by DAN MONTY
The second work station was a DNA collection lab. A guy named Ted with fuzzy hair and a white coat was labelling collected samples. “This is Ted, he is in charge of collecting the specimens and samples you will provide.” Hans waved to Ted who smiled politely. Ted was also listening to heavy metal on his headphones so was far too busy to talk.
The tour went on to the third work station, sample processing, where collected samples were painstakingly processed through computers. DNA blocks were broken up and processed piece by piece as a single DNA block had so much information. A large woman named Regina was hard at work, with her back to them.
“This is our DNA processing station. The collected samples are broken up and put back to together, mutations are isolated and replaced with clone cells. It’s very complicated, but the idea is to eradicate damaged or mutated cells and fill in the gaps with engineered cells of our own,” Hans said.
Jerry and Connor were fascinated but had no idea what any of it meant. The fourth work station was next, Hans again doing his best to elaborate.
“Station four is all about genetic research. We tag our sharks, and that tells us a great deal, not only about the sharks, but their ancestors as well. All of our sharks can be tracked across great distances. Great whites can swim 6,150 feet below the surface and up to 50 miles in a day. Tracking is crucial if one gets out,” he said. Bo looked up suddenly. “Gets out? Wait they can get out?” he asked nervously. Hans shrugged. “It is not impossible. Naturally we have taken extreme precautions to ensure that they don’t, Mr Landers, but frankly, life can potentially always find a way. Lucy does keep an eye on all that though,” Hans added reassuringly.
He led the guys to the fifth station where no-one was working at that time. “Here we process cartilage, and conduct research on both cartilage and teeth. We can learn so much about a shark by studying its cartilage,” he went on, walking around to the last two stations. Station six was full of diving equipment and breathing apparatuses. “Our divers station, where you suit up, and test your equipment... ” he said, leaving them hanging until they reached the seventh and final station “...And the medical bay. Accidents happen boys, and we will always have a doctor on standby.” Jerry couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Connor looked at him raising an eyebrow. Jerry shrugged. “What, dude? Better to have and not need, right?” he asked... and Connor smiled.
Level C was just one of the three sublevels and Bo knew there were two below, the lowest of the levels was off limits, but why? What was down there? He shrugged it off. For now, he didn’t want to think too much. He wanted a cigarette. It had already been a day overloaded with information and processing all of it was giving him a headache. Hans Strucker had quite the little operation going here, but why all the secrecy? He didn’t like that.
He’d heard of DNA researchers slipping through the cracks before, scientists that operated outside the laws of the world. He tried to relax, looking over the bright yellow diving suits which looked like space suits. One thing was certain in all this, Hans Strucker was one wealthy son of a bitch.
The lab was prepared and the equipment was ready, but Bo felt like something was a little off about those sharks. They seemed quite large and extremely intelligent. They almost seemed to be hovering around the glass, watching and taking note of where everyone was standing. Marking everyone’s positions. “These test sharks... are they normal?” Bo asked Hans, with a small hint of concern. Hans looked at Bo, then his sharks and returned his attention to Bo, thinking about the question. “Define normal,” came the reply. Bo rephrased the question, “Have these sharks been genetically altered?” he asked, and Hans shook his head, “No. They have adapted to their surroundings and we have monitored changes in their behaviour, but there has been no genetic tampering with these sharks," Hans replied finally. Bo nodded and rubbed his chin, looking back at the great whites and pondering on what Hans had told him. Bo had wanted to know because if he was getting in the water with these fish, he had to know that they hadn’t been somehow enhanced. Sharks were unpredictable as it was, but if they had been messed with or mutated somehow, they could be much more dangerous than he knew.
‘Alright! Let’s get you gentlemen suited up and in the water. We are going to start with fresh core samples from both sharks!” Hans said excitedly, clapping his hands together.
The three men were suited up with the assistance of three diving technicians, the process taking about half an hour. Jerry, Connor, and Bo stood there in their bright yellow suits looking like astronauts preparing to enter a space shuttle. “Hey can you guys hear me?” Jerry asked the guys and Connor nodded, “Loud and clear. You look like Tom Skerritt right now! You know? Like in Alien?” Connor asked channelling his inner-nerd. “Oh yeah, hey, you too buddy!” Jerry observed. The two guys fist bumped as the shark cage which was big enough for three lowered over the pool from above.
The dome covering the pool opened to reveal to entrance to the water world below. The guys stood by the cage which was lowered into the water. Hans handed them all collection spears. “It is not as easy as you think. Try to spear them by the dorsal fin, that should get you a good sample. One sample from each shark. Be precise, don’t just stab at them willy-nilly, you’ll just piss them off!” he instructed. “So are we all getting in?” Jerry asked, and Hans gave him the thumbs up. Jerry sighed, stepping over the edge and sinking into the cage, spear in hand. Bo climbed in next, followed by Connor, as the cage slowly sank into the darkness of the depths, hanging from a chain that was held by a crane in the ceiling.
The cage sank deeper into the blue, the ocean dark and seemingly empty. At this depth of 200 metres, 656 feet below the surface, visibility was poor. Everything was dark, and all they could hear was the sounds made by their suits. Their breathing was relaxed and controlled as the cage entered into the darkness... Jerry looked around but saw nothing in the murky blue.
“I can’t see them!” he stated, “Can you guys see them?” he went on, sounding nervous for a guy that had been around sharks quite a bit. Connor squinted off into the dark distance of the depths. There were no fish. Nothing but the empty void of dark water. It was a strange feeling knowing that there were two great whites out there, but they were nowhere to be seen. Nothing could be seen in the water.
“Hans, you got a visual on the sharks?” Bo asked and Hans’ voice came over the headphones, “Hold on I’ll give you some light," he said. Soon beams of light shot out from the base of the first building of the facility, and Connor and Jerry looked about, spying nothing in the water but particles of sea life. “Here sharky-sharky... “
THUD! A massive object hit the cage hard enough for Jerry to let out a squeal making him sound like a little girl. “What the fuck was that?” Jerry asked, relaxing and looking around into the emptiness of the abyss. Bo looked down through the bottom of the cage, squinting at the endless ocean depths, no end in sight.
His mouth dropped in horror as, faintly at first, the massive female shark Rachel appeared from the gloom. She swam toward the bottom of the cage, mouth agape, and jaws outstretched. “Oh shit! HOLD ON!” Bo yelled, as Jerry and Connor followed his worried glance.
The shark missed the cage, the massive torso of the fish gliding past them coming close enough to reach out and touch. Then she was gone again into the blue.
“My God! Is she fucking with us?” Connor demanded. Bo looked around in the water, seeing nothing again. “What’s going on Hans?” Bo asked into his microphone, and Hans replied with a calm voice, “Just relax... ” he said, “she’s just curious," he went on. Jerry laughed. “Oh yeah? Well I just shit in my suit, so how about that?” he said. This was odd behaviour for a white shark. They were curious, but these sharks were aggressive, taunting the divers in the cage – and considering the female was a 20 footer, it was frankly scary to say the least.
The men were breathing heavily, gripping their spears in their hands, exchanging nervous glances, as each passing second grew more intense. Finally, the
male shark appeared out of the blue, slowly moving towards the cage, gradually becoming visible out of the dimly lit depths. A beam of light caught its snout as it made its approach.
Scar was big, the scar over its left eye making it look far more menacing than the larger female, yet it glided slowly alongside the cage. Bo wasted no time, jabbing it with the hollowed out tip of his spear, his aim was true striking right behind the dorsal fin.
The shark sped off, swimming deeper into the darkness of the waters. Bo pulled in his spear, examining the tip to ensure he’d collected a sample. “That’s one! We just need a core sample from Rachel!” he said. Jerry and Connor nodded. “I think I see her!” Jerry said and Connor followed his gaze, gripping his spear at the ready. “She’s coming in fast!” Connor said, and Bo put a hand on his back, “It’s all you, man. You got this! Right by the dorsal!” Bo added, and Connor nodded his head. “I got this!” Connor mumbled.
Rachel approached, her massive jaws open wide in taunt. She brushed by the cage, almost hitting it, but Connor was ready. He reached out, jabbing at her dorsal fin quickly, and pulling his spear in as the shark swam off angrily. “YA-HOO!” Jerry bellowed as he inspected Connor’s spear tip and saw the sample was inside. “Alright Hans! We’re good to go!” Bo cheered, and the guys laughed, bumping each others fists in triumph. It was a good day.
Hans activated the switch and the cage began its ascent back to level C. The guys were patting themselves on the back for a job well done. “Well done, gentlemen!” Hans’ voice said in their ear pieces. Bo had to admit, it wasn’t bad for their first day.
6
Abigale walked on a sandy path between the tall palms behind the resort, moving into the island jungle and away from the beach. It was hot and she wore her backpack, a black t-shirt, shorts, and carried a bottle of water she had filled from the tap which she used to tip over her head soaking her shirt and face.
She walked slowly, her phone in her other hand, as the sun baked down on the surrounding wilderness. She took several shots of trees and birds as they flew over her head.
She spotted one of the beautiful red parrots perched in the trees and paused to snap a quick photo, admiring its brightly coloured feathers. She looked at the photo, and cropped it to draw the focus on the bird.
Abby kept walking being sure to remain on the path, as it led her through the trees and deeper into the sunlit jungle. A strange sound caught her attention and she looked up in the direction of the sound, spying a small howler monkey. She swiped her finger back to the photo setting on her phone, and snapped another shot.
“Well hello there," she said quietly, the howler monkey looking about, before swinging away from the branch it held onto with its little hands, vanishing into the green wilderness.
Abigale smiled away, taking in the fresh jungle and breathing it in. She loved the sounds of birds, the rustling of leaves, and the distant crashing of ocean waves. It was a tropical paradise fit for a queen, and for now it was her playground.
She had always been a city girl, but the sights and smells of this magical island were captivating to say the very least. No traffic fumes, no wailing sirens, or loud music, no crack addicts begging for change – just peaceful and desperately needed serenity.
She walked a long the track mindlessly floating in the warmth of jungle peacefulness with neither a care in the world nor a worry in her mind. Tropical tranquillity set in and Abby felt as though she could easily walk all day in the jungle. She easily could, having walked quite a bit in Melbourne around the Yarra River, North Melbourne, and St Kilda Beach. She loved walking when there was somewhere to walk to. The only thing she wasn’t used to was the heat. Melbourne was known for its bipolar weather, in winter it was freezing and rain was quite common; but this island had light rains in the mornings and evenings, and scorching heat throughout the day which suited Abby just fine. She was adaptable to the weather but it did take some getting used to.
She became aware of the sudden sound of rushing water as she walked further along the track and realised it must be a waterfall. Excited, Abby raced along the track as the rush of water became clearer and louder. ‘If you get lost, we will find you,’ Hans' words replayed in her mind as she ran. She wasn’t afraid of getting lost but the words offered her both a chilling feeling and a strange sense of comfort as she ran, branches brushing past her skin as she laughed merrily, running through the trees, jumping over logs and rocks.
She came to a clearing in the trees and stopped at the foot of a massive waterfall that showered down into a large round pool surrounded by trees and rock walls greened with moss. She didn’t waste a second, taking off her backpack, stepping out of her clothes, and jumping naked into the cool, blue green water of the pool.
Her head breached the surface of the water, her arms raised in the air in triumph. “YA-HOOO!” she bellowed, wiping water off her face and laughing – wild with the sudden joy of freedom. The water instantly refreshing her body and exciting her. She soaked in her surroundings, although her heart skipping a beat when she came to the realization that she was being watched.
There by the waterfall stood a dark woman with long braided hair. She looked quite relaxed in a yellow bikini and her voice was loud, so it could be heard over the falling waters. She spoke with a heavy Jamaican accent saying “Just what we needed! Another crazy white woman!” laughing away and Abby laughed as well.
Abby climbed out of the water, grabbing her clothes and getting dressed. “I’m sorry I couldn’t resist. It’s beautiful!” she replied and the woman walked over to her, extending her hand which Abby shook. "Ya, I didn’t mean to be interruptin' but ya should probably know there be sea snakes in there. Ya don’t want one of them slithering up ya cooch!” she said, and Abby shivered at the thought of it. “Oh my God! I had no idea!” she replied. She hadn’t even considered the chance of anything harmful being in the water. The woman laughed and Abby looked at her.
She was maybe 33, tall, and athletic. She looked very friendly and warm, a beautiful smile of pearly white teeth gracing her mouth. “My name is Chandice,” the woman said, “You are one of the new people working with Strucker?” Abby nodded, ringing water out of her hair. “I’m a photographer from Melbourne," Abby replied. Chandice smiled... “You are from Australia? Beautiful country. I hope to visit there someday. Is Melbourne nice?” she asked fascinated. Abby cringed a little, laughing. “It’s okay. They say Sydney is nicer. Do you live on the island?” Abby changed the subject to shift the focus from jabbering about Melbourne. “I do. But not forever. This is not a place one wants to stay for too long,” Chandice remarked. And Abby shrugged in disbelief, “What’s wrong with this island? It’s beautiful here!” she said kindly, and Chandice let the smile fall from her face. “You don’t know, do you? Oh girl... even a poison apple, looks beautiful on the outside. There is a darkness on this island... you may not see it at first, but over time you be seeing it just fine. The eyes play tricks at first. It looks like a paradise, but ya don’t see the rot in the core until ya be taking a bigger bite,” she went on, pointing to the pool.
“At first you see the beauty...” She knelt down, reaching into the water and grabbing something fast. She pulled out a small yellow sea snake, whipping it onto the rock and killing it instantly. Abby jumped with a fright, looking at the dead sea snake oozing with crimson blood on the rock. “...But in time, you see the snakes!” Chandice stood up and walked away, turning back only once to whisper, “Get out of here girl! RUN!” before walking off again.
Abby looked at her feet where some blood had spattered her, looking up again to see Chandice had completely vanished. “Chandice?” Abby called out, looking around the rock walls and seeing nowhere she could have possibly gone. “Chandice! What are you saying?” Abby called out but there came no reply. It was as though she had disappeared into thin air, which wouldn’t have been that hard to accept. The girl was an islander and she he could have simply run off. However, when Abby looked at the rock where the sn
ake had been killed, she was stunned to see the snake was gone as well.
“Chand.. “ Abby started calling her name again but couldn’t, wondering if what she had seen had ever actually taken place at all. Run. She had told her to run... Abby grabbed her backpack and after taking one last confused look around, Abby walked back to the track and then she did run. Right back in the direction she had come.
◇◇◇◇
Jordan Reeves closed his laptop and sighed. No more writing for today. Hans had asked him to write down his first impressions of the island, and if he was being quite honest with himself he really didn’t have much to say at all. Not because he disliked the island or anything like that, but rather because he was feeling sick and hadn’t stopped throwing up since yesterdays lunch.
Getting sick was just part of travelling for Jordan. New food, new air, new water... even the absence of pollution from car fumes was making him sick, he was just wired that way.
New York was his home and the fact was, he found everywhere else unpalatable. So between flipping switches three times, frantically cleaning the soles of his shoes, and scrubbing his body with a brush in the shower, he'd been throwing up into the porcelain throne.
“Fuck my life,” he said, bent over the toilet once again after a vomit. He flushed the toilet, walking to the basin under the mirror, soaping up his hands, and rinsing them under the tap with ferocity. He scratched the side of his chest and whined and moaned. “Fuck! I’ll do anything for fucking money, won’t I?” He dried his hands on a nearby towel and was about to walk out of the bathroom when he thought the better of it, saying, “Fuck it!” and returning to the sink... again soaping up his hands, again rinsing them frantically.
He dried them thoroughly with the towel, and frustratingly scratched at his side again. Why am I itching? Damn do I have fleas? He thought to himself, lifting his shirt. He looked at his chest and recoiled in horror seeing what looked like 12 vertical cuts – six on the left side and six on the right side – in his chest. “What the fuck?” he said to himself. They weren’t sores either, they were deep and open cuts and Jordan held up his shirt looking into the mirror. My God... he thought to himself, they look like gills.