The Myriad Resistance
Page 21
I glanced back over my shoulder before pulling the tarp over me. Derek and a couple of others from New Jersey and Pennsylvania gave me a thumbs-up. Andrews glared at me through the back window of the SUV. My stomach twisted when I considered I would have to deal with him again once this was all over. I gave an appreciative wave to my supporters, and then knelt in the bottom of the boat. I pulled the tarp tight, leaving enough of a gap to peer out and observe my surroundings. As the Impals began to slowly move forward, I could see most of the group through my opening. I saw Mrs. Fiddler bravely clutching her daughter. I saw Chief Powhatan and his Native American counterparts walking forward with pride, and I saw Nikola Tesla following the procession. I could see fear in his eyes, but I also saw a great deal of resolve.
When it seemed everything might go as planned, the high-pitched dirges of a few Impals started. I did not want to watch as some were forced under the water, not again. I closed the flap and hunkered down in the boat, trying to block out the sounds. It did not work. The pitiful screams only seemed amplified through the metal hull of the boat. I have never seen or heard anything so bizarre. The restrained Impals were joined in their ghastly chorus by the brave and frightened who still pushed forward. I wasn’t sure which ones I felt the most sorry for. I think it was extra troubling for me because I heard similar cries of horror at the mouth of the Tesla Gate.
Weren’t we saving them from the Gate? That’s what I kept telling myself.
As the Impals descended into the water, the cries became distorted and I once again heard the disturbing sound like panicked whale song. This time it was worse. It reverberated on the bottom of the boat like demonic nails scraping and clawing. I was so unnerved, I almost jumped through the tarp when the boat jerked forward as Lincoln pulled me slowly out to sea.
A sudden panic came over me as I have not experienced since I was a young boy. The ironic thing was I was in a boat then too. I took deep breaths and tried to focus as the unnerving chorus from the deep started to subside. I didn’t know why my anxiety just hit me. I guess the perfect storm of everything tonight. The cosmic storm cast an eerie ultraviolet glow across the bay, adding an extra layer of spookiness.
I knew there were no snakes in the boat with me, not around salt water. That didn’t stop my brain from telling me otherwise. I stretched my legs out a little to get more comfortable and to convince myself that I was alone. Two D cell batteries dropped out of a crate landing on my shin … I had been bitten, I knew it. I jumped, pulling my legs up close and forcing myself to take long, even breaths. I felt stupid and I felt foolish. After several long moments, I started to calm. When I regained control, I rose up and peered from under the tarp.
The water was black as the darkness under the tarp. The only light was the bridge in the distance and the ultraviolet night sky. It seemed more like a solid object than it did a light source; no … it was more like a candescent phantom.
I did wonder why we didn’t get some boats and send the Impals out or have Andrews’s brother meet us right here at the park. After seeing the patrol boats tonight and the massive number of Impals moving beneath the surf, the answer was clear. I realized what we were doing was the only viable option. I doubted the patrols would be concerned with the middle of the bay where we now headed as slowly as a funeral procession. The large flotilla it would have taken to move all the Impals could not have passed unnoticed.
As I leaned against the side of the boat, breathing hard, a noise caught my attention. It was a sound like a deep penetrating throb. It grew louder by the second. I couldn’t see anything at first, not until I shifted my position and peeked under the tarp. At first it took me a moment to register what my eyes were telling me. When it finally sunk in, all the air left my body in one big gasp of terror.
The dark outline of a massive super tanker loomed in the distance. From my perspective, it seemed as if the behemoth ship was miles long with a massive hull extending to the sky. It was on a course not quite in my direction. It headed to where I guessed Danny should be right about now. Training my gaze in that direction, I couldn’t see anything in the black gloominess. I strained my eyes and finally caught sight of a shape. I watched for several moments until the object bobbed up a few feet on a wave, passing between the bridge lights and me. There was no doubt it was Danny’s boat. Turning my attention back to the tanker, I felt like an icy hand reached inside my chest. The enormous ship was indeed on a direct course with Danny’s tiny craft. It would be there in a few short minutes.
I tried to call out, but it was no use. Nothing could be heard over the sound of the waves and the throb of the massive engines. The noise grew louder with each passing second. Danny must hear it; I was sure of that. He was much closer than I. Realizing how helpless I was, I stuck my head out from the tarp and clutched the edge of the boat with white-knuckled hands. I watched, hoping disaster would be avoided. My boat began to rock more and more violently as the massive wake fanned in my direction.
After less than a minute, I brought myself back in to center my weight in the boat. The tanker’s approaching wake threatened to capsize my tiny craft. I moved crates around, equalizing the weight, placing myself in the dead center. I pulled the tarp back halfway so I could watch for Danny when he bailed out so I could somehow manage a feeble rescue attempt.
I waited and watched, expecting to see him emerge at any second. He never did. I could see Danny’s boat now in the ambient lights from the tanker, it bobbed without mercy and the tarp remained shut.
The smell of the salty brine coupled with the exhaust fumes of the tanker filled my lungs. It reminded me that I needed to breathe. Danny’s small boat was about to be pulverized and there was not a damn thing I could do about it.
An unexpected rain began to fall, pelting the tarp like a shower of pebbles. Water ran into my eyes making it almost impossible to see through the sheeting torrents of the downpour. I pulled the tarp up over my head and watched Danny’s boat, hoping against hope. Hope was not with us tonight.
A few moments later, it happened. Even above the roar of the ship and the relentless pounding of rainfall, I heard it. The dull scraping sound of pulverizing metal and then, for an instant, I heard a scream. Even though I never heard Danny scream before, I knew what I heard. Who else could it be out here? All I could do was sit under the tarp, my heart hammering against my ribs almost in unison with the tanker’s strumming engines. As the massive ship passed, I tried everything I could to keep my small boat afloat.
I bobbed about like a cork in a wave pool, water sloshing over the sides, forcing me to bring the tarp back down for fear of my boat being swamped. After what seemed like an eternity, the massive ship finally passed, and the waves began to calm.
The rain subsided to a steady drizzle and I began to scan the water for any sign of Danny or his boat. Visibility was low and I could not see or hear any signs of life.
“Danny!” I shouted through the darkness, my voice swallowed by the immense body of water. My only response was the roll of the waves, the dissipating murmur of the tanker and the cascading sound of rain. I didn’t like the answer they were giving me.
I don’t think I have ever felt more alone than I did at that moment. I called out for Danny again. Still, no answer. I considered retrieving a small flashlight in my pocket and scanning the vicinity. I reconsidered when I saw another patrol boat searching the shore in the distance. I didn’t know if they could see my tiny light at all. It was best not to risk it.
My heart leapt into my throat when I felt the boat pull against the waves. I almost forgot the hundreds of souls in the depths below. My rope lurched with a deliberate jerk as if someone was trying to get my attention. I reached forward; grasping the rope attached to the front of the boat and gave a quick tug in response. The wet, taught nylon gave my palm a friction burn, which I didn’t notice as I waited with anticipation for what would happen next. A few moments later, I could feel the boat start to move forward. Once again, we headed for the tunnel.
The bridge leading into the tunnel grew larger as my boat chopped through the waves. I was about to start searching for Danny again when something thudded against the side of the boat. The first thought in my head was a shark. In the same instant, I heard the scrape of metal on metal. It was something else.
Peering out from under the tarp, I feared something was about to jump out at me any second. I knew how irrational it sounded, but all sorts of things run through your mind in an eerie situation such as this. As I strained my eyes in the darkness, not in my wildest nightmare could I have imagined what happened next.
A sudden wave surge brought the mysterious metallic object back for another pass. I shrieked with terror when I realized what it was and what it was trying to show me. The crumpled aluminum hull of Danny’s boat bobbed inches from my starboard side. It was as if some giant reached down and wadded it into a ball as if it was made of paper, however I don’t think that was what made me scream. I screamed because Danny, my friend and superior officer was in the boat, or at least part of him was. A single mangled hand protruded out from one of the folds in the metal. It flopped about like a morbid buoy; striking the side of my boat at random intervals like it was trying to get my attention.
My stomach lurched and I purged the remains of Martian Burgers all over the bottom of the boat. Coming up for air, I looked back at the crumpled boat. It was gone. I finally spotted the small craft pulling away into the distance, the arm flopping about as if it was waving goodbye.
“Oh my God and sweet Jesus,” I thought to myself. “They are still towing the boat.”
After one cresting wave, I could see the rope still attached to the area now unrecognizable as the front of the boat. It pulled tight and moved towards the bridge. It was quite possible the Impals were oblivious to what happened on the surface. With a hundred feet of water buffering the sound, it was possible. I couldn’t see how they hadn’t heard the noise. The God-awful screeching noise of stressed metal and the bloodcurdling scream accompanying it. I would remember the sound for the rest of my life.
Judging by the distance of the two boats, which was only about fifty yards or so, I would guess the two Impal armies were now close enough to see each other. What did I know? The water was so pitch black I didn’t know how you could see anything.
As I sat and stared at the water, a strange sensation came over me. It was like sitting in a dark room as your eyes adjust to the darkness. Things once invisible in the blackness slowly seem to materialize in indistinct form and become recognizable.
I could see fish, large ones and small ones swimming below me. I could also see clumps of seaweed drifting by in the tide.
“What the hell is that? I shouldn’t be able to see a damn thing right now.”
I thought I was hallucinating. All the stress and horror of the evening finally caused me to crack. As I sat staring into the water, the light got brighter. It was like a swimming pool light in a milky, over chlorinated pool. The light bulb in my head started to come on, brightening in unison with the light below me. I knew what it was. The Impals’ batteries were dying.
I glanced at the bridge; we were still at least a half-mile away. Then I turned my attention to the distant shore. From my current angle, I could see a patrol boat disappearing around a peninsula to the south. When I checked the shore behind me, my blood ran cold. A patrol boat just came into view and would be parallel to us in less than ten minutes.
I cursed the military, cursed my father, cursed the cosmic storm, cursed the tanker … I cursed anything and everything that might have a hand in my current situation. After that was out of my system, I began to pray. As I said a desperate prayer, I dipped my arms over the front of the boat and began to paddle at the water with furious strokes. We had to get the Impals to the tunnel. We must get them there before the patrol boat was close enough to see their collective light. I believed it would be sooner than ten minutes as the inside of the boat began to brighten, enough so that I could read the labels on the battery cases.
I paddled with desperate heaves, as I did when I drifted into the nest of snakes as a child. I did not take my eyes from the bridge. It never occurred to me that my paddling would not spur the Impals on any more quickly; however, desperation lit a fire in me. My single-minded focus pulled my attention from everything except for our destination. That is why I didn’t notice anything happening below me. I almost jumped out of my skin when I felt an icy cold hand grasp mine in the water. I shrieked and pulled back, landing on a crate of batteries and sending the contents splashing into the sloshing salt water on the floor. I wiped the misting rain out of my eyes and blinked. My heart leapt and turned to ice in the same instant. The ethereal, Impal form of Danny was climbing over and through the edge of the boat.
CHAPTER 25
THE TUNNEL
“Stop looking for the light at the end of the Tunnel and Find God in the Darkness.”
~Unknown
“Give me some batteries!” he snapped. He was calm and casual as if nothing happened.
I gaped at his glowing form as he finally climbed and passed the through the side into the boat. I should have expected this. The shock of the situation dulled my brain back to pure survival instinct. I grabbed a couple of batteries bobbing in the sloshing, salty tide on the bottom of the boat and handed them to him.
He took them and his glow immediately faded. I could see he wore military fatigues in forest camo. His rank insignia stitched on the collar and his name above his left breast pocket. He dropped the batteries in his pocket and then shook his head.
“No, I need more!” he said in a firm tone underscored by the tinny resonance of an Impal’s voice. “We’ve got to dim the light before the patrol boat gets closer!”
I started scooping batteries out of the water and then out of crates as fast as I could manage. Without looking, I handed them to Danny and turned to get more. As I tore open the lid of another crate, I wondered how the Hell he was going to carry these batteries down to the Impals. If he dropped them, they would be lost in the darkness, silt and muck of the bottom of the bay. Turning to hand him an armload of batteries, my heart sank at what I saw. Danny was pitching the batteries over the side as fast as he could get them. Before I could say anything, he stood up and walked through the side of the boat, then dropped into the water.
Sloshing my way to the side on my knees, I brought one knee down on a battery lodged perpendicular in a groove on the floor of the boat. I howled in pain. Lurching sideways, I scooted on my hip until reaching the side. There I pulled myself up and peered over the side. Danny had a large tarp stretched out on the water’s surface. Judging by the color and size, it was the one from his boat. The limbs and branches protruding from underneath were a dead giveaway as well. They also helped to keep it afloat. The tarp rocked like a large jellyfish on the pitching sea. The weight of the batteries piled in the center kept it somewhat steady.
Danny folded the four corners over the pile of batteries and then shouted in my direction.
“I’ll be back!” he said as he disappeared beneath the waves, followed by a bubbly slurping sound as the tarp submerged behind him.
I watched as Danny and the tarp went under. It now resembled a large misshapen jellyfish descending into the eerie luminescent murkiness. The luminescence seemed to be getting brighter by the second. I saw the silhouette of a couple of large fish pass beneath me. I shuddered and withdrew from the side of the boat when I recognized one of the fish as being a shark. I cautiously peered over my tarp. The patrol boat was still moving on
the same course all the others before it. How long would it be before they spotted the massive glow of the Impals and came to investigate … one minute, five minutes, ten seconds?
I had no clue. I kept my eyes trained on it, searching for any change, any course correction that might suggest they saw us.
“Why the hell was the Navy wasting this time and energy?”
It was not as if we expected an attack from a foreign enemy. Nor should we expect a flood of Impals sneaking into the country. That would be a foolish move on their part … unless forced to do so.
I knew it was a possibility. Some other countries wanted to put their metaphorical trash on our doorstep, knowing they would be put in the ultimate trash compactor. Europe was alleged to be more humane in their treatment of Impals. However, this was not the case with countries in our own hemisphere. Some of them could barely maintain their political and economic structure before the storm arrived. Their capacity was now pushed far past their respective limits. These countries would be beyond desperate.
Yes, my father would want to avoid that as much as he wanted to get rid of the ones already here. He was doing a service for America. He was doing a service for God by getting rid of these deceitful ‘demons.’ Turning the Navy into a glorified border patrol was no stretch for him. I wondered how long it would be before anxiety overtook Europe. Humanity can become scarce in the presence of desperation. Were we really doing these Impals a favor, or were we delaying the inevitable?
As I watched the patrol boat, I did not notice the water around me was starting to get darker. It was like someone lowering a dimmer switch. When the boat approached our launch site, my heart froze. They almost come to a complete stop. They aimed their spotlights deep into the parking lot of Grandview Natural Preserve. I strained my eyes to see. After several torturous moments, I breathed a sigh of relief. The trucks were all gone.