Age of Monsters

by John Lee Schneider

  Today she had deigned to share the back with Jonah, granting Terry shotgun-seat privileges, allowing her to stretch her legs – but she couldn't relax. By now, Jonah knew enough to just leave her alone.

  Too late – she caught his eye contact.

  He braced for claws. But instead she held up her phone – an expensive I-pod that Jonah couldn't identify at gunpoint – its battery long-since dead, even if the networks somehow miraculously revived.

  “I don't even have a picture of him,” she said. “They were all in here.”

  Jonah said nothing – clearly it was a rhetorical remark.

  He only had one picture in his own wallet – his wife. Ex-wife. He never pulled it out – he didn't now – but he always knew it was there.

  He wondered if she ever thought about him.

  That was the thing when your wife traded up – it wasn't mutual heartbreak.

  Still, he kept her picture.

  Naomi didn't show it – she remained stoic as ever – but there was a subtle wilt in her shoulders as the coastal highway finally led them down the north shore of Arcata Bay, just opposite the town of Eureka.

  That was when they first saw.

  The residential community that surrounded the bay had been broken down into kindling and had burned – even the paving on the roads had been crushed into kibble.

  It was just like the swaths they had seen cut through the forest. In fact, their side of the water – the entire island-shoal that split the bay from the open ocean, was largely untouched – several small structures and boat-houses still lined piers on both sides – a number of boats remained tethered out on the water.

  The only structure of any size, however, that remained standing, was mounted on a small atoll perhaps a half mile off the beach – that new communications tower.

  But then Naomi pulled at his shoulder.

  “Look,” she said, pointing breathlessly out over the ocean.

  The sun was cresting, just beginning its slow descent into afternoon, and the glare over the water had hidden a naval destroyer anchored just beyond the atoll – perhaps another mile out.

  Naomi's fingers were digging into Jonah's skin – he repressed a yelp.

  “We've got to get out there,” she said, and actually started moving forward as if to head on down the hill on her own. Jonah was actually obliged to hold her back.

  She turned on him quickly, her eyes feral, showing too much white. After weeks of rigidly denying despair, a desperate hope had now lit her up like a sugar burn.

  Ariel joined Jonah, gently pulling her back.

  “Come on, honey,” Ariel said. “We've got this far. Don't go off half-cocked now.”

  Naomi allowed herself to be led back to the van, shaking her head, muttering, “He just better be there.”

  Ariel pulled them back out on to the road, taking the next exit down to the west docks.

  As they left the highway, the same overhead glare that had hidden the surviving navy boat also blinded them to the massive shape that rose up over the ridge behind them.

  Even at twenty-stories tall – even at twenty-thousand tons – the rex could move with surprising stealth when it chose to.

  Its green glowing eyes found the taillights of the van as it descended down towards the docks.

  Then it turned its gaze to where the destroyer waited a mile-and-a-half offshore.

  Chapter 31

  They found a working boat on the docks, where the west beach sported several boat-houses and even a small air-park.

  Jonah selected a large out-board – still a bit small for the open ocean, but he figured he'd taken smaller boats over rougher water – and it would hold all of them.

  Ariel clambered aboard, carrying Otto in his cage.

  Terry frowned. “What the hell are you bringing that thing for?”

  “I'm not leaving him. If they've got a shower and a bed on board, I'm not coming back.”

  Naomi posed on the bow, squinting out over the water.

  The ship was too distant to tell if it had power – or any activity on board.

  Jonah was basically a river-guy and as he steered them out into the open ocean, he was immediately aware of the difference in scale. It wasn't like the chop of the rapids – not even big rapids – he could feel the power of the water, as the sturdy craft rose and dipped like flotsom.

  As they passed the tower, he stayed clear of the atoll and the jagged rocks that surrounded it, before the coast broke off into the deep water. The tower itself, actually looked out of place, simply by virtue that it was still standing – the one spot the tornado had missed.

  Past the atoll, Jonah picked up speed. As they drew closer, Naomi stood up, shielding her eyes against the sun.

  “I still can't see anything,” she said. “It doesn't look like there's anything moving.”

  Jonah was about to tell her to sit – it wasn't safe – when the boat suddenly lurched.

  Naomi stumbled, grabbing the railing, and glared back accusingly at Jonah.

  Then the boat rose up in the water, as a large swell lifted them up – the outboard crested for one stomach-floating moment before dropping them back down again.

  Rather like something large passing just beneath them.

  “Did you feel that?” Ariel said.

  Jonah definitely had.

  “No,” he said.

  Glancing nervously at the surrounding water, he leaned on the throttle a little more.

  The destroyer lay just ahead. They could see lights. It seemed to have power.

  But as they grew close, they realized Naomi had been right – there was nothing moving.

  Jonah frowned. It seemed extremely unlikely under any circumstances that their approach on a naval vessel would be so completely unguarded. Yet, there was no activity at all.

  Naomi's face was grim. “Pull up starboard,” she said.

  Jonah obliged, sidling them up alongside the main deck. Naomi stood again, hollering through her hands.

  “HELLO! Anyone there?”

  Her voice echoed.

  The ship was a dead hulk in the water.

  Naomi turned to the others. “We've got to get on board.”

  “Wait a minute,” Terry said. “Are we sure that's a good idea? I mean, it's like a ghost-ship or something.”

  Naomi turned a dire eye in his direction, and Terry held up his hands, placatingly.

  They circled until they found a boarding dock with a ladder that led up to the rear decks. Jonah pulled them up and tied them off.

  The waves pushed their outboard roughly up against the steel hull – there was the sound of scraping metal.

  Without waiting for the others, Naomi grabbed the ladder and begin to climb.

  Ariel let out an exasperated breath. “Girl,” she said, but nevertheless, started up after her.

  Terry glanced doubtfully at Jonah, but nevertheless, dutifully tossed his shotgun over his shoulder, and followed.

  Jonah sighed, shouldering his own rifle, making sure the outboard was secure, before grabbing hold of the ladder himself.

  Behind him, Otto squawked in Terry's voice: “Are we sure that's a good idea?”

  Jonah paused a second, frowning at the little lizard, before he turned and began to climb.

  Chapter 32

  The ship appeared deserted.

  The rear deck was empty – and dead silent.

  “HELLO!” Naomi shouted again, nearly startling Jonah into dropping his rifle. Her voice bounced across the barren decks, but there was still no answer.

  Jonah glanced at her sideways.

  But the nervous light in her eye had receded as caution reasserted itself. She nodded, pulling out her pistol.

  The upper decks were all empty.

  It was not, however, as it turned out, a 'ghost-ship'.

  They found the crew below decks.

  The smell hit them first. Ariel turned and was noisily sick.

  Not a ghost-ship. A DEATH ship.

 
Pieces of the crew lay in the halls – dismembered, cannibalized.

  And crouched all over them, gnawing on bones, gorged, with bloody lips, were dozens of those little scavengers – Ottos – everywhere – feeding.

  “Now that,” Terry said, “is just a little too fucked-up.”

  He shouldered his shotgun and fired a blast at the nearest of them, splattering the little lizard across the wall – whereupon Terry proceeded to pump off five shots in a row, blasting as many of the little scavengers as he could before they scattered – buckshots ricocheted like shrapnel off the walls.

  “Jesus!” Ariel said, swatting him.

  Terry fired one last blast, shuddering in disgust. “I HATE those little bastards.”

  He turned to Ariel sternly. “That's it. When we get back to the boat, I am dropping that scaly little rat in the cage overboard.”

  They could hear the little lizards, skittering down the hall.

  “We need to find the control tower,” Naomi said. “If the ship's communications are operational, we can get in contact with somebody.”

  “Hold on,” Terry said. “There might be more of those things. Where's the control tower?”

  Naomi pointed down the hallway in the direction the Ottos had disappeared – smeared with charnel and bones, slippery in blood.

  “Of course it is,” Terry said.

  Jonah had never been on a military ship before – the necessity of efficiency of any sea-going vessel was taken to a claustrophobic extreme – they weren't following a hallway, so much as a tunnel.

  The overhead bulbs were motion-activated, clicking on as they entered each separate chamber – and the minimal lighting also allowed for a lot of shadows – nooks and crannies for skittering clawed feet. Jonah could hear minute chirps and squawks echoing through the corridor.

  Along the metal floor were scattered bones, some with clinging meat, and the odd patch of clothing or hair.

  They made their way past the crew's lodgings, following the stair-step ladders up to the next level into the infirmary, where the creepy-dark grime gave way to an antiseptic, back-lit white.

  The corridor led past several long, aquarium-style windows, looking into what appeared to be surgery units.

  Ariel made another observation.

  “There are no bones,” she said.

  Terry peered through the aquarium glass – the lights inside were already on.

  Jonah found himself wondering if they were motion-activated as well.

  Which would suggest the room had been recently vacated.

  He listened for scattering feet.

  Jonah was reminded of the Mary Celeste – one of those old naval ghost-stories – a ship that had been found floating deserted – fully-supplied with all its cargo – purportedly with food on the table and the fire still burning in the furnace – just no crew. With no clear explanation, the story had naturally inspired legends of sea-monsters.

  Of course, they didn't need 'legends' anymore, did they?

  The med-unit was also absent of the general disarray below decks – it remained clean and orderly.

  And as he looked closer, Jonah saw the counter along the back wall was stacked with vials of liquid, lined in rows, almost like an assembly line.

  The liquid inside glowed emerald green.

  “Now, what the hell are those?” Terry asked. “Plutonium-shooters?”

  Jonah, however, couldn't help but make the obvious connection.

  Glowing green eyes.

  “You know,” Ariel said, backing away from the window, “I'm kind of not wanting to be here anymore.”

  They all looked to Naomi.

  She glanced up – the control tower was two decks ahead. She wasn't stopping now.

  “You are under no obligation to follow,” she told them.

  Without waiting, she turned, climbing the stair-steps to the next deck.

  Not wanting to be there anymore himself, Jonah, nevertheless, began climbing up after her. Ariel took a resigned breath before following.

  Terry stood another moment at the window, frowning in at the green glowing vials, before turning to catch-up.

  As in the infirmary below, there were lights already on in the radio room just ahead.

  This time, they could hear voices.

  One of them was broken by static and carried loudly down the hall – rising and desperate.

  “.... Sir..., this is Major Tom Corbett... In he Sky... repeat, please... come in...”

  The door ahead was ajar – it looked as if it had been jury-rigged.

  Upper control-decks on a Navy destroyer were not supposed to be easily accessible – that was why you couldn't get there from the main deck.

  Naomi touched her hand on the door, pausing for just a second, summoning her nerve. She glanced quickly to Jonah, who was little help – he shrugged helplessly.

  Terry and Ariel were no better – Ariel was shaking her head in a silent 'No'.

  Naomi pushed open the door.

  The radio-room was like the med-chamber – a functioning unit, fully powered.

  Jonah could see radar blips, sonar, and every screen active.

  That desperate voice burst in again over the radio.

  “Sir! Please, come in!”

  And standing on the desks and chairs – over a dozen of them, stationed at each receiver, and at every microphone – Otto spoke aloud in a barking, commanding voice:

  “This is General Nathan Rhodes. Command override!”

  The desperate, broken voice blared back. “Sir, the coordinates are wiped... must abort...”

  As one, the Ottos turned to the intruders at the door.

  And then they spoke – all in one voice together – like several speakers playing the same song all at once.

  “Launch,” the voice said.

  The myna-bird, Jonah thought, didn't just mindlessly repeat sounds – they understood contextual meaning – that was why they asked for a cracker.

  This was a bit more than just contextual understanding.

  The Otto standing at the desk hissed aloud, flaring its claws. A moment later, the rest responded in tandem.

  Naomi blinked, jerking her head as if catching a whiff of smelling salts. For a second, she wobbled on her feet. Jonah reached to steady her, even as Ariel seemed to stagger as well.

  Jonah and Terry exchanged shrugs, feeling nothing.

  The little lizards hissed.

  Naomi blinked, as if having been slapped.

  “Otto,” Ariel said, her voice a whisper, shaking her head. “All along.”

  “Okay,” Terry said, shrugging her off his shoulder, “Fuck this.”

  He kicked the door open and started shooting.

  The shotgun blasts were explosions in the closed space. The first of the Ottos ducked under the desktop, while the others scattered.

  But a moment later, they hopped back onto the counter.

  The first – the one that had spoken into the microphone – was now holding what looked like a small pneumatic injector-needle – the sort of air-gun used to inject livestock when pressed against the animal's hide.

  Like the vials in the med-unit, the loaded chamber was full of liquid that glowed emerald green.

  The lizard turned to its fellow and pressed the needle up against its scaly, proto-feathered hide.

  The second little beast squawked as the vial emptied its full contents into the little creature's bloodstream.

  The other Ottos scattered as the injected animal screamed.

  It was a horrible, lingering sound – worse than a shot rabbit – both Naomi and Ariel faded back, holding their hands to their ears.

  The creature writhed and twisted off the desk, falling to the floor...

  … even as it began to grow.

  The warbling shriek reached a siren-pitch – whatever was happening, it looked like it hurt.

  In the space of a few time-lapsed seconds, the cat-sized beast was now as large as a small dog.

  By happensta
nce, the hooked sickle-claw was also now accordingly more formidable.

  The first Otto injected a second dose into another of its fellows. And then another – each injection with a soft 'puft'.

  Naomi was backing towards the stairs.

  “We've got to get out of here.”

  The other two injected beasts toppled to the floor, their haranguing warbles rising in pitch.

  But the first had gained its feet and stood, snarling up at them, its eyes already glowing green and mad.

  Claws outstretched, it leaped to attack.

  Chapter 33

  The thing tore into Ariel like a rabid dog.

  Ariel had her gun out and already aimed, yet it looked as if she hesitated – perhaps she was seeing her pet – even as the claws came for her throat and belly.

  It wasn't even like a predator taking down prey – the thing flung itself at her, claws in her face, the disemboweling sickle digging at her guts.

  She started to scream, but then her throat was gone, and all that came out were choking gasps. She fell over backwards with the thing still tearing at her with all four limbs and teeth.

  It happened before any of them could react.

  A second and forever too late, Terry pumped his shotgun and blew the creature off of Ariel's crumpled and twitching form.

  Terry's voice was as ragged as if his own throat had been ripped.

  “You BASTARDS!”

  He continued firing – meat splattered off the dead creature's body with each blast, even as it spasmodically kicked and twitched.

  In the radio room, the two other infected lizards had gained their feet and turned on them.

  Jonah threw his weight against the door, pushing it shut, but the latch wouldn't catch – perhaps disabled. Two heavy blows struck from the other side.

  He also distinctly heard the air-blasts of two more injections, and the following caterwaul.

  The door bumped open – Jonah shoved it back shut.

  Naomi pushed herself up next to him, even as one of the scaly faces tried to force its way through the gap. She placed her pistol against its muzzle and shot it twice.

  Terry was bent over Ariel's gutted body, afraid to touch.

  It didn't matter – she had likely been killed in the first few seconds.