Children of the Water [Part Two]

     He had some notion that, perhaps, in such a city filled with aesthetic beauty and ornamental architecture, there would be some landscaped features filled with sand he could use. And, Behold! The city did provide for him, though only after more walking and the sky growing progressively more dark. There was a rather large building ahead of him, bearing a standing logo on it’s roof with letters in an order that he could understand. With glee, he read the part of the sign that was still somewhat legible to him: “Motors.” Much of the other letters had since fallen from the sign.

     Clearly, this building was once an assembly plant for engines or even the full vehicles that they would go into. What was more presently valuable to him was the landscaping feature in front of it: an artistic collage like statue that stood at the edge of the water and was surrounded by small sand and rock garden. Beyond the artistic piece, there were two sets of doors, the first were standard lobby doors flanked by windows. The other a pair were built by a corner in the building, making a partially hidden area where the remains of a picnic table laid. The doors, being made of metal and one hanging open slightly, probably gave access too and from a break and smoking area, something familiar from his old life. With a relieved smile that came from his search being over he took a few steps towards the waters edge but suddenly noticed a pungent odour hanging in the air. It smelt like discarded meat and he also began to notice a cloud of flies flitting around in front of him.

     The source of the stench, he hadn’t realized until now, was just at his feet and tangled within the sand and water loving plants. He grimaced as he bent down to take a closer look but recoiled away from the rot assailing his nose. It was some kind of small animal, but what it once was had been too torn to shreds for an amateur like him to identify. His stomach began to turn in knots, both from the smell and seeing that the majority of the corpse left behind was only ripped skin and crushed bones. An amateur like him knew, at the very least, that something bigger had killed and eaten the rest of it somewhat recently.

     As unnerved as he was he brushed it aside but was effectively warned that something that enjoys meat had made this area it’s haunt. He had seen plenty of animals as they were flushed from the underbrush by his clumsy progress; surely he was safe now.

     He knelt at the waters edge and took the bottles from the bag, two of them being rather sizable wine bottles and the rest some kind of beer bottle, though the labels on all of them had since fallen away. It turned into a very similar routine to one of his responsibilities in his profession: cleaning glassware. Letting himself relax he rinsed the bottles, dug organic gunk out with a thin stick, wishing for a long handled bristle brush and listening to the sounds of the nature conquered city around him.

     As with all mundane chores that must be done, he let his mind wander as his hands packed bottles with sand and water and shook them vigorously to abrade the filth from the glass. The sky above was becoming ever darker and he was becoming concerned that he would have to eventually find some shelter, perhaps for the rest of the night. Though, in the grand scheme of things, that wasn’t too much of an issue.

     The quality of water he was working with, however, would be an enduring problem from what he could see. He was used to seeing small aquatic plants, tiny fishes and clear water when his father took him to the streams and ponds in the country when he wasn’t confined to a bed in his childhood. It looked like that here - with the murk and the slight smell of sulphur coming off the water - the water wouldn’t be potable in the slightest. In fact, he felt that the filter he had gone through much trouble to purchase was turning increasingly worthless in this crumbled city. Before too long he would have to find some way to distill the water to make sure it was completely safe to drink.

      The washing was going well, the filth that stained the bottles didn’t take much persuasion to relinquish it’s staining grasp. He thought about filling all the bottles with water and taking them along, but the thought of this tepid water damaging the other goods in his bag dissuaded him. Besides, he was in the presence of more water than he could do anything with. It was only a means of sticking to the shore and distilling water as he needed it. Yet, as he placed the empty bottles in his bag a thought occurred to him. Surely there was a more permanent water-source that fed this urban lake?

     “Yeah, be a pain in the ass to distill water every day…” He muttered, closing his bag and shifting some leftover scraps of what was once his vest to stop the annoying clinking of the bottles. Unbeknownst to him in his liquid pondering, the songbirds that had previously been singing freely had suspiciously gone quiet after some raucous warning calls.

     “I have tonight to collect rain water, if the weather keeps up like this, but I can’t rely on only tha-,”

     His own comment was cut off by a movement off to his periphery. He turned, sure he had seen something moving close against the ground, yet when he looked towards this interruption he initially questioned if he had actually seen anything. The cracks in his spectacle lens weren't helping either and he was about to turn away when something quickly leapt out from the long water-weeds towards him.

     “Oh, shit…,”

     A panic arose in him and he turn to run as he heard a reptilian hiss from behind him, the sound of clawed feet rapidly slapping against the ground as the creature chased him. His flight felt as though he was running from something in a nightmare, his sprint slower than his nonathletic norm, hampered by his crude attempt at footwear. The goal of his retreat was the slightly ajar door that was only a couple dozen meters ahead of him, if he could make it there he would be safe.

     That is if the old doors would hold…

     It felt like it was his only hope, beyond those old, steel doors. His legs pounding the sand then long grass then cracked concrete while his lungs gasped for air and his heart thumped so loud in his ears he couldn’t tell if it was his own pulse or his pursuer’s footsteps. As he sprinted his hand smacked painfully into the holster at his side but he fretted that he couldn’t draw it in time to have any sway over his death. He had little time to regret drawing his firearm, but as that thought came to his mind, he realized vividly that there was regret he could fixate on.

     He did not want to die. Not again. He couldn’t bear it a second time. Even thinking about it drove him onwards to gather up speed he didn’t know is body could wield. He forgot his panting breath and burning lungs and bashed his body through the doorway only to reverse speed and brace against the door again. There was a momentary pause before the entire frame of the door was jolted as the creature smashed against it and let out an apparently annoyed hiss.

     A brief moment of triumph and relief flooded through him and he could have let his shaking knees give out beneath him, if not for a repeated slam against the closed door. The entrance opened up a few inches before clattering shut again as he pushed back against the reptilian beast. For a couple moments this violent dance was performed a few more times, his shield being thrust backwards further and further with each strike; at least until a long claw suddenly appeared right next to his face.

     Yelping, rather childishly, he jerked his head back as the wriggling, black claw began peel open the thin steel of the door with the ease of a can-opener. His breath was coming in short, jumpy gasps as the predator began to open up a hole through the door itself, it's natural weaponry starting to make a hole large enough for it's scaled hand to break through. He pressed all his weight against the door, but there was no escape from becoming this creature’s meal. With a frustrated grunt he peeled one arm away from the door and pulled his gun from it’s holster, the weight of his attacker slowly pushing him back and forcing the punctured door open.

     Shoving it against the door he rattled off several rounds, the sharp reports from the weapon causing his ears to immediately ring in such a confined space. As the harsh shrill peaked and sluggishly started to recede, the force pushing the door inward suddenly relented and he could have sworn he heard the sound of a fleeing skitter through the damaged entrance. He hadn’t noticed when he entered, but the hallway he was in was pitch-dark, save for the new holes that let light into the building. Letting the panic release it’s grip on him he doubled forward and began to pant, trying to stop hyperventilation from attacking his lungs.

      Once his nerves had been gathered back up he took a nervous glance through the new peep-holes in the door. To his relief the creature had vanished and through an opened crack in the door he was greeted with the satisfying sight of a dribble of blood on the concrete in a trail away from its injury. He let out a final deep breath and he let calm fully replace his panic; sitting in the darkness and letting his heart rate settle to a point where it didn’t feel like it would hop out of his chest. Yet, as he was calming down he began to think more logically and became worried that perhaps the monster would come back after it regained it’s own courage and tended to it’s wounds.

     After picking up the ejected shell-casings from the floor and squirreling them into his bag he tasked himself with going deeper into the building. He felt blessed and a belated thankfulness to that guerrilla woman for giving him the specific pistol in his hands. It was an extremely modern piece, manufactured to be the military’s new sidearm with all the bells-and-whistles: optic, light and a laser. Though he was unsure of how long the battery would last, it was fresh as far as he knew and should last a decent while. The thought crossed his mind that perhaps he could find replacement batteries for both the flashlight and the optic, but he wondered if that was too much wishful thinking.

     None-the-less, the light switched on and the claustrophobic darkness receded from the cone of light projecting from under the handgun’s barrel. In the new light that filled the hallway he was surprised, rather pleasantly, to see a row of chairs against the wall and several pictures hanging up across from them. In such a barren and lifeless city, even such regular décor soothed an anxiety inside him that, till now, he didn’t realize he had within him. Perhaps there were still some things to scavenge from this city, maybe even some creature comforts.

     Moving pass the furniture and decorations, the hallway ended at an intersection with another set of double doors and a short hallway leading to an office area. To further satisfy his curiosity - though he felt he should leave the area as quickly as possible - he checked the cubicles before breaching the other set of doors. His suspicions were correct, though he wondered why this was. Much like the entrance hallway, the cubicles were furnished with the usual and mundane objects of an office space. However, why here? Why were all the high-rise buildings stripped of anything valuable as well as the otherwise trivial objects?

     He shook his head and backtracked, confused by his findings as well as being disappointed at not being able to search more thoroughly. There were plenty of cubicles to ransack - on top of all the desk draws there were to rifle through - but he just had to get out of here. Steadily his concern was beginning to rise as he heard rain patter and then pound upon the metal roof above him and he abandoned his perplexing surroundings. He needed to get out of this building… no; this whole city. There was no telling how many of those creatures were around, if they were attracted to loud sounds… or if they were smart enough to use the cover of rain and darkness for an ambush.

     It was luck; unabashed luck that he managed this far without encountering the monsters that apparently made this city their home.

     Pushing through the double doors, he found himself on the factory floor: the entire objective of the building. One of his assumptions about the building’s name was correct: it seemed this particular factory made automotive engines. Of an impressive variety, no less, guessing by the different sizes of engines in various stages of assembly or repair. Though he didn’t have any mechanical or logistical inclinations; he couldn’t help but be impressed by the layout of the facility as he swept his light about. Through some of dust and rust motes falling from the ceiling and the age upon the machinery, the facility was otherwise orderly save for the occasional toppled shelf and an industrial air conditioning unit which had fallen through the ceiling.

     Wavering light shone through the hole as rain poured through it, pooling upon the concrete floor before flowing towards the darkness of the rearmost wall of the factory. Initially he thought he could have climbed up the tall warehouse shelving, but he discarded that thought immediately when he saw on the far side of the facility another set of doors with an unlit ‘EXIT’ sign above it. Yet as he looked through the cavernous room a reflection caught his eye just a few steps before him, a lustrous sheen that winked at him from a shelf as his light passed over it.

     It was on his way to the exit, after-all, might as well take a look, he thought to himself as he walked down a couple of steps onto the floor.

     To his joy, it was a coil of thin copper tubing that was resting in a shallow box with some other vague engine parts and various mechanical opuses that were certainly integral to the function of an engine. Not that he would know it, however.

     There was perhaps twenty or so feet in the patina-tinged coil and he eagerly stuffed it into his bag with the gleeful intention of using it in his water purification endeavours. In another moment of awareness of his goals he let out a half-chuckle at his yearning to simply distill water, as it was one of the most basic chemical experiments any primary-school student could preform. The blissful moment was brutally ruptured by a sky-splitting thunderclap and an eerie flash of light that blasted through the hole in the ceiling and he jumped in fright at the vocalizations of the growing storm above. He didn’t care to spend a night in this factory, not with that creature about nor within this storm.

     As he shuffled forward he realized that he underestimated how much of the building was flooded; his mismatched foot-ware first slipping in the film of water before his feet began getting soaked as the murky water deepened. It was oddly slippery as he made towards his goal, a slick muck covering the floor in the deeper waters. He suddenly had the feeling that the building was sluggishly sinking down into the earth it had been built upon, mud flowing in from cracks in the floor and holes in the wall. As the mud sucked at his feet, trying to snatch his rubber flip-flop from his foot and trip him into the tepid water he noticed a different smell in the air.

     He wasn’t all together sure when he first noticed it, but it felt rather familiar with a vague and nostalgic quality. However, it certainly wasn’t a pleasant smell. In fact, it smelt of excrement and ammonia, the smell becoming noticeably more pungent and… fresh.

     Then, three things happen in a quick succession.

      First, the man passing through this industrial facility had an eureka moment, connecting his memories to the present. It was a pleasant yet disgusting memory of his older sister dealing with some large lizard and it’s ongoing indigestion while visiting her workplace with his father. Though she was several years his elder, she had the pleasant kindness and cheerful demeanour of an obsessively curious child. It was little surprise that she wanted to study and help animals.

     The second was a mound of mud that he nearly fell into that had an eye-watering vapour hanging over them. The heap was made mostly of mud but as he skirted around it he noticed a depression in the top of it along with some speckled white orbs nestled into the sludge… large eggs, he quickly realized.

       However, the events that replayed in his mind as he would later think back on his moment revolved only around what happened next.

     From the darkness was a powerful, bass rumble that seemed to ripple the very water he stood in and an abrupt silence that followed. Then came a gasping inhale that filled monstrous lungs for another deep-throated bellow, the sound of approaching splashes were nearly drowned out by the threat. In a panic he raised his handgun against the approaching creature, getting only a glimpse of it’s horrific form before completely losing his nerve and breaking into an all-out sprint to the factories exit. The moment this monstrosity was revealed, it’s predatory eyes reflecting the light, it’s thick scaled body glistening with water and damp algae and it’s terrifying jaws filled with large, conical teeth. Yet what struck him most in that brief moment was the gargantuan height of the creature as it stood on two legs and glared down upon him.

     As he fled and smashed his way out of the doors and into the raging storm the reptilian mother calmly receded back into the water, assured that her unhatched brood were safe yet again. The hunt would have to begin once they had hatched.