The Tide: Breakwater (Tide Series Book 2)

by Melchiorri, Anthony J

  It was all meaningless now. None of those words or numbers mattered. Only Abby did.

  “Geraldo, you’re leading,” James said, pressing a hand against the door.

  “Me? You’ve got the weapon.”

  James shrugged. “I’m an old man. You’re faster.”

  Geraldo shook his head but took point anyway.

  Navid knew what he was thinking, and James didn’t even try to make his lie sound convincing. When James wanted to run, he could—and had. He’d left the group behind, and he’d do it again if it meant saving his own ass.

  James pushed the door, and it flew open with a smack. Geraldo rushed into the stairwell and began pounding up the steps. James followed, not bothering to hold the door open for Navid and Abby.

  Navid threw his shoulder into it. “Come on, Abby. We got this.”

  Abby’s head bobbed, but her eyelids fluttered as if she was ready to fall asleep standing.

  “Stay with me!” Navid pushed up the stairs, his muscles burning, still not recovered from their previous flight from the crazies.

  The footsteps from James and Geraldo echoed overhead. They were already a full floor above Navid and Abby.

  “Three more to go,” Geraldo called down. “Come on, guys!”

  Three more floors. Navid gasped for breath. He was practically dragging Abby up the stairs. He wasn’t sure if he could—

  Abby went limp in his arms. Navid tried to catch her, but she slipped from his grip and crumpled down the stairs. Her body slammed onto the landing.

  “Help!” Navid said.

  “No, don’t!” James’s voice answered.

  But Navid could hear footsteps coming down. He rushed to Abby’s side and picked her up. Warm blood dripped from her scalp onto his fingers.

  “Abby, Abby, can you hear me?”

  Her head rolled to the side and her mouth moved, but no words came out.

  “Come on, Abby.”

  The footsteps from upstairs grew closer. “Navid, she okay? You okay?”

  But Geraldo’s voice wasn’t the only one now echoing in the stairwell. Below them the cries of the crazies sounded once more. A shudder tore down Navid’s spine. Their nightmare wasn’t over.

  “Come on, let’s get her up.” Geraldo bent down and wrapped an arm around Abby. He still managed both paint cans. “Let’s move!”

  With the load lightened, Navid continued up once more. Abby’s head lolled, and she started murmuring. Navid couldn’t hear her words over the growing cacophony below.

  A brief flash of white light above caught Navid’s eyes. The sun. He watched James’s silhouette flit out to the roof. The door closed behind him.

  Two more floors. Navid huffed. His lungs strained for air. Geraldo’s face was turning red with the effort. The custodian appeared as out of shape as Navid. Maybe worse. But the man hadn’t for a second hesitated in helping Navid and Abby.

  “Thanks,” Navid said between breaths.

  Geraldo looked at him as they moved up another set of stairs. “Ain’t got anything to thank me for yet. We ain’t”—he wheezed—“we ain’t clear of ‘em.”

  The crazies’ bellows grew louder. The click and scratch of their claws on the stairs and walls added to the relentless din. Navid’s heart thumped, his pulse racing from a combination of fear and physical exertion.

  “Come on, come on,” Geraldo said. “We’re almost there...almost...”

  An inhuman shriek called out from behind. Navid turned. A crazy with flame-red hair streaming behind it jumped with outstretched hands. Its crooked, clawed fingers sliced through the air, and Geraldo pivoted in time to swing one of the paint cans at the crazy’s head. Two more climbed over its body and charged forward. They screamed, their pale tongues whipping between yellowed, fanged teeth.

  “You go!” Geraldo said, letting Navid bear Abby’s full weight.

  Navid stopped and pulled out his sledgehammer while still holding onto Abby. He couldn’t let Geraldo take these monsters alone.

  “No! Go!” Geraldo clenched his jaw. Dried blood still traced his bottom lip from the blow James had delivered back in the lab. “Go!”

  Navid nodded and started up the stairs. He heard the smack of the paint can against another crazy’s head, but he didn’t dare turn back. He was too close, too close to the door, too close to getting Abby to safety. The growl of another monster sounded, followed by a scream of agony that sounded all too human.

  Navid didn’t look back. He ran up the last stairs and shoved open the door to daylight.

  James stood before him, ax at the ready. “Good, good, just you and the girl. None of those beasts. Where the hell is Geraldo with the paint?”

  Navid set Abby down and fell to his knees. His pulse still pounded in his ears as he recovered his breath. “Down...down there.”

  “Down there? Still? With those things?” James paced, appearing almost as crazy as the monsters. “You got to go back there, get the paint. Without it, how the hell do we signal a chopper or plane or satellite or drone? Huh?”

  The old professor’s eyes were wide. He made an imploring gesture, the ax precariously balanced in his right hand.

  “You go...you go get Geraldo,” Navid managed.

  “Me?” James’s bushy eyebrows lifted as he scowled. “Not a chance.” He raised the ax above Abby. “You. Go.”

  “No, don’t.” Navid’s heart stopped, his blood running cold. They’d made it this far and finally had a chance to flag down some elusive rescue squad that might or might not exist. And James was going to cut down his hopes right here. “Please.”

  “Then go!”

  Navid pulled his sledgehammer from his belt. He wielded it in both hands and wondered if maybe he shouldn’t end James’s life first.

  The old man’s eyes narrowed as if he could tell what Navid was thinking. “You make one step toward me and she’s gone. Now go. Go get the paint.”

  Navid tore open the door. His vision swam, muddled by rage and exhaustion, as he ran down the stairs where he’d left Geraldo. He saw two crazies huddled over the stairs, digging at something. Geraldo. The custodian was sprawled out on the stairs, and the monsters were attacking him.

  One plunged its hand into Geraldo’s stomach and tore the skin back. The glistening red of Geraldo’s innards shone in the dim emergency lights. The crazy abruptly flew backward. Geraldo’s arm had shot out once more, shoving the beast. He swung a paint can at the other, but missed.

  Navid reached Geraldo and slammed the sledgehammer into the attacker’s head. It connected with a sickening thud. The creature staggered but recovered. Its lips drew back in a snarl. Navid smashed the hammer into the creature’s face. Its teeth cracked, and blood poured from its glistening lips. He swung again and again, until the creature’s skull caved in and it fell.

  “Come on, Geraldo. We’ve got to go.” Navid hated saying the words as he watched the life ebb out of Geraldo’s body. He knew the man would never make it; there was no use in even pretending. But he had sacrificed himself to save them. How could he abandon him, even in these last moments? He wished it was James dying in a pool of blood.

  “Move, kid. You gotta go.” Geraldo held up a paint can.

  Navid took it reluctantly.

  More of the crazies’ wails sounded. Another cornered the landing, followed by a second, a third, and a fourth. The group snarled and growled, their muscles tensing under their skeletal plated bodies.

  Geraldo gripped the handrail with one hand and pulled himself upright. His legs shook as he stood, and blood poured from the wound in his abdomen. A visceral yell escaped his lips, and he threw himself at the crazies.

  Navid sprinted up the stairs. The sounds of ripping and chewing and screaming chased him. He burst back through the heavy metal door and onto the roof. James grabbed the door before it closed and clicked the internal lock so it was secured from the inside when he slammed it shut.

  “Those things aren’t smart enough to unlock it,” James said. “Door sh
ould be strong enough to hold them.”

  “And...and what do we do? How do we get back in?”

  James nodded toward the paint can. “Better hope help arrives soon.”

  Navid set the paint can down and gazed across the flat roof. Two other square structures dotted the otherwise flat, gravelly space. A pit formed in his stomach. “Where’s Abby? What’d you do to her?”

  A chortle escaped James’s lips. “God, boy, how cruel do you think I am?” He pointed to one of the structures with a metal door. “She’s behind that one. She was complaining about the sun being too hot and bright or something. Couldn’t get her ass up, so I dragged her over there.”

  Navid glared at the old man.

  “You could at least say thank you. She certainly didn’t.”

  A cool breeze rustled over them. James soaked it up for a second, closing his eyes and stretching.

  “God, fresh air. No more smell of death.” He opened his eyes again. “Geraldo didn’t make it, did he?”

  Navid shook his head and dropped the paint can. He lowered his head. “No, no he didn’t.” Remorse flowed through him, and he wondered how he’d ever be able to honor the man’s memory. But now he had a more pressing concern. He ran to Abby.

  He found her lying against the brick wall in the shade. At least James had shown a modicum of humanity was buried somewhere in his rock-hard soul. Navid kneeled by Abby’s side and combed the hair out of her eyes with his hand. He used the other to caress her forearm near the injury. The skin appeared puffier, redder than before, and the yellow scabs were more prominent. He noticed her nails were growing tawny and long. His bottom lip quivered.

  Footsteps crunched behind him. “See, she’s okay.” James put a hand on Navid’s shoulder. The gesture felt strange coming from him. “She’s going to need help, isn’t she? Looks like she’s sick. Hurt more than her ankle, huh?”

  “Uh, yes,” Navid said. “Maybe...maybe all the stress is killing her immune system. Or maybe it was a chemical in the lab explosion.”

  “Explosion?”

  “You know, it was how we escaped those monsters and came to you...and Geraldo...and Sandra.”

  “Uh-huh,” James said. “Right, right. Well, she’s not getting any better, so it’s in her best interest to get that SOS painted and get some attention, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Navid didn’t trust James’s compassion, but the man was right. They needed to get Abby help—probably more help than James realized. He stood and walked back to the more open area on the roof.

  James followed. “Let’s get to it. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.” He bent to pick up the paint can, but stopped, groaning, and held his lower back. “I’m not sure I’ve got it in me, kid. Can’t bend down like you.”

  Navid shot him a distrustful look but started painting the first S on the roof. It needed to get done whether James was going to help or not. He ensured the S was plenty big enough to be seen overhead and moved to begin the O. James unscrewed a cap on a water bottle, took a sip, then deposited it back in his backpack.

  “Can I have some?” Navid asked.

  “When you’re done,” James said.

  Navid glared. He hated feeling used, but arguing with James wouldn’t get the task at hand finished any faster. His thoughts turned to Abby as he painted. He reassured himself that the sooner he got this SOS up, the sooner a chopper would see them, and the sooner they’d be off this roof and away from James. A gust of wind rustled over his back, providing a brief respite from the heat of the sun. It tickled his neck. The cries of crazies sounded from the city streets below like the distant howls of wolves hunting unseen in the forest.

  A crick formed in his back from hunching over. He stood and stretched before moving on to the last S.

  “Almost there,” James said. He placed a hand above his brow to shield his eyes from the sun. “Haven’t seen a damn chopper since we’ve been up here, much less a plane or something.”

  “Yeah,” Navid said. “I remember hearing more when the outbreak first happened, but it’s been a while.” He thought of the pallor taking over Abby’s face. “I hope they haven’t abandoned the rescue efforts.”

  “You got that right, kid.”

  Navid’s back ached as he bent, painting the last S. The three letters stretched across the massive roof of the hospital, and he figured they were big enough they could damn well be seen from space. Maybe that was an exaggeration, but he half hoped it was true. As James had observed, they hadn’t heard or seen any signs of aircraft in the past few hours. Maybe the government had given up on Boston. Maybe he’d die up here, alone with Abby and James.

  He finished the last brush stroke on the S. The paint can was almost dry, and he felt fortunate he’d rationed it out just right. He stretched his arms out and cracked his neck.

  “It’s done,” he said.

  No response from James.

  He looked to where James had been sitting, but the man was gone. A sick feeling grabbed at Navid, and he rushed around the structure where Abby had been earlier. His heart caught in his throat when he saw James standing over her with the ax raised.

  -36-

  The rotor wash beat around Dom. He watched the Goliath readjust its grip on the chopper. The smaller Skulls let out wails to rival the noise from the AW109’s engines.

  Dom fired at the smaller Skulls. Their heads blew back, flesh spraying from the exit wounds. Their corpses plummeted to the earth, where the chopper would soon be if Dom didn’t do something about the Goliath. He shot at the giant beast, but it lowered its head, presenting only the thick, knotting horns. It pulled itself up, clung to the AW109 with one hand, and swung the other to ward off its attacker. Dom ducked inside, narrowly avoiding the claws. No amount of shooting or stabbing would penetrate the overgrown skeletal plates protecting the creature’s malformed head.

  Not even his last, desperate shots into the creature’s face seemed to perturb the Goliath. Now the beast appeared intelligent enough to shield its face entirely to prevent an easy kill. But Dom knew one way to bring the creature down. One method he’d learned aboard the Queen of the Bay. He realized how lucky he’d been to take that first Goliath down, and now he needed to employ that lesson to kill this one.

  “We’re losing altitude fast,” Frank said.

  But the pilot didn’t need to tell Dom. He could see the ground rising up, along with the hungry Skulls waiting below. He dropped his rifle in the cabin, near where the others were strapped in. He grabbed a rescue harness, cinched it in place, then attached it to the chopper’s pulley system.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Miguel asked, unbuckling and rising from his seat.

  Jenna unbuckled and joined Dom at the entrance. She unloaded a magazine on the Goliath. Instead of fighting her off, it dug both claws deeper into the fuselage and shook back and forth. The AW109 listed dangerously. Jenna started to fall, and Spencer grabbed her to prevent her from tumbling out.

  “Careful, you fools!” Andris yelled.

  “Shit!” Frank said. “Someone needs to do something about this fucker!”

  “I’m not letting this bird go down.” Dom pulled his blade from his thigh sheath and took a deep breath. The Goliath swiped at him again, and he ducked under the blow. The massive fist scraped against the open chopper door and left a series of claw marks in the paint.

  Dom jumped from the fuselage and landed on the creature’s shoulder. The Goliath shook, and for a second Dom hoped the beast would let go and drop to the ground. The Goliath would fall while the rescue harness and cable held Dom in the air.

  But he had no such luck. The Goliath kept one claw firmly embedded in the chopper as it thrashed. Spencer fired directly at the beast’s hand in an attempt to loosen its grip. Chips of the monster’s armor flew, but it still didn’t release. Pain and physical trauma seemed to be no obstacle to this raging creature.

  “Come on, fucker!” Spencer withdrew a knife and stabbed it downward into the creature’s han
d, but the blade glanced off the beast’s plating.

  Dom held tight to the Goliath’s neck but was careful not to let any of the creature’s skeletal growths pierce his skin. He pressed one of his boots against the wing-like shoulder blades to brace himself.

  The Goliath let out a frustrated howl and pivoted, trying to knock Dom off its back. The chopper tilted with the creature’s movement. Dom could still hear the alarms going off from the AW109’s emergency system.

  Miguel and Jenna hovered near the open door, ready to lend a hand, but the expressions on their faces showed they weren’t sure how they could help. He was alone in taking down this tremendous monster. The beast shook again, and Dom lost his grip. He fell several yards before the cable caught and the harness dug into his sides and legs.

  “Chief!” Miguel activated the winch, and the cable pulled Dom upward.

  With his knife, Spencer sawed at the creature’s hand still gripping the fuselage. “Come on, come on, come on!”

  Andris joined him, desperately hacking away at the monster’s claws.

  The Goliath turned its head and licked its cracked lips. It kicked out, and Dom did his best to dodge the attacks. But with nothing to push off against or to hold on to, he had limited mobility.

  One of the creature’s feet connected with his chest. It knocked the air out of him, and deep pangs of agony coursed up his side. His sides screamed in pain as he gasped for air. No stranger to injuries, he could tell he’d broken at least one rib.

  “Chief, you okay?” Miguel’s voice rang out in his ear through the comm link.

  Dom flashed him a thumbs up with his free hand. “Let me finish that bastard!”

  “You got it.” Miguel moved back into the fuselage to start the winch.

  The Goliath kicked again. This time Dom grabbed the beast’s foot. He could feel one of the dagger-like toenails dig into his skin, drawing blood. That would have to be dealt with later, but for now he focused on climbing the creature’s leg. It bucked and thrashed, struggling to throw him off.