Alex quickly headed down the steel corridor towards the hatch, and put one hand on the ladder railing. Franks waited silently beside him. He stared up the ladder, his sensitive hearing picking up the soft sliding weight moving above him. He felt the light touch of a hand on his shoulder, and Aimee turned him around.
“Programmed for destruction.” She smiled softly.
“I have to,” Alex said, not sure what else he could tell her.
“I know. Jack Hammerson’s monster, Hammerson’s weapon of mass destruction, take your pick, but it’s what you were created for. You can’t escape it.” She dropped her hand.
“You have to get out, for Joshua, and if I can give you even a small chance…” He sighed, feeling the pang in his chest, at all the wasted years without her.
“Make it back. I’ll be here.” She went to turn, but stopped, and then just stared hard at him. “Was it real? Did we ever truly make it out of here before, or have we been trapped down here for the last five years, like O’Kane, in our own version of hell?”
He smiled. “If you were here with me, how could that be hell?” He leaned forward to kiss her on the lips, but Aimee threw an arm around his neck, and pulled him close, kissing him back, hard.
Alex smelled her, tasted her, and felt a moment of dizziness as if he was intoxicated — and perhaps he was. At that second, there was nowhere else he wanted to be, and no one else in the world he wanted with him. He had found her again, and that was all that mattered.
Aimee then pushed him away, her eyes shining, the pupils heavily dilated. “Goddamn you, why do you have to be… you?” She turned and walked away.
He watched her disappear down the dark corridor. Alex didn’t want to go up that ladder; instead he wanted just one more moment, even just a few more seconds with her. But the submarine rocked again, and he knew what pursued them now would kill her in the most horrible way. She was worth living for, worth killing for, and if it came to it, worth dying for.
Alex knew she was right; it was what he was made for. He turned, seeing Casey smile awkwardly. She shrugged.
He pointed a finger at her. “Not a word.”
“Didn’t see a thing.” She saluted. “Good luck… fool.”
Alex sucked in a deep breath, and then went up the ladder. He spun the hatch wheel.
CHAPTER 59
The first thing that assailed his senses when Alex made it to the deck was the acrid smell. The biological ammonia was so thick in the air it was like a poisonous gas. He had to move quickly, and hope for a lucky shot. If he could target one of the huge eyes, he may be able to get a bullet into its brain. He had no idea whether that would kill it or even slow it down, but his goal was simple: make it back off just long enough for them to get the hell off the shoreline.
Franks slammed the hatch shut, and immediately the huge creature surged over the submarine. Alex fought back the urge to move quickly, as the massed tentacles rose around him. He saw they were whip-thin at the tip, but at their base they were as thick around as a freight train. There, they coiled and wrestled with each other like grotesque pythons fighting to be first to consume him. The submarine was now in among the Kraken’s nest of flesh, with most of its monstrous bulk still in the water. The huge sack of its head lifted, pulsating, and eyes the size of cars rose up to fix upon him.
He thought he saw it shiver, not from fear, but perhaps with eager anticipation of a new game. Alex could sense its intelligence — not quite that of a human, but certainly a cold intellect that was almost alien. Colors flared in bands as excitement rippled through its body.
Alex carefully raised the rifle. One of the eyes was turned towards him, rising ever higher. At this range, it was impossible to miss. He fired twice, dead center. The huge lidless eye quivered and pulled back, but there was no explosion of optic jelly, or even blood seepage. It was impossible to tell if there had been any damage at all.
Not a thing, he thought. One left.
He raised the rifle again, once more sighting on the huge disc of an eye. What Alex couldn’t have known was that behind the massive eye, the brain was protected by flexible cartilage — and on the monster before him, that shield was a dozen feet thick.
Alex’s neck prickled, and then came a soft, wet noise behind him, followed by a sensation of growing coldness. Alex turned to see the watery figure drifting up and over the railing, to then alight on the deck. Captain Wu Yang, looking expressionless, wet, and staring, his arms by his sides. Alex froze, knowing the figure wasn’t a figure at all, but another tentacle, stalking him.
So real, Alex thought. Yang’s face carried a tortured expression, like the man’s very soul had been trapped inside the animal that had consumed him. Alex felt hopelessness settling over him. As real as Yang looked, he, it, was just a huge pad, dotted with softball-sized suckers, each with a cruel hooked talon at its center. It seemed the creature had decided to play with its food before it struck.
Alex carefully eased the gun around, but knew that as much as he wanted to fire point-blank between Yang’s eyes, it would be like trying to stop an elephant by jabbing its toe with a toothpick. Beside him, he saw the periscope lens swivel towards Yang. He imagined Casey cursing her usual curses, and he hoped his orders held, or she’d be beside him, fighting to a sure death, in another few seconds.
Indecision wracked him. He could think of only one insane option, to dive over the side. But that would be into about six or more feet of water, where the huge cephalopod was king — he’d last about six seconds. He waited, as Yang glided a little closer, the thing’s face slack, urging him to make a move. It was so lifelike that Alex almost felt compelled to talk to him.
He turned his head at a glacial speed, to do so any faster would invite attack. He could see the massive bulk of the Kraken still in the water. Now both its white, goat-slit eyes watched him intently. He bet it’d be smiling if it could. Its colossal size and strength meant they never really stood a chance. It dwarfed the submarine, and he didn’t doubt for a second that if it wanted to, it could rip the steel hull apart to get at the tender morsels inside.
Yang glided so close, Alex could see the cold aura of death surrounding the thing, and the stink made his eyes stream.
Alex stood absolutely still, waiting. Another tentacle tip edged over the railing towards him, and the tip alighted on one of his arms. The cold sliminess was immediately replaced by fire, as he felt the suckers engage, penetrating even his toughened suit. The tooth-rimmed discs felt like they were searing down into his flesh. He remembered Aimee telling him years ago that the cephalopods could taste their food this way.
I don’t want to end up like Yang, he thought, his mind whirling, but with zero options. He worked to ignore the fire on his arm that now snaked up to his shoulder, and tried to separate his mind from his body, preparing for the bloody annihilation he knew would surely come. From the corner of his eye he saw movement, and easing his head around, saw that there were hundreds of tiny pale figures standing on the jutting ledges and broken balconies of the fallen city. Like stadium crowds at a football game, the barrackers were all there, and he bet his side was not the local team.
Alex felt his armored suit being slowly stripped away and knew his flesh would soon follow. He calmed himself, and then saw her: she was out at front, smaller than the rest and she lifted her mask free, the glossy oil-black eyes watching him.
Help us, he mouthed.
The tiny woman’s head titled, and he had no idea whether she heard, understood, or even cared about his fate.