Mega 4: Behemoth Island (23 page)

“Yes, our elf will be fine,” Ballantine said. Then he studied Popeye some more. “As for our boatswain, I think you may have done some long-term damage. Was it one of your patented mind fucks, Chance? Or did my wife get her claws in him too? Did she use that machine of hers?”

“Why don’t you ask me?” Dana said as she stepped onto a gangplank that bridged the slight gap between ships. She easily balanced her way over and dropped onto the Beowulf III’s deck, her eyes steely and locked onto Ballantine. “It is good to see you, Ballantine.”

“Even your wife calls you by your last name?” Kinsey asked. “Classic.”

“I know, right?” Ballantine laughed. “I’m a man of great mystery and intrigue.” He cleared his throat and bowed slightly to Dana. “Hello, my love. You are supposed to be dead. That was part of the bargain. You being here now means you broke our bargain.”

“Oh, here it comes!” Dana exclaimed. “Deals and bargains and contracts! Every damn time with you, Ballantine! Every damn time! You know what? Life changes! People change! And when you decide to wipe out the company and take things over for yourself, without even giving me the courtesy of a heads up, then bargains change!”

“You were dead,” Ballantine stated. “I can’t give a dead person a heads up.”

“Oh, bullshit!” Dana shouted. It was loud enough to make even Jowarski flinch. “You knew I wasn’t dead! You knew exactly where I was at all times!”

“With him,” Ballantine said, turning his attention to Jowarski. “We’ll come back to that, Chance. Don’t you worry.”

“Not worried at all,” Jowarski replied. “No need to be. Endgame is over, Ballantine. You failed. In order for your plan to work, you needed to kill us all. Leaving even one splinter of one division was failure. Guess what? You failed!”

“Yep,” Ballantine nodded. “I failed.”

Jowarski coughed and looked puzzled. “What was that? Did you agree with me?”

“I did,” Ballantine said. “I let my emotions overrule common sense. I should have started with you and your division. But I decided to wait and leave you for last. My mistake.”

“Yes…your mistake,” Jowarski said.

“What now?” Ballantine asked. “You put a bullet in my head?”

“Not yet,” Dana said. “The assets of yours we know about are probably only a tenth of what you really have. I want names and locations before I put you out of my misery.”

“Okay,” Ballantine said.

Dana sighed.

“Dammit, what do you have up your sleeve?” she asked. “I know you, Ballantine. You have something planned. What is it?”

“I actually have nothing planned,” Ballantine said. “All plans are done. I’m winging it from here on out. It’s the new Ballantine. Footloose and fancy free.”

“More bullshit,” Dana grumbled. “You never stop.”

“If a shark stops, he drowns,” Ballantine said. “And you know how much I love sharks.”

“That makes no sense,” Jowarski said.

“Put him over there against that rail,” Dana ordered. “Let him sit in the sun for an hour and then I’ll start my little chat.” She pointed at Popeye. “You! Time to give us the tour of this ship.”

“Are you a tour guide now, Popeye?” Ballantine asked.

“Yeah,” Popeye said. “I guess I am.”

“Be sure and show them the mess,” Ballantine said. “And perhaps the Toyshop? The elves have done some great things to it. Can you do that, Popeye?”

“The Toyshop is your armory, right?” Jowarski asked. “Nice try, Ballantine. I’ll send some of my men down there on their own. No need for Mr. DeBruhl to waste his time.”

Ballantine shrugged.

“What about these two?” Jowarski asked, yanking Kinsey’s arm almost out of the socket.

“Leave them up here,” Dana said. “But nowhere near Ballantine. Keep them on opposite sides of the ship.”

“You heard her,” Jowarski said to the men that stood guard. “And make sure they don’t talk to each other.”

“Mr. DeBruhl?” Dana said. “After you.”

Popeye sighed and limped over to the main hatchway. He glanced over his shoulder at Kinsey and Ingrid then Ballantine. Ballantine responded with a huge smile. Popeye shook his head then was quickly lost from sight.

As soon as Dana and Jowarski were gone, Kinsey looked over at Ballantine. His eyes were averted, looking off into space. But Kinsey knew the man well enough to realize he was telling her something. She rolled her head on her neck and casually looked at the other ship, but not in the direction Ballantine was looking. She made a point of specifically looking in the opposite direction.

For a brief second, she thought the beatings and hot sun were making her hallucinate. But considering all the crazy shit she’d seen since becoming a part of Team Grendel, a huge gorilla with tattered clothes plastered to its hairy body wasn’t exactly out of the realm of possibility. In the time it took her to comprehend what she saw, the thing was lost from sight, gone into the belly of the other ship.

Kinsey looked back at Ballantine and that time he was staring right at her. His huge grin was even huger.

But it faltered at the sound of several loud roars that came from the island. All eyes, even the guards’, looked across the bay with its perpetually schooling fish things, and watched as far off trees shuddered and shook. Huge red birds circled above the jungle, darting down now and again, screeching their prehistoric screeches.

“You know what?” Ballantine said to the guards. “If you guys are looking for new employment, keep me in mind.” He nodded towards the island. “I really do know how to keep the workplace from being boring.”

***

“Son of a fuck!” Thorne shouted as he pulled the trigger on the plasma rifle again and again, turning one of the twelve-foot dinosaurs that chased them into a pulpy splat against the wall of ferns to Team Grendel’s left. “I really hate dinosaurs!”

On his other side stood Darby, her plasma rifle barking as well. A second dino then a third became bloody gunk. She looked down at her energy readings and snarled.

“Almost out again,” Darby said.

Thorne fired off three bolts before checking his. “Yeah, same here.”

Behind them, Darren and Shane carried a makeshift stretcher that held Lucy. Her eyes were bright and she held her own hands to her neck, but her skin was almost pure white and her lips had a bluish tinge to them.

“You okay, Luce?” Shane asked, holding the rear of the stretcher. “You hang on, okay?”

Lucy gave him a weak smile.

Behind the stretcher were Mike and Max. Mike had his plasma rifle up, but Max held a sawed-off Mossberg pistol grip shotgun, having given his plasma rifle to Thorne. He pumped the shotgun and fired, sending a slug into the face of a dinosaur that looked like its teeth could shred an aluminum can as easily as slicing a tomato.

“What are you grinning at?” Mike asked, firing at another dinosaur, that one about twice the size of the one that Max just relieved of most of its chest. “You think this is fun, don’t you?”

“I’d need to change professions if I didn’t,” Max said. “And I was grinning because I was remembering that old Ginsu commercial. It slices!” He fired at another dinosaur, shredding half the thing’s face. “It dices!” He fired again, taking off a stubby arm from a raptor-looking thing that had just leapt at him. “It even cuts cans!”

He flipped the Mossberg around and whacked a second leaping dino like it was a baseball heading over home plate. Max reached into his pockets and started pulling out shells then shoving them into the shotgun’s breach.

Mike fried a dozen creeper vines that lashed out at his face. Half the jungle to his left seemed to shrink back as if it had been hit. Mike blasted that greenery and suddenly hundreds of vines that had been hanging from branches and clung to trunks slunk away, desperate to get clear of danger.

“Remind me to tell Ballantine that I am no longer cool with jungle work,” Mike said. “A nice, barren desert would be ideal for our next op. No more greenery.”

“There’s scary shit in deserts, man,” Max said. He blasted two snake looking things, ripping their bellies open. Whatever they had for their dinners spilled out onto the jungle floor. “But I totally hear you.”

The Team came to a clearing and Darby halted them briefly. Just for a split second so she could get her bearings. It wasn’t hard since they were still on an incline and they could see the bay in the distance.

“Is that a second ship?” Darby asked.

“Yeah,” Thorne said. “We’ll deal with that later.”

A massive roar shook the jungle and half the dinosaurs that were coming in to attack Team Grendel decided they no longer wanted to be anywhere near the area. They rushed off as fast as their clawed feet would take them.

“Oh, piss,” Max said. “I think our old buddy is coming to see us off.”

A red bird dino swooped down at them and Thorne took it out with a well-placed blast. His plasma rifle beeped and he looked at Darby as they got moving again.

“Six more shots, maybe,” Darby said to Thorne. “Make the best of them.”

Thorne nodded. He had a pistol on his hip and a knife strapped to his leg, all thanks to the weapons cache they had found in the cave, but as a second roar shook the trees that lined the small clearing, he knew they would be as effective as toothpicks and spitballs against the thing coming for them.

“We do what we can,” Thorne said. “We get Lucy and the others to the Zodiac and make sure they can get back to the ship. Understood?”

“Understood,” Darby said. She swung to the left and fired into the trees. An explosion of blood and bone filled the shadows and spilled out over the ferns that swayed in the island breeze.

Team Grendel kept moving, kept fighting, kept on surviving as they dove into the jungle at the far end of the clearing.

Chapter Eleven- Company

“What exactly is it you’re looking for?” Popeye asked as he was shoved forward by Jowarski. “It’s just a ship.”

“The Beowulf is hardly just a ship,” Dana said.

“Beowulf III,” Popeye said.

“Beowulf IV, to be more accurate,” Dana said. “But I can see how Ballantine would prefer to forget the very first ship that bore the name. It was not a good time in our marriage. We don’t talk about that.”

Popeye shook his head. “You people are messed up.”

“Just get us to Ballantine’s personal quarters,” Jowarski said. “He’ll have his files stashed there.” He glanced at Dana. “You sure you can get his safe open? We have techs on our ship that can crack it in only a few minutes.”

“No, I can do it,” Dana said. “He hasn’t changed the combination. He’d never do that.”

“Doesn’t seem like a secure way to go about keeping anything safe,” Jowarski said. “Amateur, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t,” Dana said.

“I ain’t never been in Ballantine’s personal quarters,” Popeye said. “I didn’t think the man needed any since I ain’t never seen him sleep.”

“Hard to see a man sleep if you’ve never been to where he sleeps,” Jowarski said. “That’s called logic, Mr. DeBruhl.”

“You can cram that logic up your ass,” Popeye said.

The party kept moving down the passageway. Popeye noted the destruction to the walls and ceiling and shook his head. The damage had the guards that flanked Popeye, Jowarski, and Dana, on edge and Popeye looked over to see more than a couple trigger fingers looking mighty itchy.

“Careful,” Popeye said. “You start firing in here and we’re likely to get killed by a ricochet.”

“My men know their jobs, Mr. DeBruhl,” Jowarski said. “You just need to know yours. Get us to Ballantine’s quarters.”

“It’s this way,” Popeye said and took them through a mangled hatchway and into another damaged passageway. “What in hell did they do to my ship?”

They had gotten to the middle of the passageway when the wall on their left began to shimmer then disappear completely.

“Hello,” Ronald said just before he reached out of the Toyshop and ripped one of the guard’s head off. “Goodbye.”

A second guard spun about to fire at the gigantopithecus, but he stopped in mid turn and let go of his rifle, his hands going to the open wound across his throat. Blood poured from between his fingers and he collapsed to his knees.

“What the fuck?” Jowarski yelled as he pulled a pistol from his hip and fired at Ronald.

Ronald cried out as blood bloomed from his right shoulder. Then the cry turned into a wall rumbling growl of rage.

“Oh, shit,” Jowarski said. He turned and ran, leaving the guards to stand there, their mouths wide open as the impossible creature closed on them.

“That’s new,” Popeye said to Dana.

Two more guards went down with slashed throats before they could get a shot off. The second to last guard was ripped limb from limb by Ronald before the very last guard dropped his rifle and held his hands above his head.

“I don’t want to die!” the man shouted, dropping to his knees. “Please don’t kill me, Bigfoot!”

“I do not like being called Bigfoot!” Ronald roared as he grabbed them man by the helmet and lifted him up off his knees. One shake, one snap, and it was all over. The body fell to the floor as Ronald opened his hand. “It is rude to call someone of my intelligence and learning the name of a mythical creature.”

“I wouldn’t say mythical,” Gunnar stated as he materialized next to Dana, a combat knife in his hand and the blade pressed to the woman’s throat. “I mean, come on, Ronald, you do have family in the Pacific Northwest that get spotted sometimes.”

“That does not mean I have to accept the Bigfoot moniker,” Ronald said. “I do have dignity.”

“Gunnar? That you?” Popeye asked, looking at the suited figure standing next to Dana.

Gunnar pulled back the mesh that obscured his head and face and grinned at Popeye. “Popeye? What the fuck, man? You’re dead!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Popeye said. “But I ain’t.”

“I can see that,” Gunnar said.

Popeye turned and stared at Ronald.

“Oh, sorry,” Gunnar said, the blade still pressed to Dana’s throat. “Popeye DeBruhl, this is Ronald. Ronald, Popeye. Ronald joined us when we reached the other island, but you were dead by then.”

“Nice to meet ya,” Popeye said. He sort of held his hand out. “Do we shake?”

“Of course,” Ronald said, enveloping the small man’s hand in his massive hairy one. “Decorum doesn’t go away just because there are bodies on the ground.”

Ronald grinned big and Popeye struggled not to shy away from the huge mouth full of equally huge teeth.

“Since we’re doing introductions,” Popeye said, nodding to Dana. “This is Dana Ballantine. Our Ballantine’s wife.”

“Hello, Ronald,” Dana said.

“Dana, a pleasure to see you again,” Ronald said. “You may remove the knife from her throat, Gunnar. Dr. Ballantine will no longer be a threat.”

“Did you say this is Ballantine’s wife?” Gunnar asked.

“Yes, and we are old friends,” Ronald said. “It was she that introduced me to Ballantine and made it possible for me to take my position with Boris.” Ronald smacked his forehead. “Oh, dear me.” He turned back to the Toyshop. “It is safe to come out now.”

Moshi, Carlos, Boris, and Dr. Morganton all peeked around the various shelves of equipment inside the Toyshop.

“Moshi!” Dana said and held out her arms.

Moshi frowned and shook her head back and forth then disappeared deeper into the Toyshop.

“Dana,” Carlos nodded.

“Carlos,” Dana replied and glared.

“Whatever,” Carlos sighed.

***

All heads turned from the island and towards the other ship as the first screams echoed across the gap.

“Uh oh,” Ballantine said to the guards. “Sounds like you may have a spot of trouble over there. You guys go help your friends. I’ll keep an eye on the ladies here. What? No? Okay, but don’t say I didn’t try to help.”

A claxon blared on the other ship and the screams increased despite the added noise. Men began to scramble across the upper deck and someone was shouting from the bridge. The sound of metal being ripped apart was almost as loud as the claxon.

“Someone over there is not a happy camper,” Ballantine said.

The guards turned to the other ship and raised their rifles. A couple of them took tentative steps towards the gangplank then stopped as they watched crumpled body after crumpled body being tossed out of one of the hatchways.

Then more metal ripped and shrapnel was sent flying everywhere as the Harris-Logan thing exploded out from the lower decks and back into the open air.

“This will be my ship!” the monster bellowed.

“I think he just called dibs, guys,” Ballantine said to the guards. “Are you going to let him get away with that?”

“I will take this ship and I will leave this Hell!” the Harris-Logan thing roared.

The guards on the B3 looked at each other then took aim and started firing.

The Harris-Logan thing turned towards them and waved its massive hands like it was batting away annoying gnats. Small dots of red appeared on its massively muscled chest, but it did not seem to affect the beast one bit.

“MY SHIP!” the Harris-Logan thing bellowed as it picked up a hatch door that had been torn free and threw it across the gap to the B3.

Only a couple of guards were able to get out of the way in time as the hatch door flew at them. The rest were ripped in half. Ballantine barely had time to duck and let the bloody door fly over his head.

“Good toss, Timothy!” Ballantine yelled as he stood back up. “Almost got them all!”

The remaining guards got back to their feet and opened fire again. The Harris-Logan thing roared at them then was lost from sight as it dove below decks once more.

“I think he’s going back for seconds,” Ballantine said.

The two guards left turned on Ballantine, rifles up and smoking.

“What was that thing?” one of the guards asked. “That something you made? Jowarski’s going to—”

The guard didn’t get to finish as two legs suddenly wrapped about his neck, yanking him over backwards. The snapping of vertebrae wasn’t quite loud enough to be heard over the chaos coming from the other ship, but everyone on deck got the gist of what had happened as the guard’s head turned at a very unnatural angle.

The second guard spun about and took aim at the owner of the two legs, but he didn’t get a shot off as Ingrid rammed him from the side. He stumbled and fell towards Ballantine. All the man had to do was step aside and stick out a foot. The guard tripped and flipped end over end across the railing and was lost from sight. Ballantine nodded when he heard the splash. He smiled when he heard the screams as what was in the water found a fresh meal.

“We do make a fine team,” Ballantine said.

Kinsey unlocked her legs from the dead guard’s neck and stood up. She turned around and showed her zip ties to Ballantine.

“Your hands are in front,” she said. “You think you can get the knife from his belt and cut me loose?”

“My pleasure, Ms. Thorne,” Ballantine said.

He started to crouch then dove instead, taking Kinsey and Ingrid out at the legs, sending them falling to the deck. Shots rang out as Jowarski burst from the main hatchway, a pistol in his hand firing wildly.

“What the fuck is going on?” Jowarski screamed as he came to a stop, his eyes locked on the destruction happening on his ship. He spun about and aimed his pistol at Ballantine. “What have you done? How? How can you do these things when you are tied up? What kind of fucking freak are you?”

“I’m the freak that knows how to plan for every contingency,” Ballantine replied calmly, his body shielding Kinsey’s and Ingrid’s as they lay on the deck. “But more importantly, I’m the freak that embraces chaos and has all the faith in the world that it will turn out my way.”

“Then that makes you a dead freak,” Jowarski said, moving towards Ballantine. “Because this chaos is not going to turn out—”

His chest exploded open and then half his head was gone as extremely loud shots rang out. More of Jowarski’s body was lost to the barrage of bullets that crashed into him until there wasn’t enough of him left to stay standing.

Ballantine, Kinsey, and Ingrid looked up to see Lake standing at the railing outside the bridge, a smoking Desert Eagle in each hand.

“I’m the captain of this fucking ship!” Lake yelled, his words slurred. “If anyone gets to kill Ballantine it’s me!”

He belched loudly then turned and vomited over the railing.

“That is the chaos I’m talking about,” Ballantine grinned. “Damn that man is good with those hand cannons. He doesn’t even need a double grip.”

“Is he drunk?” Ingrid asked as Lake continued puking.

“They didn’t think to check the bridge?” Kinsey asked.

“I know, right?” Ballantine said, getting to his feet. “There is just no accounting for professionalism these days.”

Lake puked some more then waved his pistols in the air. Right before his eyes rolled up in his head and he passed out.

***

Team Grendel broke from the tree line then stopped as they saw what was before them. The way to the Zodiac was blocked by a hundred croanderthals, all brandishing various weapons and blowguns. The blowgunned few put their weapons to their lips and prepared to fire.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Thorne said as he locked eyes with the woman he recognized as the Liu croanderthal. Despite their new discoveries below the Omega facility, Thorne knew she wasn’t a clone. He saw the differences in her instantly, his SEAL-trained eyes sizing her up on the spot. “This bitch again?”

Darby grinned at his comment and put her plasma rifle to her shoulder. “We get Lucy and the others to the Zodiac.”

“That’s the plan,” Thorne said.

“What was that?” Darren asked. “No fucking way! No suicide pacts! This is not self-sacrifice day!”

“Every day is self-sacrifice day when you work for Ballantine,” Darby said.

“Take them down!” the Liu croanderthal shouted.

Before a single poisoned dart was blown, three croanderthal heads burst open. A half second later, three gunshots echoed across the bay. The Liu croanderthal spun around and roared at the far-off ship.

More shots rang out as croanderthal after croanderthal was dropped. A bullet whizzed past Thorne’s cheek and he could have sworn he heard his daughter’s far-off voice yell, “Sorry, Daddy!”

The Liu croanderthal began shoving her people about, yelling at them to ignore the guns and go kill Thorne and his Team. She shook with rage and opened her mouth to roar again, but she was beaten to the punch by a considerably more forceful roar that tore through the trees behind Thorne and company.

“Big and ugly is back!” Max yelled. “Go!”