Pandora

by Joshua Grant

  Shit! Holy—just shit! Julian couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

  In the blink of an eye, Mac was dead.

  Julian felt like he had been stabbed all over again. A thousand and one good conversations; a million grudging laughs; all of it extinguished in the time it took him to pull the trigger.

  “No!” The machine gun chewed at the Abomination’s writhing back. “You motherfucker! No!”

  The creature whirled back on him just as the weapon clicked empty. It walked toward him slowly, knowing it had won. Knowing it had all the time in the world.

  That’s what you think! Julian’s thoughts burned as hot as his side. He wasn’t going to leave this place. That much was evident. Just gotta keep it here long enough for Aubrey to escape. Just a little longer.

  He tossed off the useless weapon. No use having the extra weight dragging him down. Julian grabbed the nearest body and pulled himself over it. God it hurt! He wheezed as his cuts slid over the dead man, each inch strumming the strings of his agony and adding black spots to his vision. Don’t you dare pass out! Can’t!

  He slid back to the slimy deck on the other side of the human obstacle. A brief but largely painful glance over his shoulder confirmed that the creature, even in its slow walk, had already traversed half the distance between them. It was going to dice him to ribbons within seconds and move on to bigger and better things!

  No!

  Julian smashed a fist into the deck grate—

  --and heard something rattle to his left. It was a minor thing, a light metal on metal clatter, possibly a belt buckle or badge of some kind, but it drew his curiosity all the same. Julian’s failing vision searched for the source of the disturbance. A ship security guard lay there, dead of course, half his face scooped out and used for one of Watcher’s terrible purposes. Indeed he had a badge, likely the cause of the clinking.

  Julian’s aching heart sank further. He was about to turn his attention back to crawling, maybe buy Aubrey thirty more seconds, when something shiny caught his eye. The light glint stood out in stark contrast to the black haze that was taking control of his vision. He traced the man’s arm down to his hand still clasped around—

  Julian wasted no time. He pried at the man’s rictus-riddled fingers. A few gruesome snaps and he freed the weapon, a .357 Colt Python! A damned magnum! The thing was an arm cannon that could blast a decent sized hole in a door, which raised the question of why this guy had one aboard. Maybe a collector’s item. Or maybe his grandma sent him one in a care package. Who really cares, shoot!

  He hefted the weapon up in his shaky hands. It was heavy and his arms were tired. He aimed at the abomination. God it’s so close! The thing was almost standing directly over him, its oozing dead eye slits fixed on him and containing murder. He decided to aim for those first.

  BANG!

  The silver gun kicked hard in his hands, sending fire through his joints and into his shredded side. He almost dropped it. He was awarded with a wet smack as the projectile pulverized meat, but none of it was the Abomination’s. The round buried itself into the black sludge somewhere in the ceiling.

  Dammit!

  Julian cocked the revolver and aimed again. The Abomination roared its fury, rearing up to strike. Come on. Julian sucked in an agonized breath, held it, aimed, ignoring the four spike tipped clubs that were seconds away from boring into him. He gently squeezed the trigger, slowly releasing the breath as he went.

  BANG!

  The creature reared back, roaring in pain this time, half its face blown free in a slimy flap. Julian had just given it a properly placed mouth. It looked like a bloody side grin. He decided to wipe that smile off its face. Perhaps their earlier attacks had only affected it at the surface level. The magnum certainly had the power to do the opposite. If he could just inflict damage deeper—

  BANG!

  Black fluid poured from the creature’s chest mouth in droves. It stepped back half a step, suddenly wobbly on its tree trunk legs. Julian cocked the magnum, eager to yell “timber!” But Watcher had other plans.

  He heard the squishing from the catwalk behind him, like wet fish pouring from a barrel or casserole being trampled. He turned to see what horror Watcher decided to concoct—

  --and saw Gabe coming at him, hand reaching toward his face, the meat of his fingers peeled back in bony claws. Julian reacted quickly, firing the shot into his new attacker. The boy flew back, a massive black hole burnt into his chest. Like a poisonous snake bite, veins of black dying skin twisted outward from the bloody wound. Julian would never forget the boy’s look of scorn as his body dissolved.

  Only too late did he see the smile that cropped up on his decomposing face. Alarmed, Julian turned—

  --and was drawn up into the air, a massive meaty hand coiled around his entire torso. It squeezed so tight he couldn’t breathe. The Abomination held him there, regarding him with its nasty gore-strewn face.

  “Do it!”

  The Abomination cocked its alien head—

  --and in a flash squeezed with all its goliath might. Julian felt pain like never before. His vision flashed red. The fire in his side turned into a world-killing blaze as his ribs snapped inward. He felt the broken bits sliding through the meat of his side like butter knives through a steak. He attempted to breathe but instead spit blood.

  Apparently satisfied with its handiwork, the Abomination cast him off to the side, into the central pit so he could drown to death one way or another. Slam! Julian smacked into something hard and thought for sure he was going to pass out this time. He couldn’t move, couldn’t see. Water gurgled somewhere nearby, its cold grip dragging at his legs, threatening to suck him under and claim him for its own.

  So cold. The burning in his side produced no heat. He was shivering. Ricardo. He couldn’t picture the boy’s face. What was to become of him now? In any case, it was out of Julian’s hands. He had failed to come home this time, but maybe there was still hope. Aubrey.

  Aubrey, please…please…

  He heard the Abomination move off going…somewhere. Where? He couldn’t tell. Didn’t much care. Warm blackness was finally curling around him. He pressed into it and his shivering stopped. Julian passed out.

  Chapter 33

  Stairwell, Aft

  Aubrey flew down the stairs two at a time. She didn’t want to fall, but she knew every second could mean the difference between life and death for her and Julian. He could already be dead. Her boots slammed painfully into the next deck landing but she kept going. Shut up Aubrey! He’s there! He needs you!

  She had said the same thing about Gabe—

  A fresh burst of pain swelled through her. Was any of that real? What if the kid was still on this ship somewhere, trapped but knowing she’d be along at any minute to rescue him—

  Shut UP Aubrey! He’s dead. He always has been. And Watcher is going to wish it was dead before this is over with.

  She picked up her pace, hopping three stairs this time. Watcher hadn’t made any move to come after her since she left Gabe in the cockpit of the pod, but she knew all too well that that could change at any moment. If it did decide to come looking, she was screwed. It knew where she was going and she had little more than a pistol and a few bullets to stop it.

  But I’m going to stop it!

  Her jaw set, she slammed through the Deck 1 door and catapulted into the overgrown lobby. Her boots squelched over the weird skin but she ignored it. Her focus was on one thing and one thing only. The engineering door was worse off than she feared. Skin clung to every segment of it—and was it…knitting itself closed? As she looked closer, the fungal skin on either side of the door’s outline sent strands across the chasm to each other in a vain attempt to seal the crack. Watcher didn’t want her to see what was in there.

  Or maybe it just wanted her to think it didn’t want her in there simply so she would do precisely the opposite. What if it was playing her again, using her best emotions to manipulate her into delivering the captain�
��s keycard right into its hands?

  If Julian’s dead and I open this…

  Her hand hovered at the door handle, the fate of the world weighing crushingly on it as precious seconds ticked by, each one screaming ‘bomb’ in her head. She stared at it, took a deep breath. If Julian’s dead then it’s all over anyway. Fuck it.

  She tore open the door, literally, segments along the edge ripping as they fought to delay her, and flew into the room—

  --as her step faltered. There were bodies, hundreds of them! She had never seen anything like it! Some demon had decided to take its vacation here on earth and this was its den. A dark hateful place that smelled like shit and death.

  And unless you want to permanently reside in it you’d better get moving! Against every bodily instinct she pressed forward, not really sure of where to go. She was looking for a needle in a stack of needles. Julian wasn’t standing here waiting to triumphantly greet her like she hoped. For all she knew, he was long gone by now.

  Or worse. She looked at the twisted bodies draped and plastered to every surface. Was his among them…or Gabe’s? She subconsciously avoided looking at their faces, those that had faces, for fear of finding one that was familiar.

  No, not when we’ve come all this way.

  A sound emanated from somewhere further in the room, a soft sound, maybe a moan. With the floodwater’s gurgling she couldn’t be sure. Her heart pounded harder as she moved inward. Come on, please. Human groan or terrible monster, she had to know.

  The moan came a little bit louder now. She was getting close. She scanned the chamber, her gaze and heart stopping simultaneously in the pit. Julian! Oh my God, no! Aubrey didn’t hesitate. She threw herself over the railing and down onto the engine casing that just barely protruded from the water. Julian’s feet dangled in the flow bobbing haphazardly. His hand was clasped around an old school revolver like the kind they used in the cowboy classics. Where he found it was beyond her, but he obviously needed it. He was covered in blood and wasn’t moving aside from the Celtic rhythm of his half submerged legs.

  Oh please be alive! She approached him slowly, afraid of what she might find, knowing she couldn’t take it if he too was dead. The man’s eyes were closed, his jaw slack. Something heavy landed in the bottom of her stomach bringing the rest of her down with it.

  Aubrey dropped to her knees next to him. “Julian,” she croaked, her voice barely a whisper. No response. She coughed, clearing her paper dry throat. “Julian.”

  The man didn’t move. With all the blood and low light she couldn’t even be sure he was breathing. Aubrey reached a shaky hand towards his throat, searching for a pulse. He was cold. She felt nothing there—

  Nothing! A whole lot of fucking nothing! Aubrey grabbed two fistfuls of Julian’s bloodied vest. “Wake up dammit!” She shook violently, practically lifting him off the engine. “Wake up! I can’t do this without you so—so wake up.”

  Her last words were weak, choked, dissolving into a sob that she didn’t have the strength to fight anymore. Her body ached. She was so damn tired. “Wake up,” she sobbed, laying her forehead against his chest. “Please don’t leave me alone. I need you.”

  Silence.

  Aubrey was tired. Tired of the fight she couldn’t win, just walk away from. Tired of walking away from it alone. She looked at the revolver, found her hand gliding over it on its own. She freed it from Julian’s grasp and popped open the speed loader. Two rounds left. One for Julian and one for her, destroy the brain to ensure nothing of them still existed in this world for Watcher to defile. She’d do it on the engine’s edge, make sure the seawater claimed their bodies. Maybe it was meant to be.

  Yeah, fuck that. She took a deep breath. “Wasn’t supposed to turn out like this,” she whispered, her voice sounding so small and more scared than ever before. “We were supposed to come out here and find out they had engine trouble. Carver would pay me. I was going to cure Jenny’s disease, save the world.” Aubrey laughed, a sad, hollow laugh. “I guess some dreams don’t float, and sometimes the good guys don’t get to win.”

  Aubrey looked at Julian’s face. It was a kind face, even with all the blood and grime. “You know something Julian, you’re a good guy.” She slid her head next to his, his bristly hair twining with hers. “I wish I got to know you better.” She pressed the muzzle of the revolver against her temple, her heart hammering madly.

  “Don’t,” Julian said softly. Aubrey stared at him, not sure if she actually heard it, just like she wasn’t sure if his eyes were actually just barely open and staring at her now. “It’d be a shame…to ruin that smile…before I ever get to see it.” He smiled weakly.

  The gun suddenly seemed so heavy. She let it fall to her side, still clasped tightly in her shaky grip. She practically collapsed on him, burying her face in the crook of his neck, feeling so relieved she could die. “You’re alive,” she stammered plainly. The words felt so damned good to say, and he smelled clean and good and comforting, the slight soapy aroma overpowering the iron scent of blood, and she just wanted to lean into him and lay there forever.

  “Yeah, don’t remind me,” he coughed, obviously in a lot of pain. From the looks of things at least two of his ribs were broken, maybe more. That was in addition to the numerous gashes he suffered. Maybe she should have added a ‘barely’ to her alive statement. Still, he was here! He blinked, consciousness pouring back into him by the second.

  His dazed look grew serious. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  Aubrey pulled out of the embrace. “Tell me something I don’t know. Let’s get you up—“

  Julian grabbed her arm. “No, I mean you shouldn’t have come,” his grip suddenly softened, as did his scowl, like he was just seeing her for the first time. “But I’m glad you did.”

  He brushed her hair back and kissed her, and this time she wasn’t so quick to pull away. They could be dead in a few minutes, and likely would be. She wanted to at least have this. When they finally did break apart, Julian’s expression instantly turned back to stone. “I don’t know how long I was out, but it can’t be far away.”

  Aubrey didn’t need an explanation of what ‘it’ was. She nodded slowly. Unfortunately that was the good news portion of the equation since Julian continued. “And those have been cooking for quite some time.”

  She followed his nod to the three globs of clay clinging to the engine casing just a few feet away. She’d seen the movies, enough to know what C4 looked like. “How long?” she asked in barely a whisper, her stomach turning three knots tighter.

  Julian stared her right in the eye, and she saw trust there that could not be bought in a thousand dates in a thousand lifetimes. He’d never lie to her, nor did he think she couldn’t handle the truth. “Not long enough.”

  Aubrey felt sick. A part of her would have preferred the lie. “Guess we’d better get moving then,” she tried to muster a reassuring smile, “See how far we can get.”

  “Beats lying around here.” He gestured to their surroundings. “Engine rooms always scare me.” He tried to laugh but winced instead. “Help me up. The pod is still there I take it?”

  Aubrey nodded, leaning in so he could slide an arm over her shoulders. He pressed his lips close to her ear. “Good, ‘cause Watcher’s still in here. We’re gonna have to run like hell.”

  Chapter 34

  Deck 1, Engine Room

  Aubrey helped Julian back up onto the catwalk, a delicate operation that took far too much time. She followed him up. He gasped as she helped him onto his numb feet. Teetering, he leaned into her. Aubrey was surprisingly strong despite her delicate appearance.

  “Wait, wait,” he said breathlessly. He guided her, stumbling to the left, doing his best to ignore the nauseating spin of the room. His discarded shotgun lay tucked between two dead bodies. He reached for it and gasped once more as the hardened blood mat that had formed at his side cracked, a fresh warm wetness soaking his shirt there. It hurt like hell, but the newly opened wound wasn�
�t so stiff and gave him the mobility he needed to retrieve the weapon. He leaned on it like a cane.

  Aubrey still toted the magnum in her free hand. “Right, all we need now is a couple of explosives, a roiling bonfire of smoking monster and we’ll be set,” she said cheerily but he saw the fear in her tired eyes, the way they flitted about the corners of the shadowy room.

  He didn’t blame her. They were standing on a ticking time bomb and Watcher was somewhere close. He doubted it was just going to let them walk out of the room unchallenged. “Ready?” he whispered.

  Aubrey nodded. Fear or no, the fierce determination in her eyes matched his. They were getting out of here or would die trying. Let’s make it the former.

  Arms over shoulders for support, they made their way toward the engine room exit.

  WHAM!

  A mountain of flesh descended from somewhere up above crashing into the catwalk, obstructing their view of escape. As the Abomination curled upward, straightening its stance, Julian saw that it was changing. It looked more alien somehow, more revolting. Sores had broken out randomly along its dark skin, tumorous mouths of gnashing teeth and bone that snapped open and shut. The once expressionless skin of its face had been chewed through by a tangled mess of pincer tipped legs.

  It roared death at them, the legs kicking madly in all directions, the sheer force of the cry vibrating Julian’s battered lungs, and Aubrey fired into its muscular throat on pure instinct alone. The pitch of the roar changed as a gaping hole opened up there, blood and bone spraying out the back. Julian didn’t wait to see how many Gabes would show up this time. He hefted the shotgun in one hand and fired. The weapon’s impressive force nearly blew him off his shaky feet, but Aubrey managed to brace him. The Abomination was not as lucky. The buckshot shredded its midsection, one of the snapping mouths blowing completely off, and the giant careened backwards, the one-two punch of the weapons enough to achieve the knockout.