The Tide (Tide Series Book 1) (9 page)

Dom bent and picked up a set of night-vision goggles complete with a camera. He surveyed the room again. “This must be where the video Webb sent us came from.”

“There was definitely a Skull in that video.” Jenna crept to his side. Her gun’s muzzle swept across the equipment and a bank of dark monitors. “No sign of them now. You think the one that attacked Brett was all that was left?”

“Somehow, I doubt it,” Miguel said. He pressed a button on one of the computers lining a bench top. “Instead of trying to turn the power on, why don’t we just scrap these things for the hard drives and get the hell out of here?”

“We could,” Dom said. “But that’d eat up a lot of time, and I’m interested in the storage space we can’t access by yanking their drives.”

“What do you mean?” Scott said.

“I’m not convinced everything is stored on these.” Dom patted one of the computers. “I want to dig into this platform’s intranet, see what’s on the network. Maybe we can access any VPNs or rout out a connection to the mainland. That might help us find the assholes behind this mess. We can’t do any of that without power.”

“Makes sense,” Miguel said. “I’d rather find out everything we can about this damn place so we don’t have to come back.”

“Agreed,” Jenna said. “Even if we killed all those damn Skulls, this place is by far one of the creepiest we’ve been to.”

Glenn was scouring through the drawers. “Found a couple more notebooks.”

“How about some biological samples?” Dom asked.

Miguel nodded and pulled a biocontainment canister from his rucksack. The lockable aluminum cylinder contained several insulated layers to protect biological samples from the external environment and ensure whatever went into the device stayed in the device. He marched to the walk-in cooler near a series of biosafety cabinets. “Start in here?”

“Sure thing,” Dom said. He wrapped his fingers around the cooler door’s handle. Miguel set the canister down and shouldered his weapon to affirm his readiness.

Dom jerked the cooler open. A sudden wail filled the lab space, and a creature pounced from within. Miguel fired, but his shots missed. Clad in the remains of a biosafety suit, a Skull pounced forward, swinging its skeletal limbs. Miguel threw an arm up to deflect the Skull’s talons. The beast knocked the gun from his hands and drove him to the floor.

Dom wanted to fire, but he couldn’t risk firing accidentally shooting the Hunter. He dropped his gun and pulled his knife from the sheath wrapped around the leg of his biosuit.

The Skull screamed. Saliva flew out of its mouth and covered Miguel’s visor. Dom lunged and yanked back on one of the horn-like protrusions above the creature’s brow. He drove his knife into the flesh under its chin. Hot blood spilled out. The Skull wailed a high-pitched scream and flailed its arms. Dom dodged the bony talons and twisted the blade deeper. With a final cry of agony, the creature twisted, more hot crimson spilling, before it fell limp. Dom turned the beast over and removed his knife. He wiped the blood on the tattered remnants of the monster’s suit.

Backing away, Miguel cradled one of his arms. “That thing was one of the scientists here.”

Dom pointed to Miguel’s arm. “What the hell happened?”

Miguel waved the limb. “Just the prosthetic again.”

Despite the dismissal, Miguel’s tone was worried. Gashes in Miguel’s bio suit revealed the complex wires and actuators in his metal appendage. A deep pit formed in Dom’s stomach. He didn’t want to believe what he saw.
First Brett, now this.
Even if they fixed the positive pressure suit with duct tape, it was already too late. The tears were too large—the entire arm of Miguel’s suit was in tatters. “Your suit’s been compromised.”

“But the arm is fine,” Miguel said, feigning his normal good humor.

“Miguel, if whatever is turning people into these monsters happens to be airborne”—Dom pointed to the dead Skull—”then you might be exposed to it.”

“Then I might be,” Miguel said, sounding determined. “And there’s not a hell of a lot we can do now. What are you going to do? Send me back to the boat?”

“You need the doctor to take a look at you.” Glenn rested a large gloved hand on Miguel’s shoulder.

“How’s Lauren going to help me? She’ll need to give me a diagnosis first.” He waved a hand at the Skull’s corpse. Blood pooled around its head. “And I doubt she knows what kind of disease does this to a person.”

Dom slung his SCAR-H across his back. “Damn it.” His first instinct was to abort the mission and retreat. They’d already lost one man, and now they faced the loss of a second.

As if reading Dom’s thoughts, Miguel caught his eyes through their visors. “If it’s already too late for me, I want it to be worthwhile. The only way to do that is by finding out what’s going on here. We need to stop this bioweapon from being used on others. Your family, Dom. The States. Think about it.” He tore off the tattered sleeve and tossed it aside. Scott gasped, but Miguel ignored him.

“No, Miguel,” Dom said. But as much as he wanted to believe it, he knew Miguel’s suit didn’t matter now.

“No point in wearing this torn up piece of shit anymore.” Miguel’s hair was matted to his head by sweat, his breath condensing in his visor. “If I’m screwed, I’m screwed. But I want to make this count. Let’s get the data off these computers and scrounge up whatever samples we can. Let’s figure out what’s going on before the whole goddamned world is turned to Skulls. Let’s—” His eyes shot to the small LCD screen on his prosthetic limb, now open to the atmosphere.

Dom stepped forward. “What is it?”

“Remember the chip Chao installed in my arm?”

“For detecting trace explosives?”

“That’s the one,” Miguel said. “It’s found something.”

––––––––

J
ay Perry stood in the wheelhouse of the yacht. The bow broke through the choppy waves, remnants of the storm following them from the oil platform turned Frankenstein’s lab. Whitecaps continuously slapped along the boat’s hull, and a frothy wake trailed behind them. The skies were slowly turning from an ominous black back to a calmer cerulean.

In his mind’s eye, Jay saw the last creature fling itself at him once more. He had barely dodged its raking claws and gnashing teeth. It had been luck more than anything that drove his knife through the beast’s nasal cavity and into its brain. The thing had writhed then fallen still. Its body had been draped across the rubber gunwale of the Zodiac until he’d pushed it into the sea. The cries of the other beasts had filled the air after him. A couple had even tumbled into the churning waves to swim after him.

But he’d lived; he’d made it. Unlike Corey. A deep pang of regret filled him again. He couldn’t help but wonder if his friend’s death had been worth it.
Probably not,
he decided. He probed at the bandage across his cheek, a lingering reminder of all he’d been through.

“Is it bothering you?” Ryan Zimmer asked, his hands on the wheel. “Do you need painkillers? Antibiotics, maybe? I mean, that was a bioweapons lab, right? Better to be safe than sorry.”

“Already took them,” Jay said, “and it’s not bugging me so much anymore.”

And it was true. The slash across his cheek had caused only a slight pain. It was the memories that haunted him now.

“Still can’t believe Corey’s gone.”

“Yeah.” Jay slumped into a chair behind Ryan but said nothing more. Ryan no doubt wanted to know what else had happened—and why he’d come back alone—but Webb had sworn him to secrecy. Despite Ryan’s role in the mission, even he wasn’t privy to the same sensitive intel Webb had provided Jay and Corey. She hadn’t wanted anything that happened on the mission, anything they would find on the oil platform, to get out. After what Jay had seen, neither did he.

A strip of green vegetation appeared along the horizon on their starboard side. Jay recognized the sight as they motored closer to the woods along the coast.
Cape Charles.
They would traverse up into Chesapeake Bay and dock in Annapolis on return from their “deep-sea fishing expedition.” Even before Jay and Corey had boarded the Zodiac for the platform, they’d spent enough time with their fishing lines dangling in the ocean to gather a plethora of snapper, grouper, and triggerfish in their stores to bolster their alibi.

He checked his satellite phone again to confirm Webb’s initial payment had gone through to the Cayman account. It was there, but her second deposit hadn’t been made. He sent her a short encrypted message about it. Maybe he didn’t deserve compensation. Corey had lost his life, and they were unable to tell Webb what the hell had been going on. The mission had been an outright failure.

But Jay had learned one thing from the mission: it was time to get out of the United States. From what he could tell, the scientists and researchers on the IBSL had been turned into those bloodthirsty monsters. And if the biological agent or drug responsible for the disaster might be let loose on America, he didn’t intend to get swept up in the chaos. He would escape to the Caribbean as he’d planned. Hell, maybe somewhere farther, more remote.

Ryan pulled a hand through his mud-brown hair. “So I’m just never going to get the full story on Corey, am I?”

“Even if I could tell you...” Jay let his words trail off and shook his head. He ignored the exasperated look from Ryan and meandered out of the wheelhouse and down the stairs outside. The gunwale beckoned to him, and he leaned on it. A cool sea breeze rushed across his face and tickled his skin. He soaked in the salty air as gulls swooped and squawked overhead. He needed this escape from Ryan’s unquenchable curiosity.

When he had escaped from the rig and boarded the yacht, he’d told Ryan there had been more armed mercenaries on the rig than expected. They’d prevented him and Corey from probing into the bioweapon secrets Webb had directed them to find. It wasn’t so far from the truth.
Just replace mercenaries with monsters.

Cape Charles grew larger. Jay could make out the individual trees and houses now, along with the sandy beaches and the piers jutting out over crystal-blue water. Other boats and ships kicked up their own wakes. They were drawing nearer to civilization. Home.

Ryan’s earlier words repeated in his head.
Better to be safe than sorry.

He wondered just how safe any of them were.

***

A
quick twist of the lockpick caused the tumblers to click into place. Renee’s pulse pounded in her ears, and sweat trickled between her palms and gloves as she held up her fingers. She signaled:
three, two, one.
She pulled the door open to the reassuring scent of diesel. They’d found the generator room. She signaled Ivan to take point and motioned for Andris to take rear guard. Terrence held security in the corridor to guard the still-unconscious man they’d found holed up in the bathroom. Renee gestured for him to stay put with the mechanic—the name they’d given the knocked-out man because of his blue coveralls—until she gave him the all clear.

Ivan swept the room with his gun before stepping in, and Andris pushed in behind him. Renee darted in behind them. The trio melted into the shadows of the cavernous room. The boxy shapes of the two main generators took up most of the space. A smaller backup generator lay dormant nearer Renee’s position. Congealed diesel fuel made the floor slick. She wondered why this room had been locked shut, why something so vital as power to the platform had been closed off from the rest of the rig.

The answer came in a gargling yell from the far corner of the generator room. A Skull rushed out of the darkness. Its lips peeled back, baring its jagged teeth, and it ran with its arms outstretched, muscles twitching underneath its bony plates.

Ivan backed away, gunfire lighting up his retreat. His haphazard shots didn’t stop the creature charging him. It pounced, its claws swiping across the front of his suit. Ivan fell to the floor. “Help!” He tried to push the beast off, but it persisted, snapping at him and snarling. Closest to Ivan, Andris aimed his rifle at the creature and fired. The bullets slammed uselessly into the creature’s armor, and the Skull swatted the gun out of Andris’s hands.

“Shit!” The Hunter yelled and leapt to recover the gun. Terrence ran in from the hall to help, but Ivan was directly between him and the Skull.

Renee knew the Hunter wouldn’t get a clear shot. She ran at the Skull and slammed the stock of her rifle into its face. The blow knocked chunks of bone off the horns rimming the creature’s brow. Dazed, it swiveled its head toward her. Its mouth opened wide as it let loose another deafening wail. Its tongue shook over its pointed teeth, and it reared a clawed hand back. Renee sidestepped as the Skull lunged forward. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she dodged the long talon-like fingers and the overgrown skeletal blades protruding from the beast’s joints.

“Bravo, the fuck is going on?” Dom’s voice called over the comm link.

“A fucking Skull, that’s what,” Renee yelled back as she prepared for the creature’s next attack.

The Skull slid across the slick floor, thrashing and scrambling to gain traction. Renee shouldered her rifle and fired directly into the beast’s face. The bullet smashed through its eye socket. More bone fragments and red tissue exploded from the exit wound. The beast fell slack and slumped forward. Its blood spilled across the dark shadow of diesel already covering the floor.

“Ivan, you okay?” Renee shouted.

He grunted. “Fine.”

Renee watched the Marine stand and wipe at the diesel clinging to his suit. She’d almost lost a second Hunter. She took point as Andris returned to her side. She signaled for Terrence to bring the mechanic in from the corridor. She shut the door behind him and relocked it to ensure no one and no
thing
wandered in on them while they worked.

“All clear,” Renee said as she lowered her weapon and began to examine one of the twin generators.

“Why the hell would they lock one of these things in here?” Ivan asked as he sidled up to her.

Renee considered the question. “I don’t think they had a choice.” She nodded toward the mechanic. “He wasn’t armed. I haven’t seen guns or ammunition anywhere,” she said in a low voice. “When the Skulls took over, I’m guessing the people here were forced to lock them up for their own safety.”