Page 72 of Hunters and Prey

Chapter 7

One Week Later

“Fuck yes!” Matteo roared as he squeezed the triggers and lit into the gelatinous mass of the Gloombeast pursuing Newsome across the ocean floor. Elpis sat beside him with her hands hovering over the steering column, ready to take control of the vessel from him if needed. She always did during a high-speed chase, in the event that his reflexes failed them.

She could endure a crash. He couldn’t. For the moment, their safety remained her responsibility. He understood her logic.

Still,she would not be needed; he had this. Whether Newsome piloted a U.S. submarine, a fighter jet, or a coral glider, the man was a beast to be envied. He’d attracted the creature’s interest and was leading it on a chase while the rest of them pounded it with precise shots from their forward guns. The aberration couldn’t catch its prey as Captain Newsome rolled through the water and put on a burst of speed.

Elpis sucked air between her teeth. Newsome had impressed even her. Nice.

Banks and Malcolm moved into formation, flanking Matteo.

“I have a clear shot,” Banks said. “Please advise.”

“Take the shot,” Matteo ordered.

Coral gliders launched charged harpoon bolts, a combination of energy wrapped around suspended particles of adamantine and organic matter. They could fire for hours before running out of ammunition and only required a minimal amount of time to recharge. Banks launched a salvo ofharpoons, each slicing through the water and spearing the creature on a perfect angle, pinning it to the ocean floor. It writhed, then a dangerous combination of blue Gloombeast blood and ink clouded the water around it.

“Nicely done,” Elpis said. “Your man is an excellent pilot and a great shot.”

“He is.”

“You aren’t so bad yourself. That scylla didn’t stand a chance against you.”

“I’ve spent a lot of time on submarines before I was picked up by MIRAGE and promoted to commanding officer over their GHOST program seven years ago. Served with Newsome before that, on my last assignment. No matter how hard I trained or how many hours I put in underwater or in the simulators, I could never outperform that guy. That’s why I chose him for the team when Cartwright told me to collect twenty-four of the toughest men I could find.”

Elpis chuckled. “He could give my friend Manu some competition. He’s the best pilot I’ve ever met among my kind.”

Earlier that morning, a report had come through the Myrmidon communication channels about a Gloombeast sighting three hours south of Cyrene near a farmer’s pasture. After Elpis told him where they were going, it tickled him every time he imagined lines of mers tending algae fields for their beasts to graze.

Traveling south offered the perfect opportunity for their training, though, no matter how ludicrous it sounded. Their six gliders had made good time during the patrol, but when they arrived, little more than carnage had remained. The passing monsters had long ago slaughtered the herbivorous creatures that belonged in the kelp pasture. It took another hour to discover a splinter of a horde, as El called it. Not the real deal, but a division of it split from the main wave to avoid detection.

It might have worked if not for an observant farmer among his flock of peaceful hippocampi. As his animals were slaughtered, he fled to a panic room carved into the sea floor and called the discovery in to the authorities.Mers like him didn’t have the benefit of a protective glass shell protecting their homes like the Atlantians living in the larger cities and outposts.

“I believe our work here is done, gentlemen,” Elpis said into the comm link. “Spread out and patrol for signs of any stragglers, then we’ll head in. You worked well today.”

They found no strays, though it took another hour of their time to guarantee it was safe for the farmer to emerge. Three gliders broke off from the squad and escorted the traumatized mer to a neighbor’s land.

“How long will it take him to rebuild?”

“Not long,” she said. “Some of his livestock will have escaped, and over the next few days, as the ocean carries away the stink of Gloombeast, they’ll return home. Once he declares the loss,he’ll receive a stipend from Cyrene, and his neighbors will each donate a couple of their best animals to the cause.”

“They look after one another then?”

She nodded. “They must. For our farmers, life beyond the city is a life of struggle, and what happened today could have been any of them. May be one of them next time. The Gloom requires a large amount of food to sustain their ever-growing numbers.”

“Which means they hit food sources.”

“Yes. Our farmers are brave. As brave as we Myrmidons. Without them, we could never sustain Atlantis’s growing population.”

Matteo shook his head. He tried to imagine a zombie outbreak on the surface swarming rural farms, mowing through pastures of cows and overtaking chicken coops. Then again, all they’d truly have to do to cripple America would be to attack every Walmart and grocery store. An overwhelming number of Americans didn’t know how to grow or produce their own crops. They also lacked the land to do it. “That’s awful.”

“It’s Atlantian life.”

“And now you’ll have us to help. I can’t say our four squads will be enough to push back much of the Gloom, but we won’t let it spread over dry land as well. We’ll protect our own borders.”

“It may not seem like much to you, but your help is appreciated.”

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