Fang did the same, and we kept ourselves aloft high above the ocean, watching as big chunks of monster bobbed to the surface. The sub that had launched the torpedo was too far away to see.
I could barely hear anything and felt like someone had hammered an ice pick through my eardrums. It hurt so much that tears came to my eyes—even swallowing hurt.
Less than a quarter mile away, the boat was cranking its engines. Fang and I flew over to it and landed on the deck. We were both covered with scrapes and bruises, I'd swallowed a bunch of water, and my head was spinning from the pain in my ears. All in all, I felt like crap, though maybe not as bad as Dr. Akana, who had been fished out of the water and was now strapped to a body board.
Panting, I leaned against the side of the boat and looked at Fang.
"So the navy stepped up after all," I said, my voice sounding muffled and far away to me. "Humans actually saved us. In a messy, stupid way, but still."
This was a new concept, and it took us a moment to digest it. But we had a much more important question: what the heck were those things, and where had they come from?
67
WELCOME BACK," said Captain Perry. He was—I swear—trying not to smirk at me.
I snarled as I went past him, took a deep breath, and started down the submarine's ladder.
Yes. Back on a submarine. A much smaller sub but again one of the navy's and again commanded by Captain Joshua Perry.
Turned out only one of my eardrums was busted. It would heal pretty quickly, but in the meantime I was staggering around like a deaf, drunk monkey.
Dr. Akana had a broken arm and collarbone, and bruises covered almost half her body. She'd been airlifted back to the marine research station. John Abate was also beat up and bruised but was still wi
th us, determined to see this thing through to the end, determined to save my mom. I was starting to wonder if maybe he had feelings for her, I mean, more than just a friend and co-worker.
There was a lot of that going around.
We'd spent the night at the marine research station, going over everything we had learned so far, which could be summed up in like two sentences: (1) these things were ginormously gol dang big, and (2) we had no idea what the heck they were.
I'd managed to get most of my lecture in with Angel, but my words slid right off her like rain off a road slick. I was going to ask Fang to try talking to her.
Gazzy, Iggy, and Nudge had all tried to see if they had gills, out in the warm, clear water of the bay. That's another body of water you'll never catch me swimming in again. Turns out none of them were turning fishy yet.
Total had elected to stay at the research station with Akila. He hated subs—no one's blaming him there—and hated water and had no gills and needed some catch-up time with his lady friend, as he put it. He was still wrestling with the whole marriage question.
The submarine crew was no doubt used to top-secret missions where they just did as ordered without asking questions—another thing the military seemed big on—but, all the same, when they saw that their new passengers were six kids and two scientists, their eyes got a little bigger.
Now, hours later, we all huddled over a lit map-table in a small room in the midsection of the sub. This sub was so small that it held only about thirty people and actually had a few thick windows. It was still armed with torpedoes, though, which made me feel better.
"The monster attacks occurred here, here, and here," said Captain Perry, showing us red dots on the maps. "All within a twenty-mile radius. Today we're going to cruise this area, crisscrossing it until we see something."
"I still think these creatures were caused by radiation poisoning," said Brigid. "We definitely get high radiation levels around here, but it's been mysteriously difficult to pinpoint."
"Could I go outside and just hang on to one of the sub's fins?" Angel asked. "Then I could really see stuff."
"No," Captain Perry, John, and I all said at the same time.
Angel frowned.
"The ones I saw up close had wounds all over their skin," I said. "They were like building-sized pickles, except their pickley skin was all messed up, raw and bleeding and oozing. It was horrible."
"Did you pick up on anything from them, Angel?" Brigid asked. "The first time, you felt their rage and their desire to kill. Did you get anything different yesterday?"
"Uh-huh," said Angel. "They were still mad and wanted to kill us, but they're also in pain. And they're smart. They can communicate with each other and make plans, work together to attack us in a group. They're kind of neat—more understandable than whales or dolphins."
"Uh, what?" John said.
"Whales are great and all, but everything about them is really slow," Angel said matter-of-factly. "They take forever to get a thought across. And dolphins—well, they're kind of flighty. They just want to have fun. It's hard to get them to focus on anything. Unless you're constantly flinging fish at them. They're big into rewards."