Chapter 15
The metallic taste of stale water floods her mouth, filling her lungs, as Bella crashes into the churning froth. Lost in the bubbles and murk, she fights disorientation in search of the air above. Reaching the surface, she desperately squints through the deluge to find the rest of her team. A few feet away, Jacob appears.
"The hell is this?" he shouts above the roar of falling water. The strain of keeping his body afloat with heavier equipment is apparent.
"Fucking Carlisle," Bella says to herself, not caring if her radio is active. She hears Emmett calling her name. "Over here," she shouts.
Emmett swims to them. "Have you seen any land?" he asks over the din of rain.
"No." Bella says. Bella radios Observation. "Edward?"
"Everyone okay?" Edward asks. His voice is clear inside her head against the noise surrounding them.
"Yeah." She forces the words through the water splashing into her mouth.
"I can just make you out," Edward says. Through the rain spattering against the window, he sees their tiny heads in the dark waves. "There's a platform about twenty meters into the Pen."
The team confirms the information and begins fighting through the ebbing water.
"Come on," Emmett shouts as Jacob begins to fall behind. He turns back and takes the heavy SAW from Jacob, holding both it and his own rifle against his chest, pumping forward with his legs.
"Thanks," the breathless Jacob says, speeding up from the lightened load.
Reaching the platform, Bella tosses her rifle and tactical vest out of the water. She breaths heavily, reaching back and pulling Jacob to her once he's in reach. Thick strands of water fall down her face. Her hair grips to her skin. "Move," she orders Jacob, pushing him up.
Jacob rolls onto the platform and removes his soaking vest as he catches his breath. Waves crash over the side of the metal island. He reaches out and takes the weapons out of Emmett's hands. They clank beside him, loud over the torrents from the ceiling. His fingers grip tight into the back of Bella's collar, pulling her up beside him. Together they assist Emmett out of the water.
"Gamma, come in." Edward's harried voice repeats in their head while they lay on the platform, exhausted. The metal square is just big enough for their three outstretched bodies. The rain never ceases. "Confirm you made it to the platform."
"We're here," Bella answers. Frustration and wariness is obvious in her voice. There are more important concerns, she knows. With a groan, she sits up and grabs her rifle. She releases the magazine, extracts a round and examines it, hoping the powder isn't soaked. Hoping they can still fight whatever Carlisle's prepared.
A sudden blast catches her by surprise. She jerks around to see the Emmett pointing his rifle into the gray distance of the Pen. Fading smoke rises from the muzzle. "It works," he says.
"What are you shooting at?" Edward's voice cracks through the radio.
"Just checking the equipment." Emmett drops the rifle back to his side with a clatter.
Jacob grabs his plastic drums of chain-ammo and dumps the water from them, using his hand as a sieve. The liquid pools beside him. He slides a drum to Emmett. While Emmett loads a drum into the SAW, Jacob checks the pockets of his tactical vest.
"Damn it," Jacob says, loud against the rain slamming on the metal around them.
"What?" Bella asks. She stands and stretches, her legs weak under her.
"My pills are soaked." Jacob chucks the plastic tube into the waves beside them.
"You hear that, Edward?" Bella radios up.
"Yeah." In Observation, a dumbfounded Edward sits before the rain-speckled window, forcing his focus onto the gray shapes below. The dark room is still. The rhythm of his heavy breathing his only security. No leverage. No changeling. No clue of what is coming.
The dull tat-tat-tat-tat of Emmett testing the SAW bounces against the window. "Weapons work," Edward radios, just wanting them to be quiet. "Now sit tight until we know what we're dealing with."
"Roger that," Bella answers. Her shoulders shiver as she deactivates her radio. "Okay, guys. Catch your breath. Keep your ammo dry."
Jacob forces a sarcastic chuckle. Tucking the ammo drums into his lap, he wraps his arms around his knees and stares into the dreary depths of the Pen.
In Observation, Edward collapses his face into his palms, elbows resting on the edge of the desk. The names of aquatic creatures, none of which he anticipated based on the false information given by the Colonel, pound against the corners of his mind. Scattered. Unorganized. He, the team, is completely unprepared. The realization makes him sick.
Alice can't watch. Her head down, forearms over her ears, fingers interlocked. Nerves and fury make her legs bounce.
In the underground storm, the anxious Emmett paces the platform. After several minutes, he stops, staring deep into the Pen. His arms tense, the chilly water soaking through his clothes. His eyes narrow.
"I'm done with this shit," he finally says. He draws the sword from the sheath across his back, the silver metal glistening as the faux-lightning flashes.
"What are you going to do?" Jacob asks.
"Grab your gun," Emmett says, gripping the sword handle tight in both hands, blade pointing to the ceiling. "It's time to get started."
"Shit," Bella says, grabbing her rifle with one hand while activating her radio with the other. "Edward, you there?"
Letting out a primal grunt, Emmett slams the base of sword against the platform. The cacophonous ring envelops them, drowning out the rain and waves.
"What was that?" Edward radios.
Emmett repeats the motion, stronger, louder this time. Jacob curses, futilely pressing his shoulders against his ears to block out the noise as he lays behind his SAW.
Bella grimaces at the reverberations. "Emmett's waking up your test."
Three more times Emmett pounds the platform. The rain's drizzle takes over as the ring echoes away. The waves splash over the sides, water gathering around the team. Save for the motions of the confined sea and falling rain, there is nothing.
"What was the point of that?" Edward asks, annoyed that Emmett would act without orders. "Answer me."
"Please shut it, sir." Emmett's deliberate drone dribbles out of Observation's speakers.
Heat runs from Edward's chest to his fingertips. Deep breath, he thinks. Calm. They're the ones in danger. They're the experts.
A bass-filled groan from deep within the recesses of the Pen surrounds the platform. A wind to the team's back, the falling rain shifting in the air towards the gray. The water ebbs around the platform, before rushing back. A rumble like distant thunder.
"That's weird," Jacob says, absently. He focuses down the sights of the SAW.
Emmett, lips pursed in thought, moves to Bella.
"That sound familiar?" he whispers in her ear.
Bella nods, teeth clenched and eyes wide. The looming threat tempers the rage building in her gut. We have to get through this, she thinks.
"What was that?" Edward asks, over the radio.
Another groan and rumble. The water retreats momentarily before surging up again.
Bella glances Emmett, who nods, before she answers. "Sir, we think we're dealing with an isleman."
Edward blanches. He looks back at Alice, pleadingly. She shakes her head. Turning the other direction, Edward watches the stoic Colonel observing, mute, for any glimmer of assistance. His chair squeals in discomfort as he faces back to the window. In the hundreds of creatures readily available in his mind, the term 'isleman' is completely absent.
"Repeat that," he radios back down to the platform.
"An isleman," Bella says again. "The last one died years ago."
Shit, Edward thinks. That's why I haven't heard of it. I focused only on what I could potentially see. "Great," he radios. "What can you tell me about it."
Another rumble. Closer now.
Emmett speaks. "They're big, blind, and stupid."
A darkened shape begins to appear in the distance. A louder groan, guttural, the type felt in the bones.
Heart pounding, Edward's eyes dart across the Pen. Desperation for details take hold. He shakes his head, failing to see anything besides grey and grey. "How do you stop them?" he finally asks.
Bella sighs as Emmett steps away to watch the approaching mass. The water feels colder, her rifle heavier. Her thrill for Edward's first training mission dissipates in the realization of their odds. Finally, she allows herself to answer.
"You don't." Her defeated voice causes Jacob to look back at her with a frown.
Biting the inside of his lip, Edward stares at Colonel Cullen in the dark corner. The senior officer remains still, arms across his chest.
Fuck, Edward thinks. He wants to end this, to not put the team through any of this headache. He knows that's not viable.
The team waits as the rumbles and groans increase in volume and number. An occasional flicker of teal leaks through the rain.
The falling water goes horizontal as wind rushes around the team to the mass of darkness approaching. A moment later, it flies into their faces. Cool. Moist.
"That's an isleman," Emmett whispers through the radio.
The humanoid form appears through the falling rain. Its great, kelp-covered head sits mere feet from the high ceiling and its width covers a third of the Pen. The waves crash against the creature's knees. Massive fin-like arms shift at its sides. Dark seaweed covers the isleman like a pelt, water pouring in ribbons off the dangling plants.
"Jesus," Edward says, standing in awe of the monster. The silent Alice joins his side, gaping out the window.
Teal lights like stars run from the back of the isleman's head, midway down its torso. They brighten and dim in sequence, drawing attention to its face. The light reflects off four small, milky eyes.
"What's with the lights?" Alice asks, just loud enough for Edward to hear.
"Bioluminescence," he answers. His eyes narrow. That's a trait of deep-sea creatures to attract food, he thinks.
Suddenly, the isleman's massive maw opens from below its eyes. The lower jaw plummets to the water around its legs. Gaping and cavernous. The mouth of a whale. It inhales, the force causing Emmett and Bella to drop, bracing themselves against the platform. It raises its arms, creating a makeshift funnel leading down its throat.
"What are you going to do?" Alice asks, looking at him with a mix of concern and disbelief.
Gazing out the window, Edward's gut tightens. The mounting approach of failure fills him, angers him. Empowers him. His lips curl into a stubborn scowl.
"I'm going to stop that thing."