Day 183: 31 Jan 2011
Black and his guys were on the deck within seconds.
"Everything you've got, boys!" Black yelled.
His men raised their guns -- M4s, M249s, even a rocket launcher. They opened up on the God of the Seas with the last of the obsidian rounds. We could see small chunks flying off, but the rounds weren't hitting deep enough. Even the rocket only managed to kill a tentacle.
Turned out not to be a problem, though. Before Black and his guys could even reload, the God of the Skies appeared in front of us. None of us had heard or seen him approach -- he was suddenly just there. He dove right into the exposed head of the God of the Seas. The noise was awful -- a long, loud screeching wail, and I didn't know which God it was coming from. It hurt our ears powerfully. I clapped my hands over mine, and saw Black and his guys do the same as we watched the two Gods sink below the surface.
Soon after, the water turned red with blood.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Day One Hundred and Eighty-Two
Day 182: 30 Jan 2011
Travis floated to the surface today, unconscious and bleeding. Around midnight, the God of the Seas followed. He was neither unconscious nor bleeding. Just huge. And angry.
Travis floated to the surface today, unconscious and bleeding. Around midnight, the God of the Seas followed. He was neither unconscious nor bleeding. Just huge. And angry.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Day One Hundred and Eighty-One
Day 181: 29 Jan 2011
A tentacle here, a fin there, a chunk of what looked like whale blubber every once in a while. It was gross. But chunks of the God of the Seas kept floating to the surface throughout the day and into the night. I thought Travis was winning.
That is, of course, until a human hand popped up on the surface of the water.
"What's going on down there? Any idea?" I asked.
"Nothing good," Jason Black said, shaking his head. "With all this crap floating to the surface, you'd figure your guy's doing OK. But the radar reports we're getting back. . . the God of the Seas isn't getting smaller. It's getting larger."
A tentacle here, a fin there, a chunk of what looked like whale blubber every once in a while. It was gross. But chunks of the God of the Seas kept floating to the surface throughout the day and into the night. I thought Travis was winning.
That is, of course, until a human hand popped up on the surface of the water.
"What's going on down there? Any idea?" I asked.
"Nothing good," Jason Black said, shaking his head. "With all this crap floating to the surface, you'd figure your guy's doing OK. But the radar reports we're getting back. . . the God of the Seas isn't getting smaller. It's getting larger."
Friday, January 28, 2011
Day One Hundred and Eighty
Day 180: 28 Jan 2011
The fight wasn't going well. And it hadn't been going well for the better part of the last three days.
Cutting was a problem, as I mentioned before. Still, I managed here and there to cut off a fin, a tentacle. No good. They grew back. I was faster, more agile, but the few times the God of the Seas hit me, I thought I would shatter. He hit like a cruise missile.
He'd already broken one of my arms -- and I didn't even know they could break. I was getting tired, and that was a surprise, too. I hadn't been tired since the slug had implanted.
It didn't look good for me at all. But then, I started to hear a familiar voice. It was Jared, and he was in my head.
"You have to get him to surface, even for a fraction of a second," he told me.
"Jared?"
Nothing. I was apparently set to receive-only. But I knew what I had to do.
I just didn't have a clue as to how to do it.
The fight wasn't going well. And it hadn't been going well for the better part of the last three days.
Cutting was a problem, as I mentioned before. Still, I managed here and there to cut off a fin, a tentacle. No good. They grew back. I was faster, more agile, but the few times the God of the Seas hit me, I thought I would shatter. He hit like a cruise missile.
He'd already broken one of my arms -- and I didn't even know they could break. I was getting tired, and that was a surprise, too. I hadn't been tired since the slug had implanted.
It didn't look good for me at all. But then, I started to hear a familiar voice. It was Jared, and he was in my head.
"You have to get him to surface, even for a fraction of a second," he told me.
"Jared?"
Nothing. I was apparently set to receive-only. But I knew what I had to do.
I just didn't have a clue as to how to do it.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Day One Hundred and Seventy-Nine
Day 179: 27 Jan 2011
Have I mentioned how much I hate the water? I didn't used to, at all. But since this bug got inside me. . . Guh. I feel like a housecat being dangled over a full bathtub out here on this crappy little boat.
I'm not the only one in a bad mood. Black and his Navy buddies are getting bored, restless, angry, or some combination of the three. Radar hits are all over the place. A huge mass will pop up, then go black. And Travis ditching out a couple days back didn't help anyone's mood.
Frustration. Futility. Probably another F-word. These were the feelings on the ship this morning, and I could tell the guys wanted to pack it in. Pull up the anchor or whatever (sue me, I'm not a nautical person), and just haul for shore, hit a bar, and get stupid hammered.
Part of me supported that plan. Part of me was worried about Travis. But that plan got put on hold just past sunrise this morning.
Because that was when the first chunk of the God of the Seas -- a severed piece of tentacle a meter long -- broke the surface.
Have I mentioned how much I hate the water? I didn't used to, at all. But since this bug got inside me. . . Guh. I feel like a housecat being dangled over a full bathtub out here on this crappy little boat.
I'm not the only one in a bad mood. Black and his Navy buddies are getting bored, restless, angry, or some combination of the three. Radar hits are all over the place. A huge mass will pop up, then go black. And Travis ditching out a couple days back didn't help anyone's mood.
Frustration. Futility. Probably another F-word. These were the feelings on the ship this morning, and I could tell the guys wanted to pack it in. Pull up the anchor or whatever (sue me, I'm not a nautical person), and just haul for shore, hit a bar, and get stupid hammered.
Part of me supported that plan. Part of me was worried about Travis. But that plan got put on hold just past sunrise this morning.
Because that was when the first chunk of the God of the Seas -- a severed piece of tentacle a meter long -- broke the surface.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Day One Hundred and Seventy-Eight
Day 178: 26 Jan 2011
Days were passing in a fog. I was dimly aware of the medic, Briggs, checking my condition every so often. Sounds and colors filtered in and out. My eyes responded to my commands to open about half the time, but my vision was sketchy.
But then, suddenly, today -- hyper-awareness. I could see, feel, know everything. I knew what was kicking around in my bloodstream. L-3,4-dihydroxyphenylalanine, if you're wondering. I knew the room temperature was 68 degrees Fahrenheit. Briggs needed a shower.
More than that -- I could see through Travis' eyes. Knew he was underwater, just barely keeping it together against our father. I could communicate with the Gods of the Seas, Skies, Land.
And I knew Travis wasn't going to survive without help.
Days were passing in a fog. I was dimly aware of the medic, Briggs, checking my condition every so often. Sounds and colors filtered in and out. My eyes responded to my commands to open about half the time, but my vision was sketchy.
But then, suddenly, today -- hyper-awareness. I could see, feel, know everything. I knew what was kicking around in my bloodstream. L-3,4-dihydroxyphenylalanine, if you're wondering. I knew the room temperature was 68 degrees Fahrenheit. Briggs needed a shower.
More than that -- I could see through Travis' eyes. Knew he was underwater, just barely keeping it together against our father. I could communicate with the Gods of the Seas, Skies, Land.
And I knew Travis wasn't going to survive without help.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Day One Hundred and Seventy-Seven
Day 177: 25 Jan 2011
Finding something underwater isn't easy in the best of circumstances. It's dark, cold. Radar can be fooled. And now that my slug was a vegetable, I had no link to the God of the Seas' mind.
Still, my visual memory is pretty decent. I remembered the radar and sonar readings from the not-a-fishing-boat on the surface, so I had a general direction in which to go. My eyes are better underwater than they are even on land, so I figured I'd spot something his size pretty easily.
Didn't happen. Not quickly, anyway. The thing about the Atlantic Ocean -- there's a fucking lot of it, even when you're only going a few miles. There's a whole depth factor we don't have to deal with on land.
That's not to say I didn't find him eventually, because I did. After lord knows how many hours of swimming around down there -- it was after the sun had risen and set -- I finally spotted him. He was not exactly hiding, but not exactly out there in plain sight, either, floating below one of North Carolina's barrier islands. I tried to sneak up on him, but here's the thing -- he can see in all directions at once. So that wasn't going to happen, at all.
He charged at me as soon as he saw me, and even my brain-damaged slug could still hear him howling in rage. I brought up the blade.
Blades don't work well in water. Not swords, anyway. It's a physics thing -- too much resistance for them to get up any speed. Without speed, there's almost no slicing power. I didn't know this until just the second I tried to strike at the God of the Seas. It wasn't a good way to get a physics lesson.
I realized I was in a lot of trouble.
Finding something underwater isn't easy in the best of circumstances. It's dark, cold. Radar can be fooled. And now that my slug was a vegetable, I had no link to the God of the Seas' mind.
Still, my visual memory is pretty decent. I remembered the radar and sonar readings from the not-a-fishing-boat on the surface, so I had a general direction in which to go. My eyes are better underwater than they are even on land, so I figured I'd spot something his size pretty easily.
Didn't happen. Not quickly, anyway. The thing about the Atlantic Ocean -- there's a fucking lot of it, even when you're only going a few miles. There's a whole depth factor we don't have to deal with on land.
That's not to say I didn't find him eventually, because I did. After lord knows how many hours of swimming around down there -- it was after the sun had risen and set -- I finally spotted him. He was not exactly hiding, but not exactly out there in plain sight, either, floating below one of North Carolina's barrier islands. I tried to sneak up on him, but here's the thing -- he can see in all directions at once. So that wasn't going to happen, at all.
He charged at me as soon as he saw me, and even my brain-damaged slug could still hear him howling in rage. I brought up the blade.
Blades don't work well in water. Not swords, anyway. It's a physics thing -- too much resistance for them to get up any speed. Without speed, there's almost no slicing power. I didn't know this until just the second I tried to strike at the God of the Seas. It wasn't a good way to get a physics lesson.
I realized I was in a lot of trouble.
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