A Mermaid’s Guide to Survival in the Apocalypse – CH9

Chapter 9: His Gill Slits Open

Xia Yu could not feel the bottom beneath his feet, and for a terrifying second, he forgot how to swim.

Thanks to his jellyfish DNA, gliding through water had always come naturally to him. Back at the institute, the happiest moments of his life had been during water-mobility tests. Now, that same instinct was the only thing keeping them alive.

Mo An really had been warning them.

Xia Yu swallowed a mouthful of murky wastewater, gagging on the foul, chemical sludge.

On the concrete walkway, the swarm of leeches writhed toward the ledge at shocking speed. They did not crawl around blindly like common pests. Instead, they moved with unified purpose, as though guided by a shared, predatory mind.

“Help! I’m slipping!” Mi Dou cried out, thrashing his arms and legs in wild panic.

The bear mutant could barely keep his head above the surface. Water rushed into his mouth, making him choke and cough violently.

Behind him, the heavy egg strapped to his back began to twist and thrash.

The movement was unmistakable: the developing merboy was in agony.

Mo An’s umbilical cords still anchored him to the inner wall of the shell. While the fluid inside the egg was clean, mineral-rich seawater, the surrounding liquid outside had turned toxic. For a deep-sea creature born in the pristine ocean trench, being dragged through raw municipal sewage felt suffocating.

His ear-fins pressed flat against his skull, refusing to flare. His pale cyan fingers clawed restlessly against the inner membrane, as if trying to push away the foul stench seeping through the shell. Unlike human hands, his fingers were tipped with sharp claws, connected by thin, pale blue webbing.

Through the cloudy water, Mo An caught the blurry outline of the little jellyfish.

Xia Yu had not let go. He was kicking with every scrap of energy in his small body.

Towing another boy and a heavy egg through a fast-moving current was far more brutal than paddling in a calm laboratory pool. The opposite ledge was barely two meters away, yet it felt as distant as another world. The current dragged at their limbs, threatening to rip them apart if their grip slipped for even a second.

“Hold on to me… don’t let go…” Xia Yu gasped, only to swallow another dirty wave.

Mi Dou was slipping under repeatedly. Xia Yu rolled onto his back, kicking his legs like flippers while locking both hands around Mi Dou’s wrist.

A jellyfish doesn’t sink.

Jellyfish float.

He repeated the words like a prayer.

On the walkway above, the horror reached its peak.

The man’s lower body was gone, leaving only his torso, arms, and head propped up against the wall.

“Hahaha… Where did my eyes go? I can’t see anything!” the man cackled, his voice pitched high and hollow with madness. “I won’t be at the bottom anymore… eat it all! Take whatever you want… hehehe…”

It was as if something bottomless inside him were hollowing him out from the core. His face caved inward as jagged, bloody holes tore through his cheeks. He sank into the floor like melting wax as muscle, bone, and fat dissolved into a writhing mass of parasites.

They boiled out of every opening—spilling from his nostrils, ears, mouth, and empty eye sockets. Soon, nothing of the man remained. A living carpet of slick, dark red leeches surged across the stone ledge, pouring toward the water’s edge.

Xia Yu’s thoughts went cold with pure dread.

He could picture them latching onto his arms and neck, burrowing into his ears and nose, chewing through his veins and crawling toward his skull.

He had just watched a living human being eaten hollow by parasites living under his own skin.

Panic threatened to freeze him solid. Desperate to snap out of it, Xia Yu clamped his teeth down hard on his tongue.

The bite did not hurt, but the pressure cleared the haze from his mind.

“Mi Dou, kick! Kick your feet!”

Xia Yu rolled back over, paddling furiously. Whatever those vile creatures were, he refused to let them die down here. Power Plant Number Three was ahead. They would be safe there.

Safe.

Safe.

Just reach the wall.

His head bumped against solid concrete.

The opposite bank. They had crossed the channel.

Xia Yu reached out with one hand, grabbing the slick lip of the ledge. He slipped back into the current twice before finally dragging his dripping torso onto dry ground.

He spun around to pull Mi Dou up, and his heart dropped.

The leeches on the other side had reached the edge. Dozens of them were plunging into the flow.

They could swim.

Cold despair washed over him. He had thought the channel would form a barrier, but the parasites were slicing through the water like tiny red needles.

“Mi Dou, grab my hand! Hurry!”

Xia Yu hauled Mi Dou onto the concrete with all the strength left in his arms. The egg trailed behind, its sodden sleeve still knotted in Mi Dou’s grip.

Mi Dou doubled over, coughing up foul water. Before the boy could catch his breath, Xia Yu grabbed his face, forcing him to look into his eyes.

“You have to run,” Xia Yu said, his voice shaking violently. “You’re strong. Take Mo An and keep going. I’ll… I’ll stay here and slow them down!”

He was trembling from head to foot. Wang Qin had sacrificed herself so he could run; he could do the same for his friends.

Mi Dou shook his head hard, coughing so fiercely he could not form words. One hand kept a death grip on the lab coat sleeve, while the other locked onto Xia Yu’s arm.

His answer was clear: they left together, or they did not leave at all.

“I’m going to die anyway,” Xia Yu cried, tears spilling freely down his dirty cheeks. “You have to raise Mo An for me. Don’t break your promise!”

He knew what staying behind meant. Those things would hollow him out until not a single drop of blood or bone was left. It had to be agonizing. If one of them had to face that pain, he would rather bear it alone so Mi Dou and Mo An could live.

Still sobbing, Xia Yu tried to pry Mi Dou’s fingers loose and take the fabric strap. His hands were shaking so hard that he did not notice the strange vibration at first.

Then he saw Mi Dou’s arm vibrating too.

That was not the tremor of fear.

The leeches were halfway across the channel, cutting through the ripples.

Suddenly, a brilliant azure radiance flared from the center of the egg.

A vivid blue light washed over the dark tunnel. The moment their hands brushed the shell, a sharp, buzzing shock traveled up their arms, making their fingers twitch.

It felt like touching an open electrical wire.

As the light swelled, the silhouette of the young mermaid became razor sharp. They could see his curled spine, his small shoulders, and the long line of his tail. A faint crackle filled the air, like a shorted circuit spitting sparks into the damp tunnel.

Resting half-submerged in the water, the glowing egg looked like an ethereal jewel—or a small blue moon resting beneath the surface. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and utterly lethal.

Xia Yu blinked away his tears. Through the glowing membrane, he saw the shimmering edges of delicate fish scales, each lined with luminous blue dust. Along the underside of the tail, a soft fin stretched down its length, tracing the curve of the body.

Another spark jumped across the shell, snapping against the water.

In an instant, the hunt broke.

The lead leeches turned back in terror. The swarm scrambled back toward the far ledge twice as fast as they had entered the channel, as if a single second longer in the water would cook them alive. With a frantic rustling sound, the parasites scattered into deep cracks along the concrete wall and vanished.

Xia Yu stood frozen on the bank, his jaw slack.

Mi Dou stared with wide eyes, completely speechless.

In a matter of seconds, the danger was gone.

“Get him out of the water,” Xia Yu whispered, snapping out of his daze.

As if sensing the crisis had passed, the egg’s radiance gently faded, and the crackling sparks died away.

Together, the two boys grabbed the soaked coat and hauled the heavy egg onto the ledge. Both collapsed against the damp ground, chests heaving, too exhausted to take another step.

“What were those things?” Mi Dou wheezed after a long silence. “Were they worms?”

“I don’t know,” Xia Yu said, clutching his thumping chest. “I think… they might be the Parasite Hosts Jingwei warned us about. That man was infected the whole time.”

Mi Dou shivered. “Good thing you noticed… but what happened to Mo An? Did he shock them? Can he always do that?”

“I have no idea,” Xia Yu said, shaking his head. “He never did anything like that in the lab tank. If he had, Professor Wang would have written it down. The researchers always said my jellyfish DNA was useless, that I was just a defective subject… but Mo An is incredible.”

As the praise left his lips, the tail inside the egg gave a faint flick against the membrane, responding to his voice.

Was Mo An preparing to hatch? He had slept in that shell for years. Was his time finally drawing near?

Could Xia Yu really have helped him wake?

“Where do we go now?” Mi Dou asked, rubbing his bandaged shoulder.

“Let me think… don’t rush me,” Xia Yu muttered, leaning his tired head against the cool egg. “We have to find Power Plant Number Three. Maybe if we hide there for a few days, things will calm down outside.”

“The surface is scary,” Mi Dou mumbled, his ears drooping as he thought of his mother.

“That man said the fighting was mostly over,” Xia Yu reasoned, trying to find a silver lining. “He said the people who surrendered were allowed to live. If we just stay quiet and don’t cause trouble, maybe they won’t hunt us. And we’re mutants, so we’re not at the very bottom.”

He sighed, wiping his damp face. “Let’s catch our breath first, then keep moving.”

Xia Yu gently blew across the fresh scratches on the egg’s surface, patting the shell with gentle taps.

His little fish. Was he really going to hatch soon? When the shell finally broke, would Xia Yu be able to touch those soft scales? And would he still be around to keep him safe?

Inside the egg, separated only by the clear wall, Mo An pressed his brow against the spot where Xia Yu was leaning.

He had been jolted awake years ahead of schedule. His eyes were still too weak for the light. His tail and umbilical cords remained firmly bound to the inner membrane. Under normal circumstances, he should have stayed protected in this nursery for years to come.

Yet Mo An was terrified he would run out of time.

The little jellyfish was far too fragile. He looked like something that could be crushed with a single touch.

If he wanted to protect him, he would have to break out of this shell early, no matter what it cost him.

Exhaustion pulled Mo An under again, and the gnawing hunger dragged him back into the dark.

Half an hour later, the boys set out once more along the concrete ledge.

They followed the channel until the walkway ended at a massive, tarnished steel bulkhead.

“Is this an electronic door?” Mi Dou asked, pointing at a cracked digital console beside the frame.

“It looks like it, but it’s an older model than the ones back home,” Xia Yu said, inspecting the shattered screen. “Can you force it?”

“I’ll try!” Mi Dou grabbed the handle with both paws and pulled with all his might, his muscles straining.

The heavy steel did not budge an inch.

“It’s deadlocked,” Xia Yu observed, recognizing the magnetic seal mechanism. “The system has no power.”

Mi Dou scratched his curly hair in frustration. “How do we get power to it?”

Xia Yu paused, his eyes slowly drifting toward the bundle wrapped in the lab coat.

A few minutes later, after they pressed the surface of the egg directly against the exposed terminal wires, the console flashed with a crisp blue chime.

Click.

The magnetic locks disengaged.

“It worked! Mo An really is like a battery!” Mi Dou cheered, swinging the bundle back onto his shoulders. “You’re so smart, Xia Yu!”

“Mo An is the amazing one!” Xia Yu smiled, squeezing through the narrow gap and helping Mi Dou through behind him.

They pulled the heavy door shut, dropping the safety bar into place.

When they turned around, both boys gasped at once.

“Woah…”

The room was dry and clean—a forgotten emergency auxiliary pantry.

Lined up along the sturdy metal shelves were dozens of sealed ration crates, packed with canned meats, dried fruit, and rows of pristine bottled water.

Meanwhile, drained from discharging so much bio-electricity, Mo An drifted unconscious within the fluid, anchored by a single burning thought: Hatch.

Hidden beneath his ear-fins, three hairline slits had parted along each side of his throat.

They were his sealed gill slits—airways that should not have opened for years.

Now, each slit had widened by a fraction of a millimeter. The delicate gill tissues within lay flat, pale, and uncirculated, like tiny white pouches waiting for the sea.

A Mermaid’s Guide to Survival in the Apocalypse