“Or,” Richard said, “we could just wait inside this ventilation shaft until help arrives.”
“No way. You saw what they did to the rain forest exhibit. Not to mention all the other tanks they’ve smashed already. This place will be flooded in no time. If the water gets into the ducts, we’re screwed.”
The rain forest exhibit had been one of the National Aquarium’s top attractions—its crown jewel. Situated on the top floor, it was a completely self-contained ecosystem, an actual mini-rainforest inside a greenhouse-like dome. It contained flora and fauna native to the Amazon basin. The marauding Clickers had destroyed it, shattering the glass and allowing the hurricane to breach the building.
“But what if they’ve accessed the fire stairs?” Richard stretched, trying to get rid of the kink in his neck. “I’d rather drown in here than end up as an appetizer for one of those things.”
“It’s doubtful they did. There’s no prey in the stairwell, after all. Why would they bother with that when there are glass tanks all around them, filled with fish?”
“That technician, Duncan, didn’t think there would be any in the office corridors either, and look what happened to him.”
He shuddered at the memory.
Jennifer took a deep breath. “Richard…Please. I know you’re scared. I’m scared, too. But work with me.”
It was hard to see his face in the darkness, but she thought he might be blushing.
“You’re correct, Jennifer. I’m sorry.”
She reached out, found his hand, and squeezed it. “It’s okay. Don’t apologize. Just stay with me. We’ll be home in no time.”
“Deal.”
“Hold on to my legs so I don’t fall.”
They opened the grate and Jennifer lowered her head, glancing around the corridor. It looked eerie, bathed in the red glow of emergency lighting, but it was empty, save for two inches of water covering the floor. She listened carefully. From farther inside the building came the sounds of breaking glass and the squeal of a dolphin in distress. Jennifer fought back tears. The aquarium’s dolphins had been among her favorites.
“What is it?” Richard asked.
“They’ve gotten into the dolphin exhibit.”
“Which means that they’re on the floors below us. Do you hear anything else?”
“No,” Jennifer lied, not wanting to frighten him any further than he already was. But she did hear something else. She heard the clicking sounds. The hallway echoed with them.
Click-click…Click-click…
She took a deep breath and then climbed down from the ductwork. Richard followed her. Jennifer slipped her shoes back on and they both stretched their cramped muscles. Then they carefully pushed open the fire door and entered the stairwell. Jennifer clutched the letter opener. It made her feel safer. The door swung shut behind them. Water trickled down the walls, leaking from somewhere else inside the aquarium. The stairwell was silent; the thick concrete walls served as a sound buffer. Jennifer was grateful for the reprieve, and began softly humming Depeche Mode’s “Enjoy the Silence.”
Richard frowned in concern. “Are you okay?”
“Sorry.” Jennifer stopped humming and smiled instead. “Just happy to be out of that shaft.”
“Me too. My knees and elbows are killing me.”
“Let’s exercise them, then.”
They started down the stairs. Jennifer’s heels clicked on the cement, and she had to take them off again. They reached the first landing, crept past the door, and went down the next flight of steps. Above them, they heard a fire door slam. The boom echoed through the stairwell. Both of them jumped. Jennifer held her breath. Richard leaned out over the rail and craned his head upward. A moment later, he leaned back.
“I can’t see anything…”
Click-click…Click-click…CLICK-CLICK…CLICK
CLICK…
The sound filled the air, growing louder by the second. Jennifer stifled a scream. Clawed legs tapped on the cement as the Clicker—if indeed, it was just one— started down the stairs.
Richard grabbed Jennifer’s arm. “Run!”
They sprinted down the stairs, taking them two at a time and leaping around the corner for the next landing. As they did so, the fire door a level below them burst open. Two more Clickers lunged through the doorway and into the stairwell. The creatures cried out with a hissing-warble and the one on the floor above answered. Jennifer and Richard heard it coming down the stairs towards them.
“We’re trapped,” Richard gasped.
Braced for the worst, Jennifer yanked open the fire door on their landing. To her immense relief, the corridor was clear. The Clickers had been there. The carpet was sodden and torn, and the walls gouged by pincers. But there was no sign of them now.
Above and below them, the crab-things raced in for the kill. The stairwell thrummed with the noise.
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK…
“Come on.” She pulled Richard into the hallway and slammed the door behind them. Desperate, Jennifer glanced around for something to block the doors with. The only thing in sight was a fire extinguisher. It was too thick to wedge through the door handles and not heavy enough to wedge against the doors.
“Forget it,” Richard cried, guessing her intentions. “Just go!”
They ran down the corridor, rounded a corner, and then came to another service door. The door had a small window in its center. Jennifer glanced through it and saw that it opened out into the public portion of the aquarium, right in front of the shark exhibit. If they went through the door and turned right, they’d travel towards the dolphins. A left took them down into the shark area. Another popular attraction with tourists, the shark tanks took up two entire floors. A wide ramp cut through their center, so that visitors could literally walk through the middle of the tank and see sharks swimming all around them. Thick glass walls surrounded the four-level ramps like a reverse fish bowl. Jennifer remembered that at the end of the bottom ramp, there was an emergency exit door that led outside to the shipping and receiving department’s loading docks.
“Almost there,” she whispered.
And they were. All they had to do was open this door, run out into the aquarium itself, and flee down two stories worth of ramps through the middle of the shark tank. The tank itself was filled with over ten different species of sharks, as well as various small fish, stingrays, and other aquatic life forms. Due to its size and the abundance of prey, it would offer a tempting hunting ground for the Clickers.
Richard must have known this, too, because his eyes were wide and round and his skin turned pale.
“I can’t do this,” he said. “I just—”
Behind them, the fire door exploded inward and their pursuers darted into the service corridor.
“Changed my mind.” Richard grabbed her hand and they ran through the door and into the main hall. Their progress was slowed by the amount of water on the floor; at least six inches and all of it rushing towards the shark tank’s downward ramps. Richard’s socks and shoes were quickly soaked, and his pace slackened as a result. Jennifer tossed her shoes aside. They waded to the top of the ramp. The Clickers hadn’t yet made it that far. The tank’s huge glass walls were still intact. A lone tiger shark swam over their heads, its shadow darkening the red glow of the emergency lights for a second. They splashed onward, mindful of the creatures pursuing them.
The water level increased as they plunged downward, slowing them further. Its depth had reached almost a foot. Jennifer tripped halfway down the second ramp and fell face-first into the water. She surfaced, sputtering and blinking the water from her eyes. It tasted foul—dirt and chemicals and fish and blood. Gasping, she flipped her wet hair out of her eyes. Jennifer caught a glimpse of a human finger floating by. She almost vomited.
Richard helped her to her feet. “Are you okay?”
Coughing, Jennifer nodded. They listened for the sounds of pursuit, but none were forthcoming. The aquarium was silent again.
>
“Maybe they went the other way,” Richard suggested. “Let’s keep going while we’ve got the chance.”
They continued downward, moving slower now and making an effort to conceal their splashing. They didn’t speak. Richard held Jennifer’s hand tightly. She wondered if it was for her benefit or to make him feel better, and then decided the reason didn’t matter, because it worked either way.
Eventually, they reached the lower level. The water rose higher; trapped with nowhere to go. It was up to their necks, and they gave up trying to walk and doggy-paddled instead.
“Where’s the exit door?” Richard gasped.
Jennifer pointed to the other side of the room. “Over there.”
They swam towards it. Jennifer glanced at the towering walls of glass that surrounded them on all sides, and recoiled in disgust. A length of intestines floated by inside the tank. They were followed seconds later by a shark’s tail. The rest of the shark was missing. She was just about to open her mouth and warn Richard that the Clickers were inside the tank when three of them appeared on the other side of the glass; two to their right and one to their left. Immediately, the monsters began pounding on the thick barrier with their serrated claws. The sound was muffled, but the power and violence behind the blows was clear.
“How thick is that glass?” Jennifer asked.
“There is no way they can break it,” Richard said. “It was built to hold thousands of gallons of water, plus all the sharks. It can withstand an earthquake. Only thing that could break it is a direct hit with a rocket launcher at point blank range—and even then, it might just crack.”
He sounded confident, but Jennifer did not feel reassured. Three more Clickers appeared, bringing the total to six. One of them was directly overhead. It hammered on the glass and she felt the vibration run through the water around her.
“Does that door open inward or out?” Richard pointed at the exit.
“I don’t know. Why?”
“Because if it opens inward, we’ll never budge it with all this water.”
“Only one way to find out.” Jennifer swam ahead, weaving around the debris floating on the surface. She tried to ignore the Clickers, tried to ignore the muffled pounding, and found she couldn’t. Each blow rattled the glass walls and reverberated through the water. As she reached the door, there was an awful cracking sound from behind her.
Richard said, “Oh no…”
Jennifer turned and saw a spider web of cracks and fissures spreading throughout the surface of the far wall. The Clickers had grouped together in that section and were concentrating their efforts. The scientific part of her mind marveled over this apparent reasoning capacity. Who could have imagined the creatures possessed problem-solving skills? Then her survival instincts took over. She reached beneath the surface, found the door handle, and pushed. The door wouldn’t budge. Richard swam to her side. Together, the two of them threw their weight against the door and shoved. It popped open, spilling both of them and the trapped water out onto the loading docks. Behind them, the shark tank exploded, showering the entire ground level with shards of broken glass, sharks, water, and six very angry Clickers.
Jennifer lost her footing. The rushing water slammed her against a green garbage dumpster. Richard struggled to shut the door behind them, but lacked the strength to push it against the tide.
“Here they come,” he panted. “Jen, get up and run. I can’t go any farther.”
Jennifer tried to clear her head. She stumbled to her feet. Just then, a voice called out from behind them.
“Get out of the way!”
Jennifer and Richard didn’t pause to determine who the speaker was. They obeyed the command, and ducked behind the dumpster. The first Clicker rammed through the doorway, hissing in anger, and was met with a deafening volley of automatic weapons fire. Jennifer put her hands over her ears and shut her eyes. Richard collapsed to the pavement and buried his head against the side of the dumpster. The gunfire continued for what seemed like a very long time; it was followed by an arc of flame, close enough that they could both feel its heat. The fine blonde hairs on Jennifer’s arms were singed. The Clickers squealed in agony, and she heard their flesh sizzling.
When it stopped, they crept out from behind their shelter. The Clickers lay in a burned, congealed pile, along with debris that had washed out of the aquarium. Approximately three-dozen soldiers stood in the loading area, weapons held at the ready, watching all sides for further attacks. An older man in an officer’s uniform stepped forward. Jennifer’s first impression of him was that he was very handsome. Her second was that he meant business, and looked ready to kill someone.
“Do either of you know Doctor Jennifer Wasco?” His voice was stern and demanding.
“I-I’m Jennifer.”
The old man’s eyes widened and the ghost of a smile crossed his face. Then he stepped forward and shook her hand.
Jennifer was startled. “Who are you?”
“Colonel Augustus Livingston, U. S. Army.”
“What are you doing here?”
His smile grew broader. “You’re rescued.”
Chapter Nine
Assateague Island, Virginia
10:01 PM
The Dark Ones moved in silence. The hurricane was their harbinger; the winds whispered promises of the death and destruction they would soon rain down upon the surface. They drove the Clickers before them, not as prey, but as fodder. The lowly crustaceans provided a distraction, an exploratory force that would keep the humans busy until they could make landfall. Only then would the real slaughter begin. Their blood sang in anticipation.
Sixty feet down, they passed the shipwreck of the Hannah M. Lollis, which had sunk in 1882 with all hands and a cargo hold full of copper and fruit. The decrepit hulk fell apart as they clambered over its rotting, skeletal timbers. A school of yellowfin tuna that had lagged behind after all the other marine life had fled, scattered as they approached. The Dark Ones let them go, urged on by the promise of more exotic prey—and driven by an overpowering thirst for revenge.
The last time they’d ventured ashore, several years ago during a similar storm on the land’s northern coast, the Dark Ones had taken shelter inside a cave. They’d prepared a nest for the season—feeding on the local wildlife and breeding. Then, weeks later, at the time of birthing, men had discovered their location. Flames followed—and death. The humans had weaponry like nothing they’d ever imagined; fire rained down from the sky. An entire generation of their species had been wiped out in the attack. The survivors escaped back into the sea, traveled far along the ocean floor, and told the rest about the tragedy.
Now they marched on man. Humankind had declared war. They would answer the challenge. The massacre would be avenged tenfold.
They emerged under the cover of darkness and waded ashore at Assateague Island. The beach and nearby tree line were littered with the torn carcasses of the wild horses that called the island home. The Clickers had already been here, and judging from the carnage, they had preformed exactly as the Dark Ones had wanted them to.
The leader surveyed the carnage. A long, forked tongue slithered from his mouth and tasted the salt-air. He breathed through his reptilian nostrils, his gills slapping uselessly now along the side of his neck. The breeze tickled his green, scaled skin. He glanced up at the moon, and wondered how long it would be until sunrise. Their kind had become more resistant to the light, but they would still need to find shelter before the dawn. All along the coast, from the warm southern climes to the northern coasts where they’d first emerged so many years ago, similar bands of Dark Ones would be seeking shelter as well.
Soon, hundreds of its kind amassed on the shore. Some of them sated themselves on horseflesh. Others stirred restlessly, anxious to shed human blood.
The leader smiled, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth.
Soon they would get their chance. The slaughter would be unlike anything ever seen on land.
Chapter Ten
>
Towson, Maryland
10:44 PM
Never in a million years would Jennifer have believed she’d be squeezed into a military Humvee with several grim soldiers, a high-ranking Army Colonel, and her boss, all comparing notes on giant crab monsters while racing to stay ahead of the worst part of a major hurricane. The military motorcade swept on through the night, going as fast as their slowest vehicle so they wouldn’t lose anybody: fifty-five miles per hour.
Jennifer was in the front seat, trying to see out the windshield. Water ran across it in sheets. This section of Interstate 83 was relatively clear of traffic or stalled vehicles. Livingston told them when she and Richard were ushered inside the vehicle, that the National Guard had cleared both lanes just north of the Beltway and directed traffic onto 795 and 70 heading east. Jennifer didn’t bother to ask why. All she was concerned with now was comparing notes with Colonel Livingston, who seemed to have an uncanny grasp of the magnitude of what they were dealing with.
Both she and Richard had been given a cursory medical exam on the way, and Livingston had debriefed them. Jennifer found it a little disconcerting that the military had sent a team in just to extract her.
“So you have an idea of what’s happening,” Jennifer said.
“It’s not just an idea. I know what we’re dealing with.”
Jennifer looked at him. Livingston’s features were grave, his jaw set in determination. The outer fringes of the hurricane were rapidly gaining on them, and Livingston was struggling to keep the Humvee on a straight course. The driving wind and rain buffeted the massive vehicle. Jennifer saw the speedometer needle creep up to sixty. The high beams were on, but even those weren’t much help in seeing what the massive winds were blowing onto the highway. Twice Livingston had to swerve around chunks of debris—signs blown off overhead ramps, tree limbs. At the speed Hurricane Gary was approaching, the worst of the storm would probably be hitting within the next three hours.
Clickers II: The Next Wave Page 15