Over the growl of the Humvee’s engine, he heard the piercing staccato of automatic gunfire. He winced and waited for a chorus of howls to answer it. His dreams would forever be haunted by the night when a group of Goliaths tore through Fort Detrick. Every time he heard gunfire or the lone howl of a hunting Skull, he braced himself for a desperate defense. They had worked so hard to recover, yet all the man-hours spent rebuilding, all the bullets spent defending, all the lives lost in the effort, could be wiped away with a single rampaging horde.
Detrick had fallen twice already. Shepherd vowed it wouldn’t again.
-7-
Meredith heard the shrieks of Skulls, just audible above the din of the engine room. Their bodies littered the deck now, bone plates cracked and diseased flesh riddled with bullets. Blood leaked across the steel grating. The odor of cordite and oil hung heavy in the air.
She and Jenna guarded Andris as he placed a few pieces of C4 among the pipes and machinery. When he gave them the signal, they ran from the engine room, slamming the hatch shut behind them.
“Alpha, we’ve set the explosives,” Meredith said. “We’re headed to the stern now to place the final charges.”
Once they detonated, those charges would scuttle the ship and ensure the shipment of Skulls never made landfall.
“Copy,” Dom said. “We got a read on trace explosives up here.”
“Miguel?” Meredith asked.
“That’s right. He detected a small concentration around the bridge. We’re not sure what’s going on, but we dealt with our own batch of Skulls up here.”
“You think the crew turned?”
“Looks like it,” Dom said. “Either way, I want to be out of here in ten minutes.”
Meredith, Andris, and Jenna continued down the corridor. As they got further away from the noisy engine room, the ringing in her ears lessened. Soon she could hear the crash of water against the ship’s hull once more. Amid the pounding of their feet on the deck, Meredith thought she heard something else. It wasn’t just the tap-tap-tap of pipes adjusting to shifting pressures or the whoosh of air through ventilation ducts. This was a distinct scratching sound.
“Do you smell that?” Jenna asked.
“It wasn’t me,” Andris replied automatically.
The stink of diesel and oil still clogged Meredith’s nostrils, but if she concentrated, she got a whiff of a stench like carrion rotting in the sun. It grew stronger as they approached the most sternward corridors.
“These container ships have all been in shitty shape, but this one takes the cake,” Meredith said. She gestured toward the bulkhead. “Andris, go for it.”
The Hunter withdrew the last batch of demolition explosives from his pack. He set the blasting cap and remote detonator then secured the package against the bulkhead.
Andris patted the bulkhead and stood. “This should be more than enough to sink this stinking wreck.”
They took a set of ladders toward the upper deck, but the stench of rotten meat followed them. The scratching they’d heard earlier seemed to grow louder and more frequent.
“Here they come again,” Meredith said. There was no mistaking the distinctive scrape of claws against metal. “But where the hell are they?”
Growls and moans seemed to follow them as if the Skulls were in neighboring corridors. Meredith hurried through each intersection and past the hatches as they worked their way back to the surface of the ship.
“I do not like this,” Andris said. “I would rather they just attack so we can shoot them and get it over with.”
“I’d rather we just get off the ship so you can set your damn bombs off,” Jenna said.
“We’re almost there,” Meredith said, peering around a corner.
Still no Skulls.
The stench was getting stronger, and the howls were growing louder and more frustrated. It seemed the further they went along and the more their bootsteps clanged over the deck, the angrier the hidden Skulls were getting.
“Wait!” Andris called. “Look at this.” He knelt at an intersection and picked up a length of wire. The wire had been pressed into the corner of the deck. Meredith followed it as it snaked to various hatches along the corridors, connecting them in one long circuit.
“What is it?” Meredith asked.
“A detonating cable.”
“Shit,” Meredith said. “Can you tell what it’s rigged to?”
“Got to follow it.” He picked up the cord inch by inch. It led to the first hatch. There it curved into the space where the hatch met the bulkhead. Gingerly, he tried the handle. “It is locked, but the cord goes underneath.”
Suddenly something clanged against the hatch. A loud shriek sounded, followed by claws scraping.
“Probably better that door stays closed,” Andris said, stepping away.
“Look,” Meredith said. She pointed to the cord. “It keeps going.”
The cord continued to a neighboring hatch. Meredith tentatively tapped against the door. Just like before, something threw itself at the hatch, erupting in fearsome howls.
“Skulls behind every one of these doors,” she said. “They’re rigged to blow.”
Andris took out a pair of wire cutters and shrugged. “That’s easy enough to stop.” He snipped the detonating cord. “Amateur job.”
“Great,” Meredith said. “Those two hatches aren’t going to blow open, but I have a feeling more are rigged. Looks like we found what was setting off Miguel’s trace explosive sensor.”
“Shall I cut more?” Andris asked.
The hatches clanged as the Skulls riled each other up.
“Better to get off the ship than spend more time here trying to sabotage their traps,” Meredith said. She chinned her comm link. “Alpha, we found detonation cords rigged to hatches with Skulls locked behind them.”
“Bravo, get to the upper deck immediately,” Dom replied. “Frank, we need that pickup now.”
A spear of light illuminated flecks of dust just down the corridor. There it was: an exit from the rank and noisome passageways. Meredith ran toward it with Jenna and Andris beside her. The growls of the Skulls chased them, and her heart beat faster.
They couldn’t let a ship like this hit the Dublin Port. Even if it did have fewer Skulls on board than usual, it would still be a massacre. Whoever had rigged the ship knew the Hunters couldn’t turn their backs when people needed to be protected.
Still, Meredith couldn’t quite understand what the enemy had been thinking. The Hunters had set their foot in the bear trap, but it hadn’t been sprung yet. They hadn’t identified the trigger that would set the explosives off.
“We’re wrapping up in the bridge,” Dom said. “Bravo, you in the clear?”
“We are now,” Meredith said, still racking her mind to figure out when those charges would go off below deck.
She led Bravo onto the upper deck. The roar of the Seahawk greeted them as Frank lowered the chopper, ready to pick them up.
“Data transmission done,” Dom said. “Removing transmitters now, then we’ll join you, Bravo.”
“Copy, we—”
A deafening rumble shook the ship. Flames rolled from the shipping containers on the deck. Stacks of them collapsed, and black smoke poured out of the hatch Bravo had just exited. Then came another wave of sound: a chorus of howling Skulls.
***
Dom grabbed the chart table to steady himself as the ship lurched with the power of the explosion.
“Move!” Dom bellowed over the groans of bending metal.
The rest of Alpha team barreled out of the bridge. Once again they were leaving the bridge with barely more intel than they’d arrived with. Another series of smaller explosions burst throughout the ship’s lower decks, sending tremors up through the bulkheads. Dom grabbed a rail as he sprinted out of the bridge after his team. They rushed down the ladders toward the deck to join Bravo team.
Overhead, Frank’s Seahawk beat the air, promising them refuge—if they could f
ind somewhere for the pilot to touch down long enough for the Hunters to escape. A hatch beside Dom burst open with a hiss. Smoke poured out, bringing with it a Skull. The monster charged Dom. Its claws reached for his flesh, and it let out a bloodcurdling wail. Dom barely had time to duck under its swinging arms.
As the thing came at him, he slid on the deck. The monster turned to catch him, but Dom was faster. He raised his rifle and fired off a three-round burst. The bullets caught the monster’s chest. Bone cracked and flecked off. The Skull collapsed as a wet gurgling sound escaped its lips. Bloody bubbles popped from the hole in its chest.
“Chief!” Miguel yelled.
The Skull hadn’t been alone. Four others trampled its body in their haste to reach the Hunters. They came at Dom in a flurry of bony appendages. Glenn and Miguel leveled the first two with their rifles. Spencer and Dom finished off the rest.
“I’m sensing more,” O’Neil said. “When they were all stowed away below deck, I couldn’t smell ’em like I can now.”
“Any idea how many?” Dom asked.
“A shit-ton,” O’Neil said.
“I can handle a shit-ton,” Miguel said. “Two shit-tons is another story, but one is manageable.”
Spencer started to say something. “I don’t—”
An explosion from the bridge cut off his words. Glass shards flew like daggers, and the ladder peeled away from the rolling fire. The heat and force of the blast caught Dom squarely in the chest and tossed him backward.
Pain flared when his head struck something hard. All around him he smelled burning oil and flesh. His ears rang, and his pulse raced. He shot to his feet, looking for the rest of Alpha.
“Miguel! Spencer! Glenn! O’Neil!”
Debris fell over him like hail. He coughed, his lungs filling with the oily smoke surrounding him. A shape ran through the haze. Fire licked off its body, and it let out a tortured scream. For a moment Dom worried that was one of his men. Then he saw the horns and claws, longer than even O’Neil’s.
The flaming Skull caught sight of Dom. Even as its bone plates turned to charcoal and its melting flesh sloughed off its body, it came at him. Dom parried scything claws and biting teeth. All the while, the heat of the fire consuming the Skull blazed against Dom’s skin.
Another Skull careened out of the smoke toward Dom. He backed away, using his rifle to counter their attacks. But with two burning Skulls after him, there was only so long he could last. Adrenaline burned through him hotter than the raging fires.
A claw raked one of his arms. Pain lanced through his muscle. But he didn’t lose the grip on his rifle. Another fist hit his chest, crashing into his body armor. The air whooshed from his lungs. His throat ached from the smoke, and his eyes watered, blurring his vision.
“Chief!” Miguel called.
“Miguel!” Dom bellowed back. “Over here!”
Spittle flew from the mouth of one of the Skulls as Dom fended it off. Its sour breath washed over him, more pungent than its charred flesh. Then he saw his chance. He swept a leg out, catching a Skull’s taloned feet. It stumbled, trying to catch its balance. As the Skull tripped, Dom caught its compatriot under its chin. That Skull’s head flicked backward, momentarily thrown off its attack. Dom planted his foot into the monster’s ribs and kicked it over.
Another shape exploded out of the smoke. Miguel. He caught the off-balance Skull. With a twist of his wrist, he flicked the blade out of his prosthetic and straight into the back of the Skull’s neck. Dom plugged the other with two bullets through its chest and another through its head. The Skulls collapsed to the deck, fire still consuming them.
“Where are the others?” Dom rasped.
“Don’t know,” Miguel said. “You’re the first I found.”
Spencer, Glenn, and O’Neil couldn’t have been thrown far. Dom ran into the billowing smoke where Miguel had come from.
“Alpha!” Dom called over the comms. “Respond!”
“Here, Captain!” Glenn yelled. “Over here!”
Dom twisted in the direction of the frantic voice. The silhouettes of Skulls surrounded the rest of Alpha. O’Neil stood between Glenn and Spencer. Blood flowed from the Hybrid’s nostrils. His eyes were closed. He stood as if at attention, yet every muscle in his body seemed to be shaking.
“He’s trying to stop them!” Spencer yelled.
There were maybe two dozen Skulls surrounding the trio. Glenn and Spencer prowled around O’Neil, shooting into the mob. The monsters jerked forward in fits. It was as if they were moving amid strobe lights. O’Neil seemed to be having some effect on them, but it wasn’t enough to stop them.
“Take them out!” Dom ordered.
He and Miguel rushed the Skulls, firing into their ranks. When it was too risky to keep shooting, lest they hit the others, they lashed out with blades. The Skulls twisted and bit, trying to attack one moment, then standing still the next.
Sweat rolled over Dom’s soot-covered skin and dripped into his eyes. His muscles strained with each Skull he brought down, and he fought to breathe air still thick with smoke. Fire raged within the superstructure of the ship, and billowing gray clouds of smoke chased out more Skulls. They swarmed through the hatches. Many were on fire. Others had damaged limbs, twisted and burned or missing altogether. None of that stopped them from seeking their prey.
“Alpha, we’re being pushed back!” Meredith called. “We almost made it onto the deck, but the Skulls got there first.” Gunshots blasted over the comms. “We need help!”
“We’re on it!” Dom tried to take a deep breath. He erupted into a coughing fit instead. He could already imagine the blackness sticking to the insides of his lungs, making it more and more difficult to breathe. “Alpha, let’s go. O’Neil, can you hold them back?”
The Hybrid wiped the blood trickling out of his nostrils. “I’ll try.”
Then his eyes went wide. A roar filled the air, followed by the crash of metal containers slamming into each other. A Goliath barreled toward them, throwing Skulls and shipping containers out of its way.
-8-
The Goliath’s nostrils flared. Its beady eyes looked miniscule amid the mask of overgrown bones that was its face. Huge tusks curled out from its massive underbite. Vessels larger than a normal human’s arms dilated between the thick plates covering its limbs. From its shoulders, spikes of bone jutted out. They appeared as though they’d been cut or broken off, blunted abruptly at their ends. The Goliath slammed a shoulder into one of the shipping containers, knocking the object aside as if it had been an empty cardboard box.
And Thomas was forced to watch the whole scene from the drone circling the container ship. Despite his location in the Huntress’s electronics workshop, he could almost feel the heat of the flames consuming the other ship and the tremor of the deck under the Goliath’s stomping feet. He heard Alpha’s and Bravo’s frantic voices as each dealt with the Skulls, separated now by bulkheads and decks.
“Fall back!” Meredith yelled. “Look out!”
Then Dom. “O’Neil, take the smaller ones. I got this one!”
Thomas let the unlit cigar fall from his lips as he slammed his fist on the console. “Damn it, we’ve got to do something.”
Chao and Samantha gave him pity-filled looks. There was nothing they could do but watch.
“I’m looking for an opening,” Frank said. “But those Skulls are driving them in circles. Can’t get the Hunters still long enough to pick ’em up.”
“Keep at it,” Thomas said.
A knot tightened in his chest. This had been a goddamn trap. They’d had to risk boarding. Thomas understood that. Any intel, any clue when or where the next wave of ships would come in, would be a boon. But the FGL had been expecting the Hunters this time.
A smaller Skull bounded out of one of the superstructure’s hatches. It scaled the bulkhead over Miguel’s head. The Hunter fired on another Skull, oblivious to the threat.
“Miguel,” Thomas barked over the comm link. “Above
you!”
Through the monitor, Thomas saw Miguel look up and fire. The Skull fell to the deck. Its bones cracked, and blood flooded from the fresh wounds.
“Always knew I had a guardian angel looking out for me,” Miguel said, before firing on another Skull.
“Angel, my ass,” Thomas spat. “I’d rather be down there filling those bastards with bullets myself.”
He hated staring impotently at the crew through the safety of these monitors. It seemed as if they were being routed in circles by the Skulls. The Goliath came after them in a whirlwind, and Dom led Alpha back up the superstructure’s ladders toward the destroyed bridge. Thick tendrils of smoke plumed from the wreckage.
“Alpha, you go in there and you’ll lose your eye in the sky,” Thomas warned.
“No choice,” Dom said.
“You’ll need to find another choice,” Thomas said. “Frank can’t pick you up there.”
“Shit,” Dom said. Frustration shook his voice.
Thomas wished he could say something more helpful. It was either take down the Goliath or retreat toward the bridge. Dom really didn’t have any other options as far as Thomas could see. And both might well be suicide.
Bullets pinged against the Goliath’s armor. A few holes wept crimson between the plates, but the behemoth didn’t seem to notice. While the Hunters were forced to use the ladders and platforms, the Goliath simply dug its claws into the metal, making its own handholds as it climbed. Smaller Skulls ambushed Alpha at every turn, flinging themselves from open hatches.
“That’s it,” Frank said. “I’m going in.”
The chopper lowered, and its blades kicked away wisps of the oily black smoke. A rope ladder uncoiled from the side and fell just yards away from Dom.
“Hold tight,” Thomas said. “Any closer and you risk shearing those blades off.”
“You don’t need to tell me,” Frank said. “I’ve got—”
“Move, Frank!” Thomas bellowed.
The Goliath had ripped a piece of steel grating from a platform. It cocked its arm back then let the torn chunk of metal fly. Frank jockeyed the chopper away just in time. The piece of platform blasted past him. With a roar, the Goliath ripped off one of the swinging hatches and flung it like a deadly Frisbee at the chopper.
The Tide: Ghost Fleet (Tide Series Book 7) Page 6
