T-Plus 17

  Oliver had only been to a beach and seen an ocean of water a handful of times in his life up until now, much less an island. He was more comfortable with the sea of stars that was always within view regardless of where he worked or lived. The term “deserted island” had never struck a chord with him until the situation unfolded before them by the second. Surrounded by water and invisible dangers, corralled onto a miniature platform that couldn’t guarantee their survival, and unsure of if they could get off of this enclosed land in one piece. The worst of it was, they could see the area outside of their watery enclosure where the aliens were spread too thin.

  His legs were soaked from the struggle earlier, and the throbbing in his foot had intensified. His entire body was trembling from the cold, but sitting down was risky. The water level increased by the minute, the circle of dry rubble enclosing in on their huddle space. The three of them stood back to back, shuffling as much inwards without shoving another off.

  Toast still held the two blowtorches in his hands, waving them in uneasy circles and waiting for a watery tendril to reveal itself. They didn’t. Emerson kept an arm out to support Oliver from tipping over, either from pain or the excessive shivering. They remained silent for a beat, before Toast broke the silence.

“You think we’ll make it if we run for it?”

  Measuring the amount of water in the corridor with his eyes, Oliver gave the distance to freedom a good six or seven steps before they’d be able to return to dry ground. That is, if the water remained as it was without shifting and ebbing itself.

“Only you’d be able to make it,” Emerson answered in return after making her own mental calculations. “Hensley and I won’t make it with our legs.”

“Wish we had grabbed a few bottles of liquid nitrogen from the lab,” the scientist muttered as the aliens’ water entrapment tightened yet again. “Would’ve been funny to see at least.”

“Who would’ve known that we’d run into water aliens?” Oliver said, limping backwards another half step.

“I’m never going to trust the Station’s filtration system again, thanks,” Toast said as he kicked a piece of loose rubble into the water.

  The aliens forming around them accepted the offering with a plop, the rock dropping and being crushed with loud crunching noises in the clear water in a matter of seconds.

“It seems like they only have so much volume,” Emerson observed, gesturing at the periphery of the water.

  The higher they rose up onto their island, the less space they were taking in the rest of the corridor. At their current water level, one good jump would clear them of most of the water. Another one or two steps out would get them back into dry tile. At the rate the aliens were climbing, it would just take the three of them one good jump to make it off their uninhabitable island of rubble.

“Seems like jumping is the only option,” Toast agreed. “Should I jump first?”

  Oliver shook his head, shrugging the straps on his shoulders to a different position.

“No, there’s no time. Just jump and run.”

  The water had reached their toes as they discussed jumping away from their makeshift island. The water volume had condensed to wrap around the pile of rubble they stood on, leaving only the trail that connected this body of water to its original source and a small radius of water away from the rising tide. It was just enough to jump over it and slip away. Or slip on the edge of the water and be dragged back.

  As the water filled the area beneath their feet, soaking the bottom of their shoes, Oliver leaped forward. He braced himself with his arms, rolling forward out of the shallow water and grimacing from the pressure he forced onto his foot. Ignoring it to the best of his tolerance, he pushed forward and ran down the corridor without turning around. He heard footsteps behind him and assumed the other two had made it off after him. A glance over his shoulder would’ve confirmed the fact, but one distraction would probably tip him off balance if he tried.

  The splashing of water hitting the ground from a high point sounded from behind the footsteps. The thuds of footsteps quickly were accompanied by splashes with every step. Oliver couldn’t keep up his pace and proceeded to limp quickly, clenching his thigh to focus on a different pain. Toast passed him, sprinting ahead and leaving wet footprints behind him. The technician expected to see Emerson pass him by in a moment too, but he only heard a scream behind him instead.

  He glanced over his shoulder to see the doctor slip in the water, multitudes of tendrils dragging her legs back into the deeper water. She flailed her arms forward in an attempt to drag herself out of the condensed water. Emerson crawled forward, struggling against the aliens.

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  Oliver hobbled back, gritting his teeth, and grabbed the doctor’s hands. The water pooled together and soaked the bottom of his boots, intending to drag him down with her. With a grunt, he pulled Emerson off the ground, kicking at the tendrils that dripped off of her. The strands of water latched onto his legs and arms instead, making his skin freeze upon contact. Goosebumps rose on his arms, and he almost dropped Emerson from the cold shock.

  Luckily, the doctor held onto his arms, pulling herself up without his aid. The two struggled away from the water. Although these aliens didn’t try to instantly take a chunk out of them like their initial forms, they seemed to have a strong grappling ability. Even after either of them stomped on their restraints or flung the thinner strands, they were resilient and reformed themselves before renewing their efforts of latching onto their prey.

  If he tugged on Emerson, they would tug back. If he took a step away from them, they’d corral them back and try to tip his already precarious balance. If he or Emerson squashed a tendril or bubbling epicenter beneath their feet, three more would replace it. If they kicked at the water, it would ripple and reform in front of their eyes.

  Once Emerson was properly on her feet and wasn’t being half dragged under, although that was a battle in itself, Oliver shoved her toward Toast, who had gone ahead without realizing their struggles. Or rather, he was striding ahead even when he could obviously hear Oliver and Emerson’s panicked cries and loud cursing. The doctor looked back, turning to help drag the technician with her. The water gathered up to their knees, attempting to trip them. He could feel them pulling and sliding around his ankles, beneath his boots, tugging at his knees. Their efforts constantly swayed him, and without Emerson’s help, he would’ve fallen back into their swarm multiple times now.

“Do you have torches on you?” Oliver asked as he kicked away another series of watery shackles.

  Emerson shook her head, trying to stay on the very edge of where the water was thinning.

“Do you think they’ll loosen up the further they are from their source?” she asked, holding her hands out but unsure of what to do with them as Oliver splashed around in the deepening puddle.

  Although they hadn’t made it too far away from their deserted island, they had made it around the bend during their jump and following struggles. From their current angle, the residential sector was out of their sight, with only the thin, barely discernible line of water marking their previous path. Other than the trail, the remaining volume of water pooled up around him. A portion followed Emerson, who continued to circle within arm’s reach of him, but the majority had tangled itself up to his thighs. Every step took extra effort and the tendrils were reaching up to his arms and elbows, some of the longer ones even encroaching toward his neck.

  The doctor wasn’t in a much better state. Although the water only reached her knees and she had an easier time swatting them away than him, the moment she decided to turn back to help him, she couldn’t get out of their range either.

“Of course Vaughn would leave us at a time like this,” Emerson cursed as she tugged off her backpack to toss onto drier ground.

  Following her example, Oliver struggled between keeping his balance, shrugging the straps off his shoulders, and fighting off the tendrils that were latched onto him. Using his backpack’s weight, muttering a hope that the electronics would be padded enough, he spun in a circle, half in an attempt to rip off the water and half to send the precious cargo as far out of the danger zone as possible. He was finally successful in something today, and the backpack was flung even past where Emerson had tossed hers.

“Even as a joke he wouldn’t do that,” Oliver said, continuing to struggle forward now that he didn’t have weight on his back. “Knowing him, he probably has something useful in his room.”

“His room-?” Emerson said as she tripped.

  Her fall caused a huge splash, causing water droplets to fly everywhere. Within the chaos of water parting and Emerson sputtering and coughing, Oliver caught the sound of bubbles dispersing. He could only hope that that meant her misfortune had gotten rid of one of the aliens that had followed them out of here. That wasn’t something he could mull over at the moment as he strove forward to help Emerson up out of the watery trap she had fallen into.

  Her arms flailed despite only being in shallow water. In normal circumstances, all she’d have to do was sit up. However, the moment she fell, the aliens surged from him to her, converging on her and attempting to drown her in the middle of the otherwise dry corridor. The water piled onto her, pinning her down and submerging her quickly. Oliver slid over, batting away as much water from her head as possible while catching one of her flailing hands to haul her up.

  Water slid up his arms, wrapping around his legs again. As he pulled her out of her watery coffin, they were attempting to drag him down with her. The two of them were soaked, sputtering and coughing as they started another struggle against the aliens. Just when Oliver thought they’d end up in the same positions as earlier, Toast’s voice returned.

“AHA! I knew I had some!”

  From the corner of his vision, Oliver caught sight of something flying toward them. It smashed into his arm, breaking on his uniform sleeve on impact. It splattered onto the water, emitting a hazy gas that was cold to the touch. It drifted closer to the ground, hovering over the water. It wasn’t enough to instantly freeze the water, but soon another jar shattered on Emerson. She screamed at the contact and soon Toast was bombarding them with several more jars of liquid nitrogen. They went from fending off water tendrils to covering their heads to lessen the damage from glass pieces.

  The water aliens also panicked at the cold touch they weren’t used to. With the constant attack, they thinned themselves out and froze faster. Oliver used the diversion to pull Emerson up, and the two staggered over to Toast, who was still tossing bottles and jars of liquid nitrogen.

“Much much did you keep in your room!” Oliver cursed, glancing into the bag the scientist had brought along with him.

“I have two barrels stashed,” Toast responded, packing up the remaining bottles now that the aliens had scattered and turned into distinct puddles on the ground. “I just brought as much as I could keep without it melting on me.”

“Remind me to overlook your next safety transgression, just once,” Oliver sighed, finally setting himself on dry ground.