Chronicles of Jonathan Tibbs 1: The Never Hero (16 page)

There were a series of docks on the edge of Puget Sound. Two of the docks were close together, but with a good difference in height. The first dock was for small crafts and row boats. The other was taller and meant for much heavier vessels. He forced himself forward. His muscles had already tightened on him, rebelling against being required to move, but he was too close. He had to try and stop this thing once more. He had to do whatever it took. One thought of the little girl in the pink jacket was enough to remember why.

He had the
where
, now he just needed to quickly come up with a plan for
how
. A hurried scan of the area didn’t immediately deliver what he was looking for. There were some large crates and more pallets.

He knew that swinging a flimsy piece of wood at the thing would be an exercise in futility. He needed something stronger, something steel and heavy, something entangling. Fighting his body’s resistance and sprinting across the dock he finally found a thick steel chain wrapped around a pillar. It was red-brown from rust and exposure to the salty ocean waters, yet he could feel its resilience, it was still strong.

He had to twist it hard, focusing his strength on a single link of the chain to break a length of it free. He doubted the creature would be able to break it unless it had the opportunity to single out a link like Jonathan had. He ran the loose end through his bare hand, wrapping the steel around his palm and then pulling it behind his elbow and then back through his hand again, closing his fist tight around it.

The creature might have the strength to pull Jonathan’s arm off, he intended to make sure no less would sever him from this chain. Now, he just needed a dangerous place to wait, to draw it in close.

So close death can’t tell us apart,
he thought.

His father’s words this time, rising to the surface, clearing all the noise in his mind, bringing with them the resolve to finish this.

He felt it coming.

A circle of illumination exposed him like a beacon as he knelt at the edge of the smaller dock. He feigned injury, holding his side under the opened jacket, laboring his breathing, making a show of not paying attention to his surroundings. His eyes were facing Puget Sound, his reflection glowing back at him from the water. A man more concerned with attack than pain would worry about being assaulted from behind.

His mind was vigilant, waiting.

He wished there was time to have practiced this. He feared he wouldn’t be able pull it off with only this one shot. There would be no second chance. He felt Sickens the Fever approaching from the east.

It has to think I’m finished, it has to get in close,
he thought,
trust your instinct, do not jump the gun.

He felt the creature moving towards his left flank; it was on the higher dock while he knelt on the lower, a few feet from the edge.

It’s got to be perfect, one shot.
He closed his eyes, focusing completely on the instinct to guide him, wavering as though he were on the brink of collapse.

Jonathan knew when it took the bait. He felt the sudden movement. Sickens the Fever must have become reckless and impatient in its pain. It had jumped and was rocketing toward him in an arch from the higher pier, intending to land directly on him, to crush him beneath it. In that moment, where time raced forward yet slowed down, he had to be patient.

Eyes still shut, he felt it breach the threshold he’d set in his mind as his trigger. He could only hope he’d judged it correctly.

He somersaulted backward. The creature was unprepared for the sudden movement, not suspecting Jonathan had detected its presence. It landed on the dock with its back exposed to him, and he exploited its surprise.

From his kneeling position he jumped, bringing the chain up and over the creature’s head while ramming his knee hard into its spine. He lurched backward with all he had against the monsters throat while simultaneously pressing both knees into its back.

The thing roared in pain when the shackles sunk into its injured neck. Desperately, it tried to pry its hands under the chain and loosen the hold. Jonathan tightened the noose, wrenching left and right to increase the monster’s agony and keep it from getting leverage. It swung itself wildly trying to throw him off. With a final frantic tug he forced it to swing to the edge. It lost its footing and pitched the two of them into Puget Sound, locked together in struggle.

Sickens the Fever’s panic became chaos as it realized it was no longer on solid earth. Its hands left the chain, wildly searching to pull them up, to find the air. Gravity favored Jonathan, the monster’s weight acted like bricks dragging them down into the cold darkness of the water.

Its desperation told him everything, his plan was working.

Gorillas can’t swim for crap,
Jonathan remembered thinking,
and apparently, neither can Sickens the Fever.

It was just a matter of time now, just a matter of who could hold his breath longer. All there was left was to hold on. Sickens the Fever was beginning to choke, to take in water. Jonathan clung to the chain as though it were a part of him.

In that moment, he wasn’t afraid to drown, being the solution to this terrible problem was more important to him than breathing. They sank further down into the thick darkness, the glow from Jonathan’s chest the only thing allowing him to see as they fell further and further from the light of the pier. It was okay if he never surfaced, but he couldn’t let go first. He tried not to swallow in the cold.

Tethered to the monster, Jonathan felt its strength leaving, felt its struggle dying down. He would dig it a grave in the ocean floor, if that’s what it took.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THURSDAY | JUNE 30, 2005 | 11:45 PM

THERE
was a familiar thudding in the distance. It seemed to reach him through muffled ears. Rhythmic and constant, it was pleasant, and at first it was all he was aware of. As it drew closer its meaning started to take shape. He had that feeling again, like he’d never intended to wake up, but wouldn’t be given the choice.

“Jonathan,” said a voice over the thrum of the helicopter.

There was an urge to cough, then he choked up sea water. It felt like he’d been hacking up for quite some time. His eyes were watering with the effort. When he gained enough control over his breathing, he opened his eyes. He was lying on his back and recognized the dock light above him. He was at the end of the pier.

How had he gotten here? He couldn’t remember climbing out of the water. The last thing he recalled was when the monster had stopped moving. Alone, with only the glow emanating from him he’d been unable to see the light of the dock through the depths of the water. He’d been drowning. He remembered taking in water instead of air.

The sound of the chopper was getting closer. He took another breath and his lungs burned with the effort.

“Jonathan, I know you’ve been through a lot tonight, but I need you to sit up.” The voice seemed more familiar now.

He didn’t want to comply. He wanted to lay on the dock forever. He felt hands reaching under him, gently propping him up against a crate. With reluctance and audible annoyance, he let himself be moved. What was one more thing after a night like tonight? Water ran down his face from his hair. He was cold and becoming more aware of it by the second. Sitting was uncomfortable, the movement reminding him of every injury he’d endured.

He could still feel Sickens the Fever on the seafloor below him. How dead would the monster have to be for him to stop sensing its whereabouts? He looked up and searched for the source of the voice.

There he was, the blond man, standing outside the light, his eyes iridescent as he recalled them.

Jonathan couldn’t muster the energy to be afraid. He’d never been this tired. No more than a couple hours ago he’d had a hundred questions for the man. Now he couldn’t think of one.

“Just, just kill me,” Jonathan muttered, “I’m too tired for whatever this is.”

The stranger looked up to the sky, gauging how long before the light of the helicopter might reach them, then he returned to Jonathan, crouching by his side.

“If I had any desire to kill you, I wouldn’t have pulled you out of that miserable water,” he said.

Jonathan doubted the man, but saw that his clothes were as soaked through as his own. Beside them, the man had removed his ridiculous fedora and coat, having placed them on one of the wooden crates along the pier. It explained why Jonathan didn’t remember pulling himself onto the dock. The man looked to be smiling, like he found this situation funny somehow. If the man was grinning because he felt Jonathan should be grateful, he had another thing coming. He was still the reason Jonathan had been drowning in the first place.

“What then?” Jonathan asked. “What could you possibly want?”

“I need you to stay here, Jonathan,” he said, pointing to the dock. “Don’t go anywhere for a moment. I’ll be right back.”

If he’d had enough energy to laugh, he would have. As it was, he hardly had the strength to continue sitting up. He dropped his head and let it rest on his shoulder. As he did so he saw the metal chain still clinging to him. He’d somehow managed to keep it locked around his forearm even after being brought to the surface. He thought about shaking free of it, but even that seemed like too much effort to bother.

The man stood. He paused over Jonathan for a moment, then walked to the edge of the pier. There was the sound of a splash, and a few seconds later Jonathan felt Sickens the Fever move in his head. His alarm was quickly suppressed as he realized that the man must have swum down to the creature’s body. Eventually the stranger’s hand surfaced out of the water and clutched the edge of the dock. As he pulled himself up Jonathan saw that the beast was thrown over the man’s shoulder. He tossed it onto the dock with the respect one would give a dead fish.

He doesn’t plan to give it mouth to mouth?
Jonathan thought. He wanted to look away, just seeing the thing’s dead black eyes made him uncomfortable. Even now he didn’t trust it to stay dead.

The man placed his hand over the torso of the beast and closed his eyes. His hand seemed to be searching for something. It hovered over the body about an inch above the surface of its skin. Finally he stopped his hand over a portion of the creature’s lower abdomen and turned his gaze back to Jonathan.

The man nodded to him as if to say
good, pay attention.
The man returned to his jacket and pulled out two crude looking tools, a small but heavy hammer and a thick metal wedge.

The sound of the helicopter seemed closer now.

Up close, the skin of the creature was dark red with a chaotic webbing of black tar surrounding it. The red skin glistened faintly beneath the long black strands of tar, like the smooth exterior of an amphibian. Only on the creatures chest was the red completely absent, there the black tar looked molded into armor plates suited to the creature’s musculature. It was as though that black tar had reached out in ropes to surround the red skin of the monster’s limbs and back. Jonathan knew the skin of the creature was made of something unearthly. Its durability alone was evidence to that.

Jonathan watched as the man searched the area he’d focused on before. When he found an imperfection in the skin, he drove the wedge in and began to hammer. Eventually a stream of black fluid drained out of the crack that the man had made and pooled onto the dock. Jonathan smelled the familiar odor.

The man made a face that Jonathan thought was distaste. He didn’t take any pleasure from what he was doing and appeared to dislike the smell as much as Jonathan.

“Metal skeleton,” the man said.

Jonathan lifted his gaze, unsure what to make of the statement.

“The creature’s bones are iron based, malleable. They can be bent, but seldom break. That and their armor, their musculature, all makes them very difficult to subdue.”

The man nodded at Jonathan as his hand slipped into the cavity in the creature’s abdomen. It was sickening to watch.

“Why are you doing that?” Jonathan asked.

The man’s hand pulled back out of the body, and Jonathan saw vein-like appendages tearing away from whatever he’d grasped within. Jonathan turned away from the sight. The sound of the veins as they snapped free was disturbing. When the man freed the object from the beast’s body, he stood and walked toward the water. As he did so Jonathan, eyes still on the creature’s corpse, realized that the signal in his head had moved with him.