Mega 5: Murder Island

by Jake Bible

  Darby gave her a crooked smile and nodded.

  “Must we always paint me as the liar?” Ballantine asked. “I am considerably more truthful than I am deceitful. That’s just a fact.”

  “It’s the persona you’ve cultivated,” Darren said.

  “Who am I?” Darby asked him.

  “I don’t know,” Darren said. “I’ve known you as Darby, but you’re the only one that can say who you really are.”

  “Who do you want to be?” Kinsey asked.

  Darby looked at Max and he nodded.

  “I want to be a free person,” Darby said. She slammed a fist down on the cage and everyone but Max jumped, even Ballantine. “Not from the cage, but from up here.”

  She tapped her forehead.

  “I want to be free from the emptiness,” Darby continued. “I want to be free from the hole in my mind.”

  “Okay, then be free,” Kinsey said. “Just stop trying to kill all of us.”

  “I wasn’t trying to kill you,” Darby said. “If I was trying to kill you, you’d be dead. I just wanted to know who I am. None of you know.”

  Everyone looked at Ballantine.

  “What?” he asked, trying to look innocent, but failing so miserably that it was comical. “You think I know who she is? You would be sadly mistaken.”

  “You know,” Darby said.

  “Doesn’t matter right now,” Max said. “We need your help.”

  “Why?” Darby said.

  “Because Vincent is sick and Shane is missing,” Darren said. “We need another person on the team so we can go find Shane.”

  “Vincent,” Darby said and shook her head. “Do I know that name?”

  “My father,” Kinsey said. “Commander Thorne. He’s in charge of Team Grendel.”

  Darby perked up and her hands clenched into fists. Her lips drew back from her teeth and her eyes narrowed.

  “Grendel,” she said. “I know that name. I like that name. Why do I like that name?”

  “It’s our SpecOps team,” Max said. “We go on missions to strange and exotic locations so we can kill giant monsters. Usually sharks, but we took care of those guys. Now we kill whatever is trying to kill us.”

  “I like that,” Darby said

  “I knew you would,” Max said. “You want to come along and help find my brother?”

  “Shane?” Darby asked.

  “Shane,” Max nodded.

  “He as ugly as you?” Darby asked.

  “I like to think he’s uglier,” Max replied and smiled. “But it’s a coin flip. He only has one eye.”

  “A shooter with one eye?” Darby asked and laughed. “Funny.”

  “I think so,” Max said. “Are you coming or what?”

  “You need me?” she asked.

  “We need you,” Max replied.

  “No,” Darby said and shook her head. ‘“Do you need me?”

  “I need you more than you know,” Max said, catching her meaning. “Bad.”

  “Bad,” Darby said and nodded. “Darby.”

  “Yes, that’s your name,” Ballantine said. “Very good.”

  “Fuck off, Ballantine,” Kinsey said. “She’s not a trained monkey.”

  Darby hopped to her feet and jumped the distance between the cage and the deck. Everyone but Max took a few steps back.

  “She does that,” Max said. “Clear mind makes for one jacked-up body. It’s why I want her to come along. She’s faster and stronger than she was when she knew her name.”

  “Darby,” Darby said and held out a hand. Max took it and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll be Darby for the op. When we get back, I want to know who I really am.”

  Eyes on Ballantine.

  “You’ll tell me,” Darby stated.

  “Darby, listen, I’m not going to make any promises I can’t keep,” Ballantine said.

  “When has that stopped you?” Kinsey asked.

  “I am serious,” Ballantine said. “I know you as Darby.”

  “You knew me before,” Darby said. “Don’t lie.”

  “I’m not lying,” Ballantine said. “But, if a promise is what it will take to get you to help, then I promise to tell you all I know when we return. Will that suffice?”

  “It will,” Darby said and nodded. “We need guns.”

  “We aren’t leaving tonight,” Darren said. “We need to wait for the sun to come up.”

  “Beetles?” Max asked.

  “Beetles,” Darren replied. “Popeye should have the ship sealed. Everyone should eat and get some sleep. We’re leaving at dawn.”

  “I could eat,” Darby said and pulled at Max as she walked to the hatch. “Are there more of those powdered eggs?”

  “I love you,” Max said.

  “You love Darby,” Darby replied.

  “Same thing,” Max said as they left.

  Darren, Kinsey, and Ballantine stayed right where they were. Kinsey looked at Ballantine. Darren looked at Ballantine. Ballantine looked from one to the other.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You made a promise,” Kinsey said. “You better keep it.”

  “I will,” Ballantine said. “I will tell her, and all of you, every last detail I know about her.” He sighed and clapped his hands together. “But none of you are going to like what I have to say.”

  He left them standing there.

  “We should find Dana and let her in on this,” Kinsey said. “She can help hold him to that promise.”

  “Where is Dana?” Darren asked. “I haven’t seen her since we got back aboard.”

  Chapter Eleven: Murder Island

  The Zodiacs hit the beach as the first rays of the sunrise crested the island.

  The beetles had been gone for an hour, obviously sensing the approaching dawn. They flew off the B3, leaving behind their droppings and marks of attempted entry. Once gone, the team had loaded the rafts and set out.

  Darren piloted one raft while Lucy piloted the second. They sent the Zodiacs straight up onto the sand, killing the motors just as they left the water. Everyone was out and setting up, grabbing gear, hauling equipment towards the shell of the building where Mike had met his fate underneath.

  Crates, boxes, duffel bags, Grendel was ready for whatever the island could throw at them. They had more than enough ammunition, plenty of weapons, although completely conventional since Carlos refused to give them anything experimental. He was pissed Thorne had lost the potato cannon, but that wasn’t why he’d held back. The elves just didn’t have anything left.

  Kinsey strapped a .45 to each hip and made sure she had plenty of extra magazines, six for each pistol. She double-checked she had a combat knife and at least four grenades.

  “You need help with your gear?” she asked Darby as the woman stood by one of the concrete block walls, watching everyone hustle about. Kinsey picked up an M4 and strapped it to her back then found several magazines that she stuffed into every available pocket on her pants as well as the vest she wore. “You feeling like small arms or large? I’m going with both.”

  Darby shook her head. “I don’t know. What do I use?”

  “You can kill with a broken pencil,” Max said, coming up to both of them, his .300 WinMag sniper rifle tucked into the crook of his arm. He had a .45 on his right hip and a combat knife on each thigh, but that was it. “But I’d say you should go for—Hey!”

  Darby plucked the large rifle from Max’s grip and hefted it. She balanced it between her hands then handed it back.

  “I want that,” she said and gave him a look that said she was willing to argue over it.

  Max didn’t want that argument.

  “Well, you can’t have this one,” Max said and held up a finger as a cloud formed on Darby’s features. “But, hold on, I think I have a solution to your wanting. Stay there.”

  He rushed off and Darby looked at Kinsey. Kinsey shrugged and tried not to look extremely uncomfortable around the unstable woman. Max was back in a flash with a second sniper rifle
in his hands.

  “Shane’s .338. Carlos finally got the ammo made,” Max said, handing the large rifle to Darby. “He won’t mind. I mean, he will mind because he doesn’t let me use his .338, but he’s not going to argue with you about it. He knows better.”

  Darby weighed the rifle in her hands then brought it up to her shoulder and sighted through the scope.

  “Overkill in tight quarters,” Darby said. “Hard to use when up close.”

  “It has its limits,” Max said, patting his own rifle. “But in the right hands, it’s the best tool for the job.”

  “I need something else,” Darby said. Max reached for the .338, but Darby kept her grip. “In addition.”

  “Here,” Kinsey said and plucked one of her .45s from its holster. “How about this?”

  Darby took the .45 and looked it over then handed it back. “Not right.”

  “You could always try one of Lake’s Desert Eagles,” Lucy said, joining the conversation, an M4 in her hand and her .50 caliber rifle strapped to her back. It looked heavy, but Lucy wasn’t exactly petite, so it fit just right. “I snagged two. They’re in the crate over there.”

  “A Desert Eagle?” Kinsey asked. “That’s not gonna fit in your hand.”

  “We’ll see,” Darby said, walked to the crate and set the .338 down next to it. She popped open the crate, pulled out one of the huge pistols, gripped it tight, sighted down the top, checked the action, spun it about on her finger, then reached into the crate, grabbed out a magazine, slapped it in, and racked the slide. “Yes.”

  Then she picked up the sniper rifle and gave Max a huge grin.

  “Jesus,” Max said. “Can you make me love you more?”

  “I don’t know,” Darby said as she came back over. “I’ll try. You seem to be good at it.”

  She looked a little lost, holding the huge pistol in one hand and the rifle in the other.

  “Here,” Darren said, handing Max a large holster. “Help a woman out.”

  Max strapped the holster to Darby’s waist and she slid the pistol into it.

  “I should take lead,” Ronald said. “My vision is excellent in the dark.”

  “Except you don’t have a weapon,” Darren said.

  Ronald held up his hands, showing everyone the sharp nails on each hairy finger.

  “Not good enough,” Darren said. “When the beetles come for us, we’ll need be able to fire without you in the way. You’re too big to take point, you’ll block us.”

  “Ah, that is a good point,” Ronald said. “Then I will take the rear and crush anything that decides to sneak up on us. My hearing is better than my sight. I will know if something attempts to flank us.”

  “What somethings are we expecting down there other than the beetles?” Lucy asked. “Snakes? Lizards? Spiders? What else was there?”

  “Who fucking knows,” Kinsey said. “Ballantine was only guessing. This island was supposed to be a scorched rock. He’s almost as clueless as we are.”

  “If it attacks, we kill it,” Darby said. “Knowing what it is will not help. Attack, kill.”

  “It’s the simple pleasures in life that make it all worth it,” Max said. “Attack, kill.”

  “Works for me,” Darren said. “Attack, kill.”

  “Attack, kill,” everyone said together.

  Except Ronald. “Is that a thing we say? I am not versed on the proper phrasing for an operation like this.”

  “Attack, kill,” Max said and reached up to pat Ronald on the shoulder. “Just remember those two words.”

  “I shall,” Ronald said.

  Darren walked over to the trapdoor and knelt by it. It slid aside as Kinsey worked the switches. The smell of burnt flesh, human and beetle, immediately filled the air. Darren coughed a couple of times then peered down into the hole.

  “This is going to suck,” Darren said. “I won’t lie to any of you. It’s not pretty.”

  “NVGs,” Lucy said and opened another crate. She tossed the goggles to everyone then picked up a pair for herself. “Ready?”

  “I’ve got point,” Darren said as he placed the NVGs on his head, but didn’t pull them down over his eyes. “Max, you’re behind me with Lucy. Darby behind you then Kinsey and Ronald following. It could get tight in there, so watch your fire. Also, make sure you have a target. Do not go blasting shadows.”

  “We’re pros, ‘Ren,” Kinsey said. “We got this.”

  “I know,” Darren said. “But we have no idea what we’re up against, so pay attention and be sure when you pull that trigger.”

  “Aye aye,” Kinsey said.

  “Ready?” Darren asked. They all nodded. “Good. Let’s go.”

  He swung his legs over the side of the hole then was quickly lost from sight.

  ***

  The smell was a hundred times worse down in the tunnel. It was cloying, sticky, clinging to everyone’s noses. Rotten and burnt, mixed together in equal parts, neither refusing to give the other ground, both standing out in equal measures, assaulting the air like they had an instant grudge against anyone that dared to breathe.

  “Fuck,” Darby said.

  That summed it up for the whole team.

  Darren pulled his NVGs down over his eyes and flicked them on. There was a tiny hum as they powered up. “Check your equipment.”

  Everyone pulled their goggles down, except Ronald, who did not need one. The humming increased then died as the pairs of goggles warmed up. Five pairs of glowing green eyes turned and looked down the tunnel.

  “Jesus,” Kinsey said, surveying the area. “Mike didn’t deserve to die down in a hole like this.”

  “He didn’t deserve to die at all,” Darren said. “But we don’t get to pick where we meet our end, not in this job.”

  “I’m thinking of retiring,” Max said. “Seriously. Maybe getting plastic surgery, assuming a new identity, find a fine piece of land, and just grow weed the rest of my life.”

  “Then you won’t be able to kill,” Darby said.

  “Yeah, that’s true,” Max said. “But killing is overrated. I’m sure I’ll get to take some pot shots at poachers now and again. That’ll keep me happy.”

  “Pot shots,” Darby said and laughed.

  “What?” Max asked. Then he got it. “Pot shots. Weed. Pot. Nice. You’re getting your sense of humor back.”

  “I think she’s taking on your sense of humor,” Kinsey said. “Which isn’t the best idea.”

  “I’ll retire too,” Darby said. “As soon as I find out who I am.”

  “Deal,” Max said. “We leave this hell and retire together.”

  “First things first,” Darren said, “we have to find Shane.”

  “Duh, Ditcher,” Max replied.

  “Duh, Ditcher,” Darby echoed.

  Darren sighed.

  “We move,” Darren said and turned to face the rest of the tunnel.

  It was slow going.

  Not because they encountered any beetles, those had vacated the area, but because the grenades that had been tossed down into the space had done serious structural damage. The floor was cracked and buckled, the ceiling caved in in places, and the walls looking like they’d fall over and bury everyone at any second.

  Ronald proved his worth at the first cave in.

  “Thanks,” Darren said as the huge creature set a child-sized hunk of rock to the side, making a wide enough hole for everyone to crawl through. “Maybe you should get out of the lab more often.”

  “Maybe I should,” Ronald said. “But not too often. I enjoy the physical activity, but I am afraid my mind may get bored.”

  “Bored?” Max laughed. “Ronny, bud, you just stick around. It’s never boring when Team Grendel is involved.”

  His words quickly proved true.

  Two more cave-ins later and everyone froze in place. No one dared make a sound. No one dared move a muscle. Breaths were held until the thing had disappeared through a crack in the rock wall.

  “Forty feet?” Ma
x whispered.

  “At least,” Kinsey whispered back.

  “Ronald?” Darren asked.

  “It was a python,” Ronald said. “I could not tell the species, but it may have originated from the Reticulate variety. If that is the case, then we would do well to stay clear of it and any others like it. Reticulated pythons are not known for a pleasant disposition.”

  “Snakes have dispositions?” Max asked.

  “Ballantine does,” Kinsey replied.

  “Nice,” Max chuckled.

  There was a scraping sound close by and Max’s chuckle died.

  Darren motioned for them to keep moving. They eased by the crack in the wall where the huge snake had disappeared into. Weapons covered the crack, but the snake didn’t come out at them. It must have had better things to do.

  No more cave-ins, but the tunnel did narrow, making it impossible for the team to move any other way than single file. They’d been progressing that way by default, but with the walls so close to shoulders, it meant that Darren was their defense and the rest had to hold their fire or risk shooting him. There was no wiggle room. No space to shoot around him. Their effectiveness as a team was seriously limited.

  It didn’t slow them. They continued on until they came to a T in the tunnel.

  “Left or right?” Darren asked.

  “Left,” Lucy said. “If Ballantine’s schematics are correct. We go left and should come to a main corridor that will lead us directly to the center of the island and the spaces under that trailer.”

  “Left it is,” Darren said.

  About fifty meters later, they came to the main corridor. Again, they froze in place. No huge snake, but something just as bad.

  The corridor was much larger than the tunnels they’d just traversed. Wide enough for three team members to walk shoulder to shoulder with plenty of room to move and fight without touching the walls. Which was good since the walls, and ceiling, and floor, were covered in beetles. A foot thick on every surface.

  It may have been daylight outside, but the insects were not using the time to rest. They wove in and out, crawling over and around each other in a never-ending blanket of undulating shells and clicking mandibles. Their legs made scraping noises that had to be a close second to fingernails on a chalkboard.