Disclaimer: This story was written weeks before Hurricane Irma, so any similarities to it are coincidental.

Comments and criticism are welcome, but please don't be toxic/harmful.

Cyrus Legoria was laying on his bed, in his ramshackle bedroom. A dusty old boom box at the foot of his bed was playing Alphaville's "Next Generation", and the air outside was thick with the cawing of seabirds and the crashing of waves against metal, wood, and concrete. Cyrus was still recovering from his hangover from last night. He was unable to remember who challenged him to that drinking game, but he knew the other guy won. Fortunately, he had a friend bring him back home; he couldn't bear to rest at the bar.

Cyrus was a man of thirty-seven. He was wearing torn black pants, knee-pads, brown boots, fingerless gloves, a dark brown leather vest with "M.P.D." written on the back, and a pale blue collared shirt with short sleeves underneath. The shirt had a circular patch on the shoulder, reading "The City of Miami" at the top, "Police" at the bottom, and the image of a palm tree and the words "Incorporated 1896" in the middle. He had shaggy dirty blond hair, a rugged face with dark green eyes, and a long, thin scar on his left cheek, which he received during a raid by Caribbean mercenaries. Cyrus always kept a Browning Hi-Power holstered on his belt in case they ever came back.

Cyrus climbed out of bed, and looked out the window. He saw Miami Beach, or what was left of it. His bedroom was on the twenty-ninth floor of the Ocean's Rest Hotel & Resort. The first twenty-three floors were submerged beneath the waves of the Atlantic Ocean, so the only way out of the building without swimming through multiple fathoms of seawater was a either a series of narrow walkways starting from the twenty-fourth floor or a makeshift ramp extending from the twenty-fifth floor landing of the hotel's fire escape to the roof of a nearby pawnshop, which was almost completely drowned by the sea.

A slightly battered police boat was docked near the pawnshop's roof. This was Cyrus' main, if not sole, form of transportation in and out of the area. Only a few people dared to still live in this part of the city. Not only because of the sea slowly rising up to consume the buildings, but also because of the attacks that had been launched against Miami in the past couple years. Pirates, marauders, killer sharks (there were many around those parts), and the sea-creatures of Professor Zorndyke.

There was a knock on the door behind Cyrus.

"Come in!" he called over his shoulder.

The door opened, and a tall Black man wearing an unbuttoned orange Hawaiian shirt, a muddy tank top, sea-drenched khakis and velcro sandals walked inside. He had a slim build, and long dreadlocks that were tied back behind his head.

"Trey." Cyrus chuckled unevenly, as he turned to face his guest. "So how've you been doing?"

"Damn good, Cy." said Trey. "But I gotta say...you look like crap."

"I've looked worse." groaned Cyrus, fingering the gash on his cheek. "So what's up?"

Trey sighed.

"Listen, I think we got a problem."

"What kind of problem?"

"A big-ass Type-Z problem. Rockefeller told me that one of 'em Musucas just washed ashore on an isle just South of here, in the Keys. It might've had passengers. I say we better check it out in case any survivors come this way."

Musucas were the gigantic whale-like creatures that served as the vessels of Zorndyke's navy. They were known for their ability to fire sonic blasts at enemy ships. They could also transport up to a dozen Kumos, the crustacean-like mechs that Zorndyke's creatures used in combat. Except they hadn't been seen in this part of the world in months. Not since the Antarctic War from seven months ago.

"A Musuca, huh?" Cyrus mumbled. "Well, we better check it out. Where's Rockefeller now? Maybe he could give us a lift."

"He's out on patrol with Rick." said Trey. "Can you get the boat started?"

"Yeah, yeah." mumbled Cyrus.

He reached under his bed, and pulled out an Ingram MAC-11 and an Heckler & Koch MP5, giving the latter to Trey. Trey loaded and cocked it, while Cyrus did the same with his own firearm.

"So is it just the two of us?" asked Cyrus.

"Yeah." said Trey. "The others are too busy partying their asses off downtown."

"Then we'll have to make this quick." said Cyrus. "The less time we're in the Keys, the better. Especially with what's waiting for us out there."

The two went downstairs, got onto the police boat, and sped down the flooded beach. The wind was chilly and blowing in their hair, and the sky was a vibrant blue color. They went on until they were out of Miami's city limits. They looked back at the ruined city, reflecting on how much it had changed since Zorndyke flooded it. This wouldn't be the first time they thought about this, nor would it be the last.

After a few hours, they were finally in the Florida Keys. By the time they reached the Musuca, the Sun was already sinking westwards. The great leviathan of the sea lay a torn, bloody mess across the shore. Its gray bulk was the size of a battleship, and its flippers and tail were reaching into the water.

"Wow…" Trey muttered. "What happened here?"

"Dunno." said Cyrus. "Let's check to see if any of the passengers made it."

The two men approached the Musuca's vast carcass, and towards the crevices in the sides of its body.

"Look!" Trey shouted, pointing his submachine gun near the top of the Musuca.

A bestial figure was crawling out of it, audibly gasping for air. It staggered to stand upright, but collapsed and slid down the Musuca to the shore. It hit the ground with a sickening crack.

Trey walked up to it, still aiming his gun. The creature was a large humanoid, muscular and covered in white fur. It had a body like a polar bear, a head like a gorilla, and orange cat eyes. By the time Trey came within arm's reach of it, the beast-man was no longer moving.

"It's dead." said Trey, mumbling. "Damn, what an ugly piece of-"

He heard a sound. There was movement above him; Another figure darted out of the Musuca on all fours.

"Contact!" Trey hollered, aiming his gun at it.

He fired a few shots at it, before Cyrus hurriedly grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Stop!" he yelled over the gunfire. "Don't…don't shoot it!"

Cyrus tugged him away, and Trey stopped shooting.

"Who the hell cares if I kill it or not? Last time they were in Florida, they were doing the same to us!"

"Because if you kill it, we won't know what happened here." growled Cyrus. "There's something very screwed-up about all this. I'm going to try and find where the creature went. You look for any other survivors. And for the love of Christ, don't go blasting any of them unless they attack you first."

"Whatever." Trey scoffed.

Cyrus looked out into the shade of the Musuca's husk, and saw two points of red light looking right at him. Cyrus drew out his own gun, and approached the Musuca. Trey went around the other side, waving his gun around. He didn't hear anything except for his own feet crunching against the sand and the waves crashing against the shore.

He looked at the Musuca and remembered the last time he saw one. He closed his eyes, and started to sweat. He sniffed the air, and it was absolutely rancid. Then he heard a sound. This time, it came from his left. From the water.

"…the hell is that?"

Cyrus searched the sand around the Musuca. As he walked, he heard groaning noises. He looked around uneasily for the source of the noises. Just then, a scaly arm rose from under the sand, and seized Cyrus by the ankle. A reptilian head followed soon after.

"Help me…" moaned the lizard-man.

"What happened here?" Cyrus asked him, even as he pulled his leg out of the creature's grasp.

"They came…from...above." the creature answered.

"Who did?" Cyrus asked.

The lizard-man made no response. Cyrus quickly tried digging him out of the sand.

"Who did?! Who...damn it!"

The creature was dead, just like the first.

"Oh, for God's sake!" growled Cyrus.

He looked around.

"Is there anyone left alive?" he shouted at the sky. "Anything left at all?!"

He continued looking around. Night had finally fallen. He had just about given up when he heard a strange noise, like an eerie song being sung by a woman. The noise came from the spot where the lizard-man lay half-buried in the sand. Cyrus went back to the spot with his gun out.

Suddenly, the two red lights re-appeared just a few feet before him. Now Cyrus could see that the lights were eyes, and that they belonged to a small, slim figure that was kneeling down over the lizard-man's corpse. It lifted its knees out of the sand, and turned to leave.

"Wait! Don't go!" said Cyrus.

The stranger stayed put, but didn't change direction.

"Please come here."

The stranger shook its head.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. I only want to-."

It slowly crept away some more. Cyrus started to follow.

"What...happened here?" he asked. "Who attacked you?"

The red-eyed stranger said nothing.

"What happened here?" Cyrus asked again. "C'mon!"

The stranger sharply turned its head towards the Musuca, and footsteps could be heard. The stranger darted away into the gloom with a small hiss.

"Hey! Wait!" Cyrus yelled after it. "Get back here! Please! I just wanna talk to you!"

But it was too late. The stranger disappeared. Cyrus saw the silhouette of Trey sprinting towards him.

"Cyrus! Cyrus!" Trey yelled.

"What?" Cyrus replied, still looking in the dark for the strange creature.

"We got company."

"Walsh?"

"No." said Trey. "Armando's boys."

Cyrus swore under his breath.

"How many?"

"Twenty or thirty." said Trey. "And they're all armed to the teeth."

"Then we better get out of here!"

Armando was a high-ranking member of the Riptides, one of the many bands of marauders that ravaged the Gulf region of the United States. The Riptides in particular were not only the most numerous and well-armed, but also the most hostile. Cyrus heard rumors that they were plotting to invade Miami soon. They were surely their scouts.

"Check it out!" they heard a voice yell from around the corner. "I think it's our lucky day, boys! Let's see if Moby Dick here's got something worthwhile."

"Spread out!" said another voice. "We don't want anyone getting in our way. And check for survivors, too."

Cyrus and Trey crept back towards the police boat under the cover of darkness. The beach was now infested with men armed with assault rifles and machine guns, all with flashlights mounted on the barrels. Three gunboats were beached, while five or six others were waiting just off the shore, and there were already four men at the police boat, searching it for cargo.

"Damn!" Trey muttered. "Guess we should get back to the Musuca."

"Wait..." said Cyrus. "Look!"

Two of the men were dragging what appeared to be a large bull-headed Chimeran body out of the Musuca. The creature was still alive, and struggling to break free. Its attempts ended when a Riptide put a Desert Eagle to its head and pulled the trigger, discharging a .44 Magnum bullet directly into the man-beast's cranium. The muzzle flash illuminated both the creature and its killer, and the gunshot echoed across the beach. At that same moment, a smaller figure emerged from the far side of the Musuca and darted into the water before any of the men noticed. Before Cyrus or Trey could react, a spotlight from one of the Riptides' vessels came down on them.

"No witnesses!" shouted a voice on a megaphone. "Shoot them!"

There was gunfire all around them. They threw themselves onto the sand, and started shooting back at the Riptides. Trey shot the spotlight so that it couldn't track their movements. Cyrus fired his MAC-11 at the men around the police boat, mowing them down with ease.

"Let's go!" Cyrus yelled over the sounds of battle.

Cyrus and Trey got back up, and sprinted towards the boat, with the rest of the Riptides still firing at them. A bullet narrowly grazed Cyrus' thigh, but the adrenaline in him made him ignore it. Trey dove into the boat, and Cyrus followed suit.

The police boat sped away from the site of the beached Musuca, but the gunboats of the Riptides still pursued them.

"What the hell are the Riptides doing here, anyway?!" yelled Cyrus over the roar of the engine.

"The hell I should know!" Trey shouted back. "Maybe they thought they'd be getting more weapons from that Musuca."

A burst of gunfire issued forth from the gunboat nearest to them, and Cyrus stood up again to shoot back. He aimed his gun at them.

"Eat it, you bastards!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, before opening fire on the enemy vessel.

Just then, his gun jammed on him.

"Son of a-"

"Look out!" Trey yelled, as he hastily steered the boat away from a large rock jutting out of the water.

Cyrus quickly lost his balance, mostly due to the jolt of pain in his thigh, and fell overboard.

"Cy!" Trey looked back in horror.

He wanted to steer around and pick up Cyrus, but the Riptides were already closing in on him. If he stopped or tried to turn, the boat would be shredded by their bullets. He had to come back later, whether Cyrus was still alive or not.

"Sorry, man." he said, reaching for the walkie-talkie under the steering wheel.

Cyrus crashed into the depths of the ocean. By the time he resurfaced, the police boat was speeding away from him, but so were the gunboats. He was all alone out there. He tried to swim towards the rock, but the tide was against him, and he had neither the strength nor the stamina to fight it. He found himself sinking back into the black abyss of the Atlantic. Alone.

Or perhaps not.

Just as Cyrus' vision began to blur, he could make out a shape, coming straight at him. Cyrus strained his eyes to see what was approaching. It was a Hammerhead shark. It was closing in on him, its mouth slowly opening.

"Damn..." he thought, as he struggled to swim away.

Then came a series of ripples in the water. They hit the shark, and then Cyrus. He could hear what sounded like a garbled high-pitched screech. A screech so brief, but so intense, that it made him freeze up. The shark swam away from him, disappearing into the dark. But now something else was coming towards him. It was a vaguely humanoid shape, swimming quickly towards him. As the shape came closer, it became luminous and white. And there were those glowing red eyes again. Cyrus lost consciousness.

In the skies above, a red-and-white CH-53K King Stallion helicopter that once belonged to the United States Coast Guard was circling over the chase between Trey's police boat and the Riptide gunboats. The doors were open, and a man was aiming down through the night-vision scope of his SR-25 rifle at the Riptides.

"Damn, look at all of 'em." said the sniper.

"C'mon, Campbell! You got 'em or what?" buzzed the voice of Trey, from the headset that Campbell was wearing. "If you do, quit fooling around and shoot them!"

"Well, maybe if you'd stop trying to swerve away from them, then maybe I'd be able to line up my shots."

Campbell slowly zoomed in on the pilots of the gunboats, and picked them off one at a time.

BANG! BANG!

"Hot damn!" Campbell hollered as he fired the shots.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Jesus, man!" said Campbell, called to the pilot. "I blew that last guy's head clean off! Did you see that, Rockefeller?"

"Yeah, I saw it!" said Rockefeller, shouting over the chopper's engine. "I bet his buddies are crapping themselves right now!"

"And they should be!" said Campbell. "They should know better than to screw around my turf!"

BANG! BANG! CLICK!

"Aw, nuts!" said Campbell, as he reloaded his rifle. "Last magazine. Gotta make it count..."

"What the hell are you shooting them with? BB pellets?!" yelled Trey's voice. "Break out that Cuban gun already!"

"Fine...fine." said Campbell.

He set the sniper rifle against a rack on the wall, opened a compartment above, and brought out a larger rifle: a Mambi AMR. He loaded and cocked the weapon, and then steadily aimed it through a scope at the gunboat nearest to Trey's boat. There was a deafening BAM! that echoed through the chilly night air. Campbell shook from the recoil of the blast, but was able to watch as the gunboat was ruptured in the middle, and a pillar of water shot up. The boat sank into the Atlantic.

BAM!

Another gunboat was blasted to pieces. Campbell was shaking all over. The only reason why he was still able to keep using the gun was pure adrenaline. He hollered excitedly as he fired a third shot.

It was a while before Cyrus came to, coughing and hacking to get the saltwater out of his system. Once he stopped, he saw that it was very dark, and the stars were out. Not only that, but someone was stooping over him.

"Trey?" Cyrus groaned, rubbing his eyes.

But it wasn't Trey at all. It was a girl. But even in the darkness, Cyrus could tell that this wasn't an ordinary girl. She was relatively small compared to Cyrus, though that's probably because she was kneeling. She had large catlike ears, tipped feet that had no toes, fins on her arms that were slowly shrinking, and glowing red eyes, but the rest of her was still obscured in darkness. Cyrus knew that it was one of Zorndyke's creatures, and cautiously groped his sea-drenched belt for the holstered pistol until he felt its grip. The creature didn't show any signs of movement, so he took his hand off the gun.

"So it looks like...either I'm still intoxicated, or I've got a guardian angel…" said Cyrus. "Or should I say…'mermaid'?"

Cyrus stirred a little. The fish-girl said nothing, and crept aside to give him space.

"You're the one from the Musuca." Cyrus said, sitting himself back up. "The one that survived. And you eluded the Riptides, even when me and Trey couldn't. Clever girl. Thanks for getting me out of the water."

The creature still said nothing, and merely nodded her head.

"So..." said Cyrus. "I guess we'll have that talk, after all."

"Hmmmm…" the mermaid approached him cautiously.

Cyrus stood up and backed away a little.

"Hey, easy now." said Cyrus, raising a hand and shaking his head. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

The fish-girl stopped crawling towards him. She stayed still in a bow-legged pose.

"Just hang right there. I wanna get a close look at you."

He walked up to her, but she quickly backed away.

"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you." said Cyrus.

He leaned forward and extended his hand, bending the fingers back in a beckoning manner. The fish-girl came closer. Now that more stars were becoming visible in the sky, Cyrus could make out more of the mermaid's features. She had a thin, delicate-looking build, with chalk-white skin on the head and torso, and yellow-and-black patterns on her arms, ears, temples, and legs, and pink wing-like appendages hanging from her collar. Her head had an egg-shaped cranium and long silver hair that was white in the middle. She had a black diamond-shaped pattern on her bangs, which extended down her forehead in a broad widow's peak. Her eyes were round, bulbous, and had heavy red eyelids. She had a youthful appearance, and a nearly emotionless face that made it hard to tell exactly how she was feeling.

"There you go." grinned Cyrus. "It's okay."

Then he heard raised voices in the distance, and turned around. It was one of the Riptides' gunboats; a straggler, evidently.

"Crap!" Cyrus turned to his aquatic companion. "Get down!"

He turned and tackled the fish-girl against the rock, making her gasp in surprise. Then he rolled off of her so that he wouldn't pin her to the rocky surface.

"Be quiet." he whispered to her, pulling out his Browning Hi-Power. "There's dangerous men out there."

He flicked the safety on his pistol, crept over the edge of the rock, and looked out at the gunboat. Its spotlight was scanning the waters for something.

"They must be looking for my body." Cyrus muttered, half to himself and half to the mermaid. Then he added: "…or for you."

The mermaid was shaking in fear, and whimpered.

"Cool it." whispered Cyrus. "Listen, the men on that gunboat could kill us both if we're not careful. Maybe if we stay quiet, they'll pass us by."

The spotlight swept back and forth across the rock three times.

"But then again, that boat's probably my only way back; I doubt even you could haul me all the way back to Miami. I've got a plan."

The mermaid was looking at him with a confused expression on her face.

"You know how to fight, don't you?"

She nodded.

"Then I need you to dive into the water and get rid of that boat's crewmen."

Her eyes widened, and now she was looking at Cyrus as though he had declared himself to be criminally insane.

"Don't worry, I'll provide some covering fire for you." he assured her, showing her his pistol before pointing at the boat. "They'll be too occupied with me to notice you. See that turret in the back? If you can get to it, you can probably shoot the others before they even figure out that you're there. Just make it quick; I won't last long if they get that thing into position."

The gunboat's searchlight was now sweeping across the face of the rock.

"We have no time to lose. Ready? Go!"

The mermaid leaped into the water. Cyrus sprang up to his feet, and hollered before firing two bullets at the gunboat. One of them hit the searchlight, blinding the gunboat on his side. The men on the boat fired back at him with submachine guns and assault rifles, but fortunately they missed in the darkness. Cyrus jumped side-to-side shooting at the boat while scanning the water for his new partner to emerge. And she did. She climbed on the boat from the far side, grabbed one of the men by his legs, and then hurled him overboard.

Then she grabbed his AK-102 assault rifle, and smashed it into the head of another Riptide gunman operating the DShK machine gun turret. She huddled behind the turret, visibly struggling to move it in place. The Riptides saw what she was doing, and opened fire. In a panic, she crouched down and pulled the trigger. The gun vibrated madly in her grip as a stream of projectiles tore through the remaining Riptides on the boat. She kept firing, until the recoil overwhelmed her and she had to let go. She looked at her hands, then at the corpses of the men she shot. Even though he was several yards away, Cyrus could tell that the fish-girl was less than thrilled at what she just did.

He jumped into the water, and swam furiously towards the boat, and climbed aboard. The mermaid was still standing there, looking at her hands. He put his weapon away and approached her.

"You did good, girl." he said, reaching to put a hand on the mermaid's shoulder.

"You...bitch!" screamed a voice.

There was a gunshot, and the mermaid howled in pain. She was clutching a bloody arm, sobbing madly. Cyrus took his Hi-Power back out, turned around, and saw that the man that the mermaid had thrown overboard had climbed back onto the boat, and was pointing a smoking Bersa Thunder 32. Cyrus felt the blood in the back of his head boil. His face twisted with a growl, and a feral rage overtook him.

"No! Goddamn you!"

Cyrus aimed his own gun at the man, and fired two shots into him, knocking his body back into the water.

"How dare you?!" he snarled, panting heavily. "Shooting an unarmed enemy while their back is turned?"

He leaned over the edge of the boat, and emptied the rest of his gun's magazine into the man, even as his corpse lay floating in the water.

"You..."

BANG!

"...filthy..."

BANG!

"...coward!"

BANG! BANG! BANG! CLICK! CLICK!

Then he spat into the water, turned around, and hurried over to help the fish-girl.

"Are you okay?" asked Cyrus. Then when he saw the wound, he said: "Oh my god, I'm sorry! This is my fault. I shouldn't have made you do this!"

Then he heard the sounds of a helicopter passing overhead. He looked up, and saw a spotlight beaming down on him. Then he turned to face the mermaid, who was now rolling around gnashing her teeth. He steadily waited for the right moment to grab her, and put pressure on her arm.

"Shh…it's all right." whispered Cyrus. "Relax, and I can help you."

The mermaid was shaking as though she were having a seizure, and was trying to flail away from Cyrus.

"Please relax." Cyrus whispered. "You could make the wound worse if you don't calm down!"

The mermaid refused to stop, and was struggling to break free. Cyrus tightened his grip on her arm.

"Calm down! Look!" he pointed at her wound. "You're fine! You're going to be fine. Now for God's sake, calm down!"

He lightly slapped her across the face to make her come to her senses. She whimpered, but stopped shaking and flailing. Her tear-drenched eyes widened, and gazed into Cyrus'.

"Look." Cyrus pointed at the wound again. "Your wound doesn't look too serious, but you need to let me help you, or it might get infected. That helicopter up there can take us back to my place, where I can heal your arm. Do you understand?"

She nodded, before looking up. The helicopter was descending on them now. Cyrus saw that Campbell and Trey were leaning out the door, looking at him.

"Hey! Hey!" yelled Cyrus, waving his arms frantically. "Down here! We need help!"

Trey jumped out of the helicopter, between Cyrus and the mermaid, who squirmed backwards and clutched her arm.

"You get away from him!" he yelled angrily as he pointed a gun at the mermaid, before turning to check on Cyrus. "Cy, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, but she's hurt!" Cyrus yelled at him. "We need to get her onto the helicopter."

"Are you still drunk?" Trey countered, lowering the gun. "Don't you know what that is? That's one of the nereids. She's one of Zorndyke's monsters!"

"And she just helped me!" Cyrus told him. "That's right, she saved my life. If it weren't for her, I would've been swallowed up by the ocean, eaten by sharks, or gunned down by these assholes. She's the one from the Musuca. The one you almost shot!"

Trey looked at the nereid, who was still clutching her wounded arm, and narrowed his eyes. He pointed the gun back at the nereid.

"Trey! No!" yelled Cyrus, frantically.

The nereid closed her eyes and whimpered as Trey pulled the trigger. He fired several bullets in the nereid's direction, until the MP5's magazine was empty.

"What the...?"

Cyrus stood with his mouth gaping open when he realized the bullets didn't hit the nereid, but a man that had gotten up behind her. Cyrus recognized him as the gunner that she knocked out earlier. Trey held up his gun, and blew on the smoking barrel.

"Fine. We patch and clean her up, then she gets the hell out of here…or else."

He waved his gun threateningly at the nereid, even while Cyrus went over to help her.

"Fish! You can come with us! Now get your sorry ass on the chopper, or I'll put you out of your misery right here!" he barked to her.

The creature hissed at him, but Cyrus patted her on the head.

"We don't have time to argue." he told her. "Let's get you aboard."

Campbell reached out of the helicopter, and helped Cyrus, and then the nereid. He paused and looked at her.

"Whoa..."

"Move it!" yelled Trey, as he climbed onto the helicopter.