Jack Rogan - The Ocean Dark

“Why are we even talking?” Tori asked. “Left is up, and up means out.”

Ridge glanced back at her. “It might not be that simple.”

Tori sighed, but her focus remained on Agent Hart. Alena kept her Maglite beam aimed at the ground so as not to shine it in anyone’s eyes, but the illumination gave her enough light to see the sweat on Josh Hart’s brow and the way he propped himself against the tunnel wall, as though the smooth black stone was the only thing keeping him standing. Tori caught Alena looking, and a wordless communication passed between them. If Josh had to sit down, he probably wouldn’t be getting back up.

Alena glanced at the three sailors who brought up the rear — Mays, Garbarino, and Charlie. If they had to carry Josh, it would slow things down even more. Every second of indecision now could end up being costly.

“Paul, check out the left tunnel. Let’s find out if it really does lead up and out,” she said.

Ridge nodded grimly, aimed his Maglite, and stepped into the tunnel.

“Mr. Deaver,” Lieutenant Commander Sykes called. “Go with Dr. Ridge. Cover him.”

“Yes, sir!” Charlie snapped off a salute, and Alena realized she had just learned his last name.

Ridge vanished into the tunnel with Charlie close on his tail, the barrel of his assault rifle tipped toward the ceiling. Mays and Garbarino shuffled up closer, just behind Tori and Josh, and Alena thought they were all holding their breath.

“Do you hear that?” Tori whispered.

Alena frowned and stared at the tunnel where Ridge and Charlie had gone, thinking she referred to their progress, but she didn’t hear anything.

“What is that?” Mays asked.

Sykes turned toward the right-hand path and started down it again, just a few steps, and then at last Alena heard the sound that had distracted them. Somewhere off in the tunnels — impossible to know how far with all of the echoes and twists and turns — a siren song had begun.

“I guess we’re not going that way,” Josh said, sliding up the wall to stand straight, a determined look in his eyes.

They all looked to the dark opening where Ridge and Charlie had gone. Just as they did, another sound interrupted the siren song down to their right — a ripple of distant, muffled gunfire.

Alena froze, staring, aiming her flashlight beam at Sykes and beyond, down along that tunnel. Immediately, she knew David had come for her, and he wouldn’t be alone.

“What the hell?” Tori asked.

“My grandson,” Alena replied, heartbreaking love doing combat with fury and frustration inside her. “Goddamn fool.”

“He’s brought a whole team down here?” Sykes asked.

Alena turned to him, irony twisting in her. “He loves me.”

But she could see that Sykes understood that the stakes had changed. The gunfire and the unnerving, hideous song of those monsters meant David and his team were either retreating by now or rushing this way. It also meant there must be no exit ahead, unless they wanted to fight their way past the sirens to get there.

Alena hurried to the entrance of the tunnel Ridge had entered. Someone would have to run the other way and try to lead David back here with whoever he’d brought with him, and then, if this truly offered a way out … but it had to. There was no other way.

“How are you doing up there, Paul?” she called.

“Good! Maybe great!” Ridge shouted back down to her. “It keeps going up, and there’s light! It won’t be an easy—”

Alena had just started into the tunnel, light picking out the easiest footholds on the rough slope, thinking that the climb would be rough on Josh, when Ridge cried out. Charlie Deaver swore loudly, and then she heard what sounded like a splash.

Panic seized her. “Paul? Damn it, Paul!”

Behind her, questions and curses merged into one stunned reaction — sailors’ voices merging with Tori’s frantic query. Alena did not stop to think; she steadied herself with her free hand and scrambled up the slope.

Ahead, someone began to scream.

“Paul!” she shouted, and far ahead and above her she saw the glimmer of daylight that had so excited Ridge. Silhouetted in that light, Charlie Deaver knelt on the ground, and only now did she hear the sailor’s shouts.

“Dr. Ridge!” Charlie called. “Take my hand. Grab my fucking hand!”

Alena shone her Maglite on the scene and saw what had happened. The tunnel floor vanished a few feet from her, some past tremor having split the stone there. Focused on the daylight ahead, Ridge had gone one step too far before he had seen the drop, and slid into the crevice, and into bubbling, foaming seawater ten feet below.

“Jesus, Alena, help me!” Ridge cried.

Her flashlight beam struck his face and he closed his eyes but did not stop scrabbling for purchase, trying to climb back up. Charlie dropped flat on his stomach, arms thrust into the crevice. He had Ridge by the wrists and strained, cursing madly, trying to haul him back up.

Paul Ridge had tears in his eyes. No matter how hard Charlie pulled, he seemed to keep slipping. Alena couldn’t breathe. She knew — knew — even before she flashed her beam lower and the light picked out the sickly pearl-white hand wrapped around Ridge’s ankle, suckers tugging at flesh as Charlie attempted to haul Ridge out of the hole.

Something broke the surface of the water below Ridge, and she expected to see those black eyes, the glistening white scar-tissue face. Instead what coiled out from the dark water was the thing’s tail. It wrapped around Ridge’s leg, curling up as far as his groin.

“Charlie, let go,” Alena whispered.

“Fuck that!” the sailor said. “Take my gun. Shoot the damn thing!”

Her flashlight picked out his weapon, there on the black rock. He’d set it aside so he could use both hands to grab for Ridge — a brave and foolish thing to do. But maybe he was right, maybe she could do it. She picked up the assault rifle, stepped to the edge, aimed just over Ridge’s back at the thing in the water.

Sykes came up behind her, then put a strong hand on her hip and moved her aside. He took aim and pulled the trigger, squeezing off two careful shots. One of them hit the siren’s tail and its head surfaced, mouth opening to reveal rows of needle teeth, screaming.

It burst from the water, reached up with both hands and sank talons into Ridge’s back, and peeled him off the rock wall with sheer strength and its own weight. Screaming, Ridge did not let go of Charlie’s wrists, instead dragging him over the lip and down into the crevice with him. Both men plunged into the water.

In the glow of Alena’s flashlight beam, they struggled and died, blood foaming up in the roiling water.

“Deaver!” Sykes shouted, and Alena heard his voice crack, just once, before it became a roar. “Goddammit, Deaver!”

Sykes clicked over to automatic and pulled the trigger, bullets punching into the water and into flesh as well. Alena knew some of the shots would hit Ridge and Deaver, but she didn’t try to stop Sykes. To her, it was a mercy if the bullets killed them.

One of the sirens bobbed to the surface, dead.

Sykes lowered his weapon.

But then, one by one, three pale faces pushed up from the dark water, one of them painted with human blood. They opened their mouths, teeth gleaming, and screeched that inhuman melody.

Sykes fired again but they submerged the moment his gun barrel twitched, and there would be no telling if he hit them.

Alena grabbed his arm. “Stop. We’ve got to run.”

“Screw that, they’ll only come after us,” he said, shaking her off.

“Let them. At least you’ll get a clear shot. But the tide’s rising. If water floods through here, we’re in their element.”