The Conqueror Worms 2 - Deluge by Brian Keene

Author:Brian Keene [Keene, Brian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Horror, flyboy707, Bolt, sycoticmuskrat
ISBN: 9781621050841
Amazon: 162105084X
Publisher: Deadite Press
Published: 2013-02-01T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 37

“Do you see anything?”

Yawning, Mylon shook his head. He lowered the binoculars and pointed at the lenses. “Can’t see shit through these things. They’re all fogged over. Got anything dry I can wipe them with?”

Riffle laughed. “You’re kidding, right? I can’t remember the last time I had something dry.”

“I dream about it sometimes. It’s funny. Before the rain started, I used to dream about other stuff. Food, mostly. And sex. But these days, I just dream about being dry. And warm.”

Nodding, Riffle peered through the haze, trying to catch a glimpse of Novak and the others. The mist had grown thicker since their departure, and the rain fell harder. The island was still visible, but the small boat had disappeared from sight. He felt uneasy. Granted, he usually felt that way all day long in this new world, but now the feeling was amplified.

“I hope they’re okay.”

“Yeah,” Mylon said, raising the binoculars again. “I hope so, too. I reckon they will be. Novak’s a tough son of a bitch.”

Riffle grinned. “That he is. I remember when I first met him, he—”

A scream cut him off. Mylon sat the binoculars down and both men ran out onto the deck. They skidded to a halt. Paris knelt by the rail. Morgan stood overtop of her. He clutched a pistol in one hand and Paris’s hair in the other. He yanked her head back, forcing her to cry out again. Ben stood next to them, armed with a rifle. He appeared anxious and sick, almost as if he were going to vomit.

“What the fuck?” Riffle yelled.

“I’m sorry,” Paris sobbed. “They didn’t give me a—”

“Shut up.” Morgan pulled her hair again, and then pointed the handgun at her head.

“Where did you get those guns?” Riffle asked, staring at them in disbelief.

“Your boss man is slipping,” Morgan said. “He told us to stow them again and then sailed off to Fantasy Island—after threatening to toss me over the side. I guess I forgot to lock mine up again. Oops.”

“What the hell is wrong with you, Morgan?” Mylon took a step toward him. “What is this?”

“It’s a mutiny. And if you come any closer, I’m going to decorate the deck with this girl’s brains.”

The rain fell on them all. Paris sobbed. Riffle and Mylon froze, their hands in the air. Ben’s eyes darted from the two of them to Morgan and then back again. The rifle shook in his hands.

“Okay,” Riffle said, his voice low. “Look… you guys don’t need to do this. Ben, come on, dude. This isn’t you.”

“I don’t want to die,” Ben said. “Novak’s gone crazy, Riffle. All that talk about suicide pacts? He needs to step down.”

“And you’re gonna put Morgan in charge instead?” Mylon’s tone was incredulous. “Listen to yourself, man!”

Morgan released Paris and prodded her with his foot. “Get over there with the others.”

Still sobbing, Paris crawled across the slippery deck. Riffle reached out a hand and helped her to her feet. She clung to him, shivering.

“Now,” Morgan said. “We need to figure out where everyone stands.

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