by Toby Tate
As Phillips watched the gauges, the temperature suddenly leveled off and began moving in the opposite direction—fifty-one hundred, five thousand, four-thousand fifty, four thousand degrees. Relief washed over the captain as he realized MacIntyre had been successful in replacing the rods. As he had that thought, he saw Mac making his way through the engine room toward the watch stander’s station.
Phillips opened the door and Mac, who was completely drenched in sweat, stepped into the soundproof room. The commander went directly to an air conditioning vent where the cool forced air blasted the heat from his body. Phillips stared at him slack-jawed.
“Well, is the temp going down? How are we doing?” Mac said.
Phillips replied after several seconds. “Yeah, great job. The temperature is steadily decreasing.”
The staring continued.
“Something wrong?” Mac asked.
“Mac, your eyes. They’re silver, just like Lilith’s.”
CHAPTER 62
Lisa lay in the rack in her stateroom, tears staining her pillow.
Every time she closed her eyes she saw Hunter’s face, his goofy smile, felt his hot breath on her cheek, tasted his sweet kisses. It was almost unbearable to think of him with that monster that called herself a woman. Lisa had never felt so much like killing in her life, but right now she knew she could do it easily. She wanted to crush the life out of Lilith with her bare hands. Lisa knew it probably wasn’t the Christian way to feel, but she figured if God had righteous anger, then so could she. She just wanted her husband back and would do anything to make that happen.
Was he in danger? Was he locked up somewhere like a slave? Was he even alive? There was no way to answer any of those questions and Lisa had never felt as hopeless as she did right then.
She laid a hand on her belly, thinking about the life that now grew inside of her. Hunter’s baby. She hoped it would have his eyes—Lisa loved Hunter’s eyes and warmed at the thought of them, sparkling and golden in the sunlight. She could almost hear his voice whispering in her ear, feel his fingers massaging her shoulders, caressing her cheek. But now, he was gone, somewhere out there in the darkness of Manhattan. Was he thinking of her? She hoped so.
Intense emotion coursed through Lisa’s heart like a river of flame that threatened to burn the life from her. The tears fell like a rainstorm to quench the fire and fell long and hard until her pillow was soaked and Lisa finally drifted off to sleep.
PART FOUR: METAMORPHOSIS
CHAPTER 63
The days ran together in a blur. Hunter watched people come and go, remembered voices, but not words. He was aware of his own thoughts, but it was as if another person was inside his head thinking them, like someone had taken control and he was only along for the ride. He reeked of body odor and his head throbbed with pain, but he didn’t care.
When he had awakened after arriving at the apartment, he couldn’t remember who he was, where he had come from or much of anything about his past life. His clothes were soaked, but it hadn’t been raining. Had he fallen in the water? Hunter only knew one thing—he had to please Lilith. She was all that mattered now. The thought of her was intoxicating, like a powerful drug that constantly needed to be resupplied. Yet there were fleeting shadows, vague recollections of another life. It was like trying to remember a dream.
He had spent his time doing things for Lilith, but he didn’t remember what. The city outside was like a wasteland. Something had happened there—a storm, maybe? It had been nearly destroyed. There was trash in all the streets, many of the storefront windows were shattered and buildings flooded, vehicles were smashed, dead birds and other animals lay strewn about. The city was strangely void of people. It was like the aftermath of an apocalypse.
The apartment where they stayed was spacious, a brownstone somewhere in Manhattan, well-decorated with a huge rain-forest mural on one wall, a big, well-used kitchen and art deco-style furniture. It was her apartment, though she shared it with several others. Hunter was actually hoping those others would eventually leave so he and Lilith could be alone.
A sudden primal scream from a room down the hall pierced the silence, invading his daydream and sending a chill through Hunter’s spine. It sounded like some kind of large animal. Then he remembered—something was happening to Lilith. She was changing, mutating. At least, that was what the others had said. Lilith had become unhinged, enraged about an event that should have occurred aboard the USS Ford, a Navy carrier that sat just inside New York Harbor. Something about a meltdown. She said that someone had prevented it and vowed to crush the life out of them, whoever it was. She launched into a tirade, throwing a lamp at the TV and smashing the screen, then punching her fist through the wall of the apartment.
That was when Lilith noticed the bumps on her arms. They were dry and patchy, like the scales of a reptile. At first, they began to appear on her legs, then on her face and in a matter of hours covered her entire body. She was growing a second skin. Lilith was frantic, locking herself in her room and refusing to come out.
Then the screams began. That was when the others started to leave, one by one, until no one was left but Hunter.
Whatever she was becoming, he didn’t care. He only wanted to serve her. Didn’t he?
But something wasn’t quite right. There were memories of a past life, subconscious thoughts that he just couldn’t quite reach though he tried to dig as far down as he could, desperate to bring them to the surface. He sat on a couch in the living room, staring at the smashed TV, thoughts running rampant through his confused mind. A golden shaft of morning sun filtered through the windows, illuminating the clouds of dust that swirled in the stale air. Had he eaten? He couldn’t remember. He didn’t seem to have much appetite.
A face suddenly rose unbidden in his mind’s eye—a woman’s face—olive skin with amazing, curly black hair that fell about slender shoulders; a smell, like the sweetest honeysuckle; a beautiful face, tender and mesmerizing. It was saying his name as tears streaked down her lovely cheeks. Hunter could almost remember…almost…
Then the front door crashed open.
* * *
“So, there you are,” the stranger said, looking Hunter over as he sat on the couch. The man was short, about Hunter’s size, sporting blue jeans, biker boots and a black Rancid T-shirt. His head was shaved. He had no facial hair and wore a scowl that seemed to be permanent judging by the lines in his face. He was thin but wiry and he looked pissed.
But the most striking thing was his silver eyes.
“Giving any more lessons in naval history, asshole?” the man asked.
Hunter had no idea what he was talking about.
“Who are you, again?”
The man nodded in understanding.
“Lilith has you under her control, doesn’t she? Well, the name is Hendricks and I’m your worst nightmare.”
Before Hunter could react, Hendricks reached down, grabbed Hunter by the shirt collar and tossed him across the room like a piece of crumpled up paper. Hunter hit two of the kitchen chairs, slamming them into the oak table and knocking it on its side. He lay on the floor in a daze, wondering who the hell this guy was and what he was angry about. Hunter’s back would probably be bruised from where he had hit the chairs, and it hurt like hell.
Hendricks advanced toward him. Hunter sprang from the floor in one fluid movement and stood head-on with his knees slightly flexed and fists up in a Kung Fu stance, ready for another assault. When it came, Hunter was ready. Hendricks took a swing and Hunter deflected it with a sweep of his arm, using his free hand to land a lightning-quick blow to the man’s solar plexus, effectively leaving him breathless and bent forward. Hunter kneed him in the face, sending him flying backwards, blood from his broken nose spraying the room like a geyser.
Hunter felt like he was watching the whole scene from another perspective, like a mind-out-of-body experience.
“Where the hell did I learn that?” he murmured.
But Hendricks d
idn’t fall. He had maintained his footing and now was angrier than ever. He charged ahead at Hunter like a raging rhino. Hunter had no doubt that he would be pulverized, but he wouldn’t be taken down easily. He braced for the impact of Hendricks’ body crashing into his.
The collision never came. A white blur flew violently across the room, landing directly on Hendricks and taking him to the floor like a deflated balloon. The thing howled in rage, a sound that was unnaturally loud and inhuman. Bits of cloth mixed with flesh and blood sprayed up around the two figures like a hail of gruesome confetti. Even with his great strength, Hendricks had no chance against this beast.
Hunter felt a wave of nausea wash over him and then he realized who the monster was—Lilith. She was naked and the scales had disappeared, leaving in their place skin covered with pale, white fur. From behind he could see that her once lustrous blonde hair now hung in only a few strands. Her feet had elongated into the hind legs of a quadruped, the toes ending in curved claws. Lilith had also gotten much, much larger and more powerful, a lethal combination of animal, human and demon. He could hear a low, guttural growl, like a wolf enjoying a fresh kill.
He was glad that she was facing away and so he couldn’t see her face.
As Hunter stood mesmerized by the scene, someone touched his shoulder and he spun around. It was a woman, one that had been part of the group that had brought Hunter to the apartment. Her name was Gabrielle Lincoln, or “Gabe” as everyone called her, and she was quite easy on the eyes—a tall, thin brunette with long legs and a red dragon tattoo on her left shoulder. She seemed to favor wearing tight-fitting jeans and T-shirts, which was okay with Hunter. But her deep brown eyes were conveying a message, a message of urgency.
“We need to get out of here while she’s busy,” Gabe whispered in her Australian accent. Hunter found it quite alluring and in fact had thought about talking to Gabe, if only he could get the image of that other woman out of his head.
“Why would we want to get out of here?” Hunter asked. “This is where we belong, isn’t it?”
The woman glanced at the back of the temporarily-occupied creature crouching over the broken and bloody lump of flesh that was Hendricks and Hunter thought he saw a flash of fear in her eyes.
Then he felt the cold barrel of a gun against his ribs.
“Move,” Gabe said.
Hunter looked down at the pistol and back up at Gabe. Left with no other choice, he walked toward the door of the apartment and away from Lilith.
CHAPTER 64
The USS Ford had finally pulled into port and now sat moored at pier eighty-eight on Manhattan Island, twin electrical cables as big around as a human thigh running across her deck and down to the pier where they connected to a temporary power station. With her now-functioning reactors and generators, the ship was supplying about two hundred megawatts of power to ConEd and the city. The Ford also provided the use of her satellite-based communications, as well as temporary air traffic control assistance for LaGuardia Airport, which had been severely damaged during the hurricane.
The Red Cross, several teams of medical experts and scores of volunteers were provided room and board in either spare staterooms or tents that had been set up on the hangar deck. The medical facilities on board the ship were practically full. Many who had lost their homes in the storm or who had already been homeless were brought aboard the Ford until they could be provided more permanent shelter in New York. The flight deck, the hangar deck and pretty much everywhere else on the ship was a flurry of activity.
Mac stood on the flight deck, peering over at the USS Intrepid Sea, Air and Space Museum and beyond that, the Lincoln Tunnel. The Intrepid, an old aircraft carrier, was huge, Mac realized, though not as big as the Ford. Several old jet planes and turboprops and a white domed building sat on its flight deck. Buildings lined the pier next to the ship and he could see that several had been severely damaged, mostly with their roofs torn off from the high winds. He wondered how the ship had survived the hurricane and figured its sheer size probably kept it from being demolished. He was surprised to see that the pier didn’t seem to have sustained much damage.
Toward 49th Street and across the Hudson Greenway Mac saw more broken buildings and washed-out cars. He wondered where Lilith was. She could be practically anywhere and may even have left the city, but he doubted it. In fact he was sure she hadn’t. She wanted to start her new master race right here in one of the biggest cities in the world. That would make much more of a statement—civilization brought to ruination by Lilith. But her plans to overload the reactor had failed and he knew that had made her furious. She would be out for blood.
He wondered if Hunter was still hanging on and how many other people she had brought under her power since leaving the Ford. Perhaps she now had a whole army.
After hacking into her laptop, Blakely had found an address for a brownstone apartment that Lilith had rented under the name Julia Lambert. Mac knew that was probably where she was—holed up there and working on her plans of domination and destruction. But Mac knew that if she wasn’t stopped soon, she and her kind—his kind—would repopulate the city. Once that happened, the fate of the human race would be sealed.
Blakely said the area for miles around the brownstone had been quarantined by the DOD. No one would be allowed in or out until Lilith was either captured or terminated.
Terminated, like squashing a bug or killing a rodent. But it was his sister and in spite of what she had become he still had some feelings for her. They had a history together, had lived together as children. He had watched her grow up, tried to be a good big brother, always watching out for her even though she probably didn’t care.
But he should have done more. When their dog Tater had died, he should have been more understanding, helped her find her moral compass. Then Daddy had passed away and she became another person, someone he didn’t even know. Mac felt like he had let her down and now it had come to this. It wasn’t fair. And it wasn’t right.
“Dammit, Lilith, why?” he muttered to himself, then headed off to a meeting with the CO.
CHAPTER 65
Lilith leaned over the dead and bloody form of Hendricks. She felt nothing in killing him. He was a Lilitu, but would never have evolved as she had. He was inferior. Over the last few days she had…changed. The growth was painful, almost more than she could endure, but she did endure it.
Now she felt strong, alive, as if she could do anything.
Nearly all traces of her humanity had disappeared. Lilith was no longer ruled by her emotions, but only by intellect and by animal instinct. Her senses had been heightened beyond human limits—she could hear the squeaking of rats and the crawling legs of a cockroach inside the walls of her apartment; she was able to discern one person from another from the smell of their sweat; Lilith could not only see in the dark like a cat, but she could see through walls and through skin, down to the bones like an X-ray machine.
Lilith found she no longer needed clothes. Her fur-covered hide was tougher than leather, yet resilient and flexible. Her claws were retractable and as sharp as razor blades, yet her fingers were still nimble enough to manipulate the smallest things. She also found that she was fast, as fast as a cheetah, and ten times as powerful. There was nothing on earth that could stop her.
Lilith surveyed the apartment. Hunter was gone and now she would have to find him. Hunter was her prize and she wasn’t about to let him go this easily. She would track him down with her heightened senses and make him her permanent slave.
She laid a clawed hand on the warm flesh of her belly and thought about the life that now grew there. Not just one baby, but dozens, maybe hundreds, and she would soon give birth to them. But not here.
She turned her enormous head and looked over at the door of the apartment. Hunter had gone out there only moments before. Lilith sniffed the air. He wasn’t alone. He was also with someone else…Gabrielle.
So, Gabe had betrayed her. Lilith had never trusted the woman. Lili
th raised a claw and marveled at it like a piece of grotesque art, turned it over, inspected it. An extremely efficient weapon, she thought. She would use it to kill Gabe—very, very slowly. She smiled, baring rows of razor-sharp teeth that glistened like ivory in the sunlight.
Lilith stepped over the wet, oozing mass of flesh that had been her former lover, then made her way to the door and out into the streets of Manhattan.
CHAPTER 66
Hunter walked ahead of Gabe as she held her gun at his back. She hated having to take him this way, but he had left her no choice. He obviously wasn’t going to go willingly. Now it was up to her to get Hunter to a secure location and administer the antidote for the parasites she knew now infected him. Once that was done, she would have to wait until he recovered, which could take up to twenty-four hours. Since the area around Broadway had been quarantined, she figured their best bet would be to follow Park Terrace all the way to Isham Park. She could sleep on a park bench and just wait for Hunter to return to his old self. Not the most desirable way to spend the night, but the most practical under the circumstances.
They walked along Park Terrace East, passing the apartments and businesses that lined the road, mostly five- or six-story red brick buildings with fire escapes at each level and a tree here or there. Virtually every tree had been toppled by the hurricane, smashing windows where they had landed on the buildings, busting down fences or caving in the tops of cars. Most of the power and telephone lines were buried underground since there wasn’t much room in Manhattan for utility poles. It was strange not to hear traffic noise, except for the occasional siren, or see any people in one of the biggest cities in the world.
