Mega 6: No Man’s Island

by Jake Bible

  “I can count,” Ballantine said. Wire frowned. “The seconds. I know my Darby. Now is about the time she gets tired of being kept in a cage and decides to come look for me.”

  “Maybe she’s looking for her lover,” Wire said. “Maybe Max is her goal.”

  “Oh, Max is most certainly her goal,” Ballantine said. “But she’ll need me to free him. I’ll be her first stop.”

  “Then perhaps we take care of her second stop,” Wire said.

  She moved around Ballantine and pulled a tablet from the back of the chair. With the press of her thumb on the tablet’s screen, the chair hummed to life and began to roll forward.

  “How about you visit your friends?” Wire said. “And say goodbye.”

  “Well, not liking the sound of that,” Ballantine said as the chair moved towards the door.

  ***

  “It’s getting closer,” Nick said as he shook his head, his eyes barely believing the rapidly moving blip on the screen that was encroaching on them fast. “Goddamn this thing can move.”

  “So can we,” Aubrey replied. “Are the men and women ready?”

  “They are,” Nick said. “But we should reconsider this plan, Captain. The shark adds a wrinkle into our strategy. Personally, I think we need to focus on taking it out before we focus on an assault on the island.”

  “We have someone focusing on taking it out,” Aubrey said. “He assured me he could do the job.”

  “Who? Carlos?” Nick laughed. “He’d say anything to save his skin.”

  “We have people in the Toyshop watching him,” Aubrey said. “They’ll make sure he stays on task and hunts that shark down. With that plasma cannon and the extra torpedoes we gave him, he’ll be more than capable of turning that monster into chum.”

  “It’s survived worse,” Nick said. “I think we’re underestimating the beast.”

  “No, we’re not,” Aubrey said. “It’s a beast. An animal. We’re going to have Carlos put it down like one. While he does that, we take the island, and free Ballantine so we can get our lives back, Nick. You want your life back, right?”

  “Yeah, I want my life back,” Nick said. “But I have to be alive to do that. I’m not liking our odds.”

  “We’ve arrived,” Gene said from his seat. “If we stop here, we can stay off the island’s scanners and still be close enough to swim to the mine filled harbor.”

  “Great,” Nick said. “I’ll head to the hold and alert everyone.”

  “Do that,” Aubrey said. “And Nick?”

  “Yes?”

  “No more doubts, alright? This plan has been in place for a long time and I expect all of us to see it through to completion. Understood?”

  “Understood,” Nick said. He held up a hand as Aubrey began to speak. “I’ll make sure Delana understands as well. We’re all on board with this, Captain.”

  “Good,” Aubrey said.

  Nick gave her a quick nod and left the bridge.

  He made his way down a set of stairs then a long passageway, on his way to the hold.

  “You will die,” a quiet voice said from the open hatch to an unoccupied cabin. “We all die.”

  Nick paused and regarded the hatch.

  “How about you come out of there, Moshi?” Nick called.

  No response.

  “I’m not going to grab you or turn you in to Aubrey,” Nick said. “I think she may have gotten a little heavy handed with your group.”

  There was a shuffle of feet, but Moshi did not appear.

  “Moshi, I promise I will listen,” Nick said. “Something doesn’t sit right with this whole mega shark issue. I think you can help me work it out in my brain.”

  “Nothing to work out,” Moshi said as she slowly revealed herself. “Shark will destroy this ship.”

  “Maybe, but we have some serious firepower,” Nick said. “Not to mention Carlos is going to use the Toyshop to stop it. He says he can blow a hole in the thing with that plasma cannon.”

  “Carlos is an idiot,” Moshi said. “He’ll crash the Toyshop at the bottom of ocean. Because idiot.”

  “Yeah, I don’t have much confidence in him, either,” Nick said. “What’s your suggestion?”

  “Abandon ship,” Moshi said. “Now.”

  “That’s a bit extreme,” Nick said. “With all the operators we have down—”

  Moshi had edged closer and Nick never saw the small metal rod she gripped in her hand until it was too late. The rod telescoped out two feet, the thin end stabbing him in the neck with enough voltage to light a small village. Nick dropped hard and Moshi quickly searched him, coming away with a set of keys.

  “Sorry,” she said. “But I have to save friends.” She sighed. “And Carlos.”

  Chapter Fifteen: Chaos Is Not A Theory

  Team Grendel and what was left of the crew of the B3 stood in a line, all facing Wire and her guest. The area they stood in was the size of a large parking lot, covered in gravel, and humid as Hell. No one made eye contact with Wire as she grinned smugly at each person until she’d satisfied some mental checklist that only she knew about.

  “Ballantine? Care to pick the first one?” Wire asked as she walked away from her guest, a Desert Eagle in her hand. “Perhaps the former captain of your doomed ship? I hear he is not a Ballantine fan. Perhaps this is an itch I can scratch for you.”

  “Despite our differences, I rather like Captain Lake,” Ballantine said. “Move along.”

  “Move along? I love how you believe you have free will in this choice,” Wire said. “It is so very cute and so very Ballantine. In control until the very end.”

  Wire moved down the line until she stood in front of a shivering man. The man could barely look Wire in the eye.

  “Are you sick?” Wire asked him.

  “No, ma’am,” the man replied.

  “Who is this, Ballantine?” Wire asked.

  “One of the deckhands,” Ballantine said. “His name is Arthur. Right? That is your name?”

  “Yes, Mr. Ballantine,” Arthur replied.

  Wire put the Desert Eagle to Arthur’s forehead.

  “Are you a loyal deckhand, Arthur?” Wire asked. “Would you die for Ballantine so he can achieve his goals? Goals, I might add, that only he knows since he is not exactly the sharing type.”

  “Leave him alone,” Darren mumbled as he stood on shaky legs between Shane and Thorne. He looked like he’d fall over at any second and either pass out or die. “Whatever point you are trying to make to Ballantine, he’s not getting.”

  “I like to think I get everything,” Ballantine said. “But we can never truly be good judges of our own character, can we?”

  “I’m not making a point,” Wire said and pulled the trigger. The back of Arthur’s head turned to mist after the heavy caliber bullet tore through his skull. Everyone jumped, but no one yelled or tried to run. “I’m giving Ballantine a demonstration of what will happen to all of you unless he tells me where the item is.”

  “You do realize I already told you, right? You had it,” Ballantine said, seeming nonplussed by the murder of the deckhand. “The fact you refuse to face that is not my fault. It is not any of these people’s faults either. I do think you should take a few steps back from this and gain a little perspective, Wire.”

  “That so?” Wire asked. She moved to the left and aimed at another deckhand. “This man’s name?”

  “Roger? No, no, Rodney,” Ballantine said.

  “Richard,” the deckhand said before the back of his head was turned to mist as well.

  “You fucking crazy bitch,” Max said quietly. “You like to kill. That’s all this is.”

  “I believe you have hit the nail on the less than stable head there, Max,” Ballantine said.

  “Wire’s crazy,” Wire said as she moved down the line to Max. “Wire is unstable. Wire is a homicidal maniac. Wire loves to kill, kill, kill.”

  “You forgot Wire has serious daddy issues,” Max said. “Like fucking serious, la
dy. I don’t think they’ve created help that can fix that rotten walnut rattling around in your skull.”

  “Oh, Mr. Reynolds, what a shame,” Wire said. “I liked you. What you lack in intelligence you more than make up for in bravado. The world will be a lesser place with you no longer in it. Goodbye.”

  Wire spun about, the Desert Eagle flying from her grip and skidding across the gravel. Then the shot was heard and the dozens of guards that had been standing back and watching sprang into action.

  Wire grabbed her right shoulder and tried to crane her neck so she could see the damage. No blood because she didn’t have blood in that part of her. A pungent cloud of smoke that smelled of burning plastic and hot metal seeped out from beneath her hand.

  “Find her!” Wire shouted then pointed at the line of captives. “And put them in the hole! Throw them in without a ladder! Whoever survives should feel lucky!”

  Guards rushed at Team Grendel and the remainder of the B3’s crew. Five of the guards dropped in quick succession, their heads torn to nothing, just before five shots were heard.

  “Is that Lucy?” Shane asked as he threw a punch at a guard and knocked the woman to her knees.

  He disarmed her, flipping her M4 around so he could put the muzzle between the woman’s eyes. She started to protest, but Shane never gave her the chance. Before her body hit the ground, Shane was already shifting targets and firing.

  “Lucy’s good, but not night shooting from what, four or five hundred meters, good,” Max said, having disarmed his own guard. “Duck.”

  Shane ducked and Max swung his M4 towards an oncoming group of guards that were only then realizing they should probably open fire. Too late. Max ripped them apart, ejected the magazine, and caught a fresh one that came flying at him. He slapped it home, racked the slide, and opened fire on a second group of guards.

  “Thanks, Uncle Vinny,” Shane said as he stood up and caught a magazine that was being thrown his way.

  Shane caught another and tucked that into his pants pocket as Thorne came jogging up to him, with Darren and Lake close behind. The last of the deckhands either scattered and ran or fell as they were hit with bullets.

  “Tree line,” Thorne said and started moving towards the edge of the wide-open space. “We have to hide.”

  “You have to die,” Wire said as she shoved two of her guards out of the way and took aim at Thorne with her newly retrieved Desert Eagle.

  Darren tackled Thorne around the waist as the woman fired. The bullet flew harmlessly over the two men. Almost harmlessly. A guard several meters away cried out and fell as most of his spine was obliterated.

  Max put two slugs in Wire’s chest, knocking her off her feet and onto the ground. The Desert Eagle went for a second skid ride across the gravel, coming to rest at Lake’s feet.

  “Nice,” Lake said as he picked up the pistol.

  “The trees,” Thorne gasped as he got to his feet and put his hands on his knees to catch his breath. He extended a hand and helped Darren up. “Thanks.”

  “Dude, you’re bleeding,” Shane said as he put three guards down then nodded at Darren’s neck. “You caught a little of that bullet.”

  Darren pressed a hand to the wound then checked it. It was coated in blood, but not so much that he looked worried.

  “We patch it when we stop,” Darren said. “Right now, we do as Vincent said and get to the trees.”

  Five guards fell as they charged the group, their heads popping one after the other just before the gunshots rang out.

  “That’s got to be my Darbs,” Max said as he helped a limping deckhand across the gravel.

  “Then let’s find her,” Thorne said as he began jogging again, headed straight for the fence line at the edge of the graveled area.

  Everyone fell in line behind him, all still firing at anything that moved. With Thorne in the lead, Darren, Lake, Max, Shane, and a couple of deckhands followed closely and headed for the trees. Gravel exploded about two feet in front of Thorne and he skidded to a stop.

  “Wrong way,” Thorne said and turned around to face the others.

  “How do you know?” Shane asked. “You said to head to the trees.”

  Before Thorne could answer, Shane and Max both dropped to their knees and emptied their M4s into a Humvee full of guards that came screaming around the main building, heading straight for them. The guard on top of the Humvee manning the .50 caliber took most of the rounds as both the Reynolds made sure that machine gun couldn’t be put to use.

  The Humvee came to a lurching stop as the driver lost his chest and slumped over the wheel. One of the guards that hadn’t been torn apart tried to escape out of a rear door, but Thorne put two in his back and he fell to the ground, a moaning, bloody mess.

  “That,” Thorne said and hurried to the vehicle.

  “I’m driving!” Shane and Max yelled at the same time.

  “I’m driving,” Lake said as he pushed past them and yanked the dead driver from the seat. “You two shoot.”

  The Reynolds did just that as they provided cover fire so everyone could pile inside the Humvee. That left zero seats for the Reynolds, but neither complained. Max scrambled up into the .50 cal turret while Shane hopped onto the driver’s side running board and slapped the door frame right by Lake’s head.

  “Hit the road, oh captain, my captain!” Shane yelled.

  Lake hit the gas, spun the Humvee around, and headed straight for the one and only road. They were gone in a cloud of dust, putting the few guards still living that gave chase in their rearview mirror. Those guards gave up firing and slowed until they stood there helpless in the gravel, the Humvee lost in the night.

  Then they slowly turned and regarded the one person that had been left behind.

  “I have to assume from the lack of gunfire that this fun little battle is over,” Ballantine said from his chair, unable to turn his head to see the approaching guards. “Did we win? I certainly hope so or those footsteps getting closer are going to be a problem. Hello? Friends or foe, an answer would be appreciated.”

  The sound of bullets hitting flesh, then bodies hitting gravel, the gun shots ringing out, was all the response Ballantine got. He waited patiently for several minutes in eerie silence before the silence was broken by the sound of a single set of boots crossing the graveled area to him.

  “Guess who.”

  “Oh, I hate guessing games,” Ballantine said. “But I’m willing to wager that perhaps a Darby has arrived on the scene.”

  “Where’s Wire?” Darby asked as she circled around and faced Ballantine. “I lost sight of her.”

  “I never really had sight of her,” Ballantine said, indicating his current predicament. “Not exactly full range of motion for the old peepers here.”

  “Why do you talk like that?” Darby muttered in a tone that made it clear the question was rhetorical.

  She moved to free Ballantine, but he said, “Oh, let’s not. I’m rigged to blow, Darby. Probably a biometric lock on here that is programmed to only allow Wire to set me free. You’re gonna have to wheel me around until we figure out how to get me out of this contraption.”

  “Do I look like your nurse, Ballantine?” Darby asked. “If you say yes, I’ll leave you here.”

  “Considering the immense amount of blood and gore you are covered in, from head to toe, I’d be crazy to call you a nurse,” Ballantine said. “A butcher, yes. Nurse, no.”

  “I had some fighting to do to get here,” Darby said. She glanced at the single road. “They left before I could warn them.”

  “Warn them about what exactly?”

  “The dead people. They’re out.”

  “Oh? And how did they get out?”

  “I drove a truck through the fence.”

  “Yes, that will do it. Trucks tend to win in fights against fences.”

  “They do,” Darby said.

  Someone stirred and Darby put a bullet in the back of the man’s head from twenty meters away.


  “What now?” Darby asked.

  “You don’t have a plan?” Ballantine replied, smirking.

  “Fuck off and answer my question,” Darby snapped.

  “We get me to the command center so I can take control of this hellish island,” Ballantine said. “Then we contact the Fallback and get this show on the road.”

  “The Fallback?” Darby asked.

  “I’ll explain on the way,” Ballantine said. “Third door from the right is the hallway that should lead directly to the command center. We are sure to encounter a lot of resistance. Are you up for more fighting?”

  “I’m breathing, so yeah,” Darby said and grabbed the chair. She started pushing and sighed. “You will owe me for this, Ballantine.”

  “Oh, Darby, I owe you for so much more than this,” Ballantine said. “And I do plan on repaying you in full. You deserve it.”

  ***

  Kinsey stared in bewilderment as Moshi unlocked the door and opened the brig.

  “Big shark,” Moshi said. “Idiots won’t listen.”

  “Tell me about it,” Kinsey said. “Where are the others?”

  “We get them and leave,” Moshi said.

  “Guns?” Lucy asked as the three women hurried away from the brig hatch and towards the closest set of stairs. “We’re going to need guns.”

  “Pointless,” Moshi said. “Too many of them to fight. And not enemies.”

  Kinsey grabbed Moshi by the shoulder. “They locked us up.”

  “They work for Ballantine,” Moshi said as if that was all the explanation needed.

  “She has a point,” Lucy said. “The Cult of Ballantine doesn’t leave wiggle room for going off script.”

  “We go off script all the time,” Kinsey said. “Which is why we’re alive.”

  “And why they die,” Moshi said. “By shark, not by us.”

  “Fine,” Kinsey grumbled. “But we need to get all of our people. Where’s the infirmary? Gunnar should be in there.”

  “Yes,” Moshi said and nodded. “This way.”

  They wound their way through the ship, only once having to take someone out. Kinsey had no idea if the person was an operator or simply part of the ship’s crew, but she didn’t ask. A hard punch to the back of the head and the man dropped. Kinsey dragged him into an unlocked cabin and left him to the brutal headache he’d wake up with.