The last sentence was directed at me. As Larsen had, I nodded, trying to encourage him. If Campbell’s assessment of the wound were right, it was true: there wasn’t much chance of repairing such damage here on the sub, let alone replacing the lost blood.
“MacDonald was lying next to him, a little more toward the doorway. That’s how I saw his feet. He was face-down… I mean, he was on his stomach. I could see his face because his head had been twisted around. Not as bad as Martin,” he said, looking at me again, “but it was pretty obviously broken. His eyes were open, and they were pointing in two different directions.”
“What about the Serpent?” Larsen said after a moment.
“No sign of it. Nothing moving. I didn’t hear anything running away, anything like that. The bunk area-you know where I’m talking about? Across from the crew’s mess? It was all shot up at the aft end.”
“That’s where he was standing.”
I jumped. Vazquez had come up behind me as we listened to Campbell.
“How’s your arm, Seaman?” Larsen asked him.
“It’ll be fine, sir. Just a scratch. Look,” he said, waving his injured limb around and wiggling his fingers. I winced, but he seemed unbothered by the movements. “Put me on point when we go out again to kill that bastard.”
“We’ll see about that,” Larsen said. “Now, Campbell’s told us what he saw. What about you? What happened down there?”
“I was covering Petty Officers MacDonald and Tracy as they passed through the aft battery bay. After they were clear of that compartment, I maintained station, both to provide security and to ensure that the target did not exit the galley area, if it was in there.” Vazquez didn’t seem as consumed by his memories as Campbell had been. He had adopted the tone of an official report, signed and in triplicate. “Approximately ten seconds after entering the galley compartment, MacDonald looks to his right-starboard-and says, ‘What’s that?’
“He did not appear nervous or afraid. Just curious. Both he and Tracy walked to starboard, outside of the area I could view through the open hatch. A few seconds later, Tracy yells, ‘Hey! What the hell?’ roughly simultaneous to a clattering sound, as Campbell mentioned.
“At this point, I was moving forward cautiously, trying to provide backup without giving away my position.”
He stopped and looked at Larsen. But he wasn’t after kind words. Vazquez had the air of a man who knew he had made the right moves and wanted his boss to know it. Without waiting for an audible response, he resumed speaking.
“Sounds of a struggle continued, and then I heard a sort of gurgling noise and a thud. At that point, I charged through the doorway.
“Tracy was on the ground.” He looked at Campbell, reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “You’re absolutely right, man. There’s nothing anyone could have done for him. The asshole had slit Tracy’s throat open with his own combat knife. Tracy was trying to hold his throat with his hands, but it was clear he was losing strength quickly. His chest and the floor around him were covered in blood.
“In front of him, facing toward me, was the Serpent. He… it… was engaged hand-to-hand with MacDonald. There was no way I could get a shot, so I moved in to use my knife.”
“Wait, hold on a second,” Larsen said, gesturing for Vazquez to stop. “You saw the Serpent? It was right there in front of you?”
“Yes, sir. It was about six and a half feet tall. Clearly Asian. It had those slanty eyes and darkish skin. The thing was freakishly big, sir, muscle-wise. Its shirt had ripped, like the Incredible Hulk. We’re talking immense knots of muscle on its arms and chest.”
“So it was wearing clothes?” I asked. “Was it the remains of a Korean naval uniform?”
“I don’t know about that, ma’am. It could have been. Looked like dark pants, maybe, and a similar-colored shirt. But as I said, it was all in tatters.”
“That’s really a pretty secondary point for us to discuss, don’t you think?” Larsen said. “Vazquez, let’s hear the rest of it.”
“Aye-aye, sir. As I said, it was fighting with MacDonald. But the action was pretty one-sided. MacDonald had brought his weapon to bear on the Serpent, but it had, one handed, reached out and wrenched the barrel to the side.”
“Bent it?” Campbell said. “Holy fuck.”
“No, just changed his aim. Pushed it away. At that point, MacDonald fired three times. Not a burst, but singly triggered rounds. Its other hand was on his face, you see, and it was slowly twisting his head to the left. MacDonald’s left. And right after he fired, it just put a little more effort into the twisting and MacDonald’s head snapped all the way around, it seemed like.
“MacDonald dropped, and the thing’s eyes focused on me. The pupils were huge… I couldn’t see any whites. It was like staring into the bottom of an oil well. I lunged at it, planning to strike it with my knife.
“But it just moved so incredibly fast. You have no idea. I got my hand to the hilt, but that’s it. Its hand had almost beaten mine there. And with its left, it swung at me with Tracy’s knife.”
“I thought it had grabbed Mac’s rifle,” Campbell interjected.
“It had… with three fingers. It was still holding onto the knife when it did that, and when it killed Mac, it let go of the rifle barrel. So it attacked me, so fast I didn’t even know it was happening, really, but I guess I had anticipated it, because I had brought my arm up to shield my face. So it cut me, but it’s better than opening my jugular.
“And then-this was probably dumb, but it was instinct — I moved in closer, to try to avoid giving it another chance to swing with the knife. It didn’t fight me, just dropped the knife, grabbed my shoulders and threw me across the room.”
“I saw that,” Campbell said. “Jesus Christ, you were moving fast.”
“No one knows that better than I do,” Vazquez said. “I slammed into the galley’s stove, not head-first, thank God. Saw a few stars. But I could see the Serpent stand there for a second, then take a step toward me.”
“And you opened up,” Larsen said.
“I unloaded on that cocksucker. But… but… you just don’t understand how it moves. It’s so fluid. Fast, like a water snake. I was shooting at it, tracking it with my weapon, but it just accelerated across the room, bounding, ducking, sliding. And then I had burned the whole clip.
“I tried to watch it; it seemed wary for a moment, and I thought that would give me time to reload. But I couldn’t-dammit, sir, I couldn’t get the magazine in without looking. It was because of my fucking arm. All that blood. So I take my eyes off this thing and try to load a new clip. I knew Campbell had to be coming soon, so I yell, ‘Get it! Fucking get it!’ or something to that effect.
“I didn’t even see Campbell come to the doorway… I just looked up and there he was. He starts screaming at me, wanting to know where the Serpent was, but it was gone. It was fucking gone. I had it sir. I had it, and I let it get away.” Vazquez balled his left hand into a fist and whacked himself on the side of the head with it. He no longer seemed childlike. His dark complexion was flushed, veins popping out on his neck.
“Whoa, easy,” Larsen said, grabbing his arm. Vazquez twisted away, staring at the floor. “You did everything you could do. You played it right; this thing is just superhuman.”
“Yeah, I guess,” the SEAL replied. “But I should have nailed it. Less than twenty feet away… full auto… and I didn’t hit anything.”
“But you survived, and your actions probably saved some more lives. Now we know what this thing looks like, what it can do. And that’ll help us kill it.”