Simon smiled. “I heal quickly. But you are correct. I think we could all do with a bit of sleep. By morning, I’ll feel right as rain.”
Gail, McCann and Novak all winced at the unintentional pun.
“Sorry,” Simon apologized. “I suppose I could have chosen a better phrase.”
“I’ll take watch,” Gail said. “There’s no sense in all of us staying awake.”
“Bullshit.” Novak shifted around, trying to sit up. Doing so elicited a groan. He slumped back down again.
“You need your sleep,” Gail chided him. “So does Simon. I’ll stand watch.”
“I can help,” McCann offered. “You take the first half and I’ll take the second.”
Gail hesitated. She was reluctant to give McCann that much responsibility, especially considering the erratic behavior he’d been exhibiting since their encounter with the living island. It seemed strange to her that it had all happened just a short time ago—the creature, the disappearance of the ship, and everything else that had happened. Events had conspired to lead them here, to this refuge of a madman and his prisoner—a prisoner who might be their only hope. Gail had never believed much in fate or providence, but the events of the last twenty-four hours made her wonder.
It occurred to her how insane Simon sounded. Not his voice or tone, both of which were perfectly pleasant and rational. It was the words themselves that sounded crazy. Secret paramilitary occult organizations and doorways to alternate universes were the stuff of fiction. But then again, so were the plethora of monsters they’d encountered. If she wanted fantasy, all she had to do was look outside. Even the weather was unnatural.
She realized that McCann was staring at her, waiting for her response. She smiled.
“That’s okay, really. You should get some sleep, too. You almost drowned today.”
“I’m fine,” he insisted. “Stop treating me like a baby.”
There was an edge in McCann’s voice that wasn’t normally there, and Gail wondered once more what was going on inside of him.
“How about this? I’ll take the first shift and you go to sleep. When I get tired, I promise that I’ll wake you up. Does that sound fair?”
McCann shrugged. His expression was sullen. “I guess.”
Gail checked their boat and made sure it was still secure. Then she turned to the fire, relishing the warmth.
“We should put this out, I guess.” Her voice rang with regret. “No sense in attracting whatever might be lurking outside overnight.”
“I concur,” Simon said. “And don’t fret, Gail. I can always start another come morning.”
Snuffing the flames, she nodded. As the ashes hissed and smoked, Gail felt a deep sense of loss. The warmth had brought comfort and a long-missed feeling of normality. With the fire gone, the cold and dampness seemed to creep back into her joints almost instantly. She sat down wearily in front of the open door and stared out into the darkness, listening to the waves and the rain. Soon, Novak began to snore behind her. McCann soon followed. When she turned to look at Simon, she couldn’t be sure if his eyes were closed or not. They seemed to be, yet there was a glint in the shadows. He sat still and his breathing was rhythmic and shallow. She turned her attention to the ocean again, and wondered how the hell they’d get across it in their rinky-dink boat with only a few weapons and supplies.
She wasn’t aware that she’d fallen asleep until something cold and wet coiled around her leg and began dragging her towards the water.
CHAPTER 57
Gail’s eyes snapped open as she slid toward the water. In the darkness, the ocean was just a black wall. She couldn’t see anything of the creature that held her. It’s shapeless bulk reared up from the roiling surface, blocking most of the opening. She glanced down at the black-green tentacle coiled around her ankle. Its tapered tip flexed, burrowing beneath her pants leg even as the rest of the tendril squeezed tighter.
“Shit! Guys… help me! Somebody?”
She reached for the shotgun, but the weapon was too far away, and her hands slapped the damp, slick floor.
Simon, Novak and McCann awoke at her cries just as a second tentacle whipped into the room. It swayed back and forth, snake-like, and then darted toward Novak. Groaning, he rolled out of the way.
Gail scrabbled at the floor, trying desperately to find a handhold or purchase. Splinters of wood speared the soft flesh beneath her fingernails, but she barely felt the pain. Panicking, she grabbed the tentacle and tried to dislodge it. The appendage pulsated, squeezing tighter. Her ankle and foot went numb. She slid closer to the opening. Mist drifted over her skin, chilling her. She gasped, tasting salt and brine.
“Help me! Please, guys… It’s got me!”
Simon jumped to his feet, tore the suit coat from around his waist, and darted forward—naked. At the same time, McCann charged the second tentacle. He shouted nonsensically, brandishing the butcher knife, and slashed at the intruder. The blade cut deep into the flesh. Blood the color of India ink flowed from the wound. The appendage recoiled, whipping back and forth in the air as if frenzied. Then it lashed out again, going directly for McCann. The crazed sailor attacked a second time, plunging the knife deep into the tentacle. Grinning, he twisted the blade with both hands and then yanked it free. Black fluid splashed his hands and face. The second tentacle retreated back into the rain.
Outside, the creature moaned. The sound reminded Gail of the cries whales made in the documentaries she’d seen on television. She tried to get her fingers beneath the tentacle and pry it free, but the monster was too strong. It burrowed deeper beneath her pants leg, moving up toward her knee. She noticed a small trickle of blood on her calf and wondered where it had come from. Gail slid another few feet, and found herself teetering at the edge.
“Grab my hand,” Simon shouted, reaching for her.
Gail stretched her arm, and Simon’s hand encircled her. His touch was immediately reassuring, and despite her immediate peril, she felt the panic leave her. Simon braced his feet and tried pulling her backward, but the monster yanked harder, engaging him in a game of tug-of-war. Gail shrieked.
“McCann,” Simon yelled. “Mr. Novak. Take her!”
The two men rushed forward and grabbed Gail’s arms. Grimacing, Simon pulled the suit coat over his hands and arms, and then grabbed the tentacle around her leg. He muttered something in a language that Gail didn’t recognize. There was a crackling sound, and the air suddenly smelled of grilled fish. Then the tentacle uncoiled, freeing her.
“Pull her out of the way,” Simon ordered.
McCann and Novak helped Gail to her feet, and the three of them retreated to the far wall, while Simon knelt and dipped his fingers in a pool of the creature’s blood. He still used the suit coat as a makeshift glove, keeping the fabric between his skin and the beast’s fluids.
“Well done, shedding our opponent’s blood, Mr. McCann. This will prove useful.”
McCann nodded. “Whatever you say, Simon.”
“Indeed. It’s not whatever, I say, though. What I say next must be very specific.”
He moved to the opening and began chanting. Again, Gail tried to identify the language, but she couldn’t. As he spoke, Simon hurriedly painted symbols on the walls, using the monster’s blood as ink. Outside, the creature raged. Then, with a mighty splash, it vanished beneath the waves. Panting, Simon whipped his wet bangs from his eyes, looked at them, and grinned.
“It won’t bother us anymore.”
“I’ve gotta tell you,” Novak said, “that was some Gandalf-style shit, Simon. What did you do?”
“I prevented it from crossing the threshold. It can’t harm us or the building. The same can’t be said of its brethren, however, so I suggest that we spend the rest of the night in one of the other rooms. Agreed?”
The three of them nodded. Then they started down the hall. Gail had only taken three steps when her vision began to blur. She felt Novak grip her arm. He said something to her, but his voice was muted and she couldn’t hear him.
