by Tobias Wade
22
“Get off me! I told you I’m not going!” the woman shouts. The man clutches at her wrist, but she wrenches free to storm back toward the sidewalk outside the airport.
“You need help, Kathleen!” The man is hot on her heels. “There isn’t any specialist here who—”
“I don’t need a doctor. I need you to leave me the hell alone.”
It’s impossible to miss the scene when exiting the baggage claim. Jordan and Dantes exchanges glances. Jordan shrugs his broad shoulders.
“Should we help her?” Dantes asks.
“Couple’s quarrel, best let them sort it out on their own,” Jordan says. “’Course you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, kid?”
Jessica glides between them, not speaking a word or looking at either. Dantes makes a conscious effort not to pay her a glance. Jordan chuckles to himself.
“You did right in my book,” Jordan says, hoisting his duffel onto his back. “Should have woken me up first, but a dead demon’s better than a live one no matter who it was or how it happened. She’ll understand that someday.”
“It was her mother.” Dantes sighs.
“Was,” Jordan is quick to interject. “Before any of this started. That wasn’t her mother that you shot down though. It’s good to know they can die, at least. Even if they are stubborn about it.”
“I wouldn’t forgive me if I were her.”
“Why are we even bringing her along then?” Jordan asks. “We got where we need to be, that was the deal. If she’s not part of the team, then let’s finish this on our own.”
“We can’t, we still need her—”
“You still need her. Makes you feel like a man having a pretty little thing to protect, is that it?”
Dantes doesn’t respond, quickening his pace to keep up with Jessica.
“Or is it because she’s the captain’s daughter? You feel guilty because of Ender, is that it? Or something else?”
The screech gives Dantes an excuse not to respond. The ‘couple’s quarrel’ had attracted the attention of an airport security officer. The man had both hands around Kathleen’s arm and is physically dragging her toward the airport. She kicks and spits at him, holding her ground despite his considerable size advantage. Jessica is heading straight toward them.
“I’m not crazy, Erik!” Kathleen’s voice is shrill with exasperation. “There’s a whole city under there. I know what I saw!”
“What you think, you saw!” the condescending voice snaps back. “You were down there way too long, Kathleen. You ran out of oxygen and it affected your brain. It’s not your fault—”
“I need to ask you both to vacate the premises,” the security guard says, his hand resting on his radio.
“We can’t. We have a flight to catch—” Erik says irritably.
“You aren’t going inside until you sort out whatever this is,” the officer says. “Keep it civil, I’ve got my eye on you.” And he’s gone, wading his way back onto the sidewalk.
“Excuse me, I couldn’t help overhearing and wondering what you saw.” Jessica has parked her chair right beside them, hands folded peacefully in her lap.
The arguing pair break off their mistrustful glare to look at the newcomer.
“I’m sure you’re trying to help, but seriously, just stay out of this,” Erik snaps.
Kathleen and Jessica are looking at each other though, completely ignoring him.
“Something about a city?” Jessica urges. “Or maybe it could have been a temple?” She tries to keep her voice casual, but her eyes bright with eagerness.
“Yes! I even thought that some of the buildings almost looked like cathedrals.” Kathleen’s smile is infectious, and Jessica’s face lights up in response. “But how did you know?”
“I was born near here,” Jessica says. Erik shifts uncomfortably as Jessica redirects her disarming smile on him. “If we’re thinking about the same thing, then she’s telling you the truth. Come tell me all about it, won’t you? We may be able to help each other.”
Dantes and Jordan have stopped a few feet back.
“You weren’t going to get involved, remember?” Dantes says, his grin as much in response to seeing Jessica smile again as it was to discover the lead. “I told you we needed her.”
Jordan scowls. Jessica glances back at the pair of them, meeting Dantes' eyes for a moment, her own smile vanishing as she does. She’s swift to turn back to Kathleen, adding: “You’ll have to show us how to get there though. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here last.”
“But our flight—” Erik protests meekly.
“Read about Flight 477 yet? You aren’t going to want to be in the air when all hell breaks loose anyway,” Jessica says. “Trust me on that.”
Their guide Aaron hasn’t gone far, and with a phone call from Kathleen he was quick to pick them up again. On the shared drive Kathleen and Eric explain their venture, their stories diverging at the point where Kathleen decided to dive deeper.
“Someone who prides themselves on being a student of reality should know better,” Eric says in that know-it-all voice of his. “It’s physically impossible for anyone to ‘wade through lava’ bubbling out of vents at a minimum of 700 degrees Celsius. Not to mention the pressure, and his lack of diving gear, and—”
“What’s your explanation for him disappearing then?” Kathleen interrupts.
Eric shrugs helplessly. “He was a crazy old man babbling about spirits. He went chasing them and he drowned. End of story.” The scientist expels the remainder of air from his lungs in a brief, exasperated puff. He looks back and forth between Jordan, Dantes, and Jessica, his consternation evident from their unconvinced faces. “Who did you say you were again?”
“Demon hunters,” Jessica replies without hesitation, her voice flat and heavy.
“Ah, right. Of course you are.” Eric scratches his head and sighs.
Less than an hour later, Aaron drops all five of them off at a diving shop near the ocean. The salt winds have stripped the red paint from the deck, wearing into the wood and engraven into the hard-lined faces of the people who live here. Kathleen arranges for the same boat to be commissioned once more, and Jessica watches in silence while Kathleen orders four sets of scuba gear.
“Isn’t Eric coming?” Jessica asks, her mouth suddenly dry.
“I might as well,” Eric replies. “You’ll need someone with their head on straight to tell you what’s really going on.”
“Make it five then—”
“Four.” Dantes grips the handles of her chair and steers her away from the desk.
“I’m more a part of this than any of you, and I’m going down there,” she insists, turning to swat his hands away. Even that motion is enough to radiate a sharp pain through her lower back. She’s quick to face forward again, hoping Dantes doesn’t notice her grimace. He probably did. She’d seen his concerned mother-hen face.
“Can you swim?” he asks. A kindergarten teacher might talk to his class in the same voice.
“I can sink and I can float, same as you.”
“And when the water goes black and one of those things starts coming at you—”
“Those things? A thing like my mother?” she interrupts.
“—I can’t be worrying about protecting you while—”
“Then don’t. I never asked you to. I can take care of myself.”
His short, harsh laugh is a slap in the face. She propels the chair forward, breaking free from his grip. He takes a half-step after her, but reels himself back.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”
The man behind the counter watches the whole thing. He strokes a hand through his bristling black beard. “Four suits then?”
Jessica quietly strangles every one of them in her head while they finish the transaction, with an extra twist on Dantes' imaginary neck.
“You can’t stop me from getting on the boat.”
“This isn’t a game, Jessica. Y
ou’re going to stay here where it’s safe.”
“Where I’m not in the way, you mean.”
It had been variations of the same conversation for the last hour. Jordan and Eric were wise enough to keep their opinions to themselves, although Kathleen pipes up now and then to throw in a word of support to Jessica.
“The boat is perfectly safe,” Kathleen says. “She can help keep track of the equipment.”
The severity of the situation is almost enough to prevent Jessica from sticking out her tongue in a victorious taunt. Almost. Dantes obviously had another retort prepared, but glancing at Eric and Kathleen, he holds his tongue instead. To them it must have looked like he was finally giving in, but Jessica can read him better. The boat won’t be safe if we don’t make it back, that’s what he’s thinking. He doesn’t want to say it though, because he doesn’t want to scare off Kathleen and Eric.
It suddenly occurs to Jessica how unfair they’re being to their new friends. Kathleen knows there’s something going on under there, but neither of them have any idea what they’re really getting themselves into. Dantes' eyes are still tracking her, and he silently shakes his head as though he knows exactly what Jessica is thinking.
“Whatever you think might be down there isn’t half as bad as what’s waiting for us,” Jessica says. The words hang ominously in the air, standing apart from the quick banter that had been tossed back and forth before. “I need you to understand that before you take us out there.”
Shut up, Dantes' glare seems to say. Eric and Kathleen exchange an uneasy glance, but the set in Kathleen’s jaw is firm.
“It might be a one-way trip for any one of us,” Jessica adds. “If you want to tell us where to dive, then you can stay here if you want. No one would think less of you.”
Jordan chuckles. “Life’s a one-way trip. Might as well do some sightseeing before it’s over, right?”
Eric doesn’t share the enthusiasm. His hand is running through his hair again—a gesture Jessica is beginning to associate with uneasiness. “They’re real, then? These underwater demons and their city of fire? You’ve seen it too?”
Jordan nods solemnly. “Greatest scientific discovery of your life, assuming these things obey the laws of science anyway. And with great opportunity comes…”
“I’ll do it,” Eric says decisively. He pauses for a moment as though shocked at his own words before giving another jerky nod.
“Thank you.” Kathleen squeezes his hand. “Better than spending the rest of your life wondering ‘what if,’ right?”
“Better to have a life to wonder ‘what if,’” Eric says, chuckling nervously. “I Googled flight 477, you know. And the hacked message that was transmitted at the Los Angeles airport—it’s all related to this, isn’t it? What exactly is down there?”
Dantes sighs as he lugs the last air tank on deck. “The Beast.”
“And it’s our job to make sure he stays down there,” Jordan supplies after it becomes obvious Dantes won’t say anything more.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Kathleen says, a weak smile sneaking in.
“Just a little welcome present, courtesy of a friend of ours,” Jordan says. “Unless you plan on punching the ugly critter in the face.”
The Frenchman with the heavy brows and the buzz-cut hair arrives shortly after. The back of his pickup is covered with a thick, waterproof tarp stretched tight over the uneven lumps below.
“Meet the most dangerous man to ever mix chemicals in a bathtub: Jacques Martin,” Jordan says, whistling low. The two men embrace when Jacques hops out of the car. To Dantes—a stiff salute and a wolfish grin.
23
“Thought you could get rid of me that easily, did ya, boys?” Jacques guffaws at his own statement, despite Jessica being quite sure that it doesn’t contain a joke. “It’s about time you showed up. I was starting to think I’d have to blow a hole straight through the rock until I found something.”
“You’re a real bastard, you know that?” Jordan says, slapping Jacques on the back. “What have you been brewing all this time?”
“Little of this, and a whole lot of that,” he replies, the words dripping with cockiness and swagger. “And this pretty young thing must be the captain’s daughter. No wonder he always made such a fuss.”
He’s barreling toward her now, not showing the slightest sign of slowing down until he’s already on top of her. Jessica isn’t sure what’s happening until it’s too late. He leans in to kiss her on both cheeks, the rough stubble of his short beard grating against her skin.
“Charmed,” Jessica says, doing her best to smile and pretend that she isn’t choking on the cloud of musty cologne which had followed him into her personal bubble.
“Scrounge anything else up we can use?” Dantes asks, peeking under the blue tarp.
“Couldn’t get my hands on any guns, if that’s what you were hoping for,” Jacques replies. He jumps onto the back of the pickup in a single bound—almost four vertical feet—and unfastens the plastic cover. Rows and rows of 2 liter soda bottles line the bottom, wires entering through holes in the top to attach to little Nokia cell phones taped to the sides. “Only got here a day before you. These might come in handy though. Catch!”
I picked up what could only be a homemade explosive and made as if to hurl it down at Dantes who flinches and leaps back. Jacques howls with laughter while Dantes swears and mutters to himself.
“Don’t be a chicken, boy. You know I’m just playing with ya .”
“I’m still the sergeant,” Dantes grunts in disapproval. “Besides, we can’t fool around like that. Can’t tell who to trust anymore. One of them even got inside Jordan’s head on the plane.”
“No shit?” Jacques asks. He sets the container down and tosses a backpack down instead. “What was that like?”
“I don’t really remember it,” Jordan says. “I got a weird feeling in my stomach like I was in free fall, then I got real dizzy and everything went dark. I kind of felt myself moving, but it was like a dream. Next I knew I woke up on the ground and the demon had pitched itself out of the plane.”
Dantes meanwhile was rummaging through the backpack. He pulls out several long, curved hunting knives, keeping one and tossing the others to his men. Through all this Jessica can actually see the blood rushing from Eric’s face, leaving him pale-faced with beads of sweat on his brow.
“Looks like we’re going to be short a diving suit,” Eric mutters. “That’s okay. I’ll be fine in the boat. Keep Jessica company and all that.”
“If I knew keeping Jessica company was one of the jobs then I would have volunteered for that,” Jacques says, a wink accompanying another wolfish grin.
Dantes fumbles his knife holster and drops it on the ground. He hastily picks it back up and straps it on, staring at it fiercely all the while.
“How about you, Kathleen?” Jessica asks. “Are you sure about this?”
The edges of the scientist’s mouth curl in a strained smile. “If I was sure about anything then I wouldn’t have come here in the first place. Finding out the truth—that’s all that matters to me.”
The ocean sprays a chill mist into the air where the waves break against the boat. The ocean is a monster, breath regular and deep, sleeping lightly. A monster that can wake in wrath at any moment without provocation or warning, a monster that cannot be vanquished, or hidden from, or escaped. The rhythmic sway is calming, giving no hint as to the massive currents swelling below them. The steel-gray sky is captured by the water, stubbornly holding the reflection as a mask to block prying eyes. There wasn’t any old man to warn them about the conditions this time. In fact, Eric had even asked around when trying to disprove Kathleen’s vision, but there had been no sign of him since he was spotted walking on the ocean floor.
Jessica has left her wheelchair on the shore. She’s sitting on a wooden bench against the side of the boat, her pale thin legs dangling uselessly in front of her. She’s wearing a life vest, but more to shu
t Dantes up than for the hope of any real protection. They’d be at the mercy of any demon who found them in such a vulnerable position. Strike hard and fast, destroy the portal before they know we’re here, that’s the plan. And if they already know…
“Just ahead—that’s where the old man lead us before,” Kathleen says, gesturing for Eric who steered the vessel.
“He didn’t lead us,” Eric grumbles. “He didn’t even want us to come. Warned us to stay away, in fact.”
“So what changed his mind?” Jessica asks.
Jordan presses his mouth into a hard line. “Maybe he didn’t. Maybe something else changed it for him.”
She turns away from the others as they assemble their gear, checking their tanks and regulators. Even if she wasn’t crippled, she’d never been diving before. All the mercenary soldiers seem to know what they’re doing though, their shared history doubtlessly taking them on other wild adventures she knew nothing of. It’s funny how she never thought she belonged at home, but now that she’s finally gone she realizes how much less she belongs anywhere else.
The already frigid temperatures drop considerably by the time the engine cuts. Jessica can feel her body heat bleeding from the pores of her sweatshirt, stinging wind flushing her face, bringing tears to her eyes, and turning her nose into a faucet. There is something clean and pure in that freezing air though. No matter where she might have come from, or where she was going from here, the breath of the ocean reminds her that she is still human. All that she hated about herself had already died, and all the possibilities ahead after this is over…
“…first to take a look around.” Had Dantes been speaking this whole time? “I’ll resurface in one minute and report. If I don’t, then you’re to bring the boat back to shore and search for an alternate way into the temple.”
“Shit’s not going to fly,” Jacques says. “We’re going in together and we’re getting out together. End of story.”