The Secret of Excalibur (23 page)

“Damn, Cecil, the blast nearly broke our eardrums.” I yell over the booming explosion, holding my ears.

Dobie's mouth is open, ready to make some snide remark, when he's interrupted by Nichols' radio. “Admiral, Colonel Ferguson. The vibration has increased tremendously. Due to the noise level, we're falling back into the trees, but staying in combat range, sir.”

We also hear the noise he's referring to emanating from the radio, like a bass fiddle amplified a thousand times over. Then, I realize we're feeling the vibrations in the sand, and hearing the bass fiddle noise in our area, growing louder. In the light from the lantern, I see grains of sand jumping, like water on a hot griddle

Ruth grabs my arm, eyes wide with fright. “Arthur?”

Dobie yells, “Mother of God, did they self-destruct, or fire a damn missile?”

Ruth shakes me, yelling, “Arrrtthhurrr?!” She's pointing towards the sea.

Underwater, a bright, blue light radiates three hundred yards, past the Corvettes.

The Admiral jumps up. “What the fuck?” The rest of us jump up to see what the light is. “Torpedoes, or missiles?”

I yell, “No, it looks like a big floodlight coming from the cavern. See, the light isn't moving.”

The brass noise is deafening, and the ground is shaking as we stumble towards the shoreline. Nichols' radio is blaring words, but we can't understand any of them over the vibrating noise.

“It's like an earthquake,” Dobie shouts, wobbling around, trying to keep his balance.

We make it ten feet from the waterline when the ground shakes so violently we're thrown to our knees, or face down. I land on my knees, with Ruth clutching my arm in a death grip, as the bass fiddle vibration noise becomes louder and louder.

Sprawled out on the ground, face white with shock and fright, Dobie yells, “Good God, Arthur, they set off a missile, we're all dead men.”

Ruth yanks on my arm, nearly tearing it out of the socket. “Can I survive the nuclear explosion, Arthur?” she yells in my ear.

“You can if I can, kid, now hold on.” Which was a dumb thing to say, because she's on me like vise grips already.

Between the shoreline and where the Corvettes are anchored, the water blasts up like a volcano in bright, white light. Brighter than daylight and the vibrating bass fiddle noise is numbing. It blasts out of the water, roars right over-the-top of the Corvettes and, at light speed, takes off. Before the water splatters back down, it's just a speck way out over the lake, going up. Then the mass of moving light disappears and is gone.

The blast from the shattered sound barrier knocks us flat. My eyes snap shut of their own accord, as I fall holding my ears, feeling and hearing nothing. The shock wave made me numb, and I'm unable to move any part of my body. After an unknown amount of time, which felt as if it were forever, I force my eyes open to see the displaced water pattering back into place. I slowly become aware of some faint noises, metal on metal, but very distantly.

Turning my head, I find Ruth screaming almost in my ear, but she sounds far, far away. She's screaming, holding her ears and rolling back on forth on the sand, eyes tightly shut. Dobie is lying on his side and Nichols is lying face down not far away. I stare up in the sky, but there's nothing to see. The two Corvettes seem ablaze with a yellow, orange light, then it dawns on me they're on fire. It had passed so close to them, and at such high velocity, paint and all other flammable materials had burst into flames.

Lying on my back, staring up into the sky in disbelief, I think,
Sub hell. It was a UFO!
A UFO, here.
Even though I saw the ship, it was so bright and moving so fast I wasn't able to notice any shape, just a blur of moving lights.
A FUCKING UFO.

I begin laughing, then crying, then break into racking sobs like a baby, unable to stop.
A fucking UFO.
The sirens start in my ears. Because my body is shaking so uncontrollably, I can't raise my hands to cover them. The sirens are so loud my brain turns to mush. Intense bright light behind my eyes, then everything goes black.

Slowly becoming aware of my surroundings, the first thing I notice is the Noise. It's so loud it hurts, making my head vibrate with the unrelenting noise. HUMM, HUMM. I gingerly open my eyes to find I'm lying on my side, the lantern with broken glass and missing mantle not far from my face. I rapidly blink my eyes, uncomprehending.
Shouldn't it still be dark?
Yet, there's enough light to see by.
Shit. It's close to daylight.
With a pounding head, I glance at my watch; the face is shattered.

Ruth is lying next to me curled in a ball.
What's that position called? Oh yeah, fetal position.
She's sleeping soundly, breathing normally. Dobie is still on his side, so I stumble to him on legs made of soft rubber. He's breathing deeply. Admiral Nichols is lying, face down, and when I roll him over, I see his eyes are glazed, unfocused. With a disbelieving jolt, I realize he's dead, then try closing his eyes.

HUMM, HUMM, HUMM.

Stunned, in shock, I watch the waves rolling up on the beach, birds flying, even a fish jumping, but I don't hear a sound. All I hear is the humming. Shaking my head, with a sharp, flare-up of pain, I realize I'm deaf. Trying to get my bearings, I notice the two Corvettes are gone.
Why did they leave? Why didn't they check whether we were injured?
Looking closer, I notice objects bobbing in the water, all along the shoreline. Right where I shot the monster Northern of Ruth's yesterday.
Or was it the day before?

The objects are bobbing with the waves, some orange, some green. Horrified, I realize they're dozens of life jackets. I stagger over and into the water. The first man is a burned-out shell, bone showing through where the flesh has been burned off, mixed with the melted life jacket and clothing. The stench of burned flesh and hair is overwhelming, and it takes all my control to refrain from retching. The next three men I check are just as dead. Out of the thirty-nine bodies floating in the water, only two of them are alive, severely burned, with their clothes and life vests melted into their flesh. Fortunately, they're unconscious. Just imagine the amount of pain they'd be in if they weren't. I drag them as gently as I can up on shore, flakes of their burned skin sticking to my hands, leaving pieces of black flesh behind in the water and sand.

HUMM, HUMM.

In extreme pain, I hold my head. The noise is so loud I can't think. Kneeling by the two critically injured sailors, I try figuring what needs to be done.
Help. Yes, we need help. Now.
Looking around, I see the phone lying in the sand, and stagger to it. Dropping to my knees, I pick up the phone. Even though I can't hear anything, I punch the telephone number for the Lodge. I wait a few seconds, then yell, “Help. We need help. Men severely burned, send help. Hurry.” Because I'm not sure they heard me the first time, I repeat my message continuously until my voice breaks. I drop the handset, hang my head and begin sobbing again.

HUMM.

Feeling a light touch on my arm, I open my eyes. It's Ruth, singed hair, eyes swollen and red, nose red and running, she looks like hell. Her lips move, but I can't hear a word.

I say, “I'm deaf, Ruth. I can't hear you.”

With a deep sigh, she shakes her head, points to her ears, then to my forehead.

Telepathy. Boy, I must be really messed up if I didn't think of that
. *Can you hear me, Ruth?*

She jerks back, clutching her head, tears in her eyes. She slightly nods her head for YES, and with both hands, makes a sign for DOWN.

My telepathic message was too loud, but I'm finding it difficult to concentrate with this damn humming vibrating in my head.

Ruth shakes YES, YES, YES, then hugs me, long and hard. After a few minutes, she sits back on her heels and knees, then points up and out.

*Yes, I saw it. Did you?*

She nods yes, yes. She points to Dobie and the Admiral, then glances down at the phone, still in my hand. The handset is lying on the sand.

In her mind, I gently say, *I called for help, but I'm not sure if anyone heard me. Dobie is asleep, but Nichols is dead. The two sailors are alive, but severely burned. All the other men in the water are dead*

She starts crying again and hugs me. Leaning back, she wipes her eyes, then stares squarely at me. She points to me, then off towards the Lodge, then at me, then towards the Lodge.

In her mind, I ask, *You want me to go to the Lodge for help?*

She shakes yes, yes, yes.

I stare at our once lovely Gray Ghost, where smoke is rising from the engine, and half the paint is scorched from the body. Ruth shakes NO, and points again at me, then the Lodge. Again she points at me, then rubs her hands and shoots one hand towards the Lodge.

*Teleport? You want me to teleport?*

YES, YES, YES.

*No, I can't control my powers any longer,* I explain to her. “Besides, I already called for help*

NO, NO, NO. She holds her arm out towards our boat.

Shit. The satellite dish is a melted blob of plastic. Nobody heard me. How foolish.
I hang my head in shame.

She taps me, has that pleading look in her eyes, makes the OK sign, then holds her arms out to indicate all of us, then a fist. She again points to me, then the Lodge. She stands, reaching out to me. That's when I notice the blood. She's bleeding from her ears, blood dripping on her shoulders. I hastily turn her sideways to examine her ears, seeing a mess of scratched skin. She scratched herself and didn't notice.

She gently kisses me, takes one step back, then points to the Lodge again. I try to concentrate on the Lodge. Nothing but that damn HUMM. I can't even remember how to teleport. I shake my head no a few times, so she places her hand on my face. Standing tall, Ruth makes two fists, a grimace then pumps her hands up and down.

*Try harder?*

YES, YES, YES.

With all this humming in my head, I can't relax. I concentrate on the bar at the Club, imagining a whiskey sour, and BLIP! we're there. Ruth is tumbling over a stool. Grabbing her arm, I notice movement, and see Alyce throw a glass in the air, her mouth wide open, but I can't hear her screaming. Alyce slowly leans over and falls backwards. I don't hear her hit the floor either.

HUMM.

Quickly glancing around, to see whether anyone else is in the Club, Relman and two other men come rushing in, and freeze, mouths hanging open. Ruth sags against me, half unconscious.

I mentally focus on them, saying, *Help, weneedhelpnow.* I don't get any further before they hit the floor, gripping the sides of their heads, violently shaking.

Feeling Ruth shift around, I help her stand, telling her, *Thanks, kid, you're heavy.*

She punches me, gives a small, weary smile, then looks around.

*I was too loud with them,* I tell her, pointing.

Staggering to Relman, Ruth pulls him off the floor with strength I never knew she had. His eyes are open wide, hands tight over his ears. She looks over at me, gives me the DOWN sign, then points to Relman.

*Easy now, Relman. We need help at the cavern right away.*

He stares wide-eyed, openmouthed.

*Can you understand me?*

His lips move.

I hold up my hand. *We're deaf, Relman. Just shake your head.*

YES.

*Okay, we need medics and help. You'll need several boats to pick up bodies; there are dozens of them floating in the water. Commander Dobie's alive, but Admiral Nichols is dead. The Corvettes' have sunk. I'm not sure about the other ships, and I don't know whether anything has happened to Colonel Ferguson and his Marines. Because we can't hear, we couldn't use a radio to try to contact them. You'd better move fast, and keep a tight lid on this, or Dobie will have your ass.*

He glances at Ruth, then me, making a twirling motion with his hand.

*Choppers?*

YES.

*Good, but get moving.*

He turns towards the door, then back to me with raised eyebrows. With his hands he makes a motion like a ball, repeatedly. Or a heart shape.
A mushroom?

*No, Relman, not a nuclear explosion. What happened was something else entirely. Now, get moving, man, people are dying.*

He winces, and I realize I'm broadcasting louder. He takes off at a dead run, holding his head. Ruth helps one of the other guys off the floor, but the second man's out cold. With a sly smile, she points to the unconscious man, then to me, and makes shame, shame with her fingers.

Shrugging, I say, *Sorry, kid, I make mistakes too.*

She claps and shakes YESYESYES. With a grin, she stumbles to the bar, then leans over. She steps behind the bar to where poor Alyce is laying spread-eagle on the floor. One of her legs is caught in the bottle rack, the other leg in some broken glass, with blood dripping from a cut leg. Ruth shakes her head, glaring at me.

*Hey, kid, what happened to Alyce is your fault. You told me to teleport, and she fainted when we materialized.*

Ruth scrounges up a bar towel, draping it over Alyce's exposed panties and buttocks. She searches the back bar until she finds a bottle of brandy and some glasses, then strides to me, and from behind the bar, pours us a drink. Holding up her glass to mine, she clinks silently, then blows me a kiss and shoots the whole mess in one gulp. I do too.

Ruth finds a pen and some paper, writing, (What was it?)

Softly, I think to her, *A fucking U F O.*

She shakes her head enthusiastically YESYESYESYES. She writes, (What knocked us out? Sonic boom?)

*Yes, kid. Probably the loudest sonic boom felt by human beings. It could've caused the Admiral to have a coronary. Imagine, breaking the sound barrier while taking-off from underwater.*

She shakes yes, then no, then writes, (Did you get a good look at the UFO?)

*No, I saw a blaze of lights and flying water, then the ship fading out of sight.*

Ruth writes, (Yes, then the boom hit, and I was out.)

*No, kid, you were screaming your head off, rolling around in the sand. Then, you passed out.*

(I don't remember screaming.) Ruth looks at me with creased brows, chewing on the end of the pencil.

Very carefully, I think,
where have I heard that one before?

*Ruth, did you see the Corvettes?*

(No.)

*They exploded in flames as the UFO flew over them, and I swear the water was boiling in its wake. I can't imagine the velocity needed to make the water boil, kid, and from takeoff.*

(UN BE LI EV AB LE. They'll lock us away, Arthur.)

*So, let's not tell them.*

(Right, we're in shock and deaf, leave us alone. Do you think our hearing loss is permanent?) She looks concerned as she taps the end of the pencil against the pad.

*I really don't know. But my hearing hasn't improved, has yours?*

She reluctantly shakes No, No, No, then stares intently at me with a quizzical look and scribbles in big letters, (YOU CAN READ MY MIND. WHY AM I WRITING EVERYTHING?)

Bewildered, I stare at her for a few seconds before I palm slap my forehead, and break out in soundless laughter. That feels weird. I mentally focus on her mind, receiving twenty-two thousand impressions. *Whoa, kid, slow down or you'll blow a circuit,* I caution, laying my hand on her arm.

Smiling, she taps her temple so I focus again. -Let's go sit at a table, figure all this out, okay?- Her lips move with each word.

*Jeez, kid, you don't have to think that slow. I pick up the bottle and glasses and slouch in a chair at a table.

Ruth ducks behind the bar as I pick up the bottle. Standing, she slides out from behind the bar with the pad of paper, and a very unlike Ruth grin, even more mischievous than the dog food incident. Lowering herself into a chair, she puts the pen and pad on the table, and in her other hand has a wad of white cloth.

*What's that?* I raise my eyebrows.

With the biggest grin I've ever seen, she holds up a pair of white panties and taps her temple. -Let her figure this one out.- Laughter, in thought format, is different for everybody. Ruth's thought laugher is a blue/red color, and now I see plenty of it, as her face cracks up.

*Woman, you're insane,* I admonish with mock severity.

She taps her temple. –Yes, but you love me anyway, right?- I lean over and kiss her. She taps her temple. –Do you have to focus each time, or can you leave me open?-

*I have to focus.*

She taps. –Then, when I want to talk, er, speak, uh, whatever it is I'm doing, I'll tap my temple.-

*Okay, boss, whatever you say.*

TAP –Fuck you, sir.-

*Temper, temper, Doc. You're a lady, remember?*

TAP –The lady left on a UFO, sir.-

*As you wish, wench.*

TAP –God, Arthur, and we thought it was a Russian sub.- Blue/red. –Do you believe that, a Russian bloody submarine, and UFO, oh SHIT.- The blue/red color changes to gray, then she lays her head on her arms and cries, then starts sobbing, her whole body shaking.

*Let it go, kid, I did.* I reassure her, tenderly stroking her once luscious, auburn hair. *Several times, I think*

Her body is racked with sobbing, but all I hear is HUMM. HUMM. Not wanting to focus into the middle of that mess, I try to keep my mind busy. If she taps her temple now, I'll knock her out.

Glancing up, I notice Relman standing a few feet away. He begins to make signs like a pizza chef tossing up a pot full of cooked spaghetti and trying desperately to catch each strand as it falls.

I hold up my hand, gently thinking to him, *If you think to yourself what you want to say, I'll be able to hear it. Just tap your temple when you want to speak. Got it?*

TAP –Are you hearing me now?-

*Yes. Go ahead.*

TAP –There's a flight of six medivacs enroute, sir. Should be there in about twenty minutes. Can you tell me what happened? We can't raise anyone on the radio, or the phone.-

*No, Relman, I can't. Anyone left alive will be as deaf as we are, so the radio and phones won't be of use. What about the six ships Nichols stationed on the seaside?*

TAP –Nothing, sir. We can't raise anyone, anywhere.- He strides to a nearby table and slumps heavily in a chair.