The Tide (Tide Series Book 1)

by Melchiorri, Anthony J

  “What’s it look like?” Miguel asked, yelling over the rolling thunder and crashing waves.

  “Let’s find out.” Dom lifted a pair of night-vision binoculars to his biosafety suit’s face shield. He aimed the binos over the menagerie of beams and lattices. “Nothing but metal and shadows.”

  Another crack of lightning activated the binoculars’ automatic safety shutoff feature, and Dom’s vision went black for a moment. If there was something on that rig, they wouldn’t find out until they were on it.

  The Zodiac motored toward one of the massive legs of the platform. They closed in on a ladder extending up to the platform. Hector struggled with the till against the relentless waves. Jenna and Glenn threw heavy cords around the rungs of the ladder and moored the Zodiac in place.

  At another ladder a couple dozen yards away, Bravo team followed suit. The team’s leader jumped to the ladder and scaled it like a monkey with a rifle strapped across her back. Near the top, she paused and waved at Dom.

  “Hold up, Renee,” Dom said over his comm link. “I know you all don’t like to hear it, but we’ve got to play this by ear.” He stretched out toward the ladder. A rising wave pushed the Zodiac higher, and he braced himself on a rung. “But what I said on the ship still applies. If they’re aggressive, take them out.”

  He began climbing. The rest of his team padded after him. When he reached the top, he paused and looked toward Renee. She already had one hand on the steel diamond-plate surface of the platform and appeared ready to leap up.

  “As soon as we hit the deck, stay low and watch for contacts,” Dom said. “Renee, you’ll take Bravo team down to the bottom decks first. Alpha, stay on me to sweep the top decks.”

  A flurry of affirmatives echoed through his comm link.

  “On my signal.”

  Renee flexed her arm. Her legs were coiled and appeared ready to propel her up.

  “Now!”

  Dom heaved with all his might and rolled across the metal surface. He swung his gun in front of him and dove behind the legs of a massive crane. Miguel followed after and dashed forward to a wide, cylindrical tank. Hector and Jenna pressed themselves against the tank next to Miguel. Glenn dashed toward one of the vacant crane legs with Scott at his heels.

  “Bravo, you got contacts?” Dom asked. He stole a peek around the legs and scanned the platform. He glanced toward Renee.

  “Negative,” she reported. She’d already set up position behind the yellow tube-shaped drilling drawworks near the derrick’s base. Two more of her squad mates joined her near a steel wall stretching around the derrick’s feet. Another sprinted toward them with a gun cradled in his arms.

  The last Hunter scurried over the lip of the platform’s deck but caught his foot on the final rung of the ladder. He spilled forward. His gun clattered across the metal flooring.

  For a moment, everyone froze.

  Then an ear-shattering howl erupted from near Renee’s position. A shape hurtled out of the darkness. It careened straight toward the fallen Hunter as he scrambled to his feet. Dom shouldered his rifle and fired at the racing target. Each recoil sent a shudder through his body.

  The creature ran faster as its prey leveled his gun. The Hunter fired, but nothing slowed the beast. It crashed into the man, and both bodies cartwheeled off the platform. They flew out over the hungry ocean. A scream echoed over Dom’s comm link, followed by momentary silence. His blood ran cold.

  “Who the hell was that?” he asked as his stomach twisted in a painful knot.

  “Brett,” Renee’s voice echoed back. She stood from her position and appeared ready to dash over the edge after him.

  “Brett, do you copy?” Dom asked over the comm link. No answer. “Brett, do you copy?” Dom hoped the man had hit the water and his comm link had been knocked from his ear. Maybe Brett swam for safety back to the Zodiac...but the sinking feeling in his gut told him otherwise as he played his rifle across the deck, looking for more contacts.

  The deck of the rig was eerily silent. No other screeches or screams sounded, other than the howling wind through the metal trusses. Goddammit, Dom thought. He didn’t have time to give in to the despair that was threatening to take him over now. If more of whatever had attacked Brett were lurking around, they needed to find out what the hell they were dealing with and how to stop it.

  “Radio discipline, Hunters,” Dom said in a low voice. He shot a couple hand signals to his team, and they prowled forward. Renee’s team moved in parallel with his. Belabored breaths came over the comm link in rasps. The fear simmering in each of his Hunters was almost palpable.

  Then the clatter of something hard against metal rang out behind him, and he swiveled to face it.

  A beast appeared at the edge of the platform, illuminated by another arc of white lightning. The oil rig lit up as if it were day, and the features of the monster appeared more grotesque than Dom could ever have imagined. Its ribcage seemed overgrown, jutting out from its chest like a veritable suit of bony armor. Its shoulder blades, yellow and crooked, protruded from its back like the stumps of a fallen angel’s freshly shorn-off wings. The creature’s bones pierced through the ends of its fingers as if the skeleton beneath didn’t know when to stop growing. Bony flanges traced its brow, but its eyes, wet and gleaming, stared back at him with a frightening intelligence. Its fleshy tongue flicked between its gnashing teeth as its cracked lips peeled back. It howled at Dom. Water sluiced from the thing as it raced forward. It brought one claw back and appeared ready to impale Dom with its skeletal talons.

  Then Dom noticed something as the beast yelled again and spittle flew from its mouth. Crimson stains colored its teeth. Blood. Dom’s hope of finding Brett alive disappeared like a grain of sand tossed into the ocean.

  This was the beast that had fallen with Brett, and now it was hungry for its second course.

  -8-

  Fueled by anger, Dom sprinted at the beast. Three quick squeezes of his trigger sent bullets at Brett’s killer. Each of the rounds thumped into its body, but the creature didn’t slow.

  “What the fuck?” Miguel said. He, too, fired off a salvo at the creature. But still the beast ran full tilt at Dom.

  Cleaver-like skeletal plates cut through its skin at the joints, scraping against the creature’s body as it let out another howl and leapt.

  A smatter of bullets left Dom’s rifle, peppering the beast. Dom was close enough now to see the rounds splinter and fracture the bone-like body armor. Yet not a single bullet appeared to penetrate the growths. The beast flew through the air, raking its claws before him. Dom brought his rifle up to aim for its face, but the beast caught his gun and sent the SCAR clattering across the deck.

  Dom sidestepped the monster and barely dodged its talons. He didn’t want the thing to tear a single hole in his suit, lest he catch whatever vile contaminants this rig might be harboring. The creature bounded at him again—upright, like a human.

  Like a human. Dom juked to the left and avoided the second charge. At the same time he slipped a knife from the sheath holstered around his biohazard suit. He was too close to the beast for his Hunters to take a clean shot. He tried to back away, but it followed his moves.

  The creature jumped. This time Dom couldn’t dodge the attack. He caught one of the creature’s wrists with his free hand and twisted his head to avoid the beast’s other claw as he fell backward under its weight. The skeletal growths covered the thing, marring its flesh, and only its face remained uncovered by the strange mutations. This might be Dom’s one chance. Spittle flew from the creature’s chomping teeth as it tried to bite him. Dom plunged his knife into one of its red eyes and twisted it deeper. The thing shrieked but kept swinging its free hand.

  Just...a bit...more. Dom gritted his teeth as he pushed the blade farther. The beast at last stopped its struggling and fell. Dom rolled out from underneath it as it slumped. He kicked the thing over to look at its face.

  A hand clamped on Dom’s shoulder, and he spun, bringi
ng his knife back up.

  Miguel held his hands up, his rifle slung over his chest. “Whoa, it’s just me. Sorry, I couldn’t...”

  “Even if you could’ve taken a shot, it wouldn’t have done shit.” Dom kicked the creature over. “Look at this nasty fucker. Covered in bones or some shit,” he said between breaths. “The only weak spot is the damn thing’s face.”

  Miguel stared at the face. “Is it just me, or does this thing look almost human?”

  “From the looks of it, it might’ve been human once,” Dom said.

  “What the fuck kind of twisted fun house is this?” Miguel asked.

  Dom let the question linger as he stared at the humanoid creature that might’ve killed Brett. Anger built in him like an over-pressurized boiler fit to explode. He wanted to lash out and stomp the monster’s face in. He gave it a final kick before marching back to the center of the rig’s helipad and signaled for his squad and Renee’s to join him. The ten Hunters stood before him, clad in their biosafety suits with their weapons clutched and ready. Each shared a similar pained expression behind their face shields. The twisted knot in his stomach was still there, but he couldn’t crumple in defeat now. They hadn’t even probed the depths of the oil platform, and if Brett had indeed made the ultimate sacrifice, Dom wouldn’t let it be in vain.

  “Alpha, Bravo, anyone see more contacts?” Dom asked.

  “Negative,” came the replies.

  He pointed at Hector Ko and Spencer Barrett. “You two head back down to the Zodiacs. If there’s a chance we can recover Brett, I want you to do whatever you can. We don’t leave a man, dead or alive, behind. Understood?”

  The former SEALs nodded. If anyone could deal with the crashing tides and the murky waves, it was those two.

  “Don’t do anything stupid, though. I don’t want you swimming around, but if you can take a Zodiac to recover Brett, do it.”

  Hector saluted. “You got it.” They scrambled to the edge of the rig and descended the ladder.

  “That goes for everyone,” Dom said. “I want to be in and out as fast as we can. Plan still remains. Alpha team, on me. Bravo, on Renee with the lower decks. We meet in the middle, come hell or high water.” And on this rig, Dom wasn’t sure which would come first as the Hunters nodded. “One last thing before we split up. These creatures might’ve been human once, they might not. Whatever’s going on, they don’t seem to have any regard for human life. If you run into hostiles, protect yourself first and ask questions later.”

  “Aye aye, Captain,” the Hunters responded.

  “When it comes to killing these things, aim for their goddamned faces. These pieces of shit—at least the one that nearly killed me—are covered in some kind of armor.” He hoisted his rifle in front of him to emphasize his point. “So go for headshots, and shoot to kill.” He made a cleaving motion with his arm, directing Renee’s squad toward the entrance to the rig. “Bravo team, go!”

  “Roger that, Captain,” Renee replied. She jogged to the entrance. Her squad followed and disappeared down the stairs beyond the door.

  Dom led Jenna, Scott, Glenn, and Miguel next. He hesitated at the stairs. His NVGs provided a glimpse at what the shadows held, but he wondered if they’d be enough. “Huntress, this is Alpha One. Do you read?”

  “Copy,” Chao responded. “We’ve still got live feed from your cams, too.”

  “Great.” Dom started down the stairs into the first corridor with Alpha in tow. “Is there any way we can turn the lights back on in this hellhole?”

  “Let me see what I can find.”

  The comm link went silent as Dom started forward through the top deck corridor. He played his gun across the passage, and his Hunters probed each room as they went. Behind each door, they found cots, clothing, and toiletries. It appeared they were in the crew quarters.

  Miguel emerged from one of the rooms and held up a small notebook. “Looks like a damn diary or something.”

  “Take it with,” Dom said.

  Miguel stowed the notebook in the bag slung across his back. They continued searching the room, stowing away anything that might help Lauren or Chao. Halfway through, Dom’s earpiece flared to life.

  “Alpha, Bravo, this is Chao, do you read? Over.”

  “Copy, Alpha team here,” Dom said.

  “There should be two generators. Based on the facility’s specs, you’re looking for two 6.25 MVA gas turbine generators. Should be on the bottom deck where Bravo is.”

  “Bravo team, did you catch all that?” Dom asked.

  “Roger,” Renee replied.

  Dom treaded down the hallway and slowed to a halt. Something had caught his eye. He signaled for Miguel to watch his back as he approached what looked like a torn garbage bag. He stifled a gag when he realized what it was.

  In the middle of the floor, a body lay torn to pieces. Its limbs were scattered and its bones cracked open. A dark pool of blood encircled the corpse like a shadow. Dom knelt by the remains and examined what appeared to be half a femur. Most of the flesh and organs were simply gone. The remnants of flesh that did remain were starting to decay.

  Dom peered inside the broken femur. Its marrow had been sucked dry. Fragments of the ribcage lay next to a SCAR. This must have been one of the mercs Meredith had sent before requesting the Hunters.

  Miguel stepped forward and took a long eyeful of the remains. “Please tell me you don’t want us to take that back as evidence.”

  ***

  Renee planted her boots, shouldered her rifle, and scanned the shadows. In her mind’s eye, she saw Brett falling off the rig again and again. She wished she had acted sooner and intercepted the wailing beast. But regret wouldn’t keep her alive, and she forced the lingering thoughts from her mind. She knew she’d have to deal with the psychological repercussions later. Right now, she was in charge of three other lives, and she needed to be ready if Dom called for help.

  “Which way?” Andris asked in a whisper.

  A four-way intersection beckoned for her to make a choice and gamble on what may lay in wait for them. She nodded toward the left. “Let’s take this deck counterclockwise.”

  With no doors leading off the passage, they sprinted along it. They were careful to keep their footsteps light and avoid unwarranted attention. A steel door greeted them at the end. Renee twisted the door handle and spilled inside. She played her rifle across the boxes and crates towering above her, but nothing jumped out. No terrible wails or howls echoed against the walls.

  Terrence Connor, a decorated Ranger, pried off the lid of one of the crates. “Canned goods.” He pulled one out. “Green beans.” He tossed it to the floor.

  “Check them all just in case,” Renee commanded. The group tore through the contents of the cargo. Nothing.

  They strode out into the hall and ran toward the intersection again. Renee led her team to another heavy steel door and leaned onto its handle. It didn’t budge. She pressed all her weight down on it, her muscles straining, each fiber exerting all the force she’d trained through her years of gymnastic conditioning and weight lifting. It didn’t give.

  She waved to Terrence, and he understood immediately. She hated asking the man do the heavy lifting, but his weight might provide more leverage and get the damn door open. Terrence threw all his bulk into the door handle and shoved in with his shoulder. The door stood solid and unmoving. A small wave of relief washed through her when he couldn’t break through either. Her pride had been saved.

  “My turn.” Andris Jansons stepped forward. He didn’t wait for an answer before molding a small plastic explosive around the lip of the door near the handle.

  “Keep it small as possible,” Renee said.

  “Just enough to open the door. No more, no less.” Andris finished placing the explosive and signaled for them to back up. “I learned explosives in Latvia, long before I became a Legionnaire with the French. They don’t know explosives like I do. You can trust me.” He held up three fingers then counted down. Three, tw
o, one.

  The charge detonated with a low bang. A trail of smoke and dust poured from the edge of the door, and it swung open. An iron rod fell out and clanked on the floor.

  Renee waved her hand to clear the smoke from her vision and crept forward, her gun shouldered. As the smoke dissipated, something became visible to her. A huddled shape wearing a set of blue coveralls lay across the floor past the metal toilets, showerheads, and sinks. She kept her gun trained on it, but it wasn’t moving. She crept closer and realized the shape had a shaggy head of dark hair. It was a body—a human body.

  Renee raced forward.

  “Careful!” Andris called.

  There was no sign of bony protuberances on this man. His coveralls were torn and stained but otherwise didn’t look to be affected by whatever had turned the person they’d scuffled with earlier and the one in Meredith’s video into those monsters. Renee knelt by the man. Sweat matted down his black hair and dripped over his light skin. She pressed her fingers against his neck. He didn’t roar to life, nor did he flail at her like the creature above deck. A weak, almost imperceptible force pushed back against her finger. A pulse.

  He was alive.

  ***

  Dom knelt by the picked-over corpse. The flesh was ragged and already growing rank. He plucked at the black cloth hanging from the remains. Gnaw marks scarred the bones.

  Miguel took a knee beside him as the others stood guard. “What do you make of this, Chief?”

  “Probably one of Webb’s other contractors.” Dom rubbed a piece of fabric between his gloved fingers. “Looks like special ops getup.” He motioned to the SCAR belonging to what little was left of this man or woman along with a crushed set of NVGs.

  “Those creatures did this to him?” Scott asked. “Holy shit.”

  Glenn glanced down the corridor. “He didn’t do it to himself.”

  “Enough. Let’s move.” Dom stood and pointed at a fragment of the man’s shattered ribs. “Take that with you.”

  “Serious?” Miguel asked.

  “Serious as this place is dark. If we’re looking for bioweapons, we might find something there.”