He didn’t answer. The others turned to look at him, as well. McCann tapped him on the shoulder and Simon finally stirred.
“Hmm? Oh, my apologies. I was transfixed by this relic. If I’m not mistaken, it dates back to before the Great Flood. These markings are distinctly Atlantean.”
“That’s impossible,” Novak said. “It looks brand new!”
“Craftsmen in Atlantis knew how to make things last. That’s why the city itself is still mostly intact, albeit at the bottom of the ocean.” Simon smiled sadly, and then added, “How ironic is that, given our current situation?”
“Atlantis,” Caterina said. “Are you serious?”
“Oh, he’s full of surprises like that,” Novak said, and then nodded at Gail and the open hatch. “Let’s go.”
Gail descended the ladder to the lower deck, followed by Novak, Simon, McCann and then Caterina. When they reached the bottom, Novak pointed aft. Holding her weapon at the ready, Gail led them forward. They’d gone through two compartments when they found what was left of Ben. Like Paris, the top of his head was missing, and his gray matter had been sucked out. The corpse of a starfish creature lay across him, and lumps of Ben’s half-devoured brain leaked from its gaping mouth. A fire ax jutted from the monster’s back. The head of the weapon had been buried so deeply into the beast’s flesh, that the only part visible was the axe handle.
“Somebody took this one out,” McCann said.
“Yeah,” Novak whispered. “Too bad they didn’t kill it in time to save Ben.”
“Don’t feel too bad for him” Caterina said. “He was in on the mutiny with Morgan.”
“Fuck him, then. Good riddance.”
“My thought exactly,” said a voice from behind them. It was punctuated by the sound of a shotgun being racked.
“Shit,” Gail said.
“Didn’t expect to see you guys again,” Morgan said. “Now drop your weapons… nice and slow.”
CHAPTER 65
“You must be Mr. Morgan,” Simon said.
Ignoring him, Morgan motioned with the shotgun. “Go on. You heard me. Drop your weapons now. I don’t have time to fuck around. There’s still one more of those things loose on the ship.”
“If there are more of those things,” Gail said, “then maybe we should put aside our differences and work together.”
“Teamwork?” Morgan snorted. “You mean like Novak’s talk of a suicide pact? Yeah, that would have been a group effort alright.”
Novak winced. “Morgan, I—”
“Shut up! I’m in charge here, and no, I won’t be working with you guys. You didn’t want to work with me, Novak. Oh, no. You threatened to toss me over the side! Or have you forgotten that already?”
“You left us to fucking die,” Novak countered. “Or have you forgotten that?”
“Maybe so,” Morgan said, “but you started this shit.”
None of them responded. The only sound was a small whimper from Caterina. Gail cursed herself once more for not knowing if her weapon was readied or not, and weighed the possibility of taking a chance. But if she was wrong, and a shell wasn’t chambered, she doubted that Morgan would give her time to try again.
“Now,” Morgan continued. “I don’t know how in the hell you survived, or how you got back on board the ship, but I won’t ask again. Drop your fucking weapons.”
“As you wish.” Simon knelt slowly, keeping his gaze focused on Morgan, and laid the trident on the deck.
Novak and Gail glanced at each other. Sighing, Novak dropped his knife. It clanged against the bulkhead. Gail was about to put down her shotgun when McCann shouted. He charged toward Morgan, bellowing with rage, the sword raised over his head with both hands.
Gail yelled, “McCann—”
The blast from Morgan’s shotgun drowned her out. McCann stumbled backward as his skull parted. His brains splattered against the bulkhead with a wet smack. His blood painted Gail, Simon and Caterina’s faces. McCann tumbled forward at Morgan’s feet, leaking onto the gunman’s shoes.
Gail swung her shotgun up and squeezed the trigger. The sound of the hammer was very loud, audible despite the echoing kill shot, but it was the only sound. The weapon didn’t kick. She’d been right all along. She had forgotten to rack it. Morgan had no such problem. He’d already done so after shooting McCann. She watched the barrel of his weapon swing toward her, and time seemed to slow. She closed her eyes…
…and opened them a moment later when Morgan screamed. Caterina and Novak shrieked along with him. When Gail saw why, she cried out, too.
The starfish creature had snuck up behind him, probably attracted by the sounds of the struggle. Now it towered over Morgan, its broad hands on his shoulders, and lowered its mouth over the top of his head. As they watched, it bit through his skull, neatly slicing off the top of his head. Morgan’s screams reached a feverish pitch as the monster slurped his brains out. He whimpered twice, and then went limp.
Before the beast could drop the corpse, Simon swept forward, snatched up the trident, and plunged it through Morgan’s chest. He threw all his weight behind it, pushing the weapon through the dead man and into the creature, impaling them both. The monster screeched, flailing both its human arms and its starfish appendages. Blood gushed down the shaft of the trident, slathering Simon’s hands.
“Novak,” he grunted, shoving harder. “Gail… help me!”
Gail dropped the shotgun. The two of them rushed to his aid, adding their weight to the trident. Together, they drove the thrashing creature against the bulkhead. It slapped at them with its hands, but they held firm.
“Push,” Novak yelled.
The monster’s claws raked across Gail’s forearm. She flinched, gritting her teeth against the pain. Then she shoved harder.
They kept it pinned there until it was dead. Then Simon yanked the trident free. Both Morgan and the starfish creature slumped to the deck. Simon gasped for breath as he turned back to face the others.
“Holy shit,” Novak said. “You’re in pretty good shape for a guy who was almost dead yesterday.”
“I heal quickly.”
Gail knelt over McCann. She had the urge to check his pulse and see if he was alive, even though he was clearly dead. She closed her eyes. The smell of blood and gunpowder hung thick in the air. She sensed movement next to her, and when she opened her eyes again, Novak was kneeling beside her. His cheeks were wet with tears.
“Why did he do that?” Novak whispered. “Why charge Morgan like that? He must have known it would be suicide.”
“He’s been acting weird for a while now. Ever since the island… monster… whatever it was. Maybe he finally snapped.”
Novak opened his mouth to reply, but sobbed instead.
“I’m sorry about Mr. McCann,” Simon replied. Then he pointed at Caterina. “You said there were two more people on this vessel?”
She nodded. “Mylon and Tatiana.”
“Well, then. I suggest you, me, and Gail find them, and make sure they are okay. And I recommend we do so carefully, just in case Mr. Morgan was wrong about the number of creatures left on board. And while we conduct our search, Mr. Novak can prepare to set sail.”
“We’ve got engines,” Novak said, standing up and wiping his eyes.
Simon smiled. “Then check the engines, Captain.”
Sniffling, Novak grinned back at him. “Can I find my flamethrower first?”
Simon laughed. After a moment, Gail and Novak did the same. Gail had a fleeting thought that perhaps it was wrong, laughing this way with McCann barely five minutes dead. But it felt good. She felt… alive.