A much younger Mossy stood at the edge of the water. It was the lake, yet it wasn’t. He was inside, in a cavern, standing next to another man, both dressed in military uniforms. They were staring down into the black water expectantly, each holding a small flickering lantern. Other lanterns hung along the back wall of the cavern creating dancing shadows. The only sound was the splashing of water down the rocks and into the lake and the occasional shuffle or clearing of the throat from one of the men. Finally the other man, Tony Scibelli, spoke. “Do you think it survived the transition? The environment was very controlled in the tank; any number of bacteria in this water could prove fatal.”
“Nonsense,” Mossy snapped, “we exposed it to several strains of bacteria and also introduced amounts of lake water into the tank gradually. It survived.”
A sound caused them all to jump slightly. But it wasn’t from the water, it came from behind. A tall man, his face still hidden in shadow, emerged in the dim light. Yet they both knew who it was. They snapped to attention immediately.
“At ease, men,” the man said, his tone almost inaudible, echoing strangely in the cave. “Status, please.”
Mossy waited a moment, hoping Tony would answer but knowing he himself was expected to. “No sign yet, sir, but I’m confident…”
“How long has it been?”
“Almost four hours since the migration. We know from its behavior that it will go into a type of hibernation when stressed.”
“Pull it,” Mossy’s superior ordered.
Mossy was crushed. He knew the creature was fine, it just needed time to adjust to its new environment. “Sir, I think it’s a little premature…”
“Pull it, Scibelli,” his voice still low, but more commanding, impossible to disobey.
“Yes, sir.” Tony replied, moving slowly toward the water. When they had transitioned the creature to the lake, they had attached a line to it for just this reason. There was always the possibility their work would fail and the creature would not survive the uncontrolled habitat.
Tony stepped forward, his shoes disappearing into the dark water. He lost his footing momentarily, almost falling but managing to regain his balance with an awkward movement, one foot coming out of the water and then splashing back down.
He reached down and grasped the line, pulling hand over hand. Mossy watched as the slack line tensed then grew limp again. Soon the frayed end of the heavy cord dangled from Tony’s hands.
“Goddammit! Didn’t you check the line?”
“Of course. This is the heaviest line we have. I don’t understand…”
A sudden ripple caused each man to take an involuntary step backwards. A splash erupted closer to the shore, then a blur of movement. Tony screamed and fell in the ankle deep water, dropping his lantern; the flame extinguished with a hiss as it submerged. The shadowy darkness near the water’s edge became thicker with just the single lantern. Mossy moved closer to Tony, who was now thrashing wildly, splashing water everywhere, and still screaming. Mossy saw another black movement and suddenly Tony was jerked into knee deep water and spun around so that it looked like he was trying to crawl back to shore, his grasping hands unable to find sure grip as he was pulled in deeper. As soon as it had started, Tony’s screaming stopped, as did his struggling. The sudden quiet was worse than the deafening echo of the screams. Tony’s body went limp, doing the Dead Man’s Float on the surface of the shallow water, and then it was gone, pulled soundlessly under.
“I guess it just needed a little encouragement. Good work, Blaakman.”
Mossy was still staring at the spot where Tony had gone under. He couldn’t believe what he had just seen. Never in the lab had the creature been so fast and so vicious. “I think we should take termination steps, sir. We…”
The General moved closer to Mossy, towering over him. In his eyes, Mossy saw determination and victory. And something else. Something that looked a little like insanity. “That is not an option, Blaakman. Do you read?”
Mossy swallowed hard. The wrong answer would probably get him shoved into the water to join Tony. Knowing he was sacrificing something else to save his life, he answered slowly. “Loud and clear, sir.”
Mossy jumped to his feet and scrambled further away from the water’s edge. That was almost thirty-five years ago, he thought, it has to be dead. He squinted, looking hard across the water. It looked darker now, foreboding, even in the blinding sunlight. Mossy shivered, his body dripping cold sweat. The memories had finally come and now he was damned. All of the ugliness and pain and guilt knocked Mossy to his knees in the dry grass. His stomach recoiled and all he wanted was to be back on the streets of Boston with a full bottle and a head empty of these memories. He longed to splash cold lake water on his face, but couldn’t bring himself to get any closer to the edge.
(50)
Robert Ortiz finished typing the final portion of the incident report, put all the pages in a folder and walked it into Chief Crawford’s office. Crawford didn’t even look up as Ortiz dropped the folder into his IN basket. Ortiz shook his head and turned to leave, disgusted at Crawford for being too obsessed with Greymore to see what else was going on around him.
“What’s that all about, Ortiz? I don’t have time to read it right now.” His tone was abrupt, distracted. He still hadn’t looked up from the file he was reading.
Ortiz summarized the report, knowing Crawford would have it filed without ever reading it. “Eighteen-year old female. Cheryl Peroit. Medical exam validates her story that she recently gave birth. She is hospitalized with a severely broken ankle and appears to be in shock. Drug scan shows traces of alcohol and excessive amounts of cocaine. She was in possession of cocaine and there were a couple of cans of beer by the lake where she was found.”
Crawford’s head snapped up. “She was found by the lake?”
“A couple of fisherman came across her on the west side. She was unconscious and they were afraid to move her. By the time the ambulance got there she had come to. She went crazy trying to run into the lake, broken ankle and all. She was high as a kite. They had to restrain her and sedate her. I’m on my way back to the hospital to question her when she comes around.”
Crawford stood and moved around to the front of his desk, color rising in his cheeks. “That name rings a bell. I think she goes with one of Dale’s buddies. What about the baby? You said she had recently given birth. Is the baby okay?”
“That’s the worst of it, Chief. When she was flipping out, she was screaming about the thing that had taken her baby. That’s why she was trying to run into the lake. She said her baby was dragged off by a monster.”
Crawford stared at him blankly. “So, have you found the baby?”
“Not yet. We’re dragging that part of the lake and we’ve got a couple divers in. Her parents and her friends that we’ve found so far didn’t even know she was pregnant.”
“What! How can they not have known? Christ!”
“One more thing, Chief. There was also a ten pound weight found on the shore and some rope in her backpack. It’s possible she drowned the baby herself. We’ll know more either when she comes around or when the search team comes up with something.”
“Just what we fucking need right now!” Crawford’s face was beet red. He was pacing rapidly back and forth in front of Ortiz. “Get over there now. Make sure you’re there when she wakes up and find out what the hell happened. I’m going to go find Greymore.”