The Mariner (33 page)

Without any hesitation, the Mariner agreed.

“Excellent, you’ll have our assistance should you need it. But for now go and eat, stock up on supplies, it’s the least we can do for returning young Harris to our fold.”

Captain Heidegger took the Mariner by the arm and, not too gently, ushered him out, through the dimly lit research room and back into the corridor. No sooner as she closed the door on the old inquisitor, did she suddenly turn and push him against the wall, uneven panels jabbing his back.

“Just what the fuck aren’t you telling us?” Her eyes were aflame, the surprising fury leaving the Mariner aghast. Too vast a collection of thoughts and emotions were coursing through his head. On the one hand, here he was on a strange ship surrounded by another possibly hostile cult; true they seemed friendly now, but weren’t they always at first? On the other hand, he’d just had two whiskeys on an empty, practically starving, stomach, and now pushed round by a rather attractive young woman.

“I haven’t told you all sorts of things,” he mused. “But nearly all of them are irrelevant.”

“You think that’s funny? Harris’ crew are dead, or at the very least lost to us. And yet here you are, claiming not only to have encountered the Anomenemy responsible, but that you managed to escape
unscathed?
”

“Not entirely,” the Mariner’s retort was bitter as he remembered a devil lying dead in the sand.

“But you did survive, which means you’re not stupid. And yet you were stupid enough to seek out a creature calling itself an ‘Oracle’. So tell me this: what’s the real reason you visited that island?”

“What can I say? I’m a curious fellow.”

The Mariner tried to pull away, but the woman had the advantage, though it was taking most of her weight and energy to achieve.

“Bullshit!” She pressed him harder, jamming her arm into his neck. Two thoughts seeped into his brain. The first was how restricted his breath had become. The second, that her breasts were pressed against his chest.

“Okay!” he relented, croaking the words. “I’m searching for a specific island. It’s ringed by some sort of barrier. I thought the Oracle might have been it, but it wasn’t. Just another trap.”

“Why search?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember how it began.”

Heidi released the pressure just enough for him to breathe, yet not enough to relax. Suspicion clearly still upon him.

“And knowing this
Anomenemy
is nothing more than a trap, a freak, an anomaly of nature, you’re willing to go back and risk its presence again?”

This point had him stumped. He hadn’t reluctantly agreed, he’d
leapt
at the chance. And why? Because of a dream?

“The Wasp,” he whispered. “I believe she knows of the Wasp.”

Heidi frowned, her anger gone and replaced with uncertainty.

“Is that another Anomenemy?”

The Mariner rubbed his neck, painful dimples where she’d crushed him against a pipe. “I don’t know. Have you heard of it?”

“Sounds vaguely familiar but..” Heidi shook her head, drawing a blank. “Perhaps an Anomenemy spoke of it before its death and we missed it somehow.”

“Perhaps you should try talking instead of killing?”

“If you think that then you haven’t met enough of them.”

You’re wrong
, he thought, remembering the eels.
I’ve met plenty.

Heidi backed away, appraising him with her eyes. Finally she nodded and started down the corridor.

“Are you coming or not? I think a man like you could do with more of that whiskey.”

Amidst the bustle of the ship’s kitchen, the Mariner and Heidi sat upon a small work surface free from activity. Heidi, being second in authority only to Mavis herself, found no trouble at all acquiring a large bottle of scotch, which she emptied into two steins, originally designed for carrying beer, yet generously put to their new task. They drank the fiery liquid, watching a room that never slept.

“How many people are involved?” the Mariner asked, staring in wonder at the huge amount of food being prepared. Sweet scents of roasted meats teased his nose, spices ticked his throat, and chopped onions stung his eyes. Never in his existence had he imagined so many different foods collected in one place.

“Close to three hundred at the last tally,” she said. “Though more join with every day. We offer a slice of the old-world. That’s more than most can resist.”

“Three hundred,” he repeated, whistling through his teeth. “I have no idea how you manage to hold it all together.”

“It’s tough. We had an awful shortage of supplies a while back. Not just food, but medicines, ammo and spare parts. Fortunately we found an old crashed cruise ship to plunder. That solved the food shortages, and once bellies are full, other issues seem to matter less.”

“So you’re looters?”

“Not all the time. Sometimes we get supplies in exchange for services.”

“Services?”

“Killing… Anomenemies,” she added as if needing to clarify.

“Does everyone buy into the old lady’s theories?”

Heidi tilted her head, squinting at the Mariner. In the warm light of the kitchen, she seemed beautiful. Not just from youth, but from a confidence utterly unknown in the Mariner’s world.

“You don’t agree with Mavis’ analysis?”

“I’ve met many mystics and preachers. All promising truths. Right or wrong, she’s one amongst many.”

“No,” she shook her head, loose hair shimmering in the light, enthralling his inebriated brain. “They were superstitious fools, living in ignorance, no doubt contributing to the problem rather than reducing it. Mavis is not like that. Her arguments are justified by science, not faith.”

He shrugged and drank his whiskey.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t understand. Science? All I know is what makes sense, and you make as much as anyone else.”

“You’ll change your mind. When we find this Wasp of yours, we’ll get to the bottom of it.” With a hint of sadness she added, “things will make sense again.”

The Mariner, eyes blurry and manipulated by lust and booze, looked longingly at the captain. She saw his gaze and mistook the admiration for pity, so shook the sadness from her shoulders in one graceful push.

“You’re lucky to be alive.”

“Really?” he asked, surprised at the comment.

“Yes. If you hadn’t brought Harris back to us of your own free will, he would have killed you for your ship.”

“You know this?”

“He’s a ruthless bastard that one, but committed to our cause. A good captain.”

“And are you a good captain?”

She flashed him a drunken smile. A real prize-winner. “The best.”

33
ALL DRESSED UP AND NOWHERE TO GO

T
HE WHOLE CIRCUMFERENCE OF THE
zoo was peppered with rocks and the Kraken proved a sad sight, split upon several jagged boulders, half its bulk straddling the land like a rutting hippo. Wooden beams lay scattered around the cracked hull, splintered and lethal, whilst pools of shadowy water invaded the carcass. To all those gathered outside it appeared nothing more than a tomb. In many ways she was similar to the Neptune in age and construction, and the sight of her cracked carapace was a solemn goodbye to an aged beauty.

The island was quiet, not even the monkeys were making a chatter; they had recently learnt the hard way of the dangers of drawing attention. Grace stood between McConnell and the Mariner, a hand of each clasped in her own, whilst Heidi and Harris organised their followers into position, securing the nearby foliage and setting up sniper positions. Scouts reported the zoo to be safe, but they were taking no chances.

The second confrontation with the Mindless that inhabited Grace’s zoo had been far less fraught with danger than the first. Mavis’ soldiers stalked the forest, executing anything that moved. The initial rush had been chaotic and violent, with the Mindless bellowing their unifying gibberish and charging as one unthinking mass, yet the landing party had been ready. Volley after volley cut through their once-loyal fellows, now ruined by the Oracle’s tinkering. Now they were nothing more than zombies, cannon-fodder for their previous allies. Even Harris, who had presumably once had a close relationship with these men, seemed now to show little remorse in putting them down. These weren’t human beings anymore, they were anomalies of science, ready to be scrubbed out.

Afterwards it had been a slow and thorough search, cleansing the land of the Anomenemies that had taken over it. Along with the occasional Mindless strewn about the forest floor, they found Diane’s cult, heads smashed open and brains smeared amongst the twigs and leaves. Diane herself was recovered from the dolphin pool, drowned, cold and bloated.

Megan, Cedrick and Mary, the survivors of Diane’s misguided cult, were advised to stay behind aboard the Beagle and wait. There was nothing inside the zoo for them to see, only the grim reality of what their home had become, and besides, they were busy trying to find a place for themselves amongst Mavis’ strange order, naturally slipping from one cult to the next.

And finally the landing-party found the crashed ship that had spilt its deadly cargo. A secure perimeter established, they waited for the signal to board.

“What makes you think the Oracle will still be in there?” the Mariner asked Harris, who was keeping close to the three, letting Heidi take the lead in coordinating, acting as a diplomat, or a guard to the three guests.

“We had her locked up in the brig. Unless she can command these zombies, and I suspect she can’t, we’ll find her there. I wouldn’t get your hopes up on speaking with her, it’s been a week, she’ll be starved by now.”

The Mariner looked down at Grace, who’d stubbornly demanded to accompany them, despite both of her adopted guardians insisting she should stay behind.

“Are you sure you want to go in? You’ll be safe out here, we’re just going for a little chat, that’s all.”

“You’ve met her before, right?” she said, biting her lip.

“That’s right.”

“And she didn’t hurt you?”

“Not directly, no. But promise me you won’t look into her eyes, or even respond to any questions she may ask? Let me do the talking.” He looked at McConnell who was nodding along in agreement. “That goes for you too. Whatever else she is, she’s a thief, and she can steal with just a glance. No talking, got it?”

Both nodded and he felt Grace’s small hands clench a little tighter. Harris, who’d been watching the exchange, knelt down to speak with her, wet sand soaking his knees.

“Don’t worry, we’re all armed. Nothing bad can happen.”

Grace gave a brave, unconvincing smile.

Heidi, preoccupied with the deployment of her crew, now gave the all-clear to proceed. Four armed troops waded through the shallow waters into the belly of the Kraken, each pointing their guns into the shadows, scanning for the slightest movement. The Mariner watched as they took positions, just inside the opening, allowing for a second group to move in.

A voice called from inside, with a second affirmation echoing the first. All was clear. With a hand on her holstered pistol, Heidi waded towards to boat.

“Are you ready?” the Mariner asked his companions. Their agreement was set in their grim expressions. It was time to speak with the Oracle.

As they waded through the water, the sight of the ship’s name caught the Mariner’s eye. ‘Kraken’ written in bold dark lettering upon a peeling board, haphazardly nailed in place. Whatever this ship’s true past, efforts had been made to make her anew. Lipstick on a corpse.

Inside smelt rotten. In the initial confusion that had seen Harris dive to the safety of the ocean, many of those who hadn’t succumbed to mindlessness had been torn to pieces and left to decay. Their putrid bodies now lay scattered throughout the water clogged passages; corpses ridden with crabs and other scavenging pests. The salt in the air gave their stink an almost pickled quality and several of the scout parties were forced to stagger, retching into the shallow pools.

As they climbed, rising higher through the internal body of the Kraken, Mavis’ disciplined soldiers flanked them, always taking turns to scout out the passageways on all sides, forever on the lookout for Mindless. None were found, the boat was deserted.

Because of the dim light and the slanted angle of the Kraken’s demise, the ascent was slow, yet this was Harris’ ship and he was able to direct the group on the fastest route to the brig. In and out. No distractions. No talk of rescuing or repairing the ship itself; it had been claimed by the elements. The Kraken had died.

“We’re here,” Harris whispered, cradling a long ornate double-barrelled shotgun, silver trim glinting in the light of a dozen flash-lights. “That door there.”

One of the guards moved to open it, but the Mariner restrained him.

“No, let me. If she sees a familiar face, she might not struggle.”

He crept forward and inched open the door.

Inside was a large room, half bare, the chairs and desk that once adorned it now laying upturned in a corner. The other half was separated into three barred cells, with little more than a wooden board jutting out of the wall acting as a bed.