Ben Hammott - Salvage

“Strange that no one came to see if we’re okay,” said Jane.

“Would you venture out in this weather unless you had to?” said Jack, pulling his jacket tighter together. “Thomson’s probably pissed at me for taking the helicopter and forbade anyone to come to our aid.”

Jane grabbed his hand. “If he gives you any verbal, he’ll have me to deal with. If you hadn’t rescued me I’d be dead.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Before you two start kissing, let’s get inside somewhere warm.” The oversized jacket the Russians lent her might be waterproof, but it did little to keep out the cold.

Jack thought about securing the helicopter, but it was already a wreck and jammed against the container, so he hunkered against the cold wind and followed the others towards the nearest door. A cup of hot coffee to chase away the chill sounded like heaven to him at the moment.

Richard reached the door ahead of the others and pulled it open.

Fitch glanced behind when the monster’s footsteps started up again and looked at the sliver of glass he noticed sticking from his thigh. Though blood seeped from the wound, he felt no pain. He assumed that would come―if he lived long enough―when the adrenaline pumping though his body subsided. When Admiral Thomson suddenly stepped into the corridor and aimed the large pistol straight at him, he almost stumbled into the wall.

Thomson looked along the corridor he judged was the direction the gunshots had come from. The man running towards him, who wore a mask of fear, was obviously fleeing from something. The Russians must be close.

“Get on the ground!” Thomson shouted.

Careful not to hammer the glass dagger in any farther, Fitch dived to the floor.

To his credit, the Admiral recovered surprisingly quickly from the shock of realizing the Russians were not the current threat and focused the weapon on the fast approaching monster. When the first shot echoed along the corridor, the Hunter leaped to the side to avoid the large caliber bullet. It sped harmlessly past and struck a man farther along the corridor in the center of his back. He toppled to the floor with his spine cut in two.

The Hunter avoided the second bullet by leaping onto the wall and sprung across to the opposite side and over Fitch hugging the floor like it was his mother.

The third bullet Thomson fired struck the ceiling when the Hunter crashed into him and savagely raked its talons over his face and body as they both fell. The Hunter abandoned Thomson’s blood-soaked corpse when it struck the floor and bounded along the corridor. As it approached the door at the far end, cold air whooshed along the corridor when it opened.

Though Richard’s mouth opened to let forth a terrified scream, it was cut off by the Hunter’s clawed hand that gripped him tightly around the throat and propelled him backwards.

Lucy, who was directly behind Richard, had more time. Her scream was carried away by the wind as she recoiled from the monster that had suddenly appeared.

Jane stumbled when Lucy collided with her and fell backwards.

Jack reached out and caught Jane before she hit the ground and stared at Richard’s terrified expression as the monster carried him past.

Jane stared in horror at the one-eyed Hunter as gunshots followed in its wake from the men that rushed from the doorway.

The monster turned, snarled and threw Richard at them before fleeing.

Gasping for breath from the released chokehold, Richard flew through the air, but his flight ended abruptly and painfully when the men dodged aside, and he crashed forcefully into the wall. He screamed as his leg and arm snapped from the collision and screamed again when his damaged limbs struck the deck. Mercifully, the blackness of unconsciousness swept away his pain.

Miller glanced at the three unexpected arrivals as he halted, pulled out his pistol and held it out to Jack. “Do you know how to use this?”

Jack, still dazed by what had just happened, took the weapon and nodded.

“We’re going to drive the monster to front of the ship and kill it, but if it gets past us, don’t let it get back inside.”

“I’ll do my best,” said Jack, glancing at Richard’s crumpled form. “What about him?”

“Leave him. He can be tended to later when the monster’s been dealt with.” Miller turned to the two women. “Get inside and head for the bridge. Tell the captain about the monster and to ensure everyone remains inside and to turn on all deck lights. If that thing gets back inside again, I’m not sure anyone will survive the onslaught.” Miller rejoined his men and they moved away.

Jane and Lucy were still recovering from the shock of the Hunter’s sudden appearance when Jack herded them towards the open door. He pushed them inside and went to close the door, but Jane grabbed it. “What are you doing, Jack?”

“I’ve got to stay here.”

Jane squeezed through the gap. “If you’re staying, I am too. Lucy can tell the captain.”

Jack knew to argue would only waste time and relented. He glanced at Lucy. “Are you okay going on your own?”

“Alone is something I’m used to lately. Good luck you two.” Lucy pulled the door shut and turned the locking mechanism before rushing away to seek out the route to the bridge.

Jack grabbed Jane’s hand and together they roamed their eyes across the deck.

Miller, Sawyer and Patterson paused and roamed their weapons across the deck.

“If we can drive it to the bow, it’ll have nowhere to go,” said Miller.

The two men nodded and spread out with their weapons raised and moved forwards.

Miller moved over to the crashed helicopter, which explained how the new arrivals had gotten onboard, and after checking the monster wasn’t hiding inside, moved on.

Sawyer moved past the shipping containers stacked along the port side and peered around the edge of the last one. His eyes roamed the area but detected no sign of the Hunter.

Fighting against the rocking motion of the ship, Patterson moved cautiously along the starboard side. As he approached the end of the shipping container, the light ahead went dark. He flipped the night-vision goggles over his eyes and edged forward. When his boots crunched on broken glass, he paused and glanced up at the broken light and knew the Hunter was responsible and somewhere nearby.

“I have a broken light on the starboard side,” Patterson whispered into his helmet mic.

“Nothing portside, so I’ll head towards you,” said Sawyer.

Patterson roamed the goggles around the deck bathed in the NVGs’ ghostly green light. The constant creaks of metal the ship and the containers emitted and the windblown snow and spray that howled around him made it difficult to hear and visualize everything clearly. With his senses on high alert and his eyes and weapon sweeping across every possible hiding place the monster might have concealed itself, he moved forward.

The Hunter ignored the cold spray that washed over it from below and blinked the snow from its one good eye as it watched the human pass by less than a yard away. It slowly climbed over the rail it hung from and stepped silently onto the deck. Two steps brought it behind the human. A claw reached over the man’s head, grabbed the helmet and yanked it back. The human’s exposed throat gushed blood when its claws raked deep gouges through the soft flesh.

As Patterson died, his finger squeezed the trigger.

Sawyer dived behind the forward anchor-winch housing to escape the bullets that sprayed around him. He peered out when they stopped and glimpsed movement in the shadows shrouding the deck. He flipped down his NVGs and saw Stedman’s motionless body and the rapidly cooling pool of blood around the man’s head, but no sign of the Hunter responsible for the slaughter.