by J G Cressey
“Everyone ready?” he asked, glancing back into the apartment. The others were a few paces behind him, lined up and wielding various sharp kitchen utensils. As fortune would have it, the owner of the apartment was keen on cooking—or at least wanted to appear so—and the kitchen harbored enough kit to supply an entire restaurant.
Having discarded the knife she’d snapped, Eddy rearmed herself with a cleaver that looked fit for the burliest of butchers. She was clearly still suffering, trembling through her sweat-soaked clothes, jaw muscles bunched as she worked her clenched teeth. But if her fierce eyes were anything to go by, she was entirely unwilling to yield to the lasting panic. Cal gave her an encouraging nod and thought her more courageous in that moment than any other. He’d always wondered whether she was truly brave or simply unhinged, perhaps a chunk missing from her amygdala. But as he witnessed her battling to smother her fear and prepare to charge through the door, he thought her the very personification of courage.
Eddy wasn’t the only one showing conflicting emotions. Stevenson, Jacobs, and Peterson had that gleam in their eyes that was familiar in all who’d sampled the Xcel serum for the first time. A great deal of heavy furniture had been held aloft in the past few minutes, but despite the overwhelming intensity of the experience, it still wasn’t enough to fully extinguish their distress. All three wore the look of someone who’d won the lottery on the very same day they’d been enlisted for the front line of a losing war.
Next to them, the small, elderly man was holding his unconscious, buxom wife in his arms as if she were no heavier than a plastic mannequin. His past fear and anger now seemed overshadowed by bewilderment as he looked about the room, his wide, wondering eyes making him seem like a man trying to wake from a strange dream.
In the middle of the group, directly in line with the door, Melinda was crouched like a sprinter ready to burst from the starting block. Cal nodded at her, and she shot him a quick acknowledging smile that bumped his confidence up a notch. He then turned and looked at Jumper, who stood apart from the rest with Stevenson’s pistol directed at the door, his hand steady as ever.
“Okay,” Cal said. “Remember, we move on the second opening. And when I say move, I mean it. I want you all testing this newfound speed of yours. The faster we get to the docks, the faster we can break out the big guns.” Cal glanced back one last time. “On the count of three then.”
“One…”
“Two…”
He hit the button.
As if it too had been listening to the countdown, the first Kratanu burst through the opening in an instant. But Cal didn’t let it in…at least not all of it. Only two and a half tentacles and about a third of the beast’s body had made it past the threshold when Cal once again hit the button. The closing door sliced through the creature like a knife through a ripe pear, the jelly-like flesh hitting the floor with a lifeless, wet thwack.
Confident the beast was dead, Cal opened the door for a second time, allowing Melinda to surge forward and barrel into the dead creature, using her impressive strength and momentum to smash its bulky remains away from the opening. Jumper followed her and wasted no time firing Stevenson’s pistol at the second beast, which was already trying to get past its slain kin.
Cal went next with the others close behind. A speedy glance confirmed that they were indeed only dealing with two Kratanu, and the surviving one was already recoiling from Jumper’s pistol fire. With the continued sound of the shots at his back, Cal urged the others down the corridor.
Unused to his newfound speed, Stevenson stumbled on a number of occasions and, in his eagerness, almost collided with the door controls at the corridor’s end.
“Take it steady, Stevenson,” Cal called to him. “You’ll not do us any favors if you knock yourself out cold.” He turned to see Jumper and Melinda gradually backing their way toward them, the Kratanu relentlessly attempting to close the gap. In a bid to save the pistol’s charge, Jumper’s shots were periodical and carefully aimed—not enough to kill the beast but sufficient to keep it at bay.
“Anything bursts through that door, Stevenson, you shut it damn quick and chop the bastard in half.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Fortunately, the captain’s best wasn’t required, and the door slid aside to reveal nothing but another long, empty corridor. Stepping through, Douglas pointed eagerly with the long filleting knife he held. “We get to the end of this corridor and we’ll have reached the main thoroughfare.”
Eddy gave him a hard shove. “Don’t keep bloody talking about it, fatty. Flippin’ well move.”
Heeding the girl’s advice, Douglas set off at a run. Cal held back, hovering by the door and shutting it as soon as Jumper and Melinda were through, separating them from the Kratanu with a loud, satisfying thump.
“How’s that charge looking?” Cal asked Jumper as they ran to catch up with the others.
“Nine percent. Should be enough to keep a couple more beasts at bay.”
“Hopefully, we won’t need it. We’re almost at the dock. Assuming the main thoroughfare is relatively clear, we should be just fine.”
The main thoroughfare was chaos.
Stevenson had opened the door only to be blasted by a torrent of shouting, screaming, and gunfire. Two Kratanu attacked them almost immediately, a whipping tentacle bashing Stevenson aside before he could even think about shutting the door. The two beasts came at them with such aggression that kitchen blades were well and truly put to the test, and Jumper was forced to use half of his remaining charge to kill them.
With no other option left, they ran headlong into the chaos.
Kratanu filled the scene. Many were unmoving—either dead or busily feeding—but many more were in full motion, nightmarish blurs as they closed in on their prey, their all-consuming urge to feed a terrifying thing. People were fleeing in every direction, some colliding, some falling, and others running unwittingly into predatory grasps. Panic, it seemed, had swallowed all sense of orientation.
It was a shocking sight, but Cal was bolstered by the sound of gunfire. Already, he’d spotted a few guards, all armed with rifles, the blasts of which were proving far more effective than the slimline, overly ornate pistols. Some of the civilians were armed too—those souls quick enough to retrieve weapons from their ships and brave enough to return back into the fray to put them to use.
As he ran, Cal found himself relying on his chef’s knife almost constantly, swinging it up in hard, sharp arcs as tentacles whipped toward him or made a grab for those running nearby. Sometimes, his strikes were more luck than anything else, the speed and the transparency of the Kratanu flesh making it hard to judge the foe. But when he was successful, the Xcel gave him the strength to cause serious damage.
Up ahead, he could see the elderly man from the apartment running like an Olympian, his buxom wife held effortlessly in his frail arms. Occasionally, the man would dart about, changing direction with the speed of a pinball, thrusting tentacles sometimes missing him by mere inches. It was a startling and impressive sight and would have continued to be so had the man not misjudged a turn and collided with a screaming woman running in the opposite direction.
All parties—including the buxom wife—spun in the air before crashing to the floor. But the old man was back on his feet in an instant. And in another, his wife was back in his arms. Cal would never have guessed it, but the elderly gent seemed to have adapted to the Xcel better than any he’d seen.
The woman who’d been knocked down was on her back, looking stunned. Barely missing a step, Toker hauled her to her feet and swiftly set her on her way. Jumper leaped forward, shooting a tentacle that was reaching for Toker’s head, the perfectly aimed blast ripping the appendage in two.
They ran on, cutting a path through the chaos as best they could. Jacobs and Peterson were running side by side, so close they seemed joined at the hip. All considering, their speed was impressive. So much so that if they were putting half as much energy into the m
eek jabbing of their blades, Cal was confident they might actually hit their attackers. Fortunately, Stevenson remained close by and had probably saved their unwitting hides countless times already.
Cal did his best to stick close to Eddy. The girl was running fast and dodging threats as well as the best of them, but Cal knew her enough to see that she wasn’t faring well. The hefty meat cleaver she carried had barely moved from her side—a far call from the fierce strikes he would have expected. Cal tried not to let the sight distract him. If they stood any chance of surviving, he had to stay focused.
After minutes that seemed to have morphed into hours, they finally reached the Northern Dock. The gates were fully open, allowing the panicked hordes to pour inside. Cal was glad to see armed guards in staggered formation on each side of the threshold, successfully slaying any beasts that came near. Some of them were shouting words of encouragement to those running past, urging them to run faster and get to their ships or even arm themselves if they had the opportunity.
Despite the dock being a very large space, it was already brimming with people, and more were trying to flood in by the second. Cal could see no signs of Kratanu but knew it wouldn’t be wise to assume. Even so, he pressed his knife against his belt, keeping it there long enough for the smart clips to take hold and secure it. Wielding a blade in such a tight-packed crowd could never end well.
“I’m heading to the guards’ station.”
Cal turned to see Stevenson’s earnest face. Jacobs and Peterson were huddled next to him, eyes wide and intense.
“I’ll try and get the three of us re-armed.”
Cal nodded. “Best of luck.”
“And to you. Maybe we’ll speak again once we have this damn mess under control.”
“I hope so,” Cal replied before turning back toward the jostling crowds. The rest of the gang had already bullied their way deep into the throng. He could see Melinda’s distinctive, blond locks a way over to his right, but he was damned if he could spot the others. Not that it mattered; they all knew where they were heading.
Unwilling to risk hurting anyone with his boosted strength, Cal allowed himself to be herded along, moving with the flow. As long as he was heading in the direction of the Star Splinter, all was well. It proved a good strategy, and before long, he caught sight of the Star Splinter’s hull gleaming majestically over the mass of heads.
As he neared, he saw that the crowds extended all the way along the Star Splinter’s jetty. Some were striking the hull of the ship, perhaps in some desperate attempt to gain entry and commandeer it. He completely understood their attempts but knew for a fact that not even multiple rounds of a jago cannon could punch through the Star Splinter’s exterior hatches. He began nudging his way through the crowd, trying his best not to hurt anyone and hardening himself to the frantic faces around him. These were the unfortunate souls with no ship of their own, or perhaps in their panic, they’d ended up at entirely the wrong dock. Either way, it was clear that they were terrified of being left behind.
About halfway along the jetty, Cal became aware of a commotion to his left. Eddy was forcing a path through the crowds but was adopting a far less gentle approach—a fact made clear by the bodies falling heavily in her wake. Feeling only a little bit sorry for the fate of those too stubborn or slow to get out of her way, Cal changed direction and made full use of the ever-widening path she was creating.
At least she’s tucked the meat cleaver away, Cal mused as he dodged a yelping man whom Eddy had practically tossed over her head. Not wanting to disrupt her flow, he remained silent and followed her all the way to the Star Splinter’s hull. Without missing a beat, she pressed her palm against the smooth, silver surface and activated a line of smart-rungs that emerged in a neat, vertical line leading toward one of the top hatches.
“Good job cutting a path, Eddy,” he called up to her as she began climbing up the rungs.
She turned and looked down sharply. There was still panic in her expression, but much of it had now subsided to that wild, dangerous look that Cal was far more used to.
On seeing him, her expression softened. “Hey, Cal. The buggers wouldn’t get out of my way,” she explained, looking out over the jetty to the little slice of mayhem she’d caused. She stared at it for a moment as if surprised, or maybe even a little guilty, that she’d been the cause. “They’ll thank me when I start blasting those bloody squid things with my Gibson gun.”
Cal grinned and grabbed the first rung. “I’m sure they will,” he replied, gladdened and relieved to hear the confidence returning to her voice. It wasn’t until he’d climbed a number of the rungs before he came to his senses. “Wait…perhaps not the Gibson gun, Eddy. How’s about something a little more controlled. A five-click pulse rifle maybe?” but the girl continued her climb, not hearing him—or at least pretending not to.
Eddy had been on the hunt for a Gibson gun ever since wielding one on C9 where she’d used the huge, multibarreled weapon to slay one of the giant Insidion crabs. It was an achievement fit for the history books, but Cal hadn’t been the only one to grow nervous when she’d finally gotten her hands on a new one. When boosted with Xcel, she wielded the weapon well—of that there was no denying—but she seemed unable to grasp the fact that it wasn’t suitable for every situation.
Once they reached the top hatch, Eddy started disengaging the ship’s security settings as Cal swept his eyes over the crowds below. He still couldn’t spot the rest of the gang, but considering the sheer number of people jostling about, it wasn’t surprising.
“I’m sorry, Cal.”
Cal looked down to see that Eddy had succeeded in opening the hatch but was looking up at him with tears forming in her eyes.
“Sorry about what?”
“About earlier. How I…well, that weird…turn I had.” She stood up, but her eyes didn’t leave his for a second. “I couldn’t control it. Felt like something was attacking me from the inside…couldn’t get rid of it.”
A couple of tears tumbled down her cheeks, making Cal want to scoop her up in a hug. Despite her vulnerable state, however, he suspected that hugging wasn’t what she wanted right now.
“You forgive me?” she asked.
“Jesus, Eddy, you’ve no reason to be sorry. After the Insidions…after what you went through on that damn planet… I’m the last person you should be asking forgiveness from. I’m the one who led us all into that damn mess.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” she said as if she’d not even heard his response. “I’ll get tough again.” She wiped roughly at her eyes and stared down toward the crowds.
“Trust me, Eddy, you—”
Cal’s words caught in his throat as Eddy suddenly hit the deck in front of him. Her feet had gone out from under her as if she’d slipped on ice, and her head struck the Star Splinter’s hull with a sickening thud.
Before Cal could even register what was happening, Eddy was yanked away from him, sliding over the ship’s curved roof and disappearing over its edge in the blink of an eye.
Chapter 11 Dive
His mind reacting purely on instinct, Cal hit the quick release tab on his boots and kicked them off, simultaneously ripping off his jacket. He hadn’t seen Eddy’s abductor, but it didn’t take a genius to work it out. The Kratanu had managed to climb up behind them, somehow conquering the Star Splinter’s smooth starboard hull. Knowing it would have her in the water by now, he launched himself headfirst along the smooth metal and within moments was dropping off the ship’s edge and falling silently. It was some distance, but with the Xcel still potent in his veins, he sliced cleanly into the water.
Even without goggles, the water was clear, and the dock’s lights were powerful enough to offer decent visibility. Cal swam a few meters down before he stopped and searched. The waters were deep, allowing for larger ships to maneuver without the risk of clashing with rock or coral. He saw Eddy almost immediately, immersed in the deep blue directly below him. The Kratanu had her wrapped up in it
s grip and was slowly descending, all haste abandoned now that its prey was secure.
Cal pulled and kicked, his boosted muscles thrusting him through the water like he was born to it. Assuming she wasn’t already unconscious, Eddy would soon be running out of air. He’d have to tackle the beast hard and fast and hope to God it was enough. The kitchen knife was still attached to his belt, but it didn’t fill him with confidence. He briefly considered whether he’d been hasty in diving off the ship without retrieving a suitable weapon, but that would have taken precious minutes that he doubted Eddy had. Digging his recharged gum breather from his pocket, he pushed the little device into place and continued his descent with a fresh lungful of air.
Almost lazily, the Kratanu eventually settled on a rocky outcropping. Cal could see that Eddy was still conscious and, despite being tightly wrapped in tentacles, had enough strength to be all motion, struggling and wriggling against the creature’s grip. Her mouth was clamped shut, locked in a silent, internal scream, but her eyes were wide open and now focused intently on Cal’s approach.
Detaching his knife, Cal put on a burst of speed. The Kratanu seemed unaware of him and remained that way right up until he’d plunged the knife deep into its body. The point of the weapon fell short of the small, white clusters in the beast’s center, but the blow definitely caused damage.
As if hit by an intense electrical surge, the Kratanu coiled up, sharply drawing its long limbs into its body in a spasm-like contraction. Then, it lashed out with wild violence. With a chunk of the beast’s soft flesh tight in his grip, Cal evaded the thrashing, and with a jerk and twist, he managed to drive the knife deeper still. The extra effort paid off, and the Kratanu partially relinquished its hold on Eddy.
The creature thrashed out again, this time with enough force to knock Cal away, sending him tumbling back through the water. His senses became muddled, but he quickly righted himself. The knife had been knocked from his grip, but with no time to search for it, he fought his way back to Eddy. She’d managed to free her left arm during the commotion and was using it to pull desperately at the remaining coils of flesh that still held her. But she was also starting to convulse, her efforts slowing as her head jerked forward, mouth open in a desperate search for air. Cal had seen these hypoxic convulsions before and had even suffered them himself once.