by Alan Spencer
"Keep rearranging their faces," Bright said, spitting bloody scales off her lips. "Maybe something pretty will turn out."
Together, they said, "Nah."
Bright was using a mini-Uzi to hold off the puffer fish. The puffers were small enough, one shot made them burst into nasty confetti. Each pop was like a leather balloon pricked with a sharp blade.
"That monster keeps launching puffer fish at us," Bright said. "I'm out of ammo."
"No problem," Anchor said, retrieving a M90 rocket launcher. The launcher was jammed into a rotten soft torso of a woman. He imagined a toothpick stuck into a club sandwich. "I got you covered."
Anchor brushed off a pale length of intestine from the barrel, set his sights on the crab meatball, and unleashed a rocket of fury. The meatball was lifted off its pinchers and pulled apart mid-air into burning pieces.
"Anchor, watch out!"
Out another shadowy tunnel, bubbles were flying into the room. Fleshy material shifted and stretched from the walls revealing fishy mouths and callous predator eyes. Hundreds of fish consisting of various colors, all armed with teeth and an insatiable hunger, kept charging after them. Anchor and Bright emptied two dozen of different guns at the incoming crowd.
"We're outnumbered," Bright said. Fear was creeping into her voice. "I think our time's up."
Anchor held her close. He knew in that moment, his previous life, his family and friends, were a thing of the past. They had left him behind because they were told lies. He couldn't change that. The only thing he could change was how he spent the rest of what so very little life he still had left to spend.
"If you're the last face I see alive, I think I can die a happy man."
"That's the sweetest thing someone's said to me in years," Bright said. "It really is too bad we can't take off our suits. We'd have some fun."
They embraced each other. Anchor appreciated the contact, despite their suits. The monsters were coming in for the attack. Death was imminent. The detonators had to be close to reaching the final seconds before the explosion.
Before anything else happened, the fleshy ground sucked them down. They were blanketed in walls of purple muscle tissue. Anchor couldn't see anything anymore. Everything was black. He could hear Bright calling out to him. There wasn't time to find her or do anything. The bombs were going off.
PART FOUR: AFTERMATH
Gargantuan Go Boom
Admiral Hardeman had a perfect view of Gargantuan when she exploded. Hardeman and his submarine crew had fought the deep sea creatures for hours. Gargantuan was like a giant meatball heated in a microwave for too long. Out the top, from all sides, walls of high-speed meat shot forth. Plumes of liquid flesh and ten different shades of blood, slime, and fish muck colored the ocean. Multiple explosions rocked the waters. The force of it knocked back the fleet of subs closest to the monster. After righting the vessel, Hardeman and his crew cheered in victory.
"Prepare missiles," Hardeman said to his elated crew. "We're not out of this yet. Those sea monsters surrounding Gargantuan are still alive."
Hardeman had misspoke.
"Hold on. Wait a second."
Hardeman watched the giant stingray, the mega turtle, and the rest of the monsters start to float to the surface. Their bodies were limp. Dead. It was as if when Gargantuan died, so did her spawn. Hardeman and his crew held their positions.
Anything could happen.
He didn't trust anything in the ocean anymore.
Pilot Reena Mitchell was hovering above the ocean near the Golden Gate Bridge. The fleet of National Guard helicopters eyed the waters for any activity. The water suddenly boiled with movement. Bursting forth to the surface, chunks of purple and yellow meat mixed with pockets of blubber and fat in thousand pound chunks. Tons and tons of raw materials muddied the waters. Military vehicles were stationed on the shores and along the Golden Gate Bridge with tanks and guns at the ready. Above in the sky, fighter jets kept performing fly bys in case whatever shot up to the surface was still alive.
Mitchell reported what she saw with pride. "GARGANTUAN IS DEAD!"
Reporter Kristie Gaines was laying low with her three-man film crew. They had been hiding out from the authorities to get their story. This project was looking more like a documentary rather than a news story. Kristie knew her crew was strung out and tired of eating out of cans and hiding out every time they heard military vehicles nearby. The coast was empty except for military presence that had tripled in the last fifteen minutes. They had footage of the sea kicking up nasty debris to the surface. They could smell it from their vantage point. She imagined raw fish mixed with battery acid and peanut oil. The stench stung nostrils. Even the gulls wanted nothing to do with the nasty hunks of debris that had beached on the San Francisco shore.
Now the area was really crawling with military on foot, up in the sky, and on the shore. Vessels were circling the mess. Boats were driving out, stirring up the remains, checking the depths for activity, and taking samples.
Kristie told her crew to keep rolling the film. This would be the story of their lives. What really bugged her was the way the government handled this affair. Millions were killed, and then the survivors weren't allowed to search for their missing loved ones. They were simply forced out of the city and relocated. Looters stayed behind and were committing crimes left and right. The true crime? Those looters were executed by the military. Kristie and her crew had footage of people lined up in the streets. They acted like a firing squad. This was really happening, she had to remind herself. This wasn't fabrication. Americans were killing Americans.
Kristie admitted only to herself how scared she was if they were caught by the military. They too would be executed. That's why they had to act with extreme caution and somehow still get the story.
More things were reaching the surface of the water. The collection of giant sea monsters that had attacked the California Coast and killed millions of civilians floated belly up.
The perimeter was cordoned off. Scientists would research the hell out of their findings.
Kristie would keep tabs on the activities.
This was the story of a lifetime and nobody was going to cheat her out of it.
Public Briefing
Ted Yearling's Presidential Address
Live from the Beach Near the Blast Zone
Eight Hours Later 3 PM
Scientific crews worked in tandem with clean-up crews to salvage the remains of Gargantuan. Down the shore from this scene, a stage had been erected. President Ted Yearling stood proudly behind his podium with his chest puffed out and his chin held high. Select news teams were allowed to attend the briefing live. A Q&A would follow the address. Captain Mendel stood among the military ranks also attending the address. Throughout the city, military embargos were searching the streets, clearing rubble, and ensuring that the city was safe. It would soon be time to rebuild and repopulate the decimated California Coast.
Captain Mendel's thoughts were filled with victory and dollar signs rather than rebuilding. With Dr. Singer dead, Mendel thought, he was in line to be promoted and take Singer's portion of the credit. Anchor was also a loose end that had been tied. Nobody from that crew had survived to reveal how the military waited to take out Gargantuan to attempt to extract live samples from the beast. That part of the mission had failed. Millions of Americans died for nothing. Or so he thought until hours ago when scientist crews were reporting finding live creatures mixed up in the remains. Everything would be smoothed over, and he'd get his promotion. Captain Mendel was confident in his thinking as the president gave his address.
"My fellow Americans, our nation has survived one of its greatest crises. By the sheer courageousness and fearlessness of America's best, our naval forces have snuffed out the threat in the ocean. Our safety is America's number one concern. Soon, we will be busy reintroducing our citizens back into the cities along the coast. I ask volunteers to support in cleaning up the cities and helping citizens be reunited with thei
r families. We will rebuild our coast after this untimely tragedy. That is my promise as your president. This is why America is the best country in the world. I am proud to be an American. I am—HOLY FUCKING SHIT! WHAT IS THAT?"
Mendel watched the president's eyes harden, and then widen in terror. He followed the president's mortified gaze and knew this situation was far from over. What was rising up from the ocean was...unbelievable.
Pieces
Marine biologist Benny Simmons couldn't contain himself. He was bagging samples of Gargantuan, weighing chunks of blubber, and reeling at the crustaceans and aquatic life embedded in the remains of the giant beast. What would it look like under a microscope? How many millions of years of information would they gather from this fact-finding clean-up mission? Other scientists were working double time to hoist the remains by commercial net onto the large boat. What they had in the net this time was a giant chunk of fat. The crew was working hard to lift the chunk without breaking the equipment. When the chunk landed on the boat's floor, it broke into several pieces with a pudding's squish.
Dozens of biologists approached the sample with sample bags and dissecting tools in hand. Pus was oozing from the openings between the fat. Broken arteries were spraying green goo. They were ankle deep in mysterious blood.
Simmons reached in with both hands, submerging both hands up to the elbows. They had found actual live specimens mixed up in the fat. The fat and blubber acted as padding to preserve the creatures.
He latched onto something, and Simmons pulled it free. What he located wasn't what he expected. Simmons was punched in the gut.
"Oaaaaaf!"
Simmons doubled over from the powerful punch. The rest of the crew came to his side to help him. When everybody realized what had attacked Simmons, the crew helped the victim out of his suit.
"It's one of our own!" Simmons declared. "No wonder he came out swinging."
The man in the suit was disoriented. They gave him water and did everything to calm him down. The man kept saying the same things.
"Where's Bright? What happened to Bright? Did she make it? Help me look for her—we have to look for her!"
Simmons couldn't do anything to console the man. Their attention wasn't on the survivor much longer when out from the ocean came...
Anchor Stevens vs. Gargantuan
Anchor couldn't make sense of the scientists hovering over him. They offered him water and asked him so many questions. He didn't care about anything they had to say. Only one thing mattered, and that was if Bright was alive. She was the only other survivor. She was also the only other one who knew the truth about his past. The second Captain Mendel found out he was alive, they were going to hunt him down. The same applied to Bright.
He had to find her.
If she was alive.
How could he find her? It might be impossible, he kept thinking.
Anchor was relieved to be out of the suit. He was breathing air, although tainted by the reek of Gargantuan's remains scattered about the water, it was still a step up from being in the confining suit.
The scientists on board kept asking him questions when the ocean shook with activity. Gargling noises, then the ocean bubbled and roared with movement. Anchor could see the largest chunk of floating meat. That meat imploded, something from within tearing itself free. Giant reptilian claws reached for the sky. Flinging pieces of meat large enough to smash into boats and sink them, Gargantuan proved itself to be alive. Gargantuan wasn't a big ball of meat. She was the monster hidden beneath so many walls of protection, and now that those walls of protection had been destroyed, Anchor knew this bitch was good and pissed off.
Flying up to the sky with its black leathery wings, Gargantuan was on the move. Anchor imagined a bone dragon covered in dark green algae. Fiery green eyes beheld the city below with callous determination to kill. The long plated lizard face screeched in the air, delivering a great plume of bright orange fire across the sky.
A declaration of war.
Gargantuan had the means to wage mass destruction. He could see between those notches of bone. Hidden were translucent sacks. Inside each sack carried sea creatures chomping at the bit to attack.
Anchor had to put a stop to the incoming destruction, somehow.
The scientists, and everybody in the area, were crying out in panic. Anchor couldn't save anybody by staying on the boat. He had to reach land and procure a military vehicle. Anchor could see tanks patrolling the streets. The skies were busy with jet fighters. Back on land was where he had to be.
Anchor noticed an unmanned jet ski floating on the water. He imagined the surging of waves when Gargantuan rose up from the ocean that had knocked the poor son of a bitch off his ride. Anchor took advantage of the situation, leaping off and paddling his arms fast. He climbed onto the jet ski and started it up. Seconds later, Anchor was speeding towards the shore.
He zipped across the water, dodging broken up ice burgs of fat and meat. Twisted sea creature bodies floated by, each one a gnarly combination of existing sea life. Anchor plowed through the corpses to reach land. Shells shattered and rank smelling meat made him gag. That made Anchor even more determined to reach land that much faster.
He ditched the jet ski and climbed across a stretch of broken up rocks. Above the hill, he noticed the stage. Members of the press were pointing up at the sky in terror. The military were getting into position and scrambling to prepare themselves for war. Tanks were lining the streets. Jeeps and military vehicles were circling around the president. Hundreds and hundreds of soldiers were occupying the area carrying rocket launchers.
Now the Calvary shows up. Where the fuck were you when we needed you the most? We could've chopped this bitch up into even smaller pieces and none of this would've happened in the first place. Now you have you to deal with this flying bitch.
President Ted Yearling was driven away in a private escort that sped from the scene. Captain Mendel had his own private vehicle. Mendel's eyes met with Anchors. At first, the captain didn't register that it was Anchor for several seconds. Denial weighed on his face, and then his features cringed with rage.
"Anchor! Of course you survived. We'll take care of that. I'm putting a kill order on you, YOU PAIN IN MY ASS!"
The captain spoke to several military officers, and then Captain Mendel retreated into his vehicle and fled the scene.
"Mendel! Come back here! Face me like a man. You stole everything that mattered in my life. Now it's about time I take something away from you!"
Anchor had to think fast. The car was a block ahead of him. He grabbed a big rock and launched it like a discuss. The rock almost fell short of hitting the vehicle at all. It bounced from the street and struck the back tire. The rock was jammed in the wheel well. The back tire popped, and the car spun out, it had been going so fast. It wrecked off-road into a mailbox.
"Score!"
Anchor was heading towards the wrecked vehicle to kick some righteous ass when a great plume of fire enveloped the stage. Gargantuan was on the attack! The reporters were roasted alive. Screams and cooked flesh put an exclamation on the beast's attack.
Rocket launchers were fired at the flying dragon beast. The blasts opened up the gel seal between its ribs and deployed creatures down onto the scene. Mutant rolling balls, mini gargantuans, produced bone spikes and plowed through soldiers. Human-sized carp fish with amphibious wings and foamy rabid mouths took flight, decapitating soldiers in split-seconds. Heart Rippers touched down, mutilating with sharp pincher hands, and tearing through sternum cages to steal juicy hearts.
The rolling meatball spikes were heading right for Anchor. He was unarmed, weak from battle fatigue, and without a clue as to how to fight this enemy. He was lucky to spot it in the corner of his eye. A motorcycle was tipped over on its side on the street. The keys were still in the ignition. Dried blood caked the console. The driver had to be dead.
Anchor mounted the motorcycle, turned on the ignition, and shot forward full-throttle. Ahead o
f him, another line of meatball creatures was speeding towards him. Anchor increased the speed, playing the deadliest game of chicken. Waiting for the right moment, punching harder, the motor heeded Anchor's demands. Surging on, he angled between two meatballs and avoided certain death.
The military was making short work of the meatballs. The enemies were on a smaller scale size. Bullets whipped them into shape. He watched rockets and machine gun fire chew and explode the creatures. Anchor slowed his motorcycle and stopped.
"Stop shooting your weapons at Gargantuan," Anchor shouted in frustration. Each shot opened up a sac on the monster's body and unleashed the monsters. "Cease fire!"
The line of military officers turned to see him. Their guns drew on him.
"Anchor Stevens, by order of the—"
Fuck this shit.
I'm not dying for my country.
I'm living for my country.
Anchor kicked up asphalt, getting some gone. Bullets pinged around the motorcycle, missing him by mere fractions of centimeters. When the firing stopped, Anchor half-turned to see sting rays wrap around the soldier's faces and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, until their brains sprayed out of every orifice of their heads. The stingrays sucked up the gray matter and left the rest of the soldiers' bodies to rot.
Behind Anchor, a throng of military vehicles and soldiers were fighting back. They weren't ready for Gargantuan to unleash every monster under her rib. Coming down in the ultimate rain of evil, sharks crossed with crabs, fish crossed with eels, turtles met with flying abilities, every twisted concoction of sea life touched down and delivered war.
Anchor wasn't sure what to do. Should he turn around and fight, or—
No chance to think.
The decision was made for him.
Anchor didn't dare move an inch. Gargantuan lowered its head down. The bone face of the beast was only two hundred feet away from his position. The nostrils sniffed. Once it caught a whiff of Anchor, the face twisted up in angry recognition.