I cannot imagine the bravery and fortitude of those men who had nothing but fists and wits but did not hesitate to defend their women and children from anything that might come. In other circumstances, it would have been enjoyable to see how trials made heroes of men.
The woman who barely knew French sat back with a small child in her arms and waved everything away. I did not know the words, but I was aware of their meaning: she was too tired and raw to think about what happened.
Another woman tried to tell the story.
Stead and Daniels gathered blankets. They took a few minutes to rest and drink from a pot of hot tea in one of the lounges before going any farther.
Someone had made the tea and left it with cups, sugar, a pitcher of milk, and lemon. Daniels, just as he had trained in true British spirit, wanted everyone to share cups, and to drink.
We did not understand all of the words from the woman who explained she was from Egypt or somewhere in the Mediterranean. Her words made no sense to us, but using her hands and face, she explained. She nodded and smiled a little when she realized we understood that Daniels had been adamant about the tea.
All was not all right. As they wrapped themselves in blankets and drank the warm tea, some smaller worms appeared, ones with many legs, and I think, perhaps, chitinous bodies. They stood straight up, and many of the women and children screamed with terrible fear.
Lilia, or so we called her, held her ears to show the creatures made a terrible noise, like rats or mice squealing. She pantomimed that the sound hurt her ears terribly and made some of the women run away. Everyone panicked, but those who ran away, flew right into the rising waters.
“And the vermis… worms,” I said as I made the motions of a worm crawling, “they came from dry areas?”
Lilia finally understood and nodded; the worms came from the dry areas. That meant the monsters did not rely on water to appear. She showed us that in the water were small but vicious fish that attacked those who ran that way. To my astonishment, her description of the fish was horribly familiar.
Jenny frowned, “Does that not sound like….”
“It does,” John Morton agreed. He motioned for Lilia to slow down and use her hands to describe the fish again.
She took my arm and used my skin as a kind of paper with her finger as the pencil. Making sure we were watching, she traced the shape slowly upon my flesh, and besides seeing the shape take form, I could feel it. I admit it gave me chills.
She drew a jutting snout, a slim-lined body topped with an over-sized dorsal fin, a slender lower half, and a sharp-finned tail, muscular and strong. When she knew we understood the shape, she drew an eye with her finger, a simple dot that she made by pressing hard into my skin. She meant that it was very dark, very plain, and most frightening.
The eye was dead looking and evil.
Lilia pointed to the mouth or where it would be if she had left indelible marks behind. She brushed my arm as if erasing the fish. Now, she drew a mouth full of sharp teeth, rows and rows on each jaw.
“How long?” John Morton asked her, spreading his arms and looking puzzled.
Lilia nodded she understood. She held her hands to show something a little less than a yard long. We nodded we understood what had attacked those who ran into the water. She made it clear that there were many of the small sharks.
“What of the worms?” Jenny asked, her eyes huge.
“We have another,” Peter Cavendar called. While we were catching up, Jenny’s father and several others were rescuing those who had fallen into the cold water and were alive, calling for help.
At first, there was groaning-buzz as many moaned and called for help, but it settled into a weak throb of sound, deep and somewhat like the lowing of cattle.
With much effort, we understood that at first there were a few worms, half as tall as a man, but more came, one that was taller and thicker. They stood erect and waved their legs, but a few of the men used chairs and table legs to fight the things, breaking off legs like tiny twigs and pounding at the strong shells of their body segments. The worms bled a disgusting fluid that smelled like death and putrescence.
The screams of the dying worms were like a baby wailing with pain.
One of the women and two of the men used broken glass to slash their own arms or throats. They slumped to the floor in a puddle of their own warm blood because they could not bear the sounds any more. Stead and Daniels gathered the rest, and they ran, locking gates behind them when they found survivors.
One of the women suffered a sting by a worm as they ran. Stead knocked it away from her, and Daniels smashed it to a pulp, but the woman fainted with horror.
“What happened to her?” Jenny asked.
Lilia pointed to her own arm, made a motion like a barb going into her skin, and pretended to faint. She pointed to John and made motions as if he were picking someone up to carry her.
“A man carried the injured woman to the next deck,” John said.
We understood the gate was locked and that they again had to rest as they climbed and struggled with all the children. Some of the women and men with them were carried as they had suffered broken legs, ribs, and arms in the fight against the worm-creatures. Using their bodies, the biggest worms violently knocked people into the walls.
“Did anyone survive the small sharks?” I asked, using my hands.
Lilia shook her head. She made biting motions with one hand and used her other arm, legs, and body to show that all who ran into the water were bitten and eaten alive.
She described a final attack by things we could not quite comprehend, but it was not a lack of language skills or Lilia’s fault; the things were so terrible that if one did not see them, then they could not be imagined.
It seemed the beasts were four legged, but of a bird-like type. Lilia could not explain what they had other than feathers because she did not, of course, understand them. It was perhaps fungus or fur or maybe nothing that we have a name for.
They had something on their heads not unlike small horns, but certainly not that simplistic. For mouths, they had large beaks full of tiny, sharp teeth, but the creatures were no larger than a fat duck. Luckily, they were easy to dispatch and of no more trouble than large rats.
The woman who had been stung was the concern now.
Lilia shuddered and wept, but she put her arms by her sides and showed us a sort of melting or fusing. She did the same with her legs. Then, with her fingers, she mimicked little legs creeping forth.
“No,” Jenny said, shaking her head almost violently.
John hugged her close to his side and said, “Shhh. It’s okay.”
“Howard, make her explain. That is… I cannot accept that. What happened to the woman who was stung?”
“Lilia… slower….” Was all I could think to say.
Lilia showed us again. It was clear that she meant the legs had fused, and the arms had become one with the woman’s torso. We understood that something like legs appeared and wriggled disgustingly.
“And her head?” I asked.
Lilia sighed, closing her eyes for a second. She pressed her hands over her own face, as if wiping away her nose and moving her eyes. Then she shrugged and explained that they had all run with Mr. Stead and Mr. Daniels. The woman’s oldest son stayed behind, and Lilia knew nothing more about the injured woman and her son. They made their way to the boat deck.
“What does it mean?” Jenny demanded.
“The poison must have caused great changes. We are assuming the worst because it could be possible, we think, that maybe the skin weakened and infused itself.” “Do not even think the worst,” I said.