The Tide_Ghost Fleet

by Anthony J Melchiorri

  “You are not getting rid of me that easy,” Dom hissed. He tightened his grip and dug in with the knife, tearing deeper. Black blood ran out from the growing wound. But he hadn’t hit the major artery he was aiming for.

  Another howl flew from the woods.

  “Dom, we’ve got company!” Meredith said.

  Her rifle burst to life, followed by the shrieks of a dying Skull. More of the beasts were entering the clearing, churned on by the Goliath’s frantic attempts to buck Dom.

  Dom put his weight behind the blade. This Goliath’s hide seemed tough enough to withstand a Drooler’s acid spray.

  “I found O’Neil!” Andris’s voice rang out over the comm link. “He is passed out but still breathing.”

  “Take him back to the hangar!” Dom yelled.

  The Goliath shook, and he lost his handhold. His fingers stretched out for a new one, but he fell back against one of the spikes jutting from the Goliath’s spine. Blood trickled from the Goliath’s neck, but it wasn’t enough.

  “Dom!” Meredith yelled as she fired into the oncoming Skulls again. “Get out of there!”

  “I got this,” Dom said. From the corner of his eye, he saw another flash of yellow. A normal-sized Skull was sprinting through the muddy field. Bullets plunged into the sod around it, but it seemed to dodge them with ease.

  Then it threw itself into the air, claws cartwheeling until they grabbed hold of the Goliath. While the larger beast was still trying to throw Dom off, this other Skull climbed toward him. Half of its bone plates were scarred with deep gouges. Beneath those plates was near-translucent skin stretched over twitching muscles. It seemed to be fueled by desperate starvation, coming at Dom with ropes of saliva draping from its pointed teeth.

  Dom kicked at it. His boot connected squarely with the creature’s jaw. But that didn’t make a difference.

  “Come on, Dom,” Meredith called. “We got to move!”

  Another handful of Skulls went down under her gunfire. But still others swarmed into the field.

  “Chief!” Miguel said over the comms. “Ronaldo’s people are incoming. ETA ten minutes.”

  The climbing Skull grabbed Dom’s ankle, threatening to pull him off the Goliath. He tried to fend off the smaller Skull while scaling the Goliath’s neck.

  “I’m coming to help you,” Meredith said. “I’m not letting you kill yourself like this.”

  “I’m not killing myself,” Dom said. He reached the Goliath’s neck again. But this time he didn’t bother to saw through the flesh and tendons. “I’m going to kill this bastard.”

  He unclipped a grenade. The Goliath twisted its head, letting out another roar that battered Dom’s eardrums. The smaller Skull clung to his ankle, pulling with all its strength. Dom threw the grenade into the cavernous maw of the giant beast. The Goliath’s mouth slammed shut, nearly snapping off Dom’s arm. Tusk clashed against tusk. It looked temporarily stunned, swallowing instinctually before roaring again.

  Now Dom let go and jumped. The smaller Skull followed, claws slashing at Dom all the while.

  Dom ran.

  The weighty stomps of the Goliath sounded close behind him. The smaller Skull shrieked.

  “Hurry!” Meredith yelled.

  He ran toward her as she laid down covering fire.

  “Move!” Dom called back. “Move!”

  He couldn’t bear to see her get hurt because of him. He stole a glance behind him. The Goliath’s eyes suddenly bugged out from its bony mask. Its gut expanded then broke through its overgrown ribs. Ropes of gore spewed out in an expanding crimson ball, carried by hot tongues of flame.

  The macabre debris rolled over Dom, carrying him and the other Skull into the air like shrapnel.

  -27-

  Meredith dropped her rifle and caught Dom. The impact sent her flying backward with him. Chunks of the Goliath rained around them and splattered against the trees and turf. The Skull that had been chasing Dom crumpled as it fell. Its neck cracked, and its head hung off its now-limp body at an unnatural angle.

  And yet somehow, the Goliath still wasn’t dead. Dying, most definitely. But not dead.

  “You... okay?” Dom gasped, brushing the ash and blood from his face.

  “Christ,” she said. “I should be asking you that question. Can you stand?”

  Blood covered his fatigues. She hoped it was all from the Goliath. Dom made it to his feet with her help. Then he looked back at what she’d already seen.

  The Goliath’s legs had been severed from its body, lying still like fallen trees in the clearing. It was still clinging to life, dragging its torso toward them. Blood trickled out of the corners of its mouth. Entrails dragged behind it.

  After only a few yards, its head slumped forward. Its eyes rolled back, lifeless, and the last streams of blood pumped from its wounds.

  The Goliath was finally gone, but its brethren were not.

  Screaming and howling, Skulls poured over the Goliath’s body. They tore out of the woods, careening across the field like starving wolves who had seen meat for the first time in weeks. A fresh surge of adrenaline tore through her vessels. She grabbed Dom and dragged him with her. He stumbled at first, slightly disoriented from the blast. Soon they were winding between the trees, chased by the ravenous cries.

  “Miguel,” Meredith managed to say between labored breaths. “We’re on route. On your position in two and bringing heat.”

  “Copy,” Miguel said. “It was getting damn cold and boring around here.”

  Dom tripped, but Meredith caught him. She was worried Dom might’ve been injured. But as they continued, he began running full steam ahead on his own.

  Together, they escaped the confines of the forest. Trees gave way to the husks of burned-out cars and abandoned planes littering the small airfield.

  “We see you!” Miguel said, waving from the entrance of the hangar.

  With safety in view, the pain in Meredith’s joints and the burn in her muscles seemed to return, no longer contained by the blanket of adrenaline. Still, she did not slow. She and Dom raced between the vehicles and under the wings of the aircraft.

  The Skulls stayed on their trail. Claws scraped over metal and asphalt as more monsters emerged from the woods. Some wore the remnants of civilian clothes, blue jeans and shirts flagging from their wasted frames. Others had abandoned all shreds—literal and otherwise—of humanity, coming at them naked except for the bone plates and spikes adorning their bodies.

  No matter their state of dress, all wore expressions of intense hunger. Lips bared. Teeth chattering. Eyes scarlet and pulsating.

  In front of her were Andris, Miguel, Jenna, Glenn, and Frank. They had created a series of makeshift barricades in front of the hangar’s entrance, made from airport vehicles, crates, and even abandoned luggage. Andris waved them onward, and Meredith and Dom ran at full speed for the low wall. The others opened fire.

  Skulls fell in waves. Their bodies crumpled and slid across the asphalt or slammed into cars and refueling trucks. They crashed to the ground with cracked bone plates and broken limbs as they ran headlong into the storm of lead.

  But what they lacked in tactics they made up for in numbers.

  “How are we going to hold this place?” Jenna asked.

  “By killing every one of those bastards,” Dom growled, shouldering his rifle. He sent a burst of rounds into a limping Drooler. The shriveled creature with its bloated belly exploded, dousing the nearby Skulls in the acidic content of its mutated stomach. Monsters writhed and fell, their flesh dissolving.

  Meredith joined in the chorus of rifle fire. The Hunters were not worried about conserving ammunition now. They had to hold this field at all costs.

  The sound of aircraft engines whined in the distance.

  “Hunters, this is Lieutenant Peres. We’re making our descent,” said a voice over their comms.

  “Copy,” Dom said. “LZ may be a little hot, but we’re doing our best to keep it clear.”

  The dro
ne of the aircraft grew louder. A C-130 Hercules was coming in low, headed for the airstrip. Skulls still clambered toward the Hunters across the tarmac. A few looked at the aircraft, but they didn’t comprehend their fate.

  While the Hunters struggled to hold the monsters back, the C-130 touched down and screeched over the airstrip. It plowed through a pack of Skulls. Their bodies were crushed under the wheels or exploded into fine red mist as they hit the nose and bulkhead of the plane.

  After the initial few collisions, the C-130 made it to a clear patch of runway, coming to a stop. The sight of the huge bird and its still-churning engines distracted the Skulls. Most split off toward it.

  But Meredith would be damned if those things took out Peres or his crew. She sighted up a rotund Skull and peppered it with rounds. Geysers of blood and splinters of bone spewed from its chest. It collapsed, carried by its own momentum. Others trampled it into the asphalt, but they, too, met the hail of lead from the Hunters.

  To Meredith’s surprise, the back of the C-130 opened. Airmen formed a perimeter around the rear of the plane. They let loose a salvo of fire that leveled the Skulls running toward them.

  “Hell yeah!” Miguel said, pumping his fist in the air.

  “Ronaldo didn’t just send us the horses to ride out of here,” Frank said. “He sent us the cowboys, too!”

  It didn’t take long for them to clear the runway of Skulls. In a matter of minutes, the airmen had brought out their spare fuel and ammunition, loading up the Seahawk with more than enough provisions to make it back to the Huntress as it chased the Karlstad.

  Many of the men and women on the plane had seen the Hunters before, but their reunion was short. The pressing need to get to the Huntress and stop the FGL from using those nuclear weapons called to them. Meredith ran back to the hangar where the Hunters had made their base camp. Dom joined her. O’Neil was still unconscious, though the nosebleed had stopped. His ribs rose and fell in a slow rhythm.

  “Help me with him?” she asked.

  “Of course.” Dom scooped his hands under the Hybrid’s armpits.

  Together they carried O’Neil toward the Seahawk. Frank was already in the pilot’s seat, and the engines were warming up.

  “Thanks for helping me and Andris out there,” she said.

  Dom shook his head. “You’re the ones who intercepted that Goliath. If you two and O’Neil hadn’t done that, the big bastard would’ve wreaked havoc all over the runway. A C-130 can withstand a couple of normal-sized Skulls, but I doubt very much it would’ve done so well against a Goliath.”

  Once they loaded O’Neil into an empty seat and strapped him in, they returned to the hangar for the last member of their crew. Spencer lay where they had left him, cold and stiff. There was no peaceful expression on his face. Just a tight, pained grimace that Meredith knew would haunt her—and Dom—for decades to come.

  If they survived this war, that is.

  Spencer was a big man, more muscle than anything else. He was heavy and bulky.

  “Should we get someone else to help?” Meredith asked as they lifted him with far more difficulty than when they’d carried O’Neil.

  “No,” Dom said. “We can handle it.” He gave her a raw, earnest look, one that asked her not to press the issue. There was something else behind those words. It had taken Meredith a couple of decades to get to know Dom but only a few seconds to understand why he wanted to carry Spencer himself. It had been his choice that led to Spencer’s death, and he felt the full weight of that responsibility. He didn’t want to burden anyone else with the blame.

  Something shifted inside her when Meredith realized that she was the only person he trusted to help him. She’d never expected to have a connection like the one she shared with him, and it had been a hell of a long time coming. Their eyes met for a moment, and Meredith tried to convey all the strength and love she had to give.

  “He’ll have a proper funeral at sea,” Dom said.

  “I’m glad we can give him that,” Meredith said.

  She wondered when they’d have a chance to pay Spencer the proper respects he deserved. The Karlstad hadn’t been stopped, and there was no telling when the FGL planned to make their next move.

  Soon, they were saying their goodbyes to Peres and his airmen, who escorted the French family aboard their plane. The Seahawk rose, and the C-130 took off in the opposite direction. It disappeared over the horizon, back toward Lajes Field, and the Seahawk took them to the east, off to stop a nuclear apocalypse.

  ***

  The Skull threw itself at Lauren. The whites of its eyes no longer existed, marred by broken blood vessels and stained a sickly yellow at the corners. Long strands of dark hair twisted from between its crown of horns. Shoulder blades curved out from beneath gray flesh. Long, needlelike teeth clashed together, grinding and chattering.

  And if that acrylic partition hadn’t been there, Lauren would’ve been terrified. What was worse than terrified? Good Lord, whatever was worse than that, she was it.

  “I’ve never seen so many Skulls in one place,” Lauren said. “I mean, I’ve been off the ship a couple of times, but... wow.”

  The Skull opened and closed its mouth against the acrylic as if it could gnaw its way through. Its tongue smeared bloodied saliva.

  Navid seemed less impressed. He’d lived through Boston and watched his girlfriend turn into a Skull. He’d escaped dozens of the monsters and even a Goliath. He was no stranger to these creatures in the wild. Still, despite his bored expression, Lauren noticed goosebumps along his arms.

  “Ah, yes,” Emma Fischer said. The lead production scientist had taken Navid and Lauren on this tour at the behest of Felix Becker. “It was rather troublesome to procure all these specimens.”

  Emma indicated the long hall of individual cells with the wave of her hand. Each cell contained at least one live Skull. Lauren tried not to think about what would happen if the security systems failed.

  “So I guess we’ll be able to test the Hybrid pheromone cocktail,” Lauren said.

  “That’s right,” Emma said.

  “I was thinking about starting with just neurological tissues in a culture dish, though, not a whole Skull.”

  “Why not aim high?” Emma said.

  Lauren considered the question. In her normal scientific work, the process from benchtop work to testing therapies and medical devices in live specimens was a lengthy one fraught with ethical and moral hurdles. She supposed now that they were testing weapons against an enemy hell-bent on their destruction, none of those rules mattered. Still, Lauren’s ingrained scientific instinct told her testing the pheromones on Skulls was somehow wrong.

  She pressed a hand against the acrylic partition. The monstrosity in there lashed out at the motion, clawing and biting like an enraged zoo animal unable to escape its cage. Despite its animosity, its primal hunger, if Lauren squinted, she could see the human it had once been. In her mind, she erased the jaundiced, bony cheekbones and the claws that could eviscerate a man in one swipe. She took away the ribcage protruding from the skin and the elongated vertebrae that snaked along the Skull’s back.

  In the Skull’s place, she saw a woman in her early forties. She had dark brown hair and eyes to match. Maybe she had even been a doctor who had devoted her last days to helping her fellow man, trying to stop the spread of the Oni Agent and fighting all the odds in a desperate attempt to save her patients.

  And in the end she failed.

  How many doctors out there had fallen, trying to save patients that were beyond redemption? All because one rogue group had decided to unleash a biological agent on the world that no one was prepared for.

  Lauren’s chest swelled with determination. At least now they had a cure, and production had begun in the US and here in Frankfurt to ensure the cure made it out to the general population. No one would have to face what the doctor in Lauren’s imagination had endured.

  “Doctor?” Emma said, drawing Lauren to join them again in realit
y.

  “Yes,” Lauren said. “We can try it on the Skulls.”

  “Seriously?” Navid asked, eyes wide.

  “We don’t have time for all the usual experiments,” she said. “The best way to test the pheromone devices or weapons is to directly observe their effects on a live subject’s behavior.”

  “Don’t worry, Dr. Winters,” Emma said, leaning against the acrylic partition. She ignored the Skull behind her thrashing against it. “All we need from you is to identify the pheromones. We will develop the weapons and the delivery devices.”

  “Probably best that way,” Navid said. “I don’t mean to sound arrogant, but we’ve gotten pretty good at dealing with Oni Agent-related biological and chemical-based therapies. Weapons are a different matter entirely.”

  “I do not confuse arrogance with honesty,” Emma said. “We brought you to this facility for that reason. We heard good things about your ingenuity when it came to pharmaceutical and genetic engineering.”

  Lauren started to nod then stopped. Something about that statement didn’t line up with what Lauren had been told so far about their role at the Mueller facility. Normally what Emma had just said wouldn’t arouse Lauren’s suspicions, but after wondering what Felix’s true intentions had been in their prior conversations, she couldn’t help herself.

  “Why exactly were you storing all these Skulls?” she asked. “We only just got here, so it’s not because of our research.”

  “They are test subjects,” Emma answered.

  “The Phoenix Compound can’t do anything for people in the advanced stages of Oni Agent infection,” Lauren said.

  “You misunderstand. These Skulls are not being used to test cures,” Emma said. “We are quite aware that the changes are irreversible.”

  Then it became clear to Lauren. She and Navid hadn’t been recruited just because of their familiarity with therapies and cures to save lives. During her time with the Hunters, Lauren had been exposed to all manner of biological weapons, from home-brewed dirty bombs manufactured in terrorists’ garages to genetically engineered viruses developed in multimillion-dollar government facilities. This plant wasn’t just being used to produce the Phoenix Compound. There were far too many people here and far too much work going on before Lauren and Navid had even arrived at the compound. They’d already been hard at work on something.