by Russ Watts
“Terrick, just tell me someone made the call?”
“Yes, sir. Sam called for help as soon as we saw it arrive.”
“Good. Where’s James? We need all the firepower we can get.”
“He didn’t make it. He was trying to help the crowd get through the exit. Some idiot blocked it. I just saw that monster land on them. He was right in the middle of it. I don’t think anyone could have survived.”
Please don’t let Meghan or Hamish be in that pile of dead bodies. They have to be all right, they have to be.
“Terrick, if you can, try and shoot it. Keep back, but if you get a shot, take it. I’ll join you at the exit in a minute.”
Amanda had taken the crying boy’s hand and was trying to comfort him. As night swept over the park, it brought with it the stench of death. The screams and cries were fading, but the monster was still there, and feeding on the bodies.
“Amanda, get out of here and take the kid with you. We’ll worry about finding his parents later. Take the staff entrance, it’s clear. I have to help Terrick. I can’t let this thing get out of the park. I don’t know how, but I have to try to stop it.”
Amanda nodded as tears fell down her face. “Be careful.”
Don knew the kid was most likely an orphan, and he didn’t like to let them go, but he had a duty to everyone in the park. How could he have been so stupid? He should’ve made Zola listen to Amanda, not the other way around.
Don ran toward the monster, dodging the dead bodies on the ground and searching for Terrick. With the two of them armed, maybe they could at least scare it enough to retreat. He ran fast, passed the tail and the hideous dark green body, until finally he arrived at the park gates. He found the monster feasting upon so many people he wanted to be sick. Little was left in the pile of meat that resembled a human anymore.
“You sick fucker.” Don started firing at the creature, aiming for those large eyes on its head. He sprayed the monster with bullets, and it writhed around before arching its back and scuttling backwards. As the monster raised its head, ready to strike, Don saw Terrick appear. He unleashed more firepower and the monster shook its head from side to side, bellowing and roaring furiously. Its jaw’s quivered, and bloody saliva dripped onto the ground.
Don kept firing as he crept toward Terrick. He noticed a SWAT team swoop in through the narrow entrance, and they immediately joined him and Terrick in shooting at the monster. The giant bounced up and down, and it felt like the earth was alive, as it jostled the ground. It was like an earthquake, and the power from the creature’s movement caused them all to lose their footing. With its attackers temporarily immobilised, the monster scurried forward and took a chunk out of the park fence. It spat the metal fence out, and scooped up two of the SWAT team. Even when they were in its mouth, Don could see them firing and shooting. With one gulp though, they were gone, and the firing ceased. Don resumed firing as he lay on the ground, trying to shoot at the thing’s legs, body and tail, as it tried to leave the park.
Flashing red and blue lights illuminated the creature as it advanced, and Don heard shouting before suddenly, a fireball erupted on the creature’s back. Don was knocked back by the force of the explosion and hurtled into a large, concrete garbage bin anchored to the ground. He heard more shouting and looked up to see the monster crush an ambulance sat right outside the park gates. A helicopter circled overhead and a spotlight shone down upon the monster’s head.
Don got up. “Terrick? Terrick, you there?”
A man waved from the other side of the park and then was gone, as the monster’s tail whistled through the air and smashed the man into the ground. Don pointed his rifle at the monster as it continued fighting its way out of the park. The bullets sank into the flesh, but had little effect. The grenade on the creature’s back hadn’t even caused it to bleed, and Don saw it trample over half a dozen police cars as it left the park. Gunshots rang out over the otherwise still night and mingled with the animal’s barking, as it carved a path of destruction into the city.
Don’s rifle clicked empty and he sank to the ground, defeated. He could smell something rotten and fishy, undoubtedly the leftover pungent aroma of the beast. He watched as it jumped over a building to its right, and then he couldn’t see it anymore. He slumped backwards, exhausted, and his head landed on something soft. Reaching around, he picked up an arm that had been torn from its owner. The pale hand still clutched a small card, and Don saw the name on it: Stacy Woodman.
He closed his eyes and swallowed down the bile in his mouth, as he put the arm down gently.
Is this really what You wanted? She was just a kid. What about the others? What about the hundreds dead and injured, the families who had come for entertainment, but ended up being eaten alive? How many homes will be empty tonight? Is this what we deserve?
Don slowly got to his feet. More sirens approached, but all they could hope to do now was find the injured. Wild Seas Park was a morgue. He had to go find Amanda and Meghan. He had so much to do. All around him were dead bodies. There were no more screams. Were there even any injured people? All he could hear was the distant barking of the monster that up until thirty minutes ago, hadn’t even existed. Where was Diablo? It wasn’t with its parent, and it wasn’t likely to be hiding.
Don started walking back towards the security room. He wanted to get more ammo for the rifle and anything else he could still lay his hands on. If Diablo was still around, he wanted to be fully prepared. Soon, the park was going to be awash with cops and crime scene examiners, if not the FBI, and he didn’t know how much access he would get once they took over. Don retraced his steps, and as the battle receded behind him, he became aware of an odd sound. Like the mewling of a kitten, it occasionally burst into a series of coughs, before silencing. Don found the door to the janitor’s office that he and Amanda had escaped from, and the noise increased. He went into the room and waded down the stairs into the water. Although the roof had caved in, a small portion of the underground corridor was still visible. There, buried beneath the rubble and submerged in the cloudy water, was Diablo. A massive chunk of concrete was embedded in its head, and whenever it moved, blood spilled out, mixing with the salt water.
“You’re lucky I don’t have any ammo left,” said Don. He pulled his walkie out. “This is Don, anyone copy me?”
“Don, this is Sam. Where are you? Are you hurt?”
Don felt the scar above his head. His short hair was grimy with sweat and dirt. “I’m fine. I’m in the storeroom behind the stadium. How’re you doing, Sam?”
“Just peachy. I sent as many of the guys out there to help as I could, but…only Selick came back. Everyone else is…gone.”
“It’s not your fault, Sam. I’m in charge and this is on me.”
“Don, it’s going crazy here. Apparently, the FBI is on their way. The switchboard is jammed. You don’t even want to know what CNN is saying. This is insane. What do I do? What the hell do we do, Don?”
“Sam, listen, we’ve got a situation here and it needs containing. I need you and Selick to get down here quickly, before the FBI stick their noses in. Bring the lifting crane and flatbed truck. If anyone sees you, tell them you’re moving the injured dolphins from their pool to a holding tank.”
“Are the dolphins a priority right now, Don? There are so many injured people out there that we…”
“Sam, just do it. It’s not for the dolphins, but I don’t have time to explain right now. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you to do this. Unless you want more injured people, get off the radio, and get down here with the truck.”
“Copy.”
Don looked at Diablo as more blood seeped from the animal’s wound. “I guess Mommy lost you, huh? Did she get a bit excited, perhaps lost sight of why she was here? Thought she could leave you to finish us off while she went sight-seeing?”
Don knew he was going to have to find Amanda and tell her. He couldn’t leave Diablo here and wait for its parent to come back for another
go at rescuing its infant. The cops were going to want to speak to him, assuming they weren’t too busy chasing a giant monster over the city. He desperately wanted to find Meghan, to know that she was okay, but he also needed to get more ammo while he could. There was so much to do. All because of this hideous brute, hundreds if not thousands of people were dead. Zola was dead. For all he knew, Hamish, Curtis, and Meghan were too.
Don took his rifle butt and jammed it into Diablo’s right eye. The creature wriggled around, but was unable to free itself as Don continued blinding it. It was weak from blood-loss and Don took great pleasure as the animal’s eye finally burst. “And when I’ve got you out of there, I’m taking your other eye too, bitch.”
CHAPTER 13
OCTOBER SATURDAY 18TH 05:55
“O’Reilly, get over there, now. We’re moving on this. You’ve got a green light.”
Don clambered up the side of the bank and the gritty sand stuck to his body. As he nestled low into the dirty shoreline, he tried to ignore the stench that pervaded the air. There was a strong fishy smell mingling with what he could only assume was human excrement. He looked through his goggles and saw Pozden on his left flank, Carter to his right. Don felt the sun warming his back. An invisible force was pushing him along, moving his legs for him toward the crest of the bank as if he were a puppet on a string.
Tufts of coarse Psamma scratched at his legs and arms as he climbed. He knew what was coming over the ridge: the mosque, the faded green door, the stray cat, and a trailer full of dead rotting sharks. He went over the top and first of all, saw the trailer full of carcasses, only this time the sharks had been replaced with people. Women and men of all ages were piled up with their heads missing, their backs broken, and their souls in Hell. Things were moving fast now. He reached for his Heckler and Koch MP5K to find that it had been replaced with a cuddly toy. He looked down at the cute brown bear clutched in his hand. It wore a T-shirt proudly displaying a logo, ‘I met Diablo.’ Then the bear’s head fell off and blood gushed from its neck. Don dropped it in horror and looked back at the mosque as a dog barked in the distance
Do it, do it now.
Three men ran toward him firing their guns. Wilson shot them down as the doors to the mosque burst outwards. Hostages began pouring out, running in all directions as the man in the yellow polo shirt and red bandana raised his weapon. Don fired and the top of the building was lost in a mist of exploding masonry.
He tried to shout, yet every time he opened his mouth, he spewed out only sand. Don watched Robert’s left knee shatter as the explosion from the rocket launched Don into the air. His body smashed into the beach and he rolled over. Don lifted himself to his feet, aware his arm was broken. There was a hole in the ground where Wilson had been standing, and suddenly Carter fell at Don’s feet. “Blow it, Don, blow them all to Hell.”
He pulled the detonator from his pocket and looked at Carter. “The hostages? What about the fucking hostages!”
Carter lay still. “All gone. Do it, do it now, and take those bastards down. They’re inside the mosque.”
Don gripped Carter’s hand. “Where’s Robert?”
Carter was dead. Wilson was dead. The CRRC was still there, a few feet away. He could still make it back to the USNS Arctic. He looked at the detonator in his hand again.
Press it. Fuck, Robert, where are you? You’re the only one left. FUCK! Do it, do it now.
Carter’s words rang around his aching head. A tremor rippled through the sand, and the sun was obscured by a huge form that loomed over him. Diablo was running through the street, eating the dead hostages, and the Ocean King towered above Don as he squeezed his right hand.
Do it.
Bullets ripped into the beach, spraying him with dirt and sending mushroom clouds of gritty sand into his eyes. Carter’s body twitched as more rounds tore through him, and Don was sprayed with warm blood. An obtuse shape, no more than a shadow, flitted across his vision and melted into the sand before it could be identified, yet, Don cold feel what it was. The Ocean King was getting closer.
Do it, do it now.
A man’s voice spat out urgent commands that Don could not understand. The frantic barking of a rabid dog merged with the barks of the monster standing over him. Its face was coming closer now, closer to Don, its jaws widening. He could feel the beast’s warm breath as it opened its mouth to swallow him. He saw shreds of meat and tissue caught between its teeth and incisors dripping with blood. Zola’s head toppled out of its mouth and landed with a soft thud into the sand beside him. The man in the yellow polo shirt laughed, and Don’s head rang with the sound of death. He knew what he had to do.
A ringing alarm splintered Don’s head and he opened his eyes. The monster was gone and the sand around his feet was nothing more than a white duvet. The alarm clock next to him read six a.m., and he fumbled for the off switch. He looked around the room and he remembered why he was here.
In the carnage that had swiftly ensued last night, the monster had run amok in downtown San Diego. FOX was reporting ‘Monster Mayhem’ amid lurid details of how people had died. The injury list was truly horrifying. CNN had described it as one of the worst days in modern American history, leaving the blame squarely with Wild Seas, and their now deceased GM, Zola Bertoni. Amanda’s name had been mentioned only in passing. Many references had been made to Diablo and its current unknown location, but the majority of headlines were concerned with the new monster. A reporter on the BBC had called it the new king of the oceans, and so it had stuck. The New York Times, The Chicago Tribune, The Washington Post, USA Today, and even the Wall Street Journal had all gone with the same theme: ‘Where is the Ocean King?’ ‘Ocean King destroys San Diego.’ ‘Meet The Ocean King.’ A number of blurry and hastily taken photographs had failed to capture the true size of the beast, and it was the news channels that had the most accurate coverage with aerial footage of the monster ploughing through the city, showing graphically, just how big it was.
The army had been called up, but San Diego city centre had been annihilated before they had arrived on the scene. The Ocean King had wiped out billions of dollars’ worth of real estate, and the death toll stood in the thousands. Scripps Mercy Hospital had been overrun by midnight with casualties, and the injured had been sent further and further out to get treatment. A triage centre was set up at Paradise Valley Hospital, and a list of the identified dead was established.
Don remembered heading down there with Amanda around ten thirty. Amanda’s car escaped the Ocean King’s rampage unscathed, and she took them both to her place at first. It was empty, and there was no sign of Hamish. The phone lines were down, of course, and the mobile companies were so overloaded that it took hours before the text messages had come through. They had not talked to each other the whole car journey back. They agreed it would be best to go to the hospital, rather than sit around at home waiting, not knowing. Neither of them wanted to be at home, waiting for a phone call that may never come. Don insisted that on the way to the hospital, they drive by Collwood Lane. Once he had seen that the house was undamaged, they had moved on. Amanda didn’t ask why he wanted to look at the house, and he didn’t offer any explanation.
Whilst they waited outside Paradise Valley, sitting in the car in silence hoping to get news, Amanda’s phone started beeping. As the texts came in, she started weeping.
“Hamish is okay, he’s fine,” said Amanda. “Oh, thank God.”
“What is it?” asked Don. If Hamish had been hurt, he didn’t know how he would’ve comforted Amanda. He knew it was impossible to console someone who had just lost someone they loved. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”
“It’s his father, Curtis. He was badly hurt. He’s in a coma now. They’ve got him at Alvarado. Hamish is there now with his mother. I’ve got to talk to him.”
Don watched Amanda get out of the car and sit on the bonnet. She kept looking at her phone as she tried to get through, and finally, Don knew she had been connected. She
broke down as Hamish explained what had happened, and told Don later how Curtis had been crushed under Diablo, as he had run through the stadium.
Don sat patiently in the car. They had been there with hundreds of others, waiting for the injury and death toll to be updated. Finally, with Amanda still on the phone, he saw a doctor in green scrubs leave the foyer and pin two notices up on the front door. There were four armed guards to ensure that the access-way was kept clear, and there was a surge of people as the doctor left. Don got out of the car and sauntered over to the doors. People were jostling to get to the updated lists, and more were crying as they filed past Don away from the hospital.
Do you really want to look at it? Go home. That’s where she is. She’ll have gone back to the Old Station, or home. If she can, she’ll find you. Go back to Amanda. She needs you now. There’s no time for this. Meghan made it out. She’s at home, probably trying to call me, being consoled by her stupid flatmates. If anything, she’s probably in this crowd somewhere, trying to find out how I am.
Don checked his phone, but it was silent: no texts, no missed calls, and not one voicemail. Trying not to think the worst, he approached the two pieces of paper pinned up on the hospital doors. From the crowd, a tall man emerged in a black smock sporting a wild grey beard. He held a sheaf of paper out to Don as he neared the building. Don batted it away.
“The time has come. The time has come for us all. His is the only way. Only through Him can we seek blessed salvation and sanctuary in Heaven. He has sent his messenger. God is waiting for you.”
Don pushed the tall man away and stood in front of the door. He looked down the list of injured people. There were several new names on the list, highlighted in red, but he didn’t know any of the names and he felt relief. She was okay, she wasn’t here. Don began to let himself breathe again. He looked across to the list of dead, and scanned down it. Three from the bottom was the name Meghan McCabe. He read it again, looking up and down the list. Three from the bottom: Meghan McCabe. It couldn’t be. He traced his finger over the name and shivered.