Witch hunt, p.14
Witch Hunt, page 14
part #4 of JTF 13 Series
It emerged with a great eruption of water on our port side, with its tentacles all together in one bunch.
“Shoot it, men, get me an opening!” Greene shouted. We blasted away as one, and the buck of the massed fire nearly tipped the boat. The inky sea beast threw its tentacles wide. In that moment, Greene tossed one of the grenades against a mass of limbs. The deafening explosion knocked us all back against the edge of the boat. Repulsive pieces of black flesh splattered over us. A great wave smacked against the boat, and Samuel Cash pitched over backward into the water.
The shattered remains of the beast sank back beneath the waves.
I caught sight of Cash’s hand below the water and snatched it before he sank away. I almost went in myself, but Clark and one other grabbed hold of me. Trusting them, I heaved Cash up until he could reach the edge, and then I helped him all the way into the boat.
“Oh Gods, thank you, Sergeant, I thought it had me,” Cash said, as he spewed seawater back into the river. Something bumped against the boat. I assumed the creature was back, but then I saw a shark’s fin move quickly away from us.
“It’ll be back soon, reload and let’s get moving!” Greene shouted. We grabbed our oars and rowed for all we were worth out toward the ships.
We heaved the oars in unison to Greene’s call for several long, grueling minutes. We cleared the sandbar into the open ocean, where the Orion waited not much farther out.
My eyes were drawn to a brilliant glow on the beach to our south. To my amazement, I spotted the white witch, as beautiful as ever, standing serenely a mere hundred feet away. Instead of the uncontrollable love and lust I’d felt at Roanoke, I experienced a blend of fear, disgust, and anger.
The moonlight and her glow were sufficient for me to see that one of the hairy beasts stood beside her. By the accoutrements, I could tell it wore one of our uniforms. A soldier with a rifle stood on her other side. He, too, wore a US Marine uniform, though there was not enough light to identify him.
“Guns!” Greene shouted, with no explanation.
The creature emerged in a great splash on our starboard side with a great flurry of tentacles. Two slapped hard against me, knocking the shotgun from my hands and throwing me backward. Another grabbed my left leg as I tumbled. The other marines on the boat blasted their rifles and shotguns into it. I held onto the boat for dear life with one hand while I drew my knife with the other. With a wild scream I stabbed as hard as I could into the cold, rubbery flesh that held me.
Out of the corner of my eye in the bright moonlight, I saw another grenade fly past me and toward the monster.
“Down!” Greene yelled. I had no ability to do so, but I shoved harder with the knife and curled myself into a ball.
An explosion thundered and the boat pitched high on a sudden wave. Were it not for the tentacle which held me, we would have capsized.
The tentacle released me, and we watched the last few flailing limbs of the creature sink below the water.
“Row, men, row!” I heard a voice call from somewhere behind us. It was Captain Beattie, urging us on. We manned the oars once again, beating the sea into foam with desperation and fury.
“Come on, come on, we’re almost there!” Greene shouted.
An oar was torn from my hands. Though the others continued to row, the boat stopped, as surely as it would if we had gotten stuck on sand or a reef. We readied guns once more. Sheer, silent terror lingered.
Tentacles snaked up the end of the boat and another creature pushed itself up onto the boat with us. It bore no scars or injuries, and I reasoned it was a new creature. If there was more than one, there was no telling how many there were.
“There’s two, one at each end!” Beattie called out. Most of us fired at the aft creature and then swung and stabbed at it.
I spared a glance back at the other end and spotted Greene, readying to use another grenade directly onto the creature at the bow. The blast would have killed him instantly. Fortunately for him, but unfortunately for us, it was knocked from his hand and fell into the water.
Several loud shrieks pierced the air. Something exploded against the side of the aft beast. As I realized it had been hit with a rocket, something much greater slammed into its side and tore it away from the boat. My mind caught up to the deafening sound of a cannon.
With our end clear, the boat pitched down towards the bow. That creature, still clinging to the front, leveraged it down to force the bow under the water. Its purpose was immediately clear, it meant to dump the lot of us into its waiting maw.
Private George Thompson, one of those who’d watched the boat with Clarke, dropped, bounced, and landed in the creature’s arms.
Greene tossed his last grenade straight into its mouth. It swallowed the object down.
Nothing happened.
Thompson screamed as the beast pushed him into the rows of teeth. They pulsed up against him, as I’d seen before. With a loud crunch, Thompson went silent.
All of us clung to the boat and could no longer spare a hand to shoot at it. Two more rockets exploded against its side, but it hung stubbornly to us, awaiting its meal.
My hand was just about to slip when the creature expanded and released all of its tentacles. It gave an enormous burp, which sprayed teeth, parts of Thompson, and partially digested fish all over us. It went limp and sank. The boat dropped flat against the water.
I saw several more fins dart toward us and submerge just before reaching us. The sharks, I realized, feasted on the dying creatures. I found the thought gave me a strange comfort.
“Get back to it, we’re almost there,” Greene shouted. “If there’s three, there could be hundreds!”
I heard the collective gasp of the other marines on the boat at the implication.
We bumped against the Orion, and I found a hawser they’d dangled for us to grab hold of. The others secured their weapons, hatchets included, and climbed up. While they did, I told Greene that the witch stood on the beach. He spun, searched, and saw her.
“Corporal Conyers!” Greene shouted.
“Yes, sir?” echoed from above.
“Shoot the woman on the beach!” Greene ordered.
An enormous tentacle, far larger than any of the others I’d seen, rose up and wrapped completely around the boat.
“A kraken, Alex! I told you! I told you those others were small ones, didn’t I?” He pointed, smiled, and laughed, as if he’d just settled some great joke.
“Go, sir, go!” I shouted to Greene. I fired my shotgun into it, but it didn’t even flinch.
It pressed so tightly to the boat that the boards began to crack. Thankfully, it seems uninterested in us. I climbed up, tight on Greene’s heels. The boat fragmented into splinters beneath my feet. As I climbed, I discovered more tentacles attached to the sides of the ship. A truly gigantic creature lay below us, such that might break up and swallow the entire Orion.
On deck, all hands raced about in a frantic maelstrom. The massive tentacles did not search for men, they all hung tightly to the ship itself. The beams of the ship groaned and creaked with infuriation. Beattie shouted an endless stream of orders to attack them with all means available.
The 9-inch gun barked, and one tentacle recoiled for a brief moment. Rifles, shotguns, and pistols fired. Greene ran to Conyers and Meier, reiterating his orders to shoot the witch. Then, he ran below deck.
Our rocket squad had found four sailors to light the rockets. Using the shoulder fire technique Tomasini had come up with, the four lined up at one railing and fired as one at a single tentacle on the opposite railing, with little initial effect.
Daniels and Meeker, with a team of sailors, wrestled to work the howitzer as well, firing upon the same tentacle as the rocket squad.
“Fire!” Daniels shouted. The howitzer boomed. A moment later, Daniels cursed. “Dammit, canister’s worthless. Let’s try the grapeshot!”
I stopped hacking at one of the tentacles to catch my breath. I looked up to see Meier focused on the beach with a telescope while Conyers fired the Whitworth Rifle. They both cursed and Conyers reloaded.
Once again, I noticed shark fins dancing about, a short distance from the boat.
“Chum!” I shouted.
I searched the deck for Beattie, found him, and ran to him.
“Captain,” I said in huff. “The sharks! They attacked the other three when we’d injured them. If we dump chum and whatever else we can on the creature, maybe they’ll attack it too!”
He shrugged.
“Nothing else is working, we might as well try it,” he replied. He grabbed a collection of sailors and sent them to collect whatever shark bait they could find.
Greene re-emerged, with Van Benthuysen helping him to carry another crate of grenades to the deck.
“Marines, come and get ‘em,” he shouted. Every man of Unit Thirteen, myself included, ran up to grab a grenade.
“Toss them between the great arms, men, get the armpits if you will,” he said. “And careful! Don’t kill yourself.”
As he said the last, one of the privates tripped as they ran toward the edge. The grenade tore a hole in the deck and launched his mangled corpse over the side.
“Dammit, I said be careful,” Greene repeated, a morose dread in his eyes.
Water lapped over the edges of the railing, and I realized the boat had been dragged down to the water line. In moments, we would be submerged, and it would all be over.
I discovered the rocket squad and the howitzer team had nearly severed the tentacle they’d focused on.
Conyers whooped a cry of elation, which I assumed was from a good shot. A moment later, he froze. Then, he collapsed to the deck. Blood trickled from a hole in his head.
Meier screamed with rage and grabbed the Whitworth from his dead partner.
Sailors all around dumped chum and buckets of fat, blood, fish, and the like all around. The circling sharks burrowed into the sides of the creature.
Boards in the center of the deck cracked and splintered. The ship was not far from buckling altogether.
“I got her!” Meier shouted. “By the Dickens, I got that white strumpet, but good!”
Tears formed in his eyes as he looked down on Conyers.
“That was for you, Alan.”
I heard a great, but distant, eruption of cannon fire and the Orion lurched sharply starboard. Two large cannonballs tore through the air overhead.
The Wabash had pulled up closer to us and had fired a broadside into the kraken. I’m not sure how many of the Wabash’s forty-two guns hit the monster, but all the massive arms on that side of the ship released.
The ship dipped into the water on the starboard side as only those tentacles held on. Water washed up over the side. I was certain the boat was about to capsize.
All at once, the tentacles dropped away. The ship bounced up and swung violently to port. I went into the air and nearly flew off the ship, but Van Benthuysen caught me. A few others were not so lucky, and I’d just taken great care to ensure that sharks filled the waters around us. The crew of the howitzer lost control of it, and it smashed through the railing, taking a sailor with it.
The ship settled. The crew collected themselves. Beattie shouted orders to take roll and check the ship for damage. After I’d thanked Van Benthuysen, I directed him to account for Unit Thirteen. While I took a moment to catch my breath, I let my gaze drift out to the water between us and the Wabash.
Tiny pockets of churning water lined the side of the Orion, where the sharks feasted on whatever sailors and marines had gone over. Some screamed when they surfaced, some thrashed about in a desperate, losing battle. Some of the sailors on decks threw out ropes, but none were saved.
Further out, in the space between the two ships, a much greater maelstrom convulsed about. The enormous kraken writhed in agony as it was set upon by dozens of sharks, perhaps as many as a hundred. The thrashing beast drove fast toward the Wabash, and I feared the beast meant to take down its more powerful tormentor. The rows of cannons would be almost useless engulfed in the creature’s arms.
The Wabash poured another broadside into the water as it closed. A couple more shots tore across our deck, but didn’t hit anyone and no one felt the need to curse the Wabash. After the great blast of cannon, the enormous beast stopped in place. It lurched about for a moment, and then surged south as if looking to escape.
“Hell of a sight, isn’t it?” Greene, who’d appeared beside me, asked. “Never thought I’d see one of them this close. Hoped I wouldn’t, I suppose I should say.”
“Why doesn’t it go deeper under?” I asked. “It would be safe from the cannons there.”
“I think that’s your doing, Alex,” Greene said. “The only part that isn’t getting chewed up by sharks right now is the part above water. But now it’s realized it’s in a wicked state all around.”
I turned to look at him. His face was covered in black powder and blood trailed down from a gash on the side of his head. His left arm was scorched black. He leaned awkwardly to his left and had his right knee slightly bent in pain.
“You look to be in a wicked state yourself, Addison,” I said.
“You’re one to talk, Alex,” he replied. “Besides, we won. It’s a great day. Or night, I suppose.”
My gaze returned to the base of our ship where the shrieks and churning had ceased.
“Not for them,” I said. “It was my bright idea to collect all those sharks in here, and all those men are dying horrible deaths for it.”
His hand shot to my jaw and forced my head to point toward the flailing kraken, which crawled away from ships.
“Your bright idea is what’ll be the end of that thing,” he said. “This ship would’ve gone down, and the Wabash and the Mohican might have as well. Those sharks would’ve had a much finer feast then, on all of us. And then the Blues would’ve come back in and killed or captured our whole contingent in Saint Augustine. And then, knowing how successful she’d been, that witch would’ve summoned that beast, and all its little baby beasts, to go take on more of our fleets in other places. She could’ve opened back up all these ports we’ve been taking, the blockade could have crumbled, and the war would be lost.
“All those other ships in the Union Navy don’t have us on board. They might not have Hale rockets, they might not have Ketchum grenades, but, even if they did, they wouldn’t have Special Unit Thirteen on board. They don’t have a dragon fighting on their decks,” he pointed back to our moonlit flag, with the golden, Chinese dragon proudly flapping about in the wind, “and they don’t have a man like you to lead them.”
“What do you mean? You’re the officer.” I said, confused. “Hell, even Daniels and Meeker rank above me, now.”
“Horse piss, Alex,” he replied. “You’ve been the true officer in this company since long before I joined it. All I’ve done is given these men the right tools and pointed them in the right direction. You’re the one who leads them.”
We watched the fading sea battle in silence while I considered his words. Ever since we’d left Hampton Roads, I’d envisioned having a chance to find and fight the beast I’d seen aboard the Governor. I’d never imagined there were more than one and despite what Greene had said, I’d never pictured them being any larger than that first one I’d seen. I had, however, dreamed of defeating them and had thought that doing so would have brought me great elation. As it was, I felt no different.
“What’s more, the creature will not be back, and that’s on you,” he continued. “That ship over there could’ve wailed away as it did, but the creature could’ve just slunk away and licked its wounds. But instead, you drew those sharks in, emboldened them, and helped give them a taste for it. Those sharks are gonna hound it all the way back to hell. Could take days, damn it all, it could take decades. But that thing will not be back to bother us, you mark my words, Alex. And that is all on you. Those men died doing their duty, and we will honor them for it. Whatever guilt you have over what happened to them had better be matched against the knowledge that your actions defeated the greatest creature I’ve ever heard of. Well, you, Conyers, and Meier as well.”
“Wait, what?” I asked.
“One of them, or both of them, got a shot on that white witch of ours,” he said. “You do remember she had a part to play in this, right?”
I felt myself go flush with both embarrassment and anger.
“Of course not, you miserable—”
“Easy, there, Sergeant,” Greene smiled. “Anyway, I figure she was either the one calling the beast or knew how to draw its attention, maybe even controlling it, and possibly protecting it somehow. If it hadn’t been for those two sharpshooters, we might still have a fight on our hands, you never know.”
“So, did they get her, then?” I asked. “There were two soldiers with her that I saw.” Conyers’ fate returned to my consciousness. “Oh lord, Alan. . .”
He tilted his head. “Yeah, something got him, one of those two soldiers, maybe, but we gotta find out what. Plus, both Alan and Paul seemed to think they got her.”
“Well, what are we waiting on, then, let’s go get her!” I said.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Greene said. “I was afraid you might be played out again. I wasn’t sure if you’d have it in you to go chasing her down.”
Chapter 18: The Hunt Resumes
G reene, Meier, Cash, and I rowed out in the moonlight toward the beach where I’d seen the witch and the soldiers. It was difficult to determine where, exactly, they’d been. Earlier, I’d spotted her because of her brilliant white glow. That the glow was gone meant that she was either dead or departed. I assumed the latter, as I did not truly believe she could be killed.
After we pulled up on the shore, it did not take us long to discover the two soldiers I’d seen. Neither were covered in hair, as I’d thought one had been. Both were former men of Unit Thirteen. One was Private Josiah Garland, who’d disappeared in the swamp on Roanoke. The other was Private John Parker, the same who’d left us the night prior.
Garland was dead, shot clean through the neck. He was pale, as if he’d been dead for days. His rifle lay loaded and unfired by his side.
