Hell Rig (28 page)

“We have to get out of this,” he shouted.

She nodded. The fear had not left her eyes.

He struggled to his feet and pulled her up. They changed directions and stumbled toward the main building, the wind propelling them forward. Once around its corner, the wind diminished a little. Jeff dragged her to his side and collapsed in the lee of the building.

“We’ll never find them in this,” he said. His chest heaved with exertion. The air was so thick with moisture, he felt as if he were breathing water.

“What if they’re hurt?” Lisa asked.

He saw exhaustion is Lisa’s eyes but knew she did not want to give up. To lose one more companion would be more than she could bear. Jeff was more concerned they might be dead. He did not bother to tell her about his nightmare. She had enough to worry about.

“We have to try,” she insisted.

Against his better judgment, he agreed. “We’ll start downstairs, out of the rain.” He took her hand and once more they challenged the storm’s fury. The stairwell was treacherous and they descended slowly, one step at a time. They were out of the rain but the wind still whipped their clothing and threw an assortment of small objects at them. Jeff took the lead and the brunt of the pelting.

They found a body near the door to the metal shop.

“Jeff!” Lisa exclaimed as she saw the shriveled, blackened corpse lying between two stacks of pipe. She turned away from the ghastly sight.

Jeff could not look away, mesmerized by the horrific scene as flashes of lightning revealed grotesque details of the body. It looked as if it had been dipped in black acid. The flesh was gone, leaving a blackened shell covering the skeleton. Jeff remembered Waters’ black fire and knew this person had suffered a similar fate. Was it Ed? If so, Jeff’s nightmare had not been a warning but a mocking vision.

“Is it Ed or Sims,” Lisa asked, sobbing.

Jeff shook his head. “I don’t know. Sims is taller, but how can I tell with this…” He shook his head again. The corpse was so shriveled he could not determine its original size.

“The watch,” Lisa burst out. “It has a metal band.”

On the left wrist of the corpse, the remains of a watch were barely distinguishable from burnt flesh. Ed’s watch had a metal band. Sims’s was leather.

“It’s Ed.” He almost choked on the words.

“Why did he come down here?” Lisa asked.

Jeff did not hear her. He continued to stare at Ed’s corpse, looking into Ed’s empty eyes, lost in morbid thoughts bordering on insanity. Such things did not happen, not in a sane world. There was no evil other than that created by man. Evil, a thinking breathing creature did not exist. There was no God, no devil, no…

“Jeff!” Lisa yelled over the fury of the wind, shaking his arm vigorously.

He jumped, the hypnotic spell broken. He ran a hand over his face and turned to her. “Thanks.”

She attempted a smile but it fell short. “Do we move him?”

“The power is off. We’ll have to move the other bodies in the storage room.” He looked down at Ed. “His too.”

Jeff looked around the metal shop and found a moldy wet tarp. They struggled to lay the tarp on the deck beside Ed’s body. The wind threatened to lift Lisa off the deck as she held on to one side. Using a wooden pole, they gently rolled Ed’s body onto the tarp and folded it over him. Lisa could not pick up one end of the load, as light as it was, so they dragged Ed’s body back up the stairs to the pantry.

Sims met them at the rear door. “What’s that?” he asked of the tarp-covered bundle.

Jeff glared at him. “What’s left of Ed’s body? Where were you? We were looking for you.”

“Here. I was looking for matches for the gas burner.” He held up an empty matchbox. I’m out.”

“We looked for you,” Jeff challenged.

Sims stood his ground. “You didn’t look here then, did you, ‘cause this is where I’ve been.”

Jeff did not reply. He felt chagrined that he had not searched the building before they had gone after Ed. Still, he was not going to let Sims off so easy.

“Ed went outside and Waters killed him. Why didn’t you stop him? Why didn’t you help him?”

Sims put his fists on his hips. “Look, I’m not taking a third degree from you. I woke up and wanted some coffee. I needed matches. I didn’t see Ed so I thought he was either back here or up front. He didn’t tell me he was going outside. I didn’t think he was stupid enough to go out there alone.”

Jeff took a step forward intending to punch Sims for insulting Ed. Lisa placed her hand on his arm, restraining him.

“It’s not his fault,” she said quietly.

Jeff swore and backed off. “Help me with Ed’s body.”

Sims picked up one end of the light bundle. As Lisa held open the pantry door, they carried Ed’s body inside.

“I hope he makes it through this,” Jeff stated. “I don’t want his body lost at sea. Let’s move the others in here.”

Fearing the worst, Jeff opened the cooler door. Thankfully, the power had not been off long and the well-insulated room retained its low temperature. A nauseating odor lingered, but it was to be expected and was not the foul stench of decaying flesh. It took almost half an hour to move the bodies and seal the pantry door, first removing any foodstuffs they might need. Lisa, Jeff noticed, stood across the room while they worked.

“Should we say a few words?” Lisa asked.

Jeff leaned against the pantry door, his forehead touching the wood. “We don’t have time. I think they would understand.”

He reached into his pocket, pulled out his lighter and tossed it to Sims. “Here.” He walked away, leaving Sims standing by the door.

They found Tolson awake and sitting on his cot. He looked tired but remarkably well after his terrible fever.

“I wondered where you guys went,” he said when they entered. “I was just about to get up and make some coffee.” Seeing the expression on Jeff’s face, he asked. “What’s wrong?” He looked at each of them in turn. “Where’s Ed?”

Jeff shook his head. “Ed didn’t make it. We just put his body in the pantry and moved the others there as well.”

Tolson clenched the fist of his left hand. “Waters! I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch.”

Jeff knew how he felt but cut Tolson’s tirade short. “We don’t have time now. We have to secure the cooler like Ed wanted. Maybe, just maybe, we can ride this one out.”

“I don’t want to lock myself in the damn cooler with that bastard running around outside. He ain’t stopping until we’re all dead.”

“We can’t afford to look for him. We don’t have time. The storm’s right on top of us.”

Tolson ignored Jeff’s plea.

“You three go ahead if you want. I’m gonna either kill that bastard or he’s gonna kill me. Then I’m taking the emergency raft and getting the hell away from here. Either way, I’m not letting Waters off this platform alive.”

Jeff knew about Tolson’s determination. Sometimes he bordered on being stubborn. “You can hardly move around out there. The wind’s too rough.”

Tolson ignored him. He stood, removed his arm from the sling and flexed his hand several times experimentally. He smiled when he noticed there was no pain.

“I need a weapon,” Tolson said.

Jeff wasn’t sure anything would work on Waters, or whatever he had become. “We’ve got Ed’s Glock.”

Tolson smiled. “I’ll fill the bastard full of lead and toss him over the side.”

“We have to stay together,” Jeff cautioned. “Waters has changed. He can come out of nowhere.” He hesitated. “I don’t know if bullets will stop him.”

Tolson stared at him. “I can kill anything,” he boasted. “I want to see that bastard’s eyes when I shoot him.” He looked at Jeff and cocked his head to one side. “So, you’re coming with me?”

He smiled. “I can’t let you go out there alone.”

“What about Sims?”

Jeff gave it only a second’s thought. “Let him stay here. I don’t trust him.”

“Yeah, me neither. Let’s kill Waters. Then you can ride out this damn storm while I float home.”

Jeff knew it wasn’t going to be as simple as that but they had no choice. “Let’s go,” he said.

“Wait,” Lisa said. She looked at Jeff. “Do you have the
gris-gris
?”

Jeff pulled it out of his pocket.

“Sprinkle some of the contents on the bullets.”

“What is this, voodoo?” Tolson asked, clearly skeptical.

She smiled. “Humor me. Pretend it’s holy water and you’re going after a vampire. Maybe he is, in a way.”

“Okay.”

Jeff opened the small cloth bag and examined the contents. Tolson removed the clip from the Glock and handed it to him. Jeff sprinkled a small amount of powder down into the clip and shook it.

“I hope it doesn’t cause it to jam,” Tolson said as he slammed the clip back in. He hefted the Glock and smiled.

Jeff knew how Tolson felt. There was something comforting in the weight of a weapon in your hand when facing danger, even if the weapon was inadequate. It was kind of like in the B-grade monster movies where the machine guns prove useless against the monster but everyone hangs on to them throughout the entire movie anyway. The logical thing would have been to drop them so they could run faster.

Jeff saw Lisa putting on her coat. “What are you doing?”

“I’m coming, too.”

“No, you’re not. Stay here.”

“No way. I’m not staying here. I’m coming with you two.”

Jeff shrugged. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of her alone with Sims anyway. “Okay.”

As before, the rain was a weapon against them. It was a whip wielded by a sadist, flaying their exposed flesh. The wind growled like a beast and blew so hard it forced them to walk bent so low they could see only their feet in front of them. Carefully piled garbage pelted them as the wind ripped it off the platform. Jeff felt like a hapless umpire at a ball game after a bad call.

“We’ll never find him like this,” Jeff yelled, barely audible over the din of the storm. He led them to the warehouse. Inside, sheltered from the worst of the storm, they could talk. “Let’s check the other buildings first,” he suggested.

They scoured the warehouse before they left its shelter but saw no sign of him.

“He can’t be out in this,” Tolson said.

“I don’t know,” Lisa replied. “If he’s really Damballah Wedo, he would relish the storm, be part of it.”

Tolson looked at her. “Damballah…what-o?”

She shook her head. “Never mind. Let’s just say he isn’t the Waters you remember. He’s stronger, more dangerous.”

Tolson held up the pistol. “Stronger than this?”

They went back into the storm. They checked the radio shack and the generator room, now ominously silent. Descending the stairs to the cellar deck, Jeff lost his footing when a sudden gust caught him off guard. He slid down the stairs on his back, grabbing frantically at the rails for support with his free hand as both legs slipped through the railings. For a moment he hung suspended above the Gulf by one hand. Tolson grabbed his wrist and pulled. Vicious winds from below punished him as he struggled to stand. Water blew up the stairwell like a chimney flue, almost drowning him.

“Thanks,” he yelled at Tolson. “Both of you stay here,” he warned them, coughing to clear his lungs of seawater. “It’s too dangerous. I’ll check it out.”

He managed to climb down the remainder of the stairs, nursing a sore left leg and numerous bruises. The wind was less intensive behind the steel bulkhead of the mudroom, but near the edges of the platform, he was exposed to its full wrath. Water cascaded over the rails and poured over the deck in great rivers. Loose debris washed around the deck, making footing treacherous.

A sound startled him. He turned to see Lisa and Tolson approaching behind him.

“I thought I told you to wait,” he said, slightly upset.

Lisa stared at him. “We’re not leaving you alone.”

Jeff nodded. Maybe she was being more sensible than him. “Okay, let’s check it out. The landing deck is completely underwater. Unless Waters can breathe water, there’s no need to go down there. We’ll check the central hallway.”

They waded through the frigid knee-deep water of the wood shop and entered the long hallway, also flooded. Jeff checked the storerooms, watching the shadows stir like sleeping creatures as his flashlight swept over them.

“No sign of him,” he told them.

Loud splashes echoed down the hallway. He shined his flashlight and saw dozens of ripples in the water. Small brown dots floated in their centers.

“Rats!” Lisa screamed. “Where did they come from?”

Jeff looked around. Where had the rats come from? The rats had them cut off from the wood shop doorway and he didn’t want to lock himself in one of the storerooms. He spotted a fire extinguisher hanging from a hook and grabbed it.

“Stay behind me,” he yelled. He hoped the extinguisher worked. The cylinder was rusty. They had not yet gotten around to replacing all the fire extinguishers on the platform. Pulling the pin, he used the foam like a scythe, cutting a path through the rats, forcing them to one side of the narrow hallway away from them.