Chương 36: Chapter 35 – Company Men

The dead man flopped at Bracken's feet, arms outstretched. He leapt backwards, instinct commanding him to move while his thinking mind floundered. He slipped, the deck soaked. The foam was constant, waves dashing against the ship from all sides, the storm closing in around them like the fist of a god. Bracken fell hard, legs flying out from under him and his back slammed into the wooden boards. Air exploded from his lungs, winding him. The Hollow was upon him before he could regain his feet.

It heaved itself across his legs, dragging itself up his body. Its weight was terrible, cold and oppressive. Horrifically bloated, skin splitting, it ignored Bracken's panicked kicking and yawned wide its silent mouth. Hundreds of needle-sharp teeth spilled past its lips, its mouth like a sea urchin turned inside out. A wave buffeted them, sending them sliding across the deck together. They slammed into the railing, the force jarring.

Bracken gasped at the pain, bruised lungs unseizing, and inhaled a mouthful of water. The corpse righted itself first, clumsy white hands grabbing awkward fistfuls of Bracken's shirt, the fingers barely able to bend. It reared back, mouth opening wide, ready to plunge those needle teeth into Bracken's exposed stomach. He punched it, once, twice, three times in quick succession but his right arm was trapped against the railing, and his left hook was far too weak. The creature lunged and Bracken twisted.

He could not throw it off, so he offered it a hip instead of his belly. Teeth scraped bone as a dozen tiny wounds stabbed through his skin and Bracken screamed. Red stained the creature's wide and rubbery lips, spilling faster as it worked its jaw and Bracken's skin began to tear. Agony, white hot, spasmed down his leg, but fear built a wall around it and forced Bracken not to still. He kicked one leg free, braced a clumsy heel against the beast's shoulder and kicked with all his might.

The creature was shoved free just as another wave swept across the deck, carrying them in the opposite direction. Bracken rolled with the swell, his right arm aching and bruised but free. The sword! He'd forgotten the fucking sword! It was still in its scabbard, tangled in his belt. Spluttering, coughing, water pouring from his nose and half the Stillwake in his lungs, he struggled to his knees. The corpse was righting itself, rolling back onto its belly, one of its legs missing beneath the knee.

It slapped its clammy hands across the deck and dragged itself towards him. All around the deck, a dozen more dead men fought against the crew. Bracken had no time to pay them any mind. Hands all but numb with cold, Bracken nearly dropped the sword as he pulled it from its sheath. The tip fell against the deck, narrowly missing his own leg as he fumbled, trying to right his grip and catch it. The Hollow flopped closer, its own tongue impaled on its needle teeth as it gnashed its horrific maw towards him.

Rearing up, spine bending unnaturally, it reached for him once more, hands outstretched. Bracken screamed and drove the blade into its chest. It scraped along bone, the feel of it vibrating along the blade as it sank up to the hilt. Steel burst from the corpse's back and Bracken strained, arms shaking under the weight of it bearing down upon him. Still, it gnashed at the air scant inches from his face; a cannibal mime, teeth stained red with his blood.

"Maw take you!" Bracken roared, latching onto wild fury born from fear. It was not bravery, but it gave him strength just the same. A wave crashed into his side, and he twisted with it, turning the blade and the skewered Hollow towards the deck. The water carried them towards the far side of the ship, the deck tilting steeply. The blade bit into the wood and the corpse slid backwards down it. Bracken leaned back, struggling to keep his feet, to not go tumbling headfirst over blade and corpse.

The blade came unstuck and scraped along the deck, Bracken and the Hollow thrown madly where it led. He slipped, lost control, and landed on his side. Bracken's fingers ached, his hand a rictus lock around the hilt now pressed painfully against his chest. He spluttered, blinking water from his eyes just in time to see the creature lunge at his throat. Bracken twisted and those awful teeth bit into his shoulder instead.

Rasping, screaming, crying, he pried the fingers of his right hand free from the blade and reached for the Hollow's face. His thumb found the gaping socket of its eye and roaring his horror and his hatred, he pushed, forcing the head back and his thumb deeper. It sank into the skull. At last, it was the dead man's turn to scream. A terrible screeching, the sound of something alien learning hate, learning pain. It wrapped its arms, thick and cold around Bracken and squeezed them closer still.

Its grip was crushing, the hilt of the blade the only thing that kept their chests apart. It dug into Bracken's ribs, threatening to break them if the beast hugged him any tighter.

"Die, you bastard. Fucking die!" He cursed. The words came out ragged and nonsensical, but he screamed them just the same. His arms shook, his wounds burned, his lungs were filled with ice and soaking rags. Still, he fought. Still, he struggled. He drove his thumb deeper into the creature's brain, fingers clawing at the rubbery skin of its face as he did all within his power to hurt the fucking thing. A hammer crashed down, stoving in the back of the Hollow's skull. It's scream guttered, its arms spasmed.

The body stilled, the corpse now just a corpse. Then Passage was above him, kicking the body away and helping Bracken to his feet. His giant friend bled freely from a dozen wounds on his arm, bitten himself but still fighting. Hair stuck to his face and his eyes were alight with fury. The mad bastard bared his teeth, a snarl and a smile both. Passage pinned the body to the deck beneath his boot while Bracken freed the blade.

Another wave splashed over the deck and they caught one another, one hand on the other's arm each, the other on the railing. Bracken looked around. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. All across the deck, the crew waged war against the dead. Hard men, and hard women, all veteran sailors. They fought, and they fought well. But Sael blessed and Sael cursed, and not all were shown the luck god's favour.

Bracken watched in horror as one woman fought against a Hollow, her back pinned against the railing by the stern. Its weight was too great to throw off and while she stabbed it through the belly a dozen times of more, the dead man did not die. A wave crashed against the back of the ship; a second Hollow carried inside it. It slammed against the railing and dug pale fingers into her scalp, hand fisting in her hair. She screamed and was pulled back.

The first creature sank its teeth into her throat, and they both toppled backwards into the black. Beside the mast, another sailor, a man, was pinned down on his back. Two of the creatures were atop him, needle teeth ripping into him while he shuddered, fought, and screamed. Passage barrelled towards him, hammer raised aloft, and Bracken charged after him. Passage brought down the hammer on the first and Bracken swung his blade, clumsily at the second.

The steel was sharp and strong, but an expert swordsman Bracken was not. The deck tilted, the blade went off course, and he sheered an ear and a chunk of cheek off the feasting creature. He stumbled, almost tripping over the thing's bloated body. He caught himself with one foot braced against the Hollow's side and when it turned its blood smeared face towards him, he stabbed it in the head. Steel tore through bone and the creature stilled.

Expecting the pull of the creature's weight this time, Bracken was quick to withdraw the sword before the Hollow could drag it down. Passage crouched to check on the man but if he wasn't already dead, he wasn't far from it. They had savaged his belly and his chest, and there was no time to play medic. Bracken looked about, searching frantically through the clamour and the storm for his friends.

"Bracken!" Sable shouted from above. She was clinging to the rigging, one hand holding a sword out wide. The ropes swayed wildly and she with them, struggling to hang on. A Hollow was tangled in the lowest reaches. All clumsy violence and endless hunger, climbing was not their way. Bracken stumbled towards it, braced one arm against the mast for balance and sank his blade through the back of its skull. Sable climbed down, jumping the last few feet and sank her own blade into the creature's back.

"Where are the others?" Passage shouted. The wind snatched at his words, difficult to hear over the storm.

"The hold!" Bracken shouted back, turning towards where water sloshed into the belly of the ship, the tarp torn free and flapping in the wind. Shouting came from within. Passage was leaping into the dark almost before Bracken finished speaking. Sable grabbed Bracken's arm for balance as they headed after him. She was limping, he realised, not unscathed after all. Red leaked from her ankle where one of the creatures had bitten her as well.

Another great wave swept across the deck, the ship tilting, and Bracken dragged them both down to grab the lip of the hold's open mouth. He scrambled to get his knees back under him the second the water stopped dragging him backwards, pulling Sable after him. They half-crawled, half-slipped down the steps into the hold, splashing to the bottom in ankle deep water. Passage was on his back, one of the creatures pinning his hammer-arm to the floor with its body while he bashed it in the face with his other hand.

Torvin hacked at its back with an axe, one of the creature's arms hanging halfway free at the shoulder, but it was hunched over, denying him an easy swing at its head. Sable got to her feet before Bracken and ran towards the fight, screaming every curse she knew. Bracken charged right after. Sable got there first, blade leading, and stabbed the beast through the neck. It jerked and Passage ripped his arm free.

Bracken tried to reach it but between the cargo stacks and his three friends, that stretch of the hold was crowded. He needn't have worried, the three of them turned, their combined fury raining down on the pallid corpse until it could scarce be called a man. At last, Bracken looked around, lungs still heaving, limbs trembling, and saw no Hollows in sight. Ressa sat at the far end of the hold, clutching her truncheon, a body at her feet.

Bracken nodded to himself, some small part of his terror assuaged to know that all his friends still lived. Afraid, but unwilling to cower in the dark, no matter how his every instinct begged him to, he stumbled back towards the stairs. Passage joined him, the two looking around at the deck to find the fighting had stopped. The storm still raged, but it was a dying fury, its strength spent.

The waves stopped crashing across the deck, now only breaking on the ship's side, and the wind panted like a drunk at the end of a sloppy brawl. Corpses littered the deck, the water around them stained pink. Bracken stumbled up into the open air and vomited. His guts clenched, spilling every drop of fear and hate inside him across the boards. When he thought he was done, his guts heaved and proved him wrong. He fell to his knees, body convulsing, eyes watering long after he was empty.

Passage patted him on the back, standing wordless at his side. Bracken stood and hugged his friend, burying his face in Passage's side to hide his weeping. His cheeks burned with the shame of it, a sneering voice inside his head demanding that he stop. But while his mind had cowered, wordless and still, his body had known horror. His tears flowed and he sobbed until he got the hiccups and his aching stomach bade him sit. The others were arrayed around them, even Ressa who stared woodenly at the carnage.

Bracken had seen violence before, but a brawl was not a battle with the damned. None of them had been prepared for what had just passed. None of them could have been. Feeling fragile and empty, Bracken looked about the deck to count the dead. The closest to them was one of the Hollows. The one-legged man whose skull Passage had stoved in. Bracken grimaced at the sight, wanting to look away, but something about it caught his eye. The creature wore a shirt, sodden and torn, and stretched tight around its bulk.

Bracken crouched down, inspecting the fabric properly. A symbol was embroidered into it. The design was familiar. As well it should have been. He'd seen it everywhere he went for most of his life, including on the sails of the ship on which he stood. A silver chalice, emblazoned on the dead man's sleeve. Confused, dreading what he thought he might see, Bracken rose and looked around. Almost a dozen corpses littered the deck. Almost all of them were marked the same.

The drowned were company men; sailors in the employ of his father.