The Tide: Deadrise (25 page)

One by one, the Skulls on the street turned and stared at the birds. One broke into a sprint. The others followed. Their bone plates rattled, but they didn’t let out their usual hunting cries. The first Skull pounced as the others drew near. It clenched its teeth around a bird. The flock took off but didn’t go far.

“Go!” Dom said. They ran across the now-empty street and tore into the dive shop.

The first Skull munched on a mouthful of white feathers, meat, and bone. The others stared sullenly at the birds, their eyes transfixed on the sky. As Dom had suspected, they’d learned that howling before pouncing meant their prey would escape. The Skull that had managed to snag a gull had only succeeded because it had adapted stealthier methods of attack.

They were definitely learning.

“Stay on your toes,” he said, probing the dark dive shop. He played his barrel between the shelves of equipment. “If they’re attacking birds like that, they might try the same tactic on us.”

They crept between the empty tanks, hanging wetsuits, and displays full of BCDs, regulators, and gauges. Fliers hung from bulletin boards advertising the next round of classes or week-long dive trips that would never happen. Dom instructed them to clear the shop before searching for salvage. He gestured to Miguel, and the Hunter moved behind the checkout counter in the rear of the store. Jenna covered his movements.

Miguel cursed suddenly, hopping back. He sliced out with his blade as Dom joined Jenna to investigate. A creature was crawling across the floor. Its lower limbs were gone except for the femur of its left leg. Near it lay a harpoon gun and another Skull. This one was dead. A harpoon was firmly embedded in its neck. A dried pool of blood surrounded the two monsters. Dom imagined the struggle that had taken place. The Skull with the harpoon through it had attacked the other, even gnawed off the other person’s legs. And in a desperate race for survival, that person had defended themselves. But the damage had already been done, their fate sealed.

The half-Skull dragged itself onward until Miguel lashed out again. He impaled the creature this time. Its claw reached for the Hunter once more, trembled, and then fell.

“Clear,” Miguel said.

“Grab a dive bag,” Dom said. “And start putting together kits. We need fins, regulators, BCDs, tanks, everything.”

“We got a problem,” Glenn said. “All the display tanks are empty.”

“Right,” Dom said, rubbing his eyes. “Glenn, you’re with me. Let’s see if we can fix the tank situation. Miguel, Jenna, pack those bags.”

“On it, Chief,” Miguel said.

Dom led Glenn down a short hallway next to a single bathroom. Pressing his ear to the door, he listened for any signs of lingering Skulls. There was no scratching. No growling.

“Ready?”

Glenn nodded, and Dom opened the door. Only a sliver of weak light made it all the way from the main room. There were no windows. The hairs on the back of Dom’s neck rose. He flipped on a barrel-mounted flashlight. Slowly, he swept the room. He felt hopeful at the sight of all the available tanks. Some had their valves off; those would be awaiting inspection and would therefore be useless to him. Most had intact valves, and he hoped he’d find some still holding pressure.

The attack came then. Quick and silent. Just as he’d warned the Hunters.

His heart climbed into his throat as the bloodshot eyes appeared in the flashlight beam. The mouth opened, and saliva sprayed out. Dom had only a second to parry the creature’s attack with his rifle. The impact sent the creature spinning into the darkness.

A hollow ringing and several thuds of metal against concrete came next as several tanks fell and rolled across the floor.

Glenn kept his beam on the monster like a spotlight. With one free hand, he dug out his knife. The Skull came at him, avoiding the light and skirting through the shadows. Dom tried to track it but lost the creature between the rows of cylindrical tanks.

“Where the hell did it go?” Glenn said in a low, urgent voice. Then he let out a yell.

Dom shone his light over Glenn. The Skull had its mouth clamped over Glenn’s right wrist. The man’s fingers twitched, and he dropped his knife. There was no way Dom could take a shot. Not in a room filled with high-pressure tanks and swarms of Skulls waiting in the street outside. He whipped out his knife and lunged. The blade sliced down but was deflected by the monster’s horns.

“Shit!” Glenn said, the Skull still clamped on his wrist. He swung the creature into a pile of empty tanks. They clanged and knocked against each other. One slipped from the chains holding them up next to the wall. It hit the floor and started rolling. Glenn stopped it with his foot.

A low growl escaped the Skull’s lips as it bit down harder. Blood flowed freely from the wound. The creature’s claws slashed at him, tearing large gashes into his fatigues and the skin underneath. Dom dove at the frenzied Skull. He tried to wrestle it away from Glenn, but with the Hunter’s arm in the way, there was little room to reach under the monster and slice its neck.

Glenn grunted and clenched his jaw. With his free hand, he picked up an empty tank.

“Stand back,” Glenn roared. He slammed the tank into the Skull’s head. A horn cracked in half. The monster’s limbs went still for a second, but its eyes remained locked on the Hunter with malicious fury. Glenn lost his grip. The tank clanged on the floor, and he fumbled as he reached for it.

Dom beat him to it. He hoisted the tank with both hands and bashed the Skull’s head. One heavy blow after another, he battered the creature until the plates and curling horns on its brow were no more. Miguel and Jenna rushed in, drawn by the sound. But there was nothing more they could do. Dom heaved the empty tank at the Skull one last time. Gore seeped through its cracked armor, and its jaw finally came loose from Glenn’s arm.

The Hunter recoiled. His face was pale, and he held his mangled wrist with his good hand. “Goddamnit,” he mumbled. “Can’t feel my fingers, Captain.”

“Hang in there, brother. We’ll get you out of here soon, okay?”

Miguel took out a syringe from his first aid kit. “For the pain.” He unwrapped it and stuck the needle in Glenn’s upper arm as Jenna started cleaning the wounds. Glenn remained stolid, though sweat poured down his forehead. He grunted when Jenna dabbed antiseptic spray over the injuries.

“Chelation?” Miguel asked.

Dom nodded. “Definitely.”

Miguel took out a second syringe and gave Glenn another shot. Jenna wrapped bandages around the injury.

“Going to need some stitches,” she said. “Don’t have a kit here.”

“We’ll take care of that as soon as we’re out of Quantico,” Dom said. “Grab tanks.” He eyed the air compressor and prayed they wouldn’t need to use it. Already a man down, they didn’t have time to slowly fill tanks with a noisy machine telling all the Skulls in the area where to find dinner. He checked the tanks with intact valves until he found a batch with tags marked FILLED. Lady Fortune had allowed them this small blessing. According to the paperwork accompanying the tanks, they’d been filled for a local diving certification class. The class had been scheduled right about the time the outbreak hit the East Coast.

With Miguel and Jenna’s help, Dom loaded the heavy metal cylinders onto a rolling cart and wrapped a chain around them. Before they left the backroom, he shone his flashlight over the air compressor again. Next to the hulking machine, there was a smaller diesel-powered backup gas compressor.

“Miguel, help me out with this,” Dom said. The two carried the compressor and placed it on the cart with the tanks. “Just in case.”

They wheeled the cart out to the front room. There, Dom helped Jenna and Miguel pack the rest of their supplies in large canvas dive bags. A glance at Dom’s smartwatch told him they’d found almost everything on their grocery list. There were just a few more items he hoped to find on their way back to the marina. They loaded the dive bags onto the cart, and Dom prowled to the store’s main window.

The pack of Skulls at the end of the street seemed to have grown bored with the birds. The street had either been picked clean of crumbs, or the gulls had become leery of the monsters. While most of the Skulls still remained concentrated a healthy three blocks north of Dom’s position, enough trudged nearer to make pushing a cart full of supplies dangerous.

“We need a new distraction,” Dom said.

Miguel eyed a nearby car. The front window had been broken into, and a picked-over skeleton was draped over the steering wheel. “I think I might have an idea.”

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M
eredith tried calling Dom on the comm link again. “Alpha, this is Bravo, do you copy?”

Again, she got no response. Worry filled her. There was no way to tell Alpha of their plight or find out how they were faring.

“The walls are probably too thick down here,” Renee said. “I mean, it’s supposed to resist bombs and radiation, right?”

“Makes sense,” Meredith said. “I just hope that’s the reason for Alpha’s radio silence.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Renee said, packing small cylindrical objects into a canvas bag. “Probably better off than we are.”

The Skulls continued to clang and crash against the huge metal door. So far the door still held, but they would have to face the monsters sooner or later. And given their luck lately, Meredith guessed it would be sooner. Renee handed Meredith one of the cylinders.

Meredith examined the label. “Guess we might as well see if this works, huh?”

Renee shrugged. “Unless you’ve got a better idea.”

“Nope. Let’s see what happens.” Meredith tucked the cylinder into her belt.

Spencer had his arms full of gas masks. “We’re going to need these.”

“Right,” Renee said. She and Spencer passed them out to the group.

“What about Maggie?” Sadie asked.

“We don’t have any gas masks for dogs handy,” Spencer answered.

“I can carry her,” Navid said.

As everyone put on their gas masks, Meredith eyed the heavy door. She wondered how many of the creatures would be out there waiting for them. There was no way to find out other than by opening the door.

She adjusted the strap of her gas mask over the back of her head and then checked to make sure Sadie, Kara, and Navid had theirs properly tightened. When the group was ready, Meredith took the cool metal cylinder from her belt.

“Says it should work within ten seconds.” Meredith’s voice sounded garbled through the filtered rebreather.

Renee nodded. “That’ll be the longest ten seconds of our lives, but we need to hold out. You three.” She pointed to Navid, Sadie, and Kara. “Wait right where you are. Cover us if things get hairy. The rest of us will set off the gas. Try to open the door only enough to toss a couple of these out into the hall.” She held up one of the canisters.

“And if it doesn’t knock the Skulls out?” Meredith asked.

Renee grabbed an incendiary grenade. “Same thing, except we burn ‘em out instead of put ‘em to sleep.”

Andris’s brow furrowed. “Even I am not a fan of setting a fire so close to all of this.” He gestured to the armory’s ammunition, grenades, and other experimental explosive devices.

“Me neither. But it’s better than becoming Skull food,” Renee countered.

“We can agree on that,” Spencer grunted.

“Ready?” Renee asked.

Meredith steeled herself and stowed the gas canister back in her belt. “Let’s do this.”

Kara, Sadie, and Navid settled behind the steel crate again with Maggie. Meredith and the Hunters rushed to the vault door, where they each found a handhold.

“Pull!” Renee said. She kept rhythm like a coxswain, yelling “Pull, pull!”

Under the weight of the Skulls outside and the Hunters’ efforts inside, the door started to move. With a bit more work, she figured they’d have it open wide enough to throw out the gas canisters. What she hadn’t counted on was the Skulls going into a frenzy.

“Stop!” Renee said. The Hunters ceased, but the door continued opening wider. Skull claws reached into the cracks, dozens upon dozens of bony talons. Terrifying voices screeched, shaking Meredith’s eardrums. Her limbs started to tremble at the overwhelming sound, and for a moment she forgot what they were supposed to be doing. She was jolted back into action when Renee yelled, “Throw ‘em out!”

Meredith and Andris approached the gap. The wrathful eyes of the Skulls stared back at them. She snagged the gas canister from her belt and pulled the pin. With her hand still depressing the safety lever, she cocked her arm back. She gazed over the gnashing teeth and knife-like claws of the Skulls struggling to get in. Their bodies were packed wall-to-wall. Andris, standing beside her, looked equally perplexed.

“Got to make room,” Meredith said, drawing her handgun. At point-blank range, she shot a Skull. Blood and bone fragments sprayed out. The dead Skull fell back, giving her enough room to throw the gas canister. Amid the unholy cacophony of the Skulls’ screams and howls, she couldn’t hear the hiss of the gas canister. But soon she was rewarded as tendrils of gray smoke drifted into the armory from the hall.

Andris followed her example and blasted a Skull out of his way before forcing a canister out. More smoke shifted into the armory, casting a dull haze throughout the room. The Skulls didn’t seem to notice. They squirmed and writhed. Their teeth snapped together, and their claws scraped against metal. They tore into each other as they climbed over their fellow monsters in a desperate attempt to get in.

The squeal of protesting metal grew louder. Meredith and Andris unslung their rifles and started backing away from the door. Gray fog now filled the room. The door at last swung open, now wide enough for the first Skull to scuttle through. It raised itself up, its arms stretched high, claws glistening. A menacing cry bellowed from its throat, and it charged Andris. The Hunter didn’t flinch but instead put two shots into the monster’s head. The Skull crumpled, cut off in mid-howl.

“Careful!” Renee shouted. But she didn’t need to warn the Hunters. Meredith knew they were already aware a stray shot could set off a chain of explosions in the experimental armory.