The Tide: Dead Ashore (Tide Series Book 6)

by Anthony J Melchiorri

  Shepherd gasped when a branch impaled a woman seated across from him, tearing through her stomach. She wailed, clutching her abdomen, as blood seeped from the wound. Alex Li disappeared when the fuselage around him folded like an accordion. Those men and women who had been at the front of the plane were nothing but ground meat now.

  And still the plane continued plowing through the earth, ripping up trees and leaving pieces of itself—not to mention the passengers—behind.

  God only knew how long it was before the plane finally began to slow. Dust floated in the air, suspended in spears of sunlight stabbing through the broken hull of the plane. One of the engines still roared, pitching higher and higher until the snap of something breaking within it sent it screaming and then into silence. Metal creaked and groaned all around them. The odor of fresh dirt and spilled blood drifted on the air. Someone let out a howl of pain.

  Shepherd moved his fingers. He felt his toes wiggle, too. Something clogged his nose, and he wiped it away with his hand. It glistened dark and red on his gloves. Just a bloody nose then. Might be broken; he couldn’t tell. But he was alive. He looked to his left, to his right. The midshipmen, Divya, Navid, Sergeant Costas. Alive. Matsumoto, cold and shaken, was still breathing in shallow gasps.

  “Who needs help?” Shepherd called out. It was a stupid goddamned question. But what else were you supposed to say after a crash like that? He got a few stunned looks. Divya immediately went into action, checking Matsumoto over for injuries.

  “Rory!” Rachel yelled. She dug past rubble to free him. Rory looked back at her with a dazed expression. He was clutching his wrist to his chest, a break making it bend unnaturally like a second joint. Shepherd’s stomach flipped at the sight. That had to hurt.

  There were others hurt. He couldn’t see them all yet, but he could hear them moaning. A lone voice rambling in prayer.

  Then Shepherd heard something that sent tingles down his spine. Something more frightening than the plane crash.

  A single howl from a Skull rent the air. It sounded desperately close. And worse, it did not go unanswered.

  ***

  The ocean crashed against the shore. Waves frothed over rocks, pummeling the land and then withdrawing. A constant back and forth between land and sea. And though the land looked as if it would always be victorious, Kara knew that eventually those rocks would be turned to pebbles. Those cliffs would give way, sinking beneath the depths that had attacked them for eons. Stubbornness paid off.

  Maggie certainly understood that lesson. The dog pulled on the leash despite Kara’s best efforts to keep her in line.

  “Come on, Maggie,” Kara said. “You’re done. You went potty. Let’s get you back inside.”

  But the dog continued to pull, her tail wagging. The golden retriever had undoubtedly gotten used to her time off the leash. But on a busy base like Lajes Field, Kara didn’t want the dog to run around and get in people’s way. Worse, Maggie might take off to go exploring and get herself lost or stuck in some unfamiliar place. Better to keep the dog close.

  “I know you probably resent me,” Kara said, “but it’s for your own safety.”

  Maggie whined and continued dragging on the leash, barking at the shore.

  “Fine. We’ll go for a walk. But it’s got to be short, okay?”

  Who was she kidding? She could walk as long as she wanted. Ronaldo had instructed his people to give her a few chores while the Hunters were away, purely to keep her busy. She’d already finished with the cleaning duties for today.

  Maggie led Kara toward a tree. There the dog stopped, suddenly still.

  “What is it?” Kara asked. A few squat buildings dotted the hill near the tree. They looked empty, abandoned. Ever since those first few days surviving the Oni Agent, she had grown wary of spaces like those. There was no telling who or what was waiting inside.

  She shook herself. There was nothing to be afraid of here. They were on a damn island. Safe from Skull influence and surrounded by military personnel. This was about as good as it got.

  Except maybe her dad’s ship.

  Maggie barked and dug her claws into the ground as though she was going into a defensive stance. Kara stepped back. “Come on, girl. What do you see?”

  There was rustling in one of the houses. It sounded like something rooting around in the refuse of the abandoned place. The hairs on the back of Kara’s neck stood, and goose bumps prickled her flesh. A voice in her head said to go, to leave this place at once. But another voice said to investigate and see what it was. Probably nothing. But if it was a Skull, tell someone.

  She searched the ground for a makeshift weapon. A couple of branches, but those would be useless against an armored Skull. Then she spotted a rusted shovel leaning against the wall of the closest building.

  Perfect, Kara thought. She inched toward it. Maggie was growling and tense, her fur bristling. Kara grabbed the shovel, and then, moving slowly, she undid Maggie’s leash. If the worst happened, at least the dog would be able to get away.

  “Stay, girl,” Kara said.

  Whatever was making the rustling noise hadn’t noticed her yet. Holding her breath, she peeked in one of the cracked windows of the first building. It was caked in dust. No good.

  She crept toward the next window. This one was missing a pane of glass. Slowly, she stood on her tiptoes and looked inside. She saw what appeared to be an ancient office. Computers that looked much too old to connect to the internet. Chairs ripped, stuffing pouring out. A few rotting wooden tables that had already collapsed.

  The rustling sounded as if it was coming from inside this room. But there wasn’t enough light to see anything clearly.

  I could just walk away, she thought. Go back and get help. Let Ronaldo’s people handle it.

  That was probably the smart thing to do. But if it was a Skull and she didn’t do something about it, it might attack someone. She’d taken on lone Skulls before. She had a shovel. If it was holed up in here, it was probably already injured or starving, weak. She’d have plenty of time to deliver a few solid knockout blows before it even posed a danger.

  On the other hand, it could very well be someone that had been looking for safety. A resident from another part of the island. Maybe they’d camped out here instead of approaching the base for some reason.

  “Hello?” she called softly through the window. “Anyone in there?”

  She waited a few beats. Maggie looked between her and the window, still snarling.

  “Hello?” Kara tried again, this time louder. The rustling stopped. “It’s safe out here. You can—”

  Something exploded from the darkness. She fell back from the window and landed hard on her tailbone. Her fingers tightened around the shovel as she brought it up to defend herself.

  But there was no monster. Just a bunch of winged creatures flying out into the dusk.

  Bats.

  Maggie went wild, barking and jumping, trying to nab one out of the air. Adrenaline still coursed through Kara’s vessels. She wiped her brow and started laughing. Laughing at herself for being so worked up. Laughing at Maggie for trying to catch the bats. Laughing because she was safe for once and nothing was trying to kill her.

  She was safe, and things would be okay.

  The last of the bats filtered out of the house, joining the cloud of flying mammals swooping and spinning to snap up insects. Kara reattached the leash to Maggie’s collar. The dog hadn’t stopped growling.

  “That’s enough, Maggie,” Kara said. “Let’s go home.”

  Home? It wasn’t home, of course. The barracks where she was staying with Sadie was just another place to sleep. Home wasn’t back in Frederick, Maryland, anymore, either. Not since her mother had turned. Home, as best as she could tell, was on the Huntress. And the Huntress was at sea.

  She had never thought of herself as a homebody, but all this running and hiding from the Skulls had made her appreciate the luxury of getting to sleep in a familiar bed every night. Of having a p
lace where she could keep her things. Somewhere close to her family and friends where she knew they, too, would wake up the next morning.

  But that was a dream. And there was no room for dreams when you lived in a nightmare.

  She trudged through the developing darkness. The sounds of voices drifting from the rest of the base seemed far away, carried on the wind like lingering spirits. Trees whispered their prayers to the evening, and birds called, searching for mates or food as the final rays of daylight vanished. It seemed so ridiculously peaceful. A façade of serenity while the fires of hell raged all around, distant but not forgotten.

  She saw movement at the base. Flickering lights. Generators humming. As she drew closer, she noticed a man near the trees. He was staring up into the branches. His fingers twitched as if he was waiting for something.

  Kara followed his gaze to see a cat up there, looking down and meowing. It clung to the tree branch as if holding onto a life raft in the middle of the ocean.

  “Is that your cat?” Kara said.

  The man didn’t respond, reaching up toward the creature even though it was far too high.

  “Is that your cat?” Kara said again louder. “Should we call the fire station?”

  She laughed as she said it. The man cranked his head slightly but still didn’t answer. Evidently, he didn’t find it funny. Then again, he might only speak Portuguese.

  Maggie erupted into another barking fit. She bent low, snarling. All the fur on her haunches rose, and her tail went down.

  “Maggie,” Kara said. “Be nice. It’s just a kitty.”

  Then it hit Kara. Maggie wasn’t barking at the cat. She was barking at the man.

  A wave of adrenaline flooded like ice through her veins. Her hands felt light and empty with the knowledge she had left the rusted shovel back by the house with all the bats.

  She understood now. Why the man was here alone. Why he was trying to get at the cat.

  He was hungry, and his next meal had just waltzed right up to him and cracked a joke.

  -18-

  The minaret shifted beneath Andris’s feet. He looked for something to hold on to, anything to prevent him from falling the one hundred-odd meters to his death into the roiling Skull swarm at the base of the mosque.

  He wouldn’t let Meredith and Glenn die. Not after he’d led them here.

  There must be an escape.

  “Bravo,” Dom called over the comm links. “We can provide cover fire. Can you retreat into the mosque?”

  Scraping claws and roars from the door Meredith had barricaded answered the question before Andris could. The minaret shifted again. Rocks tumbled from its broken side. It leaned slightly toward Dom and the others, looming over them like a giant finger ready to squash them all like so many small insects.

  “We cannot go back inside,” Andris said.

  Dom pointed to the network of telephone and power cables stretching between the buildings. Some traced the air between the mosque and the neighboring shops and riads. But none were within reach.

  Still, it sparked an idea.

  “Meredith, do you remember our time in Boston?” Andris asked.

  “That’s a damn open-ended question.”

  “When we were trapped on top of that museum,” he said, already digging through his pack. “Do you think we can rappel again?”

  He pulled out the coiled climbing ropes.

  “I’m not sure rappelling straight into those waiting claws is the best idea,” she said.

  Skulls were still climbing toward them, oblivious to the minaret’s fate as it shuddered again. A few small stones tumbled off the side of their platform, and the body of the dead imam followed, disappearing into the mass of writhing Skulls.

  “I’m not about to jump down there,” Glenn said. He gestured to himself. “I’m a juicy man-steak. They’re going to want a piece of this.”

  Andris looked between the door and the ground. Neither were appealing options.

  “If we will not jump and we cannot go back inside,” he said, uncoiling the cord and tying it around one column holding the minaret’s roof up, “then we will fly.”

  “Now you’ve gone mad,” Meredith said. She fired at one of the climbing Skulls. Its body somersaulted through the air until it hit the ground, splattering the courtyard.

  “Trust me,” Andris said. “I am mad, but I have not gone mad.”

  Glenn glanced at Meredith. “Did that make any sense to you?”

  Meredith shrugged as Andris tied the other end of the cord around a loose stone.

  “Dom,” he said, “I want you to catch this and tie it to something. It must be very secure.”

  “Copy,” Dom said.

  Andris hurled the stone. It soared above the Skulls and into Dom’s waiting palms. As Dom tied the cord around a support beam of the riad he and the other Hunters were standing on, Andris surveyed the Skulls. He tried to see if any of them had noticed the thrown rock or the Hunters on the other roof. None seemed to have taken their eyes off the minaret.

  “Cord is secure,” Dom called back over the comms.

  The Skulls pounded on the door. The platform shook beneath their feet. More Skulls yelled from below.

  There could be no more hesitation. No more holding back. Glenn and Meredith would make it off this damned platform alive.

  “You must go,” he said.

  Glenn gave him a questioning glance. “Where, exactly?”

  “As if you are zip-lining. Slide with your rifle.”

  “You’re a crazy son of a bitch.” Glenn turned to Meredith. “You’re lighter. In case I break this shit, why don’t you go first?”

  “My weapon is otherwise occupied,” she said, gesturing to the gun blockading the door.

  “Go,” Andris said, shoving his rifle into her hands. “Go now.”

  She looked as if she was about to protest, but he gave her a look full of steel. With a deep breath, she slid the rifle above the cord and gripped both ends of it tightly. She jumped off. The cord bent with her weight, and her feet kicked wildly, but she managed to slide down its length to the other side, into the arms of the Hunters.

  “You must go next,” Andris said.

  “I’m bigger than you. Safer if you go first.”

  “No,” Andris said. “This is how it will be. You go first.”

  Glenn’s brow furrowed, but then he sighed. “I’ll see you on the other side, brother.”

  He went out over the abyss, accelerating down the cord’s length. Miguel and Spencer caught him, all three rolling backward in a heap. The minaret shifted again as more Skulls clung to its side. An eardrum-shattering roar exploded over the shrieks of the monsters.

  Andris cursed.

  Another Goliath towered over the other Skulls, swinging its fists, knocking the smaller ones out of its way. It stood at the base of the minaret and stared straight up at Andris.

  This is most certainly not good.

  The Goliath ran straight at the tower. It left a wake of crushed Skulls and crumpled bodies. Andris swiveled and grabbed Meredith’s rifle from the door to the staircase. The door shattered almost immediately, and Skulls spilled out, grasping and biting at him. He knocked the first away with a teeth-shattering blow then ran and jumped for the cord. As he got the rifle around it and started sliding, the Goliath bulldozed into the bottom of the minaret. Rock crumbled, and the tower shook. This time, it did not stop. Andris continued sliding as the face of the minaret avalanched away. Skulls that had been scaling it fell away, crushed under the falling bricks. The Goliath roared, impervious to the hail of stone, and watched Andris’s escape.

  Time slowed.

  Andris tried to focus on Dom and the others. The minaret was collapsing. And with it, the cable was growing slack. He started falling instead of sliding. He wasn’t going to make it. He kicked his legs. There was nothing but air beneath him as he dropped.

  He was going to hit the wall.

  No, no, no, Andris thought. He curled up into a ball.
Not a wall. Wooden grates covered the windows on this side of the riad. He slammed into one of those grates, smashing through wood and then glass. Splinters and shards stabbed his fatigues, cutting into his flesh, and he crashed onto a hard floor. His head bounced against the wall. His whole world spun, and dark flecks swam in his vision. He struggled to right himself and pushed off from the floor.

  His entire body hurt.

  But he was alive.

  Voices were calling his name.

  “I’m here,” he cried back, unable to keep himself from laughing through the pain. “I’m alive!”

  Meredith stormed down the stairs first. “Goddammit, Andris. You had us worried.” She stopped, drawing up short. “You look like a goddamned porcupine. You okay?”

  “I am peachy. How are the others?” He still had a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. He knew it, but he couldn’t help it. Not after what he’d just survived.

  “We’re good, but we need to get moving.”

  And then, as if to emphasize her point, the bellow of the Goliath ricocheted through the riad. Andris wasn’t smiling any longer.

  ***

  The agony in Dom’s calves grew with each loping step, and every jump doubled the pain. But all the Hunters were alive. He wouldn’t let his weakness slow them down now. Not when they had a pack of Skulls on their tail with a rampaging Goliath leading the charge. They retreated over the rooftops, past the abandoned laundry lines and satellite TV dishes, leaping over each chasm to the next roof, charging between decadent rooftop verandas and others filled with muck and slime.

  At least the Goliath couldn’t seem to lug itself up onto the roofs. It did its best to follow through the streets, pummeling larger vehicles that blocked its path and crunching over abandoned motor scooters. Skulls trailed it like a pack of hounds. Those that got too close were trampled underfoot or ended up as missiles thrown by the Goliath at the Hunters. They splattered against the stone walls of the buildings.

  “There!” Dom yelled. He took them to the east, away from the sea and the Skulls. The alleys there were narrower. He hoped to entangle the Goliath in the mazelike city; with luck, they would lose the horde of Skulls chasing them.