Up From The Deep by Vaughn Jackson (highly recommended books txt) 📕

with each step she took. Greenwood had been afraid the first time she’d encountered Inkanyamba, but the feeling that ran through her veins as Inkanyamba stood before them now froze her to the core. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe, all she could do was watch as the titanic form loomed over them like a god incarnate. The creature didn’t even notice them as it raged in the city center, crushing everything that stood in its way.

“Something’s wrong,” she said. Inkanyamba had been a devastating force, but her actions had always been instinctual, like an animal. This was violence for the sake of violence. “The radiation must have affected her mind.”

“That makes her all the more dangerous,” Caine said. “Come on.”

“Wait,” Greenwood said, “look, there.”

In the center of Inkanyamba’s chest was a gaping hole that pulsed red with every beat of her massive heart. It glowed like a fire in the center of her onyx form.

“That’s where one of our rods went through her. It cracked open and didn’t heal properly,” Greenwood said. “Which means—”

“She can be killed,” Caine finished.

Greenwood’s comm-link came to life, “…Greenwood…status…repeat…report…”

“Come in,” Greenwood said, “I’m here. Can you repeat the message?”

“Lieutenant,” the general’s voice crackled through the static. “Are you okay?”

Caine motioned to her that they needed to move. Greenwood nodded, and the group broke into a run towards the Fisherman’s Wharf.

“We’re here,” Greenwood said as she ran. “We lost thirteen and Inkanyamba is still alive. The mission was a failure. We are retreating to Fisherman’s Wharf. We’ll evac as soon as possible. But there’s something more important.”

“Then report it, Lieutenant. We haven’t got all day.”

“Inkanyamba is weakened. There’s a wound leading to her heart that hasn’t healed. I think striking there will take her down.”

Greenwood could hear the general’s smirk as she spoke. “I’ll send a gunship your way. We will bring this monster down. Double time, soldier.”

Inkanyamba wasn’t chasing them, she hadn’t once looked down at them, but her rampage through the city carried her in the same direction as them, and with each of her heavy footfalls, she drew closer to their small group. The harbor was in view now, as was the battleship waiting for them in its waters. Greenwood recognized it immediately. The general had sent the largest ship in their personal armada, the USSWinguard. It floated alongside the USSVelocity, the railgun-fitted ship that Bunk had launched the tungsten spikes from. As they approached the dock, several sailors shouted out for them from a smaller transport vessel. They piled on board, with Greenwood going last, after ensuring that no one had been left behind. The boat cast off for the main ship, just as Inkanyamba broke through the last few buildings between her and the dock. As they approached the boat, the guns began to swivel to aim at Inkanyamba.

A smile spread across Greenwood’s face. This is it, she thought.

Interlude VII

Fear. It runs through her like an electric surge. She screams. Her bellow shakes her surroundings. Chunks of rock and debris crumble all around her. Fear. Her skin burns and the smell of flesh and fire set her heart racing. She cranes her neck to the sky to check for another fire-bringer. Her skin cracks and tears. Warm blood leaks from the wounds, steaming from the heat radiating off of her. Pain. It hurts. The dryness covers her entire body. Each motion opens new wounds. Rage. She swings her head at the remains of the nearest standing structure. Skin scrapes off her neck as it crashes through it, hoping the abrasion might bring relief. The pain only grows. Her scream sounds like the cry of a weaker creature. Of prey.

She raises her head, stone and dust raining down to the ground below. Her eyes dart around, but she sees only ruin.

She cries out for her children.

Nothing.

The wind stings against her heart. Its beating draws her attention. She sees the exposed red of her most vital organ. The wound is there, red, and angry, not gone like usual.

She doesn’t understand.

Blood. The scent is in the air. Her scent. Fear. Her wings twitch. Pain. She reels. A gargled roar escapes her dry throat. Dry. Pain. The thought comes unbidden. Water. She rights herself. Her head rises. Blood and flesh drip to the ground. Hurt. The sky is clear. No clouds. Just blue.

She turns. Through the dust and ruins lies the sea. It’s gold in the sunlight.

The sound of the waves draws her. Calm. Her pulse slows. The fear abates. Water. She lumbers forward, letting out an excited shriek. The sky fire has not taken the water. Home. Safe. Each step tears at her. Her skin steams as blood runs down feverish skin. Nothing stands in her way. Her bulk crashes through the ruined place. The stone towers scream and fall as she rams through them in a headlong charge towards the water. Her eyes burn. Dust and debris sting in the creases and crevices around her eyes. She does not flinch or waver. She emerges on the shore. The water laps at the ground. Beckoning. Tiny figures look up at her from the shore, and in the distance, three grey creatures with tall necks drift lazily on the surface of the water.

Water. Safe. She trills. The salty spray of sea water soothes the burning sensation crawling across her skin. Her trill turns to a triumphant roar as she moves towards the sea.

Danger. Something strikes her on the left. Fire. Pain. She stumbles back. Broken stone crumbles beneath her as she falls. The next attack misses. Fight. She looks towards the sea. The grey creatures.

Fear. Rage. The two emotions swirl together inside Inkanyamba and she shrieks at the feeling, righting herself quickly despite the pain. Her head swivels in time to take a blow to the side of her head that blinds her with light and heat. The skin on her face burns. She claws at it, tearing flesh. She remembers the grey sea creatures. When she woke up there had been one.