Song of the Sirens (19 page)

When the moment of surprise stole her
features, she sucked her tongue back into the partially exposed mouth cavity.
She opened her mouth to shriek as I snapped out of the trance, grabbed the
doorknob, and slammed the door shut.

I locked the door and bolted the
barrier. I retracted my hands as if jerking away from a fire. I forced my feet
to take a step back as my sights locked onto the doorknob. I expected it to
jiggle. I expected the she-beast to bang against the door, thrash against it,
and lunge for me.

A horrible death flashed across my
thoughts of her razor teeth consuming me and her claws ripping me to shreds. I
had to run. Her song could infiltrate solid objects, and I felt it squirming to
get back into my head through the door.

I clutched my head and focused on
maintaining the barrier, and at the same time, turning to run.

As soon as I pivoted on my heels,
preparing my legs to sprint through light or darkness, I faced someone. I
yelped, raised my hand, which gripped the flashlight, and swung at the
intruder.

Riley grabbed my wrist in mid-air. In
one swift movement, he seized the weapon and took a step back. “What are you
doing?”

With wide eyes and clenched fists, I
blurted, “She’s down there.”

Riley tilted to the side and looked past
me at the locked door. Just then, the song ceased. I wiped the sweat from my
brow. Mental fights drained just as much energy as physical ones.

Riley handed the flashlight back to me.
I took it with anxious hands.

“Go back to your room,” he ordered in an
odd, calm tone.

I didn’t move. I stared as if his words
didn’t register.

He repeated his command with a stern
voice. Riley took a step around me. I turned as he passed. I clutched his arm
and pulled him back.

“You can’t go down there. She’s crazy,
bloody, she’ll kill you.”

Riley placed a hand on my shoulder,
craned his neck down, and looked me in the eyes. “You have to lock yourself in
your room.”

“But my father,” I interrupted.

“I moved him, he’s safe. I told the guys
to lock up for the night because the seas are rough. I called in the coast
guard to come as soon as they can. I can’t worry about your safety. I need to
trust that you’ll lock yourself away so I can concentrate on my job.”

“Are you going to kill her?”

He nodded once and drew his arm back. He
looked down, and I followed his gaze. He held something in his palm, something
that sparkled and caught the light on a wicked curve.

“Go,” he ordered.

I nodded and took several steps backward
before turning. I made a beeline for the door when something of importance caught
my attention. I grabbed a large butcher knife and ran out.

I paused at the door to glance at Riley.
He made a curious face as the knife shook in my trembling hand. I gripped it
with ferocity so that my knuckles appeared white.

Riley didn’t stop me. He swung around
and reached out to unlatch the basement door.

Adrenaline flowed through every vein and
filled every part of me. I slammed through the doors and nearly hit my head on
the railing when I slipped. Riley and the she-beast dripped seawater everywhere,
and it left near deadly puddles all over. I didn’t have time to look down and
watch every step. I kept my eyes high and straight ahead, twitching at every
sound, and observing every nook to avoid an ambush.

The sirens had a give-away sign,
however, which I planned to use against them if we came face to face again.
They used their song to entrance their victims, I understood that, but they
expected their victims to cower in fear or remain crippled with awe. I felt
divided both in concentration and in energy when I fought to keep my mental
barrier up and flee. I believed it to be the same for the sirens.

Maybe their song weakened when prey fell
under their control so they could focus on eating. If this was the case, they
were in for a brutal awakening if I came across another one. If they caught me
in their song again, and quieted their melody to concentrate on feeding, I
planned to attack.

Although, I prayed I would never
encounter a situation to test my theory.

I slammed against the corridor wall as another
wave hit us. I continued and skidded past a dark research room and peered
inside to determine if Riley lied. I didn’t see my father on the cot. He must
be safe and somewhat sound back in our room.

A strange odor assailed my nostrils. The
rusted iron, metallic smell wasn’t overly foul, but strange. I hadn’t smelled
it before.

I stepped into the room and flipped on
the switch. A brilliant fluorescent light illuminated the entire area and
revealed the source of the smell.

I covered my mouth and nose with the
anterior of my elbow and gagged. My eyes watered and blurred my vision. My
stomach heaved; the beginning of a strong, visceral reaction. I wanted to
vomit.

The room had never been pristine, but
decent, until now. Bright red blood was splattered against everything—the
walls, the ceiling, the floors, the furniture. Thick, coagulated blobs dangled
from a lamp and chair.

I bit my lower lip and lowered my eyes.
Ten almost parallel smears streaked across the floor from the largest puddle of
blood to the closet. The left door remained closed, while the right side had an
inch thick gap opening.

Was Dad actually safe and sleeping away
a coma in our room, or had he been dragged away to a gory death?

I gulped. Common sense warned me to stay
away, to fight off curiosity, to fend off the need for an answer. I could run
to my room and find out if Dad was there, but that didn’t happen.

Lowering my arm, I carefully stepped
around the bloodstains, which wasn’t easy to do. Blood was everywhere! I’d
never seen more than a drop of human blood in my life, maybe a small gush from
a cut at the most. I’d never stepped in it, and didn’t plan on doing so now.

After a few feet, there weren’t enough
dry spots to walk on. I closed my eyes and cringed when I first set foot on a
bloody area. It squished and felt slippery beneath my shoes.

Quickening my pace, I went to the closet
and stopped. I breathed, and prayed my father had not been the unfortunate soul
to meet a siren.

With a tight grip, I used the flashlight
to slide the door to the left since body fluids desecrated the edge. I didn’t
want to touch blood. I gripped the knife in my other hand and prepared to kill
a siren.

Light from behind me shone into the
small space. I opened the closet door in one quick slide. The sight sickened
me.

I turned my head and faltered, stepping
into a large puddle. Blood splattered against the soles and sides of my shoe. I
turned just enough to avoid covering my shoe in vomit. I hurled small chunks,
accompanied by heaving groans.

When the last possible bit of barfed
stomach contents hit the floor, I wiped my mouth with the inside of my forearm
and slowly looked back at the corpse.

The siren ripped and ate his limbs.
Chunks of meat laid exposed, glistening with red moisture. Stringy fibers clung
to shredded clothes. His entrails suspended from gaping wounds in his stomach.
An empty cavity in his chest led me to believe she ate his heart, as well.

The entire left side of his face was
gone, as was his nose. The majority of his neck was gone, too. The entire
closet was a bloody mess. I couldn’t tell who it had been but silently prayed
it wasn’t Dad. My stomach tied into knots and a lump formed in my throat. What
if it was Dad? What if my last family was gone and I all alone faced a
worthless existence without him?

I shook my head and shoved the horrible
ideas aside.
Think positive
. That’s all I could do.

I closed the closet door and stepped
aside. As I lifted my eyes before turning, I faced familiar shapes on the wall.
Hand and foot prints stamped the wall in blood. I hyperextended my neck and
followed the prints.

The siren had walked up walls and across
ceilings. She must’ve walked upside down to avoid anyone she didn’t want to
deal with.

My scope of observation extended to a
three hundred and sixty degree surveillance. I walked back to the door. Once I
left the bloody arena, I turned off the lights and took off my shoes to avoid
leaving a bloody trail.

I carried my shoes and hurried to my
room. My eyes darted all over, ahead, above, to the sides, behind.

When I reached my room, I closed and
locked the door behind me. I faced an empty bottom bunk. I carefully put my
shoes in the corner and the flashlight and knife on the table.

I grimaced. Dad wasn’t here. Where did
Riley take him? I chose to believe that mutilated body was not my father. It
couldn’t be! I whimpered.

I looked up to make sure a siren wasn’t
crawling on the ceiling. After checking the bathroom and closet, and beneath
the bunk bed, I pulled out a chair, turned it, and sat down facing the door. I
kept the flashlight on the table behind me, and placed the knife on my lap,
keeping my hand on top of it.

I intended on staying put, locked up to
protect myself. I couldn’t go out there and search a desolate ship for my
father while the siren hunted me. I wouldn’t open the door unless Dad, Riley,
or the coast guard knocked.

I stared at the light beneath the door,
waiting for a shadow. Visions of the siren and the dead man in the closet
flashed through my mind. I didn’t know if I would survive, but I knew those
images would never fade.

I groaned and rubbed my temples. Bad
thoughts slipped through.

“Ah,” I moaned.

A sharp pain cleaved at my chest. It
began in the diaphragm and stretched up and outward across the lungs and below
to my throbbing heart. The simultaneous pain felt unbearable. I didn’t know
which pang was worse, the lagging physical strains of tonight or emotional
turmoil of losing Dad.

I suppressed the cries. The heat rose to
my neck and cheeks, and my throat ached. I couldn’t become emotional and cry,
but I couldn’t help but to think of life without my father.

Mom died when I was young. I didn’t have
siblings, and Dad never re-married, but instead concentrated his time and
energy between me and work. With the exception of losing Mom, I loved this
life, until last night.

As I waited for further instruction, or
faced the primitive need to defend myself from sirens who would consume me
alive, my entire life wafted through my mind. The hopes and expectations of
life withered and curled into a gray hole. The vortex sucked in any and all
optimism, and the future shriveled into nothing. Just a vast, black stretch of
space faced me. How could I survive if my father died?

Closing my eyes, I muttered, “Please, be
okay, Dad. Please, be okay.”

Chapter Thirteen

As I waited, I tried to keep my mind off
Dad. I scribbled down this strange odyssey in my journal. Mundane, ordinary
gibberish spewed across the pages. Nothing of substantial worth filled the
journal, until now. King Neptune would make sure I forgot everything in a
matter of time, but I needed to know this valuable information if the sirens
and I met again, or worse, if the sirens made it to land.

Wails sounded below. I widened my eyes
and gripped the edge of the seat. I sure hoped the wails came from the siren as
Riley annihilated her.

I rocked back and forth. I wanted to
curl in on myself, disappear, and wake up in bed at home, not remembering any
of this!

I stuffed the journal beneath my
sweatshirt, tucking it into an inside pocket.

The digital clock changed every minute,
and every minute pounded through reality. Had it been clock hands, the constant
ticking would’ve drove me insane.

The bright side of things proved I
wasn’t crazy. On the other hand, the bad side of things was that I
wasn’t
crazy! This crap was real!

As time passed, disturbing visions
plagued me. Siren after siren latched onto the boat and crawled up the slippery
sides, slumped over the railing, and scattered in search of human heartbeats.
One door after another exposed meaty, bloody, sleeping men ripe for eating.
Unsuspecting humans acted as easy targets with lowered mental barriers. They
lacked weapons, defense.

As the sirens’ tummies grew fat with
food, their bodies lengthened and expanded with nourishment. They grew tentacles,
wrapped around the boat, and crushed it in the waves. The ship tipped over as
the tempest increased. The waves devoured the boat and her lights, along with
every last morsel of hope for the rest of us.

I jumped. A hard pound crashed against
the door, which rattled, and the doorknob jiggled. I stumbled to the door,
cursing under my breath for having made noise, and peeked through.

“Riley?” I asked and flung open the
door.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

I threw my arms around his neck and
crushed my body against his. My embrace took him off guard. He staggered back
before placing his hands on my hips. He exhaled into my hair, then pulled away.