Despite his old age, Craig moved fast. Within the hour, he was at the coordinates given to him by Don—just in the nick of time too, as the black device containing the coordinates ran out of power and shut off.
Craig knew he was in the right place. The black unmarked vehicles parked on the shoreline kind of gave it away. The vehicles looked damaged, but he couldn't tell for sure from a distance.
Craig's attention shifted to the makeshift tents that the vehicles surrounded. He expected there to be a whole lot of movement. If there's one thing he knew about shady bunches like this, it's that they never liked being out in broad daylight, especially not in the open like this.
Despite his experiences, Craig's expectations betrayed him, as everything was still. Shell, he didn't even hear anyone speaking. The place was dead quiet, with the only sounds being the waves softly crashing against the shore.
It also reeked. Immensely so. The smell wasn't one you'd expect from the ocean—It was more like the smell of rotten or spoiled flesh.
Craig hid behind a tree near the sandy beach for what felt like hours, waiting for some indication that whoever was behind his granddaughters' squidnapping was still around. Unfortunately, he never got such indication.
Eventually, he grew tired of waiting and cautiously moved from cover to the tents and cars. Craig raised his weapon, expecting a fight. What he got was far worse.
Upon nearing the scene, he realized the ocean wasn't the source of the rotten smell that bombarded his nose. Strewn across the beach were corpses of various inklings. Their clothes and body parts were horribly shredded, and severed tentacled limbs were scattered everywhere. Some of the inklings' bodies were so terribly disfigured that they were beyond recognition.
"Wow. I haven't seen anything this gruesome since the siege of Arowana Castle..." Craig commented, hobbling his way through the sea of corpses. There didn't seem to be any survivors. The worst part about the scene was that the bodies were fresh, very fresh. And not in the good way either. Craig guessed they weren't even a full twenty-four hours old.
Whatever killed them didn't do it through the use of an ink-weapon. Otherwise, Craig would've seen puddles of ink rather than fleshy remains.
Dread set in on the old inkling as the possibility of him finding the corpses of his granddaughters' entered his mind. He desperately hoped that whatever or whoever attacked these people didn't touch his girls.
After thoroughly searching through the carnage, he found good and bad news. The good news was Callie and Marie were not among the casualties. The bad news was they were not here, neither was any sign that they had been in the first place.
Just as Craig contemplated what to do next, something shifted within a pile of corpses. He whipped his bamboozler up and aimed at the source of movement.
"C...ommander....is....that....you...?" a weak voice mumbled from the pile of bodies, barely conscious.
Craig approached the figure, seeing it was a male inkling with yellow hair. Surprisingly, they were still breathing, but they were severely injured.
Without wasting any time, Craig moved with speed not fit for someone his age and gathered the necessary supplies to patch up the dying youngster. He collected everything he needed from the corpses and cars, then carefully moved the survivor into one of the tents.
Craig did everything to ensure the man's wounds wouldn't take him from this world—not from the kindness of his hearts, mind you. No, of course not. He was probably the one responsible for the squidnapping of his granddaughters, and if not, he was definitely a part of the group who were. By that logic, he was also the only one who could tell Craig what happened here and where his girls could've possibly gone.
After a few minutes, the youngster woke up, staring at Craig with a confused expression. "C-commander Eeli?"
Craig shook his head. "Try again, bucko."
The man rubbed his eyes and stared back at Craig, only to get startled and jump back. "W-who are you?!" He shouted, putting on a brave face. Craig saw right through him, as despite what his body language suggested, he sounded more afraid than angry.
"I'll be the one askin' the questions here." Craig aimed his bamboozler right at the thug, and his face contorted into a fearful look as he realized his weapon wasn't on him. "Now, go ahead and answer the question you just asked me."
The thug stammered over his words before clearing his throat. "B-Brooke! Brooke Finster! S-sir!" He revealed, caving in rather quickly.
For a criminal, this youngin' sure is green. "Alright then, Brooke, my boy. Tell me, what were ya doin' out here at shore?"
"M-me? Nothing, sir!"
"Really? Seems like an awful lot of y'all to be out here doin' nothing."
"We were just moving cargo!" Brooke blurted.
Craig squinted. "Live cargo?" He said with a low scowl in his tone. Brooke didn't respond, telling Craig everything he needed to know. "Well, now that I know that, tell me this. Were the kids you captured the winners of that youthfolk singing contest?"
Brooke flinched. "How do you know all that?" He said, inadvertently answering Craig's question.
"Blast!" Craig's anger flared up at the unintentional confirmation.
Brooke immediately covered his face and turned away from the angry elder. "P-please don't hurt me! I-I-I was just following orders! I never wanted to squidnap a bunch of children! I-In fact, I voted against it! But I'm just a grunt. My words don't weigh a whole lot in this group..."
I can tell. The thug was a bit too soft for Craig's taste. He didn't seem cut out for this type of life, so he believed Brooke to some degree. "Quit your whining. I'm not gonna splat you... yet." Brooke gulped as Craig pulled out a chair, sitting down while still aiming his bamboozler at the thug's head.
"Now, make this easy and tell me, where are the girls?" Upon hearing this question, Brooke fell silent and looked down at his hands. Craig noticed him trembling. "Well?"
Brooke clenched his hands into fists, still looking downward. "It took them."
"It?" Craig looked towards the tent's entrance, seeing a glimpse of the gory scene through the slit opening. "Are you talking about the person who killed your crew?"
"That thing wasn't a person!" Brooke said, both terrified and angry.
"Then what was it?"
"You think I know? If I knew things like that existed, I never would've come out here!" Brooke hugged himself. "It came from the sea. I... I don't know what drew it to us, but it started ripping us to shreds. Cod, I watched it eat Pierce alive... IT ATE HIM ALIVE MAN!" He covered his face as if trying to shield himself from the horrific mental images he was no doubt thinking about.
"Doesn't sound like you thugs are the real deal. I mean, who tries to fight something they don't understand without spawn points?"
"We had spawn points," Brooke corrected. "We had a few of our vehicles outfitted with spawning pads. It destroyed them."
"Hold on there." Craig leaned forward, now confused and concerned. "You're telling me this mystery monster was intelligent enough to destroy your spawn points first before going after y'all?"
Brooke nodded. "Whatever that thing was, it was smart. But... I guess not smart enough." He lowered his hands, revealing the tired look on his face. "I was hit pretty bad, but I didn't die. Nothing we did could kill it, and we couldn't outrun it either. So I figured maybe if I played dead, I'd survive."
Craig raised a brow. "Survive with those wounds? Not likely. If I hadn't come and patched ya up, you would've bled out long before you made it to any pocket of civilization. Especially through this wilderness."
"I wasn't trying to survive my injuries. Just the monster," Brooke stated, letting out a heavy sigh. "I saw Oko—I mean, my commander, flee earlier. He took a car the second that thing showed up and fled while the rest of us fought. I thought he was going to come back with reinforcements..."
Craig felt a little bad, seeing the thug had some faith in his superiors. He hated when men of any kind left behind their own. Even so, he couldn't take his mind off the goal at hand.
"Well, considering you're here tellin' me this, your idea clearly worked. You said it took those girls, right?"
Brooke frowned. "It did. I assume you want to know where?" Craig silently stared at him. "I have no idea why a monster would want two little squids to begin with, so I couldn't tell you where it was taking them. But I can tell you the direction it went in."
"No, that's quite alright." Craig stood up. "You're gonna lead the way."
"What?!" Brooke scooted away from Craig. "Are you crazy?! Did you not hear a thing I said about that monster?"
"I did, and I don't care."
"Why are you so obsessed with those two kids?"
"That's none of your concern, bucko."
"I think it's quite my concern! Face it, those two are probably already dead!"
"We won't know until we look."
"You're saying we, but I'm not going! That thing will kill us both if we go!"
"And I'm gonna kill you if we don't." Craig nudged the barrel of his bamboozler a little closer to Brooke's head. "Pick your poison, youngster."
Brooke stared up at Craig with shaky eyes. After a short stare-down, he sighed. "Can I at least bring my blaster...?" Craig couldn't help but chuckle.
The young inkling clearly wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. Otherwise, he'd know Craig couldn't kill him since he had the information he needed. Plus, it was almost too easy to get answers out of Brooke, especially considering Craig never tied him up. Not to mention the fact that he was being threatened by a frail-looking old man with a relatively weak sniper, and yet still made no moves to attack or run.
Based on all this, Craig didn't see why he couldn't allow Brooke to carry his weapon. He was submissive enough not to try anything funny, and even if he did, Craig was confident in his abilities to handle him. "Sure, but make it quick. We leave in five."