The Tide (Tide Series Book 1) (8 page)

Just...a bit...more.
Dom gritted his teeth as he pushed the blade farther. The beast at last stopped its struggling and fell. Dom rolled out from underneath it as it slumped. He kicked the thing over to look at its face.

A hand clamped on Dom’s shoulder, and he spun, bringing his knife back up.

Miguel held his hands up, his rifle slung over his chest. “Whoa, it’s just me. Sorry, I couldn’t...”

“Even if you could’ve taken a shot, it wouldn’t have done shit.” Dom kicked the creature over. “Look at this nasty fucker. Covered in bones or some shit,” he said between breaths. “The only weak spot is the damn thing’s face.”

Miguel stared at the face. “Is it just me, or does this thing look almost human?”

“From the looks of it, it might’ve been human once,” Dom said.

“What the fuck kind of twisted fun house is this?” Miguel asked.

Dom let the question linger as he stared at the humanoid creature that might’ve killed Brett. Anger built in him like an over-pressurized boiler fit to explode. He wanted to lash out and stomp the monster’s face in. He gave it a final kick before marching back to the center of the rig’s helipad and signaled for his squad and Renee’s to join him. The ten Hunters stood before him, clad in their biosafety suits with their weapons clutched and ready. Each shared a similar pained expression behind their face shields. The twisted knot in his stomach was still there, but he couldn’t crumple in defeat now. They hadn’t even probed the depths of the oil platform, and if Brett had indeed made the ultimate sacrifice, Dom wouldn’t let it be in vain.

“Alpha, Bravo, anyone see more contacts?” Dom asked.

“Negative,” came the replies.

He pointed at Hector Ko and Spencer Barrett. “You two head back down to the Zodiacs. If there’s a chance we can recover Brett, I want you to do whatever you can. We don’t leave a man, dead or alive, behind. Understood?”

The former SEALs nodded. If anyone could deal with the crashing tides and the murky waves, it was those two.

“Don’t do anything stupid, though. I don’t want you swimming around, but if you can take a Zodiac to recover Brett, do it.”

Hector saluted. “You got it.” They scrambled to the edge of the rig and descended the ladder.

“That goes for everyone,” Dom said. “I want to be in and out as fast as we can. Plan still remains. Alpha team, on me. Bravo, on Renee with the lower decks. We meet in the middle, come hell or high water.” And on this rig, Dom wasn’t sure which would come first as the Hunters nodded. “One last thing before we split up. These creatures might’ve been human once, they might not. Whatever’s going on, they don’t seem to have any regard for human life. If you run into hostiles, protect yourself first and ask questions later.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” the Hunters responded.

“When it comes to killing these things, aim for their goddamned faces. These pieces of shit—at least the one that nearly killed me—are covered in some kind of armor.” He hoisted his rifle in front of him to emphasize his point. “So go for headshots, and shoot to kill.” He made a cleaving motion with his arm, directing Renee’s squad toward the entrance to the rig. “Bravo team, go!”

“Roger that, Captain,” Renee replied. She jogged to the entrance. Her squad followed and disappeared down the stairs beyond the door.

Dom led Jenna, Scott, Glenn, and Miguel next. He hesitated at the stairs. His NVGs provided a glimpse at what the shadows held, but he wondered if they’d be enough. “
Huntress
, this is Alpha One. Do you read?”

“Copy,” Chao responded. “We’ve still got live feed from your cams, too.”

“Great.” Dom started down the stairs into the first corridor with Alpha in tow. “Is there any way we can turn the lights back on in this hellhole?”

“Let me see what I can find.”

The comm link went silent as Dom started forward through the top deck corridor. He played his gun across the passage, and his Hunters probed each room as they went. Behind each door, they found cots, clothing, and toiletries. It appeared they were in the crew quarters.

Miguel emerged from one of the rooms and held up a small notebook. “Looks like a damn diary or something.”

“Take it with,” Dom said.

Miguel stowed the notebook in the bag slung across his back. They continued searching the room, stowing away anything that might help Lauren or Chao. Halfway through, Dom’s earpiece flared to life.

“Alpha, Bravo, this is Chao, do you read? Over.”

“Copy, Alpha team here,” Dom said.

“There should be two generators. Based on the facility’s specs, you’re looking for two 6.25 MVA gas turbine generators. Should be on the bottom deck where Bravo is.”

“Bravo team, did you catch all that?” Dom asked.

“Roger,” Renee replied.

Dom treaded down the hallway and slowed to a halt. Something had caught his eye. He signaled for Miguel to watch his back as he approached what looked like a torn garbage bag. He stifled a gag when he realized what it was.

In the middle of the floor, a body lay torn to pieces. Its limbs were scattered and its bones cracked open. A dark pool of blood encircled the corpse like a shadow. Dom knelt by the remains and examined what appeared to be half a femur. Most of the flesh and organs were simply gone. The remnants of flesh that did remain were starting to decay.

Dom peered inside the broken femur. Its marrow had been sucked dry. Fragments of the ribcage lay next to a SCAR. This must have been one of the mercs Meredith had sent before requesting the Hunters.

Miguel stepped forward and took a long eyeful of the remains. “Please tell me you don’t want us to take that back as evidence.”

***

R
enee planted her boots, shouldered her rifle, and scanned the shadows. In her mind’s eye, she saw Brett falling off the rig again and again. She wished she had acted sooner and intercepted the wailing beast. But regret wouldn’t keep her alive, and she forced the lingering thoughts from her mind. She knew she’d have to deal with the psychological repercussions later. Right now, she was in charge of three other lives, and she needed to be ready if Dom called for help.

“Which way?” Andris asked in a whisper.

A four-way intersection beckoned for her to make a choice and gamble on what may lay in wait for them. She nodded toward the left. “Let’s take this deck counterclockwise.”

With no doors leading off the passage, they sprinted along it. They were careful to keep their footsteps light and avoid unwarranted attention. A steel door greeted them at the end. Renee twisted the door handle and spilled inside. She played her rifle across the boxes and crates towering above her, but nothing jumped out. No terrible wails or howls echoed against the walls.

Terrence Connor, a decorated Ranger, pried off the lid of one of the crates. “Canned goods.” He pulled one out. “Green beans.” He tossed it to the floor.

“Check them all just in case,” Renee commanded. The group tore through the contents of the cargo.
Nothing.

They strode out into the hall and ran toward the intersection again. Renee led her team to another heavy steel door and leaned onto its handle. It didn’t budge. She pressed all her weight down on it, her muscles straining, each fiber exerting all the force she’d trained through her years of gymnastic conditioning and weight lifting. It didn’t give.

She waved to Terrence, and he understood immediately. She hated asking the man do the heavy lifting, but his weight might provide more leverage and get the damn door open. Terrence threw all his bulk into the door handle and shoved in with his shoulder. The door stood solid and unmoving. A small wave of relief washed through her when he couldn’t break through either. Her pride had been saved.

“My turn.” Andris Jansons stepped forward. He didn’t wait for an answer before molding a small plastic explosive around the lip of the door near the handle.

“Keep it small as possible,” Renee said.

“Just enough to open the door. No more, no less.” Andris finished placing the explosive and signaled for them to back up. “I learned explosives in Latvia, long before I became a Legionnaire with the French. They don’t know explosives like I do. You can trust me.” He held up three fingers then counted down.
Three, two, one.

The charge detonated with a low bang. A trail of smoke and dust poured from the edge of the door, and it swung open. An iron rod fell out and clanked on the floor.

Renee waved her hand to clear the smoke from her vision and crept forward, her gun shouldered. As the smoke dissipated, something became visible to her. A huddled shape wearing a set of blue coveralls lay across the floor past the metal toilets, showerheads, and sinks. She kept her gun trained on it, but it wasn’t moving. She crept closer and realized the shape had a shaggy head of dark hair. It was a body—a human body.

Renee raced forward.

“Careful!” Andris called.

There was no sign of bony protuberances on this man. His coveralls were torn and stained but otherwise didn’t look to be affected by whatever had turned the person they’d scuffled with earlier and the one in Meredith’s video into those monsters. Renee knelt by the man. Sweat matted down his black hair and dripped over his light skin. She pressed her fingers against his neck. He didn’t roar to life, nor did he flail at her like the creature above deck. A weak, almost imperceptible force pushed back against her finger.
A pulse.

He was alive.

***

D
om knelt by the picked-over corpse. The flesh was ragged and already growing rank. He plucked at the black cloth hanging from the remains. Gnaw marks scarred the bones.

Miguel took a knee beside him as the others stood guard. “What do you make of this, Chief?”

“Probably one of Webb’s other contractors.” Dom rubbed a piece of fabric between his gloved fingers. “Looks like special ops getup.” He motioned to the SCAR belonging to what little was left of this man or woman along with a crushed set of NVGs.

“Those creatures did
this
to him?” Scott asked. “Holy shit.”

Glenn glanced down the corridor. “He didn’t do it to himself.”

“Enough. Let’s move.” Dom stood and pointed at a fragment of the man’s shattered ribs. “Take that with you.”

“Serious?” Miguel asked.

“Serious as this place is dark. If we’re looking for bioweapons, we might find something there.”

“And I suppose you’re going to want us to grab a sample of one of those Skull beasts, too?”

“Skull beasts?”

“Yeah, Skulls.” Miguel withdrew a small plastic container for the collection of biohazardous samples. He also held a set of forceps he used to deposit chunks of broken rib into the container. “The damn thing that attacked you looked like a skeleton flipped outside its body, didn’t it?”

“Fair enough,” Dom said. “And yes, if we can, we’re going to want a sample of a Skull. Now, let’s see if we can’t find something more interesting than the crew quarters.”

When Miguel closed the biohazard sample container, Dom motioned for the Hunters to step in with him as they continued their exploration. Echoes of the pounding rain outside resonated within the passageways. The platform almost seemed to sway with the crashing of the storm and waves. They delved deeper into the corridors until they reached a room filled with glassware, microscopes, and contraptions that looked like squat gray refrigerators—cell incubators.

A lab,
Dom thought.
Finally someplace that might actually have something useful.

“Collect notebooks, hard drives, anything you can get your hands on,” Dom said. The Hunters did as he commanded and then gathered at the rear exit of the lab.

Dom counted down on his fingers, kicked the door open, and sprinted through. The passage opened up into a larger corridor filled with heavy metal tanks.

“Looks like a distillery or something,” Glenn said in a low voice.

“Bioreactors,” Dom corrected.

They snuck through the corridor. Dom kept his eyes on the shadows behind the vats and waited for the intense howling of the Skulls. Plastic curtains, covered with splatters of
something
, hung in another entryway. A heavy steel door drooped off its hinges. The hydraulic cylinders that had once controlled it were burst and leaking. The hair on the back of Dom’s neck stood straight. He held up a fist, signaling his team to hold up. He waited a second while he anticipated a Skull charging through the plastic curtain.

He almost jumped when his comm link crackled. “Alpha, this is Bravo,” Renee reported over the comm link. “We found somebody.”

“Not a Skull, was it?” Dom asked.

“A Skull? You mean those monsters. No.”

“Was it another commando?”

“No, but he’s alive.”

“What did he say?” Dom asked. “Did he know anything?”

“He’s out cold,” Renee said. “But I don’t think he was one of Webb’s guys. We found him behind a door. He barricaded himself in from the outside.”

“How’d he go unconscious?”

Renee hesitated. “When we blasted the door to gain entry, I think he was a bit too close.”

“Shit. What did you do with him?”

“Terrence and Andris are carrying him.”

Two less guns guarding their movement.
“Be careful.”

“Copy, Captain. It stinks something fierce down here. Like diesel.”

A new voice piped up over the comm. “Bravo, this is Chao. Sounds like you’re near the generators.”

When the radio chatter ceased, Dom directed his squad forward. They passed by the ominous bioreactors standing as silent sentries in the corridor and drew near the splattered curtains. Dom signaled Scott and Jenna to follow his movements. Ready to provide fire support, they shouldered their weapons.

Dom yanked back the ragged plastic curtains. He pushed through the remnants of a second curtain and stepped out into a large space filled with more lab benches, microscopes, biosafety cabinets, glassware, and a host of large bioreactors lining a wall. Shattered beakers and flasks lay across the tiled floor. Perspiration dripped across his forehead and smeared his biohazard suit’s clear visor. He didn’t mind the small inconvenience if it was protecting him from whatever turned people into those Skulls.