#3: Currents Turn Awry
CLANG --
“Bollocks.”
CLANG --
“Maybe hit it harder.”
CLANG --
“Stand back, let me try.”
CLANG --
“Something tells me --"
CLANG --
“Ow!”
“Oh for --”
KABOOM --
The hatch flew open and upwards, all the way off its hinges, ending its journey embedded in the ceiling. Adriana followed, merry band of misfits in her wake.
Slick managed to fall upwards through it, Cage possibly in mild amazement of such a thing (no face to be seen, so maybe he was rolling his eyes). Clapperclaw had been grumbling for almost the entire time – even for a small (ish) crab like him, the cavernous wreck echoed every last one of his complaints. Better than hearing the helmet alarms about depleting oxygen.
She held out a hand, reaching for something to lean against – her vision blurred, drifting in and out of focus, bad enough in a dark wreck…
“You, uh…” Something irritating and garish was somewhere in her vision – probably Slick. Thankfully, he chose to not finish his sentence.
As she took short, shallow breaths to grasp some sustenance from the cruel depths, Cage took two steps forward – and promptly fell through the floor.
Clapperclaw scuttled over to the edge, eyes on stalks peering over. “Need a hand?” From the next floor down came a soft, injured “…Yeah.”
“Well, I don’t have one.” He promptly scuttled off, looking for another exit. Slick looked for anything long and ladder-like, doing about as well as Adriana expected him to do. Another big breath, and she threw herself halfway down the hole, hand outstretched. Slick shrieked, running to grab her legs – and surprisingly, nailed it. “Grab my hand!” Cage didn’t have to be told twice, reaching out immediately. “Now what?” Adriana knew her brain patterns were buggered due to the lack of air, but…yeah, she hadn’t thought this far ahead.
“Uh…” CLANG --
Clapperclaw wrapped a chain around Slick’s legs, and heaved – he was strong, so through the combined efforts of all…Cage actually ended up being able to climb back up.
Adriana collapsed, one foot in the hole and one in the grave.
Slick picked up the chain – “Why didn’t we use this to pull him up?” “Now we know we can work as a team.” Clapperclaw clacked smugly.
Cage helped Adriana back to her feet. “Come on, you’re not dying until you’ve helped us haul all this gold outta here.” Meanwhile, Slick was through a doorway shining a torch upwards. “Ah…shit.”
“What now?” Clapperclaw scuttled over --
“We have…” He counted…“A lot of stairs to go, and between the two of us, none of those levels above look safe.” Clapperclaw’s eyes narrowed, which was an interesting sight considering they were on stalks.
“My legs are too short for that.” He buggered off to a far wall. “How about here? Kick it open, across the trench floor, it’ll be a whole lot more fun than ascending a hundred flights of stairs.”
Cage poked his head through – “I think you’ll find it’s the same distance upwards outside as it is inside – unless you’re keen on climbing up the trench wall.”
Slick stroked his chin, giving the illusion of thinking. “Won’t we just float to the surface?” Clapperclaw’s hearty laughter echoed around even louder than his complaints. “Sure, just as long as you’re fine with getting the bends, possibly eaten by any possible predators along the way, and any other manner of deaths to defy between here and St. Elmo’s fire. Besides, you know what everyone says – we don’t want to go anywhere near the surface anyway.” He growled, scuttling away to look for weak spots in the wall. “But if we climb the trench wall, staying in the dark, we might make it back to The Seaweed Saloon.”
Cage perked up – “I saw a sub parked outside.” Slick was pacing now. “Probably Adriana’s…I mean, at this point, maybe, just maybe…we can hitch a ride?”
Clapperclaw and Cage didn’t exactly have normal faces. Clapperclaw was a crab, and Cage only had a blank helmet with a crude drawing scrawled over it – but even a blind person could see the disbelief in their eyes. Cage cocked his head, pacing slowly. “Mate…we’re all here in the hope that some form of teamwork – which I do appreciate after falling through the floor – but once we’re out, we’re done.”
Meanwhile, Clapperclaw was pensively clacking his claw, like drumming fingers. “Or if it’s not hers, we could just steal it.”
Silence for a moment…
“Or that.”
“We probably shouldn’t.” Dead stares – “But I’m open to any offers!”
Last to join the conversation was Adriana, stumbling forth --
WHAMMMM – she kicked the wall so hard the ocean came furiously flooding in. “I’m dead, you’re an idiot, you’re irritating, and you’re an arsehole. Let’s get the fuck outta here.”
When something was underwater, it would float to the surface. That was the presumption – and also the single thought rattling around Adriana’s head as she found herself very much not floating upwards, but instead stuck in a strange limbo clambering up the wall of a trench.
There were too many words in that thought, she didn’t have the oxygen for that.
Hand, foot, ledge, drift, foot, ledge, hand, foot, ledge, drift, hand…
Slick slipped, again. Despite himself, he always managed to latch onto the next ledge down and start back from there. Cage’s eyes, wherever they were, were definitely not in the right place – for he wasn’t doing much better either. Even Clapperclaw, the only amphibious member of this motley crew, was struggling. Crabs were meant for going sideways, not upwards.
None of them knew why – the world was broken, they knew it, it had been for some time. Who knew what had changed down below in the past 10,000 years? The depths were vast, and contained endless secrets.
One particular secret was about to make itself known. It prowled in the darkness, sizing up the four of them – slowly, surely, deciding which would make the best, first taste.
Muscles flexed as they went into overdrive, a tail propelling a torpedo with teeth through the water…
Back on the wall, Adriana took another deep breath, holding onto what she could – she looked around to see how much further…and promptly let out all her oxygen as she gasped --
The Razor Rorqual slammed into the wall right beside her – its teeth nicked her suit, but otherwise she got away just in time --
The killing machine ripped its bleeding snout from the trench wall, and snapped at Slick – he balled up, forcing himself into a crevice --
Adriana knew she had a small harpoon gun on her somewhere – if only was able to remember where…
Cage’s hand snapped into his trenchcoat, effortlessly pulling out his gun while still hanging onto the wall – a few shots deterred the beast, but a creature like this liked a good fight. It wanted to struggle for its prey. Made it all the more succulent. The sweet taste of triumph.
Its tail propelling it forward at full speed, it lunged again --
SNIKT – a lucky harpoon shot from Adriana nicked it right in the jaw. Blood wafted into the water as it thrashed around, angrier and angrier --
Clapperclaw scuttled over to Slick’s hiding spot, little legs a blur. “That worked, do it again!”
“You wanna go get it back, be my guest!” The rorqual growled, daring them. Adriana frantically looked upwards, for any possible salvation --
“There!” A small cave a few metres up – very small, but good enough. Clapperclaw was already halfway up before she’d finished speaking, Cage was initially heading in the wrong direction, and Slick was being dragged up by Adriana – she practically threw him inside.
The rorqual growled again, a long, low sound. It paced, slowly – deliberate. The evident intelligence was the scariest part.
Cage’s hands were shaking. “How close is your sub?” Adriana didn’t have the oxygen to answer – a limp gesture upwards implied “not far, but up”.
Slick took a deep breath. “Someone’s gotta go. No use all of us going out and all dying at once.” They exchanged uncomfortable looks, any possible bonds made now up for question. “Who’s the sneakiest?” Slick posited, hoping they wouldn’t say him.
Cage pondered an idea. “What about…”
Clapperclaw couldn’t believe it. Clambering clandestinely through the smallest crevices in the trench wall, in the hopes that he’d be able to commandeer a submarine designed for those with hands, not pincers. But he wanted to get the hell out of here and back to Freeport, so clamber he did.
The rorqual may have missed him – or maybe, it knew he was escaping, and was waiting for the right moment. He banished such a thought from his mind – he was a crab, his skeleton was on the outside, the tough exterior was who he was.
Up, up, up he went, not daring to look down…
A disturbance in the water – he didn’t need to look down, he scurried forth like a crab possessed --
He practically fell onto the ledge in his haste – tumbling forth, drifting through the seaweed…
His exoskeleton gave out a sharp CLANG – was he hitting the gates of heaven?
No, just the leg of a beaten-up, inconsequential, faded yellow submarine. Even by his usual standards, Clapperclaw still thought it would take a miracle for them to pull this off.
“User-friendly, intuitive, ergonomic – Poseidon’s salty bollocks, you think they really had crabs in mind?” He grumbled his way up the leg, opening the hatch, and climbing inside. The complaining helped keep his mind on other things. “Unbelievable, the shit these people think they can put out, what they get away with, and then the…” The hatch sealed his complaints off from the rest of the trench.
The inside of a barrel would’ve been more comfortable – a helm seat up the front, then a few upturned crates and ramshackle flat surfaces would have to do for the others. Clapperclaw knew he wasn’t sitting in anyone’s lap, that was for certain. At least there were some spare oxygen canisters available – not that he cared, of course. She could sort herself out. Yeah, of course.
A few strategic smacks on the console with his claw eventually got the thing rumbling – then a stranger, higher sound seeped in. Mechanical, but it didn’t sound like anything in the sub. Grumbling away to his heart’s content, the cheerful crustacean slinked back to the hatch, back outside, along the hull, and down to the propeller shafts…
Eyes wide – “Ya got a problem, gills?!”
The rorqual wasn’t deterred – it sniffed at the crevice to remind them it was still there. Adriana was lying on her side now, somewhat surprised she wasn’t dead yet. The others had tried to help her, but it was no use. If they gave any oxygen, they’d end up as badly as her – she sure as shit wasn’t going down to Davy Jones’ Locker with someone else’s idiocy on her hands.
Slick wasn’t a religious man, but what few gods he knew were hearing his words. As for Cage, no one could tell what was going on under or in there.
Only an hour or two (or three? She couldn’t tell) ago, Adriana was keeled over the bar at The Seaweed Saloon, unable to care to remember why she’d crashed there. And it was all for New Year’s, too. What a way to start the year, what a way to end an empty life.
The rorqual was growing impatient – but these were notoriously stubborn creatures. It swam away, slowly…then began arcing back, tail sending it forth at full power, heading right for them --
THWAKK – something smacked into the creature at full speed, drawing blood and snapping bones on impact --
The broken rorqual howled, spoiling for a fight – only to be greeted with an odd, bronze, mechanical sight. It was a shark – a simple, recognisable, outline – but clearly built, handmade, forged. A robot, perhaps? The shark bared its teeth…and spoke – a soft, low, but forceful tone. “Stay back, foul beast!” With a roar, the rorqual lunged – and the fight was back on.
The trapped trio looked on with great bewilderment – until the fight was obscured by Clapperclaw bringing the sub over. Cage got the hatch open, and Slick helped heave Adriana’s limp body inside.
Before the hatch had shut and before the sub had drained, Adriana was already reaching feebly with her last breath to reach the oxygen canisters on the wall…
She scrabbed at one, not strong enough to pull it off and down…Slick yanked it off with all his might, Cage ripping the old one from her suit, and Clapperclaw attaching it. She took the biggest breath of her life and then several more, vitality refilling her so much she thought she might explode.
Clapperclaw tightened the canister, while the water was still draining. It was an old sub, it would take a few minutes to be fully dry and empty. “Cool, you’re alive – you still have the treasure?”
Something smacked into the front glass visor – all jumped --
The rorqual was missing half its scales, but was holding on – it leapt off the visor it had been thrown against, screeching a battle cry and surging forwards --
The bronze shark spun and slapped it with his tail so hard the beast went snout-first into the silt. Another growl – SNIKT. A tail to the chest – sharpened fins, good for stabbing. The bronze shark withdrew its tail, leaving the rorqual to fade quietly.
“Is he with you?” Cage inquired, in something like awe. Clapperclaw fiddled with his claw, perhaps nervous? “I don’t know, he was hiding when I got here. Told him he could hitch a ride if he dealt with the rorqual.”
Adriana limped over to the visor – “What the hell is he?” Slick poked a head over – “Maybe we should ask him.”
Three quiet, polite knocks against the hatch – the water was almost done draining out.
“You first.”
TO BE CONTINUED…