by Jake Bible
The two snipers didn’t stop firing until they’d gone full Winchester and emptied every magazine they had.
***
Darby went low.
She didn’t reply to Daacad or wait for the man to make the first move, just dropped to her knees and sent two jabs into his crotch. He cried out in a high pitched voice, grabbed his balls, and fell to his knees, coming face to face with Darby. She slammed her forehead into his nose, knocking him onto his back, and leapt to her feet as three of Daacad’s men sprinted towards her.
The first man to reach her swung high and Darby easily ducked the swing, landing a hard hit to the man’s ribs. The crack of bone was like a gunshot, adding to the cacophony already filling the air. She grabbed him by the back of the neck and brought her knee up, while bringing his face down. The man’s cheekbone shattered and he screamed as half his face caved in.
Without missing a beat, Darby spun the man about and shoved him into the two others coming at her, giving her time to grab the rail, shove herself up into the air, and spin about. Her legs whipped about, catching one man in the temple and the other across the jaw. The first contact was a dead shot, killing the man instantly. The second hit crushed the other man’s jaw, nearly ripping it from his face. He screamed, but it came out as a pitiful, choked cry.
Darby landed on her feet and went in for the kill, but she was tripped up by Daacad as the man grabbed her ankle and pulled her off her feet. He scrambled on top of her and his hands were around her throat, strangling, crushing, killing. The blood in her head began to pound, sending sharp, stabbing pains to a space right behind her eyes. She could feel them bulging out of the sockets as her throat was crushed, cutting off the air flow to her lungs and the circulation to her brain.
“Little ladies shouldn’t be fighting with big men,” Daacad said, “only whores try to do that.”
Darby jammed her thumbs up into Daacad’s armpits, nailing pressure points that would have taken down men twice his size. But the pirate clan leader wasn’t giving up; he shouted, roared, screamed in pain, yet his hands remained clamped to Darby’s neck. She brought her hands up to his face, her thumbs finding his eyes, and she pressed with every last ounce of strength she had.
Daacad screeched. His voice went up two octaves as Darby squashed his eyes into pulp. Jelly and blood squirted from under his lids and ran down his cheeks. He shook his head back and forth, but Darby had her thumbs hooked inside his sockets. With his eyes nothing but mush, she focused on his orbital bones. She wanted to literally rip his face off. But she was losing oxygen to her brain. It felt as if his hands were crushing her throat all the way back against her spine. She knew she had seconds and she gave one last effort, but it wasn’t enough.
She was done.
Her vision went red as the blood vessels in her eyes burst and she took one last look up at the man that had beaten her. His face was a rictus of pain and rage, his mouth open in a scream she couldn’t hear over the thudding of trapped blood behind her eardrums. The red started to turn to black, and she wished she could close her eyes so Daacad’s wicked face wouldn’t be her last sight in life.
Then the vision of his head split in two. Literally. And the pressure on her throat eased. Daacad wavered in her vision, and then toppled from her. Standing there, in Darby’s damaged vision, was Kinsey, a machete drenched in blood hanging from her hand.
“Come on,” Kinsey said, “we’re getting out of here.”
Darby was pulled to her feet as Kinsey basically carried her across the ship to the lifeboat. She wanted to protest, to argue, to warn Kinsey that they couldn’t get into the lifeboat and drop to the water. Something was down there. But the words wouldn’t come out. All her vocal efforts produced, were strangled croaks and groans.
“Hush,” Kinsey said, “I’ve got you. We’re gonna be fine.”
The lifeboat, with Shane’s naked, prone, battered figure slumped inside, was feet away and Darby was powerless to stop Kinsey from dropping them to their doom.
***
“That’s not good,” Lake said as warning claxons blared on the bridge. “What the fuck?”
He checked his gauges and screens and found the source: hull breach below water level.
The Beowulf II was taking on water. And fast.
“I need eyes on the damage!” Lake shouted into the com. “All hands below deck, I need a report now!”
He waited a minute and then Cougher’s voice came over the com.
“I can’t get all the way to it,” Cougher said, “the bottom two decks are already filling with water.”
“What the hell happened?” Lake asked, doing the math and realizing that they had maybe five, possibly ten minutes, before the Beowulf II started to go down. “This thing has a double hull!”
“I’m sealing off compartments and decks,” Cougher shouted. “Reports I’ve gotten from the crew is that something sliced right through both hulls. Like a fucking giant knife.”
“What the---” Lake said then realized what had happened. “The fucking helo. A rotor blade must have hit the ship when the damn thing exploded.”
Lake slammed his hand down on the emergency alert and all claxons were drowned out by one single one: the abandon ship warning.
***
“Everyone to the lifeboats!” Darren shouted. “Abandon ship!”
“I can take a few up in the Wyrm,” Bobby said, “land us over on the other ship and take that.”
“Good,” Mr. Ballantine said, “because we may not have enough room in the lifeboats.”
“What?” Thorne yelled. “How the hell is there not enough room? This thing is supposed to be state of the art?”
“It is,” Mr. Ballantine replied, “but corners may have been cut to make room for other equipment. The Beowulf II was designed to take a direct hit from a torpedo and still stay afloat.”
“And how’s that working out?” Thorne shouted.
“Not so well, Commander,” Mr. Ballantine responded.
“Max, Lucy!” Thorne yelled into the com. “Get down here! Team Grendel is taking the pirate ship! We need to secure that vessel so we can evacuate our crew over there!”
“Taking a pirate ship?” Max replied. “I’ve waited my entire life to hear those words!”
***
Jennings crawled away and tried to put some distance between himself and his attacker. The man just followed casually behind him, laughing his head off.
“Where you going to go, new guy?” the man asked. “You think you can hide in the corner? That you tuck your face away I won’t see you? Like a little child?”
Jennings reached up, his hand finding a valve just above him. He turned it until it stopped.
“What have you done?” the man said, still laughing. “Turned off the hot water? Now we cannot take comfortable showers. That is a great plan, new guy. When I cannot wash myself properly tonight, I will curse your soul.”
Jennings rolled onto his back and smiled at the man.
“Why are you smiling, new guy? What do you find so funny?” the man asked. “You are happy to die? Is that it?”
“No,” Jennings said, “that’s not it.”
He reached behind him and pulled a lever that was tucked between two pipes. Scalding steam escaped from four vents to the side, blasting the man’s head and torso. He screamed and brought his hands to his face, which had already started puckering with nasty blisters that burst open and oozed bloody fluid.
Jennings pushed the lever back into place and turned the valve back to its original position. He ignored the pain in his palm as he pulled himself up by a hot pipe. The man before him had fallen to his knees, his screams echoing in the engine room. His face was a melted mess as strips of boiled skin hung from his cheeks and chin.
As he limped over to the man, Jennings brought his fist back then let it fly, connecting with the man’s face. The man’s screams cut off with a wet crunching noise as he fell backwards, unconscious.
Jennings shook his hea
d to clear his thoughts and almost passed out. He fell to one knee and took a deep breath, then mustered the strength to get back up. His body felt broken and nearly done for. The man had given him the beating of his life. The mechanics that had watched the entire fight without doing anything, just stared at him.
“A word of advice?” Jennings said. “Run.”
The men didn’t need to be told twice and they hurried out of the engine room, as Jennings began to twist and turn every valve and handle he could find. Gauges crept towards their redlines. It would only be minutes before the pressure built enough to blast the engine room right through the side of the ship.
Jennings smiled as he leaned against a wall and slid to his ass. He felt like death, and knew he wasn’t going to live long, but he couldn’t help but smile. He’d done what he could and it was only a matter of time before the pirate ship was sent to the deep.
***
“Stop struggling,” Kinsey yelled at Darby, “what the hell is wrong with you?”
Kinsey had to move from one drop line to the other in order to the keep the lifeboat from tipping and dumping them into the ocean, as she slowly lowered it to the waves below. Darby tried to grab her hands and pull them from the lines, but Kinsey just swatted her away.
“Knock it off,” Kinsey said, “you’re going to make me flip this thing!”
But Darby wouldn’t stop. When she couldn’t stop Kinsey from releasing the lines, she just tried to stop Kinsey from moving all together, and grabbed her about the waist.
“What the fuck, Darby?” Kinsey shouted. “We have to get off this ship and back to the Beowulf II! Have you lost your mind?”
Darby tried to speak, but the pain was excruciating as air struggled to get through her crushed larynx. She’d never wanted to communicate with someone so badly in her life. She slapped at Kinsey’s side and back, desperate to get the woman to pay attention.
“Darby!” Kinsey yelled and shoved her away. “Stop!”
But Darby came back at Kinsey and left the woman no option. Kinsey let go of the line she was working on, dropped down behind Darby, and wrapped her arms about Darby’s neck. The woman let out a weak screech and pounded at Kinsey’s arms, but she just didn’t have the strength left in her. In seconds, Darby was choked out and left unconscious on the bottom of the lifeboat next to Shane.
“Sorry about that,” Kinsey said, “but you were going to get us killed.”
She went back to the systematic back and forth with the drop lines, and the lifeboat slowly lowered into the ocean.
***
“What the hell?” Popeye shouted as Team Grendel hopped into the Wyrm. “You’re leaving us here, Captain?”
“We’re going to secure that ship!” Darren shouted over the noise of the rotor blades, an M-4 in hand. “We’ll take the bridge and get the ship as close to us as possible. In the meantime, you need to get everyone into the lifeboats! Lake is in charge. Ballantine and Gunnar are below trying to secure as much data as possible. I am counting on you, Trevor, to keep things orderly on deck and fill those lifeboats. Bobby will come back and get everyone that can’t fit. Got it?”
“You never call me Trevor,” Popeye said.
“That’s how fucking important this is,” Darren said, “you up for this?”
“Born for it, sir,” Popeye said, giving a sturdy salute.
Darren returned it as the Wyrm lifted off and angled towards the pirate ship.
Popeye watched it go, then turned to start shouting orders at the crew members that were streaming up from below. Then he realized one thing: the lifeboats would go into the water. It was a simple realization that wouldn’t have mattered much any other time, since the lifeboats were covered and basically like small watercrafts in of themselves. But that was the problem. They were small. And what was in the water wasn’t small. Not small at all.
***
“Hard drives, flash drives, any specimens that we can carry!” Gunnar yelled as he scrambled about the lab and shoved whatever he could grab into cases and dry bags. “I’m not losing all of this data!”
“I have satellite uplink established,” Mr. Ballantine said from a computer terminal. “Everything you have compiled is being uploaded to the company database as we speak.”
“Is that good?” Gunnar said. “After Perry and the others, I’d have a hard time trusting anything to do with the company.”
“I agree,” Mr. Ballantine said, “but we have no choice. I’ve initiated top level encryption on the data, but that won’t keep it secure for long. If someone in the company wants to hack in and study our findings, then they will. All I can do is hope Mr. Perry and Mr. Longbottom were working alone.”
“But they weren’t,” Gunnar said as he struggled to get an overstuffed case closed, “Perry was working for someone that wanted that shark.” Gunnar stopped and looked at Ballantine. “How many more are there?”
“Like I said, Gunnar,” Mr. Ballantine replied, “I am hoping none. Mr. Perry was respected in the company, but not well liked. He was---”
“No, no,” Gunnar said, “not that. I mean, how many sharks are out there. We caught one and there’s another one, a big motherfucker, stalking us. How many more? What are we looking at?”
Mr. Ballantine stopped what he was doing at the terminal long enough to give Gunnar a hard, honest stare. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Gunnar asked. “How can you not know? The outfit that hired the company to solve its little shark problem didn’t tell you?”
“They didn’t know,” Mr. Ballantine said, “that is the problem.”
“Fucking come clean, Ballantine!” Gunnar shouted. “The Beowulf II is going down! Stop being so fucking coy, you bitch!”
“Fine,” Mr. Ballantine said as he left that terminal and moved to another one, “there was only one shark to begin with. A creature cloned from prehistoric DNA…and enhanced. It escaped and it wasn’t until after it had escaped into the ocean that its creators discovered an anomaly they couldn’t have predicted. No one could.”
“Fucking out with it,” Gunnar snarled.
“The shark was pregnant,” Mr. Ballantine replied.
“Impossible,” Gunnar said, “a clone couldn’t just be pregnant.”
“Apparently it could,” Mr. Ballantine said. “They don’t know how, they don’t know why. But it happened.”
“How many are we talking?” Gunnar asked. “A great white can have anywhere from two to ten pups, but some have been known to birth clutches of up to 15.”
“We don’t know,” Mr. Ballantine said, “but it has happened.”
“And these sharks being born? Are they clones also?” Gunnar asked. “Because if they are…”
“Then they could also be pregnant,” Mr. Ballantine answered for him, “making the threat exponential.”
“Holy fuck,” Gunnar said, “how many are down there?”
“No clue,” Mr. Ballantine said, “but the one that we know of is problem enough.”
He tapped at the keys and then left the terminal to help Gunnar pack. Video screens began to flash and then go blank across the lab.
“What did you do?” Gunnar asked.
“Fried the servers,” Mr. Ballantine said, “wouldn’t want any information to survive and be salvaged by unknown entities.”
“Nah, wouldn’t want that,” Gunnar smirked, “the known entities are dangerous enough.”
***
“Cougher? Report!” Lake shouted into the com.
“All hands below deck are accounted for,” Cougher said, “but we had some casualties. Six men didn’t make it before I sealed off the second deck.”
“Six?” Lake asked, rubbing his face. “Jesus.”
“We are taking on water fast, sir,” Cougher said. “Bilge pumps three, seven, nine, and twelve have burned out. How is it going up there?”
“Popeye has things under control up on deck,” Lake said, “but we still have too many crew members to fit on the lifeboa
ts.”
“I’ll stay behind,” Cougher said, “I’ll go down with the ship.”
“Not going to happen,” Lake said. “Grendel is about to land and take the pirate ship for us. Anyone not on lifeboats will transfer over there as soon as Bobby brings the Wyrm back. You do another sweep below, make sure you haven’t missed anyone then get your ass up on deck.”
“Roger,” Cougher said.
***
The RPG came at the Wyrm with blinding speed, fire spewing from its tail.
“You got that?” Lucy shouted at Max. “Max? Do you have that?”
“Hush,” Max said, his eye to his scope, “I got it.”
“Those the special rounds?” Darren asked.
“No,” Lucy said, “we spent all of those.”
“What?” Thorne shouted. “He’s going to take---”
His protest was cut off by a loud explosion that rocked the Wyrm as it flew over the pirate ship’s deck.
“Bingo,” Max smiled, “good old fashioned shooting. No heat seekers, no bells, no whistles, lots of bangs.”
“Good shooting,” Lucy said and high-fived Max.
“Yeah,” Darren said, “nice shot.”
“How about you do it again?” Bobby yelled over the com. “Got another on our two o’clock!”
It was Lucy’s turn to take aim. She centered the rocket in her sights then led it by a few feet. She exhaled slowly and squeezed the trigger. The entire process from rifle to shoulder and trigger squeeze was less than a second. The bullet hit the RPG, but the rocket had gotten too close. It exploded and shrapnel peppered the Wyrm. Alarms rang out and the helo started to dip fast.
“Hold on!” Bobby shouted. “This is going to hurt!”
Everyone braced themselves, grabbing onto whatever they could as the Wyrm started to spin out of control. It dropped quickly and slammed onto the deck of the ship, but Bobby was able to keep the rotors from dipping and slicing through the deck. Several cables and posts were sent flying as they were severed, and more than a few men on the deck were split in half by the carnage.
