The Map of the Sky (Trilogía Victoriana #2)(45)
“And if I may say so, Captain, I agree with Allan: this conversation could take place some other time,” he suggested, still brandishing his pistol.
MacReady contemplated the three men in turn, his face apoplectic with rage. Eventually he lowered his gun with a sigh and, pushing past Griffin, strode angrily toward the cargo hold, the others following close behind. A group of anxious sailors encircled the door, awaiting their orders.
“Are you sure the monster is in there?”
“Yes, Captain,” Wallace confirmed. “I saw it go in. It looked like a huge ant . . . Well, not exactly; in fact, it was as big as a pig, though it didn’t look like a pig either. It was more like a—”
“Spare me the descriptions, Wallace,” snapped MacReady.
The captain fell silent, while the crew huddled round the narrow door to the cargo hold watched him expectantly.
“Pay attention,” he said, emerging finally from his deliberations and looking disdainfully at Reynolds. “Incredible though it may sound, that son of a bitch is capable of taking on a human appearance—that is, it can change into any one of us.”
MacReady’s words unleashed a murmur of incredulity among the sailors, yet none dared offer an opinion. Reynolds, surprised by the captain’s reaction, could not help heaving a sigh of relief. At least now there was some hope of salvation. The explorer nodded his thanks to MacReady, who signaled toward the crew, inviting the explorer to address the handful of brave men clustered before him. Reynolds stood beside the captain and cleared his throat before speaking.
“I know it sounds crazy, but what the captain says is true: the creature can make itself look like any one of us. Do not ask me how, but it can. It killed Carson, then came aboard looking like him. So, if you meet Carson in there, do not hesitate to shoot; the real Carson is lying out in the snow with his guts ripped out.”
He paused, waiting for the sailors to digest his words.
“How do we know it isn’t one of us?” ventured Kendricks, voicing the common fear.
“We don’t. It could be anyone . . . even me,” Reynolds said, glancing at the captain. “That’s why we need to be doubly vigilant.”
“I think it will be safer if we split up into pairs,” MacReady suggested, taking the floor again. “Whatever happens, each of us should try not to lose sight of our partner even for a second. That is the only way we can be sure the monster doesn’t change into one of us.”
“And if you notice anything odd about your partner,” Reynolds warned, “whether a strange glint in his eye, or a change in his voice—”
“Or a hideous tentacle extruding from his mouth,” Allan added, almost inaudibly.
“—don’t hesitate to warn the others immediately,” Reynolds concluded.
“Good. You heard what he said, lads,” growled MacReady, eager for the hunt to begin.
He divided part of the crew into five pairs and told Shepard to distribute the lanterns hanging from the hooks. When the sailor had placed the last of them in the captain’s hands, MacReady spoke to his men once more.
“That son of a bitch couldn’t have chosen a better place to hide. We may have a hard time finding it, but we have one advantage: this is the only exit. Lieutenant Blair, you and Ringwald stay here and watch the door. If that thing tries to get out, shoot it dead, understood? You others,” he said, addressing the carpenters and the rest of the maintenance crew, “I suggest you go back up to the lower deck and wait there, armed with whatever you can lay your hands on.”
“What about me, Captain?” asked Reynolds, who was not prepared to wait outside the hold.
“Reynolds, you come with me.”
The explorer was so astonished he could barely nod his agreement. He drew his pistol and positioned himself next to MacReady, feigning a resolve he was far from feeling. Pairing up with the captain was the last thing in the world Reynolds wanted to do, in particular because he had no idea whether MacReady had chosen him because of his expertise about the monster or because he considered him a liability who would get in the way of any sailor unfortunate enough to be saddled with him. Or perhaps he was intending to shoot him in the back the moment they were alone, thus ridding himself of the explorer’s irksome presence once and for all. Whatever the case, Reynolds said to himself, he must show he was equal to the task if he wanted that fool MacReady to know that he, Jeremiah Reynolds, deserved every bit of the respect and admiration the captain begrudged him.
“All right, let’s get the bastard,” the captain commanded.
? ? ?
WEAPONS AT THE READY, the group entered the hold, lanterns aloft, infiltrating the dense blackness like a swarm of fireflies. The icy space seemed at least thirty degrees colder. And despite the large space, Reynolds soon realized it was almost impossible to move around freely, for beyond the pale glow of the lantern he could make out an intricate maze of passageways formed by mounds of crates, coal sacks, water tanks, baskets, barrels, bales, and dozens of mysterious bundles covered with tarpaulins piled right up to the ceiling. At a sign from MacReady, Reynolds watched the other men slip like silent shadows into the narrow spaces, muskets sniffing the air. Peters brandished an enormous machete the length of his forearm as he moved forward, scrutinizing the darkness, his face set in a cruel grimace, in defiance of whatever was lurking in there. Griffin, incredibly small and frail by comparison, ventured into the enveloping blackness with calm self-assurance. Out of all the sailors, only Allan seemed as convinced as he was that they were all going to die in there.