“We’re screwed,” Curt said dejectedly.
Curt watched as a commotion erupted below. A group led by Loustein, still holding the Fish, approached the base of the lighthouse and disappeared from sight.
“Mommy, I…I…I hear them coming!” Tina stuttered.
Curt looked back. Tina worriedly looked through the rail, squinting down through the middle of the lighthouse. He moved inside and heard the distinctive sound of footsteps clomping on iron. The noise echoed up the chamber and filled the lighthouse. Their only escape had been sealed.
“They’ve gotten in,” Curt said turning to Sherri.
“What do they want? They have the Fish.”
He leaned in to Sherri so Tina could not hear. “Just like I believe Shottier sent someone to kill Lila, they can’t let us live. We know too much.”
Sherri turned to Curt with a mortified look and pleaded, “Curt, please don’t let them get her. Don’t let them get my baby.”
He rushed back inside, gently moving Tina against the wall. Curt hoisted the shotgun and checked the load. He knelt and replaced the two rounds he had fired previously.
“Can you hold them all off? Are there enough bullets?” Sherri asked.
Curt looked into the open box. There were nine more shells, but that was not the problem. If what they had learned was true, these people were now invincible. Firing at them would only delay the inevitable.
Curt looked up in thought, desperately grasping for ideas to turn the tables in their favor.
He saw it.
Curt felt inside his pants pocket. They were there. “You transferred everything from the pants I was wearing in the fire to these new jeans,” he said with a slight smile.
“Yes,” she nodded her head, confused.
He handed the shotgun to Sherri. Tina was cradled against her legs.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I have an idea.”
“I hope it’s better than your last idea.”
****
Outside, the wind moaned relentlessly.
Scott was deeply concerned about Curt, Sherri, and Tina. He desperately hoped the Blue Council had not discovered them in the lighthouse. Something told him he needed to get to them.
Using the flashlight, Scott found a hammer in a back room. He returned to the showroom. It was packed with used vehicles of every ilk: SUVs, sedans, station wagons, coupes, and trucks. The owner, Lew, was using the space to protect his investments from the massive hurricane. His only problem was, being this close to the ocean, the storm surge that was already creeping up the beach would soon decimate the coast, including this building and everything in it.
He discovered the box on the far wall and wasted no time smashing it open with the hammer.
Scott had already scouted his options and had made his choice.
He grabbed number six: the keys to a jet-black 1993 Chevrolet Z28 Camaro: the perfect escape vehicle.
****
Curt whispered instructions to Sherri so Tina would not overhear. His plan sounded desperate and dangerous, but they were running out of time. The footsteps coming from below grew louder. She could hear faint voices.
He handed her the shotgun. Sherri struggled to hold it. Then, without warning, Curt leaned in and kissed her. It was short, yet strangely satisfying even as Sherri was filled with fear. Before she knew it, he turned, and began descending the stairs.
“Be careful.” It was all Sherri could manage to say as she fought back tears. Tina clung to her side.
“Honey, c’mon,” Sherri said, gently prodding Tina. “We’re going outside on the walk. We’ll sit down and wait for Mr. Curt to get back.” She said the words knowing the odds were slim they would ever see Curt alive again…or, for that matter, make it out alive themselves.
****
Curt lit a match to guide him. He had two matches left.
He stopped on the seventh landing where the headless cardboard form of Henry “Hank” R. Mears stood. Curt looked up and found the smoke sensor high up on the wall. It was higher than he anticipated, roughly ten feet from the landing. This was going to take precise timing.
First, he removed the wax balls from his pockets. They were the same wax balls he had used at Marvin’s house when they put the Fish in the tub. Fortunately, Sherri had shifted them to his new pants. He stuck one ball in each ear.
Then Curt pried the cardboard figure of Mr. Mears from its base.
The footsteps resonated up the hollow chamber. He guessed they were two floors below, moving quickly.
Curt leaned the cardboard figure over and struck a match. As he tried to light the top edge, the flame abruptly went out.
He was down to one match, and was running out of time. He quickly lit the second match. Slowly, he brought it to the edge of the torn cardboard. The flame faded. Curt’s chest tightened. A moment later, however, it sparked back up and caught the cardboard on fire.
He could hear voices now as the pounding footsteps of the members of the Blue Council drew near. They were close, ascending the last flight of steps before him. A bright light suddenly glowed.
Curt could feel his heart racing. He lifted the cardboard cutout and aimed the end that was on fire at the sensor above.
He turned to see Loustein, with the Fish in hand, reach the landing, followed closely by four men.
Just then, the sprinkler heads activated and water rained down.
What happened next was almost a blur. The Fish became whole, skin and scales covering the skeleton. The eyes grew ghastly and large; the tail flapped violently. Razor-sharp teeth formed inside a fully developed mouth. A high-pitched whine split the air, and the creature glowed deep blue. Still in his grasp, the Fish turned on Loustein and gnawed ravenously into the man’s chest. The other four men clutched their ears, paralyzed from the shrill sound it emitted. Each succumbed to the mind-numbing sound and collapsed to the metal landing, writhing in pain as water sprayed down on them.
Even with the wax plugs in his ears, the pain was immense for Curt. He soldiered over to Loustein. With his equilibrium impeded he struggled to maintain his balance. Loustein had his back against the wall, screaming, water streaming from his face as he tried to fend off the creature. The Fish gnashed into his chest, ripping through his shirt and tearing out chunks of flesh. Loustein bellowed, his face contorted in agony. Curt pulled off his own shirt and wrapped his hands within it. He used his wrapped hands to grab the gyrating tail section of the creature. The carnivorous Fish had an otherworldly lock on Loustein’s chest, its teeth embedded in the man’s breast plate. In an odd alliance formed by circumstances, Loustein and Curt worked as one as they attempted to tug the creature away. The ferocious resolve of the Fish was nothing short of demonic. Curt finally gained ground when Loustein smashed a finger into the creature’s eye. The Fish momentarily released its hold, and Curt fell back with it onto the slippery landing beside one of the writhing men.
He held onto the creature by the tail using his shirt as a buffer. It wiggled frantically in the steady fall of water. Curt knew he had a second before the Fish turned on him. He rose on the slick metal flooring and spun, releasing the Fish. It sailed over the low railing into the hollow middle of the Lighthouse. The shirt and Fish fell into the darkness, its blue glow slowly fading.
With the five men temporarily incapacitated, Curt bound down the stairs quickly arriving at the next lower landing in the dark. As he had hoped, the sprinklers had not been activated here, contained to the level where the fire had been detected. He looked over the rail. Below, the blue light was falling, visible in the hollow center, but it was also slowing. He raced down to the fifth landing, then the fourth, trying to catch up with the blue glow.
When he reached the third landing, Curt realized he was ahead of the falling Fish. He waited as the creature slowly fluttered by him, once again a ligh
t, placid skeleton. It was what he had counted on. Once removed from the sprinkler water, it had quickly dried and transformed during its descent.
Curt continued down to the bottom floor where the Fish gracefully floated into his grasp. He removed the plastic bag from his pants and returned the Fish to it.
Curt pulled the wax balls from his ears. He bolted down the short hallway and through the lighthouse door. Outside, he had expected to see more Blue Council members near the still helicopter. No one was in sight.
The gale-force wind was constant, and the cool air chilled his exposed, wet chest. Lightning sizzled across the sky, sending a chorus of thunder echoing down the coast.
His goal was to get these lunatics away from Sherri and Tina so they could escape. Yet as he swept around the light keeper’s house and reached the parking lot, he had an epiphany. Something Lila had said. Curt suddenly felt a renewed sense of purpose. He wanted one more shot at getting this creature in the ocean.
Fighting the wind, Curt reached the street. He was about to cross when another burst of lightning revealed five Blue Council members standing on the far side looking at him. His path to the shore had been blocked. Without options, he turned left, running down the street with the Fish. The people gave chase.
Curt had never been past the lighthouse on Red Cox Road and had no idea what lay beyond. He knew the general lay of the land, though. They were at the northern end of Anastasia Island, so the road would end somewhere ahead. Curt flew, hoping to find an access point to the ocean, thankful that the streetlights were working. For now, all he saw was a steady wall of dense woods which lined either side of the road.
Ahead, the streetlights ended. The barrier of trees to either side disappeared into the darkness. The group behind him was right on his heels. The rain picked up again, each drop pelting him with a sting.
He suddenly regretted his decision.
I’m boxing myself in. First the lighthouse and now a dead-end road, he thought, pushing himself. His lungs burned with each gasp of salty air. Curt felt his hope faltering. Sweat was pouring from his body, and fear kept his exhausted legs pumping. He frantically searched for a break in the tree line, some path to get to the ocean. The foliage remained thick on either side. He contemplated powering his way through the underbrush, but it was too risky. The others would most likely catch him in the process. He had to press on and hope a path opened to the beach before the streetlights ended.
Exhaustion and cramps wracked his body. The wind circled in blustery gusts, sending pinpricks of rain against his shirtless chest. The skies glowed yet again, and a tremendous blast of thunder pulsed the air.
He came to the end of the streetlights and continued into the darkness, where the road abruptly ended. To Curt’s right, a clearing appeared. Obscured in the shadows, there was no way to know how far it reached. Regardless, it was his only opportunity. He had run out of time.
He cut into the clearing and glanced at the pack coming toward him. Twenty-five yards separated them. He rushed forward, where he ran into a dense thicket. The branches clawed at his stomach, his chest. He stopped when he realized it was useless. His hopes sank.
There was nowhere to go.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Thursday, August 18, 5:17 a.m. – St. Augustine, Florida
The weather had continued to worsen. Sherri and Tina sat on the walkway, their backs against the curved wall, enduring a steady rain. They used the large lighthouse beacon as a wind break. Tina was squirming into her mother’s side, shaking. The skies glowed from cascading streaks of lightning, and Sherri could see the roiling surface of the ocean in the distance. The sea was alive, kicking up froth and whitecaps. When the skies once again fell dark, she could hear the maddening churn of the surface as it was beaten into a frenzy by the blistering wind.
She prayed Curt was okay.
Sherri thought she heard a crash of glass, but it was hard to tell in the torrent of wind. A roar arose below. It was not loud enough to be the helicopter. She grabbed the shotgun and started to rise to see the source of the sound, but Tina refused to let her go. She stayed put, holding onto Tina instead.
The sound escalated, then, just as suddenly as it began, it abated.
****
Curt heard a rumbling noise and turned to face the approaching pack. A blinding pair of lights silhouetted the Blue Council members. The road shimmered as the lights approached quickly. The mechanical sound grew louder. Something swift and large was approaching. A blare erupted, and the solid beams of light rushed toward the pursuers. The speeding vehicle never veered, careening into the crowd and sending bodies flying in all directions. The light-colored minivan skidded sideways across the pavement. Several Blue Council members managed to elude the first pass, but the minivan expertly backed up and pummeled them on the second pass. To Curt’s amazement, even after being run over, the Blue Council members slowly rose to their feet.
For the first time, Curt saw the blonde-haired man behind the wheel. He felt extreme relief. It was Scott.
The vehicle slewed through the maze of mangled bodies. When all were on the ground a second time, it came to an abrupt stop. Yet again, the strewn members picked themselves up and began to regroup.
Even though they had discussed it, seeing invincibility was a terrifying sight.
“Get in!” Scott yelled.
Curt climbed in as Scott smashed the accelerator and spun the car, aiming for the largest cluster of people once again. The minivan bore through effortlessly as some bodies fell under the wheels while others bounced into the air, flailing helplessly from the impact with the two-ton force. A woman with long black hair cursed at the passing vehicle.
Curt pointed at her. “That’s the first time I’ve ever seen Renee Chaps without her hair tied in an insufferable lump on her head.” Curt looked around the interior. “By the way, nice ride.”
“My first choice was out of gas, as were my next five choices. Lew sells used cars, but you have to bring your own gas. Cheap bastard.”
“We thought you were dead,” Curt said.
Scott looked nervously in his rearview mirror. “I’m driving a baby-blue minivan. I might as well be.”
****
There was another break in the rain. Sherri heard the sound of voices carried on the wind. The roar, which she had determined was an engine of some sort, faded in and out. She stood with Tina clinging to her leg. Far below, lights stabbed through the darkness at the end of the road, fueling her worry.
What was going on? Had the Blue Council caught Curt?
She could no longer wait. Awkwardly holding the shotgun, Sherri led Tina back to the open lighthouse doorway.
A hulking figure suddenly appeared in the dark entryway.
Tina screamed, stumbling into her mother’s side.
The thing lit a match, and an unreal sight materialized. Furious eyes locked on Sherri. It was a man, gnashing his teeth, but it was his chest oozing blood that horrified Sherri to the core. His shirt was in tatters, and bloody flesh hung like strands of spaghetti. Several ribs were completely exposed in the cavernous wound. He appeared more cadaver than human.
Sherri could not move. Bile rose in her throat, which she involuntarily swallowed back down. When her mind finally thawed, she recalled Curt identifying this man at the Blue Council building as Park Ranger Loustein. She raised the shotgun in defense. Loustein yanked the heavy weapon from her hands like a toy, quickly disarming her. Sherri grabbed hold of Tina.
Lightning coated the sky, followed by a loud pop of thunder.
Loustein’s face was cast in murky shadows. The man glared at Sherri with malice. Blood spilled from his ravaged chest.
Sherri was speechless. She was panting so hard, her chest hurt. She backed Tina up until they were against the railing. The wind whipped her hair across her face.
The man lowered the barrel of the shotgun
until it was aimed at Tina’s head. Tina cringed against Sherri’s side. His bloodshot eyes slid from Sherri to Tina, and back to Sherri. Her entire body trembled, and she was nauseated. In a moment of harsh reality, she knew she had nothing left to lose. The Blue Council would not leave any witnesses. He was going to kill them both.
Sherri pushed Tina away and rushed the man. She grabbed the barrel of the gun with one hand and threw a balled fist into the large man’s face. Although surprised, the blow had little impact. He never lost his grip on the shotgun and used his powerful leverage to wrench it to the side. Still holding on, Sherri slammed into the lighthouse beacon wall. The pain was blinding, and she collapsed on the walkway. Through the raging wind, she could hear Tina wailing. Sherri tried to rise, but as the world spun, she slipped back down to the stone surface.
The next thing Sherri knew, she was hoisted in the air horizontally. Somewhere below, Tina was screaming and crying so hard, she choked. Sherri realized the huge man had her over his head. She turned to look down. He stepped to the rail, trying to stabilize his body in the high wind as Sherri teetered in his hands. She knew her life was over.
In the next instant, he released her.
For a horrifying moment, she fell, but immediately impacted with something. She gripped in sheer desperation. One hand found a vertical hold, and her body stopped with a harsh jerk. Her shoulder ached from the sudden cessation. She reached her other hand up and grabbed a second vertical iron brace and realized it was the bottom of the guardrail. It was slick from the rain, but she managed to hold on. The wind had blown her into it the moment Loustein released her. She ventured a look down into the vast darkness. Her heart fluttered, her chest was on fire. The stiff breeze tilted her body as she clung for dear life. On the walkway above, Tina was sobbing relentlessly.
Death in the Beginning (The God Tools Book 1) Page 29
