Dagon Rising(5)
“Are you okay?” Edward asked. “Susan, Wade and I were sitting on the veranda, playing cards and drinking margaritas, when we heard you cry out.”
She nodded. “I’m fine. I just…what can we do?”
“I don’t know. This is entirely out of my realm of experience.”
The surf rushed in, lapping at their feet and ankles. As it slowly receded out again, it deposited a layer of white foam and a school of tiny, flopping fish. Wincing, Jennifer stepped backward, trying to avoid the unfortunate creatures.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” Jennifer repeated. “Why are they doing this, Ed?”
“I don’t know. As I said, it’s not my area of expertise. I’ve never heard of a beaching on this large of a scale. I suppose an earthquake could be the culprit. Or perhaps a predator?”
Jennifer’s stomach fluttered. Before she could respond, Susan Ehart and Wade Collins walked over to them. Both seemed excited.
“There’s a shark over there!” Wade pointed. “It’s just lying there in the surf, snapping at anyone who gets too close. What the hell is this? What’s going on?”
“We don’t know,” Ed told him. “Right now, all we can do is—”
A scream cut him off. All four of them turned towards the ocean. Dr. Phillips and Stine were waist-deep in the surf. Both men were frantically pointing farther out to sea. The group on the beach followed their directions. Jennifer’s stomach fluttered again.
CLICK-CLICK…CLICK-CLICK…
“No.” Jennifer clenched her fists so hard that her fingernails dug into her palms. “Oh no, no, no…”
Rising from the water was a pickup truck-sized Clicker. Seawater streamed off its carapace. A lean-muscled Dark One sat astride the monster, riding it like a beast of burden. The Clicker raised its pincers and clacked them together loud enough to be heard over the roaring waves, distressed marine life, and sudden shrieks of terror from the group assembled on the beach. The Dark One on its back hissed. The lizard-man’s tongue flicked the air.
Wade stumbled backward. “Is that…?”
“Yes,” Jennifer whispered. “It is.”
“Oh, my God.”
Four more Clickers rose up behind the leader. Each of them also bore a Dark One on its back. The lizard-like figures wore armor made of coral and shells, and carried long tridents and other weapons. During the last invasion, Jennifer had seen them wield similar deadly implements. Compared to then, however, these new arrivals seemed almost empty-handed.
This isn’t an invasion force, she realized. They aren’t here for us—or at least, they weren’t originally.
The sea boiled as yet more of the creatures surfaced. There were Clickers with and without riders. The smallest was the size of a cow. The biggest was nearly two-stories tall. One of the latter clutched the carcass of a whale calf in its pincers. More Dark Ones rose up with them, striding ashore with confidence, staring at the humans. Their demeanor seemed surprised, but it quickly turned to contempt.
I was right, Jennifer thought. Judging by their reactions, they weren’t expecting to see us here.
Jennifer could smell the briny stench wafting off the Clickers’ shells and hear their claws tapping together as more emerged from the ocean. Venom dripped from the stingers on the end of their long, segmented tails. The Dark Ones hissed and shouted in their own guttural language. One of them pointed at the humans with a long talon-tipped finger, opened its mouth, and shook with rage.
“Run,” Jennifer urged her friends. “Run like hell!”
Susan, Ed and Wade didn’t move. They stared at the monsters, perhaps too afraid to run. Or maybe too mesmerized.
Phillips scampered backward, but tripped over Stine. Both of them fell over. The waves crashed over them. A Clicker surged forward, towering over them and waving its claws. Then, with one quick movement, it seized Stine with its pincers and began to squeeze. Bones cracked audibly and blood began to well.
“Paul,” the hapless assistant shrieked, his voice rising several octaves, “help me! Oh Christ, it’s got me!”
Ignoring him, Phillips scampered out of the way of the monster’s other claw, narrowly avoiding it. Stine turned red, then purple, and then red again as his captor sliced him in half at the abdomen. His lower torso splashed into the water. The sea foam turned crimson. Stine’s upper half was flung aside. Amazingly, the hapless scientist was still alive and conscious. He wailed as he soared through the air, and was silenced only when he splashed back into the water. Seconds later, his upper torso emerged from the waves again, this time in the grip of yet another Clicker. Stine’s head lolled and his mouth worked silently as the beast cleaved the rest of him in two.