Chapter Fourteen: Fire, Knife, and Fang

"To ensure that sufficient power remains for core testing protocols, all safety devices have been disabled. The Enrichment Center respects your right to have questions or concerns about this policy."

-PA System Portal 2

            As she had instructed him, Hendricks woke Helen up after about an hour and took his own nap. In the meantime, he had raided the vending machines, so they both were finally able to eat something. Chips and candy bars weren’t exactly what they wanted after long hours of running, fighting, and swimming, but they were considerably better than nothing. While they ate, Helen told Hendricks about her latest dream.

            “Well,” said Hendricks, trying to find a silver lining. “At least we won’t run into Charles.”

            “Probably,” said Helen. “But ruthless drug-dealers with assault rifles aren’t much better.”

            “Yeah, but at least they can die,” Hendricks pointed out. “Or, probably; you never know here, do you?”

            “You’re not making things sound any better,” said Helen, though with a small laugh.

            “Sorry, I’m doing my best,” he said. “So, where is this smelting plant thing?”

             Helen told him what the Dog had told her.

            “Alright,” he said. “Uh, you know we probably shouldn’t stay here long, then.”

            “I know,” she said. “We should go now.”

            But they didn’t. They just sat there for a long time and didn’t move. Every now and then, one of them would say that they really must get going, but somehow it seemed very difficult. This little room was the first actually safe place they had been in for a long time and they were very reluctant to leave it. It wasn’t until Hendricks actually fell asleep again and slumped over the table that Helen sprang up and insisted they go. So they crammed their pockets with as many snacks and drinks as they could and abandoned their refuge. 

            Their journey to the smelting plant, as the Dog had instructed, was longer than they had hoped it would be, but uneventful. They didn’t encounter anything, human, animal or otherwise along the way.

            As they approached the plant, the corridor became darker and dirtier, and the walls changed from concrete to metal, then to very badly rusted metal, until finally it ended abruptly in a heavy iron door.

            When they reached that door they stopped. It was larger and seemed somehow more threatening than any they had yet seen. It was as though the door was frowning at them, daring them to enter within. Unconsciously, their hands met and clasped.

            They looked at each other.

            “Well…

            “Yeah…”

            They moved forward and pulled open the door.

             It was as though they had just walked into a furnace. The heat washed over them like water as they stepped over the threshold. The place they now found themselves in was very dim, save for the flashes of fire that went up from somewhere to their right and a soft, red glow coming from an enormous basin suspended high up above them. It was very loud; evidently the disaster and the subsequent power-failure hadn’t shut this place down. The rhythmic pounding of pistons, the hiss of sparks, and every few minutes a harsh, blaring klaxon, followed by a roaring noise like the incoming sea all smote upon their ears.

            From a purely physical standpoint, it was the most uncomfortable place that either of them had ever been in. It seemed to attack all their senses at once. As their eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, they took in more of their surroundings. The plant seemed to be largely vertical; it wasn’t very far from where they stood to the opposite wall, but over their heads the room kept climbing higher and higher. Cranes were moving, though without their operators they were trapped in a cycle of simply moving up and down. Metal stairs and catwalks filled the air and looped back and forth against the walls like climbing plants.

            Helen and Hendricks stood just over the threshold, taking all of this in. They still gripped each other’s hands, and Hendricks had taken out his crowbar. After a few moments, as though reaching some silent agreement, they started forward into the plant. They moved quickly; neither had any desire to remain long in this place.

            Taking the first steps they found, they began to climb up onto the catwalks. First one flight, then along the wall, than another flight, then out into the middle of the room.

            It was when they arrived at the bottom of the third flight of steps that they ran into trouble.

            Hendricks had just set his foot on the bottommost stair and, as one does on steps, looked up. He froze. There was someone at the top of the stairs. Someone whose features he couldn’t see, but whose stocky, powerful outline was horribly familiar.

            “Go back!” Hendricks shouted. “Run for it!”

            Helen needed only one glance to see what Hendricks meant and the two of them raced back the way they had came while Hank Voyeur came stomping down the steps after them. As before, he never moved at more than a brisk walk, but this nevertheless allowed him to catch up with them on the middle of the lowest catwalk.

            Hank took a swipe at Hendricks’s back, missed, and sliced through the railing. He swung again, a powerful overhead attack which again just barely missed, but which cut deep into the catwalk, rocking the whole structure. Hendricks and Helen stumbled and Hank swung a third time. This time, though he again missed his target, he cut straight through the walkway.     

            It collapsed inward like an upside-down drawbridge, dumping all three of them ten feet onto the hard floor below.

            Hendricks felt all the wind rush from his lungs as he struck the concrete. Blood filled his mouth from a cut lip, but he seemed otherwise unharmed. Fighting for air, he tried to push himself up, but Hank was on his feet first. He lunged forward and stabbed straight down at Hendricks, who managed to roll aside just in time. Hank’s blade, as it had in the warehouse, sank deep into the concrete and stuck there.

            Seizing his chance, Hendricks hauled Helen to her feet and began to run; where they were going, he had no idea, he just wanted to put some distance between them and Hank. He even had a vague notion of fleeing back into the corridor and trying to find some other way upwards, but any notion of returning the way they had come were dashed the moment he turned his eyes to the door.

            The Bore Worm was hanging, like a monstrous earwig, on the wall right above the door, its hideous, pale head turned upward, as though trying to find its prey through the darkness and smoke. Its obscene groans added a new layer of agony to the endless pounding and hissing and roaring of that chamber.

            The worm slid down into the chamber, still turning its club-like head this way and that. Helen and Hendricks slowly backed away from it, forgetting, for a second, that it wasn’t the only threat in that room.

            Hank reminded them of his presence by aiming a blow at them that, by sheer good luck, struck against a thick support beam, giving them the chance to duck and run before he could extract it again.

            But now the Bore Worm was aware of their presence. Its mouth opened wide and its sticky tentacles came wriggling out towards the three of them.

            Helen and Hendricks retreated, but Hank, heedless of the danger, advanced, slashing at the tentacles. He cut off the end of one, but half-a-dozen more lashed forward and entwined him, pinning his arms and legs to his sides. Helen and Hendricks, crouching behind a big, empty concrete basin, watched in horror as he was dragged, struggling and helpless, towards the hideous maw. For a second, Hendricks even felt an urge to try to help him, but he remembered what Dr. Nelson had said: Hank wasn’t really human anymore. He had already died long ago.

            Hank was drawn into the Bore Worm’s mouth feet first. The petal-like jaws folded shut upon his legs, allowing, Hendricks imagined, the razor-sharp teeth to strip his flesh as they drew him further in. Even though he doubted whether Hank could actually feel pain, let alone fear, Hendricks found it horrific to watch.

            Hank’s helmeted head vanished into the worm’s mouth. A moment later, the monster opened its now-empty maw again, as though to demonstrate that he was really gone.

            Helen made a noise of horror and disgust that well mirrored Hendricks’s own feelings. But they didn’t have time to dwell on it; the worm, having finished off Hank, was now moving in their direction. They backed away, found the rear wall, and ran along it. The worm gave a particularly loud groan and slithered after them, its mouth opening wide, its tentacles writhing out after them…

Suddenly, the Bore Worm began to shriek and convulse violently, thrashing about as though in unbearable agony. Helen and Hendricks stopped and turned back in shock. They had about five seconds of bewildered horror before a long, curved blade burst from the worm’s side, unleashing a stream of thick, pale mucus. A moment later, Hank’s head, helmet and all, was forcing itself outward.

            They had thought that the Bore Worm had killed Hank. Instead, Hank was now killing the Bore Worm.

            When he had pulled himself about half-way out of the writhing, shrieking worm, Hank began to stab downward repeatedly. The worm continued to shriek and twitch, but in a much weaker form. And still Hank stabbed it. The worm’s mucus-like blood was now coating the floor, spreading outwards in an evil-smelling pool.

            Hank kept stabbing the worm until it had been clearly dead for several minutes. Then he paused to check his work, and having apparently satisfied himself that it wasn’t going to get up again he cut his way free from its body and stepped out into the mucus pool.

            Helen and Hendricks had been so transfixed by the grotesque scene that they hadn’t thought to run. Now, as Hank came slipping and sliding towards them, they realized their mistake.

            They blundered through the gloom, Hank stomping after them. Neither had any idea where they could run to, or even where they were in the plant at that point. Hank was gaining on them; not only was he still inexplicably faster than they were, but he was maneuvering through obstacles so easily that Hendricks was beginning to suspect he could see in the dark.

            Finally they came to what seemed to be an open space and had a chance to increase their lead. Just as they were about to break into a run, the klaxon they had heard when they first entered (which had been sounding periodically all this time) suddenly blared out, louder than ever, so that they had to cover their ears. A second later, an immense column of fire shot across their path barely ten feet in front of them. The heat and the force of the thing was so great that their faces and hands stung as though from a physical blow. In the flash of light it brought, they saw that it was running down an enormous pipe, a section of which was missing its top half, creating a kind of trench running between two huge tunnels.

            The fire took maybe five seconds to pass. Helen and Hendricks turned and tried to run parallel to the pipe, but they hit a wall almost immediately. Hank was almost on them, and now they were trapped with the wall behind them, the flame-pipe to their right, and a kind of fence or gateway to their left which they couldn’t see well enough to make out.

            Hank was bearing down on them, and Hendricks saw that there was only one way out. He went right, pulling Helen after him. Praying that the pipe was insulated enough to touch, he pushed Helen up the side. Apparently it was, because she was able to scramble up it with little difficulty. At the top she turned and gave Hendricks her hands, and as she walked down the other side pulled him up after her.

            Hank took a swipe at Hendricks’s legs that missed by inches. He seemed to consider the pipe, then decided against it and strode around to attack them through the trench.

            Hendricks looked around him. It was too dark to be sure, but he couldn’t see any obvious ways to escape; the flame-pipe was set close to the right-hand wall, and there were no doors.

            He tried to think; if they climbed back over the pipe, Hank would simply follow them and they’d be in the same position, and they could keep it up forever; sooner or later one of them would trip and Hank would get them.

All this flashed through his mind as Hank strode toward them, his eyes glaring furiously out of his mask, his blade rising…

            Then, just as he reached the middle of the trench, the klaxon blared again and they heard the roar of the approaching fire. Hank heard it too. He paused and looked down the tunnel, and the next second he vanished in the wall of flame.

            Whether he had been incinerated or merely blasted further down the tunnel, they neither knew nor wanted to find out. Quickly, they climbed back over the pipe and headed back to where they had started.

            The dead Bore-Worm still lay in a pool of its own fluids, and the catwalk hung uselessly.

            “Okay,” Helen gasped as they paused for breath. “Now what?”

            “I…I don’t know,” Hendricks admitted. “I don’t think that one staircase was the only way up, though. There’s…there’s gotta be another somewhere.

            “I wish we had some light,” she said.

            As a matter of fact, without either Hank or the Bore-Worm to distract them, it didn’t take them very long to find another flight of steps leading up into the winding catwalks. Thinking that this time, at least, they might escape without being attacked, they followed it upwards, always keeping their eyes peeled for any sign of danger.

            But they met nothing more troublesome than a wrong turn all their way up. The room rose three stories high, and when they finally reached the top they were winded. At least here there was some more light, mostly coming from the huge vat of molten steel that hung level with them over against the far wall.

            “There it is!” Hendricks gasped.

            The way out; the entrance to a corridor leading off of the balcony, was right in front of them across a straight walkway

            But as they towards it, Helen happened to glance down.

            “STOP!” she shrieked, seizing Hendricks’s hand and pulling him back a second before a stream of acid shot straight up and through the section of catwalk that he had just been about to step onto.

            Below them Python, coiled up on the lower balcony, hissed in frustration and took aim again, but Helen and Hendricks had already turned and were fleeing back down the way they came.

            “Where the hell did he come from?!” Hendricks yelled.

            “Doesn’t matter; he’s here now!” Helen shouted back.

            Python fired again, this time hitting the supports below them. The next thing Hendricks knew was a terrible sound of grinding metal, Helen screaming, and both of them falling straight down as the catwalk collapsed.   

            They landed painfully onto the walkway below, the bits of the one they had just been on crashing about them and tumbling passed. Hendricks took a second to contemplate their good fortune and clambered to his feet, feeling a set of bruises rising on his back.

            “Helen,” he gasped. “Are you alright?”

            “Ask me again in a minute,” she groaned, starting to rise to her feet. But then she suddenly seized him and pulled him down instead as Python took a third shot at them.

            The acid flew passed over their heads in a shallow arch and, as they watched in slow, horrified comprehension, struck the bottom of the basin. For a moment it hissed and ate its way through the thick metal, and then, all at once, the molten steel poured out as though from a faucet that had been turned all the way up. It tore through the lower catwalks, struck the floor below them with an evil hiss, and spread out into a pool.  

            “Come on!” Helen shouted, pulled Hendricks up. Python, apparently, was momentarily distracted by the surging pool of molten metal only thirty feet below him. He hissed angrily and began to climb.

            “He’ll be on us again in a minute,” Hendricks gasped.

            “How’re we going to get up there?” Helen said, pointing to the balcony ten feet above them. 

            Hendricks looked around. They had reached the far end of this walkway, almost directly below the balcony. Hanging about six feet away was a chain-link crane, which kept rising and falling in journeys of about twenty feet. 

            “Here!” said Hendricks, pointing to the crane. “Do you think you can catch that?”

            “No!” said Helen. “Do you?”

            Hendricks didn’t answer. He really didn’t think he could, but what choice did they have?

            He set his foot onto the railing, watched as the crane descended slowly, and then leapt out, clawing madly to find something to grab hold of. His hand found the chain and seized it, and he tried to contract his entire body onto that one spot.

            “Okay!” he said as soon as he felt sure he wasn’t going to slip off. “Now your turn!”

            “Hendricks, I can’t!” she replied.

            Behind them, Python was climbing upwards. In a second, he’d have a clear shot. The crane, meanwhile, was beginning to ascend again.

            Hendricks took a firmer grip on the chain and began to swing it back and forth.

            “Helen,” he called as he did so. “On the next swing, when it’s closest to you, jump, understand?”

            “Hendricks…”

            “Just do it!” he shouted. He had nearly reached her now.

            “Now!”

            Helen took a deep breath and jumped. She clawed madly, just as he had done…and missed.

            As she flew passed him, screaming at the top of her voice, Hendricks threw out a hand and grabbed her by her upper arm (which was the first thing he could reach). He would never have been able to hold her up, but he was able to stop her from going right passed the chain. She swung down, dropped out of his grip, and seized the chain with all four limbs at once.

            “Are you alright?” he called.

            She didn’t answer.

            The chain rose higher and higher, finally pausing near the ceiling. Hendricks saw the balcony they were aiming for approach, swung a few times to build up momentum, and jumped. He landed squarely on the solid concrete and turned around to seize the chain before Helen (who hadn’t moved an inch since catching the chain) was lowered back down to Python.

             “Helen!” he called. “Let go! It’s alright; we’re here!”

            She opened his eyes, staring at him with a wide, terrified expression. He didn’t think she had even understood.

            The chain was getting heavier as it descended, creating an ever-deepening dip. Hendricks pulled Helen over the balcony.

            “See?” he said. “Solid ground! Now let go!”

            She shut her eyes again and, as though it cost immense effort, unclenched one hand and threw it around his shoulders.

            “That’s it,” he said. “Now the rest…”

            She released the chain and instead clung to him as tightly as she had to it.

            Now Python was heading straight for them. Hendricks decided he didn’t have time to coax Helen off of himself. He took a deep breath and, carrying her as best as he could, he staggered to the doorway, threw it open, and rushed out through the narrow metal passage.

            The air felt wonderfully cool and soothing, but his muscles ached. He wasn’t an especially strong man. But he couldn’t stop. Any second Python would be at the door and after them.

            He turned a corner, and as he did so he heard a clang and a scream of rage, followed by an evil hiss. And he realized; the corridor he was running through was far too narrow for Python to fit through. They were safe.

Next Week:
Chapter Fifteen: The Fighting Escalates

Chapter Thirteen: A Short Break

“The very instant that I saw you, did

My heart fly to your service”

-Ferdinand, The Tempest

            The flooded corridor was, thankfully, not very long. They only had to force themselves to swim about fifty yards before they came to a short staircase leading up onto dry land. Relieved, thinking that finally they could rest for a moment, Hendricks shrugged off the air-tank and helped Helen limp up the stairs.

            For a few seconds, as they slowly emerged from the dank, filthy water, Helen and Hendricks were able to enjoy the ability to breathe freely and the relief of having escaped Nelson and his sharks. But it didn’t last long at all.

            When they were still about waist-deep in the water, they were both grabbed by rough, strong arms, which pulled them painfully off of the staircase and shoved them down onto the floor. Helen gasped in pain as she fell on her injured leg, and Hendricks looked around to see who their attackers were.

            They were in a wide, open space; like a kind of entrance hall. There were a couple hallways running off it and a large balcony overlooking them. Benches and potted plants almost gave it the appearance of a train terminal. Their captors were about a half-a-dozen men; all Hispanic by their appearance, all big, all wearing the same orange and brown uniforms, and all carrying AK-47s, which were all pointed at Helen and Hendricks.

            “Who are you?” barked a mustachioed man with a yellow design on his cap that seemed to mark him as the captain.

            “Uh, we’re…” Helen sputtered, trying to think.

            “I said who are you?” he snapped, giving her vicious kick to the ribs.

            “Hey! Leave her alone you bastard!” Hendricks snapped, trying to rise, but receiving a club from one of the rifles in return.

            “Shut up!” the captain snapped. “Answer the question!”

            “We’re…workers,” Helen gasped. “We were…below when…when it happened.”

            “What were you doing down there?” the captain demanded.

            “Working with…with Dr. Ted Nelson,” she said. “He…he has his own lab down there and…and he needed the extra hands.”

            The captain looked at her critically for a few moments, then lowered his weapon. The others did the same. Hendricks could hardly believe it; were they really going to be able to bluff their way out of this one?

            “I see,” the captain said. “Then it appears I was mistaken.”

            He held out his hand to Helen. She eyed it warily, but at his encouraging smile took it and allowed him to help her to her feet.

            The moment she stood up, the captain punched her hard in the stomach, dropping her to the ground again.

            “You lying bitch!” he snarled, pulling out a knife. “You think I am stupid, do you? You expect me to believe that that maniac would invite anyone other than that gorilla of his into his lab?”

            Helen couldn’t speak. It was all she could do not to throw up. Hendricks was holding her protectively and glaring at the captain.

            “But I think I know who you are,” said the captain excitedly, fingering his knife. “You are those two who caused all this mess, aren’t you?”

            “What do you mean we caused…” Hendricks began. He realized his mistake a second later.

            “Aha!” the captain laughed. “I knew it! And Mr. Simon said you must be dead. Well, won’t he be glad to hear I found you.”

            He nodded to his men and they grabbed Helen and Hendricks and shoved them roughly against the wall while the captain pulled out a radio.

            “Mr. Simon!” he said (he spoke Spanish, which meant that Hendricks didn’t understand anything that followed, though Helen did). “We’ve found the policeman and the girl.”

            “Really?” came Charles’s voice from the other end speaking the same language. “They’re alive? That is a surprise! Well, what are you waiting for? Shoot them. Now.”

            “Yes, sir,” said the captain. He hung up the radio and nod to his men. “Shoot him,” he said. “But not her. Not yet.”

            He grinned cruelly as he fingered his knife. Helen, who had been leaning on Hendricks this whole time because of her injured leg, clung to him more tightly.

            “But, sir,” said one of the guards. “Mr. Simon said to shoot them both right now.”

            “Oh, well,” said the captain. “As far as he’s concerned, we will. But, why waste such a fine specimen as her without enjoying it a little?”

            The men snickered to each other.

            “You two, get her,” he barked.  

            Helen had no time to think or to plan or to even to fully realize what was happening. Three of the guards raised their guns, two started toward her with evil looks, and then the captain was suddenly cut in half.

            It happened so suddenly that the other guards only noticed what had happened when they found themselves being coated in a fountain of the captain’s blood. They screamed and whirled around to see Boa emerging from the balcony overhead, hissing angrily. The guards opened fire, but their bullets merely glanced harmlessly off of her double-hard scales. 

            Her tail whipped through the air and sliced through three guards at once. The others tried to make a break for it. Helen and Hendricks imitated them, Hendricks supporting Helen as best he could. Boa – whether out of luck or simply because they had been shooting at her – followed the guards, which gave Helen and Hendricks enough time to get through a door, down another hallway, up a flight of stairs, and on and on until they simply collapsed from exhaustion.

            Neither spoke for a long time, they simply lay on the hallway floor, panting and sweating, each marveling that they could possibly be alive after everything they had been through. Finally, when they had gotten their breath back somewhat, Hendricks managed to gasp.

            “Best not…stay here. Should…keep moving.”

            Helen nodded and with his help managed to struggle to her feet. They walked on like that, her leaning on him and limping badly, he just barely managing to stay up as well, for what felt like a long time.

            They passed many doors, but most were locked. The ones that weren’t opened onto dark rooms of which they could discern neither the size nor the purpose. They always hurried on when they found these, since they didn’t know what might be lurking or sleeping in those shadows.

            Helen, for her part, was beginning to have trouble remembering a time that they weren’t walking through dim corridors, fearing pursuit or attack at every turn. It was as if this was all they had ever done or would ever do. She recalled how she had always thought Matoul had a dream-like feel to it. Now it still had that timeless, unreal feeling, but the dream had become a nightmare, one which she saw no hope at all of awakening from. For a fleeting second, she even wondered seriously whether they had indeed died already and this was Hell.  

            Finally, they came to a stairway that led to the next level. There was a door here standing slightly ajar. By some silent agreement, they stopped and Hendricks slowly pushed open the door and flicked the lights on.

They found themselves in a small room, with a pair of vending machines on the far wall, an old couch, and a couple tables. The sight of these prosaic, everyday objects had an oddly rejuvenative effect on the two of them. They suddenly shook off the dreamlike, exhausted fog they had been travelling in and felt as though they had suddenly woken up again. Hope and good-cheer returned to their hearts, not in great force, but enough to make them relax.

            “Looks like a break room,” Hendricks said. He turned to Helen. “You want to take a break?”

            “I thought you’d never ask,” she said and she limped over and sank down onto the couch.

            Hendricks pulled a chair from one of the tables and sat down on it. He laid his crowbar on the table, pulled out the flashlight, and checked it.

            “In case you were wondering,” he said gloomily. “This thing isn’t water-proof.”

            He threw it aside and massaged his aching head. Meanwhile Helen extracted the now-soaked towel from her pocket.

            “Well,” she said with a grimace. “Here goes…”

            “Hold on,” said Hendricks, getting up and walking over to her. “I think you’d better let me help.”

            She shrugged, nodded, took a deep breath, and pressed one of the Goop stains to her ankle. The next second, she had thrown the towel aside and was screaming in agony. She tried to clutch at her ankle, but Hendricks seized her wrists and forced them back. He held her tightly while she thrashed and screamed in unendurable pain for about ten seconds, then, as suddenly as it had begun, it ended.

            “Ho…holy…” she gasped.

            “I told you,” he said, letting go of her and picking up the towel very gingerly. “And now…”

            Gritting his teeth, Hendricks pressed the towel to his broke ribs.

            “You know,” he said, ten hideous seconds later as he tossed the now-empty towel aside. “I don’t think it should be possible to break the same bones twice in a twenty-four hour period.”

            “Yeah, well,” said Helen, leaning back on the couch. “’Possible’ isn’t what it used to be, is it?”

            Hendricks chuckled, hanging his head in weariness. “You can say that again.”

            Helen wrung out her wet hair onto the carpet. “Thank you, by the way.”

            Hendricks lifted his head and looked at her.

            “For what?”

            “Uh, you did just wrestle a shark for me,” she reminded him, smiling slightly. “So, let’s start with that.”

            “Oh, right,” he said. He felt strangely embarrassed by her gratitude; what did you say to something like that? ‘You’re welcome’ didn’t quite seem to cut it.

            “I don’t think that was exactly wrestling,” he said stupidly. “I mean, I just grabbed it and…

            “Can I ask you something?” Helen interrupted.

            “Sure.”

            Helen bit her lip and glanced around the room for a few seconds, thinking, before asking:

            “Why are you doing this?”

            “Doing what?”

            “Helping me?”

            Hendricks felt his stomach contract and he tried to think of an answer quickly.

            “Well, it’s just the right thing to do, right?”

            “Yeah, but you just met me…what, two days ago?”

            “I’ve lost track.”

            “My point is, since then you’ve risked your life for me about half-a-dozen times, and I appreciate it, don’t get me wrong, but it just…it’s unusual, I guess. I mean, you just took on a shark – a mutated, flying shark – with your bare hands. It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen anyone do…and you did it for me. Why?”

            Hendricks looked at her. She was cut, bruised, and dirty, but even with all that she was still radiantly beautiful. He felt a powerful urge well up in his chest to tell her everything, everything he felt, everything he we beginning to dare to hope for…

            “Honestly?” he said, steeling himself. “It’s…I like you,” he offered lamely.

            Helen raised her eyebrows dubiously.

            “You like me?” she repeated. “That’s it?”

            “Kind of.”

            “So, after about an hour’s worth of conversation you decided that you ‘liked me’ enough to do suicidal things for me?”

            “Well…pretty much,” he admitted. Suddenly, he blurted out “I just can’t stand the thought of anything bad happening to you.”

            Helen stared at him with an odd expression on her face; he couldn’t tell whether she was flattered or embarrassed or simply shocked.

            “Maybe this isn’t the right time,” she said at last. “We can talk about it later if we, you know, survive.”

            “We are going to survive,” he said sternly. “Don’t think like that.”

            She gave him a sad smile.

            “I’m the one who can see the future, remember?”

            “Yeah, but still, try to be optimistic.”

            Helen rolled her eyes and said, in a voice broken by what was either suppressed laughter or tears.

            “What about this situation would make me optimistic?”

            Hendricks tried to think of something.

            “We made it this far,” he said.

            Helen considered this.

            “No, that doesn’t really help,” she said. “What else do you got?”

            There was a pause as they looked at each other.

            “…I’m here,” he offered. “And I won’t let anything happen to you.”

            She blinked, then snorted.  

            Hendricks thought this was a little much, considering she had just been talking about how much he had done for her so far. But as he opened his mouth to protest, Helen shook her head.

            “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m honestly not laughing at you. I’m laughing because that actually does make me feel better.”

            She smiled brightly at him. It was the first genuinely happy smile he had seen on her since the night they met. The effect reminded him of standing in the warm sun after emerging from cold water.

            “Thanks,” she said simply.

            He smiled back.

            “You might want to get some sleep,” he said. “I’ll keep watch.”

            “No, you’re the one who’s been fighting worms and sharks and whatever else! You should sleep first.”

            “Yeah, and you were the one who warned us about Python,” he reminded her. “Frankly, I’d feel a lot safer if you slept first.”

            She shrugged.

            “Fair enough. But wake me up in an hour or so; you really look like you could use a nap.”

            She stretched out on the couch and laid her head upon her outstretched arm. Within only a couple minutes, she was asleep.

            Everyone in the control room looked very tired as they hunched over their terminals, typing frantically. But at least some semblance of order seemed to have been restored.

            “The holding tanks are still flooding into each other and we have no way of stopping them,” one man reported.

            “Fires are still burning on levels six, seven, and nine,” said another.

            “Power fully restored to level ten and sprinkler systems back online,”

            “Python currently contained on level five; do you want us to send an extermination crew?”

            “No,” said Prosser. He was the only one who didn’t look exhausted. Indeed, he looked exactly the same as he had hours ago when the disaster started. “That would be a waste of resources. Continue to track him and guide all extermination crews away from him.”

            “Yes, sir.”

            “Charles.”

            “Yes, Doctor?” came a familiar voice over the radio.

            “Report.”

            “Your lab’s secure. I still haven’t heard from Batista, so it’s probably safe to assume they got away somehow. He always was a bit of a moron.”

            “Remarkable,” said Prosser. “I am frankly astonished that they have survived this long.”

            “As am I,” said Charles. “Would you like me to go take care of them?”

            Prosser considered.

            “No, not yet,” he said. “I need you where I can find you. But pass the word on to the guards that they are to be shot on sight. Any man who fails to do so will be punished severely. I don’t want any messing around; they need to be eliminated immediately.”

            “Yes, Doctor,” said Charles. “Though I must confess, ‘messing around,’ as you call it, is sometimes very hard to resist.”

            Prosser ignored this. 

            “Do you have a plan, doctor?” asked Charles.

            “We will contain them within the facility and concentrate on guarding the vital areas, such as the central lab and my private laboratory. Their aggressive natures will lead them to attack one another, whittling down their numbers. Once enough of them are dead, we will hunt down and destroy or capture the rest. In the meantime, they will surely take care of Ms. Marshall for us.”

            “No!”

            Helen had cried out without remembering that she was in a dream, that Charles couldn’t hear her, and that it would be quite useless even if he could. She thought, for a second, that her shout had awakened her; she found herself back in the break room, and there was Hendricks sitting at the table and there…

            She shut her eyes and shook her head. Even for a dream, this was an odd experience. She was looking at herself lying fast asleep on the couch.

            “Yes, that’s you.”

            The great Dog had appeared at her side, grinning its doggish grin. The instant she saw him, all of Helen’s fears seemed to vanish in a puff of smoke, and she flung her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

            “Thank you!” she said. “You’ve saved our lives at least twice already!”

            “Much more than that, I assure you,” he said with a hint of laughter in his voice.

            “That was you who saved us from those…things in the drain, wasn’t it?

            “Of course,” he said. “You asked me to.”

            “Thank you,” she said again. Then, because she couldn’t help herself, she asked “What…what were they? Ghosts?”

            “Oh, no, a ghost is a human spirit separated from its body. Those things were never human.”

            “Then what?”

            “Well, that’s a difficult question,” he said. “Because there really isn’t a word in your language for what they are.”

            Helen shuddered.

            “Are they dangerous?”

            “They can be,” he said. “But usually not, unless you let them. It’s best not to think about them too much. Quite apart from anything else, it is unhealthy and leads to bad dreams. Put them out of your mind, if you can!”

            “Well, I’ll try,” she said dubiously.

            The Dog looked at her very seriously with his great, golden eyes.

            “Helen,” he said. “Try to do more than try. You have much more important things to worry about than them. Besides, they’re of the sort of creatures who, once you are aware of them, there is nothing to gain by knowing any more. Don’t let your mind dwell on that memory! Don’t let your curiosity linger on those creatures!”

            Helen felt, if anything, more unnerved by this, and she knew the Dog knew it.

            “Dear one,” he said. “Don’t be afraid; it’ll be much easier than it sounds.  But no more! Let’s move on to other things.”

            Helen nodded.

            “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’ve been meaning to ask,” she said. “Do you know what ‘Kobras’ means?”

            The Dog looked at her for a long time as though considering how to reply.

            “Kobras,” he said at last. “Was the name of a very evil person who lived a very long time ago. He was involved in work very similar to what Dr. Prosser is doing. And that, I’m afraid, is all I can tell you about him.”

            “Wow,” she said. “That’s…actually more than I was expecting.”

            “I’m glad to hear it!” he said with a laugh.

            “But then,” she said, suddenly realizing. “Does that mean that ‘Kobras’ was the one blocking my dreams? The one who…”

            “No,” said the Dog. “It wasn’t. That was an entirely different – and far more powerful – person, one whom you need not fear nor concern yourself with. He cannot harm you, nor stop your dreams anymore, so don’t worry about him. You have far more important things to worry about at the moment.”

            “Like staying alive, right?” she said gloomily.

            “Exactly,” said the Dog. “Now, as you have seen, Prosser is beginning to regain control of the island. Even worse, he now knows that you’re alive. You just saw for yourself that the guards and the monsters are starting to penetrate deeper into the facility. You’ll be encountering more as you go.”

            “Yeah, and we only escaped this batch because Boa happened to show up,” Helen sighed.

            “I confess, I had a hand in that,” said the Dog. “But I’m only permitted to do so much; you’ll need to be more careful going forward.”

            “Where should we go?” Helen asked. “I don’t even know where we are!”

            “You are currently on level six in what used to be an office complex. This is about as far down as Prosser’s renovations reached, and he’s been using it as a barracks. But don’t worry,” he added, cutting off her exclamation of horror. “The guards are all out and won’t be returning here anytime soon. You can rest safely here for now.

            “As for where you should go from here, there is an old smelting plant not far from here. Prosser uses it to make his Calvanite, but he doesn’t have enough men to guard it, so you shouldn’t run into any guards there. The plant runs up a few stories, so if you can make it there, you might be able to worm your way up to near the surface before he realizes what you’re up to. In any case, he won’t expect you to go there; he’ll expect you to take the obvious routes through the elevators and stairwells.”

            Helen nodded. “Okay,” she said. “A smelting plant. That should be fine.”

            “Be careful, though,” said the Dog. “I said you wouldn’t encounter any guards there; monsters are a different story.”

            “Oh, yeah,” said Helen, her face falling.

            “I’m sorry,” said the Dog. “But there simply aren’t any safe routes on Matoul. This will be your best chance, but whether you make it through alive or not will depend mostly on you.”  

            Helen took a deep breath and nodded, trying to appear braver than she felt.

            “Where is it?”

            “When you leave here, turn left, go back down the stairs, then take a right at the first junction and follow that all the way down. At the far end you’ll find a heavy metal door which will lead you to the plant.”

            “Left, right, metal door; got it,” she repeated, trying not to show how frightened she was by the prospect.

            The Dog bent forward and kissed her forehead with his blood-red tongue. Immediately Helen felt warmth and courage flowing through her.

            “Be brave, little one,” said the Dog. “It will be alright.”

Helen smiled in spite of herself. She regarded her own sleeping form.

            “Is that really what I look like when I sleep?”

            The Dog nodded. “Aren’t you pretty?”

            She glanced sideways at him and they both laughed.

Next Week:
Chapter Fourteen: Fire, Knife, and Fang

Chapter Twelve: The Scientist and the Sharks

“O brave monster! Lead the way.”

-Stephano, The Tempest

           

            “Well,” said Hendricks after they had rested for a while. “Shall we move on? I don’t know whether this vent goes anywhere, but we can’t really go back, can we?”

            “I suppose it must go somewhere,” said Helen. “The Dog wouldn’t have sent us into it if it didn’t. Do you still have that flashlight?”

            Hendricks reached into his pocket with some difficulty and handed it up to her. She flicked it on, revealing exactly the dusty, cramped metal tube he had been expecting. It stretched on as far as the light could reach.

            They began to crawl forward, slowly now to conserve what strength they had left.

            “They really go in for wicked large vents on this island, don’t they?” Hendricks commented. “I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever seen ones big enough to crawl through.”

            “Probably because we’re so deep underground and they wanted to let as much air in as possible,” Helen speculated.

“Or maybe the vent contractor was cheating them,” Hendricks suggested.

Helen chuckled. “I can just picture that,” she said. “’Honest Vern’s Ventilation; Because You Never Know When You’ll Need the Space.’”

They both laughed at the image of a fat, sleazy air-vent contractor smooth-talking his way into a contract inflated beyond all reason. And once they had started laughing, they found it very hard to stop.

“Okay,” said Hendricks once they had hiccupped their way back to seriousness again. “Lead on, then!”

            Helen began crawling down the vent, holding the flashlight in front of her, Hendricks following closely. They could hear odd noises as they went; cries distorted weirdly by the echoes, so they couldn’t tell whether they were human or monster or…something else. Once or twice they heard another muffled explosion from somewhere far overhead.

            But the vent kept going, unblocked. It turned two or three more times, forked once or twice, and every twenty feet or so they came to a vertical shaft. They always hurried on passed these, remembering the cicadas.

            Finally, after what seemed like a long time, they turned a last corner to find themselves looking abruptly at a large grate, much like the one they had entered through.

            “At last,” sighed Helen. She pushed on the grate, but it wouldn’t budge.

            “I think we can move it,” she said, examining the edges. “It doesn’t look like it’s really bolted down. Here, push me.”

            Hendricks hesitated. From his current position there weren’t very many viable locations he could push her from.

            “Uh,” he said, not sure how to put his concerns delicately. “How?”

            Helen realized what the trouble was and made a sound half-way between a sigh and a laugh.

            “I give you full exemption from the usual rules of propriety,” she said. 

           Hendricks braced his arms against her (he felt that at least he ought to avoid using his hands if he could) and his feet against the bottom of the vent.

            “Ready?” she said. “One, two, three, PUSH!”

            They pushed together, straining and slipping on the dust-covered metal. Slowly, very slowly, the vent cover began to slide forward. They paused, caught their breath, and tried again. It slid out a little further. Finally, on the third try, the whole thing gave way at once and they fell forward into the room.

            Helen was just picking herself up off the floor when something grabbed her by the back of her shirt and lifted her straight up. She yelled and twisted in its grip, but a huge hand snapped shut over her mouth and she found herself being pressed against a man’s body so hard that she couldn’t move or break away. She grabbed at the hand over her mouth, but it was like try to tear the limb off a tree.

            “Hey, get off her!” Hendricks shouted, crawling out of the vent. But the man simply picked him up, clapped a massive hand over his mouth, and pressed him to his other side just like Helen. They both struggled violently, and Hendricks tried to reach his crowbar, but the man was holding him so strongly that his arm was pinned to his side.

            The man started walking with them clutched to his side like grocery bags. They gave up trying to resist and simply walked alongside him, hoping that they would get a chance to escape wherever he was taking them.

            The room they were in turned out to be much larger than they had thought. The part they had seen from the vent was only a kind of wing separated from the rest by a partial wall. Their captor took them around this wall and they saw that it was a laboratory; a huge, well-stocked laboratory that seemed to have been untouched by the disaster. And standing in the middle, with an expression of eager anticipation on his face, was Dr. Ted Nelson.

            “Excellent, Fritz!” He declared. “I knew I heard something in the vents! You may release them now; I don’t think they’ll be causing any trouble.”

            Fritz grunted and let them go. Helen and Hendricks staggered away from him, gasping for breath. Hendricks pulled out his crowbar.

            “Now, now, there’s no need to be alarmed,” said Nelson. “I must say, it is remarkable to find people so far down! And, if I am not mistaken, you are Prosser’s friends from early this evening, yes?”

            “Not friends,” Helen snapped. “And what are you doing down here?”

            “Why, this is my personal laboratory,” said Nelson. “What you saw was only my official laboratory. I find that my pursuit of Science is often hampered by the constant criticism and small-mindedness of my employer, so come down here to do my really important work away from prying eyes.

            “And what are you doing here, might I ask?” he said in a voice suddenly sharp with suspicion. “I suppose Dr. Prosser sent you down to spy on me, did he?”

            “What? No!” said Hendricks. “We’re not in league with Prosser! He’s trying to kill us!”

            “Well, me mostly,” amended Helen.

            “Is he?” asked Nelson. “Whatever for?”

            “It’s complicated,” said Helen.

            “Madame, I am a scientist.”

            Helen and Hendricks glanced at each other. Neither felt comfortable trusting Nelson with the truth.

            “Er, well, would you mind if we rested for a minute before we go into explanations?” Hendricks asked. “I mean, we’ve been on the run for hours, and have barely had a minute to catch our breaths.”

            “Of course,” said Nelson, indicating a battered old couch in the corner, which they sank onto gratefully. “Would you like some coffee?”

            “Yes, please!” said Helen. “And…you don’t happen to have any food, do you?”

            “Just coffee,” said Nelson while Fritz poured a few cups from a pot hidden among a forest of test tubes. “Gallons and gallons of coffee! I practically live on it.”

            Fritz brought them their coffee and Nelson downed his in one go. Hendricks took a sip and choked.

            “Do you like it?” Nelson asked, handing Fritz his empty cup with a nod to make more. “It’s my own personal brew.”

            “It’s, uh, kinda strong,” said Hendricks in very hoarse voice. 

            “Well, what do you expect?” retorted Nelson. “Strong coffee for a strong mind!”

            Hendricks took another sip and forced the hot liquid down his throat. He thought he could feel it eating away the lining of his stomach. Helen, for her part, tried to drink a little deeper (possibly she wanted to show off, or possibly she just thought it would be rude not to), but spat out most of it.

            Meanwhile, Nelson took another cup from Fritz, downed it in one go, and turned back to his work.

            “You’re welcome to rest here for a while,” he said. “Provided, of course, you don’t interrupt my work.”

            “Uh, well, before you get started, then,” Helen put in. “Maybe you could help us find a way to the surface?”

            “Take the elevator,” Nelson said carelessly without looking at her.

            “Elevators are down,” she said. “You know, what with the monsters running around loose and everything?”

            Nelson spun around in surprise.

            “What?! Do you mean to say that some of my creations are out?

            “Yes,” said Hendricks. “Actually, all of them. And Prosser’s too. Every monster you guys made is out and on the rampage; we’ve nearly been killed about five times already!”

            “How did this happen?”

            “Python got into the generator room,” said Helen.

            “But that means,” said Nelson in a tone of mingled excitement and alarm. “That there is an enormous real-world test going on right now and I am missing it!”

            He leapt to his feet.

            “Come, Fritz!” he declared. “We must observe!”

            “Wait, you’re going to go watch them?” Hendricks exclaimed. “Are you insane?”

            “Some have said so,” said Nelson with great dignity. “Small minds always slander the great, you see; it is their only defense.”

            “Well, before you go,” said Helen. “Could you tell us how to get to the surface?”

            “Come with us!” said Nelson. “Our journey lies together for some time, and I shall be better able to point you in the right direction from further on.”

            “Uh,” said Hendricks. “I don’t suppose we could wait for a few more minutes while we rest…”

            “There is no such thing as ‘waiting’ in Science!” declared Nelson. “I go this very moment, with or without you!”

            “Okay, okay,” sighed Hendricks, heaving himself up. “Lead on, doctor.”  

            “By the way,” Helen asked as Nelson led them down the corridor. “Were you the one who made those killer cicadas?”

            “Oh, did those get out?” said Nelson in a tone of disappointment. “I’m very sorry; they weren’t done.”

            Hendricks was on the point of asking whether Nelson was sorry that the cicadas had almost killed them or sorry that he hadn’t gotten a chance to perfect his creation, but realized that he probably wouldn’t like the answer.

            “What about that…that worm thing?” he asked instead.

            “The Bore Worm?” said Nelson disgustedly. “Of course not! Surely you can see that my creations are far more refined and elegant than that piece of Freudian folly!”

            “How do you make those things anyway?” Helen asked.

            “Well, it would take a Scientist to understand,” said Nelson very smugly. “But the layman’s answer is that we are able to create them through what is called the Universal Transmitter.”

            “What’s that?”

            “A most ingenious device – largely designed by myself, of course – which is able, by chemical processes too complex to describe, to extract the characteristic inscribed within one creature’s DNA and transmit them to another. In this way, if you are clever, you can create almost anything you like, of whatever size you desire, and possessed of whatever traits you wish it to have. Of course, it’s taken us a long time to really understand how it works, but now we are passed that stage and are poised to do truly incredible things.”

            He smiled blissfully at the thought, but a chill ran through Helen.

            “Do you mean,” she said. “That all these things were just…you guys working out the kinks?”

            “If you really must put it that way, yes,” said Nelson.

            “Then, if you keep using it, you’ll make even bigger and more dangerous monsters?”

            “Naturally! Why, compared to what we might create, these creatures – with the exception of my own work, of course – are hardly worth mentioning.”

            Helen and Hendricks exchanged worried looks and knew they were thinking the same thing: if that were true, then Prosser really would have a fair chance of making his final war.

            While they were talking, Nelson led them into a narrow stairwell containing a rickety spiral staircase, which they had to climb very slowly since it felt as though the four of them were pushing its weight limit to the danger point.

            “Do, um, do you believe in all that stuff about a new world order and a last war and so on?”

            “Of course not!” said Nelson contemptuously. “I do not waste my time with politics; my concern is only with Science. If the pure pursuit of knowledge is not sufficient for Dr. Prosser, then I have nothing to say to him. But I have long known that he is not a true Scientist; merely a busy-body who uses science as his means. I have no use for such creatures. Don’t you agree, Fritz?”

            Fritz grunted in acknowledgement.

            “Then why do you work for him?” asked Helen.

            “He provides me with funding and materials for my research,” said Nelson simply. “Provided he continues, I see no need either to change my position nor to inform him of my views. If I were only willing to accept support from true Scientists, why, I would never be able to continue my work at all!” 

            At this point they arrived at the top of the stairs and he led them through yet-another one of bulkhead-like doors.

            “Oh, dear,” he said upon reaching the other side.

            “What?”

            Helen and Hendricks soon saw what. The door opened onto the corner of a narrow balcony which ran all around an enormous, high-ceilinged room crisscrossed with catwalks. All four walls of the room below them were taken up completely with huge glass aquariums and the floor, as far as they could see, was divided into four large tanks. Or at least, it had been at one time, but now the glass was shattered and the room was completely flooded with murky water which was almost level with the floor of the balcony, so that they could only dimly discern these details. Moreover, a rushing sound told them that the room was slowly flooding even higher.

            “It would appear they are loose,” said Nelson.

            “And…just what are ‘they’?” Helen asked.

            As she spoke, a big dark shape swam into view below them and began circling.

            “They are a hybrid,” said Nelson clinically. “I combined DNA from flying fish and Great White Sharks.”

            Helen and Hendricks stared at him.

            “Wha…Why would you want to do that!?” Helen asked.

            Nelson gave her an almost pitying look.

            “You just don’t understand Science, do you?”

            Helen had no idea what to say to this, and settled for simply gaping at the man in horror.

            “They are truly spectacular,” Nelson went on proudly, gazing at the circling shape, which was now joined by a second one. “The Perfect Killing…”       

            “Machine, of course!” said Helen impatiently. “Have you made anything that isn’t the perfect killing machine?”

            “I’ll have you know that I am a very talented scientist,” said Nelson angrily.

            “Okay, okay!” said Hendricks, trying to cut off the argument. “How do we get passed them?”

            “Well, I should hope you can’t,” said Nelson, as though he were fairly insulted by the very question. “They are supposed to be a biological weapon, after all, and any such weapon wouldn’t be much use if you could just ‘get passed’ it.”

            “You know, you could be a little more helpful!” Hendricks snapped, his temper getting the better of him. “You’re in this just as much as we are!”

            “Don’t be ridiculous,” laughed Nelson. “I have nothing to fear from my own creations!”

            “No,” said Helen. “I don’t think that’s how it works at all!”

            “I flatter myself, I know a little more about the subject than you do, my dear,” said Nelson with a truly infuriating smile.

            “Okay, then,” interposed Hendricks, trying a different tact. “How many are there?”

            “Six,” said Nelson. “Unless, of course, they have turned cannibal, but I don’t think that is likely at this stage. There’s another one!”

            A third shark had indeed appeared on the other side of the tank, moving to join its fellows. It was plain that they were just waiting for the little group of humans to move into a more promising position to attack.

            “Is there any way around them?”

            “Oh, my goodness, no!” said Nelson, as though the idea were absurd. “I made sure of that, I can tell you! There is only one way to reach my laboratory! Makes it that much harder for me to be followed, don’t you see?”

            “Well, do you have any ideas for getting passed them then?”

            “As I say, I don’t expect you can,” said Nelson. “But, I suppose, the best thing to do is to simply walk along this balcony. Of course, we will each need to take one of these tanks along with us.”

            He indicated a row of oxygen tanks nearby.

            “Why?” Hendricks asked, dreading the answer.

            “Because the only door is currently underwater,” said Nelson, pointing to the far end of the flooded room. “And it stands to reason the corridor beyond will be flooded as well. You both know how to dive, of course?”

            Helen and Hendricks were so stunned by this new intelligence (which they both thought he really should have mentioned earlier) that they couldn’t answer.

            “You mean, we need to go into the water with those things?” Helen asked furiously.

            “I told you I don’t expect you to get passed them,” said Nelson indignantly, as though she were being very unreasonable.

            “Rrrnn,” said Fritz.

            “Exactly,” said Nelson. “We are wasting time. They’re not getting any less dangerous, you know.”

            He shouldered a tank with surprising strength for one so slender. Helen and Hendricks glanced at each other, both very pale, and did likewise.

            “Do you know how to dive?” Hendricks asked her in a low voice.

            “Yes. You?”

            “Yeah. Never done it with sharks before, though.”

            Helen glanced over at Nelson, who was waiting for them with his own oxygen tank slung over his shoulder, as though they were all going for a walk together.

            “Look at him,” she whispered. “He’s just hoping we’ll get eaten so he can observe his precious monsters in action. Bastard.”

            “I can hear you,” said Nelson with a scowl. “And what if I don’t care whether you survive or not? Why should I? I am a great Scientist; you are nobody in particular. If your death serves the cause of Science, it will probably be the most useful thing you have ever done. But, if you are going to be so difficult about it, I’ll have you know that I am not ‘hoping’ you die; I am a Scientist! I do not hope; I observe. Whether you live or die, I will learn; that is all that matters. Now would you please stop wasting my valuable time?”

            Hendricks laid a hand on Helen’s shoulder, since she seemed close to the point of attacking Nelson.

            “Come on,” he muttered. “It’ll be alright.”

            Helen took a deep breath, shouldered her tank, and began to follow Nelson.

            The little group moved slowly around the right hand side of the room, keeping as close to the wall as possible. This wasn’t easy, as the walls were lined with large banks of what appeared to be monitoring equipment; old computers, counting machines, generators, and many more that neither Helen nor Hendricks could recognize. Other bits of junk littered the floor and the water was by now nearly level with it, making walking difficult, and they stumbled more than once. Fortunately, it appeared that the sharks still didn’t see them as viable prey; they made no apparent attempt to attack.

            And why should they? Hendricks thought bitterly. We’re going to be serving up room service in a minute…

            But just as he was thinking this, about halfway down the room, everything changed.

            Hendricks saw it before anyone else; one of the dark shapes moving in the water in front of them, turning, and suddenly darting through the water like a torpedo. It broke the surface and spread two enormous wings, the size of a hang-glider, and flew straight at them, its hideous mouth gaping wide, its gums pulled back showing its triangular teeth in all their horror.

            “DOWN!” Hendricks shouted, and they all dropped at once to the floor. The shark soared over them, scrapping the wall with its wing and trying to bend its head down far enough to bite them, but in a second its flight had carried it too far and it folded its wings and re-entered the water with a terrific splash which drenched them all.

            “Run for it!” Hendricks called, but there was no need. Nelson and Fritz were already on their feet and flying across the room faster than anyone Hendricks had ever seen. Hendricks helped Helen up and tore after them. But they hadn’t got far when Hendricks caught his foot on a pile of netting and pitched forward, smacking his head painfully on a chunk of wood lying in his path. Helen, who had leapt lightly over the nets, skidded to a halt to help him, but he waved and shouted for her to keep going.

            “Hendricks, behind you!” she shrieked.

            Hendricks turned to see one of the sharks hurling itself halfway out of the water to snap at his legs. He just managed to pull them out of the way, dragging the net, when the beast’s multi-ton body landed inches away from his feet, pinning the net down and trapping Hendricks as it wriggled its way towards him, making vicious bites with its massive jaws.

            Terror flooded him and he screamed and kicked and flailed about, trying to get free. Twice his foot actually entered the shark’s mouth and he withdrew it only just in time. Seizing the only weapon he had on hand – the oxygen tank – he tried to jab at the shark’s nose, which he had always been told was its most sensitive spot. Whether or not that was true in general, it didn’t work on this shark, which only redoubled its efforts to get at Hendricks, until, with a particularly forceful jab, he accidently threw the tank straight into the beast’s mouth.

            The shark took no notice of this whatsoever. It simply bit down on the tank and tried to swallow it. Hendricks whipped out his crowbar and began flailing with that, whacking the fish about the nose, the eyes, the gills, and the mouth. It didn’t seem to even feel the blows, but just kept snapping at him.

            And then he hit the tank.

            A stream of air shot out so fast that even the slipstream of it rushing past him was painful. The tank shot back straight through the shark’s body and out into the water, leaving a trail of blood all the way to the floor. The shark twitched for a moment, then went limp and slipped away into the water.

            The suddenness of this development left Hendricks so startled that it took him a while to fully comprehend what had happened. It was only when Helen began tugging on his arm and shouting something in his ear that he began to come back to himself.

            “Hendricks!” she shouted. “We have to go!”

            “Right…” he gasped as Helen untangled his feet from the net (it took her about a second) and pulled him to his feet.

            Further out in the water, two sharks burst out, spread their wings and soared high up so that they brushed the ceiling with their dorsal fins, turned in a great arch, and flew straight at them.

            Helen and Hendricks ran for it, the sharks turning in mid-air to follow. They couldn’t help stumbling and slipping on the wet, debris-strewn ground, but ahead they could see a glimmer of hope; a deep alcove was only about twenty yards ahead of them, and Nelson and Fritz had already taken refuge in it. If they could only reach it…

            The flying sharks were closing fast, swooping in behind them as though they were fighter planes on a strafing run. Their mouths were open, their teeth bared, their black eyes bulging.

            They had reached the refuge. Helen and Hendricks both dove sideways as the sharks swooped low over them, their snapping jaws missing Helen’s back by an inch. Two huge splashes told them that the sharks had reentered the water, disappointed.

            Hendricks got up, helping Helen to her feet, both of the shaking all over. The room they were in was small, cramped, and obviously had no exit save back the way they had come. It was full of diving equipment; fins, wetsuits, masks, even a couple spear-guns.

            “Did you see that?” Nelson said rapturously. “A classic attack formation; as if they were birds of prey! My glorious creations have grown more powerful than I could ever have imagined!”

            “Doctor!” Helen snapped. “Focus! We need to work on a way to get passed them, remember?”

            “Silence!” retorted Nelson. “I will not be dictated to…!”

            “LOOK OUT!” shrieked Hendricks, grabbing Helen and pulling her out of the way as one of the sharks flew straight into their refuge. It landed with a terribly loud slap on the floor, its massive grey body between Helen and Hendricks on one side and Nelson and Fritz on the other. Bracing its ‘wings’ on the floor, the shark gave a kind of hop and turned to snap at Hendricks.

            “Amphibious adaptation!” said Nelson excitedly as Helen and Hendricks backed away from the monster. “I could never have foreseen such a thing!”

            “Help us!” Helen shrieked. She and Hendricks were backed into a corner now, the shark flopping its way toward them like some grotesque seal.

            “And interrupt this great opportunity to study a Scientific phenomenon that no one has ever seen?!” Nelson cried indignantly.

            The shark flopped closer. One more hop and it would be on them, and there was no way they could escape.

            It was at that moment, when all seemed lost, that Helen saw, without realizing she saw, a thick black cable leading down from the big computer or monitoring bank that stood in the corner, right next to where they were sheltering. Hardly realizing what she was doing, Helen seized the cable and thrust it forward as the shark leapt at her, jaws open wide. It found the cable. It bit. Helen released it the moment it was within the beast’s jaws and dove aside, pushing Hendricks in front of her. Before they hit the ground there was a blinding shower of sparks, a roaring noise, a smell of ozone and burning flesh, and the shark thrashed about, its tail whipping the room, its great winged fins flailing. Helen and Hendricks lay almost directly beneath this burning, shinning nightmare, their eyes shut tight, holding onto each other for dear life, expecting every minute to die…

            Then, all at once, it was over. Both the lights of the sparks and every light in their little alcove went out. The massive, dead shark lay on one side, a small fire dancing out of its head.

            “You killed my creation!” Nelson said after a long silence.

            “Yeah, maybe you didn’t notice, but it was trying to eat us!” Helen retorted.

            “Do you realize,” Nelson declared furiously. “What you have done to the cause of Science?!”

            “Sorry, you’ll have to find someone else to feed to those things,” Helen snapped.

            “Oh, believe me; I will!”

            “Hey, aren’t we kind of forgetting that we’re trying to get out of here!?” Hendricks interjected. “We can argue about the cause of science and all that later, can’t we?”

            Nelson glared at him and Helen, but for once he held his tongue.

            “There are still four left to go,” Hendricks went on. “Do we have any weapons in here?”

            “The spear-guns,” said Helen.

            “And these,” said Nelson, and he opened a strong steel box to reveal…

            “Are…are those grenades?” Hendricks asked.       

            “Naturally,” said Nelson, selecting one of the three yellow, cylindrical objects for himself and handing another to Fritz (who accepted his with a nod and an approving growl). “We are dealing with enhanced beasts here; did you really think we would confine ourselves to conventional weapons?”

            Hendricks took the grenade offered him, deciding not to voice his surprise that Nelson was on-the-ball enough to reason like that.

            “And these,” he said. “If you really insist upon it, shall be the keys to our escape. As you know, the explosion within the water is much more powerful than outside the water; it will scare the sharks off and give us a chance to slip past them.”

            “I thought you didn’t want us to escape?” said Helen.

            “I never said that,” said Nelson. “I said I don’t care whether you escape. As I say, I am a Scientist, and a Scientist ought never to interfere with his experiment.”

            They didn’t answer. They only strapped on their goggles and attached the regulators to their tanks (Hendricks picked up a new one). But they didn’t put them on yet; as Hendricks pointed out, they didn’t need to have twenty pounds of air strapped to their backs while they were trying to outrun flying sharks.

            They left their alcove, with its burning, dead shark, and continued to walk along the rim of the water, again trying to keep as far back from its edge as possible, but moving rather more quickly than before. Again, Fritz and Nelson led, while Helen and Hendricks followed.

            Suddenly, a shark’s head rose from the water in front of them and grabbed Fritz’s arm.

            “RRRNNN!” Fritz roared as the shark dragged him back into the water.

            “Fritz, no!” Nelson shrieked.

            The next moment, the water was still, and Fritz was gone.

            Nelson was staring at the murky water in uncomprehending horror, like a child who doesn’t understand why his parents are so frightened by that stranger. Hendricks didn’t know what to do; he didn’t like Nelson or Fritz, and he knew they all needed to hurry along, lest the same thing happen to them, but the suddenness of Fritz’s death had been so alarming that he couldn’t move or speak. Judging from Helen’s wide, staring eyes and stiff body, she couldn’t either.

            Hendricks was just coming out of it enough to begin to say “Doctor…” when a fountain of water erupted about twenty feet behind them. For a split second, Hendricks thought it was another shark surfacing to take flight, but no shark emerged, only more bubbling blood.

            A moment later, Fritz heaved himself up with a grunt out of the water.

            “Fritz!” Nelson exclaimed with delight. “You live! Excellent!”

            Helen and Hendricks stared in amazement. Not only was Fritz alive, but he seemed completely unhurt.

            “Rrrn,” he said, nodding and smacking his fist against his palm a few times. “RRRN!” He threw up his hands as though celebrating a touchdown.

            “Spectacular!” said Nelson.

            “What did he say?” Hendricks asked.        

            “Weren’t you listening?” Nelson answered. “He beat the shark until it released him, then left the grenade inside its mouth. Very resourceful, Fritz.”

            “Rrrn.”

            “Well, what are you all standing there for?!” Nelson said, as though Helen and Hendricks were the ones preventing them from moving on. “Hurry! Hurry! They’ll on us again at any moment!”

            And so they kept going, hurrying along as fast as they could, the far wall finally getting close.

            “Of course,” said Nelson. “Sooner or later we’ll have to take these catwalks, you see; that will put us closer to the door and mean less time in the water. But, I’m afraid, we will be much more exposed there.”

            “Then maybe we should just keep off of them and try to get in from here.” Helen suggested.         

            “No, no; it’s far too great a distance from here to the door. If you want to survive, we have to stay out of the water as long as possible.”

            And so, at the last entrance to the catwalks before the far wall, they paused, all took a deep breath, Helen and Hendricks said their prayers, and they set out across the open water.

            The catwalk did not feel particularly stable; it creaked and groaned under their weight, and sometimes it would tremble violently for no apparent reason. Nelson casually speculated that this meant one of the three remaining sharks was running up against it, which was not at all conducive to the others’ nerves. What’s more, the catwalks were nearly as strewn with debris as the balcony had been; tangled ropes, upturned buckets, a mop, bits of clothing (badly torn, leaving Hendricks doubtful of the owners’ continued safety), and roughly halfway along the stretch they were walking on, two large, jagged planks of wood, which lay crisscross along their path, as though they had been set up as a barrier. 

            “Fritz! Remove these!” Nelson commanded. And Fritz indeed set to work with a grunt. He dislodged the first plank with little effort and threw it aside into the water. But as he reached for the second, the catwalk suddenly lurched violently. One of the sharks had charged it, jaws open, right behind Helen and Hendricks. They saw it coming just in time to leap out of its path, but it seized the catwalk itself and tore straight through the metal walkway, bending it outwards and leaving a large gap between them and where they had just come from.

            At this point, Fritz suddenly gave up on dislodging the planks and simply leapt over them. Nelson followed. Hendricks and Helen, after picking themselves up, raced after them. Helen leapt the barrier like a deer. Hendricks jumped, caught his foot on the plank, and fell hard onto the rough metal.

            “No, don’t stop!” he yelled, for Helen had shown signs of wanting to stop and help. “Keep going! I’ll be fine!”

            In one of the flashes of hysteria that accompany extreme fear, Hendricks couldn’t help thinking that this was a very bad time to be lying so obviously.

            Helen hesitated, but then…

            “Look out!” Hendricks shrieked, and Helen just had time to dive out of the way as a shark leapt out of the water, over the catwalk, and narrowly missed seizing her in its jaws.

            “Run!” Hendricks shouted, trying to pick himself up. He could see the shark’s dorsal fin slicing through the water, turning around to make another pass at her. Not quite thinking, he grabbed the heavy plank on the vague pretense that he might use its jagged end to drive the beast off. But before he could get more than a few paces towards it, it again took to the air and flew straight at Helen, jaws agape.

            She screamed and dropped to the floor, and the beast soared over her. But it kept going, and Hendricks realized that it was heading straight for him.

            The smart thing would have been to simply duck as she had done, but Hendricks’s mind had gone numb. He backed away, lost his footing, and fell over. The shark was gliding so low that its wings were nearly level with the railing, and its jaws would easily be able to bend down far enough to bite Hendricks. As he looking into that wide, white mouth rimmed about with teeth the size of harpoon-tips, Hendricks realized that this was truly it for him. Yet, instinctively, he braced himself and lifted the jagged piece of wood to meet the shark as it flew straight at him.

            The momentum of the shark carried it right onto the sharp edge of the plank, its own weight giving the blow more force than any human hands could have. The wood pierced the shark’s tough hide, went deeper and deeper into its vitals, as its jaws came closer and closer to Hendricks’s head, and then…

            The shark exploded. 

            Hendricks was blasted back off of the catwalk into the filthy, bloody water. Flailing about, he saw Helen rushing back to the end of what was left of their section and made for her as fast as he could swim with his bruised and battered body.

            As he reached her, Helen grabbed his outstretched arms and hauled him up. Coughing and retching, Hendricks clambered out of the bloody water, feeling like at least some of his bones were broken and with fainting ringing in his ears.

            “What the hell was that?!” Helen exclaimed as she tried to drag Hendricks further away from the water’s edge.

            “The fail-safe,” Nelson replied. “I installed small explosives in each of their bodies in case they ever got out of control. You must have hit it!”

            They stared at him in incomprehension.

            “Well then why didn’t you just blow them all up in the first place!?” Hendricks sputtered.

            “The installation was years ago, when they were pups.” Nelson said irritably. “It isn’t as though I had to use it in all that time!” 

            “What are you…?”

            “I LOST THE REMOTE!” Nelson shrieked indignantly.

            “Oh, for the love of…!” Helen snarled as she helped Hendricks to his feet. “Come on!”

            The four of them hurried along the catwalk (Hendricks limping due to the pain in his side), turned at the junction, and sprinted for the wall. They were almost there; Hendricks actually began to think they might make it.

            Then, suddenly, one of the sharks burst from the water in front of them and charged the catwalk. They just managed to stop before the great fish plowed straight through the metal walkway. The four were just regaining their balance when the other shark tore through the walkway behind them.

            All at once they found themselves on a tiny, unstable island of metal in the midst of the shark-infested waters.

            “Doctor,” said Hendricks. “The grenades!”

            “No, I have a better idea!” Nelson said in an almost conspiratorial tone.

            Helen was about to say that they didn’t have time for a ‘better idea,’ but she never got the chance, because Nelson suddenly seized her under her arms, and she realized just what his ‘better idea’ was.

            “Wait, NO!” she yelled as Nelson, with alarming strength, lifted her up and threw her screaming as far out into the water as he could. It seemed to Helen that it took her a very long time to hit the water, and when she did it hurt very badly, as though she were falling through glass. The moment she hit, a feeling of helplessness, of hopelessness seemed to surround her, as though it came from the water itself. For in her mind there was one, very clear thought Oh, my God; there’s no way I’ll get out in time.

            “You…”

            Hendricks didn’t even have time to complete his oath. He slung his oxygen tank onto his shoulders in a flash (more because that just seemed the best way to handle it than because he thought he would need it), set one foot on the railing, and dove into the water after her.  

            It was even darker and murkier than it had looked from the outside. Hendricks could hardly see more than a foot in front of his face, and the dirt and grime and who knows what else in the water made his eyes smart, but he kept them wide open, trying to see Helen or…anything else.

            He saw her after only a few seconds; she was just clawing her way to the surface. It struck him forcefully how vulnerable her kicking legs were in that position.

            Hendricks’s lungs were burning, though he had only been in the water for maybe fifteen seconds. He reached back over his shoulder for the trailing regulator, stuffed it into his mouth, and took a deep breath.

            In the moment he had turned away, everything had changed.

            Helen, he saw, wasn’t in the same place. She was swimming as fast as she could right passed him, and it was no wonder; a big, dark shape was gliding swiftly through the water behind her.

            Like when he had dived in, Hendricks didn’t stop to think. He simply propelled himself upward at the shark. But before he could reach it, it reached her. Hendricks watched with numb horror as the great beast’s jaws bit down on Helen’s ankle. There was a muffled shriek from above the water, then she was dragged under. Hendricks saw her fighting, thrashing, beating on the monster as it pulled her down. She was still screaming even underwater, expending her last breath in one final wail of terror.

            But now Hendricks had reached the shark.

            He had no real plan for what he would do. He simply grabbed a handful of the shark’s gills with his right hand and gauged at its eye with his left.

            If nothing else, it achieved his object. The shark released Helen immediately and wrenched its head away from the terrible pain in its eye and gills. Perhaps it was under the impression that some other large predator had just attacked it, because it darted off into the gloomy water.

            Helen wasn’t moving. Praying that she was only unconscious, Hendricks seized her and pulled her upwards.

            Don’t be dead, he thought desperately as they rose. Please don’t be dead…

            His prayers were answered. The moment they broke the surface, Helen inhaled an enormous mouthful of air and began coughing violently.

            “What…what…” she gasped.

            “Don’t talk,” he said. “Here, just breathe into this.”         

            He thrust the regulator into her face and she took several deep breaths from the cool oxygen.

            “Now we have to go back under,” he said. “We have to share, alright?”

            She nodded.

            “On three,” he said. “One…”

            He was interrupted by a horrible clanging and screaming. One of the sharks had just rammed the catwalk’s supports, and Nelson and Fritz were both thrown into the water along with their temporary refuge.

            “Forget it! Just go!” Hendricks yelled, and they plunged beneath the water once again. Neither looked back. They didn’t want to see whatever was happening.

            They dove deeper and deeper, each taking two breaths and passing the regulator to the other. They didn’t see any sign of the remaining sharks, or Nelson, or Fritz.

            The door loomed up in front of them. Hendricks passed Helen the regulator and took hold of the wheel locking it shut.

            It didn’t move.

            He tried again. Still it wouldn’t move. Helen grabbed it and they both tried, but it was stuck solid.

            No, thought Hendricks That…that can’t be. Not after all that!

            He glanced over his shoulder. A large, dark shape was moving swiftly towards them. Helen looked back and saw it too. They both took hold of the wheel and wrenched it so hard that Hendricks felt as though the muscles in his arm had cracked, but at last it moved. They threw the door open, half-ran, half-swam through, and heaved it shut just as the shark – trailing blood from one of its eyes – opened its jaws wide and charged.        

            The door closed and the managed to throw the lock just as the beast struck with a noise like a gong. They didn’t stop to see whether it would hold. They simply turned and swam as fast as their injuries and aching muscles would allow.

           

Next Week:
Chapter Thirteen: A Short Break