Age of Monsters John Schneider (digital book reader TXT) 📖

they've got a shower and a bed on board, I'm not coming back.”

Naomi posed on the bow, squinting out over the water.

The ship was too distant to tell if it had power – or any activity on board.

Jonah was basically a river-guy and as he steered them out into the open ocean, he was immediately aware of the difference in scale.  It wasn't like the chop of the rapids – not even big rapids – he could feel the power of the water, as the sturdy craft rose and dipped like flotsom.

As they passed the tower, he stayed clear of the atoll and the jagged rocks that surrounded it, before the coast broke off into the deep water.  The tower itself, actually looked out of place, simply by virtue that it was still standing – the one spot the tornado had missed.

Past the atoll, Jonah picked up speed.  As they drew closer, Naomi stood up, shielding her eyes against the sun.

“I still can't see anything,” she said.  “It doesn't look like there's anything moving.”

Jonah was about to tell her to sit – it wasn't safe – when the boat suddenly lurched.

Naomi stumbled, grabbing the railing, and glared back accusingly at Jonah.

Then the boat rose up in the water, as a large swell lifted them up – the outboard crested for one stomach-floating moment before dropping them back down again.

Rather like something large passing just beneath them.

“Did you feel that?” Ariel said.

Jonah definitely had.

“No,” he said.

Glancing nervously at the surrounding water, he leaned on the throttle a little more.

The destroyer lay just ahead.  They could see lights.  It seemed to have power.

But as they grew close, they realized Naomi had been right – there was nothing moving.

Jonah frowned.  It seemed extremely unlikely under any circumstances that their approach on a naval vessel would be so completely unguarded.  Yet, there was no activity at all.

Naomi's face was grim.  “Pull up starboard,” she said.

Jonah obliged, sidling them up alongside the main deck.  Naomi stood again, hollering through her hands.

“HELLO!  Anyone there?”

Her voice echoed.

The ship was a dead hulk in the water.

Naomi turned to the others.  “We've got to get on board.”

“Wait a minute,” Terry said.  “Are we sure that's a good idea?  I mean, it's like a ghost-ship or something.”

Naomi turned a dire eye in his direction, and Terry held up his hands, placatingly.

They circled until they found a boarding dock with a ladder that led up to the rear decks.  Jonah pulled them up and tied them off.

The waves pushed their outboard roughly up against the steel hull – there was the sound of scraping metal.

Without waiting for the others, Naomi grabbed the ladder and begin to climb.

Ariel let out an exasperated breath.  “Girl,” she said, but nevertheless, started up after her.

Terry glanced doubtfully at Jonah, but nevertheless, dutifully tossed his shotgun over his shoulder, and followed.

Jonah sighed, shouldering his own rifle, making sure the outboard was secure, before grabbing hold of the ladder himself.

Behind him, Otto squawked in Terry's voice: “Are we sure that's a good idea?”

Jonah paused a second, frowning at the little lizard, before he turned and began to climb.

Chapter 32

The ship appeared deserted.

The rear deck was empty – and dead silent.

“HELLO!” Naomi shouted again, nearly startling Jonah into dropping his rifle.  Her voice bounced across the barren decks, but there was still no answer.

Jonah glanced at her sideways.

But the nervous light in her eye had receded as caution reasserted itself.  She nodded, pulling out her pistol.

The upper decks were all empty.

It was not, however, as it turned out, a 'ghost-ship'.

They found the crew below decks.

The smell hit them first.   Ariel turned and was noisily sick.

Not a ghost-ship.  A DEATH ship.

Pieces of the crew lay in the halls – dismembered, cannibalized.

And crouched all over them, gnawing on bones, gorged, with bloody lips, were dozens of those little scavengers – Ottos – everywhere – feeding.

“Now that,” Terry said, “is just a little too fucked-up.”

He shouldered his shotgun and fired a blast at the nearest of them, splattering the little lizard across the wall – whereupon Terry proceeded to pump off five shots in a row, blasting as many of the little scavengers as he could before they scattered – buckshots ricocheted like shrapnel off the walls.

“Jesus!” Ariel said, swatting him.

Terry fired one last blast, shuddering in disgust.  “I HATE those little bastards.”

He turned to Ariel sternly.  “That's it.  When we get back to the boat, I am dropping that scaly little rat in the cage overboard.”

They could hear the little lizards, skittering down the hall.

“We need to find the control tower,” Naomi said.  “If the ship's communications are operational, we can get in contact with somebody.”

“Hold on,” Terry said.  “There might be more of those things.  Where's the control tower?”

Naomi pointed down the hallway in the direction the Ottos had disappeared – smeared with charnel and bones, slippery in blood.

“Of course it is,” Terry said.

Jonah had never been on a military ship before – the necessity of efficiency of any sea-going vessel was taken to a claustrophobic extreme – they weren't following a hallway, so much as a tunnel.

The overhead bulbs were motion-activated, clicking on as they entered each separate chamber – and the minimal lighting also allowed for a lot of shadows – nooks and crannies for skittering clawed feet.  Jonah could hear minute chirps and squawks echoing through the corridor.

Along the metal floor were scattered bones, some with clinging meat, and the odd patch of clothing or hair.

They made their way past the crew's lodgings, following the stair-step ladders up to the next level into the infirmary, where the creepy-dark grime gave way to an