“Thanks, Captain Chapelle. No need to puff me up in front of the fellas, though. I’m sure we’re all here for the same reason. To win the war.” He gestured up at the ship that now loomed above them, dripping vines like a vast green waterfall. “It’s been kind of a secret, I guess. Mr. Ellis tried to keep it one for a while. I don’t know how many of you have heard, but this old ship, out here in the middle of this crummy place, might just help us win the whole damn war.”
The steam barge pulled the others as close alongside the ship as possible. Gilbert could tell there was no way they could board on the side closest to the shore as they’d done previously, and he said so. The jungle had already taken a hold on the ship to a remarkable degree when he’d last seen it, but he was amazed by how much worse it was now.
“The Marines will go first,” Chapelle said to Lieutenant Bekiaa-Sab-At on the next barge. Bekiaa was originally from Big Sal ’s forewing clan and was yet another one of Chack’s many cousins. She was brindled like her relatives and had trained under Risa. She wasn’t as
… freespirited… as Risa, but she’d seen action at the Baalkpan docks at the height of that terrible battle.
“Be careful,” Gilbert warned. “There was some sort of Marine-eatin’ booger in the aft hold.” He gestured up at the tangled mess. “No tellin’ what’s moved in since.”
“Charlie Company!” Bekiaa called to the Marines on the second and third barges. “Prepare to grapple!” She waited briefly while the thirtyodd ’Cats that had accompanied them from the ship prepared. “Execute!” Heavy treble hooklike implements arced upward, trailing stout lines, and disappeared into the foliage. Raucous, indignant cries filled the air as flocks of lizard birds exploded from the mass and swirled above them, along with a cloud of flying insects. Most of the hooks caught something when they were pulled taut, and after heaving the barges closer, the Marines scampered up the lines. Many had to hack their way through and over the bulwark to the deck, but when a sufficient number had managed the feat and there’d been no cry of alarm, Bekiaa grabbed a dangling rope and scurried up after her troops.
Chapelle grinned at Ben Mallory. “Now we just wait a little while for them to check things out. It won’t be long before you can kiss your prizes!”
Something big jostled the barge from below, spilling the men and’Cats to the deck.
“Whoa there!” chirped Isak, grabbing for the bulwark. The barge tilted and creaked as whatever it was slowly scraped along its bottom. All the men had Springfields and a couple of the ’Cats had Krags. All went for them at once, snatching them up or unslinging them from their shoulders.
“Goddamn!” bellowed Laney. “It’s one o’ them pleezy-sores!”
The barge righted and something cruised away from it, rough, pebbly back, streaming water. There were big swirls alongside like it had very large flippers, or maybe feet like an alligator. An extremely long tail slithered through the water behind it, probably providing most of the propulsion.
“What is that thing?” Mallory asked. Already, seven rifles and a pistol were aimed at it. Moe, the Lemurian Hunter, had his massive crossbow leveled at the beast. “It’s too damn big to be a croc… Isn’t it?”
“Hold your fire!” Chapelle ordered. “We might just piss it off. Maybe it’ll leave us alone.”
“Nothin’ ever leaves us alone,” Gilbert predicted darkly.
“It come back!” Moe exclaimed.
“What is happening?” Bekiaa shouted from above.
“There’s some big beastie down here, Lieutenant!” Chapelle replied. “You stay right where you are!”
The creature described a long, leisurely arc, settling on a heading that would bring it back to the barge. It didn’t accelerate or anything, so maybe it was just curious. Of course, they could see only a small fraction of its mass and they already knew it was big enough to overturn the barge. Its curiosity might kill them. ’Cats on the other barges had clustered near the middle, clinging to the heavy machinery, tool crates, and supplies. The few Marines who’d remained behind aimed muskets at the thing as it approached. It slowed.
“Ugly devil,” Laney said.
The head was fairly clear now and it didn’t look like a croc. It was huge, about four feet wide and maybe seven feet long, but it was broader and more rounded and there were no grotesque, interlocking teeth. The eyes, while mounted like a croc’s, were even larger in proportion to its body and possessed an almost mesmerizing, alluring quality. If Courtney Bradford had been there, he would have been fascinated, but he also would have told them that the shape of the head was cause for greater concern than any crocodile.
“I think he’s kinda cute,” Mallory said.
With an erupting spray of water, something pink, shiny, and rather bulbous darted from the creature’s suddenly gaping mouth and slammed into Sammy, knocking him back against the hot, exposed boiler. Just as quickly, the ’Cat was jerked toward the bulwark. He hadn’t even had a chance to cry out. For an instant, everyone was too stunned to react-everyone but Moe. The powerful old Lemurian dropped his crossbow and clamped onto Sammy’s legs. The blur of motion slowed just enough for the others to see what was happening. Sammy was still sliding toward the open mouth, with Moe along for the ride, but now realization had dawned.
“Shoot it!” Russ yelled. Seven rifles cracked almost together and Ben’s pistol barked quickly, filling the sudden silence while the others worked their bolts. Muskets roared from the other barges and heavy lead balls slapped into the monster’s body while the riflemen fired another volley into the thing’s head. Both its eyes were reduced to spattered, gelatinous orbs, and white bone glared around a ragged, bloody gash between them. It started to convulse.
“Grab Moe!” Russ shouted, and Isak and Gilbert dove on the ’Cat. The creature in the water jerked backward and began to flop and roll. Sammy shrieked in agony as the massive “tongue” was torn away, leaving his entire arm and shoulder naked of fur. The terrible beast continued to flail with wild, mindless abandon, sometimes lunging almost entirely out of the water and drenching the barges when it splashed back down. Once, its whipping tail nearly swept the Marines in the second barge over the side, but eventually the convulsions ebbed. Finally, the mighty lake monster floated still, the brackish water around it turning black with blood under the afternoon overcast.
Bekiaa’s corpsman had crossed from the adjacent barge and was tending Sammy’s wound. A lot of skin had come off with the fur.
“You okay, Moe?” Gilbert asked.
“Swell,” the nearly toothless ’Cat replied, using the term he’d heard Silva use so often. It sounded strange coming from him.
“Well, you done good,” Gilbert said. “You know, I bet that was the booger that got Chack’s Marine in the aft hold of the ship! Chackie said he was there one second, standin’ on some ammo crates to stay outta the water and then”-he snapped his fingers-“pop! He was gone.”
“Stands to reason,” Chapelle replied. “If it wasn’t the same one, it was probably something like it. That thing was damn big, though. I hate to think there’s a hole in the ship big enough for it to come and go.”
“Maybe it growed some since then,” Isak said hopefully.
“There not be many monsters like that, big as that, ’round here,” Moe said judiciously. “Be like too many super lizards in one place. I bet they no agree so well. We git off boats quick now, though. Bloody water, big food, other things come soon, I bet too.”