“I see the fence,” David said softly, his face a pale smudge in the bobbing dark.
We’ll pass the dock next, maybe see the buildings as the land slopes up to the lighthouse, to the caves .
.. Water slopped at the raft, the sound of muted waves growing as the small craft rocked and shuddered. Rebecca felt her heart speed up. While she liked looking at the ocean, she wasn’t all that thrilled to be out in it; as a kid, she’d seen Jaws one time too many. She kept her focus on the shore, trying to judge how close they were, and felt as much as saw the land open up as the tiny raft slipped through the lapping waves. Maybe twenty meters away, the towering shadows of trees gave way to a clearing. She could hear water dashing lightly against the rocky shore, sense flat, open space on both sides of them now.
They had reached the compound.
“There’s the dock,” David said. “John, veer star-board, two o’clock.”
Rebecca could just make out the faint, man-made shape of the pier ahead of them, a dark line shifting on the water. There was the hollow, lonely squeak of metal rubbing wood, the small dock raised and strain-ing at its pilings. There were no boats that she could see.
As the pier slipped past, Rebecca squinted into the darkness beyond. She could just make out the blocky outline of a structure behind the floating wood, what had to be the boathouse or marina for the facility. She couldn’t see any of the other buildings from Trent’s map. There were six more besides the lighthouse, five of them spaced evenly along the cove, set into two lines that paralleled the shore—three in front, two behind. The sixth structure was directly in back of the lighthouse, and they were all hoping that it was the lab; they’d be able to get what they needed without going through the whole compound—
“Boathouse is wood, the others look like con-crete. I don’t—wait,” David’s whisper became ur-gent. “Somebody—two, three people, they just went behind one of the buildings.”
Rebecca felt a strange relief flood through her, relief and disappointment and a sudden confusion. If there were people, maybe the T-Virus hadn’t been un-leashed. But that meant that the buildings would be occupied, the grounds patrolled, making a covert operation impossible.
Then why is it so dark? And why does it feel so dead here, so empty?
“Do we abort?” Karen whispered, and before Da-vid could respond, Steve gasped, a sharp intake of air that froze Rebecca’s blood, her thoughts fluttering wildly in a spasm of primal fear.
“Three o’clock, big, oh Jesus it’s huge—“ BAM!
The raft was hit, heaved up and over in a fountain of churning blackness. Rebecca saw a flash of sky, smelled cold and rotting slime—and was plunged, splashing, into the turbulent dark waters of the sea. Water enveloped him, the icy, stinging salt burning David’s eyes and nose as he flailed desperately, lost and breathless.
• where is it—
He’d seen it, an immense and pebbled plain of flesh surging up from the black at the second of impact. The surface pulled at him and he kicked against the dragging depths, terrified. His head broke through to air and an ominous quiet.
• the team where’s—
David whirled around, gasping, heard a spluttering cough to his left.
“Get to shore,” he panted, turning in a circle, trying to find their position, to find the creature’s, cursing himself for a fool.
Missing fishermen, haunted waters, stupid, stupid—
The raft was ten meters behind him, upside down, disturbed water splashing at its sides. The force of the attack had thrown them clear, actually knocking them closer to land. He saw two bobbing shapes, faces between him and the shore, heard more splashing as another joined them. He couldn’t see the unnatural thing that had hit the raft but expected to feel the bite any second, the cold puncture of dagger teeth tearing him to pieces.
“Get to shore,” he called again, his heart thunder-ing, his legs heavy and vulnerable, kicking, obvious. Can’t go in, three, where’sfour?
“David—“
John’s terrified shout, from beyond the floating raft. “Here! John, this way, come this way, follow my voice!”
John started toward him as David tread water, propelling himself backward toward the rocky beach and shouting all the while. He saw the top of John’s head appear, saw his arms pumping frantically through the murky water.
“—follow me, I’m over here, we have to get—“ A giant, pale shadow rose up smoothly behind the soldier, at least three meters across, rounded and dripping and impossible. Time jerked to a crawl, the events unfolding in front of him in a slow motion dream. David saw thick, tapering tentacles on either side near the top of the rising shadow, saw a rounded slash in the corpse-colored slickness—
• not tentacles, feelers—
• and realized that he was seeing the underbelly of a monstrous animal that couldn’t possibly exist, a bottom feeder as big as a house. The black slash of its mouth hissed open, revealing clusters of peg-like, grinding teeth, each the size of a man’s fist. When it came down, John would be swallowed up by the massive jaws. Or crushed. Or plowed into the icy deep, a drowning meal for the creature. In the instant it took him to absorb the facts, he was already screaming.
“Dive! Dive!”
Time skipped forward and the beast was falling forward, arching over, its long, thick serpent’s body dwarfing the raft, its shadow enveloping the frantic swimmer. David caught a glimpse of bulbous, rolling eyes the size of beach balls—
• and it crashed down, sending explosive plumes of water high into the air, blotting out the stars in sheets of foaming spray. Before David could draw breath, a tremendous wave knocked into him, driving him violently backward through the bubbling dark-ness.
There was rushing movement, a sense of helpless speed as he struggled against the force that tore at his limbs, struggled to find air in the sweeping torrent. Kicking wildly, he surged upward through the liquid veil, felt cold air slap at his skin—and warm, human hands yanking at his shoulders. He inhaled convul-sively as his boots scraped against rock and Karen’s ragged voice spoke behind him.
“Got him—“
Staggering against the slimy rocks, David let him-self be dragged backward until he found his balance and could turn around. Wet figures were reaching out, Steve and Rebecca—
Oh my God, John—
“I’m okay,” David gasped, stumbling forward, his knees cracking numbly against larger rocks that his blurred gaze denied him from seeing. “John—does anyone see him?”
Nobody answered. He blinked away salt, reeling around to face the splashing darkness, the settling waves slapping at their feet.
“John—“ he called, as loud as he dared, searching, seeing nothing at all. His heart was as cold as his body, as heavy as the sodden weight of his Kevlar vest.
• no life j ackets, would’ve seen him by now—
He called again, hope dwindling. “John!” A choking, strangled voice from the rocks to their left.
“What?”
David sagged in relief, taking a deep breath as John’s dripping figure staggered out of the shadows.
Steve lunged forward, grabbing the taller man’s arm and helping him lean against the rocks. “I dove,” John rasped out.
David turned and looked up, past the sliver of pebbled, boulder-strewn beach to the darkness of the compound. They were at the bottom of a short, angled drop, in plain sight. The shock of the mon-strous fish—if it could be called that—was suddenly unimportant in the light of that realization. They were out of the water now.
Have they heard us? Seen? Won’t make the caves now, can’t stay here—
“The marina,” he breathed, turning south, “quickly—“ The team stumbled past him, Karen taking the lead, the others following close. No one seemed seriously injured, a miracle all its own. David jogged after John, assessing the situation as his aching legs carried him through the rocky dark.