pipeline one day-it would take a circus trick better than anything he had landed on his board. The half-baked plan sprouted from his brain in a flash. Aaron knew that if he wiped out, he wouldn’t paddle back ashore from this one.
Accelerating to 40 miles per hour, he closed the distance on the mutant. The creature cracked its massive jaws open and wiggled a purple tongue that clamored for a taste of his innards. Aaron steered the ship to the right so hard that it felt like someone had slammed on the brakes. Except watercrafts weren’t built like cars. The skiff tipped over on its way to capsizing. Aaron leapt off the tail end of the boat. As he flew through the air in his scuba gear, the momentum carried him roughly in the direction of the dock. With a quick glance back, he saw the horse legs flatten the steering console that he had stood behind a second ago. The mutant tore through his boat, but the craft carried out a crucial final mission by knocking the hunter away from its real target.
Aaron splashed chest down in the acidic water. So much for being like007 and landing on the dock with a martini in hand, he thought. His head bounced off the strange glassy surface on the bottom of the lagoon so hard that it cracked his face shield. Aaron stood up in the waist-high water before anything nasty penetrated his mask. He had overshot the dock, but he stood as close to the wall of stones lining the shore as he did to the pier. Seeing that the wood pillars were going crooked as the acid ate away at their bases, he chose the shore. Aaron prayed that the acid wouldn’t devour all of Merritt Island too.
When Aaron lifted his left foot up, it stung like a bitch. He hoisted it out of the water and bent it across his waist so he could see his heel. His wetsuit had torn there. The acid hadn’t broken his skin, but it had burned it red.
“Not much further,” Aaron muttered as he hopped on one leg across the slippery glass through the shallows. He moved a handful of inches at a time. If he put his left foot back in the water and toughed it out, he could reach shore in seven seconds. The vivid memory of Swartzman’s raw muscle, and bones boiling and his head falling off his body on its way to the worm-like colony kept Aaron’s exposed foot well above water.
He heard a burst of water behind him. Without wasting time turning around, Aaron grimaced and plunged his exposed foot into the water. The acid scorched his heel. It felt as if he were wearing a red-hot skillet on his foot. As long as it didn’t burn though his skin and give the microscopic invaders an opening, he might make it. Something started threshing through the water at his back.
In a few long bounds, Aaron reached the wall of stones lining the shore. He threw his exposed foot atop the barrier first. It throbbed as he pulled himself onto the rocks, and rolled onto the grassy shoulder along the road. He wiped his foot dry on the grass, but even that didn’t dull the burn. He ditched his scuba mask and tank. Before he could examine his heel, Aaron heard something smack the stone wall. Scooting back toward the road and taking sight of it, he saw milk white hands that didn’t belong to any true human.
The dolphin flopped ashore under the strength of the arms welded on its torso. It flashed its jagged teeth at Aaron. Forgetting his throbbing heel for the moment, Aaron leapt to his feet and scurried backward. He didn’t understand why a dolphin would pursue him on land until it curved its tail underneath it so that its body formed a “C”. Then it posted its arms before it. The mutant resembled a backwards tricycle. Crawling with its arms and scooting on its tail, the dolphin made right for Aaron.
He turned and ran down the street. Or he tried, at least. With his heel in such pain that he couldn’t set it down on the sun-baked asphalt, his left foot helped him as much as a peg leg. Frantically hobbling along, Aaron knew he could run ten times faster when healthy. He had two-thirds of a mile to go before he reached the bridge. He must have been right about the yuppies abandoning their waterfront homes, because he didn’t see a single car in the driveways. No one would bail him out with a rifle blast this time.
He peeked over his shoulder, and didn’t feel all that good about what he saw: a huge set of enhanced dolphin jaws closing in on him. Even though it walked like a three-legged dog, the mutant still had a beat on him. And if he didn’t hurry it up, another one of its buddies might show up and split the meal.
Screw the pain, he thought. Aaron shifted into a full sprint. Every time his exposed heel struck the hot pavement, the agony shot up his leg. He struggled to stay upright. He made it past two houses before he couldn’t take it any longer. Aaron settled for hobbling and knowing that he had bought a little more time. Then he caught sight of something awesome in one of the yuppies’ yards. He took back everything bad he ever said about them.
Aaron scooped up the skateboard, set it in the street and hopped on. He only needed one good foot on there. Aaron sped away from the lumbering dolphin. Normally, he would have grinned and exclaimed something like, “Shredding!” but Aaron found no reason for celebration.
He couldn’t run forever-not on a strip of land about a mile wide with a bridge over the deadly water separating him from the mainland. At least he still had a sliver of hope. Swartzman had nothing, thanks to him.
Chapter 42
The wind whipping across the balcony of the hotel’s sixteenth floor swept through Moni’s braids so that they bounced against her back and chest. Clutching Mariella’s hand as the little one stood beside her on the top floor of the barrier island’s tallest hotel, Moni didn’t worry about the wind pulling her woven braids loose. The scene unfolding on the lagoon below her captivated every corner of her mind.
The water churned like a boiling kettle of soup. On both shores, the mangroves and docks that had rested in the lagoon were withering and melting like sticks of butter. The color faded from yellowish green to translucent yellow. She thought she could see the lagoon bottom in the shallows, but that couldn’t have been right. It looked too smooth and glassy.
Mariella’s people were doing this. They had started building their home. Soon it would host the rebirth.
But at what cost, Moni wondered. Before she could elaborate on that thought, a wave of newly-acquired memories engulfed her mind. She saw gleaming cities in perfectly clear seas. The structures were of flesh and metal. They moved in seamless harmony as they shuffled their inhabitants around. Moni could barely make out the creatures. She only saw purple dots from that high a vantage point. They flowed as elegantly as the notes of a symphony. A small slice of that world would do wonders on earth.
When the images faded, she gazed at the girl who had given them to her. The faint purple glimmer in Mariella’s eyes no longer terrified her. It was beautiful. Now she had met the real girl that she loved.
“I’ll bring your home back, baby. A lot of people won’t understand what you’re doing, but I’ll tell them you don’t mean them any harm. I don’t know if they’ll listen to me, but I’ll tell them.”
Moni knew that Sneed wouldn’t listen. That’s why she didn’t answer his fourteen calls to her cell phone. It didn’t matter what he told her. He hated black people, purple people, and anything he didn’t understand. She wouldn’t let megalomaniacs like him demean her anymore.
When her father called, she answered the phone immediately.
“Hi dad. Almost here?”
“Are you serious?” Bo Williams asked. “The lagoon looks like piss today. And it smells worse.”
“Oh, we can see the water fine from here,” Moni said. Not only did she see the water, but through her binoculars she also saw her father’s rusty C amaro pull off the narrow strip of land just before the ramp to the Eau Gallie Causeway. It entered the parking lot, which granted access to the walkway underneath the bridge. He fished down there all the time. “I bet you won’t have a problem finding a parking space today.”
“You don’t say. Your undercover cop car is the only one out here,” he said. Moni grinned. She had parked her Taurus near the bridge and used her badge as leverage to hitchhike to the hotel. He got out of his car and circled around Moni’s battered ride. She had covered Darren’s bloodstains in the back seat with a blanket, but the exterior was still smashed up. “Shit, what happened to this clunker?”
Someone who drove a car that sounded like it had a trash compactor working under the hood didn’t have the right to call anything a clunker.
“I was playing bumper cars with the Lagoon Watcher. That was before I choked him out and brought him in.” Now he couldn’t needle her for dealing with only kiddie stuff. He would finally get the message that she had grown into a tough woman and no longer a girl cowering in the closet.
“Yeah, I saw his mug shot,” her father said. “I could have whooped his ass without getting a scratch. I heard
