Hell Rig (37 page)

He dove at the cable and began dragging it toward the railing. Behind him, Damballah Wedo slowly drew himself together, coalescing into human form once again, taking his time. Jeff flung the cable over the side. Too short! He looked down at the remarkably still water below him. It was tempting, but he knew it was too high to jump. He would kill himself if he tried. Too many metal struts and pipes extended beyond the edge of the deck below. He judged the cables were twenty feet shy of the water but there were no obstructions below the hook. He estimated it would take him about thirty seconds to slide down the cables through the maze of pipes. He didn’t think he had that long. Damballah Wedo was growing impatient.

He turned and faced the Loa. He thought he was prepared for death, but as he looked into the Loa’s crimson eyes, he discovered differently. Death would have been a release, but what Damballah Wedo offered was not death, but lifelessness. He knew he didn’t stand a chance of reaching the water before Damballah Wedo killed him. The Loa had been merely toying with him earlier, feeding on his fear. He stood glaring at Jeff for a moment before lifting his arm. Black drops of ooze dripped to the platform and began to bubble ominously. From each drop sprang a hellish creature. Once, they might have been human but no longer. The heads were feral, narrow with long snouts, tiny ears and beady red eyes. Sharp fangs dripping black venom protruded from lipless, drooling mouths. Their bodies were long and sinuous but they had four stubby legs with long claws. There were a dozen of them, shadow creatures. They scratched hungrily at the deck, eager to be unleashed on their prey.

Jeff looked around for a weapon but found only a length of rusty pipe protruding from the deck. He yanked it loose and tested its weight in his hands. It felt uncomfortably light for his needs. He caught a whiff of natural gas spewing from the hole he had just made in the deck. He struggled to think of a way to use the gas as a weapon without killing himself in the process, but came up empty. He had given Sims his lighter earlier. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the bright red hull of the TEMPSC moving slowly away from the platform. The sea anchor was out to help stabilize it, slowing the vessel. Lisa had not yet started the engine. She needed to do so quickly. He hoped Lisa and Tolson made it. They would if he could hold the Loa’s attention a bit longer. He took a deep breath.

“It’s just you and me, Weedy old boy,” he yelled. “Give it your best shot.”

Laughter spilled from the Loa’s mouth and poured across the platform, shaking it like a leaf in the wind. Jeff danced a seaman’s jig to remain upright.

“You are mine,” Damballah Wedo pronounced with a finality that shook Jeff’s confidence.

Two of the creatures lunged at Jeff. He slammed the end of the pipe against one’s head so hard it numbed his hands, and quickly swung the other end down and under the second’s front legs. It fell, knocking the first down also. They scrambled quickly to their feet with a scratching of claws, unphased by the blows. He backed against the rail to prevent them from blindsiding him.

The two creatures moved to each side of him. Before they could attack, he leaped at the one on his right and delivered a two-handed blow to the creature’s head. With a satisfied thud, the creature’s skull cracked and black ooze poured out. The creature fell to the deck, pawing frantically.

The second creature attacked as his back was turned. Fire erupted in his thigh as sharp claws raked through cloth and skin. Blood rolled down his leg. Doubling over and falling to his knee saved his life. The foul stench of the creature’s breath enveloped him as the fangs passed within inches of his face as he dropped. He shoved the end of the pipe down the creature’s throat and heaved with all his might. The creature slid backwards across the deck until it reached the railing. With a final shove, he forced the creature beneath the railing and it plunged with a whine to the water below. Protruding pipes tore into its body as it plummeted. When it hit the water, the creature exploded into a black liquid that quickly evaporated on the surface.

Already nearly exhausted, he turned to face Damballah Wedo. Half a score of the minions remained, rubbing against the Loa’s legs like kittens from hell. He knew he did not stand a chance against them. He already felt light headed from the gas fumes. Suddenly, one of the creatures began to spasm. It reared on its hind legs and shuddered violently. A black blotch appeared on its skin. From the blotch, a hand came into view—Tolson’s! Nestled in his palm was Digger Man’s
gris-gris
. He was using it to punch through the shadows of his prison.

Tolson tossed the voodoo charm toward Jeff. His arm began to slip back inside the creature’s body, but not before he firmly grasped the creature’s head, yanking it after him. Slowly the creature shook itself to pieces as its body enfolded on itself. Dead, it fell to the deck and evaporated.

Jeff lunged at the
gris-gris
and welcomed its warmth as it vibrated in his hand. Damballah Wedo roared and the creatures scattered across the platform yelping, momentarily released from his control. Jeff remembered how Lisa’s silver sword had melted into the Loa’s body. He stuffed the
gris-gris
into the pipe and ran at Damballah Wedo, who was still venting his rage, paying Jeff no attention.

The pipe entered the open wound in Damballah Wedo’s side. Jeff twisted it to drive it deeper. He barely saw the Loa’s massive hand as it swatted him away as one would a fly. Jeff landed several yards away gasping for air, his chest sore and bruised. At first, he thought his gesture had been futile, but a change came over the Loa. Fingers of lightning stretched from the sky, forming a hand. The ethereal hand grasped the pipe and it began to glow a brilliant white. The brighter it became, the deeper it sank into Damballah Wedo’s corrupt flesh. His body trembled violently in a volley of spasms that threatened to shake him apart.

Jeff realized with a start he was laying beside the hole that was spewing natural gas. It lay in a thick, invisible layer across the deck. It was time to leave. Cracks appeared in Damballah Wedo’s ebony shell. White light broke through in blotches, eating at his flesh. With a sudden blast that seemed to rival the sun in intensity, the black shadow in which he had wrapped himself exploded away in layers. The natural gas erupted as Jeff leapt for the cable. He slid down the cable fending off pipes with his feet, heedless of the wire slivers slicing into his hands and forearms. He felt the heat of the explosion rush over him as he dropped beneath the level of the main deck. The crane swayed from the explosion but thankfully remained upright. He could smell the acrid odor of singed hair and flesh, noticing it was his own, but realizing also that he was alive.

Jeff uncovered his eyes and looked up as Damballah Wedo stood amid the raging flames. He was no longer a giant; he was a man, black and handsome with finely chiseled features wearing a white linen suit. He stared down at Jeff clinging to the cable with a wry smile.

“So you think you have won,” he said, his red eyes boring into Jeff’s. The Loa was not completely released from his own possession.

Jeff looked beyond Damballah Wedo’s shoulder at the approaching storm. The eye was closing. The Gateway shimmered less spectacularly now. In fact, it seemed to shrink even as he watched.

“I think I have,” Jeff answered.

“There is still time.”

Jeff saw figures moving in the clouds, storm Loas.

“Not for you,” Jeff answered.

Damballah Wedo noticed the direction Jeff was staring. He turned just as a bolt of white-hot lightning raced from the cloud to the standing figure. His scream was lost in the peal of thunder that followed but it echoed in Jeff’s head. Hands reached from the clouds and plucked the struggling Loa from the deck. He disappeared into the sky, writhing and screaming. Jeff let go of the cable and dropped twenty feet to the water. He hit feet first but the impact still stunned him. He sank quickly, watching the metal legs of the platform slip by. It was all over. They had won. Lisa was safe. The water embraced him in welcome. As his vision dimmed, Lisa’s face appeared before him and his heart swelled. He struggled to move his arms and legs. He would not die this way, not after all he had been through. He forced his way to the surface and sputtered, drawing in a lungful of fresh air. He looked at the sky.

Damballah Wedo was gone. The storm did not die—hurricanes are acts of nature—but Jeff could see it growing weaker as Damballah Wedo’s arcane influence lessened. It now looked like a storm, not an evil force. He knew it would miss New Orleans and strike the coast of Texas. People would die, but in a natural way, their souls would remain their own.

The platform began to tremble as the wind picked up again. The explosion had weakened the already unbalanced deck. The ominous sound of rending metal filled the air. Rust and small bits of metal debris rained down on him, becoming larger bits as the platform shook itself to pieces. He began to swim. The wind at his back helped as he pulled with all his strength for the TEMPSC. As he neared, the hatch opened and Lisa reached down to pluck him from the water. He crawled in, his wounded leg throbbing, and looked back at the platform. Like a crippled giant, it slowly crumbled and fell into the sea with the groan of a score of dead men. The water boiled for a few minutes and a black vapor erupted from the waves, which the wind dissipated quickly. The Hell Rig was gone and with it, the last traces of Damballah Wedo.

The Loa was not dead, Jeff knew, but it would be a long time before he could again accumulate so much power. He would be watched over closely by his fellow Loa.

Jeff crawled in, lay down and locked the hatch behind him. He looked over at Tolson. Tolson was awake. He still looked near death but had a smile on his face.

“Thanks,” Jeff said.

Tolson weakly waved a hand in dismissal. “I finally figured out how to use the damn thing,” he said, referring to the
gris-gris
. “You have to believe in it.”

Jeff looked back at Lisa. He had thought never to see her again. Her eyes were still wide with fright, as if she were not certain it was really over. He reached for her, pulled her to him and kissed her. She was shaking from fear as she melted into his arms, but he felt her trembling stop after a while. She looked up at him.

“I thought you were dead.”

“Not yet.”

She buried her head in his chest.

“Jesus,” Tolson exclaimed. “You two need a room.”

Lisa held out her cell phone to Jeff. A small smile creased her lips. “Look. It’s working now. I called the Coast Guard. They said they would send out a helicopter. We’re going to make it, Jeff.”

Jeff just nodded, unsure of how to reply. Outside, the waves grew rougher and the wind picked up. Hurricane Rita had switched directions and had lost energy, but she wasn’t dead. They were in for a rough ride for the next few hours, but now they faced a natural force, a creation of wind, water and heat, not a supernatural being. Lisa was right. They would survive. They would remember and be on guard for the next time.