Brian Keene - Deluge - The Conqueror Worms II

They fell silent, watching as the boat slowly approached the mysterious mass. Even as they drew closer, their visibility didn’t improve. The smooth grayish-black surface lacked any topography—there were no buildings or vegetation. The small dome in the center didn’t appear to be man-made, but a natural formation.

“Know what I keep thinking of?”

Gail shook her head. “What?”

“The serpent mound in Ohio. Ever hear of that? The Indians built it a long time ago. This giant fucking hill that looked like a snake when you stared down at it from above. People lived around it for years and didn’t realize that it was man-made, or what it was supposed to resemble. They didn’t figure it out until the airplane was invented. There’s all kinds of similar mounds in this part of the country—barrows and burial sites. I mean, most of them are probably underwater by now, but what if that thing is one of them?”

Before Gail could respond, Warren pounded up the ladder and emerged on deck. With him were Riffle, Paris, Mylon, Tatiana, Lynn and Morgan. All of them appeared tired but alert. While the others yawned and stretched and flinched at the rain, Tatiana was fresh-faced—the benefits of sleeping through the night without a watch shift. Only Morgan seemed angered by being woken. His expression was dour and impatient. When Novak nodded at him, he sneered.

“What’s this all about, Captain?”

“I’ve told you before, don’t call me that. I’m about as much of a Captain as you are.”

“And yet you’re in charge.”

“You want to volunteer, Morgan? Cause if you’ve got any better ideas, I’m all fucking ears.”

“I think you’re doing a commendable job.”

Gail noticed Novak’s shoulders stiffen, but he ignored the sarcasm.

“What this is about,” he said, turning back to the ocean, “is that land mass over there. At least, we’re pretty sure it’s a land mass. Might be some type of man-made structure—a water tower or something similar. In any case, we’re gonna find out. That’s why I had Warren wake everybody up. I know that most of you just went to bed three hours ago, but I need all hands on this. Riffle, I want you to take over piloting for McCann. He’s more awake than you are, so I want him out there with me. Go slow as we approach. I don’t want us bottoming out. The rest of you come with me. Each of you gets one weapon. Half of you are going to stay behind to defend the ship. The other half are going ashore with me and McCann.”

Morgan’s gaze went from the island to Novak. “And if we refuse?”

“Shit, Morgan. I’m not twisting your arm. If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to. We can wake somebody else up. That just means if there’s anything of value over there—like food, for instance—you don’t fucking get any of it. Fair enough?”

Novak turned and winked at Gail. Then he strode past the sulking man and headed for the weapons locker. Grinning, Warren and the others followed him. Morgan trailed along a few steps behind. When Gail turned to glance at him, his face was twisted into a hateful, loathing grimace.

Well, she thought, looking forward again, this should certainly be fun…

CHAPTER 35

“I’ve got an idea,” Gail said to Novak as they lined up at the lifeboat.

He blinked rain from his eyes and nodded, indicating that he was listening.

“If there is stuff on the island that we can salvage,” Gail continued, “then maybe we should leave some room in the boat, so we can bring it back? Which means taking less people ashore.”

Sighing, Novak pulled off his rain hat, ran a hand through his hair, and then plopped the hat back on again. He shook his head. His smile was rueful.

“You’re right,” he said. “What the hell was I thinking? Goddamn it.”

McCann shrugged. “It’s cool, boss. You’re tired. We’re all tired. Nobody’s bringing their A-game anymore, you know.”

“Yeah, but still… this is just common sense. And now we’ve wasted time and woke everyone up.”

Morgan raised his hand. “I’ll be glad to stay behind.”

“I’m sure you would.” Novak glared at him. The silence between them lasted a full thirty seconds before Morgan finally turned away.

Warren sneezed.

“Go on back to your rack,” Novak told Morgan. “If you’re skipping out on this then you’re pulling double watch tonight so that someone else can get caught up on their sleep.”

“I’ll do no such thing.”

“Fine.” Novak turned to McCann. “Go get Riffle. Then I want the two of you to throw Mr. Morgan over the side. I’ve had it with his shit.”

Morgan sputtered. “What? Now just wait a goddamn minute!”

“I’m kidding.” Novak grinned, but it was a humorless expression. He stared at the man a moment longer, as if daring him to respond, and then turned back to the others. “Okay. Gail brings up a good point, so let’s split this up. Who wants to volunteer to go ashore?”

Warren and Lynn raised their hands. Morgan glanced down at the deck.

“Mylon?” Novak said. “Tatiana? Paris? How about you guys?”

“I’d be okay with pulling a double tonight.” Paris spoke so softly that they had to strain to hear her over the rain and the waves. “I could use some more sleep this morning.”

Tatiana nodded in agreement. “I know that’s right.”

“Doesn’t matter much to me,” Mylon said. “I’ll do whatever you think is best, Novak.”

“Okay, then. Me, McCann, Gail, Warren and Lynn will go ashore. That leaves enough room in the lifeboat to carry back supplies—unless we hit the mother load, in which case, we’ll just make a couple trips. You guys stow those weapons again, and then get some frigging sleep.”

“Sounds good.” Mylon’s tone was relieved.

As they walked away, Morgan muttered something about being woken up. Gail noticed Novak stiffen and bite his lip, but he said nothing.

“Would you have really thrown him overboard?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” Novak climbed into the lifeboat. “I just don’t know anymore. The kind of man I used to be? Of course not. But sometimes it feels like that man was part of another life.”

* * *

Gail was tense during the short journey from the ship to the mysterious island. She assumed that the others were, as well, because nobody spoke. The only sounds were the waves, the oars creaking as Warren and McCann rowed, and the ever-present patter of the rain. Novak sat at the bow, leaning forward and watching the formation intently. Lynn and Gail watched either side of the lifeboat, alert for any signs of trouble.

Despite their fears, the crossing was uneventful. Debris churned by, floating on the surf, but none of it was salvageable. They encountered an eight-foot-long aluminum bass boat with the name ‘Goffee’ emblazoned on the side with the type of block letter stickers usually used for mailboxes or front doors. Gail wondered if ‘Goffee’ was the name of the boat’s owner or the boat itself. Warren prodded the capsized craft with one oar. It spun slowly, and they recoiled. One side was covered with white mold.

“You didn’t get it on the oar, did you?” McCann asked.

Warren shook his head. “No, we’re okay.”

They fell silent again. It occurred to Gail that she hadn’t heard any seagulls or other birds. Normally, they were as ever-present as the rain, but now they were noticeably absent. She frowned, trying to remember when she’d actually last seen one. A few days ago? A week? She didn’t know.

The mist grew thicker as they approached the formation. It swirled around them in thick, chilly clouds. Gail glanced behind them and was alarmed to see that the ship was no longer visible. What if they got lost out here? What would they do then? Would Novak’s suicide solution become more palatable after a few days of drifting aimlessly in the lifeboat? Suddenly, she toppled forward in her seat as the lifeboat came to a jarring halt against the island.