The sailor on the bridge stood in silence, staring at the door.
He looked over at Tony, who was ignoring it and speaking to VAL. “Flood ballast tanks and initialize descent!” he shouted.
“What the fuck is that?” screamed the sailor. He heard Tony order the ballast tanks flooded. “What are you doing?”
“I’m sinking this ship—and you and me are getting the fuck outta here before that thing on the other side of the door gets in here!”
The sailor didn’t move. He just stared at the door and listened to the horrid sounds from outside the bridge. It sounded like hundreds of wounded animals all screaming in pain at once. His skin was crawling inside the hazmat suit.
“Ballast tanks cannot be flooded. Descent cannot initialize. All systems have failed on Deck Three. Power plant does not respond . . .”
Tony looked at the sailor. “You have weapons on the sub?” The sailor didn’t respond; he was still staring at the door. Tony screamed his question a second time and stood up.
“Not much—just a .45. What the fuck is that?” he asked again in disbelief.
“That’s what killed half our crew. And it can’t be allowed to surface, you understand me? There’s shit out there that ain’t human! And if it gets in here, we’re dead! Are you hearin’ me, mister? It can’t be allowed to surface! I need to get to the power plant on Deck Three and manually flood the ballast tanks. But I can’t get in there without some serious weapons!”
“Sorry, Skipper—we’re a rescue sub, not a warship. All we have is one pistol. That’s it. A .45.”
“Damn it,” said Tony under his breath. “How did you get here? Ship or chopper?”
“Chopper.”
“Any ships in the area?”
“Nothing immediate, but I know a cruiser was sent out here to pick you up once we surface. The sub tender won’t make it out here for at least two weeks.”
“You have a radio on board that can call fleet?”
“Sure.”
“Okay—then we’re getting outta here and surfacing. And then you’re gonna call in an air strike and blow the shit out of this vessel.”
“Skipper, with all due respect—there’s no way they’re gonna fire on your sea lab. I was sent here to rescue you, not sink your ship.”
“You wanna open that door and see what’s outside?” Tony screamed.
From up in the DSRV, Jessica shouted for them to hurry.
The sailor looked at the door. The sounds outside were otherworldly. The door’s locking wheel seemed to move ever so slightly. The sailor moved toward the ladder. “Sir, I think we need to get out of here—now!”
Tony raced up the ladder, into the tiny sub above them. It had a five-man crew and enough room for twenty cramped passengers. The DSRV pilot and copilot were sealed in a forward compartment away from the belly of the sub, where three rescue workers and the passengers could sit on two long bench seats that faced each other. Tony climbed up and then helped pull up the rescue sailor. The sailor reached down to close the bridge hatch on the Challenger.
“No! Don’t seal it up! Let it flood!” screamed Tony.
The sub commander, also in a hazmat suit, moved to the rear of the ship where Tony was sitting.
“Excuse me?” he barked.
“You gotta flood it! That ship has to sink, Skipper! And fast! Before those things get inside the bridge!”
“What things? What the hell are you talking about? I was told you had an infectious disease aboard and needed immediate rescue?”
“Infectious, yes—but there’s fucking monsters on that ship! It has to go down!”
The skipper suddenly understood. “Ohhh . . . okay, son. You just relax and we’ll take care of the sea monsters, okay?” he spoke in his most soothing paternal voice.
He looked at the original rescue sailor and whispered, “These guys are narced pretty good, Ethan. Just keep everyone calm and we’ll get ’em some help.”
“Uh, Skipper? I don’t think these guys are narced.”
“What?” he exclaimed, more than just a little annoyed. “Do you think we’re gonna just sink a multibillion-dollar submarine ’cause that sailor’s been down too long?”
“Sir, there’s something on that ship. I heard it, too.”
Tony saw the two of them arguing and realized what was happening. He moved back toward them. “Skipper, I’m not hallucinating! There are things on that ship that killed our crew! You need to flood that bridge and get the fuck out of here!”
The skipper pointed a finger at Tony. “Stand down, sailor!”
The noise from the sea lab below reverberated through the DSRV.
“That’s what killed our crew! Now you wanna go meet them?” screamed Tony.
Jessica and Theresa both started screaming, “Get us out of here!”
The rescue sailor looked at the skipper. “Sir, they’re right outside the bridge door. I think we should listen to him and surface.”
“Oh, is that right?” screamed the skipper, slightly fogging his own protective face mask. “Are you going to pay for the sea lab, mister?” He pushed his way past the sailor and began climbing down the ladder.
“Where are you going?” Jessica asked incredulously.
“Don’t!” screamed Theresa.
Tony just shook his head sadly.
The young sailor looked back and forth between Tony and his commander.
The commander hopped down off the ladder and looked around. It was a mess but otherwise seemed to be normal. He could hear the ship’s hull groaning as it expanded in its ascent. It was much louder than usual, yes, but nothing to be so freaked out about. The poor crew was obviously suffering from narcosis. He approached the door and spotted the bottles of what looked like water all over the floor. What the hell had been going on in here?
The noise outside changed. What had been a groan of the ship was now followed by hundreds of other noises. They were eerie. What was going on down here? He looked back at the ladder and considered leaving. And tell the admiral what? he thought. It was “spooky,” so I sunk a multibillion-dollar research project?
He walked over to the watertight door and grabbed the wheel.