Kronos

by Jeremy Robinson

  She slugged him with every ounce of energy she had and was happy to hear a high-pitched squeal of pain escape his mouth. His body spun from the blow, but he managed to hold on to the UMP and was already bringing it back around. Andrea caught the weapon with both hands and held it at bay.

  In desperation, Trevor pulled the trigger, sending a full clip of ammo into the sky. Even after the bullets were spent, their struggle for the UMP continued, each pulling and kicking the other. Andrea knew Trevor had spare clips and didn’t want to give him a chance to reload the weapon. She pulled hard, but Trevor kept a vise grip on the gun and was pulled toward her so that their faces were only a foot apart, the gun held tight between them.

  “Can’t we solve this in a civilized manner, my dear?” Trevor said, but the gleam in his eyes revealed he had no intention of being civilized.

  Andrea pulled harder. “Stop…calling…me… that!” With a sudden reverse in direction, Andrea pushed instead of pulled and the combined force of her push and Trevor’s pull sent the UMP smashing into Trevor’s face. He sprawled back onto the deck, a trickle of blood running down his forehead.

  With his hand, Trevor felt the wound, which quickly oozed hot liquid. Aghast at the sight of his own blood, Trevor scrambled to his feet and shouted, “That’s going to leave a bloody scar! This is bollocks!”

  Trevor charged as Andrea swung the UMP at him like a club. She connected with his side, but the impact was slight as his body collided with hers. The UMP fell from Andrea’s hands. She and Trevor sprawled to the deck. Moving slowly from having the wind knocked out of her and still feeling the residual head-to-toe ache remaining from the beating Remus had delivered in O’Shea’s quarters, Andrea struggled to get back to her feet.

  But not quick enough.

  She never saw Trevor stand up, but the kick to the side of her head confirmed that he had. The stars that swirled in her vision and the ringing in her ears further told her she wasn’t long for this world. Her body became an unsupportable weight, and though she tried to push herself up, her arms failed to function.

  A second kick, this one to the gut, sent her back down to the deck, clutching her stomach, gasping for breath. She was vaguely aware that Trevor was circling her, and though her body didn’t register the pain anymore, she could feel his foot smashing into her body time after time.

  As the impacts against her body stopped, she heard Trevor speak in his typical boyish voice. Though she couldn’t see him, she imagined he was wearing his lopsided grin; that his billowy white hair, stained with blood, was dancing in the sea breeze. The mental image of the man infuriated her. She wanted nothing more than to jump up and beat the pulp out of him, but her body was broken and unresponsive.

  A sudden jolt of fresh pain, far beyond what she’d experienced so far, ripped through her body. She screamed as the pain throbbed through her nervous system, causing her muscles to twitch uncontrollably. The agony was made all the more painful by the knowledge that she’d failed Atticus. By allowing Trevor to kill her, which he would most likely do at any moment, she failed in her promise to Maria. She had said she’d be there for Atticus. She had said she’d take care of him. And all she’d achieved by regaining his trust, his love, was to give him one more person to mourn for. There was no guarantee that Giona would survive Kronos. Even though O’Shea’s Jonah theory had given them hope, the odds of its being true were too remote. Atticus would be alone again, and she would be to blame.

  Trevor’s voice invaded her senses again. She heard him say something about always having a second pair handy and opened her eyes to see him donning his trademark, thick-rimmed glasses. Her eyes fell beyond Trevor, who stood with his back to the rail. It was fitting, she thought, that the ocean would be the last thing she saw. She’d spent years of her life saving people from the ocean’s deadly grasp. And it would be there to watch her die.

  The blue waters of the Gulf of Maine disappeared from her view as a black apparition rose up behind Trevor—the Grim Reaper himself come to claim her. A sudden tightness and the most intense pain she’d ever felt, convulsed her body. She screamed like an animal, wounded to the core. Death gnawed at her muscles, pulling them apart sinew by sinew.

  Then the pain ceased, and she knew she was dead.

  53

  The Titan

  The glass in Atticus’s arms burned fiercely, but he tried to ignore the pain. If he were to pull out the shards, he’d only reopen the wounds. The coagulated blood around the slashes, along with the cauterization that had taken place when the glass had been heated by Trevor’s taser, had stopped most of the bleeding, and Atticus knew to leave the glass in place until the wounds could be sewn closed. Besides, there were more pressing matters to attend.

  Atticus couldn’t see Andrea or Trevor yet, but he could hear Trevor’s angry voice carried by the wind. As he attempted to pick up the pace, he lost his footing and spilled to the deck. He didn’t think his coordination had been too affected by his injuries, but perhaps he’d lost more blood than he thought. As adrenaline pushed him forward, his body could be shutting down without his even realizing it. Atticus stood and wobbled, nearly falling back down.

  That was when he noticed the odd angle of the deck. The slant looked slight, but grew more pronounced as the deck tipped inexorably to port. The listing Titan was taking on water.

  Kronos had breached the hull.

  Taking the ever-changing tilt of the deck into consideration, Atticus continued forward, though more slowly. His focus on reaching Andrea held his attention so resolutely that he didn’t hear the heavy footfalls or wet ragged breath approaching from the side. A heavy force slammed into Atticus and fell on top of him. Punches rained down next, pummeling his body.

  Atticus looked up to find Remus, clutching his bloody throat with one hand and throwing punches with the other. His dark eyes revealed the mania of a man who knew he was going to die but would quench his thirst for revenge before giving himself over to the devil. Remus’s punches lacked the force they’d previously had, but they still caused Atticus’s beaten body severe pain.

  Bringing his knee up fast, Atticus meant to hammer Remus in the groin, but connected with his backside instead. Unprepared for the impact, Remus leaned forward, which was just enough motion for Atticus to exploit by grasping Remus’s shirt and heaving him to the side.

  Atticus clawed away and used the Titan’s side rail to regain his footing—and not a moment too soon. Remus barreled toward him, arms outstretched, throat gushing blood. The man lacked a quick wit, but he could fight. Atticus had to give him that.

  Quickly realizing that moving left or right would simply put him in the grasp of Remus’s thick arms, Atticus simply curled down into a tight ball. A tilting deck and forward momentum did the rest. Remus might have been able to catch himself on the rail, but his legs connected with Atticus’s body first and propelled him forward. His waist wrapped around the rail and his top-heavy form pulled him away from the deck and overboard.

  To his credit, Remus didn’t flail or scream on the way down. Atticus watched him fall until he hit the ocean. Atticus thought that would be the end of him, but Remus rose from the sea and began slowly treading water, his eyes full of hatred. The man was a juggernaut!

  Though out of the fight, it occurred to Atticus that the unstoppable Remus might still find a way to survive and ultimately escape. He couldn’t let that happen. But as a twenty-eight-foot shadow emerged behind Remus, Atticus realized his fears were unfounded.

  As the shadow closed in, a massive dorsal fin cut up through the water. Noticing Atticus’s eyes were not returning his glare, Remus turned around. And then he did scream. A panic-filled wail shot from Remus’s mouth and slashed throat, but became muffled as Laurel’s massive jaws engulfed his torso. The black eyes vanished behind the shark’s nictitating membrane and the dagger-like teeth snapped down, cutting Remus in half. With a snap of his tail, Laurel disappeared into the ocean, leaving Remus’s lower half to bob in the water, trailing a coil
ed mass of intestines.

  Wasting no time mourning for Remus, Atticus continued his journey toward Andrea. As he rounded the curved deck, using the rail to balance himself, he saw them. Andrea was crumpled up on the deck, a guttural scream escaping her lungs as Trevor stood above her laughing beneath his taser-armed glasses. While the charge was meant to incapacitate, the shock to Andrea’s battered body might finish her.

  Atticus quickened his pace. As he got closer he saw an odd shape rise up behind Trevor. The black form moved slowly, cautiously, until it stood directly behind him. Then a face emerged.

  O’Shea! He had been knocked overboard but must have held on to the rail and climbed back up.

  In a flash, he reached out with both hands and wrapped his arms around Trevor’s neck. Still holding the glasses, Trevor yanked them back with him and pulled the cables from Andrea’s body. She stopped convulsing, but lay completely still.

  When Atticus reached them, Trevor struggled to breathe as much as he fought to get free. The rail between his body and O’Shea’s was all that kept them from sailing off into the ocean.

  Atticus knelt beside Andrea and checked for a pulse. He sighed with relief. She was alive and stirred at his touch. “Atti?”

  “Don’t move,” Atticus said, “You’ll be all right.”

  A confused look came across Andrea’s beaten face.

  “Atti…”

  “You don’t need to say anything.”

  She shook her head and strained to talk again. “Above you.”

  Atticus looked up and found the main gun swiveling above. The crew either didn’t know the Titan was sinking or didn’t care. Could their allegiance to Trevor be so strong that when he said to press the attack no matter what, they’d continue until they were all dead? Were they really that fanatical about him? Or perhaps they simply feared him more than death?

  “You can’t do this,” Trevor hissed through gritted teeth. “You’re a priest.”

  O’Shea tightened his grip, causing Trevor to gag, his face turning beet red.

  “I’ve been meaning to tell you, Trevor,” O’Shea growled into Trevor’s ear, his teeth clenched in a sinister grin, “I’m not a priest.”

  Trevor’s eyes widened with fear.

  “Every sin you’ve committed will be taken to the grave with you, and the full weight of your evil will condemn you to hell.”

  Trevor had never looked more panicked. His face shook, and his body trembled as he attempted to free himself from the avenging angel clinging to his neck.

  As the main gun stopped, Atticus opened his mouth to shout a warning, but a savage boom sent the sound of his voice right back into his throat. Before Atticus fell to the deck and cupped his hands over his injured ears, he saw Trevor and O’Shea launched out away from the Titan by the big gun’s shock wave.

  Though dizzy and disoriented, Atticus stood and moved to the side rail. He listened through the ringing in his ears for some wail of pain from Kronos. Hearing nothing, he hoped it meant that the shot had missed. Of course, his ears might simply be ruined. Looking over the rail, Atticus expected to see the bodies of O’Shea and Trevor being torn apart by Laurel, but neither man had returned to the surface.

  Atticus’s breath suddenly caught in his throat. The Titan shook, hit by another colossal impact. Kronos continued waging his own war. His massive form rose from below and cut across the surface of the ocean, rising and falling with great undulations. Atticus could see several large, bloody wounds on the creature’s body. He realized that he and Kronos had a lot in common. They fought beyond the pain and injury—warriors both— but more importantly, they both fought for Giona’s life…and for each other.

  FREEDOM

  54

  The Titan

  Atticus took Andrea under the arms and dragged her up the steps toward the bridge. He pushed the metal door open, pulled her inside, and laid her on the floor. The click of a gun’s hammer being cocked froze him in place.

  “Don’t move,” said a man with a shaky voice.

  Atticus turned around slowly, raising his hands in the air. The floor was still littered with dead or incapacitated crew members, but the captain had not only gathered himself together, but he’d also managed to find the .357 Magnum. It felt strange, having his own gun pointed toward him, like being betrayed by a close friend. Atticus took a step forward, blocking Andrea with his body.

  “I said don’t move!” the captain shouted. “I’ve seen what you can do. Now stop moving.”

  Atticus could see the captain then. His breathing was still labored, but he would survive the elbow Atticus had delivered to his throat during the earlier brawl. The captain sat behind the gun controls. Atticus could see through the targeting screen that Kronos’s fleeing body filled the view, lined up for an easy shot. The question was which trigger the captain would pull first.

  “What’s your name?” Atticus asked, his voice calm.

  “Just shut up!”

  “Captain, I think you’re a good man who happened to take a job from the wrong billionaire.” Atticus turned so he was fully facing the captain, his hands still raised. “You saw the screens earlier. You know my girl is still alive.”

  “You don’t know that,” the captain said, his voice shaking. “Trevor said that—”

  “Trevor’s dead,” Atticus said plainly.

  The captain flinched but kept the gun aimed. He looked at Atticus through twitching eyes. “You’re sure?”

  Atticus nodded.

  The man lowered the gun, his body deflated. “Thank God.”

  Atticus could see that the man had never truly wanted to harm him or anyone else, that he probably regretted every moment of his life spent aboard the Titan. He didn’t have to ask what his motivations were to know Trevor held something over the man.

  Atticus took the .357 from the captain and holstered it. “I need you to disable the Titan’s weapons.”

  The captain nodded and set to work at the controls.

  “Is there a med kit around?”

  Without taking his eyes off the control panels, the captain pointed to the back wall, where three wall-mounted cabinets stood. “In the middle.”

  “There morphine in it?”

  The captain nodded. “Should be. But with this crew, you never know.”

  Atticus stepped over the bodies of the dead and injured crew and ripped open the middle cabinet. He found the med kit buried beneath a stack of life preservers. He threw the preservers to the waking men. “Put them on and get out,” he said. Then he headed back to Andrea with the med kit and three of the orange life vests.

  He dropped the vests next to the captain. Upon reaching Andrea, he opened the med kit, located the morphine, and prepared the needle. As soon as it was ready, he plunged it into Andrea’s leg and emptied the syringe.

  The captain finished working the controls and picked up the intercom microphone. His voice boomed throughout the ship when he spoke. “This is the captain,” he said. “All hands abandon ship. I repeat, abandon ship.” Then, as though knowing his orders were not enough to make the men disobey Trevor’s will, he added. “Trevor Manfred is dead. Abandon ship now.”

  He dropped the CB and took hold of the main cannon’s controls. Atticus watched as the cannon moved from a view of the ocean to that of the front deck. What was the captain planning to do? As the view shifted down, Atticus realized what the captain had planned. The front deck came into view.

  The captain looked at Atticus. “The men on this ship are criminals and will probably fight for control of the Titan. The torpedo room is down there.” The captain nodded to the screen displaying the cannon’s suicidal aim.

  Atticus nodded, and the captain wasted no time in pulling the trigger. The round from the cannon punched a hole in the deck, flew through every deck of the Titan, and out through the hull, but not before hitting a torpedo, which exploded. The front end of the Titan billowed out, then fell back down. The list became dramatic as the sea flooded into the newly formed
breach.

  “That did it,” Atticus said as he turned back to Andrea. She sat up, the effects of the morphine easing her pain.

  “What’s happening?” Andrea asked.

  Atticus helped her to her feet. “We’d like to thank you for choosing Titan Cruises,” Atticus said with the mock voice of a stewardess, though strained by his injuries. “We hope you enjoyed your stay, but it’s time to get the hell off this ship. She’s going down.”

  Andrea flinched as the captain approached; carrying life vests and what looked like a thick yellow parcel.

  “It’s okay,” Atticus said. “He’s with us.”

  The captain slipped on a life vest and helped Andrea and Atticus put on theirs. “I deployed our emergency transponder and issued an SOS,” the captain said. “Help is on the way.”

  A few of the crew jumped overboard, clinging to life vests or other floatation devices. Together, Atticus and the captain helped Andrea down the stairs from the bridge to the main deck. They half walked, half slid to the port rail as the Titan continued to list. When they stopped at the rail, Atticus took Andrea by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “Are you with me?”

  She blinked away her grogginess and nodded. “I can make it,” she said. “I have a promise to keep.”

  Atticus kissed her gently. “When you hit the water, swim for the surface, but let the life vest do most of the work.”

  She smiled. “I’m in the Coast Guard you know. I jump into the water for a living.”

  Atticus couldn’t help but return her smile. “Right.”

  As a group, all three jumped over the side rail and plunged into the cold Atlantic below, where frigid water and a dark shadow awaited.

  55

  Gulf of Maine