by J A Bouma
That’ll leave a mark.
The other three tumbled into one another, falling into the display panel and knocking their heads together. That’ll leave a double mark.
“Kill the engines!” he commanded.
“Are you being crazy?” Nia exclaimed from the floor.
Ford turned to her. “For your FYI, no! Because we’ll get front-row tickets to Saint Pete’s pearly gates with those engines blaring the way they are at the rate we’re being sucked down by—”
What were they being sucked down by?
He shook his head. “Just do it, would ya?” Then he returned to the controls.
Thankfully, Nia didn’t put up a fuss. Reaching up from the floor, she killed the engines down to idle speed.
Yet down the fish went, the digital depth gauge crashing into oblivion the farther they dropped.
Ford thought he was going to puke with the way his stomach was being put through the wringer. Like one of those roller coaster rides he loved as a kid. Devil’s Dare, it was called, an eighty-degree plunge down thirteen stories standing up in some crazy-ass harness.
But back then he was a teenager with a death wish. Now he was more than twice as old with irritable bowel syndrome and a back that barked during summer storms from too much football. He was not up for a replay of Devil’s Dare! Especially with three others on board.
The pair of Vostakana nationals were jibber-jabbering at each other in their Muscovia tongue, trying to get off the floor as the hydrocraft kept plunging farther down into the depths of Hades itself. Lucy was rubbing her head and wincing.
Thankfully, the fish had stopped shuddering. At least they had that going for them. Although Ford would have taken that over the nosedive any day of the week!
“Do something!” Nia shouted, finally managing to stand.
“I am!” Ford shouted back.
“Well, be doing something else,” Sasha joined in the complaint.
“Not that I want to pile on or nothin’…” Lucy said, standing on wobbly feet, “but giving our hydrocraft a good kick in the ass would be mighty nice right about now.”
Ford clenched his jaw tighter; same for his hands around the control wheel. It was nothing doing.
“Controls are totally useless!” he grumbled. “I can’t make the cotton-pickin’ thing climb for shucky ducky!”
Jesus, take the wheel!
But then something entirely unexpected happened.
His prayer was answered.
As quickly as the hydrocraft dipped, it started soaring toward the surface. Up, up, up it went. As if caught in the tractor beam of one of those laughably wrong futuristic DiviNet bargain-bin ebooks from last century.
The Vostakana pair tumbled backward to the floor again, cursing in their motherland tongue but managing to upright themselves while Lucy held on to Ford’s seatback as the fish continued its climb.
Sasha laughed and slapped Ford on the back. “Way to be telling the PSV who’s the bossman!”
“Da, I’ve got to be handing it to you,” Nia said, offering her own congratulatory pat. “You certainly know how to handle a hydrocraft.”
Lucy squeezed his shoulder. “Yeah, Ford, some fancy footwork you got there!”
Ford manhandled the control wheel again, straining against yet another powerful tug, a pit growing in his stomach at what was happening.
Didn’t make sense in the slightest, what with the force propelling the fish forward, toward the surface, with the engines cut to idle.
Sucking it upward, toward the surface at the speed of hyperspace from one of said laughably wrong futuristic DiviNet bargain-bin ebooks from last century.
“What is it?” Nia said, nodding to Ford and making a motion with her hand at her face. Clearly she saw the confusion written all over his.
He said, “Thanks for the attaboys, but it ain’t me.”
“Huh?” Lucy said, staring out the front windshield.
Nia joined her. “What are you meaning that it is not being you?”
“I mean—” Ford hit the display panel with his fist, twisting up his face in anger before trying to wrestle the control wheel again. “I ain’t in control!”
“Then what is it that you are doing?” she asked with confusion.
“Guys…” Sasha said, but the pair ignored him.
“Nothing! That’s the point!” Ford exclaimed, motioning toward the display panel again.
“Then how is it that we are climbing so quickly after we were plummeting toward the ocean floor?” Nia asked in frustration.
“Guys…” Sasha said again, still being ignored by the pair now going at it.
Ford mumbled a curse under his breath. “I don’t know! That’s what I’m trying—”
“Guys!”
“What?” Ford and Nia both shouted at their companion.
“L–L–Look!” the man said, pointing a wavy finger toward the front window.
Ford and Nia followed his arm.
But it was too late.
Lucy sucked in a breath and muttered, “Golly…”
Ford spotted it as well—a bright blue that reminded him of Bondi Beach in the South Pacific. The most peaceful and serene picture of paradise he had ever seen in his life while hunting down a group of Unfits in the Australian outback. Stopped over at the famous beach for a little R&R, digging his toes in its powder-white sand and leaning against a palm tree with a damn-good mojito, just staring into that pool of blue, mesmerized by how rich and thick its shades were in all its reflective brilliance of the sky.
And there it was. Same blue brilliance, same bright sky filtering down into the ocean just a hundred yards away now.
Which shouldn’t have been there, considering they were supposed to be shrouded by the deep, dark navy blue more typical of life beneath the ocean’s surface.
That’s when the show really began.
Ford stood, mouth agape. “Uh...what the hot Hades is going on?”
Nia said some Muscovia gibberish but got the point across.
She clearly didn’t have an answer for him.
If Ford had to guess, they were sailing toward the surface of the ocean on the back of some wicked, unseen force.
And fast.
Only a few feet now before—
“Here we go…” he muttered.
The hydrocraft popped out to the ocean’s surface like a champagne cork sailing from a bottle.
Right before crashing down and sailing forward some more in a phantasmic show of surreal maritime showmanship.
The trio lurched forward as the fish leveled out.
And that’s when the mystery really began.
“What is happening?” Sasha asked on a frightened breath. Same question as before, just different equation.
“Not what,” Lucy said, matching his fright. “How…”
Now that was indeed the question of the day. Ford didn’t know the answer to the second—didn’t much care. Didn’t know why, either. What he figured was the what.
And the what wasn’t anything good.
“Tsunami…” Ford said, voice dry from the chaos.
“What was that you are saying?” Nia asked.
He swallowed hard and answered, “I think it’s a tsunami! A massive wave formed up when a large volume of water is displaced by a massive seismic event.”
“Like an earthquake?”
“Like an earthquake.”
She sucked in a frightened breath. “O Gospodi…tsunami.”
“And we’re riding its crest toward…who the hot Hades knows!”
“We are being like a surfboard?” Sasha asked.
Ford nodded, saying nothing, mouth open in disbelief with a strong feeling he knew exactly what was happening.
And how.
They were indeed sailing on a crested wave, engines still killed to nothing yet catapulting toward who knew where, several stories up above the ocean water below under a cloudless sky, sun high and mocking with hope.
He chanced a
glance out the front at what they were dealing with as they continued riding the wave—the taste of copper instantly flooding his mouth as cold adrenaline spread through his body at the sight below.
Several stories was right!
Seven or eight, maybe even ten by his count! A gigantic ball of energy must have slammed into the earth to cause that much force. And the massive wave was gaining steam now by the second, the mound of water they were riding stacking up higher and higher as it picked up pace, rushing faster and faster in all of its powerful blue brilliance on toward—
“Shore…” Sasha muttered.
Ford turned to him. “What was that, doc?”
“Sh–Sh–Shore!”
He spun back toward the front—catching what he hadn’t noticed before.
Various shades of brown, smattered with some dull shades of green were coming into view now through a haze on the horizon, compounded by the gunmetal gray of buildings from the past century.
There it was.
Shore.
And they were barreling toward it like a fox leaving a henhouse at the first shout of gunfire!
“Shore!” Ford exclaimed.
“That’s what I was saying!”
Ford ushered the Ukrainski pair toward the belted seats along the walls of the hydrocraft. “We’ve got a hot minute to brace for impact. Strap in, compadres!”
They did. Nia and Sasha took the wall opposite of Lucy and Ford, who had a hella time getting the straps on his seat loose enough to slide into.
Still fumbling with the nylon restraints, he chanced a glance outside.
Wrong move.
They were closer now, which sent him into a panic. The Grip, as he called it that had plagued him since childhood, seized him. Jumbled his thoughts and concentration something fierce! Which gave him four left hands as he tried to get the damn restraints to cooperate—all the while a complete disconnect between mind, body, and spirit left him paralyzed, a condition that had been cured during his years with the Legion by Grandpappy’s moonshine. Not a drop of that to be found as they barreled toward—
“Ford!”
He snapped his head up. It was Nia; she was smiling.
“Close your eyes and take a breath, cowboy.”
His cheeks flushed hot and pink with embarrassment at being found out. But she was right. He didn’t have a hot second, so he took half that. Which gave him just enough of a realignment to kick the bad habit to the curb for the time being and slide the connections in place to secure him for the tumble of his life.
“We are going to be dying. We are going to be dying. We are going to be—”
“Sasha!” Ford yelled, cutting off the doc’s panic. “We’re going to be fine. No one’s going to die.”
He chanced another glance out the front—his bowels growing weak at what he saw rushing toward them with dizzying horror.
The finer details of land were now clearly visible, palm fronds from trees waving a greeting at them while little stick figures ran for their lives at the wall of water coming in hot and heave toward the houses and storefronts and high rises.
Ford wasn’t so sure he was swallowing his own medicine.
He shook his head. Didn’t matter. It was on him to bring his troops in safely.
Whether the damn ocean cooperated or not.
Lucy helped him sort his belts and get them snapped in place. He smiled and nodded in thanks.
Cinching the restraints with one final pull for good measure, Ford instructed, “Whatever you do, don’t open your mouth. Keep it shut tight, or you’re liable to bite your tongue or lip clear off when we land.”
“O Mama…” Sasha squeaked before launching into a panicked mumble of Muscovia.
“Hold your restraints at the chest and bring up your legs against the base of your seat.”
Nia said on a nervous breath, “You sound like you have been doing this a time or two.”
“Not on no hydrocraft barreling toward shore on the head of a tsunami. But twice with the Legion when riding in hot and heavy on a Queller to grab some Unfits when our airship went crashing to land.”
The Ukrainski pair stared at him with open, frightened mouths.
Ford waved a dismissive hand. “Never mind. Point is, I lived to tell about it, and so will you three.”
He glanced outside, widening his eyes.
Time to put that promise to the test.
Right about…
Sasha yelled out some Muscovia gibberish.
Now.
Riding high above the shore, the hydrocraft crested above the sand and trees and roads edging the ocean on toward the more worrisome land features.
Narrowly missing a twelve-story apartment complex, they cruised farther on toward a hillside rising in the distance that Ford hadn’t seen from farther out at sea.
If they were lucky, they’d make it just over the lip of the hill and slide to a stop without issue.
Except the lip started rising ever so slightly toward the heavens.
Which meant gravity and that dang wall of water were doing exactly what they didn’t need!
Shucky ducky.
A loud scrape echoed from underneath the hydrocraft and sent it bolting toward the sky. Sending Sasha into another yelling fit.
They were descending more quickly now, tumbling toward the ground as the tsunami weakened.
But that dang hillside kept growing closer—brittle bushes and naked trees that hadn’t seen a good bottle of water in a decade and grass that was a brush fire in the making coming too close for comfort.
Gonna be close….
Jesus, take the tsunami!
And then he did. Or so it seemed, the wall finally collapsing and the hydrocraft suddenly dropping back to Earth like that Devil’s Dare roller coaster ride.
Hitting something hard, the fish rocked from side to side. Something else slammed underneath that offered a clanging jolt, then another.
Sasha yelled. Nia told him to shut it. Lucy offered a mumbling prayer with eyes closed.
Ford thought he was gonna be sick, his constitution not like it had been when he was a pimply faced adolescent.
Another thud, then a dip that sent them spinning—around and around, then around again before the PSV flipped over once, then twice, then a third time before the tumbling force of it all gave one final dose of grace to right them on their belly.
Ford thought they would go one more round when they slid sideways to a stop, the water rushing past them and churning all around them, sloshing against the hydrocraft with muddy indifference something fierce so that he thought they’d capsize again.
But they held steady, and soon the tsunamic hell retreated somewhere behind them out of view.
“We made it,” Nia said with a sigh, as if disbelieving the truth of it.
Ford understood completely, sighing himself before throwing his head back with relief. He closed his eyes and took several stabilizing breaths, then lolled his head toward the front again.
The nose of the hydrocraft had dug into the hillside and a cluster of bushes bunched up in front, their pale brown leaves and spindly branches looking like a kid in a candy store with all that water. Nothing much to see out the front window coated brown, leaves and sticks and squished fish stuck and not going anywhere soon.
All that mattered was the truth of what the Ukrainski chick had said.
They’d made it. And in one piece.
He leaned forward and began fiddling with his straps. “We better get up top to check the damage.”
The other three released their buckles and climbed out of their straps.
“You best grab anything you wanna take for the road,” he commanded. “No telling what’s up top.” They did, the others scrambling for their backpacks.
Securing his own bag on his back and slinging a Neutralizer around to join it, Ford led the way to the red ladder that led to the hatch on the roof. Climbing up, he inputted the release code.
Gears ground from inside, the h
atch not budging.
Shucky ducky.
There was a warning buzz before the gears stopped trying.
But he wouldn’t give up. He punched in the release command again, praying to the Lord Almighty the Man Upstairs would throw ‘em a bone.
Gears worked their best, seeming to give it an extra dose of college try.
Then the lock popped, and the hatch eased open on automatic hinges.
Had to put his shoulders into it to help it long, but Ford managed to push the hatch open and push through to the outside, the breeze hot and smelling of acrid smoke and fish and sulfur.
Climbing out on top of the hydrocraft, he turned around to help Nia climb through.
When he faltered from the view.
His face fell, going white while his bowels went watery, leaving Nia to her own devices.
Putting a hand to his forehead, he mumbled, “What the hot Hades?”
Bearing that wicked Scythe staff thing of hers, Nia pushed her way to the surface and helped Sasha out, then Lucy, along with a jumbled mess of backpacks, not paying attention to what Ford was mumbling about.
Until she did.
Catching sight of what he saw.
Or, in their case, what he didn’t see.
“Where’d the ocean go?” he said on a breathless mutter.
Lots of questions that day. Very, very few answers.
It had completely receded after dumping them on land. Not uncommon for tsunami waves to peel back into the ocean, their original power growing from earthquakes and oceanic volcanoes and then receding after spending itself on pushing and spitting and thrusting umpteen gallons of water out on shore.
But this…
It was as if the ocean had disappeared.
Completely.
“Look!” Sasha yelled with a frantic gesture.
Ford refocused his gaze forward, squinting and following his arm.
The horizon.
Where a massive plume of smoke bloomed, and fiery light glowed hot.
“‘The second angel blew his trumpet,’” Ford muttered, channeling his meemaw’s end-times crazy talk that didn’t sound so crazy anymore, “‘and something like a great mountain, burning with fire, was thrown into the sea…’”
The worm had turned.
For a third time in as many days…
Chapter 18
Byzantium, Arabia-Persia.