Kraken (28 page)

He raised his eyes upwards, and Will felt an enormous sense of gratitude that he got to see the stars one more time. He fought to keep his eyes open, as he watched the cold lights dancing. The stars were circling, whirling, drawing patterns in the sky. They grew larger, swirling like a snowstorm, and Will wished he could raise an arm to touch them.

His eyes fell shut as a warm blanket covered him, soft feathers flickering in gentle caresses over his naked arms, legs, back. The sharp points of pain tearing into his flesh made him jerk them open again, in time to see the ground falling away. He felt dizzy with vertigo, no longer anchored to the world. The clearing and the trees were getting smaller, more distant, and then he was over the trees, olive-black and midnight. He closed his eyes to dream of the endless ocean, under dark starlight.

The shock of hitting the water made Will gasp. Cool liquid filled his lungs as the sea enfolded him. He sank, looking upwards through the surface mirror to the white above. The sky fractured and fall apart, as hundreds, thousands of birds wheeled and dove. Owls, egrets, tiny finches flew and turned like feathered sparks. The water seeped into the myriad of claw marks pounced into Will’s skin, and he closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

He hovered in the endless space between surface and depth, gathering the ocean to him, feeling the life flow into him, around him, in its unnumbered forms. He was in no hurry; the ocean had been here four billion years, and it would be here another four billion. There were molecules from ancient stars, from meteors and comets both. All that was Will, was in it. The sea held him and comforted him.

The time for his end had not yet come, but Cyrus’s had. He couldn’t be allowed to continue.

Will surfaced, stretching and testing his body. He was about two hundred yards off the beach in front of the smelting house. Will started swimming in, aiming for the tall smokestack that brushed the sky.

He felt that familiar pang of loss as he stepped out of the water onto the shore. The sea wanted to keep him. Smooth beach stones mixed with twisted melted rock, making his footing treacherous. He could hear voices, raised in loud discussion, but there was no welcome flickering of red and gold light among the sandstone ruins. He vaulted the wooden fence and crept forward over the dandelions and milkweed.

Cyrus had beaten him to it.

Lou, Mr. Falconer, and Aiden were on the far side of the smelting house. Aiden had the catch bag in his hands, but from the heft of weight in it, hadn’t yet taken the stones out. Mr. Falconer was slumped against the wall, his long, thin hands fluttering in distress like captive butterflies. Lou had set a large electric storm lantern against the far wall, casting their feeble shadows across the stone floor. Cyrus stood close to Will’s hiding place, on the seaward side of the ruins. Will started to work his way, crouching, to the left, staying under the cover of crags of fallen stones.

“You didn’t even get it lit,” said Cyrus, shaking his head. “Some challenge you turned out to be. Lou, you can piss off home. Remind Ella she’s got a year. Then she brings the boy to me. Don’t even think about leaving the island, you dyke bitch. I’ll enjoy watching you, knowing you know what’s coming. And Bill, get yourself over here.”

Mr. Falconer scuttled around the side of the ore pit, lining up behind Cyrus.

“Aiden, lovely, you come over here too. The
second
thing we’re going to do is close that development down.”

Aiden didn’t move.

“Don’t make me tell you twice, lovely.”

“Lou,” said Aiden. “Who is Ryan’s father?”

“That’s not my secret to tell,” said Lou.

“That’s the problem with this island,” said Aiden. “Everyone’s got a secret, and we’re all too afraid to speak them. No one cares anymore! There’s a world off this island, and no-one there cares what you do! Who is Ryan’s father?”

From his hiding place Will could see the moment Lou eye’s flickered towards Mr. Falconer, her eyes shining with hate in the lantern light.

Aiden nodded. “And who was Cameron’s father, Cyrus?”

“Bill, of course.”

Will heard the smile in Cyrus’s voice.

“And Will, and Colin, and . . . was there a Jason? And . . . oh hell, I don’t know how many others. He had to be good for something, after all.”

“I thought Bill was special to you,” said Lou.

Cyrus thought for a moment, head cocked to one side. “Well, he was more compliant than the others, I’ll give him that. He certainly lasted a lot longer.”

“You bastard! I gave you my sons!”

Cyrus turned, not in surprise, but in disgust, sparing Mr. Falconer a brief glance before he turned back to watch Aiden and Lou.

“I gave them to you because they were part of
me
, because I wanted you to have everything that made you happy. I loved you! I thought you loved me. And I was nothing.
Nothing
to you!”

His voice caught. “I’m a monster too.” Mr. Falconer’s voice rang with wonder. “You took everything, left me a hollow shell of a life, pandering to you. You took my sons, and it was never enough. Why couldn’t you love
me
? Just me . . .”

His voice trailed off into a sob.

“You?”

Cyrus’s voice wasn’t even scornful, only blank. He didn’t even look around.

Mr. Falconer’s lunge, and the cry of rage that leapt from his throat, startled Will. His old body was frail, but it took Cyrus by surprise. Off balance, he threw out a tentacle to catch himself, but before he could find a hold, momentum took them both into the ore pit. A soft sound carried to Will’s ears, like a pile of old clothes dropping into a bin. Will scrambled up and raced to the side of the furnace. Mr. Falconer lay on the brick floor, his head at an unnatural angle.

Cyrus looked up at Will, his green eyes filled with surprise that melded seamlessly into rage.

“Aiden, get the doors,” Will shouted.

Aiden ran to the wall, turning the pulley wheel. Lou sprinted to help, and the grinding of steel and rust filled the empty space. Cyrus’s two long tentacles were already creeping over the edge of the pit.

“Fuck. I need a knife or something,” shouted Will.

Lou let go of the wheel, kneeling down and reaching into her pocket for her multi-tool, flipping out the thick serrated blade.

She danced over to the edge of the furnace, hacking at the suckered arms that appeared in front of her, cutting and thrusting at the flailing limbs. Sticky blue blood oozed from Cyrus’s deep gashes, pooling darkly on the stone. The doors were nearly upright now. Cyrus wouldn’t be able to see his targets, but he struck out blindly with his hooked suckers, seemingly hoping for a lucky strike. Lou was quicker, hacking, slashing, then drawing back, as Cyrus’s gore dripped from her hand.

Will ran around the edge of the pit to help Aiden lower the doors. One of Cyrus’s tentacles reached out as he skirted the furnace, twining around his leg and dragging him toward the pit. The hooks dug in to his ankle, and Will cried out at the deep scrape of cartilage on bone.

Lou ran to Will’s side, crouching and sawing at thick limb. Cyrus slashed out with his other long tentacle, and Lou leaned back as it came at her, hooks extended. It caught her thigh with a glancing blow, but not before she severed the first, slicing through the muscular width just below the thick pod. She rolled to the right, as the severed bulbous tip thrashed and wriggled on the brick floor, still clinging to Will.

Will cried out in horror and kicked at it with his other foot, ripping the hooks out of his flesh and finally dislodging it. He pushed it away from the pit, unsure if he dropped it in with Cyrus if he’d be able to rejoin it to his body. Will rose from the floor, the rough grip of the stone letting him gain his footing even though his ankle and foot were slick with blood.

The pit doors were closing more quickly now, only a small gap remaining, giving Cyrus’s arms less maneuverability. He stretched them all out, thin and narrow, sweeping around the edges of the pit for a victim. His cries of inarticulate rage followed his questing tendrils, and then were overwhelmed by the solid sound of the huge metal doors closing in place. The reverberation was sucked away by the night. One arm remained caught, trapped between the edge of the brick and the door, and Lou cut it off efficiently, kicking the suckered remnant away.

Will leaned against the stone wall, catching his breath.

“Nice work,” he said to Lou.

“You know you’re naked, right?”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s getting to be a habit.”

She only shrugged, as Aiden walked over and embraced Will. “He said he killed you.”

Will forced a half-laugh from his throat, wrapping his arms tight around Aiden and pulling him close. “He did.”

They could still hear Cyrus’s shouts coming from the pit, only slightly muffled, and deep resounding booms as Cyrus struck at the doors form the inside.

“Think those will hold?” asked Aiden.

“I hope so.”

At last Aiden and Will released each other. Aiden shucked his shirt and handed it to Will. He sat on the floor, and when Will was covered he pulled him down, where they sat, bodies touching.

“I’d like to point out at no time did you ever tell me Cyrus was a giant tentacled . . . thing,” said Aiden.

“Or me,” said Lou, cleaning off her blade.

“Oh. Sorry.” Will thought for a bit. “I’d like to commend you both, then. You coped rather better than I did with the whole tentacles from the pit thing. And
I
knew what was coming.”

Aiden rested his head Will’s shoulder. “What are we going to do with him?”

Lou walked over, standing above them. “What do you mean? We kill him, right?”

“Yes,” said Will. “I know.”

“But how the hell are we going to do that?” asked Aiden. “We can’t open the pit doors again. And how would we, I don’t know, stab him? I don’t even know if he has a single heart. Don’t octopuses have brains all through their bodies, or something?”

Will and Lou exchanged glances.

“We don’t stab him,” said Lou.

“No,” said Will. “We burn him.”

Aiden’s mouth fell open. “What?”

“He’s in the furnace. There’s coal right? We light it, we clear the flue underneath the coal box, hope the smokestack is still clear, and we let him cook.”

“What the fuck! No! You can’t do that! How long will it take the furnace to heat up?”

Lou shrugged. “I don’t know. Hours. Maybe days.”

“No!” said Aiden, sitting bolt upright. “You cannot slowly cook someone alive. What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

Will nodded slowly. “It’s all right, Aiden. You don’t have to do it. You can leave.”

He eased himself to his feet and looked at Lou.

“Is the coal already in there?”

“Yep, some. We can add more as we go”

“We need kindling to light it.”

“The store will have old newspapers, and I know Mr. Falconer had a kindling pile out the back. I’ll get some. Be right back.”

Aiden was standing now. He walked over to Will and shook him by the shoulders.

“Will, you can’t do this. It’s insane.”

Will shook his head. “No. It’s insane to let him live. Are you going to try to stop me?”

Aiden was silent for long minutes. “No. But I can’t . . . I can’t do this. I can’t watch this.”

“I know. It’s all right. Go.” He didn’t watch Aiden leave.

The south wall of the building was completely gone, and Will busily stripped away the ground cover outside until he found the original air flue. It was partially blocked with a half-grown poplar, and he was glad to see Lou returning with a small hatchet and an armload of the daily city paper.

“I found the firewood. It was safe from the rain under a tarp. I’ll grab some in a bit.”

He took the hatchet and started chopping, as Lou opened the coal chute and dropped scrunched paper down into the fire pit. By the time he finished he was sweating despite the cool night air, and Lou had ferried several armloads of dry wood. Cyrus’s voice had finally fallen silent.