his back, his thoughts racing again, assessing, the water to his waist and almost to Rebecca's heaving chest.
- outer door pops, pull the pin and get in the cage, hold the hatch closed -
They'd probably still die. But if they could pull it off, they wouldn't go out alone. Griffith watched the water rise, watched the two run through a stereotypical melodrama almost absently - his thoughts had already turned to the coming dawn, and the problem of getting the heavy canisters upstairs. He supposed it served him right, losing his temper that way...
The pair were putting on quite a show. The girl, angry at the Brit's apathy; the quick, desperate look for a way out of then- predicament. The final embrace, then the panic - the girl clutching at the T-Virus drone, the Brit talking at her, frowning, worried for her sanity even as the dark water rose over her young bosom. Sad, so sad. They should never have come, never have tried to, to get at me...
Now the man was holding her up, pathetically working to postpone the inevitable as the water spun up across the glass. Once they were dead, he'd pop the cage, give the Leviathans a treat before setting them free again, free to swim in unmanned seas and live out their days in peace. Ocean and land as one, his mind murmured dream- ily. Mirrors of simplicity, instinct... The drone body fluttered lazily past the window, and he saw that the two invaders had propped them- selves between the hatches, struggling to hold on to the last bit of air. A determined pair, if thick-headed. It occurred to him suddenly that he'd never bothered to find out who they were, who had sent them...
... and it doesn't matter now, does it?
The lock had filled. The light on the control panel indicated that the outer door had unlatched. It was over -
-except they were scrambling to get out, kicking through into the cage, and something small dropped past the window as they pushed the door closed behind them -
Griffith frowned and... BOOM! He just had time to register disbelief before the hatch slammed into his body and the screaming torrent of liquid ice took his breath away.
Chapter Eighteen
When the grendade exploded, everything happened too fast for Rebecca to think about. There were only sensations, terror reigning over all. Brilliant light and explosive movement as the door blew outward, hardness against her back that gave way in an instant, lungs screaming, a billion bubbles like bullets, and incredible, impossible pressure that seemed to go on and on in shades of cold and black. Faster than fast, movement and muffled, strange sound. Dark shapes moved over her feeling mind, blotting out everything in growing flickers of dizziness and her chest was imploding, her lungs eating them- selves. She kicked and kicked and kicked and as her legs started to weaken, the dark flickers swallowing her up - air, sweet, wonderful air slapped across her dying face. She drank convulsively, gasping in great, heav- ing gulps of the stuff, still not thinking at all. Her bodythought instead, greedily swallowing life, the sprayand sting of salt, the warmer, rocking waves, a high, reedy buzz... CRASH! A massive wave of pressure pushed her forward, driving water up her nose as buckets of it suddenlyrained down on top of her. Rebecca gasped air, spinning, her mind connected to her body again.
David! What's... "Rebecca!" A choked cry, from somewhere in the buzzing dark. The buzz was clearer now, it was... CRASH! Another surging wave, another torrent pouring over her, seeking to drown her as Griffith had been unable to do, and as the rain fell away, she saw light - thick beams of it piercing the dark, wild surface of the cove. A boat. An engine's powerful, deepening thrum as it sped toward her over the thrashing sea. "Rebecca!" David's desperate call, from her left. "I'm here..."
CRASH! She could see the explosion this time, see the giant column of water silhouetted against the searching beams of light before the debris-encrusted wave knocked her back, blinding her with a vicious slap of foam. She managed to take a quick gulp of air before the column came down, crashing over her, spattering loudly against the choppy surface.
Depth charges, they're firing depth charges...
Umbrella?
The boat was less than thirty meters away when the engine suddenly cut out, the lights playing across the water in front of her. There was a splashing move- ment nearby and the