Hell Rig (36 page)

Tolson looked at Jeff with rage in his eyes. Finally, he said, “Yeah, I remember. Not Waters, Sims. Son of a bitch.”

Jeff could only agree. “Yeah, son of a bitch.”

“Jeff, I can’t move. Can you?”

Jeff struggled one more time against his living bonds but they only clung tighter. “No.”

“Where’s Lisa?”

Jeff cursed silently. “Fighting Damballah Wedo.”

“Alone?”

Jeff thought of her floating in the air, glowing like quicksilver. “No, I think she has help.”

Jeff heard Tolson grunting as he struggled against his bonds. He stopped after a while, breathing hard. “No good,” he said. “If I only had my knife…anything.”

Jeff felt the warmth of the
gris-gris
growing inside his clenched fist. He knew it couldn’t be real, that the real
gris-gris
must be lying in his hand in his real body back on the platform. It was only an image that his mind had conjured up, but that didn’t stop him. He felt the power it contained, real or not. He struggled to move his fingers, thumb first, then pointer finger. The tendrils circled tighter but when they touched the cloth bag of the
gris-gris
, they withdrew slightly, as if loath to come in contact with it. Twisting his wrist, Jeff brought it close enough to touch the tendrils binding his wrist. They sizzled and turned to powder, freeing his hand. He quickly used it to free his other hand and legs. Small tendrils emerged from the walls seeking him but stayed clear of the
gris-gris
. He rushed to Tolson and repeated the procedure. Tolson fell into his arms.

“How the hell…” he started, and noticed the cloth bag in Jeff’s hand. “Voodoo, huh?” He rubbed his wrists and looked around. “Well, we’re free, but where in hell are we?”

“You may be closer to right than you think.” Jeff touched the wall. It recoiled from him, trembling. A deep imprint of his hand remained. “Maybe we can just walk out.”

Concentrating, Jeff held his hand against the flesh wall. After a few seconds, his hand began to glow white and the wall steamed slightly. Their prison smelled of seared flesh. Concentrating harder, he pushed his fist into the wall. The flesh separated further.

“I feel an empty space beyond,” he reported with some hope. “Come on.”

Like a child emerging from the birth canal, he plunged head first into the opening created by the
gris-gris
. Forcing his head through, he saw first darkness, quickly replaced by the pulsing eye of the storm. He was back on the platform in his body once more, lying on the rough stone floor. He continued to push through the shadow, merging with his body, willing it to move. He still held Tolson’s hand but felt it gradually slip away as his mind and body became one.

“Tolson!” he yelled. He realized Tolson’s body was in the TEMPSC and could not emerge with him.

“Get out of here!” Tolson yelled back, inside his mind.

Just as he yanked his hand free, he slipped the
gris-gris
into Tolson’s hand. He didn’t know if Tolson could use the voodoo charm or not, but at least it might offer some small measure of protection. He felt naked without it.

He looked around for Lisa. The platform shuddered violently and knocked him to the ground. White flames erupted from the opposite side of the platform. He knew she was still alive and fighting. He rushed toward her and saw her lying on the platform. Her sword rested several feet away. Damballah Wedo towered over her, a giant coiled snake toying with its prey. She dropped her arm, leaving her upper body exposed. Damballah Wedo raised his serpent encircled sword, preparing for a final blow.

Jeff did the only thing he could. He yanked the Agwe medallion from his neck, grabbed the hatchet from his belt and wrapped the medallion tightly around it.

“Damballah Wedo!” he yelled. “Eat This!”

He threw the hatchet at the Loa in an act of desperation. Damballah Wedo turned swiftly, easily knocking the hatchet aside with his sword and laughed, but it was just the opening Lisa needed. Jeff watched the color return to her face. She rolled across the platform, lifted her sword from the ground and thrust it into Damballah Wedo’s side. Silver flames exploded in a cascade of sparks as the blade struck home. She leaned into the sword, forcing it deeper into his body. Black flames roiled from the wound and tried to smother her, but her own silver flames fought them back, enveloping her in a shell of arcane energy. Jeff covered his face and backed away from the raw energy of the conflagration.

Damballah Wedo broke away, yanking the sword from his side. Half the blade was gone, melted by the vitriol of his body, but a torrent of black ichor spewed from the wound. Glowing silver threads wound their way deep inside, pulling the edges of the wound open. Black vapors spilled out, poisoning the air around him. He clamped his hand over the wound and hissed in pain, shaking the platform with his rage. He slithered into the shadows and vanished, leaving a trail of black ooze and a vacuum of silence in his wake.

Slowly, Lisa’s flames flickered and died around her. The crystal in the sword continued to glow for a moment more before the remains of the sword also vanished. Lisa shrunk to her true size and collapsed onto the stone floor reaching for Jeff. He rushed to her side.

“Jeff,” she whispered.

“Yes, my love.”

She smiled.

“You did it,” he whispered. “You defeated him.”

Her smile dropped. “No, I only wounded him, but it will do for now. Others are at work, too.”

He looked around. There was no one else around. “What others?” he asked, confused.

“Like me.”

She passed out. As if her will alone had kept them there, the stone platform and columns slowly faded, replaced by the mundane walls of the chemical room. Jeff checked her pulse. It was slow and steady. She would be okay with rest, if Damballah Wedo allowed them time to rest.

She had said others were helping her. They needed all the help they could get. Hurricane Rita was almost on top of them. The platform shuddered under the impact of the waves. He realized they had waited too late. Launching the TEMPSC now was out of the question. As soon as it hit the water, the waves would slam it into the platform’s legs, crushing it like an egg.

He debated carrying Lisa to her bunk, but knew they had no time. Damballah Wedo would recover quickly. After all, he was the Lord of Life and Death. His next attack would be the last. He had milked them of every measure of fear he could expect. Now, only their deaths would matter.

Lisa moved in his arms.

“Lisa?”

She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Oh, Jeff, I failed,” she cried.

He tried to assuage her guilt. “You stood toe to toe with the bastard.” He grinned at her.

“I felt the presence of others.”

“Other Loa?”

“No, other people,
houngans
and
mamboes
. They were sending me their energy and power. It saved me.”

“But it wasn’t enough,” he finished for her.

“Not to defeat Damballah Wedo, no, but while I distracted him, they sought the help of other Loa, storm Loa. Can’t you feel it?”

“Feel what?”

“The storm. It’s moving away from us, to the west.”

He looked at her incredulously. “It’s still beating the hell out of the platform.”

“Yes, but it’s moving away ever so slightly. It won’t hit New Orleans.”

He looked out the door at the clouds scuttling to the west and saw she was right. “We’re still in danger,” he reminded her.

“Yes, but it won’t get any worse. Oh, Jeff, it will pass us by. New Orleans is safe.”

He held her tight, taking comfort from her tender embrace. As far as he was concerned, New Orleans could take care of itself. His concern was Lisa. “What’s next?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. He will recover and return to end it. Even if we die, I don’t think he’ll win now.”

He pulled away. “That doesn’t comfort me very much.”

She sobbed into his arm. “Oh, Jeff, I’m sorry. My part in this started when I was a little girl. I had no choice. It was my fate. I don’t know why you’re here, but you’re still alive and there must be a reason for that.”

Maybe it’s to save you, he thought, or to at least offer you my love before we both die. “I don’t know,” he answered. “It doesn’t matter, now. I’m here with you. That’s good enough.”

“Listen,” Lisa said.

Jeff listened but heard nothing. “What?”

“The storm, it’s getting weaker.”

“It can’t be,” he said but he listened closer. The wind no longer howled in rage. Now it sounded more like an animal growling in frustration. The rig no longer shuddered with each wave hit or tottered precariously on the verge of toppling over.

“We’re in the eye of the storm,” Jeff shouted into the growing silence as realization hit him. His heart pounded with excitement. Now they had a chance. If they could get the emergency craft launched before the eye passed, they could get away from the rig without being crushed. That still left them adrift in the middle of a hurricane, but it was better than waiting on Damballah Wedo to return and finish them off. “Come on.”

Outside, Jeff stopped to stare. Around them, half a mile out, the winds whipped the waves into a white-capped frenzy. Lightning laced the sky and arced from cloud to sea. Waves still churned the sea beneath the platform, but were nothing compared to earlier. The eye of the hurricane was directly over them but moving swiftly. As he watched, the eastern edge of the storm grew ever closer.

“We don’t have much time.”

When they reached the TEMPSC, Jeff was relieved to find Tolson still inside and still alive, though for how much longer, he couldn’t be certain. Tolson’s skin was pale traced with dark lines as the poison spread throughout his body. His face was blank. His mind was still a prisoner of Damballah Wedo. Jeff worked frantically with a rusty hacksaw to cut the lock on the launch mechanism. When he finally managed to pry it loose, he tossed the lock aside.

“Get in,” he told Lisa. “I’ll find an iron bar to launch us.”

“I’ll wait,” she said.

He grabbed her from behind and shoved her inside. “No, once I pry loose the emergency brake, it will launch by itself. I’ll get in somehow, I promise. You just be out of my way.”

Lisa kissed him. “Be careful.”

Jeff spotted a length of two-inch pipe on the deck. He wedged it underneath the metal clamp securing the emergency craft and pulled with all his strength. The steel bent in his hands. He leaned harder on the pipe and heard the clamp snap. The emergency capsule shuddered and shifted position, dropping smoothly onto the rails.

“Get inside,” Lisa called out and reached out her hand.

Jeff grabbed the hatch with one hand, and Lisa’s outstretched hand with the other and leaped. The emergency craft dropped away beneath him, ripping loose his hold. He hung suspended in midair long enough to see the startled expression on Lisa’s face as she realized he had been too late. Suddenly, he was flung aside by invisible hands. He landed on the deck a few yards away and watched horrified as the TEMPSC slid down the rails toward the water. Lisa’s screams cut off abruptly as the door slammed shut and the craft dropped below the cellar deck.

At least the hatch shut, Jeff thought numbly as he watched his only hope of escape disappear. He picked himself up and saw the capsule hit the water with a large splash. He turned to face Damballah Wedo.

The Loa stood a few feet away, his body now human-sized but still an ebony shadow, twisted now by the open wound in his side. Silver threads wove through his maculated skin, throbbing with each breath. Rivulets of dark ichor ran down his body like sweat.

“You will not escape,” Damballah Wedo hissed.

Jeff could smell the rancor emanating from the Loa’s body, the sickly sweet smell of cancerous growth or gangrene. Damballah Wedo was wounded but not down for the count. Jeff shrugged. “I didn’t much expect to,” he answered calmly. He looked at the diminishing storm. “Looks like you’ve lost some of your power.”

“It will return shortly. New Orleans may be safe but there are other souls on which to feed. I shall still succeed yet.”

Jeff shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think so. If looks to me as if old Hurricane Rita is winding down a bit.”

When Damballah Wedo turned and focused his attention on the storm, Jeff did not hesitate. He sprinted for the rail to leap over the side after the slowly retreating emergency raft, but the Loa was too quick. A wall of ebony erupted in front of him, blocking his attempt. Changing direction, he raced to the stairs and took them two at a time. He knew he had one chance only. If he could put some distance between himself and Damballah Wedo, he might have enough time reach the crane, drop the cables over the side, climb down them and swim to the emergency capsule before the waves took it beyond his reach. He did not bother to look behind him, knowing that a dark shadow spilled across the deck at his heels. He reached the main deck and sprinted toward the crane. He hoped there was enough cable. The remote control was still attached but no longer neatly coiled. It was buried beyond his reach beneath a pile of debris.