by Laura Martin
“Uh-oh,” Garth said, and there was something about the way he said it that made it clear he wasn’t talking about the busted egg. I looked up to discover that his face mask had a fracture right down the center.
“You busted my mask!” Max said, his hand over his own cracked mask.
“No, you busted mine!” Garth shot back.
I was distracted from their bickering by Mr. Weaver, who’d finally succeeded in getting the last of the water from his own mask. “Swim for the submarine!” he gasped.
“But the eggs,” Max protested.
“Are less important than you two surviving this dive,” Weaver said. “If your masks break, and from the look of those cracks it’s only a matter of time, you’ll be in big trouble, and an egg will only slow you down. Now go!” I’d only heard Weaver bellow like that one other time, and it had been when the megalodon was bearing down on us. Both boys hesitated for a half second, but then they followed orders and turned to make their way out of the cave. Max had a hand clutched to his mask, and I wondered if he’d started taking on water. The thought was unnerving, and I watched them for a half second longer before turning back to the nest.
Weaver looked at me, his own face mask heavily fogged from its brief saltwater fill. “I need to make sure the boys make it back. Grab your egg and let’s go,” he instructed as he scooped two eggs into his own mesh bag. “This is just a theory, but I’d bet anything that the noise we heard when the egg broke is as good as a siren song for the parents, and I guarantee they are heading back this way as we speak. Hurry!” With that he swam after the retreating figures of Garth and Max.
There was one egg left, and I quickly rolled it into my bag and hefted it in my hands. It was heavy, but not unmanageable.
“Berkley!” Weaver’s voice bellowed in my ear. “Get out of that cave! Now!” I whirled and kicked hard for the cave entrance.
The first thing I spotted upon exiting the cave were the hatch doors closing behind Garth and Max. This made me feel both relief and fear for my friends. If the boys couldn’t wait for Mr. Weaver and me to get there before closing those doors, then their masks must have started leaking. I said a silent prayer that they’d made it inside in time. It would be a few minutes before they would be able to open up the hatch for us again, and I knew I had to be waiting outside it when they did. Mr. Weaver was already halfway back to the submarine, and I was about to follow him when Captain Reese’s voice filled my ears.
“Berkley, Weaver, take cover. The dive team just sent a report that the adults are heading our way.”
I froze, my eyes scanning for the monsters as Mr. Weaver changed course and dove for the ocean floor, where he disappeared behind an outcropping of rocks. I was about to make for the same outcropping when I spotted the parents.
If I’d never seen a hydra before, I might have mistaken the quickly moving ribbons of red in the distance for something else—maybe a school of fish or a large eel—but of course I had seen a hydra before. They were still pretty far off, but I knew immediately that I’d never make the outcropping with my heavy load. They were coming on too fast, so I turned and headed back the way I’d just come.
“Not the cave!” Mr. Weaver yelled, but it was too late to do anything else. I’d just have to make it work. I kicked hard, letting the weight of the eggs pull me downward. At the last second, though, I spotted what appeared to be a crack in the rock a few feet to the right of the entrance and changed course.
“Three hundred yards and closing fast,” Captain Reese’s voice said in my ear. I reached the crack and grimaced when I noticed it was much smaller than I’d first anticipated. I shoved the bag into the hole, maneuvering the eggs so they’d slide in one at a time, and gave them a good shove so they rolled toward the back.
“Two hundred yards,” Captain Reese said. I fumbled to unfasten the large spear from its spot across my back and gripped it firmly in my right hand before shoving my feet into the crack and sliding in the same way I slid into the covers on my bunk every night. Thankfully, the crack was deeper than it was wide, and with a bit of wiggling and shifting I was able to get myself all the way inside with a good twelve inches to spare.
“One hundred yards,” Captain Reese said. She didn’t have to tell me, though. I could see them clearly now, and I felt my breath freeze in my lungs. I clenched my teeth together to keep from screaming. The monsters were a bit smaller than the one I’d unearthed in the old elementary school, but that didn’t make them any less terrifying. For one thing, there were two of them; for another, they were streaking toward the cave entrance with their mouths open, fangs exposed. Weaver’s theory about the broken egg looked like it was a pretty solid one. They seemed furious as they focused on the cave with a single-minded intensity that could only mean one thing—they knew their young were in danger.
The one on the right was smaller, probably the female, but wickedly fast as she shot through the water like a streak of red lighting. The male beside her had a thick mane of black hair that started at the top of his head and made its way down his fifteen-foot length. The female flew past my hiding spot and into the cave entrance, and I felt the rock around me tremble as she thrashed against the walls of the cave. Tiny bits of rubble fell around me like rain, and I winced as a particularly large piece hit the side of my head and glanced off. A moment later I saw a thin stream of red as it floated away.
“Mr. Weaver?” I said. “Can hydras smell blood like a shark?”
“I’m not sure,” Mr. Weaver said. “Why?”
“Just curious,” I said lamely as I watched the water in front of me turn a hazy red from my bleeding head.
The male monster had turned to investigate the Britannica, mouthing experimentally at the metal exterior of the submarine. Even from where I hid, I could see his teeth scraping long scratches in the Britannica’s iridescent finish. I was so busy watching him that I didn’t notice that the female had emerged from the cave until her face was completely blocking the entrance to my hiding spot. I screamed as she attempted to shove her snout inside, and I tried to push myself farther away, but there was nowhere else to go. I could feel the eggs behind my feet shift, and I knew that if I broke them now, I’d be in even bigger trouble.
Captain Reese and Mr. Weaver were chattering simultaneously in my ear about poisonous fangs and poor eyesight and the importance of staying where I was because the dive team was on its way and they’d be able to help, but I could barely hear them above the scraping of teeth on rocks. The female’s snout was mere inches from my head, and I knew she was going to get to me before the dive team ever got to her. I tried to think of a way out of this, but panic was fogging my brain, and I screamed again as another sizable chunk of rock fell away, giving the monster one more inch I couldn’t spare. I squirmed backward again and felt something hard press against my shoulder. Turning my head, I saw the spear I’d unhooked from my back and stuck in beside me. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
I tore my attention away from the open mouth and razor-sharp teeth and focused instead on shimmying the spear up from its spot along my side until I had it in my hands. I thought for a second about the harpoon guns Max had mentioned, and I wished he hadn’t screwed that one up for everyone. It was no use mourning what I didn’t have, though. The spear would have to be enough.
I only had one shot at this, so I had to make it good. I waited as the monster rammed her nose inside the hole again and winced as I felt the rush of water from her snout blast my face. One more go at the rock and she was going to be able to yank me out of my hiding place by the top of my head. She pulled her snout back out and opened her mouth to grind at the rock, giving me a clear view down the back of her throat. This was my chance, and I took it. I thrust my spear out with as much force as I could muster in the cramped space, sending its pointed end directly into the soft pink throat of the monster. She immediately jerked backward, her head thrashing angrily from side to side, the spear protruding from her mouth as the water around it turned re
d.
Behind the thrashing female I saw the male suddenly jerk sideways as three harpoons hit his side in rapid succession. The dive party had arrived. So much for just attaching trackers, I thought grimly as I watched the male go down with two more harpoons protruding from his side. Of course, I knew full well we couldn’t leave these two monsters alive, not now, not after they knew we were responsible for killing and capturing their eggs. I felt terror rush through me again, although this time it was for my family on the Atlas being stalked by a monster just like these two, only without a dive team to save the day.
The female was hit by a diver’s harpoon and went limp, probably since my spear had done a decent amount of damage already. Even as she sank lifelessly to the bottom of the ocean, I still couldn’t quite believe that I was alive. Weaver emerged from his hiding spot a moment later and handed his eggs to a member of the dive team before turning to swim toward me.
I knew I could come out, I knew the coast was clear, but somehow I couldn’t get my limbs to cooperate. It wasn’t until Mr. Weaver’s friendly face peered inside at me that I was finally able to move. I extended a hand and he grabbed it and pulled. I slipped out and got my first look at the damage the female had done to the rock in her attempt to pry me out of my hiding spot like a turtle from its shell.
“Whoa,” I said as I took in the huge gouges and chunks that had been removed.
“No time to celebrate,” Captain Reese’s voice said in our ear. “The cleanup squad is arriving.” Weaver and I turned as three sharks emerged from the gloom of the ocean, no doubt attracted by the thick streams of blood emerging from the dying sea monsters.
“Darn,” Mr. Weaver said, “and here I was hoping to bring the class back out for a quick inspection and dissection. Come on, then, Berkley—we’d better get back to the ship so they can close the hatch. Besides, your head’s bleeding, and if we hang around too long, those sharks are going to notice.”
I put a hand up to my head. I’d forgotten about the cut from the rock, and I felt thankful for the bleeding sea monsters that were taking the spotlight off me.
“My eggs,” I said, suddenly remembering why we’d gotten into this mess in the first place, and I ducked into my hole headfirst to retrieve the mesh bag with its bulky contents. Weaver grabbed one side as I grabbed the other, and together we swam them back to the Britannica.
“What about the egg that got cracked?” I asked.
Weaver shook his head sadly. “It’s most likely dead. Shame, I would have liked to collect the entire brood.”
The dive crew flanked us on either side, harpoon guns ready in case the ever-increasing number of sharks decided they would rather have fresh diver instead of dead sea monster for lunch. I felt my stomach roll as the sharks ripped into the monsters. We made it back to the hatch, and everyone piled in. There was a quick head count to make sure no one had been forgotten, and then the button was pressed, and the doors began to close. The hatch sealed shut, and I was sure I wasn’t the only one to breathe a sigh of relief. The water slowly drained away, and a minute later we were back inside the Britannica.
13
“Near-death experience, and we still have to schlep these stupid eggs back to the large-specimen lab,” Max grouched as we made our way down the hall, each of us gingerly clutching a sea-monster egg.
“I wouldn’t get all fussy about your near-death experience,” Kate said from behind me. “If you can even call a cracked face mask a near-death experience. Berkley is the one who almost got digested today.”
“Don’t remind me,” I said.
“Where are we supposed to put these things again?” Garth asked with a grunt as he adjusted his grip on the egg he was carrying.
“Weaver said there was an empty tank next to Elmer’s,” Kate said. “I heard him talking to Captain Reese about all the possibilities the hatchlings might have.”
“Possibilities?” Garth asked skeptically. “What possibilities?”
I found out the next day when I walked into the large-specimen room to begin the now-familiar task of prepping breakfast for sea monsters. Weaver was standing in front of the tank full of eggs, his hands behind his back as he bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet.
“Endless possibilities! Endless, I tell you!” he said as a way of greeting when he saw me. He clapped his hands together. “One bite from an adult can paralyze a whale. If the young are even half as potent, we could use that poison as a weapon when defending a ship.”
“Um,” I said with a nervous glance at the tank with its clutch of eggs, “can I volunteer someone else to help with that particular project?” It hadn’t even been a full twenty-four hours since I’d been attacked, and my heart still hadn’t climbed down out of its hiding place inside my throat. It was the second time I’d come face-to-face with a hydra and lived to tell the tale, and I had a feeling the whole “third time’s the charm” thing wouldn’t exactly work out in my favor. “Besides,” I said, “how exactly do you plan to harvest their poison?”
“That’s the sticky part,” Weaver said, brow furrowed.
“Morning, young’uns!” boomed a voice behind us, and I turned to see Garth and Hector standing in the doorway to the large-specimen room holding a huge bag filled with what looked like empty glass balls. Just like on the Atlas, glass was used pretty much everywhere on board the Britannica. One thing humans had a surplus of after the Tide Rising was sand, after all, and I knew from my time working with Hector that he was a pretty expert glass blower. The shimmering orbs had each been created by Hector blowing air down a thick metal pipe into a red-hot ball of molten glass, a sight that was both impressive and slightly frightening.
“Young’uns?” Weaver chuckled. “Who are you calling a young’un, old-timer?”
Hector laughed and came over to peer into one of the nearby tanks. The thin sea monster that always attempted to escape stared back at him with bulbous black eyes and writhed unhappily.
“Now, that one’s ugly as sin,” he said, taking off his hat to scratch his head. “Are you destroying it?”
“No, just researching, learning, and discovering,” Weaver said flippantly, even though I knew a comment like that probably had him boiling inside. Weaver got attached to his sea monsters, despite the fact that a few of them routinely tried to kill him. “What brings you two to the large-specimen room this fine morning?” he asked, turning to smile at Garth. “I know it wasn’t because Garth here missed the place.”
“That’s an understatement and a half,” Garth grumbled with a wary look behind him at Elmer, who chose that moment to lunge at the front of his tank, making Garth jump. I stifled a laugh, and even Hector’s lip twitched into a half smile.
“We came to bring you these,” Hector said, depositing the bag of large glass balls on the floor. “It’s that time again.”
“What time?” I said.
“Blood-bomb-making time,” Hector said.
Garth grinned wickedly. “I had to help make these on my second day on board. No trade-backs.” Elmer lunged at the front of his tank again, and Garth flinched.
Hector rolled his eyes. “Come on, twitchy,” he said. “We have work to do.”
“Have fun!” Garth called over his shoulder to me. I stuck my tongue out at his retreating back, all the while reminding myself that it had been my brilliant idea to switch jobs. I glanced over at Elmer as I grabbed two of the orbs that we would fill with the bloody guts and remains of the fish we cleaned for the monsters, and I could have sworn he winked at me.
“Next time you have my permission to dunk him and ink him,” I said as I followed Weaver out.
The eggs hatched a week later. I was in the large-specimen room during a rare window of free time, notebook in hand, when I noticed the first crack and hurried to get Weaver. Kate, Max, Garth, a good chunk of the dive crew, and Captain Reese ended up all piling into the room to watch as, one after another, five tiny sea monsters emerged from their speckled shells. I observed the creatures with mixed fee
lings. While I had to agree with Weaver that this was fascinating, part of me was a bit disgusted by the whole thing. A full-grown one of those things was hunting down my family at that very moment, and now I was expected to take care of these babies?
I’d never have said it out loud, but I wished I’d just smashed the eggs instead of risking my life to get them back to the sub. A job was a job, though, and since Weaver insisted the newly hatched monsters be fed immediately, I found myself standing in front of half the crew, dutifully handing a bucket of live fish to Weaver as he carefully unlocked the lid of the tank and dumped in the lot. The tiny sea monsters, each about the thickness and length of my arm, swarmed the poor fish, biting them with their tiny needle teeth and then waiting for the fish to go stiff before swallowing them whole.
“Are you picturing how close we came to getting bitten by one of these? Twice?” Garth said.
I nodded as the miniature monsters twisted and writhed around one another, their tiny teeth flashing. A rumbling growl came from the floor, and I glanced down to see Tank eyeing the new monsters warily, one lip curled up in a snarl. He wasn’t a fan of the sub’s new additions either, and I crouched down to rub him behind the ears. “You and me both, buddy,” I mumbled.
“Any ideas yet for how to extract the poison?” Captain Reese asked, leaning close to the tank to inspect the small red monsters.
“Working on that,” Weaver said. “I’m thinking that extraction by capture, like they used to do with rattlesnakes before the Tide Rising, isn’t a great option. The odds of getting bitten are a bit too high. Even an adolescent hydra could stop a grown man’s heart. I’m still trying to design something that will work.”