Cryptid Quest: A Supernatural Thriller (The John Decker Supernatural Thriller Series Book 8)

by Anthony M. Strong

  “You want to take them back to base camp?”

  “I’m considering it.”

  “That’s a dangerous trek, given what we now know is lurking in the jungle.”

  “We don’t have a choice,” Decker said. “I say we get those people who don’t need to be here back to base camp, and then the rest of us return to look for Garrett and explore the pyramid. We left two of your men there guarding the production company people. They might come in useful now.”

  “I agree,” Ward said. “But don’t forget, someone is working against us. I don’t want to provide that person with an opportunity to take us out.”

  “We don’t know if either of the men back at base camp are working against us.”

  “We do not,” Ward said. “But right now, I don’t trust anyone. Besides, if we are going to track out of here, I’d rather do it with Garrett at my side. He’s a competent soldier. Experienced. We might need that.”

  “And if he’s dead?” Decker asked.

  “Then we find his body.” Ward sighed. “I’m not leaving a man behind, and that’s all there is to it.”

  “Fair enough.” Decker stepped away from the rail. “I’m going to see if the others are awake yet.”

  Ward nodded.

  “After breakfast, we’ll go look for your missing man.”

  “Sure.” Ward looked relieved. “But just the two of us. I don’t want to put any more lives in danger.”

  “Goes without saying,” Decker replied. “They can stay here on the ship until we return. It should be safe enough.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “You coming?” Decker said, heading back toward the hatch.

  “In a minute.” Ward was still staring out into the gloom.

  Decker nodded and started back below decks. He’d made it halfway down the steps when Ward called out to him, his voice laced with urgency.

  “Decker, get back up here.”

  Decker stopped and reversed direction. He scrambled back up the steps. “What is it?”

  “Come and see.” Ward beckoned to him.

  Decker raced across the deck and joined Ward at the rail again. He followed the commander’s gaze and spied a lone figure moving toward them on the dock below.

  Kyle Garrett.

  He looked the worse for wear, a little dinged up, but he was alive.

  He waved and made his way toward them.

  Decker stepped back, ready to go down and open the heavy wooden door sealing the ship off from the outside world. But then his eye caught a movement in the water beyond Garrett. The surface was bubbling and frothing, and Decker thought he knew why. A moment later, his worst fear was confirmed.

  A serpentine head broke the surface, followed by another, and yet one more. The Hydra had gone nowhere. It was lying in wait, biding its time until they tried to leave, or an easier prey wandered within range.

  And that new prey was Kyle Garrett.

  48

  Garrett stopped in his tracks and turned, a look of horror on his face. For a few seconds, he stood transfixed, as if unable to comprehend the reality of his situation.

  The massive Hydra towered twenty feet above him, all five wide heads now out of the water. Five sets of eyes observed him with steely malice.

  “Don’t just stand there, man. Run!” Commander Ward was leaning far out over the deck rail, as if he could somehow reach out and drag his terrified underling away from the looming danger.

  Garrett took a stumbling pace backwards.

  The Hydra lowered one scaly head toward the dock until it was at eye level with the soldier.

  Garrett fumbled in his pocket, never taking his eyes from the swaying head that observed him. When he drew his hand out, he was holding the Makarov pistol that Decker had given him the day before. He held it at arms-length and slowly backed away from the creature.

  The creature watched him for a second longer, as if it were summing the man up. Then it fanned all five heads out, rearing further from the water, before lunging forward with a deafening screech.

  Garrett pulled the trigger, aiming at the closest head as it swooped toward him.

  Decker saw a spurt of blood as the bullet clipped the creature’s neck. Not a mortal wound by any means, but enough to fend off the imminent attack. The head recoiled as if it stung. But there were other heads on the way, and Garrett couldn’t fire at them all simultaneously.

  He didn’t bother trying.

  Instead, he spun on his heel and took commander Ward’s advice, sprinting as fast as his legs would carry him toward the ship.

  Decker was already turning back toward the hatch. He shouted down below, hoping the others were already awake. If the dry dock doors gave way, they wouldn’t be able to stay on the ship. “Get your gear together. Hurry.”

  From somewhere within the ship, a voice shouted back. “Already doing it.”

  Decker recognized it as Rory.

  He reached the hatch and came to a skidding halt, ready to tackle the stairs. But before he could do so, there came a mighty crash from his rear.

  Decker turned in time to see the Hydra slam against the dry dock gates.

  They shuddered but held.

  The Hydra tried again, putting the full weight of its immense body into it. All five heads writhed and coiled in anger. It had lost a meal once already. It appeared intent upon not losing another.

  This time, the gates bowed and flexed inward.

  A spray of water leaked through.

  “I don’t know how long those gates are going to hold,” Ward yelled above the screeching creature.

  Decker risked a glance toward the dock below.

  Garrett had made it to the gangplank, but he wasn’t ascending. At first, Decker wondered why, but then he realized. If the dry dock gates failed, the force of suddenly released water would smash the fragile ship into so much kindling. And probably kill them all if they were still aboard it when that happened. Worse, the Hydra would now be free to pick off anyone who did survive.

  “We have to get off this ship,” Decker shouted at Ward. “Come on.”

  He turned and dove forward toward the open hatch, even as the dry dock gates took another shuddering hit. This time, the Hydra was not going to give up.

  From below, Decker could hear frantic scrabbling as Rory and the others gathered their gear together.

  Decker needed to collect his own backpack. He raced down the steps, had almost reached the bottom, when a final crash came from above. A sickening sound of splintering wood followed. Before he even had time to register what was happening, the ship jolted violently forward.

  Decker lost his grip on the handrail and tumbled to the deck, landing hard on his back.

  Above him, commander Ward fell through the hatch, swiftly followed by a roaring mass of tumbling water that washed him below. He bounced off the steps and landed on the deck next to Decker with a pained grunt.

  “We need off this ship, right now.” Ward was already pushing himself up. He reached out a hand and helped Decker to his feet. “The Hydra broke through the gates.”

  “I kind of figured that out already,” Decker said. “Everyone up the steps and onto the deck. Now.”

  He ushered everyone toward the stairs, then raced back toward the rear of the ship. He scooped up his backpack and grabbed Ward’s gear, throwing it to him. Ward caught it with a grateful nod and slipped his pack on his shoulders. Decker grabbed the M4 even though it was useless and tossed it back to him as well, then started back toward the steps.

  And not a moment too soon.

  The ship lurched and heaved, threatening to throw them all off their feet. Decker gripped the mast post and held on for dear life. Further away, commander Ward was bracing himself against a narrow bulkhead.

  Rory stood at the base of the deck stairs, waiting for Emma to ascend. He almost lost his balance but stayed upright, catching Emma’s hand as she lost her grip on the steps, catching her before she tumbled off into the gloom. He pulled her
back and helped her up and out of the ship.

  The others followed, scrambling up the stairs toward the open deck. First Cassie, then Darren Yates.

  Decker told Rory to go next.

  The archaeologist nodded and made for the hatch, just as another shuddering blow hit the ship.

  The bow lifted as the stern pushed lower in the water. Decker thought they would end up completely vertical, but the old vessel wasn’t built to withstand such a beating. Instead, it ripped in half.

  The Stern section fell away as the bow crashed back into the water. Splintered wood flew in all directions, threatening to impale the three men still left inside.

  Rory, halfway up the steps, cried out and almost fell before recovering and heaving himself up and out of the hatch.

  Decker risked a glance backwards and saw open space where the back of the ship had been only moments before. And in that jagged hole, weaving toward them with a look of satisfaction, one of the Hydra’s monstrous heads.

  “Rory. Get out, now.” Decker tried to keep his balance and lunged toward the steps.

  “We don’t have much time,” Ward shouted as he pushed through debris toward the steps, limping on his injured leg. “If that creature doesn’t get us, what remains of the ship will sink and drown us.”

  “I know that already,” Decker replied, watching Rory scramble up the steps. “You go up next.”

  “I’m supposed to be protecting you guys,” Ward responded. “Get up there. I’ll go last.”

  “Not a chance.” Decker grabbed the commander by his arm and pushed him toward the stairs. “Don’t argue with me.”

  “There’s no time for this,” Ward grumbled. He gripped the stair treads and started climbing. “You’d better be right behind.”

  “Where else would I go?” Decker ducked as the Hydra’s head darted toward him. The forward end of the ship was filling fast. The water was almost up to his waist. He grabbed a piece of wooden plank that was floating by and swung it as the Hydra darted toward him a second time. The plank caught at a glancing blow on the side of the head and bought him enough time to follow Ward up the steps.

  Soaking wet and exhausted, the two men pulled themselves out of the hatch onto the weather deck. Rory reached down and lent Ward a hand, helping him up.

  Emma, Cassie, and Darren Yates were already making their way toward the gangplank. Then they stopped.

  Emma looked back at Decker. “The plank is gone. There’s no way to get off the ship.”

  “Well, we can’t stay here.” Decker let Ward lean on him. Rory supported his other shoulder. Together, they hobbled toward the rest of the group, struggling to stay on their feet as what remained of the ship pitched and yawed. The deck slanted down as the interior filled with water.

  With dismay, Decker saw the gangplank was indeed missing. He glanced back toward the rear of the ship, or at least the space where it should have been.

  The Hydra, one head still stuck inside the ship, glared at them with the other four. It reared back, ready to strike.

  Decker felt the sway of the ship beneath his feet. He saw the dock getting closer as they pitched toward it. This was their only chance. “We have to jump.”

  “Are you crazy?” Emma looked frantic. “We’ll kill ourselves.”

  “And if we stay here, the Hydra will do the job for us.”

  “It’s the only way,” Ward agreed. He disentangled himself from Rory and Decker.

  “Wait for my command. When the deck pitches close to the dock, we jump,” Decker said.

  “I don’t like this.” Rory eyed the dock with trepidation.

  “Almost there,” Decker said, as the ship took another jarring heave to the left. He waited as the force of water sloshing in the hold crashed back against the hull, tilting the ship’s remains sideways. Then, as the dock raced up, it was time. “Now!”

  As the hull rotated in the other direction, all six launched themselves off the deck.

  The Hydra let out a frustrated shriek. Two heads darted forward, trying to pluck them from the air. Both missed.

  Decker landed hard on the dock and rolled, barely avoiding Rory, who landed next to him. He jumped to his feet in time to see the others scrambling up. Garrett quickly joined them.

  Decker looked over his shoulder toward the attacking beast. The Hydra had pushed itself out of the river and into the shattered remains of the dry dock. It slammed a head down into the already partially sunken aft end of the ship, crushing it. Wood and other projectiles rained down.

  “What now?” Rory screamed, holding his arms up to deflect the falling debris.

  “There’s an archway at the back of the dry dock. It leads into the pyramid,” Cassie said. “It’s our only chance.”

  “Then that’s where we go,” Decker said.

  But before they could move, the Hydra reared up, sending massive waves lapping over the dock and threatening to sweep them from their feet. And with it came the front quarter of the ship, still stuck on one of the beast’s enormous heads. It lifted the shattered hull out of the water, then swung its head sideways to dislodge the broken vessel.

  Decker watched in horror as the ship’s destroyed bow crashed into one tunnel wall, and then the other. Finally, with an upward flip, the beast freed itself from the fractured piece of hull, and tossed it directly toward them.

  49

  The ship’s bow section flew toward them. Or at least, what remained of it. The hull had lost its shape and was now more a tumbling mass of broken planks than a seaworthy vessel. The foremast had collapsed across the bowsprit, snapping off, and now whipped around, attached only by its frayed rigging. Barrels, boxes, and other assorted supplies and cargo now became deadly projectiles that rained down upon the dock.

  Cassie and the others were already sprinting toward the archway, ducking, and shielding themselves against the falling debris. Ward hobbled along, lagging until Decker lifted one arm and half dragged, half pushed him toward the archway, and the dark tunnel beyond. They knocked the ancient metal gate aside and tumbled through.

  “Lookout,” Emma screamed, as a barrel smacked into the door frame with a resounding crack, and ricocheted into the tunnel, bouncing around like some sort of crazy pinball.

  As one, they ducked, and the barrel flew over their head and off into the darkness.

  More pieces of the destroyed ship followed, most of it too big to fit through the archway. Decker glimpsed the foremast tumbling end over end. For a second, he thought it would catch just right to thread the needle of the tunnel and crush them all, but instead, it hit the wall next to the archway and came to a sudden halt with a thundering smack. More debris piled up, blocking the tunnel’s entrance like a cork pushed into a bottle. And ahead of it, swept along by the violent force of the ship’s demise, a surge of churning water. It gushed into the tunnel, riding up the walls like a tidal wave, and swept them from their feet, carrying the helpless group further into the darkness before receding as quickly as it came.

  The silence that followed was eerie.

  Decker lay on his back, staring up at the tunnel’s vaulted ceiling. Somewhere to his right came a pained groan. He felt a sharp pain in his back. At first, he wondered if he had suffered some dreadful injury, but then realized it was just a sharp object poking through the fabric of his backpack. He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked around.

  Rory lay sprawled a few feet away, face down. Nearby, already pushing herself up, was Emma. She looked like a drowned rat, with her hair plastered against her face and wet clothes clinging to her body.

  “Need a help up?” Ward asked, standing over Decker awkwardly, with his weight on one leg.

  “I’m good,” Decker said, climbing to his feet and testing his limbs to make sure they were all in one piece. “You’re in worse shape than me.”

  “Bah. I’ve suffered worse.”

  In most cases, Decker would’ve written this off as bravado, but with Commander Ward, he suspected it wasn’t. He gazed around the tu
nnel, accounting for everyone. “We all good?”

  “Took a nasty crack on the head when the water knocked me over,” Garrett said. “But other than that, I’m fine.”

  “Me too,” said Cassie. “Just bangs and bruises.”

  “I can’t believe the Hydra was waiting for us for so long,” Emma said. “If we’d tried to leave, we would have been goners.”

  “Everything in this jungle is too damn obstinate.” Rory picked up his backpack, which had become dislodged when the water washed down the tunnel. A broken strap dangled free. He slung it over his shoulder using the other.

  “What was that creature?” Garrett asked.

  “It was a Hydra.” Cassie was ringing the wetness from her hair. “A multi-headed Greek water serpent that was supposed to guard the entrance to the underworld. It was supposed to have up to fifty heads, although that’s clearly an exaggeration. If a head was cut off, it would regrow two more to replace it.”

  “Just as well we didn’t lop any of them off then.” Ward said. “Although I’m not sure how we would do that, anyway.”

  “With a gigantic sword,” Rory said, deadpan.

  “How are we going to get past it to get out of here?” Garrett asked.

  “We’re not,” Decker said, glancing back down the tunnel toward the archway, now blocked by debris from the wrecked ship. “That wreckage will be impossible to move. We’ll have to find another way out.”

  “Suits me,” Rory said. “I don’t fancy a third round with the Hydra.”

  “Me either,” Emma agreed.

  “Guys?” Darren Yates interrupted their conversation. “Has it occurred to anyone else that it should be pitch black in here, but it’s not?”

  Decker hadn’t noticed until now, but Yates was right. With the entrance blocked and no visible light sources, the tunnel should be completely dark. But it wasn’t. Even though it had looked dark from the outside, the tunnel was subtly lit by a strange, shimmering glow.

  “It’s the walls,” Emma said, placing her hand against one of the square stone blocks lining the tunnel. “They’re giving off luminescence.”