Outcasts (17 page)

Captain Travis pushed a button on the wall’s squawk box and spoke into it. “Officer of the deck, this is Captain Travis. Sound general quarters. Not a drill. And call the Master-at-Arms to Security please.”

Our compartment and the passageways were instantaneously filled with a siren. A voice blared over the speakers, “
Attention all hands. This is not a drill. Not a drill. All hands. General quarters. All hands to battle stations. All hands to battle stations
.”

“Okay,” Travis said, crossing arms over his chest. His voice was surprisingly calm after the raucous announcement. Outside and below us came the sound of pounding boots. “Let’s assume that is indeed Tank Ware. Is he here to earn the Chemist’s reward money?”

“No,” Katie answered. She sank into a chair beside Seaman Burke, hands over her mouth. “This is about pride. His parents are already rich.”

Travis said, “But his intentions are hostile, correct? Will he be armed?”

I shook my head, watching the silent screens. “His hands are too big to work a gun.”

“Then how in the hell does he plan on getting to you?”

“Better question,” Samantha scoffed. “Is how in the hell can you stop him?”

“He’s strong,” I said. “He can probably go through walls.”

Captain Travis arched an eyebrow and rapped a knuckle against the grey bulkhead. The metal rang. “You think he can rip this steel apart?”

“Not the hull. But the walls? No doubt.”

“And bullets won’t penetrate his skin.”

He glared at us, debating whether we were joking. “You think he’s the Incredible Hulk.”

“That’s a really good comparison,” I said, marveling at the revelation. “I wish I’d thought of that.”

“Meh,” Samantha waggled her hand. “Not as strong as the Hulk. And he can’t jump very high.”

Katie’s voice was small from her chair. “But he’s intelligent. He can think logically. He can plan.”

Four men appeared at the door. They wore camouflage and had pistols clipped to their belts. “Sir!”

Captain Travis drawled, “Gentlemen we have an unwelcome guest aboard. Potentially very dangerous. Please inspect the wet deck and report. Arrest any intruders.”

“Yes sir.”

“No,” I said. “Do not arrest. Do not engage. Call me if you see anything.”

Samantha added, “And don’t split up. Stay together. And get some bigger guns. Those little pea shooter won’t do a damn thing.”

They stared at us and at Captain Travis in confusion. Captain Travis clearly debated whether or not he bought our story. He nodded. “Maybe better listen to them, Master-at-Arms. Couldn’t hurt. This is their crazy-ass territory.”

The four Master-at-Arms took a final look at me and departed, boots clunking on the deck. Travis pulled radios off chargers and handed them to me and Samantha.

“Channel three,” he said. “CID channel. You’ll hear any…problems.”

The
San Antonio
took a large wave awkwardly. We all held on as the ship rose and twisted. From somewhere down the passageway came the sound of howling wind and lashing rain.

“His name’s Tank? Tank avoided detection and got aboard because of the chop. We can’t see in the storm.”

I asked, “How do we get Katie off the ship?”

Travis shook his head. “We don’t. Not in this weather. Not unless there’s an emergency, for the next forty-eight hours.”

“This
is
an emergency.”

“Better idea,” Samantha said. “Let’s all jump overboard and scuttle the ship. Detonate one of your missiles. He couldn’t survive that.”

Travis arched an eyebrow again. “Scuttle the two billion dollar ship? Pass. Besides, we have no missiles that big. And it’s just one man.”

“One monster. But he’s vulnerable to fire and electricity,” Samantha said.

“We’re fresh out of flame throwers, Major Gear. But I’ll check with the Chief about tasers. Meantime, stay here. Keep the door secured. I’ll be on the bridge.” He stepped out and pulled the heavy door closed. Seaman Burke immediately twisted the lock.

Samantha rummaged through chests and drawers. “Burke. Got a gun?”

“Next room, ma’am. Aft cabinet.”

She opened the weapons locker and grumbled her displeasure. I sat next to Katie and rubbed the back of her neck. Her face was pale, hands still over her mouth.

“Maybe I should talk to him,” she said quietly. “He’s reasonable.”

“No he’s not. He’s a volcano.”

“I could go with him. Get him off the ship. You come get me later?”

“You stay with me,” I said. “I’m not throwing you into a volcano to appease the gods.”

She gripped my hand. Hard.

“Chase,” Samantha growled, loading pistols. “We need to go.”

“Not yet.”

The sounds of her pistol ceased. “What do you mean?”

“You and I are fighting a larger enemy than this. You’re too valuable to die fighting Tank.”

“I’m not going to die.” She rolled her eyes.

“You might. He’s not worth it. Let’s give them a chance.”

For five long minutes we sat silently in our blue metal box, eyes on the screens as they cycled through points of view. The marines were gone but three hundred seamen and officers remained, plenty of activity to watch. The
San Antonio
worked up and down waves, and we swayed. Then, another camera went dead. Four blue screens total. Burke stared in horror. He picked up a phone with shaking hands, waited a moment, and said, “Sir, lost another camera. Just aft of the machine shop.” He replaced the phone and rewound the video to watch again.

My radio squealed, startling Katie. Captain Travis’s voice. “
Master-at-Arms, status report
.”

No answer. No sounds.

“
Master-at-Arms, report.
”

“
Sir, this is petty officer Parker. We got separated from Graves. We found evidence of the intruder. A busted hatch. Must have used a small explosive. And a crushed camera.
”

“Or a big fist,” Katie noted.

“
Where is petty officer Graves?
”

“
Unknown, sir. We’ll find’im.
”

Samantha called, “I told you! Stay together! Shut up, Chase, I know they can’t hear me.”

Silence. Just the faint buzz of power, almost undetectable at the edge of awareness. On the monitors, nothing happened. Burke pointed without comment at the three Master-at-Arms crossing a cargo bay, guns drawn.

Katie’s eyes were large and pooling. Her voice came softly, whispering between her fingers. “He never told me he wanted to kill you. But he hinted. A lot. Even his parents were scared of him. They wouldn’t always correct him when he got out of line. Their apartment was full of things he squeezed till they broke, like door handles and chairs and baseballs. He liked to bust baseballs. Broke a metal bat once. His mom loved him. Loves him. She’s a sweet lady. Very smart. She would hug him to calm him down, scratch his back to put him asleep. His dad wanted to kick him out, but his mom…she unconditionally adored him. He never hurt me. Never got mad. At first he didn’t even like me. But the more time we spent together…I don’t know what I was thinking. I knew he was a danger. But he started to like me. A lot. Said he loved me. Which means his pride is involved. Above all things, he is proud. We are an affront to his pride, and he cannot abide that.”

The cameras continued their cycle across the bank of monitors. Medical bay. Well deck. Flight deck, partially obscured by driving rain. Passage way, populated with scurrying crew. Forward cargo hold. Cafeteria. Kitchen. The bridge. Stateroom passageway. Vehicle deck, mostly empty. Machinery. Rec compartment. Fifty cameras scattered throughout the ship took their turn across the ten monitors, changing in rhythm like a clock ticking.

“How can a big guy like that disappear?” Samantha asked.

Seaman Burke answered, “No cameras in private quarters. And some of the cameras swivel between shots, so he could be timing his moves.”

“So many people,” Katie said.

“Wait. Go back.” I pointed to the second screen. Burke hit a few keys and the picture jumped onto his personal monitor. “The previous camera. The one with hovercrafts.”

“This one?”

“Yes. What’s…” We all squinted and pressed in closer to the screen, peering at a pixilated pile in the corner. “What’s that? Does it have legs?”

“Those are bodies,” Samantha said. “Two bodies.”

“Look at this,” Burke said, taping glass. His voice wavered and his breath fogged the picture. “There’s the Master-at-Arms group, on another screen near engineering. Those two bodies aren’t them.”

“Then who is it?”

“Probably the Bosun and the seamen assigned to the vehicles.” He picked up the phone and rang the bridge. “Captain, we may have located…”

He dropped the phone.

On screen, a colossus attacked the Master-at-Arms. Tank stepped out from a hatch and crushed the three petty officers against a wall. He clubbed each man once and the fight swiftly ended. One shot was fired, and its report clattered through our passage seconds later. Most of the ship heard it.

“Okay,” I said grimly, standing up. “Samantha, let’s draw him to the flight deck and kick him off.”

She chambered a round into the Beretta. “We’re ill equipped. Take this.” She pressed a fancy flashlight into my hands. “It’s the Navy’s dazzler. Similar to what Lee gave you. Blind him.”

Katie made a faint groaning noise. I kissed her forehead and we closed the door behind us. I retrieved the Thunder Stick from my stateroom and we plunged below, Dalton and Cody proceeding us, boots ringing on steel. The ship pitched abruptly, tossing all four of us forward. Water sloshed down the ladder.

From somewhere deep in the bowels of the ship, a roar. And gunfire.

“
Attention all hands. All hands. Intruder aboard. Repeat, intruder aboard. Shoot on sight. Intruder considered dangerous and hostile. Repeat, shoot on sight. And brace for heavy seas.
”

“We’re going to make him mad,” I called to the SEALs. “Let him see me. He should chase me, and I’ll lead him to the flight deck.”

“Roger that, sir!”

“I go first. He can’t kill me. At least not easily.”

We reached the vehicle deck, a vast and empty bay with few vehicles left. The remaining equipment strained against restraints as the ship worked through the swell. As I put my hands to my lips, indicating silence, my phone beeped. I cursed silently, and frantically clawed at the device.

>> HEY! TANK is aboard UR ship!!

>> puck is monitoring the security cameras!!!

I rolled my eyes and cursed again.
We know!

>> oh man oh man oh man oh man!!!

>> okay okay okay puck will help if he can

>> oh hey btw

>> the chemist emailed you

You’re telling me this NOW??

>> ur right! my fault!

>> focus!

I switched the phone to silent mode and we stalked towards the bow. Don’t worry about the Chemist. I can deal with that later. Focus on Tank.

We pressed through a doorway. I felt like we’d entered a swamp. The irate disease raging through my veins, flaring in my joints, twitching my muscles, quickening my mind, sharpening my eyesight and my sense of smell and my hearing-my whole body detected Tank. He stank of illness, though the SEALs couldn’t perceive it. I
felt
him. The assault on my sensorium turned the air shades of red and green as my brain strove to understand and process.

“Do you feel him?” I whispered.

“Like I’m being choked.”

“He can probably feel us, too.”

We crept through Tank’s fog for fifteen minutes, searching in vain. The SEALs couldn’t identify him in the air like we did, but they were on edge, jumpy. Maybe on some unconscious, preternatural level their bodies detected the threat. The surrounding tumult of a working warship masked any soft noises Tank was making as we searched over and under vehicles. We encountered more bodies. None appeared dead, but none would move any time soon either. All suffered from broken bones and bleeding skulls.

Suddenly, he roared. Gunfire. Above us. We pounded up the nearest ladder and raced along the narrow passageway. Lights were busted. Big gouges in decorative panelling. More bodies. Cries of alarm. The ship rolled and Cody slipped, landing on his back. Samantha’s teeth ground so hard I could hear them. Tank’s fury was palpable.

“We found him in here, sir.” An ensign on the deck pointed through a doorway. He lay beside two Master-at-Arms, both unconscious. The ensign’s face was white, though I saw no injuries. I flicked on the dazzler, which issued a brilliant green beam into the dark compartment. It was an empty room with four bunks and a hole through the back.

Samantha went in. “He escaped through the rear bulkhead. It’s made from a softer alloy.”

I asked the officer prone on the deck, “Where’d he go?”

“No idea, Major,” he panted, trying to maintain composure. We turned in a circle, glaring every direction in vain. Empty corridors. Only groans. “He was…everywhere. We shot him, sir. Over and over. Then he just…he was gone.”

He’d vanished.

“This ship is a city,” I growled.

“Maybe the cameras followed him,” Samantha said. “Where the hell am I? How do we get back to security?”

“Upwards,” Cody answered and we followed him back to the camera room, trudging in defeat. Katie opened the door before we knocked.

Seaman Burke pointed to the screens. Over half of them were dark. “He can go through most of the ship now,” he announced miserably. We were never going to find him.

Katie stood at the monitors, staring into them. Her hand pressed the wall to brace against the ship’s rising and falling. She spoke without breaking her gaze. “I think Tank went into the cargo hold. He ran that direction. He breaks cameras as he goes. And…” She held up her phone. “He’s texting me.”

“He’s what??” I yelped.

“He must have taken a phone from one of those bodies.” She pointed at the video screens. Dozens of men lay unmoving. Or moving slowly. She handed me the phone.

>> Katie

>> I’m here for you

>> Do you still use this phone? Please answer me. -T

Captain Travis burst into the room. His face had lost some of its color and he was sweating. “What the
hell
is going on? I want some answers. Right this very damn second. Christ almighty, that…
thing
has wiped out a tenth of my crew in the last hour.”