by Zack Archer
My eyes swung down to the case. I tried to manipulate my fingers, but there was no way to break the hold of whatever was gripping me.
That’s when I noticed something vibrating in my pocket. It was the cigarette case the Turk had given me. The case had created the shock that took me down.
“I’ve always been three steps ahead of you, Nick.”
I lay there, curled up in a fetal ball as the Turk let up on the metal cube’s button. The electrical current vanished, but I still couldn’t move.
The Turk moved over and took two items from me: the cigarette case and the case holding the antidote.
“If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans,” the Turk said, his eyes dark, like a pair of sinkholes.
“How about we come up with a new plan?” I squeaked.
The Turk chuckled. “We’ve could’ve done some beautiful things together, Nick, but now…”
“You could help everyone out here. Us, the people in the city, the rest of the world.”
“I could…”
“I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” I said.
“That’s the point. You’re not supposed to.”
He pointed to two of his men, who grabbed me by the arms and pulled me up. One of the men grabbed my chin and forced it in the direction of the pool.
“I think it’s time for you to face your biggest challenge,” the Turk added. “It’s time to see what you’re really made of. It’s time to meet the Big Gal.”
23
The Turk’s men walked me around the pool for several minutes until I regained the use of my legs. The onlookers jeered and spit at me. I searched for Hollis and spotted her lying on a couch near one of the cabanas. Her breathing looked bad and I knew it was only a matter of time before she turned.
“Give her the goddamn antidote!” I screamed.
“I plan to,” The Turk replied. “But only after you survive a dip in the pool.”
The Turk’s men released me and I stood, wobbly, as Dixie stomped over, grabbed my arms, and maneuvered me over to the diving board.
“Slade, what do you think?”
“I think you fucked my plan up.”
I could’ve killed him at that point, but I had more pressing concerns. Like that fact that I, was being forced to climb the ladder to the top of the diving board.
Dixie then placed the metal halo on my head before wrapping one of the metal leaders around my midsection and locking it in place with several large clips.
“You’re about to see what it’s like to be digested,” Dixie whispered.
I wanted to headbutt her, but I didn’t want to risk getting shot. I’d take my chances with the gator.
The last thing Dixie did was a place a rusted butcher’s knife near my feet. She stood back as I, with much effort, reached down and grabbed the knife, catching sight of the alligator in the process. The beast looked as big as a small airplane as it floated in the middle of the pool.
The Turk whistled. Everyone fell silent. “You know the rules!” the Turk shouted. “If you’re in, place your bets!”
The Turk’s goons moved forward and just as before, tossed paper money, jewelry, and other valuables into a little plastic child’s pool overseen by the fat guy wearing shorts, a yellow bandana and little else.
“This is your destiny, Nick!” the Turk shouted.
“Destiny’s the name of a singer in a night club, asshole!” I replied.
The Turk laughed at this. “Any last words?”
“I sure hope the Big Gal chokes on me.”
The onlookers laughed at this. The Turk circled his finger in the air and Dixie moved behind me and slugged me in the back with enough force to knock me off the diving board.
I fell through the air in what seemed like slow-motion.
The alligator didn’t react at all which I took as a good sign and then the leader snapped taut, just as it had done for the woman before.
The alligator rose swiftly up out of the water and jumped at me.
I grabbed my knees and pulled my legs up.
The gator’s jaws snapped around the bottom of my shoe, wrenching it off of my feet.
“You’re going into the water,” Slade said.
“And?!”
“And when you do and that thing attacks you, go for the eyes first. It’s the most vulnerable part on an alligator.”
“I’ll do my best to remember.”
“They prefer to attack at angles. Make sure you swim in a straight line.”
The beast crashed back down into the pool as I placed the butcher’s knife between my teeth. Then I reached up and found a rusted carabiner clip that I grabbed and depressed. It broke apart in my fingers, sending me down into the water.
The pool was colder then I had imagined which turned out to be a good thing, because it shocked my body. The cold water forced me out of my daze and gave me what felt like a much-needed boost of adrenaline.
My bodyweight carried me toward the bottom of the pool where I snatched the knife from between my teeth and assessed the situation.
The gator was immense, but its extraordinary bulk meant that it was difficult for the creature to maneuver in the tight confines of the pool. Its tail propelled it through the water, but it rammed into the side of the pool. That’s when I saw something I hadn’t noticed before. Two chains, painted black and bolted to the bottom of the pool, holding the alligator in place.
The chains were just long enough to allow the monster to track and kill its prey, but not so long that it could escape the pool and threaten the Turk and his followers.
I decided to change all that.
The alligator swung back around to search for me, so instead of trying to make a break for the other end of the pool, I kicked my legs and swam toward it.
The gator looked right, but I came up behind it.
I wrapped my hands around the chain and the alligator sensed me because it began bucking, fighting to angle its colossal skull back to snap at me.
Holding on for dear life, I rode the alligator to the other end of the pool, standing on its back, surfacing to catch some air. I could see the onlookers shouting, laughing, enjoying the spectacle immensely.
I brought my knife down and slotted the blade into the rusted links of the chain. The tip jabbed the gator’s back and the thing thrashed violently, trying to dislodge me.
That’s when it happened.
The chain somehow uncoiled ever so slightly.
But it was enough to allow the alligator the ability to arch its head back.
I looked up and peered into the thing’s gaping maw.
I grabbed the chains and held them up defensively.
The alligator bit down on them and a portion of my hands. The thing’s teeth skinned my good hand, ripped away the metal nub in the middle of my pig-skinned stump, and chomped down on the rusted chain’s links.
I poked the gator in the eye as one of the links snapped, and one of the two chains fell away.
The alligator spat out the chain and bit at me again and I jammed my knife into its nose and poked it in the eye again. It felt like jabbing a grape. The thing roared in anger and heaved itself forward, before swimming to the right. I threw caution to the wind and churned off to the left, kicking my feet, swimming to the closest side of the pool, swimming in a straight line just as Slade had instructed me to do.
There’s an electricity that I’m pretty sure all living things, especially large ones, produce, and when I was swimming through that pool the water felt charged, the hairs on my arms and neck standing at attention. I could feel the presence of the alligator behind me and I knew that if I turned around, if I paused for even a second, I would’ve been dead.
A wave birthed by the gator helped push me forward. I grabbed the edge of the pool and climbed out just as the alligator followed me up.
The thing’s momentum carried it out of the pool and as I rolled over, gasping for air, I saw that it wasn’t stopping for anything. Slade w
as screaming for me to do this and that, but I didn’t have time to follow what he was saying. I was running purely on adrenaline, on instinct.
The remaining chain snapped off as the alligator crashed forward onto the concrete apron surrounding the pool. The devil was completely out of the water and looking for things to kill.
It lunged at me and I darted to the right, knife still in hand as the Turk’s onlookers panicked.
Some of them opened fire, wildly spraying shots as the alligator that inadvertently struck other people.
Creep running through the bedlam, I watched bullets slam into the Turk’s people. The wounded collapsed and the dead fell where they were shot. The alligator quickly went to work, savaging the injured and lashing out at anyone in sight. The monstrosity bit the leg off a woman and grabbed a thin man around the midsection, swinging him around like a rag doll.
Using the confusion to my advantage, I streaked ahead, fighting to remain inconspicuous when—
WHAM!
I was tackled hard to the ground.
Hands grabbed my head and slammed it into the ground. My eyes flapped open to see Dixie staring down at me, malice in her eyes.
Blood dribbled from her busted nose. “DIE MOTHERFUCKER!”
She thumped me in the face. One punch, two punches, then she brought both of her fists down.
I blocked the blow and speared my stump into her mouth, jarring loose a tooth or two. This forced her back as I rolled over. She grabbed for a rifle and I charged, lowering a shoulder, slamming into her. The impact knocked her back over a table, next to a pistol.
She grasped the pistol and brought it up with both hands, grinning, licking her lips.
“Lights out,” she hissed, finger around the trigger of her gun.
She suddenly vanished in a green, bloody blur.
The alligator had her by the back of her hair. Dixie screamed, pawing at the gator that tossed her up into the air and then bit her in half when she fell into its waiting jaws. The two sections of her body flopped onto the concrete, her mouth still moving, her arms flapping like she was trying to fly.
The others saw this and reacted, shrieking, firing at the gator, inadvertently buying me some more time.
I hid behind an umbrella, peering out, and spotted the Turk. He had his back to me, antidote case in hand, ordering his people to take the alligator down.
Emotion overtook me and I gripped the knife around the middle. I heaved the knife at him with everything I had.
The knife flew forward and rotated down like a curveball.
It struck the Turk, sinking deep into the flesh near his lower back, just above his hip.
He dropped the case and I sprang forward, grabbing it in my good hand.
One of the Turk’s men turned in shock and I jump-kicked the brute back into the pool.
“You need to get Hollis and a weapon,” Slade said.
A path flashed on my HUD, a route through the pandemonium to the cabana where Hollis was. I followed it, stopping at the table where my cannons were. I set the antidote case down. There were no metal darts for my right cannon, so I strapped on the one that held bullets and clutched the case, watching the Turk fight to dislodge the knife.
“You!” he screamed.
I didn’t respond, choosing instead to follow Slade’s path, dashing past him toward the cabanas. Along the way, I spotted the bear I’d given Hollis before and tucked it into a pocket. Then I entered the cabana and found Hollis lying on the ground, wheezing, fluid pouring from her mouth and ears.
Opening the case, I removed the syringe and pulled back the plunger with my teeth. Then I filled it with liquid from the vial and plunged the needle into Hollis’s arm.
Her body quaked and her eyes pinballed. I guess I was hoping for something more telling. A sure sign that the antidote had actually cured her, but I figured there wasn’t time for that. I packed the syringe and vial back into the case, grabbed Hollis’s arm, and helped her up. Shockingly, she was able to stand on her own.
“How’d the plan work out?” she asked.
“We’re still alive aren’t we.”
“You need to move, Dekko,” Slade said. “Now!”
Exiting the cabana, I handed the case to Hollis and squeezed off a few shots from my cannon. The Turk’s men had the upper hand. The gator was full of holes, bleeding profusely. In seconds they’d finish the beast off and coming hunting for us.
More images appeared on the HUD. Details of the roof, the surrounding area. It was clear that we’d have to either climb down the side of the building or jump from it. I didn’t like the thought of doing either, but we were out of other options.
We struck off toward the far side of the roof as bullets buzzed our heads and bounced off the concrete and tiki torches. Hollis grabbed a discarded pistol as we moved toward the edge of the building.
“Where the hell are we going?” Hollis asked, the color slowly returning to her cheeks.
“Straight down.”
We crawled over the lip of the building, grabbing onto one of the ladders that had been bolted to the exterior of the structure.
Hollis summoned up the strength to go first, moving at a glacial pace as I followed, cannon at the ready.
Down below us were the Dream Catcher wires, several boats, and a dozen or so onlookers who were staring and pointing at us. Our only hope was to head down, jump into the water and hopefully commandeer one of the boats.
“What’s the plan?” Hollis asked.
“Try not to get killed.”
One of the Turk’s men appeared up above us and I shot him through the forehead. Then another fighter appeared, then two more. I brushed them back with a flurry of shots, but one of them tossed a grenade over the edge of the roof.
Before I could tell Hollis to jump, the grenade exploded against the side of the building. Shrapnel filled the air and I took the brunt of it, tiny pieces of stone and metal shredding my face, as the blast ripped the ladder free from its moorings.
We held onto the ladder as it peeled away from the structure one bolt at a time. The ladder bent and we rode it straight down toward the Dream Catcher. The metal wires stopped our descent as the ladder slammed into the Dream Catcher, folding up. We were still hanging onto it, dangling over the water.
Eight feet below us was a boat manned by two of the Turk’s men. The guy behind the controls pulled an assault rifle out and I shot him in the neck. He fell back, dead before he hit the ground, and I swung myself down into the boat. The other guy dove overboard and I looked up at Hollis.
“JUMP!”
She did, landing in my arms. The light had returned to her eyes and her complexion had radically improved.
“It worked,” I gasped, looking from her to the antidote case. “The antidote worked.”
A series of explosions churned the water all around us.
The Turk’s men were firing down from the roof. Some of them were jumping, firing their weapons while tumbling through the air.
I took up a position behind the boat’s controls.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Hollis asked.
“Hell no.”
I sawed the wheel and throttled the hell out of the boat as we took off.
“Conjure me up a way out of here,” I said to Slade.
More images appeared on the HUD. A detailed map of the city and the canals. There was one blue dot on the map and lots of red dots, meaning there were a shitload of bad hombres in the area.
The boat zipped across the water, slicing between two high-rises with balconies. The people on the balconies opened fire on us and we ducked. Hollis dropped her pistol and grabbed the assault rifle from the man I’d killed and returned fire.
“WE’VE GOT COMPANY!” she shouted.
Glancing back, I saw three boats speeding after us.
A low murmur began building in volume, an intense humming, a vibrating sound that echoed off the nearby buildings.
Hollis pointed. “Drones!”
A cluster of the tiny machines lifted up from behind our pursuers, along with two larger drones that were two or three feet long. These were tossed into the air like javelins by the men manning the boats. Slade barked orders, telling me to pilot the boat this way and that. I followed his directions as best I could, but the drones were gaining on us.
Sparks twinkled on the underside of the larger drones as they fired tiny missiles at us. With a screaming whoosh, the missile sliced past us, slamming into the nearby buildings in a plume of fire.
Hollis planted her rifle across the rear seats in the boat and squeezed off a burst of fire that struck the two larger drones. The machines swerved wildly, one of them veering off into the buildings, the other one nose-diving into the water.
The other drones flew up into the sky. These were smaller and armed with what appeared to be single-shot weapons. They opened fire and two of the rounds from the machines struck the cannon on my good hand, disfiguring the barrels, rendering me weaponless.
I drove the boat hard down through a gap in the buildings. The noise of the drone fire and Hollis’s gun bounced off the walls and structures to our left and right.
“Get ready!” I screamed.
She looked back and saw a bridge approaching. I slowed the boat so that we drifted under it, sluicing into the shadows. The drones flew toward us and then circled in the air before streaking over the top of the bridge. Hollis moved toward the front of the boat, rifle at the ready. I cranked the boat up and it leaped forward as Hollis aimed her rifle.
The drones appeared as a flock in front of us and we let them have it. Hollis riddled the machines and what she didn’t shoot down, I jackhammered to pieces, running the boat right through them.
I hooked a right around a quartet of palm trees, then piloted the boat down under an overpass that had partially collapsed. We had enough fuel to last a good long while, but I didn’t know where to go. Our best chance lay in outrunning our pursuers and finding a place to lay low before we headed back to Sadie’s camp in the Everglades.
Hollis fired back at the pursuing boats, forcing them to veer off.
