Kronos

53

The Titan

The glass in Atticus’s arms burned fiercely, but he tried to ignore the pain. If he were to pull out the shards, he’d only reopen the wounds. The coagulated blood around the slashes, along with the cauterization that had taken place when the glass had been heated by Trevor’s taser, had stopped most of the bleeding, and Atticus knew to leave the glass in place until the wounds could be sewn closed. Besides, there were more pressing matters to attend.

Atticus couldn’t see Andrea or Trevor yet, but he could hear Trevor’s angry voice carried by the wind. As he attempted to pick up the pace, he lost his footing and spilled to the deck. He didn’t think his coordination had been too affected by his injuries, but perhaps he’d lost more blood than he thought. As adrenaline pushed him forward, his body could be shutting down without his even realizing it. Atticus stood and wobbled, nearly falling back down.

That was when he noticed the odd angle of the deck. The slant looked slight, but grew more pronounced as the deck tipped inexorably to port. The listing Titan was taking on water.

Kronos had breached the hull.

Taking the ever-changing tilt of the deck into consideration, Atticus continued forward, though more slowly. His focus on reaching Andrea held his attention so resolutely that he didn’t hear the heavy footfalls or wet ragged breath approaching from the side. A heavy force slammed into Atticus and fell on top of him. Punches rained down next, pummeling his body.

Atticus looked up to find Remus, clutching his bloody throat with one hand and throwing punches with the other. His dark eyes revealed the mania of a man who knew he was going to die but would quench his thirst for revenge before giving himself over to the devil. Remus’s punches lacked the force they’d previously had, but they still caused Atticus’s beaten body severe pain.

Bringing his knee up fast, Atticus meant to hammer Remus in the groin, but connected with his backside instead. Unprepared for the impact, Remus leaned forward, which was just enough motion for Atticus to exploit by grasping Remus’s shirt and heaving him to the side.

Atticus clawed away and used the Titan ’s side rail to regain his footing-and not a moment too soon. Remus barreled toward him, arms outstretched, throat gushing blood. The man lacked a quick wit, but he could fight. Atticus had to give him that.

Quickly realizing that moving left or right would simply put him in the grasp of Remus’s thick arms, Atticus simply curled down into a tight ball. A tilting deck and forward momentum did the rest. Remus might have been able to catch himself on the rail, but his legs connected with Atticus’s body first and propelled him forward. His waist wrapped around the rail and his top-heavy form pulled him away from the deck and overboard.

To his credit, Remus didn’t flail or scream on the way down. Atticus watched him fall until he hit the ocean. Atticus thought that would be the end of him, but Remus rose from the sea and began slowly treading water, his eyes full of hatred. The man was a juggernaut!

Though out of the fight, it occurred to Atticus that the unstoppable Remus might still find a way to survive and ultimately escape. He couldn’t let that happen. But as a twenty-eight-foot shadow emerged behind Remus, Atticus realized his fears were unfounded.

As the shadow closed in, a massive dorsal fin cut up through the water. Noticing Atticus’s eyes were not returning his glare, Remus turned around. And then he did scream. A panic-filled wail shot from Remus’s mouth and slashed throat, but became muffled as Laurel’s massive jaws engulfed his torso. The black eyes vanished behind the shark’s nictitating membrane and the dagger-like teeth snapped down, cutting Remus in half. With a snap of his tail, Laurel disappeared into the ocean, leaving Remus’s lower half to bob in the water, trailing a coiled mass of intestines.

Wasting no time mourning for Remus, Atticus continued his journey toward Andrea. As he rounded the curved deck, using the rail to balance himself, he saw them. Andrea was crumpled up on the deck, a guttural scream escaping her lungs as Trevor stood above her laughing beneath his taser-armed glasses. While the charge was meant to incapacitate, the shock to Andrea’s battered body might finish her.

Atticus quickened his pace. As he got closer he saw an odd shape rise up behind Trevor. The black form moved slowly, cautiously, until it stood directly behind him. Then a face emerged.

O’Shea! He had been knocked overboard but must have held on to the rail and climbed back up.

In a flash, he reached out with both hands and wrapped his arms around Trevor’s neck. Still holding the glasses, Trevor yanked them back with him and pulled the cables from Andrea’s body. She stopped convulsing, but lay completely still.

When Atticus reached them, Trevor struggled to breathe as much as he fought to get free. The rail between his body and O’Shea’s was all that kept them from sailing off into the ocean.

Atticus knelt beside Andrea and checked for a pulse. He sighed with relief. She was alive and stirred at his touch. “Atti?”

“Don’t move,” Atticus said, “You’ll be all right.”

A confused look came across Andrea’s beaten face.

“Atti…”

“You don’t need to say anything.”

She shook her head and strained to talk again. “Above you.”

Atticus looked up and found the main gun swiveling above. The crew either didn’t know the Titan was sinking or didn’t care. Could their allegiance to Trevor be so strong that when he said to press the attack no matter what, they’d continue until they were all dead? Were they really that fanatical about him? Or perhaps they simply feared him more than death?

“You can’t do this,” Trevor hissed through gritted teeth. “You’re a priest.”

O’Shea tightened his grip, causing Trevor to gag, his face turning beet red.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you, Trevor,” O’Shea growled into Trevor’s ear, his teeth clenched in a sinister grin, “I’m not a priest.”

Trevor’s eyes widened with fear.

“Every sin you’ve committed will be taken to the grave with you, and the full weight of your evil will condemn you to hell.”

Trevor had never looked more panicked. His face shook, and his body trembled as he attempted to free himself from the avenging angel clinging to his neck.

As the main gun stopped, Atticus opened his mouth to shout a warning, but a savage boom sent the sound of his voice right back into his throat. Before Atticus fell to the deck and cupped his hands over his injured ears, he saw Trevor and O’Shea launched out away from the Titan by the big gun’s shock wave.

Though dizzy and disoriented, Atticus stood and moved to the side rail. He listened through the ringing in his ears for some wail of pain from Kronos. Hearing nothing, he hoped it meant that the shot had missed. Of course, his ears might simply be ruined. Looking over the rail, Atticus expected to see the bodies of O’Shea and Trevor being torn apart by Laurel, but neither man had returned to the surface.

Atticus’s breath suddenly caught in his throat. The Titan shook, hit by another colossal impact. Kronos continued waging his own war. His massive form rose from below and cut across the surface of the ocean, rising and falling with great undulations. Atticus could see several large, bloody wounds on the creature’s body. He realized that he and Kronos had a lot in common. They fought beyond the pain and injury-warriors both- but more importantly, they both fought for Giona’s life…and for each other.