Slimer (17 page)

    On and on she ran. Her chest began to hurt with each breath. Coloured lights danced in the blackness. How long could she keep going before she collapsed from exhaustion? Was there ever going to be an end to this nightmare or was she already dead and in hell? When the yacht sunk had they all died without realising it?

    One of the lights dancing in front of her eyes suddenly became brighter. Then, as it blinded her with its intensity, she skidded to a stop, confused… Behind came the remorseless plip plop footsteps of the creature.

    A voice cried out, urgently, 'Linda, this way! Quickly!'

    It was Paul.

    She ran forward. Someone grabbed her in the darkness and pulled her to one side of the corridor. There was a roaring noise. She turned and saw Paul firing the flame-thrower at the approaching creature. A great gout of flame - so bright it hurt the eye to look at it - hurtled down the corri-dor and enveloped the thing.

    For a moment Linda thought it was going to keep on coming but after a couple more steps the creature halted and started to scream. It was a hideous sound - as if a houseful of tomcats were being burned to death.

    Paul kept the jet of burning liquid on it, advancing slowly towards it as he did so. The thing's torso was completely alight now, the white flesh sizzling and emitting a ghastly smell…

    The awful squealing got more high-pitched and then the thing turned and tried to run. It didn't get very far. It collapsed to the floor and lay there writhing as the flames grew fiercer around it. Finally the screaming stopped and it was still.

    The person holding her said, 'It's dead! We got it!' She realised it was Mark. He let go of her and joined Paul. The flame-thrower sputtered out and darkness briefly closed in but then Mark switched on a powerful flashlight and shone it over the blackened remains of the creature.

    Linda wanted to cry out: 'Don't go near it! It's not dead! It's a trick!' But she couldn't make her voice work. All she could do was lean up against the wall and fight the waves of unconsciousness that were lapping at her mind.

    'Look out… it's still moving!' warned Paul. He and Mark took a quick step backwards. But the horror wasn't getting to its feet, as Linda feared it might be, instead it was shifting and bubbling - collapsing in upon itself. All three of them watched in silent awe as the creature's body dissolved rapidly into a pool of black slime, hissing like a leaky radiator. Then the slime began to move…

    Towards them.

    Paul switched on the flame-thrower again. The liquid fire poured out over the moving mass of slime. It recoiled but it didn't burn. Then, slowly, it formed itself into a long tendril that began to stretch out along the floor, away from them. Soon the bulk of the 'body' was trailing its way down the corridor and a short time later vanished from sight.

    'Well, at least we've given it something to think about,' said Paul, shakily. 'But keep sweeping the floor with the light, Mark, in case it doubles back.' He switched the flame-thrower off and came over to her. 'Are you okay? What happened? Where are the others?'

    'In hell,' she whispered. She started to fall and remembered nothing else.

    

    

    Shelley was floating at the bottom of a black sea of infinite proportions. He was hiding. It was looking for him.

    Shelley knew he couldn't survive for much longer. The others were all gone now. He was alone.

    It was a disturbing new stage in the thing's development. As he had feared it was absorbing their very personalities in the same way that it had taken over their bodies. And in the process it was becoming intelligent itself. It was using their experiences, their thoughts, their memories, to build a single new mind around the original primitive shark mind. The Phoenix DNA/RNA had decided, in some unfathomable manner, to add intelligence to its already formidable range of survival tools…

    And that single gestalt mind was undoubtedly evil. As a scientist Shelley didn't like to use the word 'evil' but he had no choice. It would have been bad enough with only the central shark personality involved - while not inherently evil its voracious primal drives certainly made it inimical to human beings whatever its physical manifestation - but the inclusion of that disgusting thug Alex had brought a strong, almost overwhelming elemertt of genuine evil to the psychic stew.

    Shelley shuddered mentally at the memory of the things Alex had done when he'd been in control of the group body. That poor girl… Shelley had briefly come in contact with Alex's mind and found it indescribably loathsome. It was full of seething hatred and a desire to cause pain for pleasure. Perhaps he had led a sheltered life but it had come as a shock to him that another human being could think like that.

    The horrible thing was that if the creature caught him he too would become part of that cauldron of malign emotions. Alex would become a part of him…

    

    

    When Linda regained consciousness she found herself in one of the kitchens. She was lying on a mattress that had been placed on a table. There were a number of emergency gas lamps around but the place was still too dark for her liking. And it was cold. Freezing…

    Paul helped her to sit up. She saw that he had put a rough splint on her arm but it hurt like crazy. And so did her back where Alex had clawed her.

    'How you feeling?' he asked.

    'Lousy. My arm…'

    He handed her a couple of pills and a cup of fruit juice. 'Painkillers. Take them. I set your arm as best I could but you'll probably have to have it reset when we get ashore.'

    She swallowed the pills and the juice gratefully. She noted the way he'd said when we get ashore as if there were no doubt that they would. Good old Paul, still putting up a confident front. Mark, on the other hand, looked far from confident. He was sitting nearby with the flame-thrower beside him and trying to look in all directions. She realised they were in a very vulnerable and exposed position.

    'The creature…?' she asked.

    'Haven't seen it since the fun and games in the corridor,' said Paul. 'But as soon as you feel you can walk we'll get moving. We've decided to go up to the roof. There's still a storm going on outside but I think I'll feel safer out in the open air. Also the generators are up there. We might be able to get one of them started again if we can find any fuel. Or we might be able to rig up some kind of distress signal…'

    'I'm ready to move now,' she said firmly. But when, with his help, she got down from the table she was overcome with dizziness. 'On second thoughts perhaps not just yet…' she said groggily.

    Paul helped her to a chair. 'Wait a couple of minutes then we'll try again,' he advised. 'In the meantime you can tell us what happened to the others.'

    'It got them…' she began but was interrupted by a cry from Mark.

    'No! I won't believe it! It hasn't got Chris!' He jumped to his feet and came over, leaving the flame-thrower behind. 'I know she's all right. She's lost somewhere, that's all. We've got to keep looking for her…'

    Paul grabbed him by his shirt front. 'Listen, you fool, you go and pick up that damn flame-thrower,' he said harshly. 'You're supposed to be on watch. It's stupidity like this that's killing us one by one. When are you idiots going to realise what we're up against.' He gave him a contemptuous shove backwards.

    Mark, cowed, went and picked up the weapon. But as he did so he muttered, 'I don't care what you say - Chris is still alive. That thing hasn't got her.'

    Linda said wearily, 'I think it has. I'm sorry, Mark, but that's what Alex told me…'

    'Alex?' queried Paul.

    She described what had happened after he and Mark had left her alone with Rochelle. 'It got her first, then Alex and then… Chris. It was with us in the cabin all the time - disguised as Ro - and we didn't realise it,' she concluded grimly.

    'You mean Alex was with us. By the sound of it he was running the show.' He shook his head with disgust. 'I guess it's to be expected, knowing him. He probably feels right at home sharing a body with a man-eating shark. They must get on like long-lost relatives.'

    'No,' said Linda. 'He was in control, but only temporarily.' She told him the way Alex had behaved before changing into the creature. 'It was like he was under attack. He sounded terrified. Whatever's in control of that thing now isn't Alex.'

    'Good,' said Paul, 'I think I'd prefer to face a walking-talking shark than an invulnerable Alex.'

    Linda shivered. 'I don't want to face either of them again. But did you notice, Paul, that the creature looked different? It wasn't the same as when it attacked us in the rec room.'

    'Yeah. It's like it's going through some kind of metamorphosis. Apart from the temporary shape changes it's as if the original shark is still evolving…'

    'Evolving into what?'

    He grimaced, 't hate to imagine. How do you feel now? Think you can walk? I'd like to get started.'

    She got up. She still felt dizzy but she was determined not to delay them any longer. She didn't feel safe in the kitchen. She kept seeing things out of the corner of her eye - movements in the shadows. Was it her imagination, or…? 'I thought we could go outside on this level and then climb up the gangway to the roof,' said Paul. 'I don't fancy going up through all five levels inside.'

    Neither did she. 'But will we be able to get out? With the power off won't the automatic doors just stay closed?'

    'If they're shut we'll have to shoot our way out. They're only glass.' He handed her a torch and picked up his M16. Then he said to Mark. 'Bring the flame-thrower and be ready to use it at a moment's notice…'

    'No,' said Mark. 'I'm not coming. I'm going to keep searching for Chris.'

    'Mark, get it through your head, she's gone,' said Paul brutally. 'Thanks to you. You left her alone to go have your damn fix and that thing got her. Well, it's too late to help her now.'

    'No, don't say that!' cried Mark. 'It's not true. She's alive.'

    'The way I feel about you right now I'd be happy to leave you down here and let you throw your life away,' said Paul, 'But Linda and I need your help so you're coming with us. Now mow.'

    Mark shook his head. 'No. I didn't kill her. I love Chris. I've got to find her. I know she's here somewhere…'

    'I'm here, Mark.'

    Chris stepped through the doorway. She looked dishevel-led and tired but otherwise normal. Mark gave a cry of relief. 'Chris, thank God. I knew you were okay…' He dropped the flame-thrower and was about to rush forward but Paul was too fast for him. He stepped in front of him and gave him a hard blow in the solar plexus with the butt of the M16. Then, as Mark doubled over, he swung the barrel towards Chris.

    'Don't come any closer!' he warned.

    Chris halted. 'Hey Paul,' she said with a tired smile, 'take it easy. It's me…'

    'Sure. And I'm Harrison Ford. We know the real Chris got taken by that thing. Right Linda?'

    'That's what Alex said,' Linda agreed, staring at Chris with horrified fascination. It was almost impossible to believe that this wasn't Chris. She - it - looked so real.

    'Alex was lying. You know what he's like. I got away from him but of course he'd never admit that.'

    'No,' said Linda slowly. 'I think he was telling the truth. He gave details… said you were already dead by the time it got you… that only bits of your personality survived…'

    'This is ridiculoussaid Chris. 'How can I convince you of the truth?' She looked imploringly at Mark who was still doubled-over, trying to recover his breath. 'Mark, make them understand. This is me.'

    Paul raised the gun. 'I'm sorry but we can't take the chance…' But before he could pull the trigger Mark leapt up with a wild cry and flung himself on Paul, knocking him over. The M16 clattered to the floor. Linda saw a gleam of triumph in Chris's eyes as she started forward again.

    Hoping with all her being that she was doing the right thing Linda ran to the gun and scooped it up with her right hand. Then, resting it awkwardly on her stiff left arm, she fired blindly at Chris. Chris was less than four feet away and the stream of 5-63 bullets almost cut her in half. Her body was flung violently backwards as if pulled on invisible wires.

    'No!'

    The scream came from Mark. Leaving Paul he ran to Chris's body. 'You've killed her!'

    But Paul was already up and after him. He managed to grab Mark before he could fling himself on Chris and pulled him away.

    'That's not Chris, you idiot!' he yelled as he struggled with Mark. 'Look at her!'

    From her open mouth a black, shiny tendril had emerged, rising up like the head of an inquisitive snake. Linda felt a wave of repugnance go through her as she watched.

    Mark stopped struggling. He gave a low moan of despair as Chris's body began to collapse in upon itself.

    'Quick!' said Paul urgently. 'Move yourselves! Before it can attack!' Hustling Mark ahead of him, Paul ran to the discarded flame-thrower and picked it up, then ordered Mark to grab a lamp and a flashlight. 'Out the other door, hurry!' he cried. 'Linda!'

    For several seconds Linda watched, almost hypnotised, as the tendrils of black slime flowed out from the rapidly disintegrating shell of Chris's body. Then, as one of them began to pick up speed in her direction, she came to her senses and ran.

    Again she found herself running down a dark corridor but at least this time she was not alone…

    When they'd put about fifty yards between themselves and the kitchen Paul called a halt. Panting he lit the burner on the flame-thrower then shot a brief jet of fire down the corridor behind them. The harsh red glare revealed no sign of the creature.