Poseidon’s Children

by Michael West

  Helen’s hands went to her stomach, felt the shredded fabric of her uniform and the sticky warmth beneath. When she looked up, she saw a dark mass slip off her desk, dragging bloodied paperwork onto the floor with a sick splat; she followed it down.

  The beasts moved to her computer terminal and one of them started to type.

  •••

  Peggy’s door creaked opened; a dark shape looked in.

  Larry grabbed the shadow from behind, held it in a stranglehold and pulled it inside.

  “Let go of me!” the intruder cried as it worked to free itself.

  Larry tightened his grip and wrestled it to the ground. Barbara sat on the bed with her back toward the door, holding Peggy close to her, using her own body as a shield. She looked up, saw what was struggling in Larry’s grasp, and sighed with relief. “Let go of him.”

  Larry glanced up at her, then at the thing in his arms. It was a man, but that fact meant nothing. His eyes returned to Barbara. “You sure?”

  She nodded.

  Larry let go and backed away.

  Roger Hays staggered to his feet, smoothed his hair and adjusted his tie; his eyes darted around the room with contempt. “What the hell do you people think you’re doing?”

  Larry ignored him and motioned for the two women. They climbed down from the hospital bed, Peggy holding the spot on her arm where she’d removed the IV needle.

  “What’s going on here?” Hays demanded.

  “We’re leaving.” Larry opened the door, peered down the hallway in either direction, then turned back to his companions. “All clear.”

  They stepped out into the rosy gloom; Roger was two steps behind them, confusion and mistrust still swimming in his eyes. Why would Hays show up now? Did the man know more than he was letting on? Larry was certain of nothing but the fact that Peggy was in real danger.

  “Follow me,” Barbara directed.

  The group hurried down the hallway, followed by the sound of screams.

  •••

  Brahm checked room after room, finding patient ventilators and other equipment still online. There was no reason why they shouldn’t be; backup generators kicked on the instant power was interrupted. But, because he didn’t know the cause of the outage, the doctor thought it wise to make sure.

  He felt a tap on his shoulder and nearly leapt out of his skin.

  “Sorry, Doc.” It was just one of the orderlies. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “I’m fine,” Brahm told him, still startled.

  “Anything you need me to do?”

  “Yes.” Brahm pointed down the hall. “Why don’t you check those rooms, let people know that everything’s fine and the power should be back up soon.”

  And, with a quick nod, the orderly strutted off down the corridor.

  Brahm hadn’t taken more than a few steps into the next room when he heard the screams; they were loud, shrill, but definitely male. The doctor didn’t know what he might find when turned around, but monsters weren’t even in his realm of possibilities.

  The first creature stood on two legs; a tall, muscular nightmare. It hunched over, its arched back outlined in a spiny dorsal ridge. Its shadowy tail swept the width of the hallway, ending in a wide fin like an oriental fan. And, most frightening of all, its face was the triangular snout of a great white shark.

  A second animal stood over the fallen orderly, its hinged jaw filled with jutting fangs. A serpentine stem grew from its forehead, crowned by a glowing ball of blue-white light. This creature was shorter than the shark-thing, covered in shimmering scales, and it held the orderly’s screaming face in webbed talons.

  Brahm took a step from the doorway to attempt a rescue, but it was already too late. The beast clamped its enormous mouth around the orderly’s skull and bit down with an audible wet snap.

  The shark-thing caught sight of Brahm and rushed the doorway where he stood, accelerating with frightful agility; a beard of long, black filaments trailed from its chin like catfish whiskers.

  Brahm slammed the door and the creature plowed into it, forced it open just a crack. Somehow, Brahm managed to push it closed again; he fumbled for the deadbolt and locked the monster outside. When he stood upright, a single black eye stared at him through the wired-glass in the door. It quickly disappeared, replaced by a scaly fist that turned the window into a sparkling explosion. The creature clawed the wire mesh from the opening and reached down for the lock.

  Brahm scanned the room in a panic. His eyes drifted past the window on the opposite wall, then shot back to it. Five flights. Too high to jump.

  Rabid growls came from behind him. Unable to reach the bolt, the shark-thing threw its weight against the door, cracking it.

  Out of options, Brahm ran to the window. The latch slid easily, but the glass wouldn’t budge. Painted shut. He pulled a pair of bandage scissors from his pocket, slashing and scraping at the seams.

  Behind him, the door splintered. Brahm glanced across his shoulder and saw the shark-thing’s snout punch through the wood; its serrated teeth formed a feral grin.

  Brahm worked feverishly, chipped away paint until he could get the window open. Outside, there was no ledge to crawl across, no awning to break his fall, no tree to climb. He scanned the wall and found a drainpipe to his right. He took off his scrub jacket and climbed onto the windowsill.

  The creature managed to reach the deadbolt; it rushed into the room, arms extended, jaws opened wide.

  Brahm grabbed the pipe and swung over. He pinched it between his thighs, looped his scrub jacket around it, and, holding fast to both ends, started down.

  The animal reached out and tugged viciously on the pipe. Brahm saw a support bracket pop loose from the wall and concrete dust rained into his eyes. He continued down the face of the hospital, reaching the second story windows before the vibration became too great. Metal brackets fell past him and his drainpipe pulled away from the building.

  Brahm closed his eyes.

  •••

  “What was that?” Hays wanted to know.

  Fear ignited in Barbara’s eyes. “They’re here.”

  Peggy paid little attention; she cringed against the wall, fiercely rubbing her now human hand. To a passer by, it would have appeared as if she were trying to wipe a mark from her skin, but it was the flesh itself she wished to be rid of.

  “Where can she hide?” Larry asked.

  Before Barbara could respond, the sound of heavy breathing drifted down the corridor, like overworked horses charging toward them. Larry knew there was no time for debate. Whatever these things were, they were coming to claim Peggy’s life.

  He pushed the women. “Get to the stairs.”

  Roger opened his suit jacket, produced a .45 pistol from a holster concealed within. Larry’s stare froze on its barrel.

  “For protection,” Hays told him.

  Larry wondered briefly what this man needed protection from, but it didn’t really matter. As demonic sounds filled the hallway, Larry was just glad someone was armed. “How’d you get that past security?”

  “I came in through the emergency room entrance. No metal detectors. They’d go off every time an EMT wheeled in a gurney.”

  A duty nurse sat behind a desk at the end of the hall; she caught sight of Hays’ weapon and her eyes widened.

  “Call security,” Larry told her. “No, call the police. Tell them there’s a dangerous animal loose in the hospital.”

  She nodded, picked up the phone to dial.

  A pair of dark shapes entered the hallway behind them. One of the silhouettes Larry recognized from the night of Susan’s attack, the same half shark-half man he’d seen in the waves. The other creature was different, more bizarre; a snake with a glowing head slithered from between its eyes.

  “Is that what attacked my boy?” Roger asked.

  Larry nodded. “Yes.”

  “Quit your jawjackin’,” Barbara urged. “We gotta run!” They hastened down the hall, everyone but Roger. Th
e man stood frozen, the red glow of emergency lights casting a sinister look across his face. The creatures were stopped at the far end of the passage, unsure of their target, but they weren’t going to stand still for long.

  “Come on, Hays,” Larry called.

  Roger turned to him, rage welling from somewhere within. He’d found his son’s killer. Nothing else mattered. “You go on.”

  Peggy and Barbara were halfway to the stairs. Larry turned away; ran after them with a speed born of fear, not so much for his own life, but for the woman he loved. He heard the echo of gunfire as he reached the steps, but there was no time to stop and watch the action.

  •••

  Dr. Kyle Brahm landed on the canvas top of a Chevy Cavalier convertible; he bounced off the fabric like a trampoline, then laid there for a moment. The clanging drainpipe, and the throbbing of his own heartbeat, filled his ears. After a moment, when he realized he was still alive, he opened his eyes and laughed.

  •••

  Roger Hays stood his ground in the center of the corridor, blocking the creatures’ charge. He raised his .45, held the butt in both hands as if he were home on his firing range, only now the targets had faces; grotesque, unnatural faces.

  “You bastards killed my son!”

  Roger took aim, centered his barrel on the shark-like head of the first creature. It came at him with remarkable speed. He squeezed the trigger, heard a resounding thunderclap, and saw a flash of light that burned the image of the hallway and the two beasts into his eye like the negative of a photograph. Petals of blood bloomed from the creature’s shoulder. It staggered, then fell backward onto the linoleum, its tail flailing, digging craters in the plasterwork of the walls.

  The other monster, the one with a light bulb jutting from its forehead, halted and turned its attention toward its injured comrade. The wounded animal made a gesture that suggested it was fine, then rolled over onto all fours, resembling one of the fin-backed dinosaurs Hays had seen in museums. A dark river flowed from the hole in its shoulder, but it was still alive, and like any wounded creature, it was angry. It charged, its sharpened claws clicking against the floor as it advanced, its jaws wide open.

  Hays dove over the counter of the nurses’ station; landed on a chair. The seat, upset by his weight, tipped off its rollers and the floor rushed up to meet his face. A thunderous crash rocked the desk as the creature smashed into the spot where he had been standing a moment before. Roger’s body was flooded by pain, but he challenged its control. He was not going to be a meal for this freak of nature, this murdering evil that had claimed his only son.

  Hays still held the gun in his hand. He heard the creature get to its feet, felt the warmth of its breath on the nape of his neck; he rolled onto his back and blindly fired off a shot. The beast moved from the line of fire with cat-like speed and was gone from view.

  “Forget him!” The voice was deep and gurgling, an evil spirit from a cauldron. Roger realized it was the other creature, the one with the glow-tipped whip on its head; it wanted to continue after Neuhaus and the women.

  On the floor beside Hays, a nurse sat on her knees, her ears covered to block out sounds from both animal and gunfire. Roger hoped she would have the sense to stay down. He, on the other hand, rose to his feet and fired off another round; it struck the wall just behind the now moving targets.

  The demons bolted through the reddish gloom with great speed and determination.

  Hays ran after them.

  •••

  Peggy glanced over her shoulder, more than a little surprised to see Larry still there. After all, she was a freak now, wasn’t she? Peggy wished she had time to stop and talk to him, time to find out if his feelings toward her had changed. If he could no longer care for her, no longer love her as she still loved him, she would understand, but she would also stop running. Better to let the animals rip her heart out quickly than to die slowly from its empty ache.

  Their footfalls echoed through the stairwell, sounding more like a stampede than three people. Barbara seemed so strong for her age. Peggy’s condition was also surprisingly good. Despite the workout she’d given her shoulder, it caused her no pain at all; it was as if her body had gained strength and the ability to heal in addition to the power to transform into...into what she had yet to fully discover.

  Above them, the door to the stairwell flew open. Peggy looked up; the face of her pursuer hung over the railing, eyes like two polished black marbles, a string of drool dangling from its saw-toothed jaws. It growled at her, then began its own descent.

  Peggy studied her hand, saw it was normal and knew it was not.

  Why couldn’t they have just killed me? I wish I’d never screamed for help in that alley.

  If she’d just let the creature have her then, this nightmare would be over and she’d be having a catfight with Natalie in Heaven right now.

  And then Larry would’ve blamed himself for not being there a moment sooner, would’ve put his hand through another mirror, or worse.

  Peggy’s stomach sank and she turned her attention to the steps, suddenly aware of the fact that she had no idea where they were going. She supposed it didn’t matter.

  Barbara knew.

  Peggy trusted this woman; she had a feeling that she needed Barbara, a feeling that this woman was important to her in some way.

  Maybe she has the cure. Maybe she’s taking me to a place where she can make me normal again.

  Peggy prayed that was the case.

  They reached a metal landing; to the left, a door stenciled with a large “1,” to the right, the stairs spiraled down into the basement. Barbara turned to Larry. “Leave us!”

  “No way!”

  “You can’t go where we’re goin’, and they’ll only kill you if you try.”

  Peggy let go of the railing and took his hand. “Larry, do what she says. Please.”

  He squeezed her fingers, then looked to the old woman. “You’ll protect her?”

  “With my life.”

  He nodded. “How will I find you?”

  “Get to the church in Colonial Bay.” Barbara’s voice was nearly lost beneath the growls and clatter from above. “There’s a door behind the altar.”

  Barbara tugged at Peggy’s arm, pulled her toward the basement stairs. Peggy broke loose and ran to Larry; she kissed him deeply, passionately, then pushed him away and rejoined Barbara, a single tear racing down her cheek.

  “Go,” Peggy told him. “Just...just go.”

  Larry stared at her a moment, shot a glance up the stairway, then ran onto the first floor. When she was certain that he wouldn’t follow, Peggy resumed her downward trek.

  A large white “B” marked the door at the end of the staircase. Barbara pushed it open. What they saw was more maintenance closet than basement; mops and brooms hung from hooks on the wall, mop buckets sat filled with pungent water on the floor, and chemicals and cleaning solutions sat on shelves waiting to be used. On the other side of the room, two more doors, one was marked “Incinerator,” the other “Laundry.” Barbara led Peggy toward the Laundry.

  Industrial washers, dryers, and rolling canvas hampers filled the room. Barbara paid attention to none of them. Instead, she ran to a large metal drain in the center of the concrete floor. The grate must have been heavy, but the old woman cast it aside as if it were made of cotton. “This storm drain runs about half a mile, then empties into the bay. In you go.”

  Peggy stared at the opening. “Half a mile through the sewer?”

  Barbara nodded.

  “No.” Peggy back away from the drain, wanted it all over and done.

  Barbara flashed a look of annoyance. “We don’t have time for this. You need to do what I say when I say if you wanna live.”

  Reluctantly, Peggy moved to the edge and jumped in. The splash echoed in her ears as she surveyed her cramped surroundings. She was up to her waist in cold, glutinous water that stank of mold and excrement.

  Barbara splashed into the tunn
el beside Peggy; she took a moment to orient herself, then grabbed Peggy’s hand. “This way.”

  Peggy let the old woman guide her into the foul darkness of the drainpipe. The concrete cavern filled with the faint echoes of gunshots and screeching behind them, and Peggy hoped that the creatures, whatever they were, had at last been slain. Their horrible mewling returned, however. They hadn’t abandoned their chase; in fact, they were closing in.

  Within minutes, Peggy could see moonlight dancing on swells in the bay. The drain’s opening was like a cave in the cliff face. Fetid water rushed over their feet, an engineered waterfall that fell into the ocean below. Peggy scanned the rock around the opening. It wasn’t smooth, but it couldn’t be easily climbed, and the drop into the waves was at least fifty feet. She threw up her hands. “Great. What now?”

  “Now, we swim.”

  Peggy looked down at the breakers and realized Barbara meant for them to jump. “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “You mean change, don’t you? Forget it. I’m not becoming one of those...those things.”

  Barbara placed a hand on the small of Peggy’s back and pushed.

  The tide flew toward Peggy at break-neck speed; it rushed into her mouth, silenced her screams. When her lungs shrieked that they would drown, her body instinctively transformed. First, her neck opened; slits became undulating flaps, pushing oxygen-saturated water through filters that allowed her to breath. Peggy reached up to touch her newly formed gills, amazed and terrified by them at the same time. As before, the process caused her little pain. Muscles expanded and tightened. Bones lengthened in her fingers and toes. Veins and arteries could now be seen, pumping fluid to and from her extremities like dark rivers. Her skin was not only transparent, but phosphorus as well, glowing with an inner system of illumination, as if strings of Christmas bulbs had somehow been implanted in her flesh. She’d seen nature programs about creatures that lived in endless night at great depths, alien things that appeared to be made of light; it seemed that Peggy had now joined their ranks. She longed for a mirror, so she might gaze upon her new face, then wondered if she would have the courage.