The Mermaid's Revenge

by Amy Cross

  “That's where I met your mother, you know,” he says suddenly, and I freeze.

  After a moment, I turn and see that he's staring into the glass of whiskey, as if he's mesmerized by the color.

  “In Africa,” he continues. “I know I told you about some of this before but perhaps I understated my connection with her when we met. I'm not going to claim we became great friends, but I got to know her a little. We went out on safari together once or twice. Oh, now those were my happiest days. Being out there in the wild, with just a gun, stalking some of the most magnificent beasts that have ever lived. You can't imagine the adrenaline rush.”

  He takes a sip of whiskey, before wheeling himself across the room and stopping at the window, where he looks out at the growing storm. At that moment, another arc of lightning crosses the sky, followed seconds later by more thunder.

  “I want to go home,” I tell him.

  My teeth are still chattering.

  “Your mother saved my life,” he mutters, before chuckling slightly. “I was on a safari many years ago, and one of these big, beautiful beasts got the better of me. I told you before, but you'll have to forgive me. I'm an old man, and I get sentimental, and this story really matters to me. I was mauled, I was about to die. At first I was terrified, I was screaming, but at the final moment I felt at peace. I was ready to die in the most perfect way possible, in the most natural way, and then at the last moment your mother came rushing over and spooked the lion. Then, in a moment of weakness, I shot the beast. I have regretted that ever since.”

  “My mother saved you?” I reply, shocked by the idea.

  “She had this rather trivial, safe view of Africa,” he continues. “She was more into the art and the music. The commercialized version of the place. She was scared of the savagery, whereas I have always been fascinated by the ferocity of the natural world. And ever since I woke up in the hospital and found that I'd lost the use of my legs, I've been obsessed with one thought.” He reaches past one of the chairs, and a moment later I'm shocked to see him settle a rifle across his lap. “I want to undo my mistake. I want to get back to that moment where a magnificent beast was about to end my life. But it cannot be a simple surrender. I cannot go by suicide. There must be a fight involved.”

  I take a step back.

  “I saw my brother die once,” he explains, turning his chair and starting to wheel himself toward me. “I saw him gasping for breath in a hospital bed. He basically suffocated on his own phlegm. I don't want that. I want to die the old-fashioned way. The honorable way. The noble way. And what better way to ensure that, than to face nature's finest? I used to think the finest meant a lion, but then I heard about the mermaids and I knew immediately that I wanted one of them to be my final test.”

  He wheels himself past me, heading over to a cabinet on the wall. Stopping, he takes a key from his pocket and unlocks the cabinet's door.

  “Something about this night feels different, don't you think?” he asks.

  “Do you hear her?” I reply.

  “Hear who?”

  “Her voice,” I continue. “Do you hear her voice?”

  “I have no idea what you're talking about,” he mutters, furrowing his brow. “Whose voice?”

  I hesitate, before realizing that maybe that's something I should keep to myself for now.

  “Never mind,” I say under my breath.

  “She won't be able to resist this,” he continues, and then he opens the door.

  Gasping, I see a large glass vial filled with small, floating orangey-red blobs. I immediately know where I've seen them before, and I step back as I see a rush of horror.

  “They were extracted from her before she came here,” Mr. Flemyng explains. “Eggs, scraped from some part of her body. I've been assured that they're still -”

  “I know what they are,” I tell him, although I hate seeing the vial in his hands. “You can't keep them. They're not yours. You have to give them back to her!”

  “She'll have to come and get them,” he purrs. “Your Doctor Collier was most careful, after removing them, to ensure that they were stored in an appropriate solution. There are two hundred and seventy-five eggs in this container, and I am quite certain that the mermaid will stop at nothing to get them back. After all, they are her children, so I'm sure they'll be the most perfect bait.”

  After locking the door and putting the key back into his pocket, he turns the chair around and smiles at me.

  “Parents will do anything for their children, won't they?” he continues. “Even -”

  Suddenly the lights go out, plunging us into darkness.

  Gasping, I take another step back, quickly bumping into one of the sofas.

  “Could that be her?” Mr. Flemyng asks, his voice filled with anticipation. “Is she really that clever? Is she that fast? It's only been a few weeks since you both arrived.”

  “What do you mean?” I stammer, trying not to sound too scared. “How could -”

  Before I can finish, some of the lights come back on, but only along strips that run around the tops and bottoms of the walls.

  “The emergency power system has kicked in,” Mr. Flemyng says, wheeling himself forward a little. “That means something catastrophic must have happened to the primary system. There are so many fail-safes, that's almost impossible unless...”

  I wait for him to finish. A moment later I hear another rumble of thunder outside, and I turn to look across the dimly-lit lounge. For some reason, I'm starting to worry that there might be something watching us.

  “Mine,” a voice whispers suddenly. “Give them back to me.”

  Startled, I turn and look the other way, but I still don't see anyone.

  “What is it?” Mr. Flemyng asks, looking the same way. “Did you hear something, girl? Tell me!”

  “She's silent,” I whisper.

  “Who is? What are you talking about?”

  I turn to him, and I can see the fear in his eyes.

  “She's been threatening me,” I tell him, as I feel a fissure of slow, cold terror starting to uncurl in my chest. “For weeks now, she's been in my head, but now she's stopped. That can only mean she...”

  My voice trails off as I realize there's only one possibility.

  “I must check!” Mr. Flemyng says suddenly, wheeling himself past me and heading out through the nearest door. “If I'm right, she's made her move much faster than I ever expected! Is she really that clever?”

  “Wait!” I call out, terrified in case he leaves me alone. “Come back!”

  I don't want to go with him, but I also don't want to stay here in the lounge, so finally I hurry after him. Despite his age, he's managing to push his wheels faster and faster, and I actually have to run to catch up to him. He's already at the far end of the corridor, and as I catch him he's pressing a panel on the wall. A door slides open, and I follow him through into the huge room I saw earlier. The water tank is up ahead, but I stop as soon as I see that something's different.

  The water is completely cloudy, making it impossible to see anything except a wall of grainy dark blue.

  “What's she done?” Mr. Flemyng calls out, wheeling himself over to the control terminal. “What has that clever thing been up to?”

  He taps at the computer, scrolling through various screens.

  “It's something to do with the filtration system,” he mutters. “She's caused all the filtered material to get emptied from the filter housing, back into the tank. Is she insane? All she's going to achieve if she does that... She'll kill herself!”

  “She wouldn't do that,” I tell him. “She wouldn't just give up on her eggs!”

  He taps at the computer again, and a moment later I hear a loud rumbling sound coming from the pipes.

  “I've got no choice,” Mr. Flemyng explains. “I have to drain it before she dies!”

  As the tank's water level starts coming down, I hurry over to the glass. Once I'm closer, I'm finally able to make out the faintest shape ah
ead, and I realize I can just about make out the mermaid. She doesn't seem to be moving at all. Instead, she's at the bottom of the tank, slumped slightly and seemingly waiting for the water to drain. My heart is racing, but somehow deep down I know that she can't be dead. After all, I heard her voice in my head just a few minutes ago – or at least, I think it was her voice – and she didn't sound like she was dying.

  “What the hell has she done?” Mr. Flemyng snaps. “I don't understand what she thinks she's playing at!”

  “Please don't be dead,” I whisper, still convinced that this can't be as bad as it looks. “Please don't be dead, please don't be dead, please don't have abandoned your -”

  Suddenly the water level drops low enough for me to see her face, and I'm startled by the sight of her dark, empty eye sockets. The water level continues to go down, and now I see that her entire body is crumpled on the floor of the tank. Even her large fishy tail – which once looked so magnificent – has lost much of its beautiful color and is simply laid out along the bottom of the tank. As the water level finally gets down to zero, her shoulder gives way and she slumps lifeless to the floor.

  “No, that's not what's supposed to happen,” Mr. Flemyng stammers, as he wheels himself closer. “It doesn't make any sense! She can't be dead! I won't be denied!”

  I open my mouth to scream, but at the very last moment I realize that I can see through one of her empty eye sockets, and that there seems to be a torn gap on the back of her head. I hurry around the tank a little, and now I can see that the entire back of her body has been ripped open, leaving chunks of flesh hanging from the ragged wound.

  Mr. Flemyng comes around to join me, and we stand in silence for a moment.

  “She's shed her skin,” he says finally, his voice filled with a sense of awe. “That clever, clever thing. She's shed her skin like a snake and left the tank and -”

  And then, before he can finish, the emergency lights go off and we're plunged into darkness.

  Chapter Forty-One

  “Stay close to me, girl!” Mr. Flemyng hisses as he drags me across the pitch-black room. “If you hear anything, tell me immediately!”

  A moment later I spot a light on his lap, and he holds up a mobile phone. As he swings the screen around, I turn and look for any sign of the mermaid, but I don't see her. I don't even know what I'm really looking for, since I can't even begin to imagine what she looks like now that she's slipped out of her skin. From what I could see just now, she's shed not only the skin of her top half but also most of the meat of her tail. As I try to imagine what that could look like, I think back to the sight of the fish-man's body on Doctor Collier's slab, and I remember the tucked, bony legs that he pulled out from the corpse's tail.

  She might be able to walk.

  I don't know how that would even work, but she might actually be able to walk on those things.

  “She's magnificent,” Mr. Flemyng says, finally pulling me out into the corridor. At least here there's a little more light from the window, and a moment later a flash of lightning briefly allows me to see the empty corridor stretching ahead. “I knew she was intelligent. She had to be. But this is something else entirely.”

  “She was playing with the vent in the old tank,” I whisper, thinking back to the night I crept down. “She must have been planning to escape, even back then.”

  “This is exactly what I wanted!” Mr. Flemyng continues, as he checks his rifle. “The ultimate hunt. I have two shots in here, girl. That's all I'm allowing myself. After that, I get the unique privilege of being killed by one of nature's most stunning creations.”

  “You have to give her the eggs!” I tell him, filled with panic. “Give me the key! I'll give them to her!”

  “She'll get her eggs!” he snaps. “They're just the lure! The bait! Once she's killed me, I don't care what happens to her. I don't care what happens to anyone.” He turns to me, his face bathed in the light from the mobile phone. “I'm sorry, child, but I didn't mean it when I said I'd find a cure for you. It's just that when Mike Randall turned up with you, I realized I wanted a witness. I want you to see me die, so you can tell the world! It's somewhat fitting that you should be the witness, since it was your mother who denied me the first time.”

  Shaking my head, I try to pull away, but he holds me tight with hand while using the other to turn his chair. All I can think is that I have to get that key and then somehow save the mermaid's eggs. Even if that's not enough for her to spare me, I can make sure that the eggs survive. Right now, I'm not sure I trust Mr. Flemyng to let them survive. He's already lied to me so much.

  “I've been waiting,” he stammers, and it sounds like he's starting to cry. “All these years, I've been waiting for a proper death! For the death that eluded me when -”

  Suddenly he stops speaking, and we both listen to a faint bumping sound that's coming from the lounge area. A rumble of thunder obscures the sound for a moment, but then we hear it again and somehow I immediately know what's happening.

  She's in there, and she's trying to open the cupboard so she can get to her eggs.

  “The single-minded beauty of nature,” Mr. Flemyng whispers. “She's like a mother bear, willing to do anything and everything to save her children. It will be an honor to die at the hands of such a creature.” He holds the rifle up. “First, though, I must honor her by putting up a fight. Make sure you tell people, girl, that Jason Flemyng did not commit suicide. Let them all know that I went out with my guns blazing!”

  “No, please,” I whisper, taking a step back, “I don't want to see this!”

  “Grow up, child!” he snaps. “You're ten years old, for Christ's sake!”

  “No, I don't want to see!”

  I try to pull free of his grip, but he's holding me far too tight and after a moment he starts dragging me along the corridor, toward the open door ahead. I can still hear the cupboard door shaking, but I start whimpering as we get closer and closer.

  “Please!” I sob. “I don't want to see! I don't want -”

  “Move!”

  Suddenly he grabs me by the waist and shoves me forward, sending me stumbling through the doorway and into the lounge. I trip against the leg of a chair, and as I fall to the ground I let out a startled gasp. I can't see anything in here, other than the dark clouds beyond the windows, but I immediately get to my feet and turn to look toward where I know the cupboard should be. And it's at that moment that I realize the door is no long shuddering.

  She's stopped.

  “Where is she?” Mr. Flemyng shouts, wheeling himself in while waving his phone around, casting lights all around the room. “I want to see the whites of her eyes! Or whatever damn color they are!”

  He sounds breathless and scared, but also excited.

  I back against the window.

  “Can you hear me?” he calls out. “I don't know what your name is, I don't even know if you understand English, but my name is Jason Scott Alexander Flemyng and I have brought you to my home. I want you to know that I am in awe of your magnificence, and that it is the highest honor for me to be here with you tonight! I want to see you, I want to know what you are before I meet my end at your hands. I'm not scared of pain. I just want to see you in all your magnificence before I die! Before I go into the light!”

  “Give them to me,” her voice whispers in my head, slithering between my own thoughts, “or I'll tear you both to pieces and then I'll break them out myself.”

  “No!” I shout, crouching down and then crawling into the darkest corner. Pressed against the window, as rain crashes down against the glass, I look out across the dark room and see only Mr. Flemyng's mobile phone still casting patches of light all around. “Please don't hurt me!”

  “Give them to me,” the voice whispers again, “and I might let you both die without too much pain.”

  “I know about your barbs!” Mr. Flemyng calls out. “Why haven't you used one of them yet? Are you out, perhaps? Does it take time for you to grow more? The key i
s in my pocket, you can take it out once I'm dead and -”

  “Give it to me!” I yell, rushing at him and trying to reach his pocket. “Let -”

  Suddenly he turns and fires his gun, blasting a hole in the wall. I scream and squeeze my eyes tight shut and put my hands over my ears, and then I wait a moment before slowly lowering my hands and looking across the room again.

  “One shot down,” Mr. Flemyng says cautiously, “and one to go. You'll forgive me for fighting back, I hope. It's just part of the fun.”

  “This is your last warning,” the voice whispers. “Give them to me.”

  “Give me the key!” I tell him, sobbing as I try again to reach Mr. Flemyng's pocket. “You have to stop this! There's no -”

  Suddenly he turns and aims the gun again. I flinch, but this time he doesn't fire. Instead, I can just about see him turning the gun slowly, as if he's tracking something that's moving in the darker side of the room. I can't see or hear anything over there, but after a moment I realize that I'm holding my breath again. And then, just as I take a shallow breath, I hear a faint click just a few feet away. Reaching into Mr. Flemyng's pocket, I manage to grab the key and -

  The gun fires, shattering the window right next to me and showering me with glass.

  I scream and fall forward, and then I cry out as I feel a sharp pain in my right hand. Wind and rain are blasting through the broken window now, buffeting me and almost knocking me into the side of a sofa, but when I hold my hand up I see that I landed on a large shard of glass, which is now embedded in my palm with its sharper end poking out between two of my knuckles. Blood is dribbling down toward my wrist, although the wind and rain are already blowing that blood to the side. As I stare at my hands, however, I realize that I dropped the key.

  “Where the hell are you?” Mr. Flemyng yells, and I turn to see him wheeling himself toward the center of the room. “I want to see your goddamn face!”

  He reaches into his pocket and takes something out, and then I see him starting to reload his gun.

  Panicking, I start crawling around in the darkness, fumbling for the key that has to be here somewhere.