Brian Keene - Deluge - The Conqueror Worms II

Novak nodded in agreement. “Keep an eye out.”

Soon, the bottom of the boat began to scrape overtop the underwater structures. Treetops, steel girders and jagged, exposed construction timbers jutted from the water like skeletal fingers. Other than the rain, the area was completely still. There was no sound or movement. Even the seabirds had disappeared. The white fuzz wasn’t as prevalent in this region as it had been in other places they’d sailed through in recent weeks. It clung to a few of the trees and girders, but most of the ruins were relatively free of it.

They passed a circular water tower and a church steeple. Both towered above the waterline, but neither structure offered shelter from the elements. The current took them close enough to the steeple that Gail could have reached out and touched it, but there was nothing to salvage other than roofing tiles. Novak made a half-hearted attempt to grab one of the gutters, announcing his intent to use it as an oar, but the gutter held fast. The boat rocked dangerously beneath them, and Gail urged him to sit back down. The boat bumped against the side of the steeple and then kept drifting.

“Look ahead.” McCann pointed. “How about that? It looks secure.”

Gail and Novak turned in the direction he had indicated. Ahead of them was a large, rectangular office building. The four topmost floors were above the water. An array of antennae and ductwork covered the roof. It appeared deserted, and intact. There were no broken windows, and no cracks or holes in the sides of the building.

“It looks solid,” Gail said. “But the current isn’t taking us anywhere near it.”

Novak stood up again, more carefully this time.

“What are you doing?” Gail asked.

“Getting us there. I’m already wet, right?”

Without another word, he draped his legs over the side and then slipped into the water, nearly capsizing their boat in the process. Novak clutched the bow with one hand and blinked water from his eyes.

McCann paled. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, boss-man. Look at how dirty that water is. The pollutants are a lot thicker here than they were further out to sea.”

“Then I’ll make sure I don’t swallow any.”

“Are you crazy?” Gail moved to the front of the craft. “Have you forgotten about the shark-men already?”

“We want to get away from them,” Novak said, “along with all the other creepy-critters out here. That building looks like our only shot. Now sit down, Gail. If you guys want to help, paddle with your hands.”

Still gripping the bow with one hand, he began to propel them through the water, grunting with the effort. McCann leaned over the side and began paddling with his hand. After a moment, Gail did the same from her side. They moved slowly, and she kept her eyes on the water, waiting for something to charge up from the depths.

CHAPTER 44

Treading water, Novak pulled the boat alongside the building. The hull bumped gently against the side, scraping the wall. Novak grasped for a handhold. Foul seawater dripped from his hands and arms. Gail eyed the droplets, thinking about her suspicion that the strange fungus was possibly spread by contact with the water. She kept her misgivings to herself. After all, if that were true, they’d all be infected by now. After suffering through endless days of rain, it was impossible to stay dry. The air itself felt drenched.

Novak latched onto a windowsill and steadied the rocking craft. Small waves lapped against the concrete walls. Raindrops made circular patterns on the water’s surface—no two alike. Gail turned her attention to the office building. While only the four topmost floors were above the surface, the structure seemed stable. It wasn’t leaning, and there were no cracks, holes or broken windows that she could see—at least on this side. The swirling fog hid the ductwork and antennae array she’d seen on the roof earlier. There were no lights behind the windows. Gail tried peering through one, but it was fogged over.

“What do you guys think?” McCann asked.

“It’s quiet,” Novak said. “Sealed up. Looks stable. There’s no way of knowing what kind of shape the interior is in, but I say we try to get inside.”

“What if it’s not deserted?”

“Then we’ll ask them if they mind sharing.”

Something splashed loudly far out in the mist, and the little boat rocked harder. Gail glanced behind them. There was a dark shape in the mist—something large, looming above the surface. She turned back to McCann and Novak to verify that they saw the same thing, but both men had their attention focused on the office building. She looked again, and the shadow was gone.

“Novak…”

He grunted in response.

“I think we’d better hurry,” Gail whispered.

Nodding, Novak pushed and pulled at the window. It wouldn’t open. He sighed, treading water, and then tried again. The window was about a foot above the surface, and the waves kept pushing Novak into the wall.

“Maybe we should check the other sides of the building,” McCann said. “Might be an easier way in.”

“I want to get out of this water,” Novak said. “The damn Jaws theme keeps running through my head.”

He pulled off his shirt and wrapped the wet garment around his fist. Then, gritting his teeth, he drew back his arm and struck the window with the side of his fist. The boat rocked back and forth from the momentum. The glass remained intact. Grimacing, Novak rubbed his hand.

“Shit. That hurt.”

Gail noticed that the waves were growing bigger.

“Hit it again,” she urged. Something splashed softly in the gloom.

Novak struck the window three more times. A spider-web pattern of cracks appeared in the glass. He struck again. On the sixth attempt, the window shattered. He leaned forward and sniffed, testing the air.

“Smell anything?” McCann asked.

Novak shook his head. “Mildew, but it’s real faint. I don’t hear anything, either. I think we’re okay.”

Gail noticed that his speech was different. His words were clipped—tense, as if he were in pain and trying to hide it. He clung to the side of the boat with his free hand. Gail started to speak, but Novak cut her off.

“Can you guys clear the glass out of the way, so we don’t cut ourselves climbing through?”

McCann stood up carefully, waited for the boat to settle, and then began picking shards of glass from the frame and dropping them into the water.

“Are you okay?” Gail asked Novak.

“No.” His face was pinched and the color had drained from his face. “I think I just broke my goddamn hand. That’s all we need right now, huh? When it rains, it fucking pours.”

“Shit.” McCann finished clearing the shards of broken glass out of the way. “Are you sure it’s broken?”

Novak shook his head. “No, but it sure feels that way.”

“Okay, well, I’ll go inside. Make sure it’s okay. Then I’ll pull you up. Gail can push on your feet.”

Nodding, Novak blinked water from his eyes.

McCann grabbed the windowsill and hoisted himself into the open space. His head and shoulders disappeared inside. He pulled one leg through the window, and was about to pull the other one through, when a shotgun blast filled the air, drowning out even the sound of the rain. McCann tumbled backward and splashed into the water, narrowly missing the boat. He vanished beneath the surface. Gail leaned forward but before she could cry out, an armed figure appeared in the window.

“Don’t move, motherfuckers!”

The stranger’s face was hidden beneath wet bandages. Only his eyes were visible, but they were covered by a pair of aviator goggles. He wore a hooded yellow poncho and his feet, legs and waist were covered by a pair of green rubber waders. His voice, guttural and angry, was a man’s. Smoke still curled from the barrel of the shotgun in his hands, and water dripped from the stock.