Pressure (12 page)

Something whipped by her head. She looked up and saw another tendril waving through the air. This one was thinner than the tentacle that Abhi had chopped in half, but the sight of it brought Carrie back to herself. She smacked it with the bucket. The appendage recoiled and then surged forward. Shouting unintelligibly, Abhi appeared at her side. He grabbed the tip of the appendage with one fist. The tentacle coiled and twisted, fighting him, but before it could break his grip, he pulled hard and swung the machete, cleaving it in half. Abhi stumbled backward, still clutching the squirming tendril. The tentacle's other half retreated, spraying blood like a fire hose all over the deck.

Carrie watched as Abhi tossed the severed appendage into the water and struggled to retain his footing. The boat rocked savagely from side to side, and the deck was slippery with blood and water. She stared down at a pink pool, and gasped as more little seahorses appeared, splashing and frolicking amidst the gore.

Then the illusion was shattered as Abhi grabbed her by the chin and tilted Carrie's eyes up to him.

“Listen to me, goddamn it. Whatever you're seeing, it isn't real. I'm seeing things, too. Remember, it's just the monster. We're hallucinating. Stay focused. Okay?”

Nodding, Carrie went back to bailing while Abhi lurched back to the controls. She noticed that he was moving stiffly, as if his legs and arms were sore. Of course, she wasn't moving as fast as she should be, either. A stiffness had crept into her bones, and the entire effort just seemed unimportant. So what if the boat sank? They could just swim to shore.

That's the toxin talking,
she thought with a sudden burst of clarity.
Get back to work, girl, or none of you are ever going to reach land
.

The boat's motor coughed, sputtered, and then roared to life. Abhi pumped a fist in the air.

“Are you with me?” he shouted.

“I'm better,” she managed to say. Her head was clearer, but it felt like her mouth was filled with cotton balls. “I'm okay. Just go.”

More waves broke over them, then receded as Abhi leaned on the throttle. The motor roared as the boat shot ahead again. Abhi laughed, and then said something that Carrie didn't understand. He kept glancing to his left, and nodding, as if having a conversation with somebody else. She realized that while she was feeling more coherent, Abhi's hallucinations were intensifying. The only way to negate them was to clear the blood from the deck, but doing so meant bailing, which only put her in further contact with the toxins.

Why hadn't the creature given up after suffering such serious injuries? What did it want? This type of determination went beyond that of a predator simply hunting for food or an animal protecting its territory. This was obsession.

The egg,
she realized.
It's after the egg. The tentacles were searching for the egg.

The motor died with a small explosion of diesel fumes as the creature ripped the tail off the engine. Abhi didn't seem to notice at first. He kept them pointed at the shore, but their speed was failing. Carrie's pulse raced as she spotted the docks about one hundred twenty yards ahead.

That's the length of a football field. I can swim that. If my arms and legs weren't so sleepy, I could swim that.

“No, dear,” her mother said, kneeling in the bloody water next to Carrie. “You'll never make it. It's better to just give up now. It will be easier that way.”

“You're not real, Mom.” Carrie felt like her mouth was stuffed with cotton balls.

“Stop being silly. Of course I'm real. You're the one who's being unrealistic.”

“I can make it. Take the egg and let that thing follow me. Abhi and Paolo will be safe.”

Her mother sighed. “You always were bullheaded, Carrie. Why can't you be more like your sister? She's so much more sensible than you ever were.”

There was a screech of crushing metal as the creature battered and shredded the boat's aft end. More of the beast had emerged from the sea, but Carrie couldn't tell which parts of its bulk were a hallucination and which portions were real. It occurred to her that maybe the neurotoxins were what accounted for its seeming abilities to change shape. Maybe those shapes weren't real at all. Then, as if to spite her and prove her wrong, the creature seemed to solidify for a moment. Before she could take it all in, the monster sank beneath the waves again, as if fleeing the sunlight.

Abhi abandoned the cabin, grabbed the oars, and desperately tried to navigate them toward the docks. The engine continued to belch smoke and diesel fumes, which only added to the already toxic atmosphere on board.

“I know,” Abhi shouted at someone who wasn't there. “I know, so just leave me alone. It was all my fault. I'll come back to her someday, if she'll still have me.”

“Abhi?”

When he didn't answer, Carrie realized that she'd whispered his name. She smacked her lips together, working up enough saliva to speak. Then she tried again, summoning all of her willpower for a brief moment of lucidity.

“Abhi! We have to swim for it.”

“I can get us there,” he argued, even as the water surged over his lap. He didn't seem to notice that the boat's aft end was gone. He simply continued to heave on the oars as the boat's bow rose slowly into the air. “It's just a matter of putting our backs into it.”

Taking care not to slip, Carrie crossed the precarious distance between them and squeezed his shoulder.

“Abhi, listen to me. We're sinking. We need to swim. You need to take Paolo and head directly for shore.”

“What about Marissa?”

“There is no Marissa. We're hallucinating. Remember?”

“No.” Abhi shook his head. Tears welled up in his eyes. “There was a Marissa. There had to be. I haven't seen her in so long. I need to tell her that I'm sorry. That it was all a mistake. That I should have told her what had happened. Why I did what I did.”

“You can tell her when you get to the shore. They have phones there. We'll call her. Okay?”

“Okay.” He sounded unsure.

A swarm of butterflies flitted around Carrie's head, arcing up toward the sun. She gazed up into the glare, shielding her eyes with her hand. The sun had grown impossibly large, seeming to fill the sky.

“It's not real,” she said, and then glanced back down at Abhi. “Are you ready? Remember what I said?”

“I need to take Paolo?”

Carrie nodded. She glanced ahead of them, and saw that the boat had drifted another ten yards or so. Closer, but the shoreline still seemed so far away.

“What about you, Carrie? What are you doing? And what about the monster? It will get us as soon as we go overboard.”

“No, it won't. I'm going to distract it while you get Paolo to shore.”

“How?”

A giant claw burst from the water and sheared more of the hull in two as easily as a pair of tin-snips would cut through a soda can. The sound it made was horrendous.

“I'll dive in and try to lead it off while approaching the docks at an angle. You get Paolo to shore!”

Before Abhi could protest or try to dissuade her, Carrie snatched up the sample bag containing the egg, took a deep, shuddering breath, and then dove over the side. She cleaved the water and slipped beneath the surface, leaving behind the sounds of fury and destruction, and returning to the one place where she truly felt at home—at peace. Except she knew now that the peace she felt was just another hallucination, a by-product of the creature's neurotoxin, lulling her into complacency. The beast had ruined even this for her.

Despite the numbness that now engulfed her entire body, Carrie grew angry. Clenching her jaw until her teeth hurt, she swam hard. She spotted the monster behind her, so enraged and injured that it hadn't yet noticed her. She didn't stop to try and get a better look at its form. There was no time. The creature had been tearing itself to shreds while attacking the boat, and as a result, the water was even more shocked with toxins than their craft had been.

Carrie darted ahead, knowing all too well that this was the swim of her life. Indeed, this swim would determine if she'd continue to
have
a life. She focused on pushing forward, resisting the urge to glance behind her for signs of pursuit. She also struggled against the creeping passiveness that settled over her again, fighting the urge to just give up and empty her lungs of air.

Remembering that the creature had seemed to abhor the sunlight, she arrowed toward the surface, hoping that would give it pause. As she rose, the already murky water grew darker around her. A frigid cold seemed to radiate through the ocean. She glanced down and saw a dark shape rocketing upward.

Then her muscles began to seize up. Excruciating cramps jolted her legs. It took every ounce of energy just to keep kicking. Her abdomen grew cold, and then numb. There was a roaring sound in her ears that belonged to neither the ocean nor her pursuer. Her vision began to blur—kaleidoscopic flashes of white and black dots danced and whirled.

“See?” her mother taunted, swimming along beside her. “You should have listened to me. There's still time to. Just give in, and stop this silly fighting. You were always so stubborn.”

Carrie refused to look at her mother. Instead, she gritted her teeth, fighting against the quickening paralysis.

Her mother clucked in exasperation. “I can't get through to her. You try talking some sense in her, dear.”

Carrie's father appeared in front of her, hovering just below the surface. A halo of sunlight crowned his head. Smiling, he stretched his arms wide, offering an embrace. Still clenching her jaw, Carrie swam through him. Her father dissipated like the seahorses, in a burst of colors. Then her head breached the surface. Carrie tried to catch a glimpse of the shore, but a wave smashed her back down before she could. When she surfaced again, her vision was blurry.

The numbness crept into her arms. She knew she could cast the egg back—just let go of the sample bag and hope the creature would pursue it instead. If she did, there was a chance she could drag herself ashore with her half-paralyzed arms alone.

No, screw that. I didn't drag it this far to let go now.

Steeling herself, she fought for the bobbing shoreline, tapping into her last store of willpower and determination. Another wave pushed her below, and she realized the water all around her had turned black. The cold was an almost physical thing, seeming to envelop her. Carrie's legs stopped moving, and she began to drift downward.

There was a sudden, excruciating pain as something speared her forearm, ripping and tearing, trying to force her to let go of the egg. Carrie twisted away, catching a glimpse of a talon as she did. It was attached to a thin, spindly arm. The serrated pincer gouged her forearm, digging a ragged trench. She watched her blood flow from the wound in the dim light, mingling with the churning water. Her arm burned. Her veins felt like fire was pumping through them.

No way, Mom. I'm not giving up. I'm not …

The dark form surrounded her, moving as if to engulf her, and Carrie knew she could no longer resist its frigid embrace. She saw legs, tentacles, claws, scales, and something that looked like an eye, but couldn't have been, because no creature on Earth had an eye that big. It stared at her. Carrie stared back, refusing to look away.

The creature blinked.

Carrie grinned, ignoring the pounding in her lungs. Her heart hammered in her chest.

This is it. I'm sorry, Paolo. I'm sorry …

Her father appeared again, and smiled. She saw the creature behind him, surging forward with arms and tentacles outstretched, but she didn't care. Her father reached for her.

Then, the monster suddenly receded and her father vanished, as Carrie was flung upward, twisting and turning, caught in a tremendous, surging wave. The unexpected momentum forced the air from her lungs. Saltwater rushed in to replace it. The roaring in her ears was all-consuming now. All thought ceased. Nothing else existed. Not her injured forearm. Not her mother's dour recriminations. Not the beast or the cold that seemed to radiate from it. Not Paolo and Abhi. Not the egg. Her entire world was the roaring sound, rushing to meet her, eager to swallow her whole.

Still, even in this state, Carrie refused to go limp. Refused to surrender.

Then the wave tossed her onto the beach face-first, and the sound slipped away with her consciousness.

 

NINE

When Carrie opened her eyes again, she thought she must be back at the hospital in Chemin Grenier. It smelled like a hospital, and the drab décor was the same. She heard a machine beeping, and decided that it sounded like a hospital, as well.

Had the entire thing just been a dream—an oxygen deprivation-induced nightmare she'd suffered while recovering from the bends? Had she been here all this time, since the initial accident with Peter? Had Paolo and Abhi and the thing in the trench been nothing more than delirium? Then she felt something tug at her arm, which was still numb, and slowly became aware that there were other people in the room with her.

She turned her head to the left and saw a man stitching up her wounded arm. So, it hadn't been a dream. She should be so lucky. The injury was real enough, which meant that its cause had been real, as well. She remembered the beast, the way it had slashed her, determined to retrieve its egg. That had really happened. All of it. Her thoughts turned to Paolo and Abhi. Where were they? Had her distraction worked? Had Abhi made it to shore? How was Paolo?

Her eyes drifted closed. They flickered open again as she felt another tug on her arm. She stared at the man, watching as he nimbly worked the needle and thread. No glue guns or medical adhesive for this apparent medical professional. He was old-school. He hummed tunelessly, seeming absorbed in the task at hand. He was obviously Mauritian, probably of Creole descent, and handsome. She assumed, given his clothing and the fact that he was sewing her up with some degree of expertise, that he must be a doctor. A nurse stood nearby, who Carrie judged to also be Mauritian.