Sam froze as she heard a moan come for the darkness of the hatch. She pulled her gun and whirled to face the rectangular void. The shadow poured out of the hatch so fast it took Sam a few seconds to realize just what it was. The body followed a moment later. Sam stumbled backwards and slipped, slamming against the side of the boat. Stars flashed through her vision as her head smacked into the fiberglass hull.
The shadow reared up in front of her and the body mimicked the action, only with a raised hatchet. She rolled out of the way as the blade came down, sending pieces of wood and fiberglass into the air. Sam fired five shots into the shadow before it burst into a black cloud. After a horrendous scream, the body collapsed to the floor with a thud.
The sharks nudged the boat, making Sam curse as she gained her feet. She grabbed the hatchet and ran over to the tanks. The cable gave way in a shower of sparks when she hit home, then she grabbed the first tank. She heaved it, fully expecting it to have weight, and was thrown off balance as the lightness surprised her. The tank went flying behind her, splashing into the water.
She tried the second tank and found it heavy, so she dragged it across the boat to the ledge then slipped her arms through the straps. The boat rocked violently once more, and she waited until it steadied before climbing back onto the ledge. She moved as quickly as she dared. With the added weight of the tank on her back, she felt awkward and unsure. The tank tugged her back with each step across the meager ledge. She reached the window and flung herself through, where she collapsed with relief.
* * *
Blount jerked awake as he heard the shots echo across the roof. He was so exhausted, he hadn’t even realized he’d drifted off. Casey was already standing at the edge of the roof looking down as he rushed over.
“What happened?”
“Not sure. Just heard the shots,” Casey said.
Blount looked around wildly in search of Sam then spotted her back on the ledge. “There she is!” He saw the tank on her back and willed her to make it safely into the building, watching as she disappeared from sight.
A few moments later, the door slammed open and Sam grinned over at them. Archer appeared behind her, holding the tank out to Blount as he spoke. “I hope that was worth it.”
Blount took the tank and set it down gently, then lunged at Sam and engulfed her in a tight bear hug. “It was worth it,” he whispered into her hair.
Sam allowed the embrace to linger. The look of smug satisfaction on Archer’s face as he looked on was not lost on her, so she pulled back and flashed a tired smile. “I don’t know about you, but I’m drained. I’m in no shape to fly right now, and you don’t look to hot yourself, mister.”
Blount nodded. Blushing, he released Sam then turned to Archer. “What’s it look like down there?”
“One floor down isn’t bad, but any farther is a nightmare.”
“Let’s secure the helicopter and bed down for the night.”
“Best idea I’ve heard in a long while.” Sam laughed.
“Seconded,” Archer said.
Chapter Five
Blount was nearly asleep when he felt someone maneuver into his sleeping bag. He tensed and reached for his gun at his side. A soft, warm hand closed over his and Sam whispered into his ear, “Relax, it’s just me.” A million thoughts passed through his head as she snuggled up to his side.
Sam must’ve felt the rigidness of his body, because she hesitated. “You cool with this?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
Blount could hear the smile in her voice. Sam rested her head on his chest and he inhaled her scent, feeling his body respond to her closeness. He didn’t trust himself to talk, so he just held her close.
A few minutes later, Sam raised her head and squinted up at him in the gloom. Blount looked back and waited.
Sam broke the silence. “What is this?”
“You tell me.”
She frowned and sighed. “Help me out here.”
“You barely know anything about me. I’m twice your age…”
“So?”
Blount sighed and looked away from her. She reached up and ran a hand over his scruffy face.
“So?” she repeated.
“I don’t need to worry about you more than I already do. I’ve lost so much. More than you can ever understand.”
Flashes of Sarah streaked through his mind’s eye. The way the right side of her lips were slightly crooked when she smiled. The vivid color of her eyes when she’d told him they were pregnant. So many memories, so many lives, long buried, all rushed to the surfaces of the graves he’d tossed them into.
Sam’s face fell as he said those words. “Let me try to understand. At least give me that much of a chance.”
* * *
Casey watched Sam and Blount from the darkness of her corner. She didn’t dare move. Though the two were whispering, their voices still carried quite clearly. She found herself smiling as she followed the conversation. There had been so much death, so much despair, the past year. Yet even in these dire circumstances, love bloomed like fresh hope.
Her mother intruded on her thoughts and the tinge of happiness she’d felt dulled. Casey wondered what had happened to her mother. The last time her father had taken her to visit, Mom hadn’t even recognized her.
Casey knew, deep down, her father had resisted hospitalizing Mom until there was no choice but to put Tanya in protective care. The madness had eaten away at her mother for years. It’d been there, like a brooding monster, before they’d married, dad had speculated, and it had revealed its existence just after Casey had been born. The stress of new motherhood had ripped and gnawed at the flimsy mental walls Tanya had erected.
Her father saw the signs, sensed something was not quite right, but he’d soldiered on, hoping against hope that things would get better. Casey had to hand it to him. A lesser man would’ve left after all the incidents and close calls, but he’d stuck by his wife’s side through it all.
Casey didn’t remember much of her early childhood. There were no major incidents seared into her earliest memories, but as she reached adolescence, it became clear something was off with her mother.
Once Casey became aware of this, it was easy to pinpoint how Tanya didn’t act like other mothers Casey knew. Confirmation came on Casey’s thirteenth birthday. Her father had, as was then routine, been working late with the service, and Casey came home to a dark, still house. This wasn’t unusual, yet as Casey dropped her school bag on the kitchen table and grabbed an apple from the fruit basket, alarms went off in her head.
The kitchen wall was darker than it should’ve been, and as Casey flicked on the lights, she realized why. Blood covered the once white plaster. It slid down the wall in places, and in others it had dried and clumped.
Casey caught a low moaning drifting from the darkness of the dining room. The hair stood up on her neck and arms as she slowly approached the dining room.
“Mom”? She’d called as she peered into the gloom.
“The tide’s all wrong. The tide’s not right,” her mother had whispered as she clutched her knees and rocked back and forth against the wall. “The tide’s all wrong. The tide’s not right! The only hope we have is to contain the key, find the key, the tide’s all wrong!”
She remembered what the responding EMT’s had told her father after they’d managed to subdue her frantic mother. “Next time, it’ll be your daughter, Mr. Archer, not the cat.”
Casey wondered if her mother was still alive out there, somewhere.
* * *
Archer’s mind was restless. A barrage of thoughts paraded through his head at break-neck speed. Try as he might, he couldn’t latch onto any one of them. These images that flashed through his brain troubled him, because they were scenes he knew he hadn’t witnessed. They were images of death, destruction, blood, refuse, and fire. Picture after picture seared across his inner vision, relentless in their progression. Each new image was a hammer-punch to his consciousne
ss. He tossed and turned and willed himself to open his eyes, but they refused to respond. Swimming up from the nightmare, he strived to break the surface, but each time he was just about to emerge in the waking world, he was yanked back down into the depths.
When his eyes opened, at first, he wasn’t sure where he was. He blinked rapidly and was startled as he focused on Blount, Sam, and Casey all huddled around him, their faces shrouded with concern.
“You’re burning up,” Sam said, the coolness of her hand caressing his forehead.
“Are you all right, Dad?”
“I’m-I’m fine,” Archer croaked. “Water?”
Blount produced a bottle and guided it to Archer’s parched lips. Archer drank greedily. The water felt like heaven as it flowed down his throat. He coughed violently but managed to catch his breath. He could feel the suspicion oozing off Blount, who observed him with a detached expression.
“What?” Archer asked.
Blount looked like he was about to say something, then thought better of it. “Nothing.” He gave a dismissive wave, stood, and busied himself with inventorying his ruck. “We move out in fifteen.”
Archer wearily gained his feet and swayed. Gratefully, he reached out as Casey moved to offer a steady shoulder.
“You sure you’re OK?”
It felt as if he hadn’t slept in years. His body was sore in places he didn’t even know existed. Everything felt and sounded like he was moving beneath deep water. His ears roared with white noise, and he found he had to concentrate on his daughter’s lips as she spoke. He just wanted to sleep, just wanted to fall down and never get up again.
“I’m fine,” he said. “Just go help Blount and Velska load up the chopper. I’ll be fine. Just need to catch my breath for a second.”
Casey lowered Archer into a mildewed chair and looked at her father with apprehensiveness. He waved her away and leaned his head back, closing his blood-shot eyes.
Casey grabbed her bag and her father’s then made her way up the stairs to the roof, where she just missed Sam and Blount sharing an embrace. Smiling, she called out, “‘Bout time you two quit beating around the bush!”
Sam blushed and cast a furtive glance at Blount. He surprised them both by offering a genuine smile. “Yeah, ‘bout time.”
Sam leaned against him and grinned.
“When’s the wedding?” Casey teased.
Chapter Six
Black Rock Facility, Code Name: Hellfire –
“That’s it?” Sam asked as they circled the non-descript building. Water lapped at the third story windows, agitated by the hovering aircraft.
“The bulk of it is underground,” Blount said. “Take us down to the heliport over there.”
Sam set the helicopter down with barely a jolt. Blount pushed open the cockpit door as the rotors powered down. He heaved the scuba tank and wrestled into the straps.
When he caught a look at Archer, his concern and unease tripled. The man looked like death warmed over. For a brief moment, Blount thought he saw something on Archer’s chest. He blinked and the vision passed. What the hell?
Archer’s eyes flashed open, as if he knew he was being observed. A sensation crashed over Blount, rocking him back on his heels with its force. Those eyes. He’d seen those eyes before. Archer blinked and his normal eyes returned as Blount’s vision once more faded. Blount opened his mouth to say something, but his mind was blank. He knew he was supposed to remember something, but whatever it’d been had been plucked from his brain. He frowned and struggled to clear his head, but it was a churning mess.
It’s not finished, the twins whispered.
“Gibson?” Sam said.
“Yeah?” She used my first name. A not-unpleasant warmth passed through his limbs.
“Be careful.”
* * *
Blount entered through the ventilation shaft. On the surface, the building did not appear to have the myriad of surveillance and security it actually possessed. He was thankful for the loss of power, as that would have taken care of the more stringent systems. The backup generators had ceased to work after being flooded. Still, it didn’t mean this would be easy.
He didn’t risk a look at Sam and the others, because he didn’t want this to be the last image he held of her. Already his actions were being influenced by Sam. On one hand, he savored the emotions, but on the other he shoved them deep within, trying to ignore them. Distractions would get him killed. He knew this only too well from experience.
Carefully he lowered himself into the shaft and felt for the ladder in the darkness. His boot clanged against one of the rungs. He sucked in a breath as his feet disappeared beneath the frigid water. The water sucked the heat from his legs as he descended. Blount had never been particularly claustrophobic, but the tightness in the ducts was wearing on him. Having the bulky tank on his back didn’t help matters either.
He came to an intersection and paused to check the dial attached to his tank. Twenty minutes of air left. The thought of running out while trapped beneath all this water caused a twinge of panic to flair in his chest. He forced his breathing to remain steady as he floated in the gloom. Flashing his light to the right, he peered down a passageway. His light only reached about ten feet until the blackness swallowed it up. Next, he directed his light down the left fork of the corridor. A few feet farther ahead, he spied an access hatch into the main building. He swam left and worked the latch on the steel grating.
The hatch was small, but he struggled through. A few times he was sure he’d become stuck, but he managed to slip through the small opening. Blount had been in this complex many times, but seeing the hallways in this unfamiliar setting threw his bearings off. He swam over to a sign on the wall and studied the diagram affixed there.
His flashlight dimmed and fluttered, so Blount banged it against the wall. The beam steadied as he got his bearings, and he pushed off the wall to propel himself down the hallway, towards his goal.
* * *
Sam checked her watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. Blount should’ve been back by now. She peered down the shaft and willed him to break the surface.
“Where are you?”
Casey ventured over and slipped a hand into Sam’s. She squeezed softly and offered a comforting smile. “He’ll be fine.”
They both shouted with relief as Blount broke the surface. He inhaled deeply and coughed. Grinning up at them, he began to climb the ladder.
The girls helped him from the shaft and he collapsed on the rooftop. He held up a hand as they both spoke, then he gulped in a lungful of precious air. “I’m fine.”
Sam sat on the roof and guided Blount’s head into her lap. She smoothed his hair from his damp forehead. “That feels nice,” he murmured with a weak smile.
He reached into his pocket, and Sam frowned as she saw the small object in his palm. It was the size of an egg and black. When it shifted in Blount’s palm, it emitted flashes of red light.
“What the hell is that?”
Blount closed his fist and slipped the object back in his pocket. “It’s a vortex enclosure.”
“And?” Sam said. “You practically killed yourself for that?”
Blount shrugged. “We’re going to need it.”
“What’s it do?” Casey asked.
“It’s dark matter,” Blount said. “Encased in a multidimensional carbonate shell.”
Sam looked from Casey to Blount with a confused expression on her face.
“It’s a mini-black hole,” Casey said.
“Basically.”
“Oooo-kaaaay,” Sam muttered. “This just gets weirder and weirder.”
“Wait a minute,” Casey said. “Don’t black holes destroy matter?”
“Yes.”
“And keep destroying matter?”
“Normally, yes,” Blount said. “This is a last resort weapon. I think we’re at our last resort, don’t you?”
“Won’t it keep growing, though?”
“It
shouldn’t.”
“It shouldn’t?”
Blount had to remind himself that Casey and Sam weren’t used to his world—a world of magic, monsters, and destruction. It reminded him just how different each of his lives had been. He sat up and wearily gained his feet, wanting to just be normal at that moment, but he couldn’t ever be normal. Once he knew what was really out there, in the dark, what was waiting to engulf mankind with the first opportunity it got, he had to do something about it—whatever it took. Knowledge sucked everything out of him—love, hate, wonder—and left darkness in its place. The only thing that kept Blount going was hope that maybe, this time, things would be different, work out better. He won some, he lost some, but he kept fighting, because maybe this time, he would win.
“Remember what I told you guys…about me, my life? I’ve done this before, or something very much like it, I’m sure of it. Whatever has to be done, that’s the point. We keep moving forward until we can’t any longer.”
“I’m with you,” Sam said.
“Count me in,” Casey said. “I had that thing in me, remember? I don’t want anyone to ever feel that kind of darkness, that emptiness, ever again.”
“Sounds like we’re going somewhere,” Archer said.
All three of them whirled, startled, as his raspy voice broke their conversation. Blount sucked in a breath when he took in Archer’s condition. The man was pale and sweating profusely. His eyes were sunken and bloodshot, and he was missing tufts of his hair. It’d only been about thirty minutes since he’d last seen Archer, but this transformation, or rather this decrepitude, looked like years of decay has occurred instead of minutes. Something shifted in Blount’s mind and he blinked. Now Archer looked merely tired and worn out, not practically near death.
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