Infestation

- 11 -

“Maybe we should stay here, Cap,” Mac said. “We’re safe here, right?”

Banks looked out the window to where the creatures continued to mill around, almost aimlessly. They hardly looked threatening now in sharp contrast to the frenzy they’d showed minutes earlier.

Maybe Mac’s right. But twice now these buggers have caught me off guard. There won’t be a third time.

“The chopper will be coming down on our signal,” he said. “We need to make sure they have a clear pickup area.”

“Back up on the top deck?”

“Not good enough; they’ll prefer a bigger, more open space,” he pointed out at the forward deck, “out there. Our best bet is to cut the power and hope the beasties, isopods, or whatever the fuck they are, get bored again and bugger off. McCally, can you cut the power from here?”

The younger man shook his head.

“That was Briggs’ specialty. I’d need to get back down to yon control panel and see what’s what. Although I’ll tell you something for nothing, Cap; I’m pishing my breeks here at the thought of meeting one of those big fuckers down there.”

“At least it’ll keep you warm,” Banks replied. “Come on, lad. You’re with me. The rest of you, keep an eye out the window there. If they look like they’re getting frisky, make plenty of noise and we’ll get back sharpish.”

Banks led the way out of the control room. It had got dimmer again in the stairwell, cloud obscuring the sun making it gloomy and gray away from the windows. He switched to night vision, turned down to its lowest level and was able to see clearly down the stairwell. There was no sign of any isopods. He gave McCally the all-clear sign and headed down, the younger man following at his back.

He stopped when they reached the corridor, almost exactly in the spot where he’d met the Russian woman earlier. She was still an enigma he hadn’t cracked yet. He had a feeling there was more to her story he hadn’t heard on the Dictaphone but he needed time to talk to her properly, time he couldn’t spare right now. He had a feeling he’d need to sooner rather than later; she might have exactly the expert knowledge needed to get the squad safely out of the situation. It would all have to wait, for now. His focus had to be on the control panel and getting the infestation of creatures off the boat’s deck.

One thing at a time, Banksy. One thing at a time.

At least Svetlanova had already proved her worth with her assessment of the effect of electrical field on the isopods. He was annoyed with himself that he hadn’t seen the pattern in the beast’s behavior for himself; it wasn’t as if there weren’t enough clues. But he’d been focussed on the job, which he’d thought was the boat’s computers. As it turned out, the job, the woman, had come to him.

And now I’ve got a new job. I’ve got to get her back to the base; I’ve got to get us all back to the base.

He forced himself into concentrating on the space in front of his rifle barrel. The shock of losing Nolan and then Briggs, was still there, still thrumming at his nerve endings but his training kicked in, forcing the tension into something he could use, coiled and tight, ready to be sprung when needed. Later there would be recriminations, booze, and maybe even tears, certainly sleepless nights. But for now, he had a weapon in his hands, and there was an empty corridor and a waiting control panel on the deck below.

And if any of those fuckers get in my way, they’ll find the real strength of my determination.

He moved out, quickly crossing the corridor to the next stairwell, then heading down toward the engine room with McCally right at his back.

The short stairwell to the control panel room was as empty as the one above had been. Banks stood there for several seconds, listening for any sound from the engine room beyond but there was no splashing, no indication the big beast was still there; for all he knew, it might be the one he’d seen up top of the superstructure.

The one who killed Briggs.

He pushed the thought away hard before thoughts of revenge could overtake common sense and motioned for McCally to come forward and get to work on the electrical panel.

McCally pried the front of the panel off and looked at the wiring.

“As I said, Cap, this was Brigg’s party. I’m not sure what circuits he wired or shut off.”

“Just do what you can, lad. And be quick about it. Sooner it’s done, the sooner you get back upstairs for a cuppa and a fag.”

He left the younger man to it and stepped forward into the doorway looking over the gallery walkway in the engine room. He didn’t walk out onto the walkway itself but peered around the corner, making sure he was alone before announcing his presence.

There was no sign of the large beast but suddenly it was the least of his concerns; the water level in the flooded engine room was several feet higher than it had been. Judging by eddies and flows visible below him, more water was still coming in through the rent in the hull; flooding in.

The boat might be afloat now, but there was no guarantee it would stay that way for long.

He went back to join McCally.

“How long, lad?” he said, his voice a whisper.

“Depends. Do you want it off permanently, or just off now?”

“Just switch the fucker off,” Banks said.

“Sorted then,” McCally said and yanked at two wires. There was a flash, a spray of sparks around them, quickly dissipating. Everything fell quiet. The red LEDs denoting the power was on dimmed and went dark.

They both heard it coming at the same time; a click-clack and scratching of feet on metal, accompanied by a slosh of water as a wave washed through next door. The engine room wasn’t empty anymore.

Banks put a finger to his lips and jerked his thumb upward. McCally nodded. The younger man stood closest to the exit, so Banks let him go first and waited while the McCally checked the stairwell up to the next deck.

He looked into the well to see McCally give him an ‘OK’ signal from above. Banks was about to step out into the stairwell when the scuttling suddenly got too loud at his back. He turned to see the head, antennae, and front legs of a huge beast push through the doorway. Its body was too large to fit in the doorway but it kept trying to get at the captain.

Banks tried to back away but misjudged the position of the doorway and got trapped in a corner. One of the beast’s large antennae whipped through the room, as thick as a steel cable; it would snap his spine like a twig or cave in his chest if it hit him. He crouched tight in the corner, almost kneeling, giving a small target and finally got his weapon round to point it at the beast. The isopod chittered like a grasshopper and the blue luminescence on its underside sent out a shimmering aura, filling the small room with dancing shadows and the acrid smell of burnt vinegar.

Banks fought down a gag reflex, aimed for the base of the antenna, and fired three quick shots, the recoil shoving him farther back into the corner. The noise was far too loud and would surely alert any other isopods in the area to his position. But he’d got his target; the antenna hung, bent at the base oozing sickly green fluid, and the creature thrashed violently. The smell got worse too and splashes of the green goop washed the wall. Banks sidled to one side, ready to launch his body at the door if there was any chance of any splashes reaching him; he didn’t want to get any nearer to the stuff than he had to.

“Stay down, Cap,” a voice shouted above him and McCally came into the doorway. “I’ve got this one.”

“This is for Briggs, ya bastard,” he shouted and let off a volley, blowing the beast’s face into flying scraps of carapace and soft parts. Banks had to shift to almost between McCally’s legs to avoid being splattered in green. The blue shimmer on the underbelly faded and the beast let out an almost comical fart, then fell heavily on the deck with a thud before the weight of its now lifeless body pulled it back and off the gallery walkway out of their view. A loud splash echoed around them as it fell to the engine room floor.

A voice called out from somewhere above; Hynd had come down to the foot of the control room stairwell.

“You lads need any help down there?”

McCally called back up.

“Nah, the wanker’s dead. It’s sorted.”

“Then get your arses up here, pronto,” Hynd shouted back. “There’s something you need to see.”

Banks looked out the view window as soon as he got back to the control room; the forward deck was completely clear, the beasts gone as silently as they had come; even the top of the drill rig was clear of the large isopod they’d seen sitting there.

I hope it was you we got, you bastard.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” McCally said, but there was something else in Hynd’s voice when he replied.

“The fact the beasties are gone? Aye, fucking great. But it’s not what I wanted you to see.”

He pointed north. A gray wall, an approaching storm front with paler cloud tops towering impossibly high above loomed over the horizon, getting visibly closer.

“Well, that’s fucking marvelous, that is,” McCally said.

“How long before it hits hard do you think?” Banks asked.

The Russian woman spoke first.

“An hour at most. We had one come through last week and things got a bit rough but she rode it out okay.”

“Aye,” Banks replied, “maybe. But I’m guessing she wasn’t holed at the water line and shipping water back then.”

“We could make for the kayaks?” Hynd said. “Head for shore?”

“We’d be sitting ducks if the beasts came for us,” Banks replied. “Much as I hate to admit it, we might be better off here waiting for the chopper.”

The rest of the words were unspoken but everyone knew they were there.

Unless we sink first.

Nobody spoke for a while, watching the storm front edge ever closer. McCally left and went over to join Mac, making up a brew of tea on the stove and sharing smokes in silence. After a while, Banks checked his watch.

“Keep an eye out the window,” he said. “I need to check in.”

He took out the satellite phone, switched it on and punched the number.

“Check one,” he said when it was answered and the voice at the other end replied in kind, “Check one.” The line was immediately dropped but Banks was done speaking in any case. He knew there was no sense in giving any more update; none would be heard and the chopper was already on its way. He wasn’t going to be able to get it here any faster.

He switched the phone off and looked to Hynd.

“Anything?”

“A big bugger poked its head up over by the drill rig but as soon as you switched the phone off, it fucked off again. We’re still all clear.”

“Well, it’s something, anyway,” Banks said, then looked out the window for himself. Several drops of sleety rain spattered like hard pellets against the glass.

The boat’s hull creaked loudly and the vessel rolled several feet to port, then righted itself again. The storm clouds loomed to the north, a black wall getting ready to fall on them from a great height. The weather had already begun to ramp up.

Three more hours. That’s all I ask. Just three more hours.

He wasn’t sure they were going to get it.