(Finished at last! Hope you all enjoy this chapter! I tried to pack in as much humor, action, and suspense as I could!)
(Warnings: slight injury, fear, fighting, death mention)
Well, they didn’t die immediately, so Sammy counted that as a small win.
The inky sewage water sloshed about the musician’s lower legs. He tried not to focus on that, but it was a bit hard not to. He also tried not to think about the fact that he was inhaling toxic fumes; even while wearing the spare nose pin Jack had lent him, he could almost taste it on his tongue. How did Jack work like this? He glanced at the lyricist trudging along beside him. He seemed unbothered, though that was probably because he was geared up with both a nose pin and high, rubber boots, while Sammy was forced to slog through the muck in regular, non-water resistant shoes.
Sammy didn’t realize he’d been glaring until Jack glared back.
“What?” the lyricist said testily.
“You sure you didn’t have any extra boots?” Sammy asked for the third time.
“Positive,” Jack replied through gritted teeth.
Sammy relented and grew spitefully silent. His hand reflexively clenched and unclenched the wrench he’d grabbed before they embarked on this rescue mission. He wasn’t sure what good it would do against a massive ink monster, but it was better than going in empty-handed.
Or maybe worse, he mused, Gives you a false sense of hope.
He shook his head. No use getting pessimistic. Susie needed rescuing and that was all he needed to worry about, though the fact that this would very likely go horribly wrong and all three of them would most certainly be eaten was an irritatingly persistent thought.
Jack spoke, as if hearing Sammy’s thoughts, “We will save her, you know, despite the odds.”
“Because we have to?” Sammy asked.
“Yeah,” Jack replied, “Because we have to.”
Sammy glanced at the lyricist, who flinched at his own shadow cast by the candle in his quivering hand. He was no fighter, but neither was Sammy. Come to think of it, they really should have asked for more backup. It wasn’t like there’d be any forthcoming, though, at least not of the useful variety. The only employees that might stand a chance against the ink monster were Thomas, Lacie, and Henry, and even they might fail. Besides, Susie needed help now and hunting those three down would take up precious time they didn’t have.
So it was up to them: a lyricist spooked by his own shadow and a musician with bird-like limbs. Yeah, they were definitely going to die.
And of all the people to die beside, it had to be Jack Fain.
“What’s the plan anyway?” Sammy snapped, “Or were you just going to go in swinging and hope that would be enough?”
Jack glared at him, “Do you have a better idea?”
No. “Of course.”
“Then by all means, let’s hear it.”
Sammy realized he’d backed himself into a corner. He cleared his throat, “Well...maybe one of us could be a distraction.” Yeah, that made sense.
“Distraction?” Jack echoed dubiously.
Sammy nodded emphatically, “One of us makes lots of noise to draw the attention of the ink thing, while the other gets Susie.”
As plans went, it was a sorry excuse for one, but tactics weren’t exactly in his job description.
“So…” Jack began, “Which of us do you intend to sacrifice?”
Oh, right. “Um…”
“Because it would make sense to put forth the largest target,” Jack glanced pointedly up and down Sammy’s lanky frame, “Don’t you think?”
Sammy regretted everything, “Well...it was just a suggestion. We don’t have to go with that plan.”
“No, no, I am quite intrigued,” If he didn’t need him to rescue Susie, Sammy would have wiped that smug look off his stupid mustached face.
Not one to take things lying down all the same, Sammy opened his mouth to respond, when a quiet gurgling stopped the breath in his lungs. Slowly, he glanced up ahead. Something was moving. Squinting, he corrected that thought. Some things were moving, almost like waves in a tumultuous sea.
Both he and Jack froze in their tracks. For all their talk of rescue, their resolve was starting to wane. Okay, maybe we should have gone for backup. Susie can last a little longer, right?
As the creatures drew nearer, the musician and the lyricist could see them for what they were. Ink creatures, small but making up for their size with sheer numbers. Sammy counted twenty at least, all of them bearing down on the two hapless employees.
Jack screamed, his grip on the candle slackening until it tipped from his hand. Sammy just barely managed to push it back into his grasp before their light was extinguished. As he did so, one of the creatures lunged. Sammy leaped to dodge its groping hand. Summoning his courage, he brought his wrench down on its slippery head. When that gave it pause, the musician struck again and again, not letting up until the creature sank back into the ink.
“I did it!” Sammy cried, before he was promptly seized by a multitude of cold, inhuman hands.
Sammy’s vocal range was actually quite high, but the noise that escaped him somehow reached new levels.
“Jack!” he screeched. He couldn’t see the lyricist. Sammy was struck with the horrible thought that Jack had abandoned him here, maybe done as Sammy himself had suggested and gone on to find Susie while there was a distraction. Or, more likely, he’d turned tail and fled.
Sammy had predicted that this rescue would be the death of him, though that didn’t mean he welcomed it. He thrashed, his feet and fists striking out at anything they could connect with. He hissed as his fist glanced off the wall, feeling the skin of his knuckles break open. And still he kept struggling. There wasn’t much choice.
Just as he felt his strength ebbing, his foot jabbed into something unexpected. It was soft but solid and gave a faint “Oof!” as it stumbled back.
Sammy had never been more relieved to hear that voice.
“Jack!”
“Sammy!”
A flicker of glorious light marked where Jack stood. Sammy could barely make him out as the lyricist plunged forward. The rescue was made a little less heroic due to Jack’s squeals whenever an ink monster reached for him, but as Sammy felt a warm, thoroughly human hand grab his wrist, he couldn’t care less.
“Run!” Jack cried. Sammy didn’t need to be told twice. The two booked it back the way they came. Neither paused to check whether they were being followed. Only one thing mattered to them right now: escape.
Soon, another light grew closer. Sammy recognized Jack’s little haven in the wall where he worked. Sprinting past it, they leaped out of the sewers and made a dash for the stairs that led into the infirmary and out of the sewers.
Sammy’s relief only lasted a moment. Jack and him slewed to a halt, staring in horror.
The stairs were completely blocked. Stacks of wooden beams and heavy pipes dripping with ink had all been piled high in front. It would take ages to free themselves
“How did…” Jack paused for breath, “How did they do this?”
Sammy had no response. There was none. Ink monsters, in theory, shouldn’t have been capable of trapping them like this. Sammy’s knowledge on the subject may have been limited, but he’d have thought that much was true. He was wrong.
“What are we going to do?” Jack shrieked, “We’re trapped! We can’t get help! Susie’s still lost somewhere in there! We...We’re going to die down here!”
Sammy still didn’t know how to reply, but he was saved the attempt as he heard the gurgling noises approach.
“Quick!” He shoved Jack into a small corner directly across from the stairs. It was a poor hiding place, but so long as the ink creatures didn’t think to check over here, they’d be safe.
He heard them grow closer. Jack’s breathing had grown erratic, so Sammy clapped a hand over his mouth. Ordinarily, Jack would have shoved him away, but the lyricist just remained stone still, eyes wide and terrified. Sammy imagined he wore much the same expression.
After what seemed like hours, the gurgling began to grow fainter, until it faded altogether as the ink creatures splashed back into the sewer. Sammy didn’t move for some long moments after. Jack’s shaking fingers pulled at the hand over his mouth and Sammy at last snatched his hand away. For a while, all either of them could manage were shivering breaths.
Swallowing thickly, Jack spoke at least, “What are we going to do?” He repeated his question of before.
