But Giona’s stomach turned over as she realized the truth. With a violent heave, she leaned over and vomited, filling her mouth with the acrid flavor of fish guts and bile. She sobbed between heaves. The memories of each and every argument she’d held with herself, with her inner voice, over the past few months returned with a fury. It had asked her to do something. Over and over, but she’d resisted, fought it, denied it every time. It was just her inner monologue, her devil’s advocate, right?
No.
Giona’s thoughts came clear and quick. She’d either gone totally insane or had been receiving direction from God for the past few months and doing her best to ignore it. Though it seemed likely, Giona didn’t want to think she was insane. So she decided to believe, at least for the moment, that the voice inside her head was God.
“So, I’m supposed to trust you- that you know the future. You know the outcome, and for some reason you want me, or my father, to do what you’ve been telling me. Is that it?”
There was no reply. She already knew the answer. The voice had been fighting with her about one single subject since she’d first heard it.
“Fine. Okay? Are you happy? I’ll tell my dad I don’t want to move, but that’s not going to change anything. Especially when I’m stuck in here! The house was sold, remember? We have to move anyway. So all this,” she waved her hands around at the large body in which she was trapped, “is a little too much, a little too late.”
She huffed. “But I’ll tell him.”
Giona closed her eyes to the darkness and let out a long deep breath. She was done. She had nothing more to say to a God-voice and never wanted to hear it again. Instead, she focused on the heavy beat of the creature’s heart, allowing it to lull her toward sleep like a hypnotist’s watch. Thump-thump, thump-thump, BOOM!
Giona sat up straight, her body rigid, her mind spinning. They were under attack again. A quiver of flesh rolled past her. The beast rippled with pain, she could feel it. With a sudden twist of opinion she’d never forget, a new and unexpected emotion swept through her-compassion. She lay down flat and slapped the moist flesh beneath her with her hands. “Go, go, go!” She urged the beast as though it were a horse, and whether by coincidence or in response, the beast reacted.
The walls of the chamber closed in as unseen muscles contracted and the rapid undulations became large pulses of energy. Giona didn’t resist as her body became unable to move and the rising and falling of her chest was restricted. As before, breathing became difficult, and colored spots danced in her vision. She knew she’d pass out soon, but she also knew that this monster, her protector, would keep her safe.
Go, she willed it. Fight!
51
The Titan
Atticus saw everything at once; the helicopter cutting through the blue sky, the big gun, waiting to fire out at the ocean, the sonar screen revealing the oceanic world beneath the Titan, Remus standing above the still forms of Andrea and O’Shea, and Trevor’s blue face, shaking with fear.
But there was nothing he could do. Trevor dropped to the floor, released from Atticus’s grip. He writhed, gasping for air. As his lungs filled, his body slowed, until at last he was lying on his back, breathing steadily. Then he stood, straightened his shirt, and smiled.
“Dear God, that was the closest I’ve been to death,” Trevor said as he bent over and picked up the UMP. He then retrieved the spare magazines from Atticus’s pockets and reloaded the weapon. “Wouldn’t want to run out of bullets, now would I?”
As Trevor chuckled, Atticus stared at him with rage, contempt, and total disbelief. He’d seen men come close to dying, some not as close as Trevor just then, and even the most battle-hardened of them had been shaken-up by the event. Trevor actually seemed to have enjoyed his brush with the Grim Reaper.
“You’re insane,” Atticus said.
Trevor guffawed. “No, just very, very bored. I must admit you’ve done a wonderful job of alleviating my boredom. I do believe these memories will entertain me for the remainder of my life, but I’m afraid I can’t risk keeping you around any longer, lest you succeed in ending my life early.”
Trevor picked up the CB and spoke to the crew. “Press the attack. No matter what happens. Kill the beast.”
Trevor dropped the CB and motioned Atticus to the door. “Remus, be a dear and carry them to the main deck.” Trevor pointed at Andrea and O’Shea. “I don’t want to make more of a mess of my ship than has already been made.”
Remus picked up O’Shea and Andrea, throwing them over his shoulders. He turned and headed down the stairs to the main deck. Trevor shoved Atticus from behind with the UMP. He fought the urge to twist around and break Trevor’s neck, but he knew Andrea’s and O’Shea’s fates would be sealed by the act. The time to act would arrive soon enough. A quick glance at the sonar screen before leaving the bridge confirmed that much.
Once on deck, Remus slapped Andrea and O’Shea until they woke up. He stood them next to each other along the starboard rail. They were meant to be shot so their bodies would fall overboard, where Laurel would tear them to pieces. Atticus helped Andrea stay on her feet. He leaned into her, and over the sound of the roiling bubbles pushed to the surface by the exploding depth charges below, whispered, “It’ll be okay.”
She looked at him through blood-encrusted eyes. One was swelling. A purple bruise glowed on her cheek. Her expression showed defeat. Without saying a word, she looked into Atticus’s eye and said good-bye.
He wasn’t listening.
“Can you move,” he asked, her blowing hair masking the movement of his lips.
She nodded slightly. “Brace yourself.”
They both clung to the rail.
“I should have known your conscience would betray me eventually,” Trevor said to O’Shea.
“May God forgive you,” O’Shea replied. He stood clutching his side. His pain was obvious, but he handled it well. And he was continuing his priest routine, perhaps hoping the superstitious Trevor would spare his life.
“Ah, the good priest until the end,” Trevor said. “I suppose I’ll have to replace you after today, eh?”
Trevor took aim with the UMP and Remus followed suit with the MP5-an old-fashioned firing squad. Not wanting to miss out on a vintage-movie cliche, Trevor added. “Any last words?”
Atticus raised his hand.
Trevor laughed. “I wasn’t serious.”
“Your neck is bruising.”
Trevor looked at Atticus with a queer gaze. He reached up and touched his neck, where Atticus had strangled him. He winced at the touch.
“I’m going to finish it,” Atticus said with a smile.
“Right then,” Trevor said, taking aim again. “And I’m the one who’s insane.”
As Trevor pulled the trigger, the entire deck of the Titan lurched upward. A thunderous crack sounded from below. Bullets sliced through the open sky as Remus’s and Trevor’s weapons jerked up. The ship settled back down in the water as a warning Klaxon sounded.
Atticus and Andrea charged forward-Atticus to Remus, Andrea to Trevor. O’Shea had disappeared.
Atticus drove his shoulder into Remus’s gut, and the two of them sprawled to the deck, sending the MP5 skittering away. Remus, being the larger, stronger, and far less injured of the two, recovered quickly and tossed Atticus aside. The Hawaiian giant gained his feet and reached for Atticus, who regained his footing just as the first in a series of punches and kicks flew at him from every direction. He managed to block or evade the majority of them, but was driven back with each blow, shuffling his bleeding bare feet slick on the wooden deck.
As he grew weary, his foot slipped, and he fell to his back. Remus pounced, slamming down on Atticus and wrapping his legs around one of Atticus’s arms and both his legs. Pinned, with only one arm free, Atticus took a swing and connected with Remus’s stone jaw. But the massive man was in a frenzy and hardly felt the blow. Remus grabbed Atticus’s free arm and pinned it to the deck. He slammed his other fist into Atticus’s head. After a volley of punches, a massive explosion above them sent a stab of pain through their ears.
The main cannon had fired, no more than fifteen feet above their heads.
