Why had he not seen this coming?
The whole time he’d been in the black, he’d foreseen what was to happen here. He’d understood it not as a possibility, but a certainty. He was supposed to kill the humans.
And now there’s this shit.
The awful little human inside him. Ripping him apart. Mocking him.
This is not how it’s supposed to happen.
His mother is going to be angry.
Litost calls out to her.
* * *
Litost goes stark raving mad.
* * *
The people of Brooklyn have no idea what they’re witnessing.
A few miles north of the Verrazano Bridge, in Bayonne, New Jersey, a towering black hundred-foot figure stumbles. Jumps. Spasms. It crashes into the Hudson River. Sprays up jets of white foam in its frenzy.
At first glance, it seems like some enormous piece of construction equipment has collapsed. That, in and of itself, is unusual, but New Yorkers have seen it before.
Watchers along the riverfront snap blurry shots with their phones. Remark on how odd it is. Keep walking.
Farther south, more eyes see the big tentacular thing as it bursts up from the water and latches onto the underside of the Verrazano. It hangs there. Makes a terrible animal noise. The screams of a whale, distorted. A howl of pain. It shakes the metal of the bridge. Splashes back down under the waves.
More disbelief. More blurry phone photos. Some video now.
The shape comes ashore. Emerges from underneath the Verrazano. Pounds its massive eight legs. Whips its tail back and forth. Knocks around cars and trees in the park. Knocks around people who happen to be in the way.
Its mammalian skull glares. Its eyes roll and stare and offer nothing but hate.
The thing barks. Howls. Roars.
The mass of feelers along its body snap out. They sound like whips in the air. Snap again. Split a man in half. Then a woman. Both die running from the monstrosity.
It trips on its own legs. Destroys a Chinese food joint. Dust and debris skitters around Brooklynites as they scurry for cover.
People scream. Run. Cover their ears and pinched their eyes shut as though the worst headache they’ve ever experienced is bludgeoning their brains.
The lobster spider squid thing stops. A confused look plays across its face as troops from the Fort Hamilton Army Base surround it and establish lines of fire. It sneezes. Coughs. Uses one of its chitinous legs to scratch its face and then its head. It looks up to the sky. Then its eyes spin back in its head.
It teeters. Totters. Wobbles to and fro.
It crashes face-first into the asphalt on Fourth Avenue. Shatters and sheers up sheets of road. Its legs shake once. It lies still.
NYPD officers and soldiers make their way around the massive body.
One of the thing’s tendrils curls in a death rattle. A trooper unloads a full magazine from his M4A1 carbine into it. Just to be sure. The enormous body responds by jetting out gouts of gore that covered the street in a wash of blood.
At the center of its thorax, the cops and soldiers hear a sound.
Faint buzzing.
They take a few steps back. Formed a defensive ring around the spot.
They watch in horror. They expect some new attack.
A whirring metal blade juts out from the monster’s flesh. It cuts up and around in a circle. More blood streams onto the street and splashes into pools.
There’s a grunt. A kick against something heavy but squishy.
A circular door of skin flops down from the beast’s side.
Behind it stands a kid. A goddamn teenager holding a chainsaw. A goddamn teenager with a six-gun strapped to his thigh. A goddamn teenager who lights a cigarette as he steps out of the carcass of the creature.
Like it’s no big fuckin deal.
Jack tells the pros, “That was fun.” Pulls on his cigarette. Drops the chainsaw. “Someone’s gonna have to take me back to Bayonne. I left my car there.” He lifts his hand to his head. “Shit, hang on.” He disappears back inside the corpse. Returns a minute later, adjusting a cowboy hat on his head. “Almost left my Stetson in that awful bastard.”
Chapter 38: Hi
Caleb and Catarina tie their ropes.
When they hear Litost struggle and fall, they jump. Slide down into the den of the Hroza with bright red chemical sticks dangling from their belt loops.
The two land on a plateau. The other Hroza had dug out the entire burrow.
The little humans look like they’re standing on a stage.
Six enormous sets of eyes react in shock. Six titanic beings pull away in surprise.
Caleb says, “Hi!” The Engine starts up again. “We know you’ve been using us.”
Catarina watches the things. She’s got her machete out. Got her own battle sense back. “We’re here to fuck you back.”
Three glides forward out of the shadows. “We do not know what you mean.”
Caleb says, “Oh, shut it. Your whole plan was to have the Corrupted come down on our heads to buy you jerks time to get behind them and attack. You’ve known all along that they wanted us dead because of some weird complex they have.”
“They are also dangerous and insane.”
“Goes without saying. Too much time in the black. I get that. What I don’t get is why you weren’t straight with us from the beginning. Because now my mother is dead. My father is dead. And that’s on you.”
Three is silent for a moment. The other Hroza hold their voices.
Catarina glares at them and it dawns on her that they all seem very, very impatient. Her only thought is, So sorry to waste your time.
“You realize,” Three says, “that the Corrupted are our common enemy. They will lay waste to the planet. No matter how you feel, I have always told you that we did what was necessary to survive. Using you as a distraction is necessary.”
“My parents are dead,” Caleb says. “Our lives are fucked.”
“Your lives would have been fucked anyway. Do you not see that? I did not create you or make you who you are. I have only awoken the gifts in your genes. I forced you to take action.
“You and we are kin. Our history is in you. It is written in your DNA. What my brothers and I want is to live on. I told you that even our meager survival came at great cost to the species. Survival requires sacrifice. But we can live through you.
“I did not act to condemn you. I acted to save you. And to keep the knowledge alive.”
Caleb considers this.
Catarina says, “You still used us. Killed our friends. Killed our family. And it turns out we did serve as a good distraction.” She senses the Corrupted above. Grabs Caleb. Holds him close to protect him. Points the machete like an accusing finger at the Hroza around them. “Because now you’re all fucked.”
Chapter 39: Come Home to Roost
Jack eyes the cops and the soldiers around him. He exhales smoke.
Itchy and eager, all of them. Young, too. He steps forward.
They raise their guns. Tell him not to move.
Jack says, “I wasn’t controlling the damn thing. I saved your asses.”
They keep their guns on him.
“Guys,” Jack says, “you have any idea what that took? Any idea how bad it smelled?” He looks like a lunatic. Casually smoking. Caked in blood. This Cowboy with his hat and his gun on his thigh.
Jack thinks, After everything, if I get shot and die here, I am determined to come back as a ghost and haunt the shit outta these assholes.
Anxious. Nervous. One of the soldiers clicks the safety off on his M4.
Jack shakes his head at him. “That’s not a thing you wanna be doing.” He thinks about how he snapped at Elie in the kitchen for thumbing the hammers on the shotgun. “Really, now, I mean it. Same side here. See this big monster I crawled out of? More coming. Bigger maybe. And angry. On account of I killed their kid. They’re the bad guys. Not me.” He takes a step.
The guns st
ay on him. Jack sighs. Looks up. He sees specks of black. Hurtling toward this spot. The Corrupted coming home to lay waste and take over.
“Guys.” He gestures. “Bad shit at straight up o’clock.”
None of them follow his hands. They kept their weapons trained.
“All right,” Jack says. He cracks his neck. Counts six men around him. That’s fine. “Won’t kill you. But I’m gonna take out your hands. Because I need to leave. Are we clear? Fair warning.”
The Colt isn’t in his hand. Then it is. Materializes there. He fans the hammer on his machine. Six cracks of thunder rang out. Six men drop their guns. Wince and whine about their shattered wrists.
Jack jogs toward the army base and Elie. He chuckles over his shoulder. “I warned you.”
The black dots grow bigger in the sky.
* * *
Elie’s glad when he hears the base sirens blare because he knows the army will stop talking to him.
The troops bolt away.
He finds himself alone in the visitor’s center. Hands still zip-tied behind his back.
But there’s an easy fix to that.
He knocks over a glass Snapple bottle. It shatters. He squats and picks up a large sharp piece. Cuts himself free. Then he claps his hands in front of him. Well, what now?
He presses his face against the windows. Watches troops scurry. Thinks, Big momma and her boys are coming fast. He sees five black dots in the sky.
Jack appears in the doorway. “Elie.”
Elie jumps. “How did you...? I don’t... What?”
“I am sneaky and clever. So calm down. I need two things from you.”
“Okay.”
“Shotgun plus ammo. That’s one. Second is: I need you to stay here.”
“In this flimsy building?”
“Just out of the way. Bad guys are gonna be here in, like, soon.”
“Catarina’s out there. I need to—”
“She’ll be fine. She’s better off not worrying about you.”
“Why do I need to stay away?”
“Who else is gonna tell our story?” Jack nods toward the vending machines. “And gather some snacks. Might be a while.”
* * *
Soldiers nearby ignore them. Rush passed them into the streets. Their faces up. Looking at those black dots that get closer and bigger.
Elie walks with Jack into the courtyard outside the visitor’s area. They stop at a manhole that leads to an isolated sewer. One disconnected from the main for security reasons.
Jack drops to his knees. Curls his fingers through the metal cover’s holes. “Down here.” He lifts the cover up. “Catarina will kill me if I let you die.”
There’s a hint of desperation in Elie’s voice. “Where is she?”
“Below. With those ancient pricks. Doing what she needs to do. Anything even thinks of bringing harm to her, I’ll end it.” Jack tilts the manhole cover. Lays its massive weight against his thigh. “Now you get below. Where you’ll be safe.”
Elie palms the ladder. Lowers himself into the muck and shit of the army base.
Jack replaces the heavy manhole cover. He takes a second to ask, “You’re sure the shotgun and ammo are just down the road?”
“Yes. Why? You’ve got the Colt.”
“Need something for crowd control. Reason you’re down here? So you don’t get infected. Hroza and Corrupted carry something. A parasite. Makes people all—” he put his hands next to his head and wiggles his fingers “—weird.”
“Uh.” Elie cocks an eyebrow. “Wait.”
“It’s okay, we’re immune. Like the gifts. Got those ancient genes. Hang on.”
Jack disappears.
Elie screams questions after him.
All he gets is frustrating silence.
Jack lifts the sewer cover again. Lowers a heavy bag. A pry bar. An M4 carbine. “Anything tries to come down that has more than two legs? You light it up. Aim for the head.”
* * *
Chaos engulfs over Bay Ridge.
Compared to the panic of the people and the soldiers, Jack’s serene. Goddamn Zen.
He struts. Looks as casual as a seventeen-year-old with a high-caliber pistol strapped to his thigh can. He hears screams. Hears soldiers shouting orders. He weaves his way between them like any New Yorker on a crowded street will.
They don’t pay him much mind.
They’re busy staring at the sky.
Jack ambles to Elie’s hidden trench coat. He procures 12-guage shells for the big Nazi-killing shotgun. Then he strides over to the trash can and the old man’s double-barrel death-dealer. He wraps it in Elie’s jacket. Lets it rest on his shoulder.
He sneaks back to the corpse of Litost. Grabs his gore-covered chainsaw. He meanders over to where he knows the Corrupted are going to land. Above Three’s den. Where the evil assholes will go crashing through. Into a pit filled with their own horrible family.
That’s where they’ll all die.
He has no intention of letting them live.
He plops his ass on a nearby bench. Far away enough that he won’t be destroyed when they hit. Close enough that he’ll see what he’s getting himself into.
Bloody glory.
He surveys the scene. Watches the people instead of the coming terror. Enjoys what might be his last smoke. He considers quitting. Ain’t good for him at all.
Then he inhales. Finds the prospect of quitting unpleasant at best.
Dumb as it sounds, and contrary to what every Quit Smoking Now guru says of smoker psychology, he really does love smoking.
He drops the American Spirit. Crushes it under his boot heel. Unwraps the big twelve-gauge and rests it across his lap.
He starts tapping his feet to a mental version of Deep Purple’s “Smoke On The Water.”
Jack watches the sky.
The black shapes take on more distinction. Start looking more and more like the ancient flying squid lobster shits they are. Jack isn’t sure how they manage to avoid being burned up in the atmosphere on entry, but he’s quietly impressed.
Wriggling missiles. Giant bullets. Wings curled back. It gives them a cocooned appearance. Their tentacles and legs flutter behind them as they torpedo through the air.
Titanic monsters, hurtling toward Jack’s home. Jack’s love. Jack’s brother.
Almost graceful. Almost beautiful.
Though Jack doesn’t want to use any words other than “pigfucking shitbricks” to describe them.
He feels the big one stare at him. Momma. The one in the lead.
Static claws at his head. The Red fights it.
Jack taps his feet. “Come on, bitch. Let’s dance.”
He stands. Readies himself.
The Corrupted hit.
Five bomb blasts that blow up dirt and debris in an enormous pale cloud. It envelopes everything. Spreads. The ground gives way. A block-sized hole forms. In that hole are six other kraken and two gifted humans.
It’s an ocean of flailing tentacles. Stomping feet. Fluttering wings. Growls.
A really, really bad fuckin family reunion.
More screams topside. More panic. People stumble and run. They’re covered in dust. He sees people flail to find their way. He can’t help but think of the Twin Towers falling.
He shouts to the other New Yorkers. “It’s okay! These assholes ain’t terrorists! They’re just giant fucking monsters!”
He runs forward.
Jumps.
Right onto the back of one of the winged Corrupted.
Chapter 40: Party Poopers
It’s a tentacular orgy of violence.
The Corrupted plow into the den. Big Momma wraps her coils around Three. They tear at each other. Mad. Hateful. They hiss. Bark. Each finds an opponent. Leaps. Shrieks. Digs their horrible killing tendrils into one another.
Catarina falls. Knocked around by the impact of the outer things. Caleb is in her arms. She shields him. Relies on her Grace to help the brutal landing. They tumble fift
y feet. More.
A Hroza they don’t know catches them. Its tentacle curls around the two humans. Places them on the debris-strewn ground of the den. Safe. Or at least on stable footing.
It says, “I have done something for you. So do not think us all unworthy.” It turns its attention back to the fight.
The family feud rages.
Eleven monsters. All kin. Creatures the size of buildings. Pummeling each other. Goring each other. Rending each other’s flesh with tentacle-lined mouths. Blood rains down in pools so deep that Caleb’s pants are soaked to the knee.
Caleb and Catarina duck in the dark. They cover their heads. Duck between the legs of the massive monsters.
From above falls bits and pieces of a construction site. Tools forgotten in the maelstrom. They dodge as her Grace instructs. Jump away from the falling danger. Machinery and concrete and asphalt lands in hard thumps.
They take a breath. Survey the crashed goods.
Caleb spies a fallen crowbar. Catarina reaches for a fallen circular cutter—one of those big diamond-bladed bastards used to chew through roads. A shorter, fatter version of a chainsaw. She’s ready to kill every living thing nearby.
This fits Caleb’s plan.
Sort of.
He thinks. Strategizes. After running a few times between the crushing legs of titans, he decides that Jack’s dumb plan is the best. With a few adjustments.
He talks to Three and his brothers. Tells them what has to be done. Says they need to get onto the necks of the Corrupted. Cut into them. And the Hroza need to pin Big Momma. Hold her. So that Caleb can get into her head.
Destroy her from the inside out.
Catarina pushes Caleb to the side. Shoves him up against a stone wall. Out of the way of a stomping Hroza leg as it tussles with a Corrupted chewing on its back.
She says, “Dude, they’re still big animals. They’ll crush you out of pure carelessness.”
Caleb nods. “Point taken.”
“Now let’s get onto their necks.”
Black tentacles pluck them up.
Caleb finds himself on the back of Three.
Catarina on the back of the one who saved them before.
The two humans hold loose Hroza skin.
Caleb shouts to Catarina. “Talk to it. Just talk to it.” He pats Three’s head.
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