The Tide: Ghost Fleet (Tide Series Book 7)

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The Tide: Ghost Fleet (Tide Series Book 7) Page 7

by Anthony J Melchiorri


  “This thing wants to play Donkey Kong,” Frank said. Another improvised missile forced the chopper higher as he buzzed around the superstructure with the climbing Goliath. “I like arcade games as much as the next guy, but I’m fresh out of quarters.”

  “Frank, you’re going to need to pull back,” Thomas said, ignoring the pilot’s quip. “The chopper is making that Goliath go crazy, and if we lose you, the Hunters are going to have a hell of a time getting off that ship.”

  There was a long sigh over the comms. “I can’t leave ’em like this.”

  “Do it!” Dom yelled back. “Thomas is right.”

  The rest of Alpha laid down a barrage of fire. More Skulls clambered up the superstructure in the wake of the Goliath. Some fell away in the onslaught of bullets. But the Goliath continued on, shielding a swathe of the smaller monsters behind it.

  “I got this!” Glenn said as he unlatched a grenade from his tac vest.

  He waited for the Goliath to roar again. When it opened its mouth, Glenn let the grenade drop. It plummeted straight at the Goliath’s face. Glenn’s aim was good... but it wasn’t good enough. The grenade glanced off, exploding several yards from the giant beast. The force shook the monster but didn’t deter it.

  “Alpha!” Meredith yelled over the comms. “We need fire support now! We’re being beaten back into the lower decks.”

  “Don’t go too low!” Thomas bellowed. The container ship’s bow was already rising above the surface of the water. The ship had maybe five or ten minutes more before the flooding dragged the whole thing into the deep.

  Alpha lobbed a couple more desperate grenades. The Goliath swatted them away. One blast peeled back a layer of bony plates on its arms. It let out a terrifying bellow that was loud enough to shake the speakers inside the electronics workshop.

  Still it climbed.

  “Christ,” Thomas muttered. “This is what hell must look like.”

  Then another voice broke over the comm link. “This isn’t working,” O’Neil said. “I’m going to try something else.”

  “You can’t control it, can you?” Spencer asked.

  “Not like I do the smaller Skulls,” O’Neil answered. “On my mark, you guys make a run for it. I’ll hold off the Goliath.”

  Dom turned to face O’Neil. Thomas could see the worry in his face from there. “You’ll get yourself killed, O’Neil.”

  “Maybe, but at least you all will live.” O’Neil leapt from the platform. He soared in the open air for a second then twisted his body and fell straight at the Goliath.

  ***

  Meredith ducked under a claw. Water sloshed at her feet and those of the Skull attacking her. It snapped at her, teeth barely missing her nose. She slammed the stock of her rifle into its chin. The impact punched several of its fangs out, and blood gushed from its split lips. A blow like that would’ve knocked a normal human off its feet.

  But not a Skull.

  Then another rifle jabbed into the Skull’s face and let loose a spray of automatic gunfire. “I have your back, always,” Andris said before turning to another Skull.

  “Coming down the other corridor!” Jenna yelled.

  They were being pushed into the confines of the sinking ship. Every intersection they passed was clotted with Skulls. At least down here the monsters’ movement was limited; the brief time they’d spent topside had been filled with Skulls coming at them from every goddamn angle imaginable. Meredith had hoped that they’d be able to whittle away the Skulls’ numbers, fighting like the Spartans holding the Persians back at the Battle of Thermopylae.

  There was one small problem with that plan. It seemed there was no end to their numbers. If Alpha could lend fire support, maybe they’d be able to crush the Skulls, coming at the monsters at two sides simultaneously. But the Goliath had trapped Alpha above deck.

  Everything turned into a blur of snaking smoke, blood-soaked water, and raking gunfire. For every Skull they took down, it seemed three more charged down the passageways to take its place. All they could do was retreat. The water was growing deeper. No longer just a puddle beneath their boots, the cold swallowed Meredith’s ankles and then crept up to her calves.

  “Reloading!” Jenna said, switching to a fresh magazine.

  Meredith desperately sprayed gunfire to make up for the temporary pause in Jenna’s salvos.

  There was an ear-shattering roar that shook Meredith’s bones. Then came a quake as if something heavy had hit the deck.

  “Alpha!” Meredith called. “What’s going on?”

  “O’Neil went after the Goliath,” Dom said. “We’re coming for you.”

  Another bellow echoed down the corridors. It was loud enough to give the Skulls pause. The roar ended in an agonized gargle then fell silent.

  “The Goliath’s down!” Miguel said. “The Goliath is down!”

  “O’Neil?” Dom called.

  No answer.

  They had no time to mourn the Hybrid’s sacrifice. The rest of Alpha and Bravo’s lives were at stake.

  Another sound even more terrifying than the Goliath’s roar bubbled over the din of the Skulls’ desperate cries. As the beasts jostled each other, each determined to be the first to sink their claws into Meredith, Andris, and Jenna, the all-too-familiar sound grew louder. An intense stench washed over Meredith, and she looked for the skinny, twisted Skull that was its source.

  There, between two Skulls wrestling each other to get through an intersection, she saw it: the bloated belly, the jaw degraded by dripping acid, and the bloodshot eyes locked on her.

  “Drooler!” she yelled. She had just enough time to drag Jenna and Andris away from the blast of spewing acid. The brown liquid splattered against the bulkhead and splashed into the water pooling around them.

  The acid dispersed in the water, but even diluted, it was strong enough to singe her skin. Slowly, as the acid-filled water seeped into her clothing, the burning spread. It was nowhere near the agony of a full-on Drooler attack, but it still felt as though a thousand fire ants were crawling over her, biting at her flesh.

  Lauren and the medical team had developed a polymeric coating that normally helped protect the Hunters against the Droolers’ acid. But it only protected on impact. It did nothing for this slow leeching of water infused with acid under the fatigues. The pain would only get worse.

  Another round of gruesome boiling noises sounded from the Drooler’s half-dissolved jaw. It was getting ready to unleash another spray.

  They couldn’t risk adding any more acid to the water. It wouldn’t just be the stinging pain she needed to worry about; at high enough concentrations, the acid would start to eat away the skin around her ankles and spread up her legs.

  “Take it out!” Meredith yelled.

  But Andris and Jenna were already engaged with other Skulls. Neither had a clear shot on the Drooler. It was up to Meredith. Several other Skulls lumbered into her rifle’s path. She worked quickly to take them out, her heart pounding in concert with the Drooler’s belching growls.

  The skinny Skull seemed to know it had the upper hand. It took its time, barely advancing even as the throng of Skulls around it pressed forward. Their bony appendages and armored chests took the brunt of Meredith’s fire.

  She needed just one shot to take out the Drooler. One shot to blast through its ugly face and prevent it from unloading its next batch of hot acid.

  Another Skull lunged at her. She swatted away its claws, but the force from its blow knocked her off her feet. With a splash, she landed in the water. Her skin burned from her neck to her toes.

  Planting a foot in her attacker’s chest, she kicked the Skull backward before it could finish her off. She fired a round into its chest then shoved it into the water. The acid began eating away at the Skull’s armor. Bits of bone flaked off, and blood tinged the water with a scarlet hue.

  The Skull lifted a desperate hand to scrape at Meredith. Its muscles, raw and red beneath the cracked plates, quivered. Meredith kicked
the Skull’s hand away then planted a boot atop its head. Throwing her weight into it, she smashed through the weakened bones of its cranium.

  “That’s what you get,” she spat then continued firing into the mob surging toward her.

  More Skulls went down, but it wasn’t enough. She still couldn’t get a clear shot on her primary target.

  “Alpha,” Meredith called. “We’ve got a Drooler now!”

  “On our way!” Dom replied.

  Then the Skulls parted enough for Meredith to see the Drooler again. The monster’s bloodshot eyes caught hers. Its head wrenched back as it prepared to spit.

  “Not again,” Meredith muttered.

  She kicked another Skull over then sent a flurry of rounds into the Drooler’s head. Gore flew from the wounds, and the sickening gurgling quieted just in time. The Drooler slumped over, disappearing under the feet of its demented brethren.

  It was a small victory, but at least the threat had been eliminated.

  At least, she thought it had. From behind them, another column of acid jetted out, dousing the Skulls in its path.

  Meredith jumped backward. “We’ve got another one!”

  -9-

  “That’s no Drooler!” Dom shouted. He could see Meredith, Andris, and Jenna now, backed into a corner in knee-high water. “Hold your fire!”

  From a nozzle in his prosthetic arm, Miguel doused the Skulls nearest him in the same highly concentrated hydrochloric acid the Droolers spewed. It was another weapon Chao had crafted for the Hunter, and it did its job well. Bone plates and armor dissolved under the sustained spray. The acid had gotten the Skulls’ attention, and many began to turn.

  “Open fire, Alpha!” Dom said.

  Skulls fell under a wave of lead. Squeezing in on both sides now, the Hunters caught the Skulls in a pincer movement with Miguel blasting acid into their lines. There was no way they could take all the Skulls down; there were simply too many. But if they could cut the horde down in one corridor, they might give Bravo just enough time to retreat.

  “Not sure how long we can hold these guys off,” Glenn said.

  He and Spencer had posted up along one of the intersections, firing down another passageway. They leveled the Skulls running in to reinforce their brethren, but inch by bloody inch the monsters still advanced. They climbed over the corpses or squeezed between the tangled bodies. Nothing would keep them from fresh meat.

  It was a race against the advancing horde, but eventually the Hunters beat back the last Skulls in their corridor. Bravo had enough room to slip through the reaching arms of the rest.

  “Spencer, Glenn, we’re moving.”

  The duo peeled away from the spot they’d been guarding. With everyone accounted for, they charged back toward the upper deck.

  “Frank, we’re going to need that air evac real soon,” Dom said.

  Their escape route was a gauntlet of horrors. Skulls blasted out of the neighboring corridors. Smoke covered the ceilings, and flames licked from several open hatches. The ship groaned as more distant—but thankfully smaller—explosions rocked the vessel. The incline of the deck grew steeper as the ship sank. Water was flowing in more quickly now, chasing the Hunters up the passages almost as fast as the Skulls themselves. The swelling seawater carried with it the blood and carnage of the battle. Corpses floated amid living Skulls desperately scrabbling for purchase.

  The ship would be a tomb for hundreds of the abominations. Dom prayed it wouldn’t become the Hunters’ final resting place, too.

  “I’m ready when you are, Captain,” Frank said.

  Between the dull glow of the red emergency lights lining the passage, Dom spotted a sliver of white.

  Daylight.

  “We’re almost there!” he roared.

  Skulls shrieked and sprinted at them. Blades and gunfire flashed. It all became a hypnotic, delirious dance. Fending off the monsters, escaping the sinking ship.

  Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong.

  At least, Dom supposed, the ship hadn’t exploded all at once. For that, they were lucky. Or maybe the people who had set this trap were demented. Maybe the FGL wanted Dom and the Hunters to die agonizingly slowly, trapped on this hellish ship. It certainly fit Spitkovsky’s twisted MO.

  Miguel charged ahead of the group. A Skull dared to cross his path. It went down before it could so much as growl. The Hunters rushed over the dying beast. At last they reached the hatch and broke out onto the open deck.

  The chorus of Skulls resounded from the superstructure. Fire ate the interior of the ship like a ravenous parasite. Smoke filled the air around them, stinging Dom’s eyes. But he could hear the Seahawk now above the din of the Skulls.

  “I’m headed your way,” Frank said, bringing the chopper down. “No more Goliaths going to take a swing at me, are there?”

  “None as far as we can see,” Dom replied.

  Shipping containers lay strewn about the deck. Skulls had been smashed and smeared across the deck by the toppled containers. A few reached out pathetically, their arms scratching at nothing but air as Dom led the Hunters past.

  The rope ladder swung from the Seahawk once again. This time, the Hunters were able to scale it without a Goliath trying to yank them from the air. Dom waved his team past as he stared at the huge beast lying dormant near the superstructure. Blood pooled around its gargantuan limbs, and its mouth hung open, tongue lolling out. Its eyes had been punctured by O’Neil’s fearsome attack.

  Dom tried calling the Hybrid’s name once more, but there was no response.

  “I haven’t seen any movement since you all disappeared below deck,” Thomas said over the comm link. “No visible activity except for the fire, smoke, and a few dying Skulls.”

  “Is O’Neil dead?” Dom asked.

  “I just don’t know, Captain.”

  The scrabble of claws on the deck was growing louder. More Skulls started to trickle out of the hatches of the superstructure, chased up by the rising water levels and attracted by the commotion.

  “O’Neil!” Dom tried again.

  Still no response.

  The Navy SEAL-turned-Hybrid had thrown himself at the Goliath when they’d had no other options. If the Goliath had died from the fall, surely O’Neil couldn’t have survived.

  But Dom would be damned if O’Neil, by some grace of fortune, was still alive and he left the Hybrid here to die among the desperate Skulls.

  “I’ve got to make sure,” Dom said. “The rest of you get on the helicopter.”

  “No way, Chief,” Miguel said, swinging from near the top of the ladder. “I’m not getting in if you aren’t.”

  “That’s a goddamn order,” Dom said. “You want to help me, you can provide fire support from there.”

  Spencer, Jenna, and Glenn had already loaded into the chopper. They leaned out of the fuselage, their rifles ready to open up at the first sight of a Skull threatening their captain. But Meredith hadn’t even grabbed the ladder yet.

  “I’m going with,” she said. Before he could tell her otherwise, she added, “If he’s injured, you’re not going to be able to handle him alone.”

  Dom relented and jogged toward the dead Goliath. Frank followed as best he could in the chopper. The stacks of shipping containers and the fiery superstructure prevented him from getting too close. Gunfire rang out from under the roar of the chopper’s engines. Skulls fell without Dom or Meredith having to lift their rifles. Dom kicked a Skull that pounced at him from beneath a jumble of containers. He ended the monster’s life with a single shot then clambered atop the Goliath’s mammoth chest.

  “Do you see him?” Meredith asked, joining him.

  Back-to-back, they shuffled around in a circle, searching for where O’Neil had fallen. The Skulls inched closer, drawn by the helicopter. The Hunters in the chopper could hold the Skulls off for only so long.

  “There!” Dom said. A heavy weight filled his gut. O’Neil was trapped beneath the outspread claws of the Goliath. He leapt
off it and scrambled to where the former SEAL lay under the meaty, bone-plated fingers. “When I lift, you pull him out.”

  Dom strained, his quads burning as he pushed up the huge fingers. His knees felt ready to buckle, and his muscles shook. But he did not stop until Meredith pulled O’Neil out. Dom let the claws drop, and they clanged against the deck.

  Cracks had spiderwebbed across one of O’Neil’s arm plates. The mask growing over his face had been fractured, too. Blood seeped from the wounds and dribbled out of the corner of his mouth. But his chest rose and fell in weak, slow breaths.

  “He’s still alive,” Meredith said. “But he needs help now.”

  The shrieks of more Skulls plunging out of the ship pierced the din of the chopper’s engines. Gunfire rained down from the Hunters on the bird, but it wasn’t enough to quell the mob. Dom hated to move someone after they’d fallen from a height like O’Neil had. But it was either risk worsening a neck or back injury or let him succumb to the teeth and claws of the oncoming Skulls.

  The choice was clear.

  “Let’s move him,” Dom said. He wrapped his hands under O’Neil’s shoulders, and Meredith lifted his feet. They carted O’Neil to the chopper and secured a harness around the Hybrid’s limp form. The other Hunters slowly hoisted him up. Dom and Meredith grabbed onto the rope ladder next.

  “Go, Frank,” Dom said. The chopper lifted away, carrying them just beyond the slashing reach of the Skulls. The monsters wailed in frustration as they leapt, their meal escaping.

  Then the ship’s stern disappeared under water. The vessel groaned like a wounded leviathan. Soon the bow, too, had fed the hungry Atlantic. Some of the shipping containers bobbed at the surface before water eventually filled the small gaps, taking them under. A mess of corpses floated in a macabre tangle.

  Thomas’s voice came over the comm links. “I take it you all aren’t interested in exploring those other ships.”

 

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