The Adventures of Andrew Doran: Box Set

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The Adventures of Andrew Doran: Box Set Page 7

by Matthew Davenport


  I had my army and now a chance to make it to the hold.

  I leapt forward, sword raised and swung downward hitting the left shoulder of a ducking 'Spaniard' and at least one of my suspicions was confirmed. As my blade cut through clothing and flesh, it also pulled down on the high collar being worn by the man and the last piece of the puzzle fell into place.

  The man had gills along his neck.

  He was not of Spanish descent. This man was of Innsmouth, and he and his ilk were attempting to set up home in a new port town. Specifically, they were hoping to set up on the Spanish coast.

  My sword bit into the monster, body and soul, and black ink seemed to crawl under his skin. His arm, now cleaved from his body, fell to the ground and began to dissolve. This was the product of my sword.

  I was the point of the weapon that had become myself and the crew. They fanned out behind me, placing bullets and blades directly into these creatures. Our poorly built phalanx allowed us a slow progression, but progression none the less.

  One of the sea devils leapt at me, finned hands splayed and gaping maw prepared to bite me with his three inch teeth. Their advantage was shock and fear, of either I had none. I placed my boot into the midriff of the beast and then brought the pommel of my sword at the base of its skull. The beast fell to the ground and Alan, who was only a pace behind me, placed a bullet into its head.

  The next monster lunged at me with their one of their odd blades. I parried two of his jabs before attempting one of my own. The agile creature, avoided my blade completely and gave my leg a slash that burned me, dropping me to my knees. I thrust my sword at his belly, but the beast batted my blade away. I was in deep, and my crew had troubles of their own.

  In a last second effort to save my own life, I thrust my palm outward and shouted, "Ia Ia" and a bright light shone from my hand. Most of the creatures from the Necronomicon are nocturnal by nature. They can survive during the day, but are greatly hindered and weakened by the presence of sunlight. In that regard, their eyes are rarely prepared for such a bright flash of energy. Breaking the evening dusk with my finger driven light, everyone on the deck flinched and covered their eyes, giving me just enough time to drive my sword into the abdomen of the fishman. His face immediately started to turn to fluid and I moved onward before seeing the beast puddle on the deck.

  I drove my blade into two more heads and knocked my fist into the faces of three more of the monsters before Alan and I had made it to our goal. The door to hold was unprotected, which concerned me. Obviously, what they held in the hold meant a great deal to these Innsmouth monstrosities and the only door to that point should be securely guarded. This door was not. My concern might have been unnecessary with how many of the fishmen were then occupied with my friends from the crew.

  I hesitated only briefly on that thought before rushing through the door and down the stairs with Alan fast on my heels and his pistol at the ready.

  As we weaved and circled around cargo tied tightly in place, we did not come across a single fishman or sailor. It wasn't until we reached the oddly shaped cargo that the Captain had hoped to ignore.

  His hopes were left unheard. He was on his knees before the it, surrounded by fishmen. There was one fishman holding a rifle on the Captain while three others stood surrounding the cargo.

  Alan and I slowed our run as this all came into view. We stopped only feet from the Captain, and I kept my sword at the ready while indicating with my free hand that Alan should lower his gun.

  "You've lost the battle. Drop your weapons and we'll allow you to leave unmolested."

  The fishman holding the Captain hostage smiled, and it was the first expression I had seen in my former roommates. "You lie. We are taking the boat. It is required for our purposes." His voice was accented by a deep gargle, as if he was speaking from underwater.

  "I promise you that as long as I'm still standing, you've lost this battle." I waved my sword, indicating the cargo. "If you want that to reach the coast of Spain, we need to open up discussions."

  The fishman lost his smile then. "You know what it is?"

  "Your little piece of Devil's Reef? Yes, I know what it is and I know who you are. You're survivors from Innsmouth and you're hoping to create a new city for your perverse god, Dagon."

  "Hold your tongue, heathen!" The fishman hissed. As he did, he pressed the gun into the Captain's back.

  "No!" I shouted, fury filling my every word. "You're murdering innocent men up there. I'll be damned if this continues."

  I barked a word that I hoped that they did not know, and with that word I shifted behind the veil. As I've mentioned previously, being behind the veil is not for the light of heart. It suffers no fools and all who enter it are fools. Shoggoths and demons that work for the beasts of the Necronomicon use it to travel long distances, yet I have never known the paths to cut that deeply into the veil. Instead, I was capable of pressing myself into the veil enough to vanish from our reality. The geometry behind the veil is completely alien to me, or any mortal man, and I fought to keep my sanity and move with some control. My goal was not instant teleportation, as that was beyond my power, but to walk unseen across the hold. There are parallels between the dimensions, and I could see the energy that made up the souls of those in the hold. I moved to where I believed the coral from the reef would be based on where the guards had been standing and prepared myself for exiting the veil. My sanity was shredding at the edges, and I started reprimanding myself for such an idiotic ploy. It was during this reprimand that I saw the first of the beings within the veil take notice of me. It moved fast and I only barely found the energy to exit back into my reality before it devoured me.

  My ploy, while idiotic in the hazards to my person, had been perfectly executed and I know stood only a foot from the packaged coral.

  I pressed my sword against the packaging on the coral and shouted. "Step away from the Captain or my lovely and I will make short work of your cargo."

  They didn't react instantly, but when they did they made the right choice. The three guards lowered their weapons and the fishman guarding the Captain pushed him towards Alan.

  "Now what?" Asked the fishman.

  "First, what did you do with the other ships?"

  "The attack on our home lowered our numbers. We took them to procreate and fill our ranks." They'd taken the men for their perverse relations. I almost gagged.

  "Now, drop your guns." I demanded.

  The fishman who had been guarding the Captain raised his rifle to his shoulder and took aim upon me. "You do not control this situation." He then turned and gunned down Alan.

  "No!" I shouted and in that instant dragged my sword up the length of the packaging, severing ropes and paper while also biting into the coral.

  As my blade sliced into the coral, a psychic scream was released that penetrated all of my mental defenses and I fell to my knees. All over the ship I could hear as men screamed and roared in pain, but none of the pain from the men matched the screams from the monsters.

  They had fallen and now writhed with pain on the floor of the hold. I could hear that it was the same above decks as well. It had only caused me initial pain out of surprise, but had subsided to a dull vibration in the back of my skull. On the other hand, these fishmen were intricately linked with the coral and were disabled

  by my mild attack.

  I pulled my blade away from the coral and watched as the fishmen came back to themselves. "Leave this boat and the men intact and I promise you that we will deliver your cargo for you."

  The speaker asked, "How are we to trust you?"

  "You can trust in what I know. I know what you are and that if we fail in our promise I know that you will hunt us down. To every last one of us, you will hunt us down." I did know this.

  The fishman shook his head. "This relies too much on our trust of you. It is unacceptable."

  "The only other option is that I bury my sword into your coral."

  The fishman didn't like
this. He scooped up his rifle and stomped towards me.

  I, like the veil, do not suffer fools.

  In one fast movement, I buried my sword into the coral, released it, and stepped to the now fallen and writhing fishman. I then scooped up his rifle, chambered a shell, and shot him in the head. I just as quickly returned to the coral and removed my sword, noting the black veins of destroyed tissue that radiated from where my sword had entered the coral.

  I turned towards the remaining fishmen. "He chose not to trust me. My word is my bond and I will deliver this to the coast of Spain." I pointed my sword at the coral again. "Do you trust me?"

  They ignored their downed weapons and ran from the hold. I listened as feet across the deck overhead did the same, running for the railing and diving over.

  When I was certain that the boat was free of those creatures, I ran to the Captain as he sat with Alan's body.

  To my surprise, Alan was alive, albeit unconscious. The bullet had only grazed his skull and the Captain was slapping the boy as I approached.

  The Captain noted my approach and nodded towards the coral. "What do we do with that?"

  "As I told them, my word is my bond, Captain. When we near the shores of Barcelona we shall push that thing overboard."

  "Why not destroy it now?" He begged.

  "My words were not bravado. They would know, and they would hunt you down and kill you. Of that I can assure you."

  A shiver ran down the Captain's spine. "Fishmen, psychic coral, and a man who can vanish at will... I think that I need a drink, Dr. Doran."

  I nodded and smiled. "I think I'll join you after I retrieve my sidearm from my cabin."

  Chapter 3: The Whisperers in Andorra

  Aside from the failed attempt by the Innsmouth folk to take our boat, my arrival into Barcelona was otherwise unhindered.

  I did as promised and, with Captain Drowill's help, released the remains of Devil's Reef into the sea 3 miles off the coast of Spain. While many might see what I've done as helping the monsters, I try to look at it as having saved the lives of an entire ship's crew. It would be against my nature to think otherwise.

  Much to my nature's comfort, I might also have made mention to the Captain that our agreement with the displaced fishmen of Innsmouth made no mention of keeping their secret from the local governments.

  My movements through Barcelona went unnoticed by any that might have taken interest. I kept my mind and senses open and was left entirely unmolested throughout my brief stay in the beautiful Spanish town. Leaving was the only time that anyone took notice of me in any sense. Along with my ticket for passage, Dean Brandon Smythe had seen fit to give his messenger the proper documentation for when I left Spain. As Spain was my only stop that wasn't polluted by the Nazi influence, it would be the only time that I needed the papers. I presented them to the border patrol and they skimmed over them quickly. Getting out of Spain wasn't a problem, but I was sure that people trying to get into Spain were given a more thorough check.

  "Dr. Andrew Doran?" The patrolman asked in heavily accented Spanish. "Doctor of what?"

  "Archaeology." I replied and, when I recognized the look he gave me, I added, "I study ancient cultures."

  He nodded and skimmed the rest of the document before giving the 'ok' for me to continue.

  It was at that moment that I took my first steps into the principality of Andorra.

  While I had never set foot in Andorra before this trip, I did know a little about its status in World Politics. Andorra was a neutral state and has done its very best to keep that status through most of the major conflicts. They are most influenced by France and the French Government, but manage to keep distance between themselves and other nations politically. France's interest, as of late, was only military in nature and had become even more so in the wake of the Nazi push into France.

  As can be assumed, the idea of a neutral territory so close to Nazi controlled lands caused the Nazi Party concern.

  I couldn't figure out why. It wasn't as if devilishly handsome American archaeologists were planning to use Andorra as a stepping point to Berlin...

  The biggest difficulty I would have blending in would be Andorra's language. While I'm fluent in most of the romance languages, Catalan is one of the few that I have yet to grasp. Even in the Catalonian city of Barcelona, it was mostly Spanish that I had to contend with. While Catalan is Andorra's national language, the people are also speakers of French and some even speak Spanish. Their French had become increasingly better in the last few years in response to the French Garrison that had taken up residence. Of course, a French Garrison in 1941 was actually a Nazi Garrison, and tensions were running high.

  As I had expected, it looked as Andorra would be my first real attempt at avoiding suspicion.

  In the spirit of being completely honest, I was concerned. Hiding among the Night Watchers in Mexico was difficult, but they had been prepared to accept outsiders. If you ignore the fact that they worshiped beings that kidnapped and ate people in their dreams, it wasn't an overly violent situation. Andorra, and every place between it and Berlin, were Nazi lands: lands that were controlled through fear and hiding among terrified people was a dauntingly different prospect.

  Nazis or not, my plan wasn't about to change. I still needed to get to Berlin before they used the book.

  As luck would have it, I happened upon some interesting news that could facilitate my needs before I had even arrived in Barcelona.

  I had been speaking with Captain Ian about my need to get to Berlin. I had done so without explaining the why, yet explained a very vague idea of the path I would be taking. While I didn't explain to him anything about

  the book or the other monsters I would most definitely be facing, he did not push the issue. I had saved him and his crew and they would blindly follow me to the ends of the earth. It was a touching loyalty, and I felt I owed the man an explanation of my route. It was during this explanation that I mentioned Andorra and how I might enter into Nazi controlled France when we were overheard by the Captain's First Mate, Bruce Tidmore. He stepped in then, and explained that he was friends with a French man who recently escaped France through Andorra. The man had been a pilot for the French Resistance and had suffered a dangerous crash while doing reconnaissance. Barely limping away from the wreckage, the Resistance fortunately found him first and introduced him to an underground movement that ferried Resistance members to safety through Andorra. Mr. Tidmore explained, that if the Resistance could get him out, then getting me in should be no problem.

  Sadly, that was the entire extent of Bruce Tidmore's knowledge concerning the Resistance. I could find them in Andorra, yet how to find them was up to me. As to how I would do this without giving them or myself away to the French garrison was something I had yet to work out.

  Either way, I couldn't do anything until I made it to Andorra's capital city, Andorra la Vella.

  That trip was also uneventful. It took the better part of a day, but after I managed to convince a local farmer to give me a ride in his cart, I made it uneventfully.

  Having arrived in Andorra la Vella, I finally had some semblance of a plan. It involved stakeout. I began by wandering aimlessly. It had been a long day and dusk was quickly coming, but I didn't see any reason to slow my progress by getting a room or resting. Anyone in Europe would tell you that resting wasn't going to defeat the Germans.

  Wandering through the city had multiple benefits, the first of which was to get the lay of the land. I had never been to Andorra before and getting cornered because I didn't know the streets wasn't an impressive way to go. The other benefit came in learning more about the French Garrison. I used the time to look for the members of the garrison that were floating around. They, unlike the members of the Resistance, had no reason to keep their existence hidden, and made no attempt to do so. They stood out like a shoggoth at a birthday party. The garrison soldiers walked as if they owned the place, and for all I knew they very well might in the next year o
r more. It seemed that the Nazi party did not know borders and these garrisoned men certainly felt entitled to whatever fear they inspired in the local populace. I watched several rude displays of it as I wandered the city and saw soldiers rudely bumping shoulders with locals, among other things.

  There was one group of three of the soldiers that left a building and were laughing loudly. I followed them at a distance for what seemed almost an hour before I finally discovered the garrison itself. They had done like Nazis and declared an entire hotel for their headquarters. I picked a corner across the street and pretended to be a sleeping vagrant for two hours after having discovered the place.

  The wall I leaned against was a very nice wall and it told me many secrets. One particular secret that it told me was that it wasn't only French Nazis garrisoned in the hotel. There was one very angry German who came and went regularly throughout the time I watched. I took immediate notice of how all of the soldiers feared this German. I labeled him a German because he stopped directly in front of me and started shouting at one of the soldiers. The crisp angry tones of the German language could have been heard across the entire city. He was a loud man and loved displaying his authority.

  There was a second man that followed close on the German's heels. He was Indian, I believe, and wore a turban around the top of his head. He made no attempt to speak or show any emotion at the German's outbursts. He also wore large thick mittens, which seemed very odd in the almost too warm climate of the season. This sent red flags all throughout my mind and I filed it away to examine at a later time.

  It was at this time that I decided to call an end to the evening's surveillance. I took leave of the Nazi Inn and made my way back through Andorra la Vella. My goal was to get as much distance between myself and the garrison as possible. I succeeded doubly by finding a French pub on the far south side of the city. I chose

  the pub to enable careful questioning about the Resistance and hoped that luck was on my side.

 

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