Apocrypha Sequence: Inferno Read online

  The sky darkened as the monstrous tentacle plummeted.

  He wasn't going to make it.

  Bill dived for the water as the monstrosity slammed its weight into the jetty. The timbers were shattered to pulp.

  The tentacle slowly withdrew.

  Bill surfaced in the shallows, concealed by the floating debris, in time to see Dana escape the jetty and lead the family beyond the carpark. To his horror, the tentacle lashed at them a final time. It missed but flattened a beachside gazebo instead. As the tentacle reeled back into the water, Dana and the others disappeared beyond the line of foreshore houses.

  Drained of energy and adrenalin, Bill dragged himself ashore and picked his way through the shattered remains of the jetty. The incessant Esperance wind froze him through his wet clothes. He shivered and hugged himself to keep the worst of the chill at bay. Bill's world had been reduced to rubble and brine and struggling to stay warm. He huddled in the sand amid the driftwood.

  The carnage was widespread. The jetty was no more than a few snapped pylons. Yachts were capsized—a flotilla of broken butterflies floating face down in the bay.

  Along the port, shipping containers were upended and strewn about like discarded Lego blocks. The tanker still bobbed as though it were a rubber duck, with smoke rising from its bowels.

  The port itself was completely wrecked. One of the factory-sized sheds was reduced to rubble. Another bore a huge hole in its roof and billowed with thick black smoke. Cranes were snapped—one had fallen into the bay while another pinned a berthed tugboat to the dock.

  The marina also bore the beast's brunt. Many of the moored boats were now half-submerged, including the big island cruiser. Its aft section was rammed up onto the concrete pier, while its nose was wedged underwater. The picturesque tea house, bustling with people only minutes before, was now a pile of rubble.

  The tentacles withdrew into the ocean as Bill watched. It took several surreal minutes for them to disappear from view altogether, leaving only the huge distended eyes hovering above the bay on their stalks. Soon they, too, withdrew, dipping down below the water, but not entirely out of view. Where the Bay of Isles was alive with slithering tentacles moments before, only the plated crest of one eye remained.

  "It's not going to leave just yet," Dana called from behind him.

  Bill shot her a weary smile, too tired and drenched to throw his arms around her. "Why do you say that?"

  "It hasn't fed."

  #

  "The sun's coming up," Bill gently prodded Dana. He stood by the window, scanning the horizon for any signs of danger.

  Through the twilight, search lights swept their beams across the water—a sign the military had established their presence.

  "What's the time?" Dana stifled a yawn and rose from the bed.

  "Just after six."

  "Any sign of it?" she asked.

  Bill didn't have to ask what 'it' was, but the casualness of the remark disturbed him. In other situations, he might have laughed but not this one. "No, but the army has been raising hell for most of the night."

  "We'd better go check out the situation," Dana leered like a shark.

  As she made her way to the bathroom with sleep-addled steps, Bill couldn't help but admire her awkward beauty. The previous twenty-four hours had been tense, with the gigantic squid creature submerged off the coast after its initial attack. Laying up in Bill's motel room, the pair had kept vigil on the bay while sharing their pasts and thoughts on the creature.

  Once Dana was done, Bill grabbed his coat and keys and led her out onto the esplanade. Camouflage-clad soldiers were setting up guns and equipment where joggers had greeted the sun only the day before. The dawn wind whipped at the soldier's clothes, adding a degree of difficulty to their tasks.

  With no lights on and most of the cars gone, it was clear that very few of the residents were still in town.

  "Excuse me," Bill said as he and Dana approached a pair of men erecting a tripod-mounted machine-gun.

  "Who are you?" challenged the younger of the men, whirling from his task. "You shouldn't be here."

  "Bill Markham, with the West Australian," he replied, flashing his media ID card. "This is Dana Sorenstrom, from the West Australian Aquarium. We need to speak with the officer in charge."

  "You still shouldn't be here," said the soldier.

  "The Brigadier is down there." The other soldier pointed down the street.

  "Thanks." Bill was already striding away.

  A few minutes later, they arrived at the army's operations centre, passing several knots of soldiers along the way. A heavy tarpaulin marquee was set up in the carpark of the local Centrelink office. Streams of soldiers passed in and out of the main building. Bill and Dana joined the procession and slipped inside.

  The reception desk was decked out with telescopic viewing equipment. The other desks had been cleared and were piled with military computers and communications gear. A group of soldiers stood in the centre of a brightly-lit room at the rear of the open-plan office, around a table with maps laid across it.

  "Can I help you?" An imposing soldier stepped in their path, shifting his Steyr-Aug rifle for emphasis.

  "Yeah, we've come to sign up for the dole," said Bill.

  "Bill. You're not helping." Dana jabbed him with an elbow.

  "Seriously, I'm a journalist. We need to speak with the Brigadier. We have information about the creature."

  "Wait right here. I'll check." Before leaving, the soldier nodded to two other men who shuffled closer. They also held their assault-rifles at the ready.

  A minute later, the hefty soldier emerged from the back room and motioned for them to come forward.

  Bill stepped through the doorway first and met the grey eyes of the man at the furthest end of the room. His confident air, service pins, and characteristic brim-up hat gave Bill the impression this man was in charge.

  "Good morning. I've been told you know something about the enemy," the Brigadier said.

  "Yes."

  "Well, before you waste my time. Who are you?"

  "Bill Markham, a journalist with the West Australian."

  Dane stepped forward. "And I'm Dr Dana Sorenstrom, deputy head of marine research at the Western Australian Aquarium. Whale specialist." From her tone, Bill knew she would take no further pomposity from this man.

  "And you are?" Bill added, just to stir the pot.

  The man scowled. "Brigadier Marcus Stannard. This is my operation. Now what do you have for me?"

  "First of all, Brigadier Stannard, do you know the scope of what you're dealing with?" asked Dana.

  "A giant sea monster. Yes, yes, I've heard all the hoo-haa. Let me assure you, I have four hundred men mobilised along the shoreline, with dozens of machine-gun and AW50 anti-material gun placements. I have three 105 millimetre howitzers already in position and six heavily armed ASLAV assault vehicles. As we speak, mortar placements are being established along the foreshore and at the lookout on the head. Six Leopard tanks are on their way, as well as two Collins-class submarines and air support from Perth. I have the situation well in hand."

  "Is that all?" Dana asked with absolute sincerity.

  "Look, Brigadier, this thing is enormous. It must be kilometres long. Kilometres!" Bill waved his hands for emphasis.

  "That's ridiculous. How can something be that big?"

  "I think it took down the HMAS Victoria. I don't buy some bogus story about the ship hitting an iceberg. If the Victoria couldn't stop it, a few men and pop guns won't do the trick!"

  "Brigadier." Dana re-focused the conversation. "Have you ever heard the legend of the Kraken?"

  "No."

  "The Kraken was said to be a monstrous giant squid. One that roamed the northern oceans, capsizing ships and eating their crews. Historians put these tales down to exaggerated sightings of regular giant or colossal squid. However, the Bishop of Bergin, in Norway, wrote in 1752 that the Kraken was a floating island, more than a mile and a half l
ong."

  "If that's true, then the good Bishop saw a baby," added Bill. "This thing is gigantic."

  "I don't need camp fire stories," Stannard said. "I need hard data on this thing. What are its strengths and weaknesses?"

  "It appears to be a squid or a cuttlefish," answered Dana, "with around eight arms or lesser tentacles and two greater tentacles. These are hundreds of metres long and can easily reach onto land. The strange thing is its eyes. They're on stalks. That isn't typical for a squid."

  "Well, what is typical for a squid? Strengths and weaknesses, specifically," the Brigadier's eyes narrowed.

  "Well, they normally have cylindrical shells that protect their bodies. They swim by jet propulsion, you know, squirting water. The related Cephalopod family have well-developed brains and circulatory systems; three hearts and all. When in danger, they often have ink-sacs they squirt at enemies."

  "Weaknesses, Dr Sorenstrom?" prodded Stannard.

  "Nothing obvious. They're not great swimmers and their natural enemies are larger predators. The giant squid is hunted by the Sperm Whale, but nothing could come close to threatening something this size ..."

  "Thank you, Doctor. Captain Ross," Stannard turned to a tall officer to his left. "Disseminate this information to the men ASAP and take your position at the lookout."

  "Yes, sir," he snapped a salute and then stepped from the room.

  "Now, as for—" the Brigadier started.

  "Sir!" A soldier barrelled into the room.

  "What is it?"

  "We have movement in the bay!"

  "Places, gentlemen. Instruct the men to fire at my command!" Brigadier Stannard swept from the room. The cluster of officers trailed behind him.

  "Why did you space out there, Dana?" Bill could feel his pulse pounding.

  "I'll tell you later. We need a better view," she said.

  "Right, let's get my car and go up to the lookout."

  #

  "I want that BlackHawk in the air yesterday!" Stannard bellowed at the corporal sitting at the radio.

  "Yes, sir, they're taking off now."

  "Good, and are the mortars set?" He turned to another corporal.

  "Yes, sir. Sergeant Fielder says the wind will make accuracy unpredictable."

  "Bull," scoffed Stannard. "I've hit a teacup at four hundred yards in wind stronger than this." He looked to a slender-built corporal tapping at a laptop. "What's the wind speed now, Grimes?"

  "Fourteen knots blowing East NorEasterly, sir."

  "Good. Tell Fielder to pull his socks up. Fourteen knots isn't so bad."

  "Sir, look!" called one of the lieutenants congregating at the glass doors.

  A huge orb, supported by a flexible stalk, jutted from the water close to the nearest island. Before it, titanic, sinuous tentacles broke the surface and flailed in the air. Soon, the bay was filled with writhing tendrils, each coil more than a kilometre long, whipping the water in a frenzy. Waves crashed from the tentacles as they dipped into the water and emerged again.

  The tip of its shell crested and rose ever higher. In moments, the titan overshadowed the islands, and the bay, and the town itself. Dragging its bulk forward, it scraped its shell over a rocky atoll and fully into Esperance Bay. The displaced water swallowed the beach.

  "Sir, I think the woman was right," muttered an officer. "We need more firepower."

  The living dreadnaught raised its face out of the water, exposing a jagged, beak-like maw. It hissed like ten thousand enraged snakes before plunging forward.

  The tide surged over the shoreline and flooded the town.

  Hundreds of soldiers clung to their positions along the row of pine trees on the esplanade as the water surged around them. Several of the smaller gun emplacements were carried off by the wash or turned about. As the water subsided, many of the soldiers prayed to their gods or whispered messages that would never be heard by loved ones.

  A voice buzzed from the radio. "This is Sergeant Fielder. Permission to fire?"

  "Sir?" the radio man called to Stannard.

  The Brigadier stood transfixed by the mythical creature in the flesh as it loomed over Esperance. "Fire at will."

  The corporal relayed the command into his microphone.

  Gunfire erupted from the esplanade, overshadowing another monstrous hiss. Scores of tracer lines lit up the morning sky, trailing their bright orange spray into the creature's limbs and carapace.

  The writhing giant wasn't slowed by the onslaught. It lunged toward the town.

  Heavier sprays of fire streamed from the eight-wheeled ASLAV assault vehicles as they joined the fray and unloaded their fifty millimetre cannons. More than four hundred soldiers opened fire with machine-guns and Steyr assault rifles.

  More waves slammed over the beach and into the streets beyond every time the creature moved. With each surge, the soldiers huddled along the sodden foreshore parks and trees ceased fire to grab onto whatever anchors they could find to keep themselves from being swept away.

  A handful of mortar-propelled grenades trailed smoke as they arced skyward. They exploded on contact with the Kraken's arms and armoured shell but left only scorch marks or tore away the tiniest chucks of flesh. More plumes of smoke trailed in the wind as mortar shells were launched from the hill overlooking the ruined port. Explosions bloomed across the plating of the creature's oval head.

  They were nothing but pyrotechnics.

  In response, a powerful tentacle crashed across the first few coastal blocks of the town. A burning ASLAV vehicle and several buildings lay demolished in its wake. Another giant tentacle thudded into the town, shaking the ground with its impact. Dozens of soldiers fled.

  Waves of gunfire raked the creature over and over, most bouncing off its tough shell. Thousands of bullets scored themselves into the creature's barbed and rubbery tentacles — all too insignificant to affect it. With every lash of its appendages, fewer and fewer streams of gunfire rose from the town. The earth convulsed with each assault.

  The BlackHawk helicopter was now in the air and buzzing high above the Kraken's head, unloading its autocannon into the creature.

  One of the beast's eyes swivelled to regard the helicopter as it circled its head.

  The remaining ASLAVs and machine-gun placements renewed their attack with vigour, bolstered by blasts from the howitzer cannons. Every blast from the howitzers rattled the Kraken. Mortar shells continued to bombard its carapace.

  Stung by another cannon blast, the Kraken slapped at the town and wiped out one of the howitzer placements. It continued its rampage, crushing whole blocks at a time. It then swept a tentacle across the town, tearing through the line of pine trees and shattering many to pulp. Most of the soldiers were either injured or killed by that one terrible swipe.

  "Where's my air support!" screamed Brigadier Stannard, as he watched the telling blow. The attack narrowly missed the command centre. "Damn it, concentrate on that eye! Get the howitzers repositioned! Now!"

  The soldiers were slow to respond. The BlackHawk was the first to pinpoint an eye. Circling lower, it strafed the plated eye with machine-gun fire. There was no obvious damage on the pitch-black iris, but the eyes flinched and pulled back into the creature's body.

  A further round of mortar shells exploded near both eyes, but with the swirling wind and moving orbs, accuracy was near-impossible.

  The BlackHawk pilot came in low, her gunner strafing the retreating eye again.

  The Kraken heaved its bulk into the air. The helicopter's blades smashed into the creature's armour. An instant later, the BlackHawk exploded and slid off the Kraken's body, crashing into the sea.

  Through sheer luck, its rotors clipped the eye, slicing the iris to pieces. The creature convulsed and pulled back from battering the foreshore. Gelatinous ooze wept from the now-closed eye.

  Both eyes, one open, one closed, bobbed low in the water as the monster drew into itself and retreated behind the archipelago.

  #

  "Faster, w
e've got to get up that hill!" Dana said from the passenger seat.

  With the Kraken's savaging of the coast, Bill was forced to take the back roads. Even so, the way was not clear; a military truck had blockaded the last section of the road, forcing them to abandon Bill's sedan and jog up to the lookout.

  Captain Ross watched the battle with binoculars atop the metal scaffolding of the lookout structure. A few other men stood beside him and called coordinates to the mortar crews. The four teams of soldiers were busy firing and reloading mortar launchers in the carpark immediately below.

  Bill and Dana ascended the lookout tower stairs. No one tried to stop them; all eyes were on the battle.

  "How are we doing, Captain?" asked Bill, a little breathless from the climb.

  "Losing." Captain Ross didn't lower his binoculars.

  The Kraken had returned to the battle, flailing its tentacles across the town. Few of the pine trees that lined the coast were left standing. Only pockets of resistance remained, including a single howitzer. Still, the soldiers fought on, raking the creature with the pittance of ordnance remaining.

  A low boom rose from the western horizon. The roar of jet engines approaching at supersonic speed.

  "Signal the Brigadier. Tell him the air support has arrived," the Captain called to his radio man.

  A tremor rocked the earth—the Kraken smashed at the town again.

  "Sir, I've lost HQ's signal. I can't raise them."

  A massive tentacle withdrew from the spot where the command centre had been only seconds before, leaving a pile of smouldering debris embedded in shattered concrete.

  Captain Ross dropped his head.

  The jet roar intensified as two FA-18 Super Hornets shot past the headland and overflew the monster. They swung around hard, hugged the horizon, and disappeared from view. The dull roar of their engines was the only sign they still lurked in the area.

  The Kraken turned away from the shattered town to face the incoming jets, bringing it in line with the lookout and the people standing atop it.

  Again, the roar intensified as the FA-18s rocketed past, even lower. Their cannons ablaze, they strafed the Kraken, etching lines of black scorch marks across its shell. Too quick for the monster to react, the Super Hornets overshot it before turning for another run.