Dead Waters - Anton Strout [71]
“Maybe it’s time to trade up to a better coat,” I said. The two of us moved to the center of the deck back there, positioning ourselves back to back.
“Yeah, right, kid,” he said. “Soon as you give up the leather.”
“It works like armor,” I said. “Not like that dangly death trap you wear.”
Connor dodged out of the way of one of the creatures. “I prefer mobility,” he said. “Jesus. There’re a lot coming up on my side of the boat.”
“Mine, too,” I said.
“Screw it,” Connor said, stepping away from my back. I heard a meaty crack behind me followed by a splash. “We don’t have to fight ’em if we just knock ’em off, kid.”
I went to move, then stopped as a horrifying thought hit me.
“Wait a second,” I said. “Did I just send Jane up to the front of the boat. . . alone?”
“Yes,” Connor said. “Yes, you did. Now go!”
“Right,” I said. I pulled out my bat and ran for the front. I stepped with care around the slim walkway to the left of the cabin. The head of one of the creatures came up over the side and I flashed my foot out at it, catching it square in the center of its face. The tip of my Doc Martens sank into the flesh like I was kicking a Nerf football, the sound of snapping bone cracking out from it. The body let go of the railing, but didn’t fall now that my foot was holding it up by its face. I shook my leg, fighting down the urge to vomit, before the creature came free and fell back into the water.
The other aqua-zombies were still working their way up the sides, but they were no danger. . . yet. I pulled myself forward along the outside of the cabin, pausing only to grab a four-foot-long gaffing hook. I continued on, making sure my grip was secure on both that and my bat, and then jumping down onto the bow of the boat. I landed on both feet, dual wielding and ready for a fight. Jane was surrounded by a ring of rotting aquatic humanoids as she fell to her knees on the deck, her hands clawing at the back of her shoulder about where the mark was.
“Jane!” I shouted.
She looked up, her face straining as she struggled against whatever the mark was doing to her. Without pausing, I grabbed the long shaft of the hooked pole arm and tossed it to her. It clattered to the now-slime-covered deck and Jane wrapped both hands around it, using it to help her stand before menacing the creatures around her with it. Now that she was armed, I didn’t hesitate. I leapt into action, slamming my bat into the closest creature. The tip of it caught up in its guts, but it crumbled the monstrosity over, leaving me struggling to regain control of my bat. When I pulled it free, I moved on to my next target, but I noticed something strange out of the corner of my eye. Jane wasn’t moving. She was just standing there, stock-still, clutching the pole in both her hands like she was waiting to swing on a trapeze.
“Jane?” I shouted. “Anytime you want to join the fray, you just leap on in there . . .”
Jane still didn’t move. “I. . . I can’t,” she stuttered out.
“What?” I said, feeling a little panic set in. Without her help, I was going to be hard-pressed to fight off all the aqua-zombies by myself.
“I want to help you, but I can’t,” she said, almost crying. “I think. . .I think it’s the mark.”
“Son of a bitch,” I shouted. I cracked the next monstrosity in the head and pushed it overboard using the heel of my boot. Adrenaline kicked in and I felt a bit of a rush while I moved on to struggle against two more of the creatures. I only hoped that when I was done I wouldn’t have to turn my bat on Jane as well.
“Fight it, hon,” I shouted. “You’re stronger than her. Are you going to let that aquatic she-bitch run the show here?”
Jane raised the gaffing pole over her head with a concerted effort, but with each inch she lifted, her face squinted with pain. After a few seconds of holding it up, she collapsed back down to her knees, dropping the pole. “I can’t,” she whimpered.
Connor shouted from somewhere close behind me, startling me. “Is she okay, kid?”
I turned. He had made his way to the top of the cabin, taking the