The Tide: Breakwater (Tide Series Book 2) (13 page)

With another quick flick of his hand, he sent Renee and her squad toward the starboard galley door across the room. He led his squad toward the portside door. His fingers on the door handle, Dom waited for his squad to get in position near the entrance. Mirroring his actions, Renee caught his eye, and they both moved to swing the doors open.

Neither door budged.
Locked
, Dom figured.
So much for a quiet entrance.
He reared his leg back and slammed his boot on the door. The lock broke, and the door thumped against the interior bulkhead. The sound of Renee’s door bursting open followed an instant later. Their two squads filtered in. Without portholes, the only light penetrating the darkness came in from the dining room.

The Hunters clicked on their barrel-mounted flashlights. Swathes of white light reflected off industrial stainless steel appliances and pans hanging from the ceiling. Broken dishware and cooking utensils littered the floor. A small clatter made Dom swing his barrel toward the noise. His light shone on a large can of beans rolling with the ship’s gentle sway.

Dom ignored the can and led his squad down one side of the galley, separated from Renee’s squad by a long island of sinks and stovetops. As the squads snuck forward, a thump resounded from the large walk-in refrigerator at the end of the galley. It sounded again.
Thump, thump
. Muffled cries were audible from within. Dom’s pulse quickened, beating in his ears. He approached the walk-in, treading as lightly as possible. He took a deep breath and signaled Miguel and Hector to take up positions around the door.

With a steady hand, he slowly peeled the walk-in open so Miguel and Hector could get a better look. The door suddenly burst back, flinging Dom against the galley bulkhead. Screams echoed as something barreled out.

––––––––

“H
old your fire!” Miguel’s voice rang out.

Three shapes charged past, but without the aid of light, they tripped and fell over the mess of pots, pans, and dishware piled through the galley.

Renee lowered her rifle and took out a second flashlight, shining it on the trio. A man, woman, and child backed themselves against the door of a massive oven.

“It’s okay,” Dom said, holding up a hand.

Dom pushed himself up from where he’d fallen and steadied himself, one hand gripping a counter. “We’re here to help.”

The woman shook her head, long locks of hair waving. She shivered, as did the man and child. The cool air escaping the walk-in made Dom wonder if it was cold alone or fright that contributed to their shaking.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Miguel said, lowering his weapon.

“Who–” the man said, his teeth chattering. “Who are you?”

Dom made quick introductions while he shone the light over each of their faces. Their clothes were dirty, but none seemed hurt or injured. Their eyes were still clear of the bloodshot sclera characteristic of the Oni Agent, and their nails were free from the yellow growths signifying an early infection.

“Jenna, Andris, escort them outside,” Dom ordered.

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Jenna shot him a thumbs up, and Andris stepped over a sideways serving cart toward the family.

“Before you all go,” Dom started, “can you tell me where you saw any of the—” He fumbled for words, unsure if they’d seen Skulls or just people who’d only recently been turned by the Oni agent. “Anyone acting overly aggressive?”

“You mean the cannibals?” the woman asked.

“Right,” Dom said. “Anyone like that.”

She pointed out the exit doors nearest the walk-in refrigerator. “That way, mostly.” She nodded to indicate the doors on the opposite end of the galley that led to the dining room. “We tried to escape, but one of them cornered us down here. We couldn’t get away, so we holed up in there.”

“Okay, thank you,” Dom said. He scanned the walk-in to ensure no one—or nothing—else lay inside, and then turned back to the family. “Do you know where any other survivors might be?”

The man shook his head solemnly.

“Go warm yourselves up outside, away from this place.”

Jenna and Andris led the family out of the galley and into the dining room.

“They said they saw one down here,” Meredith said, “but where the hell did it go? I didn’t think Skulls were too bright.”

The Hunters played their lights around the galley.

“There,” Hector said. His barrel-mounted flashlight illuminated an open ventilation shaft near the top of one wall. Its grating had fallen to the floor. It was wide enough for a thin individual to slip through. He pointed toward scratches along the metal lip. “Something climbed in.”

Miguel shone his flashlight into the recesses of the shaft, but the beam of light revealed only the metal ribs of the empty passage. After a little under a minute, Jenna and Andris returned and reported they’d delivered the family safely outside.

“Time to go up,” Dom said, moving toward the end of the galley. “If Skulls are in the ventilation shafts, keep your eyes open.”

A set of swinging double doors next to the walk-in each contained a round porthole. Like the galley, the space beyond the doors was bathed in darkness. Dom shone his light through to reveal a black steel staircase going up to the next deck.

“Ready?” He asked the Hunters.

They nodded in unison.

He nudged one of the doors to make sure it was unlocked. It gave way with the gentle push, and Dom shot another quick hand signal. With his shoulder, he leaned into the door and shoved through. He quickly moved to a corner in the stairwell as the others poured out and took up positions.

Waiting with bated breath, he listened for any growls, cries, or scratching claws, but no sounds gave away the presence of any Skulls. The flashlight beams from the Hunters cast haunting shadows against the bulkhead.

Dom gestured for Renee to take point.

She placed a boot on the first step and played the barrel of her gun up, directing the flashlight toward the next deck. “No contacts.” She started up the stairs.

The other Hunters lined up behind her, rifles at the ready. They crept up to the next landing. Once there, Dom shone his flashlight through the small porthole in the door. The meager beam reflected off a stainless steel table and whitewashed tile floors. Two sinks and a soda fountain were on a counter that glinted as the light played across it.

“Looks like a food staging area or something for the mid-deck dining room,” Dom whispered. He rotated the flashlight beam to scan every corner before moving in. “I don’t see—”

A hand slapped across the glass, its fingers leaving a trail of blood. A croaking, gurgling sound escaped from under the door.

“What the fuck?” Renee said.

Meredith readjusted her rifle against her shoulder. “That doesn’t sound like the Skulls I’m used to.”

“Could be an injured passenger,” Dom said. “Cover me.”

Dom pushed on the door, but the body the hand belonged to blocked it from opening all the way. He slipped through the crack and aimed his flashlight at the person. The light illuminated her bloodstained face. Her mouth opened and closed, blood bubbling and popping from it as the gargling continued.

“Holy shit,” Miguel said, sliding in after Dom. Meredith and the other Hunters filled up the rest of the food staging area and secured the next set of doors.

“The smell...” Jenna gagged.

Dom knelt next to the woman. He played the light across the rest of her body. What he saw made him stagger. “Fuck.”

There was hardly anything left below her torso. Her left leg was nothing but ribbons of flesh. Her right leg, apparently still strong enough to stand on, was covered in dried blood and the scratch marks characteristic of a Skull attack. One arm hung limp by her side, chunks of flesh gnawed to the bone. The woman reached out with her one good arm and dragged herself up by lacing her fingers into the door handle. Her body shook with the effort to stand. Her nails, long and talon-like, clicked against the metal, and bone-like spikes burst from her skin near her elbow.

“She’s a goddamn Skull,” Renee said. She leveled her rifle at the woman’s face.

Lurching forward, the Skull fell and crashed against the floor. She tried to rise again, lashing out toward Dom. He stepped back and, with one hand, pushed Renee’s barrel down. “No firing. We don’t know what else is out there.”

Slinging his SCAR-H over his shoulder, he drew a knife from the sheath strapped to his thigh. He bent next to the woman, and her bloodshot eyes locked with his. He expected to see hate and anger radiating from her pupils, but he instead saw only a sad, desperate hunger. Animalistic instinct, nothing more.

With a quick flick of his blade, he slit her carotid, and she slumped backward. Blood pumped from the severed artery, spilling across the floor and adding to the already strong ferrous scent and odor of decay permeating the space. Her arm shot out in one final attempt to reach her prey. But Dom merely stepped back again and watched the life flow from the cruel atrocity that had once been a human being.

“Good lord,” Andris said, his Eastern European accent coming in strong. “Skull or not, how was she even alive?”

Meredith pointed to the tourniquets near her shredded appendages. “Looks like someone tried to help her after she was attacked.”

“Man, she wasn’t coming back from that,” Miguel said.

Dom stepped over the remains of the Skull and held up a fist for silence. "We're moving." He edged across the food staging area toward another set of doors. He nudged one open. The room beyond was bathed in darkness. In an effort to shield themselves from the Skulls, the crew must have dropped the curtains on the windows. Dom mentally commended the crew member who had thought to cut off the Skulls’ line of sight.

“Flashlights off. NVGs on,” he said in a low voice.

His vision went dark for a moment until the NVGs clicked into place. The food staging area lit up in a sea of blacks and greens. He glanced at his Hunters, who gazed back at him with their own NVGs secured and IR markers shining. They were all tensed with weapons at the ready. He pointed to Miguel to take point. The Hunter crept up to the door. Dom held up three fingers and counted down.

When his last finger curled toward his palms, Dom followed Miguel out through the door. The odor of rotten meat mixed with a coppery scent threatened to overwhelm his senses. His pulse throbbed in his ears, and he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. Pools of blood seemed to shimmer through his NVG’s lenses between the scattered remains of what once must've been humans. A man on the floor nearest Dom was now nothing more than a length of vertebrae, a fractured skull, and the torn remains of a tuxedo. A wall of tipped-over tables, broken dishware, and jumbled chairs blocked the path toward a wide dance floor.

Fuck
, Dom thought. Bodies filled the dance floor. No, it would be generous to even call them bodies. Much like the remnants of the man nearest him, what remained of the cruise ship passengers was now nothing more than broken and pitted bones, chewed on and discarded by the Skulls.

The sounds of scraping and scratching caused Dom to swivel. He pressed the stock of his rifle to his shoulder and peered down the sights. Low growls and the sounds of flesh smacking flesh echoed across the macabre dance floor. A pack of Skulls jostled with each other, fighting to be the first to get at something at the opposite end of the room. Between their bodies, Dom could make out a door. It shook each time the Skulls threw themselves at it. There must have been someone behind it. Maybe more survivors. He used two fingers to point to his eyes, then at the half-dozen Skulls climbing over each other and grunting. The rest of the Hunters nodded and trained their gun barrels on the pack.

If there were survivors beyond the door, Dom didn't want to unwittingly take them out with a stray bullet. He signaled for the team to spread out in two clusters. Miguel, Jenna, and Andris took starboard while Dom, Meredith, Jenna, and Hector took port.

They crept along the sides of the room until they established clear firing lanes. Making a fist, Dom held up a hand and approached a column near an overturned dining table. The other Hunters followed.

The clatter of the Skulls crashing at the door and the scratch of their bony claws against the walls echoed throughout the room. The beasts continued to snarl and shove each other as they beat at the door. The Oni Agent had left its inevitable mark on them, evidenced by the coils of bony plates protecting their vital organs and the hooked claws growing from their fingers.

Dom prayed someone beyond that door was still alive. Whoever had barricaded themselves behind it was hopefully in better shape than the shredded corpses scattered around the dance floor.

As Dom shouldered his rifle, the Hunters mirrored his movements. Their labored breaths echoed over his comm link. He imagined the rivulets of nervous sweat streaming down their foreheads under their helmets and behind their NVGs. He held up three fingers against the forestock of his rifle. It was an almost imperceptible gesture, but the Hunters were well trained. He could practically feel their gazes as he counted down.

Three.

The others shouldered their rifles.

Two
.

Dom inhaled sharply.

O—

The loud crash of broken ceramic sounded behind them before they even got a shot off. Several busted chairs flew as a beastly shape hurtled through the shadows toward the Hunters. Its overgrown shoulder blades stuck out like shark’s fins. And this shark was headed straight toward live meat.

Another burst of clattering dishware and crumpling tables echoed as a second, then a third and fourth Skull fell from a broken tile in the ceiling. The four Skulls charged, and the half-dozen Skulls that had been clamoring at the door on the other side of the ballroom swiveled. Each bellowed, their earsplitting voices a chorus straight from the darkest of hells.

Dom aimed at the first Skull barreling toward him and squeezed his trigger. He missed. The beast ducked low, and the bullets tore into a table instead, sending a shower of splinters into the air. The Skull disappeared beyond a bar near the shattered dining furniture. Another salvo erupted from Dom’s weapon, joining the bark of rifles and the screams of Skulls. The rounds smashed into the few bottles of liquor still remaining. Glass shards exploded, and alcohol poured from the shelves.