Countdown (24 page)

“The children of Ketos Aithiopos, mother of all sea monsters. The ancient guardians of our shores.” Crossing the deck, Athena extracted metal lances from a wooden bin. She handed the weapons out to the young women she had brought here. “Outswimming them is a worthy test for any aspiring Amazon.”

“No way!” Holly refused a spear of her own. Silly her, she had thought that the bin contained life jackets or something. “Anyone who would jump into that is insane.” “Cowabunga!” Harley shouted as she enthusiastically hurdled over the railing. She hit the water below with an enormous splash.

Holly rolled her eyes. “I rest my case.”

' But Athena wasn’t taking no for an answer. She pressed the spear upon Holly, who became acutely aware that, stuck on a boat hundreds of miles from modem civilization, she didn’t have a whole lot of other options. Holly watched glumly as, one by one, and with varying degrees of apprehension and excitement, the other girls followed Harley overboard, like lemmings voluntarily racing toward their doom.

So much for a mutiny.
Holly grudgingly snatched the spear from Athena’s hand.
Guess somebody’s got to look out for the other newbies.
She glanced back at Athena as she clambered over the rail. “Any last words of encouragement?” The goddess obviously had no intention of getting her own feet wet. “An all-powerful protection blessing would be nice.”

Athena seemed amused by the younger woman’s irreverence. She smiled slyly. “Aim for the eyes, child.” “Whatever.” Holly took a deep breath and jumped feet-first into the foaming water below. After the sunny warmth of the deck, the sudden chill of her immersion came as a jolt to the system. The bronze armor weighed upon her like an anchor, so she hastily stripped down to the thin

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white linen tunic underneath. The discarded metal gear sank to the bottom of tire harbor, but that was the least of Holly’s worries. The authentic Amazon uniform wasn’t worth drowning for.

Athena can take it out of my allowance,
she thought wryly.
Or get her uncle Poseidon to retrieve it for her.

Shedding her sandals as well, she kicked up to the surface, her head breaking above the waves, where she found herself starring in an extremely unnecessary remake of
Jaws 3-D.
Splashing about in the ocean, the other initiates desperately tried to fend off the ravenous predators besieging them. The serpents’ tails whipped the water into a bloody froth, while their voracious maws lunged repeatedly at the would-be Amazons. Holly spared a moment to look for Harley, but failed to locate the Joker’s demented ex amidst the aquatic tumult. Salt water splashed against Holly’s face and lips. She thanked God—or the gods— that Selina had insisted that she learn how to swim....

Who the hell does Athena think I am? Aquagirl?

A reptilian head that made Killer Croc look like Ker-mit the Frog burst from the water only a few waves away. Holly gulped as she stared straight down the bright pink gullet of a monstrous sea serpent. Rows of ivory teeth waited to strip the flesh from her bones. Its fishy breath turned her stomach.

Paddling to stay afloat, she maneuvered the spear into position.
Aim for the eyes,
she recalled urgently, only to discover that the hideous creature didn’t have any eyes, only glistening expanses of scales where its ocular organs should have been. Holly cursed profanely. For a goddess, Athena gave lousy combat advice.

She jabbed at the monster’s snout, but the point of the spear failed to penetrate the serpent’s scaly armor.
Crap!
She dived beneath the waves just as the creature snapped at the empty air her head had occupied only a heartbeat before. Its rough hide scraped against her bare legs, drawing blood, as she frantically swam away from the hungry beast. Holding on to her breath, not to mention the spear, she stroked underwater for as long as she could before surfacing once more. She
thought
she was heading toward the distant island, but in the chaos it was hard to be sure. Blinking the salty water from her eyes, she anxiously scanned the horizon.

An appalling sight greeted her. Only a few yards away, a monster-sized shark chomped down on the mangled body of a headless swimmer. Blood and gore exploded from the shark’s jaws as the mutilated remains of the nameless runaway fed its bottomless appetite. Despite her own peril, Holly cursed Athena’s lethal training methods and “survival of the fittest” ethos. Talk about cutthroat competition!

Cutthroat...

A crazy idea struck Holly. Spear in hand, she swam
toward
the murderous shark.
Forget the eyes,
she decided as she dove toward the creature’s exposed underbelly.
Aim between the scales.
Kicking upward, she drove the spearhead into the shark’s throat with all her strength. Gallons of cold blood spurted from the savage gash, rendering the surrounding waters incarnadine. Reversing course underwater, Holly abandoned the spear and put as much distance as possible between herself and the wounded shark before surfacing to inspect her handiwork. Just as she’d hoped, the other sea monsters had been attracted to the huge outpouring of blood, turning on the injured shark in a cannibalistic feeding frenzy. Sharks and seipents alike snapped greedily at each other, momentarily ignoring the insignificant female morsels bobbing in the sea all around them. The children of Ketos were too busy devouring their own. Snapping jaws and ear-piercing wails added to the din.

“Now!” Holly hollered at the other girls. “While they’re distracted!”

She spotted the island to the south. The safety of dry land called out to her and, not looking back, she paddled toward Themyscira as fast as her weary limbs allowed. The swim seemed to take forever, and every muscle in her body ached by the time she finally staggered out of the sea onto the sandy shore of Paradise Island. Breathing hard, she spit a mouthful of brine onto the beach. Water streamed from her soggy hair. Her chiton was soaked clean through. The bloody scrapes on her legs stung like the devil. All in all, she felt more like a drowned rat than a former Cat-woman.

But we made it,
she thought.
That counts for something.

Lifting her head, she was glad to see several other women dragging themselves onto the shore as well. Some of the stronger gals assisted their weaker sisters. Holly was too exhausted to do a proper head count, but she got the impression that most of her fellow initiates had come through the harrowing ordeal in one piece. She looked around for Harley, but the pigtailed lunatic was nowhere to be seen. A genuine pang of grief caught Holly by surprise.

«
Aw, hell,
Holly thought.
Guess the little nut didn’t make it.

As much as she hated to admit it, she was going to miss ...

“Hey!” a high-pitched voice squealed gleefully. “Who’s up for sushi?” Holly spun around to see Harley come wading out of the surf, holding aloft the speared head of a giant shark. The beast’s meaty tongue dangled out one side of its gaping jaws. “I’m buying!”

Holly smacked her hand against her brow. She didn’t know whether she was happy that Harley was still alive or she wanted to toss the harebrained blonde back into the drink.

Maybe a little bit of both.

Yet her relief that Harley had survived was sullied by the knowledge that not all of the shelter’s former denizens had escaped the island’s flesh-eating guardians. Holly recalled the shark’s anonymous victim and a fresh surge of anger caused her to clench her fists. Goddess or not, Athena had no right to subject vulnerable young women to such blood sports.
There’s something rotten

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going on here,
Holly concluded,
and it’s up to me to get to the bottom of this scam before somebody else gets killed.
A determined look came over her face as she straightened her shoulders and marched up the beach to begin her undercover mission on Paradise Island.
If Athena thinks she can turn me into an obedient little Amazon warrior, she’s not as all-knowing as she thinks she is. She’s in for a big surprise once I get the goods on her.

After all, that was what Catwoman would do.

APOKOLIPS.

The Armagetto was both the home and prison of the “Lowlies,” the planet’s oppressed masses. Some of the slaves had been bom here; others were hostages and pris-' oners of war from throughout the universe, brought to Apokolips to spend the rest of their wretched existences providing brute labor for Darkseid and his favorites. Cruel overslavers enforced their master’s rule, brooking no disobedience—as Jimmy had painfully discovered.

Jimmy trudged through the sooty streets with the other slaves. Their horrific task? Carrying the limp corpses of dead Lowlies to the perpetually blazing Fire Pits, where the anonymous bodies were turned into fuel for the infernos. Knowing that most of the fatalities had dropped dead from pure exhaustion, Jimmy couldn’t help wondering if he was destined for cremation as well. He glanced at the slaves working beside him. They pushed on mindlessly, having lost all hope long ago. Their lifeless eyes never lifted from the pavement.

I’ve got to get out of here,
Jimmy thought,
before I end up like them.

The hot air seared his lungs. His tattered clothing was soaked with sweat. His stomach growled hungrily; the Lowlies were fed barely enough to stay alive. Jimmy guessed that he had lost at least ten pounds during his

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captivity. He wearily hurled another cadaver into the fires, then circled back the way he had come. On Apokolips, there was never any danger of running out of fresh corpses. As ever, he kept his eyes peeled for any sign of Forager, but without success; he hadn’t laid eyes on the missing insect-woman since awakening to this never-ending nightmare. He prayed that she was still alive, and not just because she was his only ticket home.

“Daydreaming again, little fire-hair?” The shocking sting of an electrified lash cracked against Jimmy’s back, eliciting a gasp of pain from his parched lips. An armored overslaver barked at the prisoner, “I’ve warned you before not to let your attention waver!”

Tell me about it,
Jimmy thought, his entire body still quivering from the blow. He was already way too familiar with the jolting effect of the overslaver’s lash. He stag-« gered forward, maintaining his place in the alien chain gang.
This will make a great expose for the
Planet,
assuming I ever make it back to Earth.

“Careful with that one, overslaver,” Captain Vyle, the commander of the guards, admonished his subordinate. His polished jade armor was more elaborate than those of his fellows as he viewed the scene from atop a levitating platform. A sharklike fin crested his helmet. “The Dread One has commanded that he not be killed.”

Come again?
Jimmy thought. “Dread One? You can’t mean—”

^Silence, worm!” Vyle, whose name matched his nature, descended toward Jimmy, brandishing his own lash. “That name is not to be uttered by the likes of you!” Jimmy took that as a yes.
But why would Darkseid want to keep me alive?

“I think this one misses his little bug companion,” the first overslaver said mockingly.

Vyle chuckled at the bizarre notion of someone actually caring for another. “Perhaps, Sergeant Flaay, we can arrange to have it fed to him.”

Their taunts enraged Jimmy. Risking further punishment, he shook his fist at the heartless guards. “What have you done with Forager?”

“I’d curb that tongue, scum.” Vyle stepped off his platform onto the pavement. Reaching down, he grabbed Jimmy by the throat, lifting the scrawny reporter off the ground, Darth Vader-style. Up close and personal with the sadistic commander, Jimmy was shocked to discover that Vyle had an extra mouth where his left eye should have been. Rows of chomping fangs lined the empty socket. “You may be of interest to the Dread One, but that doesn’t entitle you to answers.”

Jimmy stared in horror at the slavering maw beneath Vyle’s brow; the surreal image reminded him of a recurring nightmare he’d had as a child. Not wanting to let his captors know how creeped out he was, he tried to muster a show of resistance, just to prove that they hadn’t com-'pletely broken his spirit yet. “I may not look like much,” he warned them, “but I have abilities. Tremendous powers that I’m not afraid to use against you!”

“Hah!” Sergeant Flaay laughed. “See how it bristles!” “Empty words.” Vyle casually tossed Jimmy aside, so that he landed roughly upon the unyielding pavement. The other Lowlies backed away fearfully, lest they also incur the commander’s wrath. “The Dread One knows all, including the fact that your so-called powers only manifest when your life is in jeopardy.” He sneered with
both
of his mouths. “Fear not. The overslavers of Apokolips are well schooled in the delicate art of torture. You won’t die by our hands, but you may long for death’s release!”

Vyle’s lash snared Jimmy’s feet, yanking him backward so that his skull collided with the pavement. An excruciating jolt of electricity triggered violent convulsions. Jimmy bit down hard on his tongue. The briny taste of his own blood filled his mouth.

“A taste of things to come,” Vyle promised. He withdrew the lash, leaving Jimmy stunned and gasping upon the ground. His ankles burned where the lash had wrapped around his bare flesh. Vyle strode back onto his glider before addressing Flaay. “Bring this slug to me when the others crawl back to their cages. I think he warrants special attention.”

“Yes, sir, Captain Vyle!” The overslaver saluted the departing commander, then dragged Jimmy to his feet and shoved him back into the line of prisoners. “Gonna be a long day for you, maggot! Your suffering has only just begun.” He cracked his whip above Jimmy’s head. “Now, back to work!”

Jimmy flinched at the sharp report of the lash. The worst part was, Vyle was absolutely right. His weirdo powers offered no protection from the tortures in store. Unless...