Mermaid Spring (Mermaid Series Book 2)

by Dan Glover

  As Nate listened a sorrow built in his heart for the tragedies these men endured at the hands of the one person who should have known better.

  "My name is Pete Sanders. I taught Internal Medicine at Cornell University. One morning I woke up to the news of a flu epidemic. I didn’t think much of it. I had my flu shot so I thought I would be immune.

  "At the University that day, however, no one showed up for my classes... not a single student. I remember thinking as I walked the six blocks to Cornell that traffic was nearly non-existent. I began feeling ill around noon. I told myself it was a touch of the flu and how the antibodies in my blood would fight it off, or maybe it was something I ate that morning that didn’t agree with me. I was wrong.

  "Two hours later I knew I was in trouble. The few people in the building were sick too, some worse than me. There were dead bodies lying in the hallways and no one had the strength to remove them. I tried calling the authorities but no one answered the emergency number. There were reports all over the news how an epidemic was sweeping New York City advising that we should stay where we were until help arrived.

  "I remember how I believed how it must have been just a little bug and if I got some sleep I would feel much better. When I lay down though all these green geometric images began flashing behind my eyes so I tried to rise. I couldn’t move. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized the severity of the situation. Up till then I figured all the epidemic nonsense was just being played up by the media.

  "I didn’t even know Micah. I knew of him. I knew he had the whole sixth floor to himself. He was some kind of eccentric genius—a mad inventor—who brought millions of dollars a year into the University's coffers. As far as I knew he never left those rooms in the eight years I spent at Cornell. Rumor had it that he suffered from some deformity and although he was a genius his body was crippled by a rare form of abnormal bone growth.

  "All of a sudden something was standing by my bedside. It looked like it once had been a man but now it was hideously deformed. Its voice sounded like finger nails grating against a blackboard. It asked me if I wanted to live. What could I say? Of course I wanted to live. I nodded my head since I was too sick to speak.

  "If I had known what that entailed I might have refused, however. This thing standing by my bedside had some kind of syringe in what used to be its hand. It said to open my mouth so I did. It injected some kind of metallic liquid down my throat. It had no real taste but it made my mouth numb. My head began spinning so I closed my eyes. I must have passed out.

  "When I woke I tried to sit up. My body felt strange, like it didn’t belong to me. My spine would no longer bend and my knees seemed to be locked so I had to sort of roll out of bed. I remember wondering why the room had become so much smaller while I was asleep. When I stood up the top of my head brushed the ceiling.

  "I had to hunch down to get through the doorway. I thought someone was playing a trick on me but I couldn’t understand why anyone would do that, what with everyone dying. I remember thinking it was strange that the sun was just coming up. When I lay down it was just past noon. I expected the sun to be setting but it kept getting lighter so I knew I must have slept all afternoon and night.

  "There was a sound in my ears, like a waterfall, maybe, or heavy rain outside the windows. The hallway was deserted and the dead bodies were gone. I wondered who carried the carcasses away if everyone was dead. When I tried to call out I found I had no voice.

  "I walked down the hallway to an open door where I stopped to look inside. Two men lay there passed out on the floor. At first I thought they were dead but as I watched I noticed their chests rising and falling. These men were both grotesque. Their heads were normal-sized but they were perched upon enormously swollen bodies.

  "Looking at those disfigured men I had the sudden realization about why the room seemed so small and why I had to hunker down to get through the doorways. Without looking into a mirror I knew I too looked just like these men lying on the floor. When I attempted to look down at my body my neck wouldn’t swivel the way it should.

  "I soon discovered all the exit doors were locked. It appeared my benefactor had no desire to associate with me or the other two men locked on that floor. I was told nothing. Mealtimes consisted of squares of a gelatinous substance that had a metallic taste and never satisfied my hunger. My two companions slept on for days, perhaps weeks... I had no real way of accounting for the presaging of what had become my life or for the passage of time. The windows were all shuttered and the lights stayed on all the time.

  "One time I awoke to find a journal lying on the floor where it had not been the prior night. With difficulty I managed to somehow pick it up, like an elephant might try to pick up a dime. On the first page I learned that the rest of humanity was dead... billions of people had died in just a few days. I thought of my wife, my children, my grandchildren. A primal scream arose inside of me but I could issue not a peep.

  "I cast the journal aside. I thought how it was only full of lies. I hated the author knowing should he appear before me at that moment how I might well strangle the life from him and break his body against the hard stone floor under my feet. It seemed as if each day another journal appeared. Every day I felt my mind seizing up to where I could no longer think straight.

  "We were kept locked up unless Micah needed us to do his grunt work. I remember the day you good people arrived. He made us carry you downstairs. At first I thought you were all dead. I was never as happy as when I realized you were still alive. I am sorry, Mr. Kirk... I dropped you. I know it must have hurt.

  "Anyway... I thought we'd only been locked in Cornell for a few months, a year, perhaps. But now you're telling me a hundred years has passed us by. It seems as if my whole life has been whisked away from me. I don’t know how to go on."

  The man hung his head to stare at the deck. His two companions were stone.

  "What I have to say to you might sound strange, Pete. The disease that ravaged the world also holds the key to immortality. How old do I look?"

  "I'd say you're in your early twenties, Mr. Nate, no more than that."

  "I'm eighty years old, Pete. My wife Lily is far older. Her kind is so long lived that they do not even count the years. Somehow, by being close to Lily, a human being's life span is greatly increased too."

  "Is that why we've suddenly changed back to our old selves? Over the last week we've been totally transformed. Micah is better too. I don’t understand why he refused to come with us."

  "I imagine he's scared, Pete. He's locked himself away his whole life. If he isn’t willing to come with us, we can't force him. I can promise you, though, that your life is in no way over. It's just beginning."

  As he watched Karen reach out to touch Pete, a noise on shore caught Nate's attention. He stood up to get a better look but it was too dark... clouds obscured any moon or stars in the sky making the whole shoreline pitch black. Pete must have sensed his consternation.

  "You should know you are in danger here, Mr. Nate. Micah not only implanted his Try-Rights inside of us but he experimented with the wildlife too. I never saw the results but I heard cries of things out there in the night that curdled my blood. I know for a fact that he trapped tigers and black bears. There's no telling what they've become."

  "Did you hear something, Mr. Nate?"

  Kirk, silent until now, stood up to shine the spotlight toward the shore. Something big was moving along the ruined skyscrapers that now served as a breakwater.

  "I'm getting spooked; I think we should weigh anchor right away, Mr. Nate."

  "Please make it so, Kirk. We'll head back down the coast to the Bahamas. Perhaps the radio may start working again and we can contact Orchardton Hall."

  "It's the power generator that Micah invented. It puts off an electro-magnetic pulse which disrupts any type of device like a radio. I bet you lost contact about the time you started sailing up the eastern seaboard, right, Mr. Nate?"

  "As a matter of fact, Pete,
we did."

  Before Kirk could make it aft to toggle the motor that drew up the anchor, the boat rocked violently to port nearly throwing Karen and Natalia into the sea. Lily grabbed them both as she steadied herself using her large feet and muscular legs.

  "What on earth is that, Pete?"

  "I imagine it might be one of Micah's monsters, Mr. Nate. I think it's climbing aboard."

  Chapter 56—Warning Signs

  "It's not going to let us out."

  Maon realized too late that reading about hurricanes and encountering one in reality were two vastly different animals. Though he was sure he could sail the Liberty out of the storm by doing just what the books told him, the wind and waves combined to push the ship back into the eye time and again.

  He spent weeks devouring every seafaring manual he could find pulling up file after file from the vast archives in Orchardton Hall. Now he wished he would have paid more attention to the signs of the sky indicating a large storm heading their way. Ena noticed it. But when she called his attention to the high clouds of ice he told her she was wrong.

  "I'm telling you, dad, there's a storm heading our way. We need to go around it even it if costs us time."

  "The Nautilus and her crew may well be in serious trouble, sweet Ena. We can't afford to waste time going around a storm that might or might not be there."

  "I read about hurricanes, dad. Those high clouds are made of ice. They're being driven up into the troposphere by a large storm system. By the time we see the thunderheads it'll be too late. We won't be able to avoid it."

  "Even if we run into a hurricane this ship can take it. The Liberty is built for ocean travel, Ena. No little storm is going to stop us."

  "I'm telling you, dad, this isn’t a little storm. The only way those clouds are being pushed that high is major hurricane-force winds driving them up. We need to skirt this storm."

  "If you're that worried, Ena, why don’t you and Amanda make sure everything is battened down tight. We wouldn’t want equipment flying around."

  The ocean was as tranquil as he'd ever seen it. Perhaps that too was a sign he should have heeded but instead it lent him an undue sense of surety. Too late he remembered reading about the calm before the storm... in fact, the saying was legendary for a reason. And he in his arrogance ignored all of it.

  The first indication of trouble was the squall line approaching from the west that morning. The spiral bands high in the sky were something Maon had never before witnessed but from all his reading he knew they were in for it. Gale-force winds hit them during the early afternoon gradually building in intensity until the waves threatened to inundate the Liberty.

  As he battled the combined might of both sea and sky he recalled other warning signs he had ignored to not only his peril but his family's as well. He had thought of Marilyn as a sort of surrogate mother... the woman often called the family bearing little gifts for him, little items she either found or made herself. One day, however, the visits stopped.

  He was too young to understand why Marilyn had attempted in insinuate herself into his good graces or the reason for her abrupt disappearance from his life. Even the day they all traveled together to the old laboratory had been one of joy at seeing the woman again... as was her wont she had presented him with a stuffed panda bear that morning which both delighted and enthralled him.

  He remembered noting the distain flowering upon his mother's face but he ignored it. She had been trying to tell him something without words the way she often did when she sensed danger but didn’t wish to overly alarm him. She had a way of communicating with pulses of energy that only he and his kind could sense.

  Marilyn had a way of making him feel exceptional. He had no idea at the time, of course, that she was grooming him for her own special reason, getting him ready to do her bidding when the time came. He thought he really was an extraordinary little boy who deserved to be showered with gifts, just as she told him.

  When she lured him into the isolation chamber at the laboratory, he went willingly into the trap when he heard her promising him his secret desire: salt. He craved it constantly but at the time he didn’t understand why, nor did his parents. Marilyn knew how he hungered after it, however, and took advantage of that knowledge.

  "I can do it, mommy."

  His mother had pleaded with father not to allow Maon to crawl through the tiny air shaft beneath the floor and he loved her for it. On the other hand, he had to do it. It was his fault they were all trapped inside the steel and plastic cell... if not for his foolery none of it would have taken place.

  It was the one time in his life that he thought he might truly die. About half way through a sharp piece of metal had snagged onto his leg keeping him from advancing any farther. Panic grabbed him when he realized he could not move either forward or backward. The thought of never getting out of that horrible coffin enraged him.

  The spider webs were bad enough. Every few feet he would run face first into thick webs that he could never be sure didn’t contain venomous spiders just waiting to sink their fangs into his succulent flesh... but the thought of actually getting wedged inside didn’t occur to him until he got hung up.

  When he finally managed to pull free a good portion of the skin on his shin stayed behind. He didn’t care. All that mattered was getting out. Whether or not he could free his parents and Dr. Karen didn’t matter either. He forgot everything except the fear pressing down upon him... of how he would remain in that air shaft until he withered into a skeleton and the spiders came for him at last.

  He had never said he was sorry... even later, when he discovered Marilyn had died he had no remorse over his actions of that day. Now, though, Maon felt like apologizing to his daughter but there was no time. Not only was the storm worse than he ever imagined, the ship was not as sea-worthy as he deemed it was back in port.

  "We're taking on water, Maon. The bilge pump isn’t keeping up."

  There was a twinge of terror in Sileas' voice that he couldn’t remember hearing before.

  "It's okay, sweetie. This ship is double-hulled. Even if we get swamped it will still float. We literally cannot sink. We'll ride the winds until they diminish."

  Maon scanned the eye wall at the same time as he glanced at the compass attempting to chart a course without really knowing what he was doing.

  "You said we need to hit the left edge of the front, right dad?"

  "That's what we're aiming for, Ena. I'm open to suggestions."

  "I think we're coming in too much to center. The wind is dragging the ship away from our intended course. Try steering hard to port."

  Maon appreciated Ena's input and he realized she may well be correct. He was aiming for a spot in the eye wall but with everything in chaos that spot kept moving. Instead of steering to a point ahead of the ship, he steered hard to port as she suggested.

  The waves went from raging to furious. He was sure they were better than thirty meters high. The sheer size forced him to gun the engines full bore as the Liberty rose and then cut back as she entered the trough so as not to swamp her.

  "We're going to sink. The inner hull is breached."

  Amanda swept into the wheelhouse drenched and panting for breath.

  "How can you tell?"

  "I was just down in the hold, Maon. There's water pouring in through a breach in both the inner and the outer hull."

  "It's probably that rotten spot we noticed during our shake-down cruise. I thought it would hold. You three better get to the skiff pronto."

  "We won't stand a chance in the skiff, Maon. Come on, girls... let's see if we can patch that hole with a tarpaulin."

  Sileas led the way back out into the howling hurricane winds while Maon made one last effort at breaking through the eye wall. If he could only keep the wheel solid to port they might make it out yet.

  As a last resort Maon began shouting into the short wave radio even though there was no answer, announcing their position and the trouble they were in.

&
nbsp; Chapter 57—Difficulties

  "You have a beautiful baby boy, sweet Ginger!"

  Lauren was more exhausted than she could ever remember being as Ginger offered her a wan smile. Her eyelids fluttered open a moment and then closed again. She lost so much blood that Lauren wasn’t sure she'd survive. Her face was white as the linen upon which she lay, her pulse nearly non-existent.

  Kāne cradled their son while sitting beside her and gazing tremulously into Ginger's eyes. His thick thoughts flowed off him like juicy sweat riling the very air around him. Lauren knew better than to lie to the man.

  Despite their best efforts Lauren feared the girl was dying.

  The baby was turned the wrong way, just as Ginger was during her birth. Lauren remembered how Karen used her hands to gently and deftly turn the infant but when she tried doing the same thing, the umbilical cord became tangled making it impossible to do.

  Instead of a head emerging from the womb, an arm dangled precariously from a protruding shoulder as if reaching for a life denied. Tugging upon it did no good. The baby was lodged tight like a knot drawn half way through an eye of a needle.

  Lauren had no experience to draw upon in this situation. She didn’t know whether to pull harder or to push the arm back inside and try again. Ginger's cries of pain did little to settle her already jangled nerves and though she hated to doubt Maon's decision to go after the Nautilus she silently cursed it.

  Of course it all went back to her lover Lily's suggestion that they sail to old America rather than make the trip to Lake Baikal. Had they gone to old Siberia, they would be back by now and Dr. Karen could practice her magical medicinal powers granted to her by decades of study and practice.

  "I need help, darling Kāne. The baby is backward. I don’t know what to do. Please go find Ginger's mother, Mindy. She may have a solution of which I am unaware."