Submerged: The Labyrinth, Book 2, page 9
And that scared Tony, as well.
Frankie looked up at him and smiled. Tony smiled back. He could tell by her eyes and the set of her jaw that she was in pain. Whatever had bitten her had really left its mark. But she was getting through it, regardless. Not for the first time, Tony found himself in awe of her. Sure, he’d been flirting with her since Havenbrook...hell, since their five-course meal inside the Labyrinth. But the truth was, out of all of them, Frankie impressed him the most.
Slowly, Tony became aware that the helicopter had changed course. Instead of looking at the horizon and endless ocean, he now saw buildings and treetops jutting from the sea. Eventually, the waters began to recede as they flew further inland, until they came to solid ground. Not dry land—not with the ever-present rain—but a large, flat plateau high above the rising tide. People bustled about below, setting up canvas tents. He realized that it was a refugee camp.
The helicopter landed, and the whirring blades sent a fine spray of raindrops across the passengers inside. Then, slowly, the engine noise faded to a low whine, and then silence.
One by one, they disembarked from the chopper, helping Frankie and the other two wounded locals. Medics appeared and loaded the man with the missing fingers onto a stretcher, and then hurried away with him. Frankie stood supported between Tony and LeHorn.
“So, what the fuck happened to your ankle?” Tony stretched, working out the kinks in his muscles from sitting for so long.
“A mermaid bit me.”
Teddy knelt, groaning, and gently examined the wound.
“No sign of the white fuzz,” he muttered.
“The what?” LeHorn asked.
“The white fuzz,” Teddy repeated, standing and stretching. “It’s a sort of fungus. I reckon it comes from wherever Behemoth comes from, and it’s transmitted by the worms. Nasty stuff. I’ve seen it growing on all sorts of living things. Trees. People. Turns you into a sort of zombie until eventually you just melt away.”
Frankie frowned. “I’ve had enough zombies for a while, thank you very much.”
“Regardless, we should get your ankle looked at,” LeHorn suggested. “Tony, do you think you can get her to a medical tent? There must be one around here somewhere.”
He nodded. “Sure. What are you two gonna do?”
“Look for Sarah, Henry and Bloom,” Teddy replied.
LeHorn nodded. “And the Exit. If he...”
The rest of LeHorn’s statement was drowned out by the approach and landing of another helicopter. More mist swirled around them. Tony squinted his eyes and focused on supporting Frankie. When the mist cleared, the two older men had already moved on. Tony shrugged. He didn’t need to hear the rest of LeHorn’s concerns anyway. He shared them. Amun had turned all of them into weapons against the Thirteen. But the Exit was a tactical nuke. And if Henry was with him, Tony didn’t want the kid to still be there when the bomb went off.
“SO, are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?”
At first, LeHorn didn’t think Teddy had heard him. The older man stood amidst the crowd of refugees and survivors, craning his head to the left and right. He barely seemed to notice the steady rainfall pattering against his scalp and shoulders.
Then, slowly, Teddy turned to him in acknowledgement. “Hmm?”
“I said,” LeHorn repeated, “do you want to tell me what’s on your mind?”
“I...” Teddy paused, and wiped the rain from his pale brow. He looked at his wet palm with an annoyed expression and then flicked the droplets away.
“Why don’t we get out of the rain for a bit?” LeHorn suggested.
“Well, that’s just it, Nelson. Once the rain has started, there’s no hiding from it. A couple weeks from now, it will have permeated everything. Your clothes. The walls of your house. Even the air you breathe. Y’all haven’t been in this situation before. I have.”
“I’ve been in rainstorms before, Teddy.”
“Not like this, you haven’t. Any storm you’ve been in, it stopped eventually. But this won’t stop. It’ll just keep coming and coming, and the water will get higher and higher until...”
He sighed, and his shoulders sagged.
“Teddy,” LeHorn said gently. “We’ll stop them in time. Leviathan and Behemoth both.”
The older man shook his head. “You don’t know that. You can’t know that. And I don’t either.”
“Maybe so, but I do know one thing. I know that I’m not giving up. And neither should you. We’ll stand together.”
“Together?” Teddy swept his arm, gesturing. “Half our team is missing, Nelson! The Exit. Bloom. And Sarah and Henry.”
LeHorn studied him for a minute. Two medics bustled by them carrying a screaming woman on a stretcher. There was blood all over her, but LeHorn couldn’t tell if it belonged to the patient or to the upper half of a dead infant that she cradled in her arms. The baby’s eyes were still open. It looked like something had squeezed it in half from just above the belly button. Sucker marks dotted the corpse’s still pink skin. LeHorn’s gorge rose. His expression paled, and he averted his eyes. When he looked up again, he saw that Teddy had done the same.
“I’ve seen bad things in my life,” Teddy said. “During the war. And during the end, when the rains came. But that right there might have been the worst of it.”
“Yeah.” LeHorn nodded. “My God.”
“Not anymore.”
“No, I guess not.”
“I won’t lie,” Teddy said. “I spent my entire life believing in God, but right now I kind of want to kick the snot out of Him for the mess we’re in.”
They stood in silence, listening to the screams and shouts, and the incessant sound of the falling rain. Then, Teddy motioned again.
“Come on.”
The old man started forward, splashing through puddles. LeHorn had to hurry to keep up with him. Survivors and first responders bustled about them. Thunder boomed overhead.
“Bloom’s tough,” LeHorn reminded him. “He can hold his own. You saw how he operated back in Iraq. He’s been facing these kind of odds longer than either of us.”
“It ain’t him I’m worried about so much. Although I do hope he’s okay, of course. And I’m not so worried about Sarah, either. I know for a fact that girl can take care of herself. It’s Henry. He’s only a kid.”
“We’ll find them.”
“We have to,” Teddy insisted. “They’re...ever since we were born again...”
“Yes?”
“Well, I mean, we died, Nelson. We died. And this body may be a new me, but the old me is still in here. Sarah and Henry are the last links I have to my old self. My old life. The thought of that boy out there somewhere in this mess, with only the Exit to watch over him? I’m afraid for him.”
“I am, too,” LeHorn admitted.
Both men quickened their pace.
PART II
IN HIS HOUSE AT R’LYEH
11
A fter going through the doorway with the Exit, the first thing Henry was aware of before he began to drown was the city. It spread out below them as far as he could see, stretching from horizon to horizon. Despite having grown up in the tiny town of Punkin Center, West Virginia, Henry had been to cities before. He’d visited Washington D.C. for a field trip with his sixth-grade class, and remembered arguing with Max Hutchens about the moon rocks on display in one of the museums. (Max had insisted they weren’t from space, but rather, had been dug up in someone’s backyard. Max said his father had told him this. His father was also apparently of a mind that dinosaur bones were a trick by the devil, and in fact, weren’t real).
The sheer immensity of the city was staggering. As he gazed, wide-eyed, Henry was reminded of Washington’s architecture. He saw obelisks and towers similar to the Washington monument, and pillars and columns like those on the Lincoln Memorial. But there were other structures that seemed to dominate the metropolis—spheres and ovals and horrific, gargantuan statues and bas-reliefs. The visuals played tricks on his eyes. Surfaces appeared flat yet tilted, and concave angles became convex when he moved his head. Henry had studied geometry in school. It hadn’t been his favorite subject, but he’d liked it well enough. He knew enough about it to know that the geometry here was all wrong, and looking at it for even those first few brief seconds—and even through a haze of water—made him anxious with fear and revulsion.
That was when Henry realized that he was drowning. He panicked, flailing about, and jerked his hand free of the Exit’s grasp. He had a memory then of a dream he’d had while sheltering in Fred Laudermilk’s grain silo back home, when the world had first flooded. In that nightmare, he’d been sinking to the bottom of the sea, and there had been a giant door at the bottom of the ocean floor. Monsters had poured from that opening. Here, in real-life, there was no door. He glanced backward at the opening he and the Exit had come through, but it was gone. There was only the vast metropolis, and the slimy, muddy ocean bottom around it, barely visible in the murk.
Despite his efforts, Henry sank. He glanced upward, but there was no sign of the surface. Only more water. The Exit reached for him, but Henry slipped further away. He tried to apologize, but that only made things worse. His ears began to ring, and his pulse hammered in his throat. It hurt, drowning. Henry was surprised by how much it hurt. It felt like one of those giant worms was sitting on his chest.
Then, quite suddenly, the pain vanished, and a strange sense of calm came over him.
As his consciousness began to fade, Henry thought of his dead cat, Moxey, and wondered if she’d be waiting for him, wherever he was going now.
THE EXIT FELT a surge of panic as he realized what was happening. Obviously, he had miscalculated. He’d planned to bring both the boy and himself to the Great Deep, to confront Leviathan on the creature’s home turf, before it had a chance to cross over onto that other level. But what he’d forgotten was that the Great Deep was mostly water. Yes, it was also a city—a vast, sprawling cluster of buildings and temples and arches that seemingly had no end—but they existed amidst water, and were surrounded by water.
Henry went limp below him, and closed his eyes. Then, the teen sank slowly toward the loathsome ocean floor. Pushing away his panic, the Exit swam after him and grabbed a fistful of the boy’s hair. Then, he seized Henry’s hand and dragged him along through the water. Ignoring his own desperately pounding pulse and the incessant whine in his ears, the Exit swam toward the massive underwater city. Nothing moved among the abnormal, non-Euclidean structures, and for that he was grateful.
They approached a massive cube that had been carved out of some sort of black rock, but as he swam closer, the shape of the structure changed, with the sharp edges seeming to round and curve. Then, the outlines of the cube blurred and shimmered, like some sort of underwater heat mirage. Attributing the sudden change in optics to his own oxygen deprivation, the Exit pushed harder, surging toward what appeared to be an opening at the top. They hovered above it, but again, as he closed the distance, the door or window (he couldn’t be sure which) seemed to shift, and now it was directly in front of them, rather than below.
The Exit’s vision began to dim. Using the last of his strength, he propelled them through the strange entrance, and was immediately engulfed by darkness. At first, it felt as if they were swimming down a slope, but then they floated upward, and his head broke the surface. The Exit gasped, taking great, noisy gulps of air.
“Henry!”
He yanked the boy above the surface, cradling him in his arms. In the darkness, it was impossible to see the teen’s face, so the Exit leaned close to him, putting his ear against Henry’s nose and mouth. The teen wasn’t breathing.
The Exit panicked. “No! You can’t die on me, boy. I need you for this. I can’t do it alone.”
Still cradling Henry in his arms, he tried to give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but each time, they both sank beneath the surface again. Gasping, the Exit propelled himself forward, dragging the teen’s limp form and searching for a solid surface to stand upon. The space they were in was quiet, except for the gentle lapping of the water. Somehow, that made the impenetrable darkness even more foreboding. Indeed, the Exit didn’t think he had ever experienced darkness like this before. It engulfed them entirely. He imagined this must be what it was like to be inside of Nodens.
His elbow bumped against what felt like stone. He realized that it was a raised platform of some kind. Clambering atop it, the Exit lay Henry across his lap, and gently tilted the boy’s head back. Then, doing the best he could by feeling rather than sight, he placed one hand on the teen’s forehead and pinched his nose shut. The Exit took a normal breath—difficult given his mounting sense of dread—and then leaned forward, placing his mouth to Henry’s, and blowing. He repeated the process again and again.
“Come on, Henry,” he gasped, between attempts. “Come on!”
As if in response, Henry coughed and squirmed. The Exit sat him up quickly. Retching, Henry lashed out in the dark, striking at him with both fists.
“Henry! Stop. It’s me!”
“Who?”
“The Exit.”
Henry sighed, and went limp. “Woo-boy. I’m sorry, sir. Did I hit you?”
“You did. But I will be okay.”
“I can’t see.” The teenager’s voice verged on panic. “Am I blind?”
“No, you’re not blind. I can’t see either. It’s dark.”
“Where are we?”
“Inside R’lyeh.”
“Ray what?”
“R’lyeh,” the Exit repeated. “Another name for the Great Deep, but also the name of the great city that occupies the Great Deep.”
“Sort of like New York, New York?”
“Something like that, yes.”
The Exit frowned. He’d told the teenager all of this before, during their conversation on the previous level. Why did he not remember it? Could the realm be impacting his mental state already?
Henry suddenly scrambled away. The Exit heard him vomiting. When he was finished, they sat in silence for a while.
“Be careful,” the Exit cautioned. “I don’t know what we are sitting on, but there is water all around us. Don’t stray too far.”
“I still ain’t too sure I understand, Mr. Exit. What’s this Great Deep all about?”
The Exit breathed through his mouth, as the stench of vomit was strong.
“It’s another dimension,” he explained, “composed almost entirely of water. The flooding that destroyed your level, and is in the process of doing the same to the level we just departed? That is caused by the Great Deep actually absorbing those levels.”
He felt Henry shudder beside him.
“That don’t sound like a fun place.”
“It’s not,” the Exit confirmed. “But since this is also the home of Leviathan, we have no choice but to come here, into the lion’s den, so to speak.”
“But why?”
“Because I’m going to face him, and stop him once and for all. And you’re going to help me.”
“You keep saying that, but you haven’t told me how. No offense, Mr. Exit, but I’ve seen just what—”
Henry stopped talking.
The Exit cocked his head and listened.
Something slithered in the darkness. Then there was a splash.
They were not alone.
The sound came again—wet and soft and sneaky, followed by another splash in the water.
The Exit felt Henry scoot up against him in the darkness. His posture was stiff. Both of them held their breath, waiting. The sound inched closer, and Henry stiffened even more.
Don’t scream, the Exit thought, wishing he knew how to communicate telepathically, the way Lucifer had done in Baghdad. If we can’t see it, maybe it can’t see us. Just stay silent and...
Something cold and wet brushed tentatively against his ankle. The Exit recoiled, jerking his leg away.
Henry whimpered in the dark.
The unseen intruder returned, more insistent this time. The Exit felt it brush up against his foot again, as if exploring. He held still, hoping it would move on.
I don’t have a weapon, he thought. That’s okay. Amun said we are the weapons.
Suddenly, the invisible appendage wrapped itself around his ankle and yanked him forward. The Exit squawked in surprise as his back hit the hard surface. He flailed his arms, searching for something to hold on to. Henry’s hand closed around his.
“Something has me,” the Exit gasped. “Don’t let—”
The creature tugged. Henry’s fingers slipped away, and the Exit was pulled once again into the water. Unable to see his opponent, he had to rely on his other senses, but they offered only bewildering clues. To the Exit, it felt like he was fighting a giant tentacle, unattached to anything else. More likely he was struggling with a monstrous sea serpent or eel. Curiously, the thing made no sound. Indeed, the only things the Exit heard as the water closed over his head was Henry’s muffled shouts and his pulse pounding in his ears.
The thing coiled around him as it dragged him down, snaking up his leg and then wrapping around his waist. The Exit grabbed at the cold flesh. It seemed to be covered in what felt like slime or mucous, and his fingers slid right over it. He felt muscles flexing beneath the skin. His lungs began to ache.
Distantly, he heard Henry shouting again.
He had a flash of memory then—of Amun telling them that if their prime selves died, that was it. No chance of being reborn. No other versions of them existing across the levels anymore.
The creature continued to wrap him, coiling around his chest and climbing toward his throat. Luckily, his arms were still free. The Exit reached out blindly, seizing the appendage in both hands. It almost slipped from his grasp, so he dug his fingernails into the slimy skin. He felt the creature shudder.
So, he thought, you do feel pain.
Grinning beneath the water, the Exit darted his head forward, jerked the appendage toward his mouth, and bit down hard. Something that tasted like warm, salty sardine oil filled his mouth. His stomach roiled. He fought the urge to retch, knowing that if he did, he would drown. Instead, he clenched his jaws tighter, feeling the rubbery flesh part like butter. More putrid fluid filled his mouth, but he ignored the taste. Then, shaking his head like a dog, the Exit tore away a massive mouthful of the creature and spat it out.
