A second Lycanthrope jumped over the water onto the forward deck. Nicole swiped at it with her pole, and the beast ducked. The metal passed harmlessly over its shaggy head. It roared, leaned forward until it was on all fours. She swung again, this time making contact with the creature’s slavering jaws, knocking out several fangs. The teeth skittered across the deck, and the beast turned back to her, blood and drool dripping from its mouth.
She used the pole to shove it backwards to the edge of the deck, and it windmilled its arms for a moment before falling into the river. It sank in an explosion of bubbles.
Burns was battling with the monster near the cabin. He poked at the beast with the sharp end of the metal subway pole, opening the creature’s tough hide in several places, but it kept coming at him, swiping at him with its black talons. Meanwhile, John crept into the cabin beside Michael.
Another beast leaped, landed on top of the roof of the cabin with a thud that startled Michael. He grabbed the gearshift and moved it into the next position.
The Marion M lurched to a sudden stop by the pier before creeping away slowly from the long wooden structure. The creature perched atop the cabin fell from its position and tumbled to the deck on the other side of Burns.
Another monster hopped onto the boat. And another. And another until there were six of the beasts on deck.
The little freighter chugged slowly away from the pier, belching black smoke from the pipe above the cabin.
Burns took advantage of the sudden braking of the boat and shoved his first nemesis into the river between the pier and the back of the boat where it was crushed between a pile and the left side of the Marion M. He spun and faced the one that had fallen from the top of the cabin. It was trying to stand, its back right leg obviously broken. A white bone stuck from its dark fur. Burns brought his pole down on the exposed bone, shattering it. The beast screeched in agony, and clutched at the crippled leg. This gave the general enough time to swing the pole upwards and bring it down full force on the Lycanthrope’s skull. One of its eyes shot out from the socket. The top of its head flattened, and there was a terrible crunching sound. Bits of brain and blood squirted from the thing’s ears. Heaving once, it stumbled drunkenly to its side on the deck, still and dead.
Burns looked to the prow where Nicole was swinging her pole like a kendo stick and bashing one Lycanthrope while another stalked up behind her. A long rope lay across the deck, and the creature had its feet on the cord.
Sandy had slumped down next to the cabin, her own makeshift weapons forgotten, but she noticed the rope just as the creature behind her girlfriend stepped upon it. Grabbing the end, she yanked the rope as hard as she could, and it slid out from under the beast’s bare foot, giving it the rope burn equivalent of a hot foot. The creature howled, raised its injured foot, and hopped comically on the other. Burns took advantage of the thing’s imbalance and used his pole like a Louisville Slugger, smashing the creature upside the head. It fell over, tumbled to the edge of the deck where it grabbed a wooden rope-hold and stopped its somersault into the river.
One creature rushed toward the window of the cabin, going for Michael and John. The homeless man was trying to steer the boat out of the area of the pier and didn’t see the beast until it burst through the window, its long arms reaching for his face. He stepped back, pulling on the gear, and the boat shuddered as it began to move faster. The creature was tossed forward, landing halfway through the shattered window. A long, sharp piece of glass went through the Lycanthrope’s belly, securing it in place. It still swiped at the air as Michael took another step back. He felt the wall of the cabin behind him. He wanted to steer the boat, but the creature was lying right above the controls, impaled on the glass from the window. Even though it was bleeding profusely, it still tried to get at him.
Then Michael’s back hit the wall, and he felt something beside him. Turning his head, he saw a fire extinguisher and a fire axe encased in a glass panel on the wall. The glass had words written upon it – “Break in case of emergency.”
“Oh, hell yeah,” Michael said, smashing the safety glass with his elbow and retrieving the axe.
His first assault on the beast removed the thing’s right arm. His second chopped off the creature’s left arm. Blood gushed over the controls from the monster’s severed limbs, and it writhed like a fish on a hook, trying to extricate itself from the glass.
Michael’s third swipe decapitated the creature, and it ceased its struggles. He moved back to the controls, maneuvering the boat into deeper water away from the pier.
John had moved to the back corner of the cabin, his eyes wide at the savagery of Michael’s assault on the beast. His shoulder and leg were hurting him, throbbing with pain, and he was suddenly awash with exhaustion. He found himself an unwilling audience, unable to participate in the defense of the Marion M. He could only watch and grow weaker by the moment.
Nicole had shoved one creature into the water, watching in fascination as it tried to swim but sank under the weight of its upper torso.
Beside her, the monster that Sandy had tripped with the rope was clamoring back to its feet on the front of the deck, and Nicole went for it.
As the Marion M chugged away from the pier, several of the beasts made attempts at leaping onto it, but they all splashed into the river, dropping beneath the surface in a flurry of claws and snapping jaws.
Michael took the bloody controller in his hand and guided the boat out to the middle of the river. He looked back and saw the city he loved, the city where he’d lived his entire life. It was on fire, smoke belching into the sky. The skyline was unrecognizable. So many buildings had crumbled or been knocked down by other fallen structures that it rendered the whole thing foreign to him. From the flames of the city, hundreds, maybe thousands of the Lycanthropes were fleeing toward the outer fringes. Many were on the pier, crawling over each other in an attempt to get someplace safe, away from the fire that terrified them into some antediluvian state of vestigial terror.
Burns swung his pole at the Lycanthrope near him, missed, and the creature batted the weapon away. He lost his grip, and the pole flew out into the water. The creature turned its massive head and seemed to grin at him.
Michael saw this, as did Sandy from where she sat exhausted on the deck in front of the cabin.
Nicole hit the beast she was fighting with the pole. It lashed out at her, missed, and sank its claws in the deck.
Beneath it, something awoke at the intrusion of the claws.
Michael grabbed the axe and tossed it out the window at Sandy, who watched as it fell next to her. He shouted, “Help General Burns!”
Nicole kicked the creature in the side as it tried to free itself from the deck. It pulled hard, leaving three of its claws in the wood of the deck. It raised its bloody paw and swiped at her. She backed away, praying none of the drops of blood from its torn claws touched her. As soon as it finished its attack, she beaned it with the metal pole, and it stumbled backwards a few steps.
Sandy reached for the axe as Burns, weaponless and facing a seven-foot-tall roaring beast, kicked a roundhouse into the monster’s chest. It fell back a few steps, then rushed him. He ducked backwards under the creature’s long claws, felt the breeze as they swept by his face. He arched too far and fell onto his back, legs bent under him.
Nicole pounded her adversary several times in the chest. It grabbed the end of her pole and twisted it, trying to wrestle it from her grasp.
Michael drove the freighter farther into the center of the river. The water was choppy, but he kept his grip on the shifter. It felt good under his hand, like he was made for driving this little boat.
“We’re actually doing this, buddy,” he called to John behind him. “It’s gonna work.”
John thought he heard something beneath him – a scratching, rustling noise like dead leaves rubbing against each other. Glancing down, he noticed a trapdoor leading down into the hold of the Marion M. The door was opened, the lid hanging by a
rusted hinge.
When he saw what was making the noise, he screamed and slammed the lid to the trapdoor shut. It groaned on its hinges, but it closed, and he sat on top of it.
“Michael,” he said.
“I’m busy.”
“You’d better look at this.”
He popped open the lid for a moment, just long enough for the homeless man to see into the hold.
Meanwhile, Sandy had grabbed the axe and shouted, “Burns! Over here!”
Burns stepped aside as the Lycanthrope rushed at him, stretching out a foot and tripping the beast. It tumbled end over end, heading for Sandy. She saw the creature unroll itself and glare at her with its awful yellow eyes. With a scream, she raised the axe over her head, using both hands on the heavy instrument.
The monster growled and ran at her.
Nicole gave a final push, sending the monster she was fighting into the river. It sank out of sight, and she turned, ready to take on the last Lycan left on deck.
“Burns!” Michael yelled. John remained sitting on top of the trapdoor, keeping it closed with the weight of his body, but he was beginning to feel something push back.
The monster on deck loped toward Sandy as she brought the axe down with all her strength. It caught the creature between the eyes, splitting its skull down the center until two halves were dangling at the neck. Its brain fell from its smashed cavity and plopped to the deck. The axe remained embedded in the beast’s bifurcated head. Sandy let go and fell backwards away from the monster. She started screaming uncontrollably, shaking and watching as the Lycanthrope dropped dead to the wooden planks.
“Burns!” Michael shouted even more emphatically.
The general made certain there were no more living Lycanthropes on deck. He quickly removed the axe from the last one’s head and rolled it into the water. He moved to the cabin.
Nicole hurried over to Sandy, who was still shaking. Her teeth were chattering, and Nicole thought she might have gone into shock. She rubbed Sandy’s arms, trying to warm her up. She could feel the gooseflesh beneath her fingers.
“You’ll be all right,” she said to the nonresponsive woman next to her. “We’re getting away right now. Everything’s gonna be all right.”
Remembering the flare gun, Nicole withdrew it from her belt and fired it into the dark night sky. The deck lit up in a burst of fiery red light. Nicole knew if Tommy Hemmer didn’t see the flare and follow its signal to their location, he would never find them.
“What is it?” Burns asked Michael as he entered the cabin.
“Anyone look in the hold before we took this rust bucket?”
“Of course not. Who had time?”
“John, show the general,” Michael said, and the reporter moved off of the trap door.
A humongous rat poked it head out and gave a squeak when John resumed his prone position. The rat’s head was crushed, and it fell back into the hold.
“Holy shit,” Burns said.
“There are hundreds, maybe thousands of these buggers down there. I looked and they were crawling all over each other, eating things. Looked like there were skeletons down there, stripped off all their flesh,” John explained.
“Then I suggest you stay on top of that trapdoor,” Burns said. “You think they can get out?”
As if in answer, several of the giant rats started scratching at the hidden door. The men heard them gnawing at the wood that separated them from their prey. Their incessant screeching grew louder, more frenzied.
Burns raised his eyes to the sky and said, “Hemmer, where in the hell are you?”
Chapter 52
12:06 a.m.
The Marion M rested in the center of the East River, bobbing a little on the choppy water. The moon was only a small orange slice, but it cast a ghostly blue light upon the scene. Behind the river, New York City burned.
On the boat, Nicole cradled her girlfriend in her arms, stroking her blond hair and muttering soft words to her. Sandy had stopped shaking, and that was a good sign, but she remained quiet, silently shedding tears.
The sounds from the hold weren’t helping anyone’s nerves, either. The rats were gnawing fervently. When sitting on the deck, as Nicole and Sandy were doing, they could feel the vibrations of the mutant rats’ teeth chewing at the ceiling of their wooden prison.
John stayed put, anchoring the trapdoor shut. Michael steered the boat, keeping one foot on the door to the hold, figuring the extra weight could only help.
Taylor Burns made a tour of the decks. He found one more hinged door, larger than the one in the cabin, but it was locked with several metal padlocks and a rusted chain. He tested it, and the door opened a crack, just enough for a few of the rats to shove their snouts out. He quickly stomped it back down into place, but the mutants resumed their vigilant chewing.
Burns scanned the sky again, wondering aloud, “Where is that helicopter?”
“You don’t think he was shot down, do you?” Nicole asked. The glow from her flare had evaporated, leaving them in an enveloping darkness.
“I hope not. These little bastards are gonna chew through the hull at any time and we’ll either fill with water and capsize, or they’ll find their way on deck and eat us all. I don’t know which is worse.”
“We could swim to Brooklyn,” Nicole suggested. “It isn’t that far.”
“In these waters? We’d be lucky not to drown in two minutes.”
Sandy shivered once, looked up at Nicole. Her eyes were wide with trepidation, and she asked, “What... What’s happening?”
Nicole placed a hand on either side of her face and gave it a close look. She asked, “Are you back with us, honey? You really back?”
“Where’d I go? Last thing I remember I hit that werewolf with an axe. Is it… is it dead?”
“Oh, thank God, thank God,” Nicole cried, kissing her girlfriend repeatedly. “I thought we might have lost you, but you’re okay. You are okay, aren’t you?”
“I think so,” Sandy said, standing. “What’s that noise?”
“Don’t freak out,” Nicole warned her. “But the hull is full of rats.”
“Aw man, it just keeps getting better and better. Where’s the helicopter?”
“I don’t know,” Nicole admitted.
“He’s coming,” Burns said. “Don’t worry.”
“Uh, guys, you’d better get in here,” John cried from the cabin.
The three hurried to the cabin door, immediately spotting the splinters on the floor. The rats were gnawing their way through the wood of the deck. Five tiny holes had appeared in the planks under their feet, through which they saw sharp teeth tugging away bits of wood, widening the holes. Sharp claws raked at the edges, dragging down even more splinters.
“Oh God, look,” Sandy moaned, pointing toward the deck.
More holes were appearing all over the deck of the Marion M as more of the mutants scrambled to get out of the hold.
Suddenly, there was a cracking noise, and the boat gave a jolt. Sandy and Nicole fell to the ground. Letting loose of her pole, Nicole watched as it rolled across the deck, startling several of the creatures, who ducked their pointed heads back into the hold.
Taylor Burns was thrown off balance, and he tumbled forward. The cell phone he was holding in his hand shattered when it struck the control panel of the boat. He watched in pained self-loathing as the plastic pieces dropped to the floor near one of the rat holes.
“Shit, there went our only way to contact Tommy.”
“Wait a minute, there he is,” Nicole pointed, helping Sandy off the deck. She gestured toward the pier, a couple of hundred yards upriver. “He’s looking for us on the dock.”
“We need to get his attention,” Burns said.
“Here.” Michael handed him an object in the dark. “Flare gun from the emergency kit.”
“How long have you been sitting on that?” Nicole asked, flustered.
Michael shrugged. “Just till it was needed.”
Burns took two steps and the boat tilted, listing to the left. He caught himself on the cabin door and held on. Sandy fell again, losing her grip on Nicole. John shoved his fingers into a knot hole so he wouldn’t roll off the unsecured door.
Beneath their feet, the sound of scrambling, scratching rats increased twofold.
There was also a sound like water flooding into the hold.
“Damn it, they’ve chewed through the hull,” Burns shouted as he pointed the flare gun toward the sky. “Stupid bastards. Now the boat’s sinking.”
One of the mutant rats emerged from a gap that was now wide enough to admit it to the deck. Behind it, another poked its head out before crawling upwards. Then another…
Burns fired the flare gun, and the dark sky lit up. It bathed the Marion M in a hellish red glow.
In the cabin, two holes had expanded enough to let out one rat at a time. They started streaming through, sniffing the air, getting their bearings before centering their attention on the humans.
Michael grabbed John and hauled him out of the cabin as the boat continued to tilt sideways. He heard the rush of water pouring into the hold through the numerous holes in the deck. They whistled like pipes.
“Quick,” Burns said. “Everyone on top of the cabin.”
He jumped up and extended his hand to Sandy. Hauling her up to the safety of the square-shaped cabin, he glanced up at the sky. The flare was falling to the water where it sizzled as it was extinguished.
He helped Nicole to the roof of the cabin, when he reached for Michael’s hand; he was surprised to find the homeless man had placed the axe in it. He handed the tool to Nicole and reached out again. Michael gave him the last of their long poles from the subway, and Sandy snatched it.
“Come on,” Burns shouted down at him.
Michael turned to John, who looked like he’d gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. Then, he looked behind him, and he saw the rivers of brown and gray rats streaming out of the dozens of holes in the deck. They were in a panic, but many made a beeline for the mole man, gnashing their teeth, their eyes rolling with an overpowering lust for flesh.
Primeval (Werewolf Apocalypse Book 2) Page 30