Deluge: The Conqueror Worms II

CHAPTER 57

Gail’s eyes snapped open as she slid toward the water. In the darkness, the ocean was just a black wall. She couldn’t see anything of the creature that held her. It’s shapeless bulk reared up from the roiling surface, blocking most of the opening. She glanced down at the black-green tentacle coiled around her ankle. Its tapered tip flexed, burrowing beneath her pants leg even as the rest of the tendril squeezed tighter.

“Shit! Guys… help me! Somebody?”

She reached for the shotgun, but the weapon was too far away, and her hands slapped the damp, slick floor.

Simon, Novak and McCann awoke at her cries just as a second tentacle whipped into the room. It swayed back and forth, snake-like, and then darted toward Novak. Groaning, he rolled out of the way.

Gail scrabbled at the floor, trying desperately to find a handhold or purchase. Splinters of wood speared the soft flesh beneath her fingernails, but she barely felt the pain. Panicking, she grabbed the tentacle and tried to dislodge it. The appendage pulsated, squeezing tighter. Her ankle and foot went numb. She slid closer to the opening. Mist drifted over her skin, chilling her. She gasped, tasting salt and brine.

“Help me! Please, guys… It’s got me!”

Simon jumped to his feet, tore the suit coat from around his waist, and darted forward—naked. At the same time, McCann charged the second tentacle. He shouted nonsensically, brandishing the butcher knife, and slashed at the intruder. The blade cut deep into the flesh. Blood the color of India ink flowed from the wound. The appendage recoiled, whipping back and forth in the air as if frenzied. Then it lashed out again, going directly for McCann. The crazed sailor attacked a second time, plunging the knife deep into the tentacle. Grinning, he twisted the blade with both hands and then yanked it free. Black fluid splashed his hands and face. The second tentacle retreated back into the rain.

Outside, the creature moaned. The sound reminded Gail of the cries whales made in the documentaries she’d seen on television. She tried to get her fingers beneath the tentacle and pry it free, but the monster was too strong. It burrowed deeper beneath her pants leg, moving up toward her knee. She noticed a small trickle of blood on her calf and wondered where it had come from. Gail slid another few feet, and found herself teetering at the edge.

“Grab my hand,” Simon shouted, reaching for her.

Gail stretched her arm, and Simon’s hand encircled her. His touch was immediately reassuring, and despite her immediate peril, she felt the panic leave her. Simon braced his feet and tried pulling her backward, but the monster yanked harder, engaging him in a game of tug-of-war. Gail shrieked.

“McCann,” Simon yelled. “Mr. Novak. Take her!”

The two men rushed forward and grabbed Gail’s arms. Grimacing, Simon pulled the suit coat over his hands and arms, and then grabbed the tentacle around her leg. He muttered something in a language that Gail didn’t recognize. There was a crackling sound, and the air suddenly smelled of grilled fish. Then the tentacle uncoiled, freeing her.

“Pull her out of the way,” Simon ordered.

McCann and Novak helped Gail to her feet, and the three of them retreated to the far wall, while Simon knelt and dipped his fingers in a pool of the creature’s blood. He still used the suit coat as a makeshift glove, keeping the fabric between his skin and the beast’s fluids.

“Well done, shedding our opponent’s blood, Mr. McCann. This will prove useful.”

McCann nodded. “Whatever you say, Simon.”

“Indeed. It’s not whatever, I say, though. What I say next must be very specific.”

He moved to the opening and began chanting. Again, Gail tried to identify the language, but she couldn’t. As he spoke, Simon hurriedly painted symbols on the walls, using the monster’s blood as ink. Outside, the creature raged. Then, with a mighty splash, it vanished beneath the waves. Panting, Simon whipped his wet bangs from his eyes, looked at them, and grinned.

“It won’t bother us anymore.”

“I’ve gotta tell you,” Novak said, “that was some Gandalf-style shit, Simon. What did you do?”

“I prevented it from crossing the threshold. It can’t harm us or the building. The same can’t be said of its brethren, however, so I suggest that we spend the rest of the night in one of the other rooms. Agreed?”

The three of them nodded. Then they started down the hall. Gail had only taken three steps when her vision began to blur. She felt Novak grip her arm. He said something to her, but his voice was muted and she couldn’t hear him.

Then the world went dark.