“It’s all just a precaution. The patient is displaying some odd symptoms, and I want to be sure that he isn’t infectious. Nothing to worry about.”
It wasn’t the first time Goldstein had lied, and it wouldn’t be the last, but it was the first time that he was having to battle his conscience over it. The money was helping though—enough that he could finally retire and stop having to spend every day of his life worrying about other people.
“Are you sure we’re okay, doc?” Frank asked nervously, his clothes soaked with nervous sweat.
“We’re fine. None of us had any physical contact with the substance, and I’m certain we’re not dealing with an infectious disease. Just try and relax—it’ll be over before you know it.”
“So, what do we do until then?” George asked.
The doctor picked up the sealed jar of the substance that he had taken. “I need to examine this as much as I can. The sooner I discover what this is, the sooner we can all go back to our lives. Such as they are down here anyway.”
***
Meanwhile, in the medical bay, Billy was twitching. It wasn’t conscious movement, as he was still out cold, but rather something was moving him. Underneath his skin, things moved, causing it to undulate in unnatural ways. The fluid still leaked from his ears, nose, mouth, and eyes, but only minute traces, as if it did not want to leave the body anymore.
Suddenly, Billy started to spasm, his limbs thrashing violently, his breathing becoming ragged and harsh. He twisted and yanked, and there was a sickening snap as his neck bent at an odd angle, but he did not stop moving for a full minute, until finally, he settled.
His chest continued to rise and fall, his eyes moved behind closed eyelids, and his fingers twitched intermittently. If someone had been watching him closely, they would also have seen the black fluid flowing back into him, slowly, working its way back into his body.
Soon, all of it had flowed back into the unconscious man. A second later, his twitching stopped and he lay still for a moment. His breathing stopped—but only for a minute—then his eyes popped open and he gasped, drawing air deep into his lungs.
Billy blinked in the harsh light of sick bay. He felt different somehow, wrong in a way he couldn’t quite place. Better, for sure, but there was something that was off. It scared him.
The man lay still for a while, doing a mental check of his body. He started by twitching his toes and moved up from there. Everything seemed to be working. His breathing was normal, if a little laboured. Physically, he seemed fine, except for a slight headache.
He reached up and touched the wound on his forehead. It was barely a scratch, which was odd because he seemed to remember it being a lot worse. Then again, he realised that he didn’t remember very much.
All he could recall were bits and pieces. Vague memories of being in the maintenance tunnels, a blockage, black gunk, and pain. Excruciating pain. But that was gone now, although there was something else in its place.
Billy swung his feet off the edge of the gurney and sat up. His head swam a bit, his vision blurring slightly. After a couple of deep breaths, it settled. The room stopped spinning, and he risked standing up.
The tiled floor was freezing cold against his bare feet. He realised just then that he was shivering slightly. At some point, they’d taken off his clothes and dressed him in a hospital gown.
He had an urge to call out, to ask for help, but something was stopping him. It was like there was something influencing his decisions, but of course that was ridiculous. He was fine. He felt fine. Didn’t he?
The answer that occurred to him was simple. No. He wasn’t. Something was seriously wrong, and it was scaring him. It scared him more that he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. He felt a tear roll down his cheek. His instincts were telling him to call for help, to scream for it, but he couldn’t.
Billy felt trapped, even though he wasn’t. It was like he didn’t quite have full control. He raised his hand to his face. It did as he wanted. He made a fist, and his index finger remained straight. He tried again, but the result was the same.
As he struggled to curl his index finger inward, something else happened. To his horror, his other fingers started to unfurl themselves, starting with his thumb. There was excruciating pain as it happened, his muscles fighting against what was being done, his brain struggling to do what he wanted, but it was no use.
Billy watched, unable to cry or call out, as his hand took on a life of its own, clenching and opening a few more times before stopping. His skin rippled, as if hundreds of tiny bugs were crawling beneath it. He stared open-mouthed at it, unable to fully comprehend what was happening. Something had just taken control of his hand.
Then it stopped, as suddenly as it had begun. He had control of his hand again, and this time he was able to make a fist. He clenched it as hard as he could for a moment, before he threw up all over the floor.
Black gunk poured out of his mouth, the viscous liquid pooling at his feet. He continued to wretch, his body wracking each time, the pain in his throat almost unbearable. It felt like the black goo was forcing its way up his throat, desperate to get out.
Finally, it stopped, and Billy fell backward, hitting the floor with a dull thump. His head bounced off the steel surface, causing him to see stars. He was vaguely aware that the door to the room had opened. There was someone in the room.
Frank had watched Billy puke, as well as saw him fall. He hurriedly slipped into a hazard suit and entered the room, closing the door behind him. He winced when the door sealed with a metallic thunk as his heart beat harder in his chest.
“Billy?” Frank asked, moving forward slowly, gingerly avoiding the black gunk that was spreading across the floor.
Billy lifted his hand up toward Frank. He groaned as his body twitched.
“It’s going to be okay, man. Let me just get you back up on the bed.”
As Frank moved toward Billy, he could have sworn the stuff on the floor was reacting to his movements. But that was crazy, wasn’t it?
Dismissing the thoughts from his mind, Frank reached down and grasped Billy’s hand. That’s when Billy’s other hand moved.
It shot out and grabbed the hazard suit at Frank’s leg, before pulling back. There was a dreadful tearing sound that made Frank’s blood run cold. He looked down to a see that his suit’s integrity was severely compromised.
“How the hell…?” He asked in disbelief, wondering how the man had had the strength to tear his suit. But then he noticed the black goop. It was moving up his leg. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
Frank tried to leap backward, but his leg was stuck to the floor, held solid by the black stuff that was heading toward the rip in his suit. He tried to scrape it off with his hands, but all that happened was that his hands got stuck to his leg.
The stuff was moving faster and faster, flowing into the tear. He could feel it against his skin, soft, slimy, and freezing cold. He tried to scream but couldn’t manage it. Soon the stuff was flowing into his body. It went through every opening it could find.
Frank jittered and twitched as the stuff flooded into him. As he looked up to let out a silent scream of horror, the gunk filled up his eyes, turning them an inky black.
10
“As soon as we get down there, I want you to head to the medical bay,” Calder said. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
Ekkow nodded. “I’ve got the same feeling, bruv.”
“Take one of our guys with you. Someone you trust.”
“Gotcha.”
Ekkow hurried off, grabbing a man on the way. Calder turned and looked out to sea. They were on the rig, all the guests were getting ready to board the subs, and the ocean looked peaceful. Yet Calder couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up.
He peered down into the water, wishing he could see all the way down to The Kingdom. The last ten minutes of his life had been wasted arguing with Thompson about postponing the launch. It had all culminated in the rich ar
sehole threatening to fire him if he kept pushing. Which would have meant that Calder wouldn’t be going down, and he felt he’d be needed down there.
The weight of the Sig in its holster gave him some comfort, but he hoped he wouldn’t need it. If it was a biological problem down there, there was nothing the weapon could do anyway. Unless the threat happened to be zombies.
He chuckled at the thought. The chuckle turned into a nostalgic smile as he remembered the time he and his little sister had stayed up late to watch a movie they weren’t supposed to—Night of the Living Dead, the original ‘60s version. He’d had nightmares for weeks afterward. His sister, on the other hand, had made the smart choice and hidden behind the couch the whole time.
“What’s so funny, soldier?” Priya asked, coming up behind him, with a Chinese girl in tow.
“Old memories.” He extended his hand to the young lady. “Axel Calder.”
“Anna,” the girl said. “So, you’re security, huh?”
She had clocked the gun.
“Not just security,” Priya said. “He’s Head of Security. This man’s job is to keep us safe down there.”
“I’m impressed,” Anna said, somewhat sarcastically. “Bet that sidearm will come in really handy against all those weird fish.”
Calder laughed. “A job by any other name. How’s the picture taking coming along?”
“Splendidly, thanks,” Priya replied, snapping a quick picture of him. “I’ve never seen so many glamorous people in all my life.”
“You get used to it. Hanging out with Thompson has given me ample chance to do so.”
“You see?” Anna said, playfully slapping Priya’s shoulder, then quickly shoving her hands in her pockets and stumbling over the next few words. “I told you that you would.”
“Priya, can I talk to you for a moment?” Calder asked, motioning her away.
“Sure. Give me a moment, will you please, Anna?”
“No problem. I’ll go and get my stuff ready for the sub. Later.”
“What is it?” Priya asked, once Anna was out of earshot.
“There’s something going on down there. A man was injured, and Thompson wants this launch to go through, despite my objections.”
“Your gut is telling you something is wrong, isn’t it?”
“Yes, luv. So I want you and Jones to be careful down there. If shit goes down, you stick with my men and me. We’ll keep you safe.”
“What are you worried about exactly? You’re talking like there’s going to be some kind of attack.”
“You ever get the feeling that something is very wrong, and you can’t quite put your finger on why? Like the world is slowly coming to an end and you’re the only burke who hasn’t noticed yet.”
“Maybe.”
“Well, that’s how I feel right now. And I felt something similar on the day Jones’ brother was killed. I wasn’t prepared for shit to hit that fan then, but I sure as hell will be today.”
Priya studied his face. The hard lines, the piercing eyes, the seriousness and pain that lived behind them.
“Okay. I’ll tell Jones.”
“Good. And keep that young girl close to you. I’m not having another child’s death on my conscience.”
Priya caught herself before she asked the obvious question—another?—and instead nodded and hurried off.
“Ekkow? One more thing,” Calder said, keying his radio.
“Yes, boss?”
“I want the heavy ordnance on this one, you get me, mate?”
“Loud and clear, boss.”
Calder turned and stared out across the ocean, watching it rise and fall rhythmically. Those dark waters were hiding something, he was sure of it. The sick, empty pit in his stomach told him so.
The only question was—what the hell was it?
***
Jones stared at the mini-subs that were going to ferry them to The Kingdom. He was feeling slightly queasy just looking at the cramped little things. Thompson had to be crazy to think that people would pay for this. A shrill laugh behind him almost instantly proved how wrong he was.
Tight spaces had never been his thing. Hell, the only reason he’d volunteered for this job was Richie. But he was already shitting himself at the thought of being under all that water in cramped quarters.
“She’s a beauty, ain’t she?” Richie said.
“That’s one word for it, I guess.”
“I love these things. State of the art, first class tech. One thing about Thompson, he doesn’t skimp where it counts. Mostly anyway.”
“You don’t know me very well, do you, Richie?”
Richie gave him a look of surprise before realisation dawned. “Oh shit…”
“Yeah. Ever since I was a kid.”
“Fuck. I completely forgot, otherwise I’d never have asked for your help.”
Jones laughed. “Yes, you would have, you selfish bastard.”
“You’ve got me there. But seriously, you won’t be in one of these for too long, and the Kingdom has more room than you’re imagining.”
“I fucking hope so, man. Otherwise, I’m not going to survive this one. At least the headlines will be funny. Famous War Journalist Dies of Stress-Induced Heart Failure.”
Richie let out a bark of laughter. “Uh-huh. I’ll make sure young Priya writes them then. Okay, man, looks like Thompson is about to do his charm and schmarm thing. I’ve gotta get upstairs and get things ready.” He held out his hand. “Good luck, man.”
“Thanks. I think I’ll need it.”
11
“Jones, you’ve got to see this!” Priya exclaimed.
She was staring in awe out the small porthole. Beside her, Anna was doing the same. Jones, on the other hand, was desperately trying not to have a panic attack. He had already broken out in a cold sweat, and they had barely begun their journey to the hotel.
Outside the porthole, the water was becoming gradually darker the deeper they went. Fish and other types of marine life swam by, beautiful, somewhat startled by the weird metal creature that went past them. The old joke about a tin of people came to Priya’s mind as she surveyed the alien world outside.
“Just try to breathe,” Calder whispered to Jones. “Be over before you know it.”
Somehow, Jones doubted that. But he appreciated the sentiment nonetheless. Anna and Priya were calling out the various things they saw. Priya commenting that she wished she could get photos.
“Oh we can get you some of those, ma’am,” the pilot, an ex-marine named Jackson, said. “We had some professional photographers from the BBC come down to do it for us. I’ll make sure to ask if we can give the ones we’ve not already used.”
“Awesome!”
But the view soon turned into nothing but inky blackness. They had gone beyond the point that the light of the sun could reach. To a place where no natural light would ever reach. Jones found himself wondering what it would be like to live down there in the dark, dangerous depths.
He quickly dismissed the thoughts from his mind. There were some things that man was not meant to know, and the depths of the ocean were one of them. There was a reason it was one of the few truly unexplored places on earth, with 95% of it still being a complete mystery.
Yet here they were, heading down into the dark in a tiny submarine, to a giant underwater hotel called The Kingdom. Jones wondered if Thompson thought of himself as the god Poseidon. It would explain the name, and having met the man, he wouldn’t have been surprised if that was the case.
There was something about his arrogance, to think that he could tame what billions of others had not, just because he had money. In the Greek myths, people that attempted to do what the gods had not meant them to had all suffered terrible fates for their hubris.
Jones caught himself staring out the porthole into the blackness, his gaze drawn to it. His thoughts were starting to blur, as if his mind were drifting through the dark water outside. But it was not drifting aimlessly—it was heading toward
something.
Come to me…
Come to me…
Come to me…
“Jones!” Priya shouted, shaking him back to reality, a look of concern mixed with fear etched into her face.
“Sorry. I must have drifted off.”
“You were talking,” Anna said. There was a note of fear in her voice that sent a shiver down Jones’ spine.
He saw that everyone’s eyes were on him, even Jackson’s, who had turned in his seat.
“What? What was I saying?”
“Come to me…”
***
As The Kingdom came into view through the small porthole, Thompson couldn’t help but smile. He finally felt good. The overwhelming anxiety that had been plaguing him since the first moment he dreamt up the project had finally begun to lift, and now that he was on his way toward his dream, he could feel the tension easing.
The Kingdom was a circular, dome-like structure located in the middle of an expansive and flat part of the ocean floor. Lights dotted the exterior, with the central dome shining bright like a beacon. It was made out of specialised glass, strong enough to withstand the ocean’s pressures, just so his guests could dine with a view of the ocean and its inhabitants overhead.
He had no idea how long it had taken him to get to this moment. Ever since he had first seen it in his dream, he had felt an overwhelming desire to achieve it—no matter what it cost. With drive, determination, investors, and billions of dollars, he had kept at it, until he had even fallen off the list of Forbes billionaires.
The years had blurred together into one great amalgam of business meetings, negotiations, and sleepless nights. It was as if something was behind him, spurring him on through the days when he felt like he had nothing left to give.
He’d lost his trophy wife, his kids, even his damn dog when the bitch had taken it from him.
Deep Fear Page 4