Risen (Haunted Series Book 22)

by Alexie Aaron

  When she broke the surface, Mia concentrated on filling her air-starved lungs. She moved around, treading water as she tried to get a fix on where she was. She couldn’t see the Azure, but there was something large floating a few hundred yards from her. If she could reach it, she could possibly climb aboard and get high enough to release her wings.

  Ted lost sight of Mia. He turned and watched as the beast floundered briefly before it started digging itself into the sand. The island seemed to pitch inwards as if it were being broken in two. The sand moved to the center, covering the creature as it dug itself deeper with the hundred-some arms at its disposal.

  Captain Ballard fought the waves and steered the yacht towards the reef. He would have to time the strange waves in order to not hang up the bottom of the boat on the exposed reef as the water pulled back to build the next wave.

  Murphy, Kevin, and Fergus moved quickly, supporting the crew, holding them tight to the deck as the waves washed over them.

  Daphne would later claim that she heard an Irishman whisper in her ear, “Hold tight, little lass, only Jesus can walk on the waters.”

  Burt scanned the sky looking for Mia. “Come on, be a duck, not a rock.”

  Mia swam fast and hard towards what she thought was the Coast Guard cutter. She willed all her energy into her arms and legs. Unfortunately, the cutter was not anchored and was moving steadily away from her. Mia was about ready to give up when she felt something lift her up from below. Her hands connected with the shell before the sea turtle’s head popped up.

  “K. If I wasn’t touching you now, I’d swear I was hallucinating,” Mia said. The realization hit her. “You’re Guillaume’s turtle. The energy from the magician attracted you to me. He sent me with a life preserver I didn’t know I would need.” The turtle floated and moved with the waves until Mia got her knees, then her feet, underneath her, lifting her high enough to release her wings. She waited for the water to run off the oily feathers before she willed herself upward letting the wind get between her and her savior. Once she regained flight, she soared upwards and turned around until she spotted the island. She flew towards it, thanking the sea turtle with her mind for saving her. There was no answer. She didn’t expect one.

  The captain abandoned his attempt at crossing the reef. It was too dangerous with the waves this high. His crew and passengers were tired, and their edges of sanity were fraying. Never before had any of them imagined such a creature. It seemed to come from the island itself. And then there was the birdwoman. Where did she come from? This couldn’t be Sabine Norwood, could it? He was torn between tossing the Callens off the boat or regaling them with laurel leaves. He hadn’t seen them on deck once they lost the Zodiac. He hoped that Bob and the Callens had sought the safety of the cabins below and not been swept overboard.

  Ted refused to leave the deck. He continued his vigil. Burt encouraged him to come up to the top deck with a wave. Ted climbed quickly up.

  Burt smiled and pointed north. “I see wings.”

  Ted trained the monocular on the black bird and watched as it continued to come closer. The wings were attached to something shiny. “Come on, Mighty Mouse. Come to Teddy Bear.”

  “She’s got to be tired,” Burt said. “Still she looks fierce. Did you see how she flew into the eye of that thing?”

  “I think the eye may have surprised her by being so viscous. I betcha ten dollars she had no idea she was headed inside that thing,” Ted said.

  “I’m not foolish enough to bet on Mia. She’s so damn surprising.”

  “And stupid,” Mason said, climbing up. “She should have waited for Murphy. Just imagine what that axe could do inside that monster.”

  Ted’s grip tightened on the monocular. That was the only tell that he was upset with Mason’s comment.

  Burt growled, “At least she didn’t hide away in the hold.”

  “Beg your pardon, but I was swept down the stairs. Good thing too. I’ve got an idea to run by you, Ted.”

  “Go on.”

  “I need you to see.”

  “Describe your idea.”

  Mason didn’t waste time arguing with the man. He could tell that Ted wasn’t going to move until his wife’s feet were firmly planted on the deck.

  “Patrick and I found the store of air tanks. We’re thinking that maybe you could use them along with the explosives we brought.”

  “You brought explosives on this boat?” Burt clarified.

  “Just enough to open a stone wall or two… Okay, we brought enough C4 to blast our way into a mountain. In retrospect, we wouldn’t have needed as much.”

  “It’s a good thing the Feds didn’t find it when you were boarded,” Burt said. “Gerald would have a hard time explaining that to whomever favored this craft to him.”

  “There’s also some dandy metal poles. I think they’re for a marquee.”

  “So, you’re thinking the next time the beast appears, we can fire off some exploding spears…” Ted said.

  “All I know is that we have propulsion and explosion. We just need you to figure out how to get it to work.”

  Ted lowered the monocular. He reached into a pocket and drew out a small whiteboard. He quickly diagrammed a weapon using the materials Mason had mentioned. “I’ll need to cannibalize the satellite phone system to give us some control. The beast isn’t going to simply sit back and wait to be hit by your exploding darts.” He handed the board to Mason and prepared to catch Mia as she withdrew her wings and dropped down onto the boat.

  “Well, look who’s dropped in,” Ted said, cradling Mia in his arms. “Hello, Wife.”

  Mia rested her head on his shoulder. “Hello, Husband, Mason, Burt, and a very angry Captain Billard.”

  “Who are you?” Billard said.

  “Mia Martin.”

  “Where is Sabine Norwood?”

  “I expect Illinois. But I don’t know for sure.”

  “What are you?”

  “Tired, hungry, and a freak of nature. Give me a moment to refresh myself before you toss me overboard.”

  “I should toss the lot of you over, but you saved this boat and crew by your actions.”

  “Where is she?” Mia asked.

  “She?”

  “The monster, it’s female.”

  “It dug itself into the island,” Burt reported.

  “Damn. We need to get over that reef. This thing can move easier in water,” Mia warned.

  “You injured it,” Billard claimed.

  “Or did I just make it mad?” Mia replied. “Feed me so I can be of service. I’ve just tried to swim after a retreating Coast Guard cutter, which was stupid.”

  “Told you,” Mason said.

  Mia looked at Ted. “I’ll kill him later. I have a feeling I interrupted something the two of you were doing.”

  Ted, who kept sinking into thought, snapped out of it. “Yes, we’re going to build an explosive harpoon.”

  “That’s hardly sporting,” Mia teased. “Please put me down, I have legs.”

  Ted kissed her before he set her down.

  Mia’s legs almost went out from under her. She locked her knees and hobbled towards the smell of coffee brewing.

  Murphy appeared at her side. He waited until Ted went below before he all but carried Mia to the galley.

  “Thanks, Murph. How are you guys doing on this floating Cuisinart?” she asked.

  “Kevin can’t lift his head, but Fergus is in his element.”

  “How are you?”

  “I would feel better if I could get my feet on some solid ground.”

  “Closest place may actually be part kraken.”

  “Don’t know if I can draw power from evil ground? Or if I do, will I become evil?”

  Mia turned in the passageway and looked in his eyes. “Bravo, for you thinking this through. You’re so much better at this than I am. You think and react. I react and rue.”

  “That’s not exactly true,” Murphy said. “Remember, I gave the Sent
ential Woods demon an Energon cube.”

  “Oh yeah, that was you. Water under the bridge. Rising and falling water…” Mia said, lurching into the galley.

  Daphne spun around. “My god, you scared me.”

  “Sorry, hello, I’m Mia Martin,” Mia said, holding out her trembling hand.

  “Are you an angel?” Daphne asked, looking around.

  “She’s no angel,” Murphy said.

  “Who said that?” Daphne asked, looking around.

  “Who said what?” Mia asked. “Oh, my stomach growled. Daphne, let me be honest with you. We’re in a hell of a spot here. I’m a human with wings, a genetic freak if you will - anyway, I used up a lot of energy, and I need to replenish. Is there anything I can eat in here?”

  Daphne pulled out container after container of food and popped each one, in turn, in the microwave. She poured Mia a mug of coffee.

  Mia slid down and sat on the floor and used two trembling hands to guide it to her mouth.

  “Are you cold?” Daphne asked.

  “No, just spent,” Mia said, drinking down the hot liquid. “And cold. Yes, I’m cold and tired.”

  The boat shuddered as it was hit with another big wave.

  “Are we going to die?” Daphne asked, sliding down beside Mia.

  “Not if I can help it,” Mia said, looking at Murphy. “Correction. Not if we can help it.”

  Chapter Ten

  Whit and his men hit the beach. The topography of the shoreline had changed. Whether it was the event with the beast or the coming storm, really didn’t matter. They were silent after their hurried hunt through the cavern. They had almost perished when the sides of the massive stone cave seemed to close in on itself. Fortunately for them, they were at the lowest point of the place when the sides came up. Corpses rained from the alcoves that had housed them for years. The physical matter that fell in globs was beyond disgusting; it was nightmarish. It had stopped all conversation and dissention in the group. The four men had followed Whit’s lead without question.

  “We need to find weapons. Dry gunpowder, anything that will slow that beast. Maybe blow off an arm or fifty arms,” Whit instructed.

  “We have no idea how big it is. All I’ve seen are tentacles,” Simpson said.

  “Look at the size of some of those boats it pulled in. I’m thinking 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea size beast,” Whit estimated.

  Boullé tripped over a Pelican case. He opened it and pulled off the foam protection to find an AK-47 nestled in the box. “Great, a weapon but no…” He pulled the case up out of the sand, and below it was two more cases. He quickly opened them to find another AK-47 and below that a case full of cartridges. He let out a shrill whistle that brought a crewman from the Ross Bell to his side. “Seems like some gunrunners had a little problem here too.”

  “Russian gunrunners. Do we have to hurt this beast? From what I’ve seen, aside from the cruise passengers, it’s doing a great job on thinning the Caribbean of smugglers.”

  “Not my call, seaman, not my call.”

  Whit looked at the four men and what they had accomplished in such a short time. Simpson and Boullé were his best agents, but the two crewmen from the cutter had proven themselves more than up to the task. Whit spoke, “Gentlemen, each of us is capable of magnificent things. Physical powers, mental calculation, and working together will get us out of this situation.”

  The others looked at Whit with more than a measure of skepticism.

  “What I’m saying is, let us combine our thoughts and ideas. Don’t let rank or position cloud whether an idea is a good one. We are dealing with the paranormal here. These are the things that creep into your room at night. They hid in the closet and under your bed when you were a child. But they can be beaten. We are no longer children. We have been given the task of protecting this world today against some creatures that shouldn’t ever leave this island.”

  The two Coast Guard crewmen looked at each other. What had they gotten themselves into when they volunteered to escort the Feds to the island?

  “I know for you two guys this is all nightmare and fairy stories, but the three of us have seen so much shit that we can’t explain. I’ve seen the impossible happen and experienced the joy of new discoveries. What we have here is a flesh-eating parasite. Sure, we could take his advice and run, leaving our balls on the beach. But then again, we could show it what we’re made of and possibly, just possibly, take those fucking demons with us.”

  The sound of a boat maneuvering around in the water, just this side of the rocky end of the beach, caught the attention of the group. Through the blowing sand, Whit made out the yacht. “It’s the Azure. Let’s let them know we’re here.”

  Simpson fired the sixties-style flare gun he had found inside the partial cabin of an old fishing boat.

  “Flare coming from the island,” the first mate reported. “It could be a trap.”

  “We have to err on the side of possible survivors. I wish I had a clearer view. The sand is blowing on what’s left of the beach,” Billard said.

  “I’ll look,” Mia said, climbing up to the observation deck.

  “Careful, the wind is gusting. Things that precede storms are unpredictable,” Billard warned the creature he now had a hard time seeing as a woman. Women didn’t have wings.

  “Tell me about it,” Mia said and extended her wings. She avoided lowering her armor because of its destructive nature. She had already scarred the decks of the boat with her angel-steel claw boots. Mia rose upwards and then released the armor. She used it to help her buffet the wind. As she neared the shore, she saw the familiar blonde head of her former lover, just before she saw two sets of military rifles trained on her.

  “Whit, it’s Mia. Lower your weapons,” she sent into his mind.

  “It’s a friendly, lower your weapons,” he ordered. He watched in amazement as Mia landed near them, drawing her wings in the moment she landed.

  “I can take one at a time to the boat. Although, I must warn you, the Azure is in as much jeopardy as you are here,” Mia told them.

  “What took you so long?” Whit asked.

  “I’ve been here for some time,” Mia said. “Agents Simpson and Boullé can vouch for me.”

  “I swear I thought you were Ms. Norwood,” Simpson said.

  “That was the idea. I need information, and I don’t have time to ask you questions,” Mia said, approaching Whit. “Trust me and open your mind.” Mia took off her gloves and pulled Whit’s head down to hers.

  The four watched as a range of emotions flowed off the senior agent as the blonde pulled him towards her.

  “Trust me,” she said again as their foreheads touched.

  Simpson and Boullé had read about mind readers, but this was the first time they had seen one. Boullé was kicking himself as the name Mia finally registered. He put a hand on the crewman’s arm next to him and whispered, “She’s a very powerful sensitive. She may look like something out of Goosebumps, but she’s human and on our side.”

  Mia opened her eyes and pulled away. She put on her gloves while she registered what she had learned from Whit’s encounter with the demon-with-no-name.

  “Gentlemen, we have a problem. The normal way of dealing with a demon is to call out their name, and this initiates the exorcism. It has no name. The beast he calls Lamia is a very old demon. While you were held in the cavern, I injured it. She has buried herself more for stealth than to retreat. She is part of this island, and, Whit, you were right in your thoughts that the demon, we’ll call Anders, for simplicity’s sake, is afraid of her finding out that he intends to leave her here. I think we can use this. When and where, I have no idea.”

  “If she is a demon, miss, how can she understand us? And if she does, how can we be sure?”

  “You could speak to her in demon,” Mia suggested.

  “As if they offered that course at Langley,” Simpson said.

  “I can speak a little demon.”

  “I bet you ca
n,” Simpson replied. “But how do we know you’re not saying, ‘Eat me, I taste like chicken?’”

  Mia laughed. “I guess you don’t.”

  “Tell me,” Seaman Douglas said. “I’m good at languages.”

  “What do you think would convince the creature that she is being betrayed?” Mia asked. “Make it brief, you may be backed into a corner at the time.”

  “How about? He’s going to leave you, sweetheart?” Douglas offered.

  “That would do it for me,” Mia said. “I’m going to present it to your mind as I say it. Be prepared to let yourself drool and spit.” Mia once again took off her gloves. She took the young man’s face in her hands and looked into his eyes, repeating his personal phrase over and over until she was certain it would be second nature to the seaman.

  Whit cringed as Mia’s face contorted as she spoke. He shuddered to think of what his childhood friend had gone through in order to make her want to study the demon language.

  When she had finished, she had Seaman Douglas repeat it back to her. He did it perfectly.

  “Anyone else?” she asked, looking around. “Come on, just think how it would look on your resume, or you could use it in a bar…” she tempted.

  The other crewman stepped up. “I want to say, ‘I’m not your enemy, he is.’”

  Mia nodded. “Can I amend it to, ‘I’m not your enemy, I’m trying to save you?’”

  “Yes,” Seaman Brothers agreed.

  Mia repeated the procedure with Brothers.

  The Feds declined.

  “Mia, he knows you’re here. He sent his beast to kill you.”

  “The welcome could have been a wee bit warmer.”

  “He wants Sabine. He needs her as a vessel to leave the island,” Whit informed her.