Chapter 6: Mack The Knife
Disclaimer: Again, I own nothing, nada, zip, zilch except for Octavia "Canary" West.
The door finished opening and Albert and I immediately hugged the doorframe, holding our guns up at the ready. I couldn't see any undead and I didn't smell anything other than fish and saltwater. The only sounds I could hear was the bubbles and hum from the filtration device in the giant tank. The tank was dim like it was the bottom of a coral reef at night.
"Do you know why this part of the aquarium was closed off," Albert inquired.
"Yeah, the note in the office that was about the door being closed, said something about Neptunes or something or other getting in and eating the actual residents of the tank. Which is really weird, I mean, what can eat a shark and still fit in a tank?"
I didn't see his face but I could have sworn he clenched his fist tighter around his gun and his body tensed up.
The inside of the shark room was mostly made up of the gigantic tank that surrounded the walkway. The walkway was a tube enclosed on all sides by the glass of the tank. The sides of the tube had the occasional wooden bench against the metal, lower part of the reinforced glass tube. I could just imagine sitting there and watching all the graceful predators of the deep gliding overhead for at least an hour. That would be impossible however, and not just because of the undead on the island.
The tank as far as I could see was empty, which was odd. The tank was full to the top with water. There were the usual underwater plants and fake coral for ambiance. There was also fine white sand at the bottom of the tank, hiding the concrete foundation. Someone had even gotten fancy, and had put in some fancy looking roman columns and statues that were cracked and ancient looking, that made the shark habitat look like a sunken temple. However the true emptiness of the tank was the lack of life.
As I made my way inside the room, I could see a few indistinct shapes at the far end of the tank, but what grabbed my attention were the white objects at the bottom of the tank. If I didn't know any better I would say they were bone and the bits of flesh clinging to them would suggest that. However the set of pointed jaws a foot away let me know that it was cartilage on the bottom of the tank and that Albert and I had a problem.
All of a sudden, the massive, bullet shaped, slate gray head of a gigantic shark slammed itself against the glass wall of the tank next to me. It didn't break through the glass, but it left a small, jagged looking crack. I came very close to losing control of my bowels and backed away out of the shark's line of sight, looking terrified, as I looked for any more sharks. I went straight back to hugging the doorframe to keep as far away from the humongous and aggressive beast, keeping myself in the Octopus Room.
Peering around the corner, I could see the monster that had terrified me and it was truly massive. It could have easily been fifteen feet, from tail to snout. I could also see where patches in the scarred skin had either fallen off; or had the skin ripped as it had grown to such an enormous size? The pupils of its eyes were a milky white instead of the usual black you would see in a shark's eye or any eye for that matter. The teeth were multiple points of dingy white in a grayish black mouth.
Dammit, they just had to make an undead shark, didn't they? What happened? Did someone just get up one morning and decide that there wasn't anything creepy or deadly enough in the water? They were wrong, very wrong! Have they ever heard of the goblin shark? Or was this for a Bond villain's evil moat? Were piranhas and regular sharks not badass or terrifying enough for you?
I didn't think the situation could get any worse. Then I saw the other giant undead shark. It was just as large and undead as the one that had rammed the tank. I wanted to sit down and cry like a baby that had had its candy taken away. I couldn't believe that there were two of them.
Where's Martin Brody when you need him?
The note I had found in the office had mentioned something called Neptunes. Is that what these things were? The displays that I could see showed the different kinds of shark that had been kept in the gigantic tank. Tiger sharks, bull sharks, shortfin mako sharks, whitetip reef sharks, blue sharks, all of these sharks and more had lived in the massive tank. The only things that could have led to the deaths of all these predators could be the two massive undead sharks hungrily swimming around the tank. I could see more clumps of cartilage, flesh, and bone throughout the tank, at least where I could see. If I poked my head out even further, I could see the half decomposing head and chest of a human being
Yep, they killed everything that had lived in the tank, some poor schmuck who had probably gotten too close, and if they broke through the glass, Albert and I were next on the menu.
I looked all around my general vicinity for something, anything that could help us and when I looked up, I hit pay dirt. There was a copper colored trapdoor hatch just outside the entryway into the Octopus Room on the ceiling. Even more interesting was the fact that it had the same shark fin design as the key I had found on top of the vending machine in the Penguin Room. It was fairly high up due to the high ceilings of the aquarium, but I had a way around that. It was official, I had a plan.
Good observational skills could not be more valuable in emergency situations like these. Thank you, my crazy prepared grandfather with military veteran friends. Thank you, for making me do a test run for all those obstacle courses you make for shits and giggles. Thank you, for taking horror movies WAY too seriously and making me join in on the MST3K style commentary and making plans for if we ever ended up living out one of the scenarios from the aforementioned horror movies. I will however state that the plan based on Day of the Triffids is way too contrived. I mean, when are we ever going to find mobile poisonous plants? Then again, going on what I heard about what happened in Raccoon City…
"Albert, can you give me a boost to that hatch?"
"Do you have a key or are you going to just try picking the lock with on of your hairpins?"
"As a matter of fact, I do have a key and I am fairly certain it will fit that lock, mostly because they have the same insignia," I said holding up the copper colored key.
"Where did you find that? Do you just pick up everything you see?"
"Not really, but as it turns out, emergency situations apparently give me some magpie-like tendencies. I found it in the Penguin Room while I was getting our water from a vending machine. I figured the bottled water would be safe from infection because it was sealed. I ended up finding it half hanging off the edge of the vending machine after I got the water."
"What do you think you are you going to do up there anyway?"
"Look, trying to get past those things without them trying to break through the tank to get to us is not going to happen. I figure there's going to be some machinery or something to monitor the sharks when there aren't highly aggressive mutants in there. There might even be some tranquilizers for when the veterinarians need to treat the normal sharks. I figure that electrocution or maybe an overdose of tranquilizers will put them down for good. Hell, if I can drain the tank from up there, we can get through here that way. Any way we can stop them from flooding the area and then eating us is a good idea. Look, you got more of that explosion on the docks than I did. Don't lie; I can see how you're holding yourself like you're in pain. Why don't you wait down here and catch your breath while I get these overgrown tuna take care of, okay?"
Albert put his hands together to give me a boost up to unlock the trapdoor, only giving me support until I had gotten my grip. I hooked my hands on the top of the doorframe and I swung my legs up to cling to the top of the doorframe. I looked like an oddly colored, soot covered, blood spattered, sloth. As I fiddled with the lock and key with my left hand, I kept a tight grip on the handle of the trapdoor. The trapdoor swung open and a short ladder about three feet long dropped down. I grabbed the second to last rung of the ladder and started to pull myself up the ladder. I was running on adrenaline, and I was weighed down by my backpack but I didn't go to West Africa to cover a war zone with a noodle-armed, wimp body. I had put myself through a rigorous workout leading up to that assignment, and the fact that I had survived without any major injuries proved that it had been a sound decision. When I had gotten back from West Africa, I hadn't stopped working on keeping my body as close to my peak physical fitness as I could, mainly because I never knew when something might happen. I pulled myself up quickly, rung by rung until I pulled my feet through the trapdoor.
"Yell if you need anything," I called down to Albert. "I'll try to get this done as quickly as possible so we can get the hell out of here."
The trapdoor had just as I had hoped, led into an area devoted to the care and maintenance of the original denizens of the tank below my feet. At the far end of the tank, I could see a tranquilizer gun hanging on the wall and various pieces of machinery were lit up with electricity. There was a cloying smell of rotten meat due to the open cooler full of fish that had been left here for who knows how long. The floor beneath my feet was made of industrial grade steel, which cut off about three feet on front of me. The rest of the room was water until you hit the other side of the tank where there was another sturdy metal floor. The only connection between the two sides of the room was an unstable looking catwalk, hanging from the ceiling about a foot above the water level thanks to cables attached to the ceiling. The catwalk had no rails or fences to keep people from falling in by accident. It was basically a long swinging metal plank that I did not trust to support my weight.
No way in hell is this place OSHA approved. That stupid jeweled crest lock system and the serious lack of safety railing is insane. Did the people who built and maintained this place have a grudge against safety, sanity, and common sense?
I gently eased myself onto the catwalk and had a small heart attack when the soft creak from me adding my weight echoed through the room. I stepped lightly and steadily across the catwalk making sure not to make any sudden moves. Even though my heart was pounding in my ears I took my time, hoping that I didn't make any more noise.
I was trying and failing to keep both sharks where I could see them. The less I lost sight of them, the less of a chance the sharks had of getting the drop on me. I could see the dorsal fin of one of the sharks on the other side of the tank. Due to the quality of the lighting, I had lost track of the other one swimming around in the deep. I grabbed onto one of the cables keeping the catwalk held aloft to help me keep my balance as I made my way across this rickety metal deathtrap.
Where the hell is the other shark?
All of a sudden, the catwalk lurched to one side with a clang, and it was all I could do to hold onto the cable and keep my feet on the catwalk. The damn shark that I had lost track of had rammed the bottom of the catwalk to try and knock me into the water.
Now I know the poor bastard at the bottom of the tank came face to face with his maker. With a splish, splash, crunch, gurgle, and a snap.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm wishing a slow, painful death on anyone who had a hand in building this place, but I'm fine. One of the damn sharks almost got me but I'm going to kill both of them if it's the last damn thing I do. Trust me Albert, when I say that if I'm three things; I'm fast, determined, and above all else, lucky."
Damn straight. Who else but me, would stumble across fragmentation grenades in a back alley?
I kept both of the mutant sharks in my line of sight as I made my way across the rest of the catwalk. I saw a fin duck out of sight and dashed to the next cable, gripping it with both hands and wrapping a leg around the taut wire cord. Before I could get my other leg secured, the catwalk jerkily swung upwards and came down with a hard rattle.
The massive great white shark then heaved its head onto the side of the catwalk, trying to snap its jaws onto my leg and yank me under the water. I swung my free leg back, and snap kicked it in the gills when I had a clear shot. It slid off of the catwalk and sunk back into the water of the tank.
I finally made it to the wonderful solid metal floor of the opposite side. I was heavily breathing, and I wanted to die. I asked myself if this whole nightmare was really worth it.
Yes, yes it is. Now go kick obscenely large amounts of undead shark tail and get out of here.
The tranquilizer gun was hanging on the wall and easily accessible. Unfortunately, it was unloaded and the rounds for the gun were nowhere to be found.
The tranquilizer rounds for the gun were probably in the medical supply cabinet. The supply cabinet was at the right end of the floor I was on past a work desk, which to be perfectly honest was ridiculous. How the heck could they get the various pieces of furniture across the tank, even in regular conditions? They would have to drain the tank every time they got some new piece of equipment or a cabinet or something or other.
I had carefully walked across the floor to the supply cabinet, when an undead crawled from underneath the desk behind me. It had no legs and was only supported its arms. I used the cabinet door to temporarily stun it and knock it backwards onto its back. I firmly planted my foot on the thing's chest to keep it from struggling or getting back up.
The cabinet had several jars of tranquilizer fluid but I couldn't see any rounds for the gun anywhere. There was also a handy little reference sheet on what to dosage to give the normal sharks. I ignored it other than to take into account what kind of dosage the biggest of the normal sharks got and mentally tripling the amount. The dosage that amounted to was just a hair short of a full jar. I used my knife to poke a few holes in the top of the jar. Looking down at the undead pinned underneath my size ten sneaker, I began to put my plan together.
The undead's gaping mouth made a nice cranny to put the large canister of tranquilizer liquid and the jar made a nice gag. The jar was small enough to cram in the undead's mouth with a nice amount of force but too large for the undead to work out by itself. I could see the fin of one of the sharks heading straight for me so I hoisted up the undead by the back of its shirt. When the shark was close enough, I threw the struggling corpse into the wide-open jaws of the leviathan-esque menace.
I really hope I don't go to hell for doing that.
The shark that now had a belly full of dead guy and enough tranquilizers to kill several sharks swan around for a while, and started to slowly calm down. It made sense that the drugs would take a while to kick in and it would probably be a while before the "Neptune" overdosed.
Forget that. We are not calling it a name taken from the roman god of the sea. That would be giving it too much credit. It's just a couple of giant mutant undead sharks that have been trying to kill you from the very moment you walked in here.
All of a sudden, I noticed that I had lost track of the other shark and it shot out of the water at the catwalk. It clamped down on the side of the swaying platform and shook its head like an angry dog trying to rip a rope toy out of its owner's hands. The cables holding the catwalk attached to the ceiling began to snap from the strain from the weight of the shark. The shark finally gave up trying to pull the whole thing down, but by that time, the end of the catwalk closest to me was half submerged and much more unstable than it had been when I first climbed up the trapdoor. There was no way I would be able to walk back across it to the other side.
It was personal now. The thing had just stranded me on the bad side of the tank. I certainly didn't think it deserved any mercy after that little stunt. There was a computer on top of the desk on the left side of the supply cabinet.
The screen was on the screensaver; I moved the mouse around looking for any information on how to drop the water level in the tank. I ended up stumbling across the remote drainage protocols. I clicked the button to start draining the tank and started to (badly) sing a song that was completely inappropriate in celebration.
They do not call me Canary because I can sing.
i belted out about half of Mack the Knife while i got down to business.
While I was singing, I went off and found a nice machine that I didn't know the purpose of, with a very long power cord and pushed it towards the edge where the floor dropped off into the shark tank. The water was now at the half full point and the drugged shark was almost motionless. The shark that had stranded me was running out of water to maneuver around in and it knew it. It was thrashing around like a toddler having a tantrum; only the toddlers I have seen cannot usually eat a man in one gulp.
Drugged to the gills, hee hee! I slay me.
The machine was heavy, bulky, and would probably hurt if it were dropped on somebody or something. In other words, it was the perfect "toaster" for this oversized bathtub. The shark that wasn't drugged to its gills was speedily making its way back towards me and was probably going to try and leap up at me. In fact, I was hoping it would.
When the shark had had leapt up me to try and take a bite out me, I kicked the machine into its face, knocking it straight back down into the drink. As soon as the duo of machine and shark hit the water, there was an explosion of sparks and arcing electricity. The serious threat of Albert or me getting eaten by sharks
Ooohh, the competitor executed a perfect leap into the air, but has tragically failed to stick the dismount. Ladies and gentleman, I think he's going to have to settle for the bronze.
I needed to get back across to the other side. Swimming was not a viable option in the first place due to the growing lack of water and what water that was in the tank was still electrified. The catwalk was still out because of the shark's displeasure with my ability to cross the room made its mark. The way the catwalk was hanging, it would be impossible for me to make the jump without sliding off and possibly crippling myself for what would be my very short life. I looked around and I saw a long pipe hanging parallel to the catwalk.
That could work. My spirit animal must be a sloth or a monkey because this kind of situation keeps happening to me. Okay, super sloth powers activate!
I used the desk as a boost up to grab the pipe and use the leverage to get my feet up and hooked over the pipe, but not before making sure to pocket a disk I found that said NEPTUNE DEVELOPMENT & RESEARCH. I mean there was no way I was leaving without proof that somebody cough-Umbrella-cough, was working on bio-organic weapons.
Actually, scratch that. Bio and organic mean the same damn thing, having them both in a phase makes it redundant. From now on, I'm calling them bioweapons. That makes much more sense.
While I was having my mental rant about grammatical redundancy, I was making my way along the pipe upside down like a sloth, keeping my weight evenly distributed like a sloth, and not giving much of a damn like a sloth.
Okay, I really need to quit thinking about sloths.
I needed to make sure that the pipe didn't get dislodged from the wall because if I put all my weight in one place, the pipe could become unstable and fall.
When I tilted my head back to see how far I was getting I saw Albert staring at me through the glass in disbelief. I finally made it to the other side and let my legs drop first to make sure I wasn't going to fall on my head and crack it open like a watermelon at a Gallagher show; and also to make sure I didn't fall into the empty fish tank that had dead, mutant sharks in it. I fell from the pipe with a three-point landing. Sure I would never qualify for the Olympics but I was still alive and no longer stranded on the other end of the tank.
I climbed down the trapdoor ladder and dropped down the rest of the way when I ran out of ladder rungs. I straightened up from the crouch I had landed in and grinned at Albert who was perched on top of one of the giant bronze octopus statue's giant tentacles.
"Are you okay? There weren't any undead while I was gone were there?"
"Everything was fine. I do have to say I'm impressed with how well you did up there."
"Meh, I worked with what I had available. You ready to go?"
"Of course, after you dear heart."
"Ugh, do you really need to call me that?"
We made our way through the glass tunnel, without having to be afraid of killer undead sharks or imminent flooding. I still kept my gun at the ready though. After all, just because the sharks were gone didn't mean that all the undead were. I mean, it would be embarrassing if I had taken down those undead sharks while keeping my cool, only for me to immediately get eaten by one of the undead that had been human.
The tank had been fully drained of water by now and I could now see what I hadn't been able to find on the damp sand of the tank's bottom. Flattening my arms and face against the glass, I could see the box of reusable tranquilizer rounds lying innocently on its side, against a statue of either Poseidon or Neptune sitting and holding a trident. In the statue's lap there was what looked like the bloody, half-eaten leg of a human being.
No wonder I couldn't find the cartridges for the gun. Well, at least now I know why my improvised shark bait didn't have a leg to stand on. I'm guessing the shark got his legs and couldn't be bothered to eat both.
I got off of the wall and moved on through the glass tunnel. We really couldn't afford to lose any more time than we already had. The end of the tunnel through the shark tank led into the Amazon River exhibit. The door that would let us into the maintenance area for the service exit was located between the Arapaima and Piranha tanks. I didn't have the key to this door and I tried the other two keys, but they wouldn't work. I pulled out a grenade from my backpack and motioned for Albert to come join me behind the Electric Eel tank for cover. I was really starting to feel better than I had earlier, mainly because of the fact that I had survived so far and the fact that I would have four more grenades left after I used this one. Albert made a motion like he was rolling his eyes, and just went and shot the lock off.
But-but-but, I wanted to blow the door up. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
We carefully walked inside the maintenance area. The place was abandoned and the only noise that could be heard was the muffled moaning coming from the security guard station. Screens showing live camera feeds from all over the Aquarium were positioned all along the walls of the small square room and what the screen closest to me showed made my blood run cold.
All around the outside of the service entrance was a large crowd of undead, comprised of about ten shuffling and moaning corpses between us and our ticket out of here. The metal sheet that separated the crowd from Albert and me seemed like it was paper thin to me. The distance from the
I took the time to count the undead in the area. If I was going to do the stupid idea that had just popped into my head, I was going to need to know how many dead people I would need to kill. I began to explain my plan to Albert and hammer out the details.
The descended service entrance door was on a platform at a height that made it easier for delivery trucks to unload. The truck drivers would just back up their trucks to the platform; and workers could just push the crates and other cargo straight into the aquarium. The only way to comfortably get up or down from the platform was a short metal ladder built into the concrete.
The van was a big white metal box with the aquarium's logo splashed onto its sides. It looked almost brand new, but I could see a few dents and scratches in the bumper and the paint. It was probably just maintained very well. It would be really disappointing if the engine ended up quitting on us while we were driving it. It was located about ten feet away from the exit but it could have been a mile for the dangerous mob standing in our way. The undead were docile now for the most part, but if we went out there they would go straight for us.
The van had an undead in the driver's seat sticking its head out of the open car window, trying to bite something, anything that came within reach. I could guess how it had become infected; thanks to the prominent bite mark on its face. She had probably tried to get away and take shelter in the van. The window had probably still been rolled down then and she would have been bitten before she could roll it up to protect herself.
Meanwhile, I was waiting for Albert to punch the button that would raise the door, ready to sprint into action. He was had some reservations about the plan but I was the one putting herself in the most danger. I needed Albert to cover me with gunfire while I made a break for the van to start the engine. He was a better shot with his magnum than I was with my handgun, and I was still running off of my adrenaline high from the shark tank. We shared a look, nodded to each other in silent understanding of each other, and Albert pushed the button.
Immediately, I rolled a primed grenade through the rising door and into the mass of undead below me to clear a path through the mass of bodies. Jumping down from the platform into the dust and debris, I held Mr. Smashy at the ready while I bobbed and weaved through the crowd of living dead to the van, occasionally smacking undead out of my way when needed. The roar of the pouring rain was loud, but I could hear the moans and growls of the decaying bodies trying to grasp at me and the loud gunshot taking out an undead that had gotten way too close for my comfort. The freezing downpour had made the pavement slick and made my clothes stick to me like a second skin, but I charged on forward.
I quickly made my way to the driver's side of the van, throwing open the door, neatly dodging the newly freed undead's attempt to grab my shoulders. I brought the crowbar down hard on the back of its skull, stunning it and kicking it out of my way.
I whipped out the car keys that I had shoved into my shirt for easy access, slid into the seat of the van, and immediately slid them into the ignition and revved the engine. More shots rang out in the air and more of the undead around me fell to the ground, lifeless. I slammed the door closed pulled the stick shift out of park and swung the van over to the platform as close as I could and still be able to open the door. I opened the driver's side door and hastily dove into the passenger side seat. Wesker dropped down from the almost three foot high platform and got into the driver's seat.
He threw the van into second gear, drove straight through the remaining undead, and out of the parking lot.
I let out a breath of relief; we were in a van and off of our feet for the time being which was great because my legs were aching. The thought of time brought the reason I had come to Morris' Point in the first place.
The research lab I had sought out for the sheer purpose of breaking into it and finding incriminating evidence in, was on the other side of the island. The research lab was relatively isolated, save for the nature boat rides and the amusement park relatively nearby. However, that part of the island was only accessible by the road that lined the east coast of the island.
How am I going to convince him to go to the part of the island furthest from the mainland?
"I think we should head to the other side of the island, away from the town," stated Albert with an air of certainty.
This could work.
"Then we should go the tourist area. There's a nature tour there that's conducted on boats, we could use one to get off this rock."
"It's a plan, do you mind navigating?"
I rummaged around in my backpack and pulled out my map of the town.
"No, Albert," I said. "I don't mind. Not at all."
Having reached an agreement amidst the pouring rain and booming thunder, the two of us drove off into the dark of the night.
AN: Reviews help me write and help me kick my bad sy-fy channel monster movie habit. If a part of the story confuses you or doesn't make sense, write a review about it so I know what to fix. They also let me know that you like the story, so please review if you like it.
This chapter was made under the influence of the following: really good cupcakes, the movies Sharktopus, Swamp Volcano, Copperhead, Ragin' Cajun Redneck Gators, and Swamp Devil (I am not kidding about the monster movie addiction), the Aqua Ring from the Resident Evil Remake, and a laser pointer and some cats.
For those who don't know, Day of the Triffids is an old movie about mobile plants that eat people and Martin Brody is the sheriff of Amity Island in the movie Jaws.