Page 61 of Legacy of Chaos

“Emergency ascend,” Oskar said calmly, and she had to give him credit. She wasn’t even sure she could speak right now, let alone speak in a soothing monotone. “Buckle in.”

She was already buckled, so she held tight as the craft shot upward, its light shining on the rig’s structure as they passed joints and bolts and other things she couldn’t identify.

“There’s another one,” Taran barked. “Multiple heat signatures moving this way.”

“How long?”

“You got about sixty seconds,” Stryke said.

She glanced at the pilot, and her heart sank. The look on his face said they wouldn’t make it.

“I’m guessing this thing isn’t armed?”

He snorted.

Okay, so it didn’t have weapons. But…the submersible was a giant piece of machinery with advanced technology. As long as she was on board, itcouldbe armed, especially with the improvements she and Stryke had made to the skin of the craft.

Quickly, she formed the first defensive spell weave she’d learned and injected it into every bit of onboard electronics.

“What are you doing?” Taran asked.

Suddenly, the sub swung sideways and forward, crashing against a platform beam. The metal groaned and creaked, and then, through the metal walls, something screamed.

“Yes!” Stryke breathed. “Cyan, what did you do?”

“I sent a bolt of lightning through the water. We might only get one more charge out of it before it drains the sub’s power, though.”

“It’s coming back—”

She looked at the camera just in time to see a massive set of teeth and long, creepy claws flashing in front of the screen before everything went dark, and they were tumbling through the blackness. The sound of rending, twisting metal, and furious shrieks blew through her ears until the pain became overwhelming.

And then there was no sound at all.

“Reel it in!” Stryke shouted at the top of his lungs as he raced from the FOC to the sub’s launch and recovery platform. “Reel the fucking thing in!”

The crew was already on it, and he knew that. But panic had destroyed his logical thoughts. All he could do was act on instinct and fear—something he hadn’t done since…

Fuck.

He charged down the metal steps two at a time, clearing three levels in mere seconds. He hit the platform at full speed, skidding across the wet surface until he managed to grab a railing.

Three technicians scrambled to bring the submersible the rest of the way to the surface, one watching the water, one operating the lift, and the other standing guard with a flamethrower. Above them on the two upper levels, several members of the security detail manned outposts, their various weapons aimed at the churning waters below.

Stryke’s pulse pounded in his ears, and his heart hammered in his chest as the top of the little craft breached the surface. Blackened, twisted claw marks and mangled tooth puncturesscored the sub’s thick skin, and Stryke held his breath as the crew stabilized the craft and popped the hatch.

“Help me!” Oskar held Cyan in his arms, her unconscious body slumped against his chest.

Stryke’s heart plummeted to his feet. He sprang into action, working with the crane operator to haul her limp body through the narrow hatch. Her face dripped blood from a gash in her temple, her head hanging loosely from her shoulders. Oskar pushed from below, but the craft suddenly wrenched hard. The crane operator lost his grip as Oskar lost his footing, and Cyan nearly dropped all the way back into the pod. Only Stryke’s hold on her wrist kept her from hitting the deck.

The high-pitched whirr of arrows and other projectiles filled the air, joining the hellish roars of the creatures under the waves. A massive claw punched out of the water and caught the crane operator. The male didn’t even have time to scream before he suffered asuddencatastrophic decapitation event.

Shit.

Stryke hauled Cyan up, her body slamming against the sides of the hatch as the craft bucked and rocked. She groaned, her eyes opening, flaring in groggy recognition. She seemed to understand the urgency and swung her empty hand upward to grip his arm.

A demon, black as night with glowing yellow eyes, its slick skin rippling and steaming in the cold air, flung itself out of the water and wrapped around the pod. Stryke leaped backward, taking Cyan with him. They landed in a pile as the demon attacked the pod’s hoist with its teeth and webbed claws. Oskar tried to escape, the terror on his face stark and gut-wrenching as he desperately tried to claw his way out of the craft before the hoist failed.

In a groan of metal, the hoist collapsed and fell into the sea, taking the pod, the demon, and Oskar with it.

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