives in one hand and large pot lids in their other. They held the lids like shields and moved to the kitchen doors. Shane grabbed up a meat tenderizer. It was a good-sized mallet, flat on one side and ridged on the other. He found a heavy duty, cast iron frying pan and took that in his other hand.

  “D? You just gonna keep the fish sticker?” Shane asked.

  “Yeah,” Darren said, gripping the fillet knife tighter. “I want to have a hand free and this thing is light and fast.”

  “Just like your sex life,” Shane replied.

  “I wouldn’t talk, shrinkage,” Lucy said, nodding at Shane’s crotch.

  “I just said I was a grower not a—” Shane started, but shut up as Thorne gave him a harsh growl. He sniffed and puffed out his chest. “I got nothing to prove.”

  “Obviously,” Lucy chuckled.

  “Dammit,” Shane said. “I really need my brother here to back me up.”

  “From what Darby has said, he has nothing to worry about,” Lucy said then looked at Thorne before Shane could reply. “What’s the plan, boss?”

  “We don’t know which way is out,” Thorne said. He looked up at the flashing red light. The alarm still blared. “But I have a feeling everything in this place is heading that direction right now.”

  “That isn’t good,” Shane said.

  “Depends on what the alarm is for,” Thorne said. “Could be one of those giant monsters trying to get in.”

  “Dinosaurs, Uncle Vinny,” Shane said. “They’re called dinosaurs.”

  “Dinosaurs are extinct,” Thorne said. “I’m calling them giant monsters because that’s what they are.”

  “Whatever,” Shane replied. “I’m calling them dinosaurs.”

  “You do that,” Thorne said.

  He looked at the kitchen doors then over at Darren.

  “Go at this head on?” he asked.

  “I think it’s our only option,” Darren replied. “I doubt we’ll be able to do much stealth with this alarm going off.”

  “Head on then,” Thorne said. “I’ll take point. Lucy behind me, Shane then Darren at the rear.” He held up his knife and pointed it at Shane. “Not a word.”

  “No fun,” Shane muttered.

  Thorne nodded to each of them as they got in position. They nodded back and he shoved through the kitchen doors.

  ***

  “What the fuck?” Max snapped as alarms echoed through the jungle. Bright strobe lights flashed everywhere, but his goggles filtered out the debilitating effects they would have had on his eyes. “How’d they know we were here?”

  “Cameras,” Darby said. “They saw us coming.”

  “Cameras?” Max asked. “Since when do cavemen use cameras?”

  “Since when do cavemen do anything?” Mike responded. “I don’t think we know the rules yet.”

  “One rule,” Darby said as she stalked towards the pile of boulders that concealed the way into the Alpha facility. “Everything can die.”

  She checked the reading on the side of her plasma rifle, made sure it glowed green and was ready for action, then kicked at a spot on one of the boulders. A small panel slid open and she crouched down, her fingers flying over the number pad that was revealed. The keys flashed red then green and one of the boulders started to swing outward.

  “Override code worked,” Darby said.

  “Good to know,” Ballantine replied over the com. “That means I’ll have some control when you get inside. I like it when I have some control.”

  “I’ll have the control,” Darby replied. “Unless you want to come join us.”

  “I’m good here on the ship,” Ballantine responded.

  “That’s what I thought,” Darby replied. “Stay on the com and do not go anywhere.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Ballantine replied.

  The second there was enough room to squeeze through the opening the boulder provided, Darby moved. Then she retreated quickly, her plasma rifle barking out blasts at the opening to the facility. Max and Mike backed up, their own rifles joining Darby’s in the barking.

  Dozens of croanderthals streamed out of the opening, brandishing clubs, knives, steel rods, and blowguns. Darby dropped three before she had to turn and run. She sprinted back towards the trees, escaping the quickly filling clearing around the boulders as fast as possible. Max and Mike were right on her heels, their rifles done with the barking.

  As soon as she was in the cover of the trees, Darby turned sharply to the right and activated her suit. She shimmered for a second then was lost from sight. Mike and Max did the exact same thing, their goggles able to track Darby as she ran through the jungle, circling back around to the boulders.

  To their sides, the croanderthals crashed into the foliage, ripping through ferns and small palms, tearing after enemies they could no longer see. None of them even slowed as they roared and screeched for blood. Dozens after dozens sped past and in seconds the clearing around the boulders was empty as Darby slipped inside the facility, Max and Mike right behind her.

  The three of them froze and flattened themselves against the wall of the huge corridor they found themselves in as another two dozen croanderthals hurried past and out into the jungle. Darby waited until she was sure no more were coming then started walking down the corridor, her suit still active, her plasma rifle up and aimed at every shadow before her. She glanced back and got nods from Max and Mike. She noticed that the light outside was brightening and that dawn was approaching quickly. That would make things hard for Kinsey and the scientists since she knew the croanderthals were all heading to the beach. That seemed to be their default location.

  Hopefully, Kinsey would get the scientists into the Zodiac and off that beach ASAP. If not then there was nothing Darby could do.

  “I have eyes on Kinsey and company,” Ballantine said over the com, as if reading Darby’s mind. “They have just broken the tree line and are heading to the raft. We’ll get them taken care of and send the raft back as soon as we can.”

  Darby gave a quiet grunt as an acknowledgement, very aware of how sounds seemed to carry in the metal-walled corridor.

>   The three operators kept moving, diving further into the belly of the Alpha facility.

  ***

  The sun had started to come up and Ballantine watched as Kinsey squinted into the light that reflected off the bay as she and the doctors stepped from the safety of the jungle and out onto the open beach. Having anticipated the situation, he leaned on the railing outside the bridge, a sniper rifle steady in his hands, his eye to the powerful scope.

  “You sure you know how to use that thing?” Lake asked, leaning against the hatchway, a cup of steaming coffee in his hands. “I’d hate for you to take out our Kinsey because you’re a bit rusty.”

  “I maintain my skills just like everyone else on this ship, Captain Lake,” Ballantine replied, his eye never leaving the scope, his hands relaxed around the grip and stock of the rifle. “And to answer your question specifically, yes, I know how to use this thing.”

  “Okay,” Lake said. “I sure as hell hope so. I wouldn’t want to be you if you fuck up. Thorne will destroy your ass.”

  “That is debatable,” Ballantine chuckled. “But I plan on avoiding any reason to prove that.”

  “There,” Ingrid said from inside the bridge. “I finally have the console back up and running. We still don’t have functional engines, but at least we have active sonar and radar.”

  Lake twisted around, but stayed leaning on the hatchway, and looked over at where Ingrid stood with a heavy tool belt and several devices and tools that Lake didn’t recognize strewn across the bridge’s floor.

  “We may be a sitting duck out here, but at least we aren’t a blind sitting duck,” Lake said. “Thanks, Ingrid.”

  “No problem,” Ingrid said. She stifled a yawn with her hand which held a thick screwdriver.

  “Go get some sleep,” Lake ordered. “We’ll handle the island.”

  “Are you sure?” Ingrid asked. “Carlos wanted me back in the Toyshop as soon as I was done here.”

  “Go sleep,” Ballantine said from the railing. “Take an hour. If we need you, you will know it. If we don’t then when you wake up go tell Moshi to do the same thing.”

 

‹ Prev