on Mildred with enough speed to save her before she lost buoyancy, there was no way they would reach her before the eel. It was moving too fast and its diagonal course would take it to her long before them.
J.B. was on the far side of the raft. Although he had untangled one arm from the ropes and pulled free his M-4000, which with its charge of barbed metal fléchettes would be sure to at least cause the beast enough damage to slow and distract it, there was no way he could get a clear shot at the creature without the risk of clipping one of the other occupants of the raft, particularly as the waves continued to toss the raft from crest to crest, making a steady aim almost impossible.
Doc seeing the frustration in the Armorer’s face, and realizing what lay in his way, decided to take action of his own.
“Have no fear, dear John Barrymore, I have a clear view,” he yelled, untangling his arms so that he was able to move freely. Changing position with a speed born of urgency, he moved around on his knees, swaying wildly as the floor of the raft moved beneath him, but determined to follow through his avowed course of action. Pulling the LeMat percussion pistol from its secure place in his belt, where he had also secured his silver lion’s-head swordstick, he spread his knees and rooted himself as firmly to the floor of the raft as was possible. Holding the LeMat in both hands to try to attain a steady aim in such hostile conditions, he fixed his eye on the eel as it moved swiftly and smoothly through the water. With each stroke of the oars they were closing on Mildred and the eel, but the creature was closing in on her with more speed.
“By the Three Kennedys, you shall not have her you foul creature of eldritch imaginings,” he yelled before letting loose with the shot charge. The recoil, in such unsteady conditions, threw him back on his haunches. He pushed forward and let fly with the ball-charge barrel before having a chance to aim properly, knowing that there wasn’t enough time and that he couldn’t guarantee another moment of steady aim in these conditions.
Doc’s trust in his instinct was justified, although he couldn’t have foreseen the consequences. The shot scored the creature on its side, up near the point where its head almost seamlessly joined with the sinuous length of its body. The smooth blue-black scale was ripped apart by the shot, tatters of skin exploding to show white flesh and blood that began to pour into the sea as the creature suddenly changed direction, blind fury and pain causing it to twist in the water as it tried to locate the source of its pain.
Turning was the worst thing it could have done. As its head shifted, the ball charge sped toward it, hitting the marbled black eyeball with a force that exploded the dark, expressionless orb, the viscous contents splattering out to mix with the spume from the waves as the ball shot continued through into the creature’s brain. All functions ceased other than the purely motor, which took a little while longer before the eel’s nervous system finally lost the last spark of life. This was barely more than a few seconds, but long enough for the creature to wreak one last piece of havoc.
As the raft powered by Jak and Dean came closer both to the creature and to Mildred’s prone body, so it came within range of the falling body of the eel. As the creature twisted in its death throes, its downward trajectory brought it in line with the craft.
“Oh my sweet Lord,” Doc breathed as the creature hung for one moment in the air before lifelessly plunging toward them as he jammed the LeMat back into his belt.
J.B., at the rear of the raft, had time to yell, “Take cover, it’s coming down!”
The Armorer secured himself to the ropes as Jak and Dean dived for handholds. But Doc seemed transfixed, still on his knees.
“Doc!” J.B. shouted helplessly as the sun was blotted out by the falling creature. Then all sense was lost as the corpse of the eel fell heavily on the raft, thrusting it beneath the waves and throwing Doc from the interior as the other three occupants held on for dear life.
Ryan and Krysty watched in despair, unable to do anything to help, and yet there was a chance consequence that was of some benefit, at least. As the corpse of the creature drove the other raft under the sea, the impact combined with the conflicting tidal currents to lift the raft with the one-eyed man and the red-haired woman onto a wave that swept them onto a collision course with Mildred, herself lifted up on the current and pushed in a random direction.
“Grab her, quick,” Krysty said through salt-crusted lips, her voice a hoarse bark. Ryan moved as quickly as he could and joined her at the side of the raft, reaching for Mildred as she was swept past. She was still unconscious, but between them they were able to grab her coat and then get a grip on her body. As the woman was weighed down by the water in her clothes, and the deadweight of her senseless state, it wasn’t easy for Ryan and Krysty to haul her into the raft, particularly as their muscles were battered, bruised and weakened by the assault that had taken Mildred from them initially. However, with much cursing and no little effort, they were able to haul her into the raft.
Sinking back, Krysty sighed. “Thank Gaia for that—but what about the others?”
Ryan, still gasping for breath after the last effort and scanning the ocean surface as he clung grimly to the ropes around the raft, could see no sign of the other raft. Then, just as he was about to speak, his breath was taken away by a sight that defied belief. The raft with Jak, Dean and J.B. shot up from the depths, having squirmed free from beneath the falling chilled flesh of the creature by its natural buoyancy. It cleared the surface of the water, and, having avoided being caught by a wave, righted itself with less of a bone-jarring crunch than Ryan and Krysty had experienced.
“Dark night, what was that?” the Armorer spluttered, trying to clear his mouth and lungs of salt water, coughing heavily.
“Fucker chilled now,” Jak rasped. “Look for Doc more important.”
“Over there,” Dean retched, pointing to where Doc was visible as he bobbed up above the waves.
The oars had gone from the raft, but the current was pushing them roughly in the right direction. Doc had hit the water from less of a height than Mildred and had been able to keep conscious. He was weakly striking out toward them with as much energy as he could put into the breaststroke. Jak leaned over as Doc got within range and took hold of one of the older man’s hands, using all the strength in his wiry frame to pull the old man toward the raft. Dean leaned back to counterbalance as J.B. joined Jak in helping pull Doc into the raft.
Both rafts were now adrift without oars, at the mercy of the tidal currents. Waves brought the two rafts close enough for the occupants to be able to shout across to each other.
“What the hell do we do now?” Ryan yelled. “No fireblasted paddles.”
“What can we do except hope?” J.B. shrugged. “Is Millie okay?”
Ryan shook his head. “Still out cold. I’d feel happier if we could get her on dry land, warm and dry. But how the hell do we get past this bastard current?”
“Sea take us over this,” Jak pointed out, indicating the fact that the waves had now swept them across the bulk of the choppy waters. “Mebbe we hit tide, take us into island,” he added.
“He’s right, lover,” Krysty whispered hoarsely to Ryan. “Look.”
The white water was now behind them. The tidal current that swept toward the shore of the island had now gripped them and, slowly but inexorably, the sandy strip of beach was moving closer.
Chapter Three
Twilight’s last gleamings
