SurvivorZ: Grave Harbor

19

LLOYD

Since there wasn't much else to do while they waited for the undead queen to lay her eggs in their cadaverous "fishing bait," Lloyd decided to engage Doctor Mueller in an intellectual discussion. Not surprisingly, they reached an impasse in record time.

"We're not calling it that," she declared flatly.

"It's a perfectly good name," he insisted. "And at least people will remember it, unlike yours. Who speaks Latin anymore?"

"Absolutely not," Norah insisted. "I refuse to call that creature down the hall an arch-vile. What does that even mean?"

"It's a monster from Doom 3. Don't blame me if they look alike."

She stared at him, her brows lowering further by the second.

Lloyd sighed with exasperation. "Doom 3. It's a videogame. You play it."

"We're not naming the most important scientific discovery of our age after a videogame character."

"No offense, doc, but you're hardly one to come up with the best names for things," he argued. "I mean, how could you not spot 'Z-Off' from a mile away?"

Norah growled with frustration under her gritted teeth, but didn't respond. Lloyd took her silence for the win.

She curled up on her side of the elevator and closed her eyes. He gave the unsociable scientist her space. She was probably dreaming about the accolades she'd receive for her research into the arch-vile and its spider mutant babies. His thoughts were more practical. He was still wondering how much trouble he'd be in with Denise once they made it back. He wasn't looking forward to finding out.

Lloyd sighed and consulted his watch. Two minutes had passed since the last time he checked it. Until now, after staring at the same four walls of their enclosure for the past forty-five minutes, he never realized just how boring fishing could be.

"What do you think?" he asked. "Do you suppose it's time to reel it in?"

Norah checked her Timex and nodded. "Okay. Let's see what we've got."

They stood up together. Lloyd waited until she was ready with a good grip on the rope caught between the elevator doors. He pressed the button. The doors slid open, releasing the slack line in her hands. They exchanged glances and nervous gulps.

She tugged on the rope. From somewhere in the impenetrable darkness, the bell on the other end jingled. Lloyd pressed a hand to the door to keep it from closing and shot her a look.

"What's the plan for recovering the head?" he whispered. "That bell is only going to bring the arch-vile running again."

Her expression pinched. He couldn't tell if it was a reaction to the name or because of the hiccup in her plan.

"I made the knot loose so the bell would slip out," she said softly. "Honestly, I thought it would've fallen off before now."

She snapped the rope like a whip. The bell chimed again. Norah's frown deepened. She tried a third time. Same result. She shrugged. There was no choice. If dragging their prize across the floor didn't shake the noisemaker loose, there was nothing they could do about it from here.

Norah gave the rope a sharp tug. The cranium on the other end held for the briefest of moments, before pulling free of the hardened muck rooting it in place. Down the darkened corridor, they heard it hit the ground with a wet splat and a clang of the metal clapper. The guttural growl of the arch-vile echoed from the blackness soon after.

She pulled the line in quick jerks and whip snaps, trying to shake off the bell while reeling it in. It banged and rattled, but showed no signs of falling off.