At the Midway (37 page)

Anthony had been giving some thought to their tactics during the trip across. The first break with his plan had just occurred.  He was about to face another.

"Fan out and search.  We'll meet back here in thirty minutes?"

"Thirty minutes?"

No one else had a watch.

"All right...."  Anthony was frightened and flustered.  He wanted to strike his head and re-order his thinking.  "Go as far as you can, then come back.  And do it quickly as possible.  Don't call out.  Don't draw attention to yourselves.  If they chase you...."  Another sentence clipped short.  He was about to order them not to run towards the lagoon if chased.  If the creatures followed one of them to the boat, their only means of escape might be destroyed.

What a rare bird, Lieber thought.  You didn't see many weak sisters in the Corps.  Especially ones who charged into dangerous situations, then stopped cold like confused ducks waiting to be shot.  Court martial or no, the German had had enough of pish-pashing.

"
Herr
Leutnant
?"

"Yes?"

"Fuck it, sir.  Let's do it."

They moved inland.

1441 Hours

"Enderfall!  You couldn't cut salami in a knife factory.  Didn't I tell you to move the drums away from the distillery?  Can't you see what I'm up to?  Goddamn sexual deviant, move 'em down,
down
!"

The gasoline drums were moved further along the beach.  The men were already tired from all the digging at the bunker and this pointless labor further exhausted them.  When they reached a spot that satisfied Ziolkowski, they dropped to the sand and stared across the lagoon.

They could just make out the four men who comprised Anthony's crazy expedition.  Whenever the creatures raised their heads, their dark brown hides contrasted dramatically with the sun-brightened dunes.  The men below seemed like fleas worrying at the flank of a three-headed, imperturbable beast.

"Enough gawking.  Enderfall!  You stay here with me.  The rest of you get back to work on the bunker.  You don't want to spend another night out in the open, do you?"

This cheerful prospect prompted a mad scramble back to the compound.  Observing their panic, Ziolkowski allowed himself a brief moment's satisfaction.  Then he turned to his black sheep.

"We stay here."

"And what?"

"Die, most likely," said the top cutter, not without some glee.  A part of him had been terrified that someone might have witnessed his flight the day he abandoned his gun.  But the more he looked into their eyes, the more it was confirmed no one had seen him.  Maybe there was a God.  Maybe He was looking down on him this moment, getting ready to snuff out his Leatherneck life.  All well in good.  God had been the only witness, after all.  He never squealed. And the sergeant was grateful enough to give up his life in exchange for His benevolent reticence.

As the largest of the creatures raised its long neck, one of the small human dots stopped still in the open.  At this distance it was hard to tell, but it seemed as if the creature had something in its mouth.  When it gave its peculiar head-flick, Ziolkowski knew.  Either a man or a donkey was rolling around inside, shooting craps in hell.

"You might end up with a new commander, Enderfall," Ziolkowski said.  "Then your ass would be all mine.  How does that sound?"

"Doesn't sound too good, Top."

"How the hell you end up a sexual deviant?"

"That story's a lie."

"That's what you say.  But God's watching, Enderfall.  He's watching close and He knows."

1452 Hours

Lieutenant Anthony could have told his sergeant more about God than the sergeant would ever want to know.  When the largest creature lifted its head, Anthony could clearly see the mule leg jutting out of its mouth, flexing spasmodically like a toy crane.  After the monster tossed its head, it fixed the lieutenant with a long look.

As though he'd just glanced into the cold stone eye of Medusa, Anthony froze--and stared back.  The giant eye that was turned in his direction was black, living coal.  It did not have the flat death-in-life aspect of a shark's eyes, but a bright, almost amused, almost intelligent gleam.

Anthony dropped to his hands and knees.  He could bear to look no longer, but his legs would not work.  The best he could do was kowtow to death as it prepared to clamp down.  He remained in that position for over a minute--not so much blind to terror, but blinding himself against it.  When he finally looked up and found the creature had once again disappeared behind the dunes, the terror did not fade.  It lay festering inside of him.  It slowed his movements, his thoughts, his soul.  Pushing unsteadily to his feet, he could feel the beast looking out from within, convenient to the murder of his heart.  God had borne down on him.  God had laughed with raucous malice in his ear.

God.  Unmerciful.  Unforgiving.  Without design.  Just God.  And He was Death.

Anthony staggered a short distance before realizing what he'd done.  Still staggering, he retraced his steps and picked up his rifle.  He might as well be dead.  But he was still a marine.

1507 Hours

The two low sheds where all the Chinese save Bonehead maintained their quarters were undamaged, but empty.  Lieber was surprised.  The sand, marram grass and gooney bird nests nearby were twisted and flattened in giant swirls, as if the monsters had held a cotillion.  The German imagined the Chinamen dashing for the shacks and being intercepted before reaching their spurious protection.

Faint voices suddenly halted him.  He circled around the huts.  Behind them the sand crested where one of the creatures had turned sharply.  He stopped and listened.  The island was a caterwaul of screeching birds, panicked donkeys, and the drumbeat movements of the monsters.  He had to wait several moments before hearing the shouts again.  He found the spot along the ridge of sand where the shouting was loudest.  Now he remembered:  There had been a storm shelter here.  He pounded his foot against the ground.

The men below heard.  Their cries grew frantic.

He lay his rifle to the side and began scooping sand.  The shouting grew louder, as though the trapped men believed they could hold Lieber in place with their voices.

"Quiet down!" the marine hissed.  "You'll be stuck here forever if I become knockwurst."

The sand began to jump as the Chinese pushed at the storm door.  A moment later they burst out, gasping for breath.  A half hour more and they would have suffocated.  Their sobs of gratitude were cut short when they saw the sinuous necks beyond the dunes.

"Boat," Lieber whispered.  "Boat."

They knew the word.  And when he pointed, they knew the direction.  They took off for the lagoon with Lieber at their heels.  Rounding a grassy hummock, he ran into Lieutenant Anthony.  It had been about fifteen minutes since he'd last seen him, but the
teniente
wore the craggy expression of a man who'd just seen his wife die of old age.  He said something.

"Sir?" Lieber asked, not understanding.

The lieutenant mumbled something else.  Lieber could still not understand him.  He pointed at the running Chinese.  With an unintended pidgin lilt to his voice, he said, "Boat!  Boat!"

"Good...."  Anthony nodded almost absently and followed.

A rifle shot.

Both marines stopped and looked back.  One of the creatures had moved away from the trapped donkeys.  It made quick darting movements as it came inland.  A moment later, they saw the third volunteer racing in their direction.

"He's leading it to the boat!"

"He's leading it to
us
!" Lieber countered.

They stepped back a few paces, then paused again.

"Goddammit... goddammit...."

Lieber shared Anthony's fear and frustration.  "We can't leave.  He's a stupid bastard."

They kneeled and took aim.

The creature swept up like a land-going cruiser behind the running marine.  It was one of the smaller beasts.  They aimed for its eyes and quickly learned what Ziolkowski had found out with his Rexer.  With its whipping back and forth, scoring a head shot against the creature involved the wildest luck.

Lieber was stunned by the magnificent impossibility of the brute, a planetary rhino at full gallop.  What a thing to stuff, mount, contemplate--for you could not think reasonably about the impossible unless it was stuffed and mounted.

The marine trying to escape was not so appreciative.  He knew he was going to die.  The knowledge forced his mouth and eyes open as if by sharp bamboo splinters.  His howl of protest over his fate could barely be heard over the pounding limbs and the peculiar bleats of the creature.  When he saw the long shadow of its neck descending from behind, he leaped sideways into a drainage ditch.  The creature reacted deftly, as though it had trained for this very maneuver.  Dirt and sand exploded as it rammed its snout into the ditch.  There was a scream as it plucked the man out.

Lieber did not know he was screaming also.  He fired, advanced a few steps, fired again.  The thing was impossible.  It
had
to be controlled!

But a volley of Prussian expletives proved as useless as bullets against the creature.

"Come on!" Anthony shouted.  Determined not to lose Lieber too, he slapped the back of his head to get his attention.  "Marine!  Follow me!"

The creature let out an odd, resonant squeak.  An instant later its green-striped partner poked its head up in curiosity, then began a monstrous scamper over the dunes in their direction.

This was enough to convince Lieber.  He and the lieutenant ran for their lives.  They saw the motorboat already in the shallows, engine idling.  The marine at the stern and the Chinese waved wildly, urging them on.  Raising a splash as they hit the water, they tumbled over the gunwale at full tilt.

"Where's--" the marine at the stern began.

"Dead!" Anthony shouted.  "Go!"

Throttle opened, the boat surged forward.  Its progress was distressingly slow.  The two beasts gained on them.  Lying in the bottom of the boat, gasping for breath, Anthony and Lieber were surprised to hear gunshots over their heads.  The lieutenant turned over.  To his dismay, he saw two of the Chinese had taken up their Springfields and were blasting away.

The Chinese ignored him and fired until they ran out of ammunition.  Lieber jerked away as they reached into his haversack for more cartridges.  He tried to stand.  The boat gave a lurch and he banged against the thwarts.  The Chinese held him down and pulled off his pouch.

"Thieving Chinks!" Lieber cursed through bloody lips.

Sitting up, Anthony saw what was prompting their defiance.  The creatures were in the water not fifty yards away, coming on fast.  The motorboat seemed to be sitting still, though the marine's white knuckles on the throttle showed they were making best speed.  The lieutenant looked ahead.  His heart sank.  Sand Island seemed a world away.  They weren't going to make it.  He opened and closed his hands, as though contacting himself for the last time.

Suddenly, the water around the creatures' heads erupted in a hundred narrow spouts.  Ziolkowski's aim was impeded by the intervening motorboat, but that did not stop him from laying down a blanket of machine gun fire.  The men in the boat shouted when strays hit the wood walls, throwing up painful splinters.  But when they saw all the churning was confusing the beasts, they set up a silent cheer.  Slowly, the boat pulled ahead.

"We live!" one of the Chinese exulted.

"Maybe...."

Ziolkowski stopped firing the instant they hit the beach.  "Back!  Back!" he yelled.

They raced inland.  Lieber risked a glance backwards.  Without the suppressing fire, the creatures quickly reoriented themselves.  They were halfway out of the water.

"Down!  Down!"

"We can't!  They're--"

Something sailed through the air.

"Grenade!"

The concussion felt like a steel plate knocked against their heads.  Another explosion.  This time, hearing the whiz of shrapnel, they dropped to the ground as the fire from the first explosion began setting off the other drums.

The conflagration caught the green-striped creature as it straddled the line of drums.  It yelped in terror as the fire jumped up around it.  The other creature held back, emitting high-pitched squeaks of fear and commiseration.

Baffled and singed, the green-striped creature fell back on the beach.  It flopped in the sand, then rolled away from the fire and flopped in the water.  The other creature scooted over and nudged it inquiringly.

The lagoon blew--seemed to rise in the air.  The high plane of water broke and the head of the largest monster emerged.  The gas-fed flames whipped in circles as it let out a roar that caused the marines and Chinamen to melt into the ground with terror.

Ziolkowski readied his machine gun for a last stand.  His gray veteran eyes popped with disbelief at what happened next.

The biggest serpent attacked the smaller, unburned creature.  It slammed into its flank with a horrific body slap.  The smaller creature let out a screech and dodged the flashing teeth.  A great rip of blood spurted when it was caught at the shoulder, but it swerved sharply and escaped serious wounding.  The larger creature chased it to the mouth of the lagoon, then turned and hurried back to Green Stripes, touching it dotingly with its muzzle and going over every inch like a concerned mother.