SEVENTEEN
GRIFFITH WAS FURIOUS, SHAKING WITH ANGER
as the airlock door slammed closed. Didn't they
see, didn't they understand anything but their own
petty, stupid lives?
He stared at the young Steve, the rage spilling out,
threatening to drive him insane, to make him vomit,
to kill...
"Put that gun in your ugly face and pull the trigger,
die, die, just die!"
Steve raised the weapon.
Rebecca screamed, beating her fists helplessly
against the thick metal door.
No no no no no
BOOM!
The thunder of the shot cut her screams off. Steve
fell against the base of the hatch, mercifully out of
sight.
Already dead, he was already dead, it wasn't Steve
anymore...
"Jesus..." David whispered, and Rebecca looked
up, looked straight into Griffith's wildly petulant gaze
through the window and Griffith smiled suddenly,
a beaming, triumphant grin of accomplishment
and malicious spite. The raging loss
and terror she felt were transformed by the
sight of that smile. Rebecca stared into those raving blue
eyes and realized that she'd never truly felt hate before.
Oh you miserable bastard...
He'd told them of his plan, but at that second, the
thought was too big for her to fathom, too vast and
insane a tragedy for her to fit her mind around. All she
could think of was that he'd killed Karen and John,
he'd killed Steve and she wanted nothing more than
to destroy him, to see him lose, to see him suffer and
feel pain and...
...and if we don't do something his madness will be
fully realized and we have to stop it, to stop him from
dancing on the grave of the world.
Griffith moved to a control panel next to the door and
started to press buttons, still smiling. There was a heavy
clanking from the grated floor and water started to
gurgle in, drawn from the icy black waters of the cove
that pressed against the outer hatch. The airlock was
just big enough for her and David not to have to stand
on Karen's bloody, twisted body, and already the water
was turning red, foaming up from an unseen vent and
lapping at their feet, covering Karen's white fingers.
A minute, maybe less...
In the lab, Griffith was leaning against a desk across
from them, arms folded smugly, watching. Behind him,
a backdrop of death - Kinneson, John, and the gleaming
steel cylinders filled with Griffith's evil genius.
We have to do something!
Rebecca turned desperately to David, praying that
he had some brilliant plan and saw only resignation
and sorrow in his eyes as he stared down at Karen's
corpse, his shoulders slumped with defeat.
"David..."
He looked up at her bleakly, hopelessly. "I'm
sorry," he whispered. "All my fault..."
Karen's hands were already floating, tendrils of
short blond hair haloing around her pitiful face.
Rebecca grabbed at the latch of the door uselessly, felt
its unmoving strength, sealed by Griffith's controls.
Cold water seeped through the canvas of her shoes,
over her ankles, the rising smells of salt and darkness
and blood frightening her as badly as David's hopeless
whispering drone.
"If I hadn't been so selfish ... Rebecca, I'm so
sorry, you have to believe that I never meant..."
Terrified, on the edge of hysteria, she grabbed his
shoulders roughly, shouting. "Okay, fine, you're an
asshole, but if Griffith releases that virus, millions of
people are gonna die!"
For a second, she didn't think he'd heard her and
she felt the water rising, inching up her calves, her
heart pounding wildly and then his dark eyes sharpened,
losing their glassy sheen. He looked quickly
around the tight compartment, and she could see his
mind working, see the sharp gaze taking in all of the
details. Steel, watertight hatches; a mesh enclosure
over the outer door, like a thin shark cage, two feet
deep; cold water bubbling, over her knees now, Karen's
arms and head lifting, floating...
"Doors are steel, the window's two inches of
plexi, once the outer hatch pops, there's the cage..."
He looked into her eyes, his own filled with frustrated
anger, with shock and apology and shook his head.
She dropped her hands, her body starting to shiver
from the cold, her thoughts delving into black despair.
David sloshed closer and put his arms around her.
"Just your luck to meet me," he said softly, rubbing
her upper arms as her teeth started to chatter, as the
water swirled up around her hips, as Karen's lifeless
hand brushed her leg...
Luck. Karen.
Rebecca's heart seemed to stop in mid-beat.
David held her tightly, wishing a million things,
knowing that it was too late for any of them. He glanced
into the lab and saw that Griffith was still watching
them, still smiling. He looked away, filled with a useless,
dismal hatred as the icy water slopped against his hips.
Murdering bloody bastard...
Rebecca tensed against his chest suddenly. She
pushed away from him and grabbed at Karen's body,
her fingers searching frantically through the dead woman's
vest. She laughed, a bright, hysterical snap of joy -
- she's gone mad -
- and jerked a dark, round object from one of
Karen's pockets. David saw what it was and felt pure
amazement sweep through him.
"She carried it for luck," Rebecca chattered out
quickly. "It's live."
David took the grenade and held it behind his back,
his thoughts racing again, assessing, the water to his
waist and almost to Rebecca's heaving chest.
- outer door pops, pull the pin and get in the cage,
hold the hatch closed -
They'd probably still die. But if they could pull it
off, they wouldn't go out alone.
Griffith watched the water rise, watched the two
run through a stereotypical melodrama almost
absently - his thoughts had already turned to the
coming dawn, and the problem of getting the heavy
canisters upstairs. He supposed it served him right,
losing his temper that way...
The pair were putting on quite a show. The girl, angry
at the Brit's apathy; the quick, desperate look for a way
out of then- predicament. The final embrace, then the
panic - the girl clutching at the T-Virus drone, the Brit
talking at her, frowning, worried for her sanity even as
the dark water rose over her young bosom.
Sad, so sad. They should never have come, never
have tried to, to get at me...
Now the man was holding her up, pathetically
working to postpone the inevitable as the water spun
up across the glass. Once they were dead, he'd pop the
cage, give the Leviathans a treat before setting them
free again, free to swim in unmanned seas and live out
their days in peace.
Ocean and land as one, his mind murmured dreamily.
Mirrors of simplicity, instinct...
The drone body fluttered lazily past the window,
and he saw that the two invaders had propped themselves
between the hatches, struggling to hold on to
the last bit of air. A determined pair, if thick-headed.
It occurred to him suddenly that he'd never bothered
to find out who they were, who had sent them ...
... and it doesn't matter now, does it?
The lock had filled. The light on the control panel
indicated that the outer door had unlatched. It was
over -
- except they were scrambling to get out, kicking
through into the cage, and something small dropped
past the window as they pushed the door closed
behind them -
Griffith frowned and...
BOOM!
He just had time to register disbelief before the
hatch slammed into his body and the screaming
torrent of liquid ice took his breath away.
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