Infestation

by William Meikle

  “The chopper. It’s all lit up.”

  “So what?”

  “It’s full of electricity.”

  *

  “Shit. McCally, Sarge, get over to the gunwale and watch the drilling rig. If anything looks like coming up, put it back down hard and fast. I’ll cover Mac when the chopper gets here. Once he and Svetlanova are on board, come back to me and we’ll cover you.”

  The two men moved away to the side. Mac slumped, almost fell. His rifle clattered away on the deck and she saw he didn’t have the energy left to retrieve it. Svetlanova put her shoulder under his good arm and held him up.

  “Don’t you fucking dare die on me, Mac,” she said in his own accent. “Not when I’m on a promise to meet your maw.”

  If he replied she didn’t hear him above the noise of the approaching chopper, but she felt the squeeze as he held her tighter.

  The chopper hovered twenty feet above the deck and started a slow descent.

  Svetlanova was beginning to believe she and Mac might get out of it alive when the attack came.

  Nothing came up the rig but they’d been outflanked without even considering the possibility of it; the doors of the cargo hold burst open. An isopod the size of a truck burst out from almost immediately below the chopper and reached upward. One of its tentacles waved too close to the rotors. The tentacle was snipped off, almost cleanly but it had been strong enough to disrupt the blades and the chopper fell, heavily onto the deck, where it was immediately engulfed by a swarm of smaller isopods pouring up and out of the hold in a wave. The chopper slid sideward as the larger isopod pushed it across the deck; Svetlanova had to drag Mac aside to avoid them both being chopped to pieces by the tail rotor. The chopper crashed, headlong into the drilling rig which started to topple with the combined weight of chopper and isopods pressing against it.

  Everything went over the side and down into the water; chopper, rig, and isopods in a squirming mass, all over the side and away into the deep. The boat shuddered, a collision somewhere below the water line that Svetlanova guessed must be part of the drilling rig hitting the hull.

  The deck of the boat heaved and there was a crack, loud like thunder, as the anchor chain finally gave way and the boat lurched, rolling heavily to starboard. The prow rose, only to splash down hard again, sending water spraying all over the forward deck, soaking them all up to their thighs.

  Then, suddenly, all was calm. Eerily quiet. Even the wind had died, holding its breath to see what happened next. The boat beneath them turned slowly with the wind and drifted slowly southward, heavy in the water.

  Mac spoke, almost a whisper, in her ear.

  “Well, that’s us fucked good and proper then.”

  - 19 -

  For Banks, it all happened in slow motion and it took a few seconds to sink in how much had changed in so little a time. He ran to the gunwale and looked over; somewhere, somewhere deep, a blue shimmering luminescence dropped away from them into the darkness. Everything left of the drilling rig went with it, including the broken canvas and wood remains of the kayaks they’d used to come aboard. There was no sign of the chopper, or its crew.

  The anchor chain had finally given way at the weak spot where they’d been cutting but in being dragged overboard, it had torn a chunk of the keel away with it. There was also the fact the boat was limping along at the whim of the wind. At the moment, it looked like they were headed straight for the bay where the harbor and post office sat, but it would only take a slight change for them to be heading into open water.

  And then we really would be totally fucked.

  He looked across the deck to where the cargo bay doors lay open, bent, buckled, and spread-eagled. There was a black hole there he didn’t want to look into.

  But someone will have to. And it will have to be done soon.

  He walked back over to what was left of his squad; he saw the same worry in their eyes he was sure must be in his own.

  Get them moving. And do it fast, before they have too much time to think.

  “Sarge, McCally, watch the bloody cargo bay. I need to call in a strike on this boat.”

  Svetlanova spoke first.

  “Not the boat. The rig. Down there on the seabed, they’re still coming through the hole we drilled. They’ll keep coming through until the breach is shut. That’s where the big ones are.”

  “Let them stay there,” McCally said. “I want off this fucking boat.”

  “We can’t,” Svetlanova said. “They crawl. They travel in swarms on the seabed. Don’t you see? How do you think those ones you met first got ashore?” She turned back to Banks. “If you’re calling in a strike, make it a big one and make it on the rig, what’s left of it, down on the bottom.”

  “Listen to the lass, Cap,” Mac said weakly. “She kens what she’s on about.”

  Banks nodded. He’d already made his mind up anyway.

  “As I said. Watch the cargo bay, lads. I’ll call in the strike.”

  He got the phone out of his pocket and punched in the code.

  “Pick up aborted catastrophically,” he said. “Calling for wildfire, at this location, ASAP.”

  “How big do you need?”

  “Everything you’ve got,” Banks said.

  “Bad?”

  “As bad as it gets.”

  “Wilco,” the voice at the other end replied. “Wildfire in one hour from this mark. Good luck.”

  Banks looked at his squad.

  “You heard? We’ve got incoming.”

  “How do we get off the boat?” McCally asked as Banks put the phone away. He still had his weapon trained on the cargo bay but, thankfully, there had been no movement from the darkness below.

  “We don’t. Not yet,” Banks replied. “If the boat’s going to hit the shore, we need to clear it of those bloody isopods first. If we’re lucky, they all buggered off with the big one chasing the chopper. But we need to check.

  “We’ve got an hour.”

  *

  “Good luck, Cap,” Mac said. “But there’ll be no running about in the dark for me. I’m done in here.”

  He slumped at Svetlanova’s side and his legs went from under him. Hynd was at his side in a second and between the sarge and the woman, they got Mac back inside to where he’d been sitting earlier, at the foot of the steps inside the door to the deck.

  He looked up and managed a wan smile.

  “I think I’ll sit here for a while, see what happens.”

  “I’ll stay with him,” Hynd said.

  “No,” Banks replied, feeling like a shit but knowing he was right to make the call. “I need you and McCally with me if we’re to clear these vermin out.”

  “Then I’ll stay with him,” Svetlanova said.

  Banks really needed to keep the woman close; she was the mission now, all that was left of it. But he couldn’t leave Mac to die alone; not after he’d already left Nolan to the same fate earlier.

  “Okay; keep the weapon,” he said to Svetlanova. “And come and find us when you can.”

  He turned to Mac.

  “Look after her, big man. Like you said afore, she’s a keeper.”

  “Aye,” Mac said. “My maw is going to be so pleased to meet her.” He spoke again as Banks turned to leave. “And Cap… waste those fuckers. Waste them all.”

  *

  Banks let McCally and Hynd have a last word with Mac. He moved away along the corridor, standing over the dead isopod that almost filled the walk space. It had leaked stinking green goop again on the floor and he took care not to stand in it. As he remembered the shots that killed it, he realized he knew something else: he had a surefire way of finding out if there were any beasts still on board. All he had to do was turn on the phone and they’d come running.

  A plan started to form but he wasn’t sure he liked it.

  We’re going to need more firepower.

  - 20 -

  Svetlanova watched the three men walk away until they were lost in the gloom farth
er down the corridor. She couldn’t see that far quite as well as before but this wasn’t more cloud cover coming over.

  It’s getting dark again already.

  Mac tried to get a cigarette from his packet but even that was too much of an effort for him. Green spittle flecked his lips and his eyes weren’t red now but milky – opaque, with a hint of green.

  “Are you still there, lass?” he said softly. “It’s getting awful dark in here.”

  “I’m here, Mac,” she replied and took his good hand in both of hers. It felt cold, clammy – a dead man’s hand.

  “I’m damned sorry you have to see me like this,” he said. “But I don’t want you fretting after I’m gone. This is the life I chose; it was always going to end in some deserted boat, or a road in the desert, or an empty power station. I was always going to be somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be. Same as it ever was for me, ask my maw when you see her.”

  “I will,” she said and knew she meant it. “I promise.”

  She lit a cigarette for them both and put one gently between his lips, where he puffed on it feebly.

  “Last one,” he said. “Something else that will please maw.”

  They smoked in silence, Mac enjoying the cigarette, Svetlanova because she had no clue what she might say to help in any way to ease what was imminent. Mac smoked his cigarette all the way down to the butt, then spat it out, leaving Svetlanova to grind it out with her heel.

  “That’s that then, lass,” he said. “Time to go.”

  He pulled away from her grip and reached, fumbling blindly for his weapon.

  “No!” Svetlanova said and knocked his hand away from the weapon.

  “Yes,” he replied softly and reached for the gun again. “I told you earlier. I don’t want to go like Nolan. I’m a soldier. Let me die like one.”

  She helped him find the rifle and put it in his hand but he couldn’t grip it; all the strength had gone from him.

  “I’ll need a bit of help here, lass,” he said. He coughed and watery green fluid flecked with blood ran over his chin. “Quickly now. Please? It’s getting really fucking dark in here.”

  She helped him get the weapon under his chin.

  “Tell my maw I always loved her,” he said. “And give her a kiss from me.”

  They both had fingers on the trigger but Svetlanova was the one who pulled it, sending two rounds into Mac’s head. He slumped aside, leaving a smear on the wall where he’d rested.

  It was mainly green.

  Svetlanova rose, tears blinding her, hefted a rifle in her arms and headed off, not really caring where she was going, needing to put as much space as she could for now between herself and the body of her dead friend.

  - 21 -

  Two quick shots echoed around Banks, McCally, and Hynd as they approached the stern. All three stopped to listen. If there were more shots, it meant a firefight and they’d go to the aid of whoever was shooting. But all fell quiet again.

  “Mac?” McCally said and Hynd nodded.

  “I think so.”

  “Bugger.”

  Banks looked at the other two.

  “Nobody else gets dead here. Are we clear? We’re all walking out of this. We owe them that much.”

  “I hear you, Cap,” Hynd said. “But we’re not having much luck this time around. A strike’s incoming and we’re adrift, dead in the water. Do we have a plan?”

  “I’m working on it,” Banks said. He tapped at the phone. “We can bring these fuckers to us anytime we want with this. But we don’t have enough firepower between the three of us to hold back a swarm. We need more bang for our buck.”

  “Well, unless we’re leaking fuel – and I didn’t see any sign of it on the way in – a boat this size carries a lot of diesel,” McCally said.

  “Aye. And it’s somewhere in yon freezing, flooded, engine room,” Banks replied. “I’d already thought of that. But in her story, Svetlanova mentioned they also carried kerosene; lots of it. Anybody seen it?”

  The other two shook their heads.

  “But there’s plenty of places we haven’t been.”

  “Aye,” Banks replied. “And barely enough time to search. But let’s get to it. It’s double time from here on, lads. And if we don’t drift far enough, the strike’s going to take us out along with everything else in a wide area, so don’t even bother worrying yet.”

  *

  They searched from the stern forward, moving quickly. They didn’t find kerosene, or much of anything worthwhile in the crew quarters and engineer’s workroom that had been swept earlier. Their luck changed at the lifeboats, where Hynd came up with a small box of six emergency flares he removed from the box and stowed in his webbing belt as they went back inside and then quickly through the rest of the decks.

  They still didn’t find kerosene but they did find Svetlanova, standing in the open doorway of the big pantry, eating hard biscuits, tears still running down her face.

  “Mac’s dead?” McCally asked.

  Svetlanova only nodded, tears running down her face.

  “You were with him at the end?” Banks asked her.

  She nodded again but still didn’t speak, just kept eating, almost mechanically. He squeezed past her, into the pantry and immediately saw what he should have also considered earlier. He kicked at a row of a dozen or so ten-liter containers on the floor.

  “Well, there’s no kerosene,” he called out. “But there’s plenty of cooking oil, gallons of it. Enough to get a job done. Now we need somewhere to stand.”

  *

  “We didn’t check the cargo hold for yon beasties, Cap,” McCally said.

  “Aye. That was deliberate. If the fuckers are in there, I didn’t want to disturb them before we had the weapons we needed for a fight. You saw how they came up out of there when the chopper came; we could try to take them again on the forward deck, although we’d be wide open if there’s a lot of them. Or we could go high, up on the top of the superstructure again. I’m swithering between the two of them.”

  “If I get a vote, I say go high,” Hynd replied. “If there’s any more of those bigger fuckers still around, I want to see them coming.”

  “I’m with the sarge,” McCally chipped in.

  Svetlanova still said nothing. She had Nolan’s rifle slung over her shoulder and Banks considered taking it from her but decided to let her be; she was in shock, clearly. But she’d also proved she could handle herself in a clinch – at least he hoped so, for they were surely going to need her on a gun before this was over.

  “The top deck it is then,” he said. “Sarge, you take Svetlanova and half of this oil; get it up on top. McCally, you’re with me with the rest of it.”

  *

  It took three trips to get six canisters of oil up onto the top deck. On the second trip, Banks had looked up to see Hynd giving him an okay sign from the top deck. It was getting dark now, the last rays of the sun washing the sea and horizon way off to the west. They were drifting, slowly, southward with the wind and the dark bulk of the island was straight ahead of them, still several hundred yards distant but getting closer. Banks tried to gauge the distance they’d traveled and how much they still had to go if they wanted to escape the coming air strike.

  He saw McCally look at the island, then at him.

  “It’s going to be touch and go, isn’t it, Cap?”

  Banks nodded.

  “And if the tide turns against us, it’s not going to end well. Let’s get this oil poured. We’ve got work to do.”

  *

  They poured oil until all six containers were empty, concentrating on the area between the open cargo bay doors and the superstructure. The list of the boat meant the heavy oil started to run but it was mostly running toward the open hold, so Banks let it find its own level. With the last canister, he got close to the dark opening. He chanced a look down. It was almost black down there but he heard them, skittering and scratching and saw faint but definite movement; blue and shimmering.


  I see you, you wee buggers.

  He saw no sign of anything larger than the dog-sized ones.

  But it doesn’t mean there aren’t any there. It’s a big hold.

  He looked up to see McCally empty the last of his oil close to where the deck met the superstructure. He jerked his thumb upward.

  It was almost show time. He had one last thing to attend to; he led McCally to the stern and had him help while they readied one of the lifeboats so it could be released quickly from its cradle.

  “The bloody thing’s holed, Cap,” McCally said.

  “Aye, lad. I’m not blind. But if I’m right, it won’t need to take us far; and it might be the thing that gets us out of here in one piece.”

  And now it is show time.

  - 22 -

  “Are you okay?” Hynd asked Svetlanova as they each carried the last two canisters of cooking oil up from the larder to the top deck. Her arms hurt from the two previous journeys, she felt dog tired and ready to lie down and sleep. But it wasn’t what the sergeant was asking her and they both knew it.

  “I’ll live,” she replied, then realized in her tiredness she’d spoken in Russian, so she repeated it in English. “I’ll live. It’s seeing them go so fast; it’s not something I’m going to forget in a while.”

  Hynd hefted his two oil canisters up onto the top deck, then came back down to take hers.

  “We remember them,” he said. “In our thoughts, in our stories, in our dreams, and in the dark nights when we can’t sleep.”

  “We’re their libraries, as they were ours? Is that it?”

  “Aye, lass. You talked to Mac long enough to learn that, at least. He’d have liked that.”

  He lifted the canisters up top, then came back to lend her a hand up the short steps to the upper deck.