Brian Keene - Deluge - The Conqueror Worms II

Soaked to the skin within minutes, they drifted for what felt (at least to Gail) like hours. Her arms and back muscles began to ache, and she had to keep blinking water from her eyes. Eventually, Simon and Novak traded places with her and McCann. Novak rowed slowly, favoring his arm.

“If it starts to hurt too much, let us know,” Gail said. “McCann or I can take over again.”

“I’ll be okay,” he grunted. His tone, however, indicated that he’d be anything but.

McCann was silent as they bobbed on the waves. Gail wondered if he was just tired or if the recent changes she’d noticed in his behavior were continuing to manifest. Exhausted, she closed her eyes but was unable to sleep. Every time she started to drift off, she’d jerk awake again, expecting an attack. Luckily, they continued on their way, unmolested by the denizens of the deep. Occasionally, they spotted shapes in the water. Once, a humped, elongated black form broke the surface to their starboard side, but it slipped beneath the waves before they could get a good look at what it was. Then they passed by the floating corpse of a giant crab. The decomposing carcass was easily the size of a pick-up truck. It had swollen so much from internal gasses that its shell was cracked in places. It oozed rot into the water around it, and the stench was revolting. Gail gagged as it passed them by. Several seabirds were perched on the body, picking morsels out from between the cracks. McCann wanted to try shooting one for food, but the others talked him out of it. They were too far away to retrieve the bird without going into the water, and none of them wanted to row any closer to the dead creature than was necessary.

“Plus,” Simon cautioned, “we don’t know what adverse effects eating that monster’s flesh might have. If the birds have been eating it, and they are sick, then it’s possible any such malady could be passed on to us.”

“You can make fire,” McCann said. “Can you summon a twelve-ounce steak out of the air, while you’re at it?”

“If I could, do you think I’d be this thin?”

McCann smiled, and for a moment, he looked like his old self. But upon closer study, Gail noticed that the smile never reached his eyes.

Simon guided them as they continued on their way, occasionally changing their course. He had no compass or other navigational equipment, but the other three never questioned his directions. They saw several more sea creatures in the distance, but none of the beasts ventured close enough to the boat to be of any concern.

Gail became aware that Novak had stopped rowing. He was sitting up straight and staring intently at the horizon. She and the others followed his gaze.

“It’s a ship,” Gail gasped.

“That’s not just any ship,” Novak said. “Unless I’m mistaken, it’s our ship.”

CHAPTER 60

The one hundred and twenty five foot long multi-hulled Catamaran drifted silently as the tide swept their small craft closer to it. Through the rain, it was impossible for them to see if there were any figures above decks.

McCann cupped his ear and listened. “I don’t hear the engines. I had them running good when we left. The intakes were free of debris, and we had four or five days worth of fuel left. They shouldn’t be having trouble.”

“Yeah,” Novak said, “but they don’t have you onboard to tend to them, either.”

“So that’s your former vessel?” Simon asked.

“It was,” Novak replied. “But the fuckers abandoned us.”

While Novak told Simon about the living island and what had happened to them since, Gail stared at the ship. She felt a surprising sense of homesickness. She’d hated living on the boat, hated the cramped conditions and the complete lack of privacy and having to make nice with people like Morgan, but now, it was something familiar in a literal sea of regret and heartache and terror. It felt like coming home.

“Do you think they mutinied?” Simon asked.

“They had to,” Novak said. “Maybe not all of them, but Morgan certainly would have. And I’m betting he convinced some of the others. If they had enough numbers, it would have been easy for him to do it.”

“Do they have weapons?”

“Yeah.” Novak counted them off on his fingers. “Several rifles and handguns with plenty of ammunition. A couple of shotguns. Plus, there’s machetes and spears and other weapons we fabricated with stuff we found along the way. Hell, they’ve even got a flamethrower.”

“So do we,” Gail said, nodding at Simon.

Novak’s eyes widened with the realization. “That’s true! Can you do that, Simon? Can you, like, shoot fire out of your hands?”

“Not quite.” Simon smiled. “Pyrokinesis doesn’t work that way. But I can use it as a defensive measure in close quarters.”

“Great,” McCann muttered. “So, we’ve got Simon giving them hot flashes, along with a bunch of letter openers and box-cutters and my dull-ass sword, against their guns. Sounds like a fair fight.”

“We’ll see,” Simon said. “Perhaps there won’t be a fight at all.”

“That another one of your tricks? Can you tell the future?”

“No. It’s merely wishful thinking on my part. It should be on your part, as well. None of us are in any shape for a protracted struggle of any kind.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky,” McCann replied, “and they’ll just pick us off with the rifles before we get any closer.”

Gail opened her mouth to respond, intent on telling McCann that she’d had enough of his surly attitude. Before she could, however, a gunshot echoed across the water. All four of them ducked down as low as they could, the makeshift oars forgotten.

Gail grasped Novak’s hand and squeezed. “They’re shooting at us!”

“I told you so,” McCann moaned.

Another shot rang out, then a third. The falling rain muffled the blasts, but they were still loud enough that Gail twitched at the sound.

Novak gave her hand another squeeze. Then he let go and slowly peered over the side. After a moment, he glanced back down at the others.

“They’re not shooting at us. They’re shooting at each other!”

CHAPTER 61

“What do we do?” Gail asked.

“Stay down.” Novak motioned to the others as the waves pushed their boat closer to the bigger vessel. “McCann, grab an oar. Let’s get alongside her.”

Gail noticed a sudden change in both Novak’s tone and demeanor. Gone was the hopelessness and fatigue that had seemed to surround him since his injury. He seemed to be his old self again. She could almost picture him standing up in their boat, cigar dangling from the corner of his mouth as he sprayed the Catamaran with a blast from his homemade flamethrower—if the weapon hadn’t still been on the ship, of course.

“How many people are on board?” Simon asked, ducking low as yet another volley of gunshots echoed across the water.

“Well, let’s see.” Novak frowned, thinking. “We lost Warren and Lynn soon after we left the boat. So that leaves Riffle, Morgan, Ben, Mylon, Paris, Caterina and Tatiana.”

“Seven of them,” Simon said. “Those aren’t such bad odds. And judging from the sounds we’re hearing, a second mutiny is underway. That might benefit us even more.”

They closed to within a few hundred yards of the ship. The rain parted enough that they could make out the outer decks. All of them appeared deserted.

“Gunshots must be coming from inside.” Novak leaned hard into his oar. “Steady, McCann. Let’s come around the aft side. There’s a ladder we can use.”

“We’re going aboard?” Gail asked, surprised.

“Well, we can’t stay out here.”

“But they’re shooting inside,” Gail insisted. “Shouldn’t we at least wait until the fight is over?”