Tsunami

Chapter 2: Calling in Markers

As Neal entered the art gallery on Broome Street, the wooden pipe continued to play a haunting melody in his head. The modal tune drowned out the voice of the man who approached him.

But he couldn't ignore the immense octopus lying in wait. Maroon tentacles the color of coagulated blood extended up the walls and deep into the gallery. The creature's yellow eyes glared malevolently at him, drawing him closer. The tip of one tentacle began to circle his throat, stopping him in his tracks. Another tentacle snaked around his chest and slowly squeezed the air out of his lungs.

"413 West 24th Street," the voice whispered. "Come to me, Neal."

The octopus and art gallery dissolved into muddy shades of red. When the murkiness cleared, he found himself standing on the ocean floor. Sea fronds as tall as giant redwoods surrounded him. Fish darted among the vegetation. His breath escaped in tiny bubbles.

Neal shuddered when a current of water shoved him forward. He knew that ahead lay torture and death, but he was unable to resist. The music writhed around his limbs, paralyzing them. A dim light shone in the distance, but the noxious green glow brought no comfort. The water smelled of decay and rotting corpses.

A shark crossed in front of him, severing the invisible chain dragging him forward. Neal darted behind a sea frond to hide but he sensed it would be a temporary reprieve. Already he could feel the current tugging at him once more. When something nudged his foot, he jumped. Looking down, he spotted a small pink octopus with bright turquoise eyes.

"Pearl, what are you doing here?" he whispered.

"Hiding, like you," she whispered back. "Stay with me. I'll keep you safe."

He didn't want to hurt her feelings, but a midget pink octopus wouldn't be much help. "Did you see the shark?"

"Oh, that's Bruce. You needn't worry about him. He's fish-friendly."

Nice, but Neal wasn't a fish. Pearl said something else, but he couldn't hear her. Where was Marlin when he needed him? Maybe Marlin had already been captured. This was Cthulhu's realm. Was Marlin even now being tortured? Didn't Neal need to let himself be drawn to the light? If he took Marlin's place, the clownfish might be set free and he could rejoin his wife. As long as Neal was going to die, wouldn't it be better to let his death accomplish something worthwhile?

Neal relaxed and let the current claim him.

"What are you doing?" Pearl squeaked, darting alongside him. "Don't give up! I have a plan."

"The current's too strong. I can't fight it."

"Ahead is Cthulhu's realm. He'll kill you!"

Neal attempted to cling to a clump of seaweed, but the fronds broke off under the force of the torrent. The underwater turbulence had caused a vortex to form. He was being sucked into it like water down a drain. The sound of the wooden pipe grew louder.

* * * * *

Peter arrived early at work on Thursday morning. The court case on the previous day had taken longer than expected. By the time he returned to the office, Diana and Jones had already departed for Boston. Neal had also left. Peter was tempted to fly up to Boston that evening, but he resisted the urge. Jones needed the experience. If Peter were transferred to another job, Jones was the natural candidate to replace him.

Yesterday, he'd left a stack of emails waiting to be answered. He planned to work on them in the morning, but he'd barely had time to fill his FBI mug with coffee when the first call of the day arrived. Any grumpiness on the disturbance vanished when he saw the name of Doctor Jacob Nussbaum on the display. During Neal's treatment last year, Peter and Jacob had become friends. Now that he was assisting on the Victor Liu case, Peter was grateful he'd already established a comfortable working relationship with him.