The Tide (Tide Series Book 1) by Anthony J Melchiorri Page A

Miguel’s visor. Dom lunged and yanked back on one of the horn-like protrusions above the creature’s brow. He drove his knife into the flesh under its chin. Hot blood spilled out. The Skull wailed a high-pitched scream and flailed its arms. Dom dodged the bony talons and twisted the blade deeper. With a final cry of agony, the creature twisted, more hot crimson spilling, before it fell limp. Dom turned the beast over and removed his knife. He wiped the blood on the tattered remnants of the monster’s suit.
    Backing away, Miguel cradled one of his arms. “That thing was one of the scientists here.”
    Dom pointed to Miguel’s arm. “What the hell happened?”
    Miguel waved the limb. “Just the prosthetic again.”
    Despite the dismissal, Miguel’s tone was worried. Gashes in Miguel’s bio suit revealed the complex wires and actuators in his metal appendage. A deep pit formed in Dom’s stomach. He didn’t want to believe what he saw. First Brett, now this. Even if they fixed the positive pressure suit with duct tape, it was already too late. The tears were too large—the entire arm of Miguel’s suit was in tatters. “Your suit’s been compromised.”
    “But the arm is fine,” Miguel said, feigning his normal good humor.
    “Miguel, if whatever is turning people into these monsters happens to be airborne”—Dom pointed to the dead Skull—”then you might be exposed to it.”
    “Then I might be,” Miguel said, sounding determined. “And there’s not a hell of a lot we can do now. What are you going to do? Send me back to the boat?”
    “You need the doctor to take a look at you.” Glenn rested a large gloved hand on Miguel’s shoulder.
    “How’s Lauren going to help me? She’ll need to give me a diagnosis first.” He waved a hand at the Skull’s corpse. Blood pooled around its head. “And I doubt she knows what kind of disease does this to a person.”
    Dom slung his SCAR-H across his back. “Damn it.” His first instinct was to abort the mission and retreat. They’d already lost one man, and now they faced the loss of a second.
    As if reading Dom’s thoughts, Miguel caught his eyes through their visors. “If it’s already too late for me, I want it to be worthwhile. The only way to do that is by finding out what’s going on here. We need to stop this bioweapon from being used on others. Your family, Dom. The States. Think about it.” He tore off the tattered sleeve and tossed it aside. Scott gasped, but Miguel ignored him.
    “No, Miguel,” Dom said. But as much as he wanted to believe it, he knew Miguel’s suit didn’t matter now.
    “No point in wearing this torn up piece of shit anymore.” Miguel’s hair was matted to his head by sweat, his breath condensing in his visor. “If I’m screwed, I’m screwed. But I want to make this count. Let’s get the data off these computers and scrounge up whatever samples we can. Let’s figure out what’s going on before the whole goddamned world is turned to Skulls. Let’s—” His eyes shot to the small LCD screen on his prosthetic limb, now open to the atmosphere.
    Dom stepped forward. “What is it?”
    “Remember the chip Chao installed in my arm?”
    “For detecting trace explosives?”
    “That’s the one,” Miguel said. “It’s found something.”

-9-
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    J ay Perry stood in the wheelhouse of the yacht. The bow broke through the choppy waves, remnants of the storm following them from the oil platform turned Frankenstein’s lab. Whitecaps continuously slapped along the boat’s hull, and a frothy wake trailed behind them. The skies were slowly turning from an ominous black back to a calmer cerulean.
    In his mind’s eye, Jay saw the last creature fling itself at him once more. He had barely dodged its raking claws and gnashing teeth. It had been luck more than anything that drove his knife through the beast’s nasal cavity and into its brain. The thing had writhed then fallen still. Its body had