Fearful Fathoms: Collected Tales of Aquatic Terror (Vol. I - Seas & Oceans)

by Richard Chizmar

  “No, no, no!” yelled Sven, taking the rope from him and tethering it to one of the cleats bolted to the observation deck. “Better it takes that than your arm,” he laughed and patted Hal on the cheek.

  Hal shook his head in nervous agreement. “How can you be this calm?”

  “Eh?” said Sven, cupping his hand behind his ear.

  “I said, how are you so calm!” said Hal.

  Sven smiled. “The ocean is like a woman! You must love her even when she is not so kind!” He laughed madly and howled at the sky, water pouring off his blond, dreadlocked beard.

  Hal laughed, too, despite himself. For the first time since the rain started, the thought of the boat sinking wasn’t at the forefront of his mind. He blew out a cloud of frozen air. “Sven?”

  Sven stopped howling. “What is it, my friend?”

  Hal pointed to the water. “I saw something!”

  “Yes, big waves!” said Sven.

  “No, listen!” said Hal, closing his eyes and holding still so that he could hear the whistles and clicks. “What is that?”

  Sven closed his eyes to listen. The smile faded from his face, and he looked over the edge.

  “What is it?” said Hal, no longer feeling at ease.

  Sven forced a smile. “It is nothing! It is only dolphin!”

  “Dolphins?” said Hal. “I don’t think so! I’ve seen lots of dolphins!” He pointed down at the water. “They don’t look like any dolphin I’ve ever seen!”

  Sven grabbed Hal’s hand that pointed at the water. “Do not point!” He screamed in Hal’s face. “It is only dolphin!”

  Hal tried to back away. “Okay, okay.”

  Sven turned away in a huff, muttering in Swedish.

  “Sven,” said Hal. “I’m sorry if I…” he started to say, but was cut off by a sudden jolt. The entire boat jerked backwards as if it had reached the end of a towline at full speed, sending Hal and Sven tumbling towards the bow. Hal’s back bent awkwardly around the guardrail, knocking the wind out of him and sent bolts of pain through his limbs. Sven rolled and slid by, but managed to hold onto Hal’s leg before being tossed overboard. Hal ground his teeth and rain bouncing off his face as he grabbed the back of Sven’s jacket.

  The bow began to slowly rise as the stern dipped into the icy waters. Hal held what little breath he could manage to gulp into his lungs. The boat was steadily being pulled into the ocean depths.

  A deep crack shook every inch of the seventy-foot research vessel. The bow dropped and splashed down, making everything on board bounce, to include Hal and Sven, who clung to each other and the guardrail. The Cape Hadel was freed to be tossed about the waves once again.

  “We must get off the roof!” yelled Sven.

  Hal shook his head in agreement, but his back and legs were numb, making it was hard for him to navigate the slippery observation deck. He grabbed Sven’s shoulder, “I think you and the ocean are in an abusive relationship!” For a long second Sven stared blankly, then let out a boisterous laugh. Hal smiled, leaned against the guardrail, and closed his eyes.

  “You found your humor! Good!” Sven said and howled at the sky, a howl that abruptly stopped.

  The rain that hit Hals cheek and lips was warm, tasting coppery and familiar. He looked up and around. He was alone on the deck. He wiped his face and looked at the red stain that was being washed away.

  “Sven?” Hal screamed and spun in circles, looking over the edge. “Sven!” He crawled quickly to the bow. “Catherine!” he yelled, but she was nowhere to be seen. He turned to go back to the ladder. He had to tell someone the crewman was likely overboard.

  Hal flinched and turned around as another flash of lightning lit up the night’s sky. For the briefest of moments, the lightning trailed behind a one hundred-foot wave rolling their way. Though paralyzed by the sight of the wave, he could clearly see the silhouette of an enormous tentacle, spanning nearly the length of the wave, curling inside it. There were also dozens of smaller creatures in the wave, the ones he had seen swimming around the boat he reckoned, racing up it toward the tentacle.

  “Dear God,” Hal mouthed, unable to actually speak. The light receded back into darkness. His eyes were locked on where the monstrous image once was.

  The rope Sven had tied down broke. The antenna whipped up and caught Hal on the side of his head. Unconscious, his prone body slid off the observation deck and nearly overboard, but instead landed on the main deck. The antenna snapped from its base and sailed into the night.

  * * *

  “Hal,” said Catherine inches from his face. She gently smacked his cheeks to rouse him.

  The sun behind her stabbed at the migraine headache through his eyelids. He groaned and tried to block it out with his hand, but a sharp pain in his shoulder made him hesitate. His whole body felt battered, like he’d been run over by a street sweeper. He squeezed his eyes shut and rolled to the side to vomit.

  “He’s fine,” announced Catherine. She rubbed his back and looked away, not breathing through her nose. “You couldn’t have done that over the side, could ya,” she said between her teeth. She couldn’t look directly at him, but handed over a canteen of water. “Here. Drink this.”

  Hal graciously took the water, washed out his mouth, and splashed it in his face. He rubbed his neck and tried to sit up. “Sven. We were on the observation deck.” His throat burned.

  “Yeah,” said Catherine. “Figure he’s probably in the same place as our VHF antenna.” She pulled Hal’s glasses out of her pocket and handed them to him. One of the lenses was shattered and the frame was taped together.

  “Thanks,” he said and tried to get to his feet.

  The ocean was calm and still. There wasn’t a breeze to be felt.

  “Easy,” she said and waved to a couple of research assistants, Joe Bixby and Tom Cohen, to help.

  The vessel’s Captain, Peter Leven, stood on the observation deck, looking down at Hal. None of them had ever seen him smile, but the scowl on his face now seemed more unpleasant than usual. Hal chalked it up to him losing one of his crewmen, and possibly a friend, in the storm. He sympathetically nodded to the old man, who held the remaining rope still tethered to the cleat and squinted down at Hal.

  The cabin’s interior was a wreck. Food, papers, and personal items lay strewn across the floor. Anything that was not tied down during the storm was now pushed to the side to make a walking lane. Fumes from all-purpose cleaners stung his eyes, but it wasn’t enough to mask the stink of his seasick and unwashed colleagues in the poorly ventilated cabin.

  Joe cleared the couch while Tom lowered Hal down as easy as he could. Out the window, Hal could see Captain Leven having an intense yet hushed conversation with Edvin, the remaining crewman, and Sven’s younger brother. Hal could tell they were intentionally trying to not look his way. Edvin threw up his hands and stormed off.

  “Clara?” said Catherine. “Anything yet?”

  Clara Brighton, research assistant and tech manager, popped off her headphones and mussed her purple hair back into its intentionally-messy position. “Still nothing on the radio, Doctor Singer.”

  Catherine pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. “I could have told you that.”

  “Then you need to be more specific with your questions,” said Clara. Joe and Tom hid their smirks. “But it looks like our beacon is kaputski, too.”

  “Awesome. Does anyone have any ideas about figuring out where we are?” said Catherine, resting against the wall.

  “Maybe the captain can tell by the stars?” said Joe.

  Catherine sighed, “It’s 8:00 am, Joe.”

  Pain shot through Hal’s shoulder and hip as he sat up. “If it still works, we could have Clara check the sounder. We can get an idea as to where are by looking at the ocean floor.”

  “Way ahead of ya, chumley,” said Clara, clicking away at the terminal. “And, surprisingly, we are good. Wait.”

  Catherine pushed away from the wall. “Wai
t for what.”

  “Must be a glitch. I’m going to reboot,” said Clara, frowning.

  “What’s the glitch?” said Hal. “How close are we to the Continental Slope?”

  “According to this? Not far.” said Clara.

  “Clara,” said Catherine. “What is our current depth?”

  Clara twisted the headphone cord between her fingers and mumbled, “4,700 meters.”

  “What?” yelled Tom, running his fingers through his hair. “That’s almost the Abyssal Plain.”

  “We’re not equipped to be out this far,” Joe said weakly, staring into nothing.

  Catherine folded her arms over her chest and took a deep breath through her nose.

  “Clara, please reboot the system and check again,” said Hal.

  “Dude,” said Clara. “This is the weirdest topography I’ve ever seen.”

  Hal grimaced as he leaned closer to the monitor. “Just looks like a hill with some draws coming off of it.”

  She spun around in the chair and gawked at him. “Yeah!” she said. “Eight long draws. You know, like an octopus? I am so claiming this little hill as my discovery. Hello oceanic society, meet Brighton’s Kraken.”

  “That’s great, but don’t you think we have bigger concerns right now?” said Hal.

  “Clara, just take down the coordinates and make a note,” said Catherine impatiently. She sighed. “We still have a job to do. Are we at least able to get a read on the Great Whites we tagged?”

  “Actually,” said Clara, “That’s one of the few things that still works.”

  “Great Whites?” said Joe, wiping his eyes. “Screw the job! How is it possible, even in a storm, to get 400 miles off course?”

  “You don’t!” said Captain Leven loudly in his slight Scandinavian accent. There was no telling how long he had been standing in the doorway, and it was obvious he wasn’t wearing his hearing aid anymore. He took a step inside the cabin and scratched the grey scruff on his neck. “Maybe if the engines were on full and we were heading due east, but like I told you before, doctor, we have no engines and we aren’t pointing east.”

  “Enough,” said Catherine.

  “We were dragged here,” said Captain Leven.

  “I said that’s enough!” shouted Catherine. “All I need from you right now, captain, is to know how you’re going to get us going again. Do you understand me?”

  Captain Leven nodded, “Aye, doctor.” He turned to leave, but not before looking every member of the research team in the eye before he ducked out of the cabin.

  Joe rocked back and forth, shaking his head, “Dragged by what?”

  “Joe!” said Catherine, regaining her composure. “Joe, I need you to get a grip. Yes, we are experiencing some setbacks, but you need to see the upside.”

  “Upside?” said Joe with a nervous laugh.

  “Yes, upside,” said Catherine. All eyes were on her. “From what I can tell, this is unexplored terrain. We may have already made one discovery.”

  “Brighton’s Kraken,” interjected Clara.

  Catherine ignored her. “And I’m sure there is plenty more out there to occupy ourselves with until the boat is repaired or we can make contact with the mainland. It’s our obligation as scientists to keep pushing forward. So calm down or I will calm you down.” There was a haunting coldness in her voice.

  Hal cleared his throat to break the awkward silence. A few minutes ago, the idea of moving out into deeper waters would have sounded like lunacy to him, but she was right: fortune favors the brave. “She has a point. Panicking won’t accomplish anything. We should keep going.”

  Joe and Tom shook their heads in reluctant agreement.

  “Clara, where’re the sharks at?” said Catherine.

  “Chillin at Brighton’s Kraken,” said Clara.

  “Pardon?” said Catherine, walking over to the monitor. The blip on the screen showed at least three of the five tagged sharks clustered directly below their feet. “I thought you said the tags were working.”

  “Clara,” said Hal. “Reboot the system, please.”

  “Rodger-dodger,” said Clara, powering down their radar. She winced and balled over, throwing her headphones against the wall. A high-pitched squeal pierced through the headphones loud enough that everyone covered their ears until the machine turned off a few seconds later. “What the hell was that?” said Clara, massaging her ringing ears.

  “It sounded like some sort of whale song on steroids,” said Tom, wiggling a finger in his ear.

  More of the same moaning whistles could be heard outside. Tom held up his hands to silence everyone in the room. Another whistle and clicking seemed to pass by the boat. Tom rushed to the door and looked over the edge.

  Hal’s heart sped up, and his mouth went dry. He heard those same noises shortly before Sven died. “Stop!” he yelled at Joe, who was walking to the door to see what Tom was looking for.

  The boat rose and fell as the ocean swelled underneath them. Everyone held onto something bolted down. Another swell, a larger one, rocked the boat. Pens, maps and bottles of water rolled off the tables and desk. The Cape Hadel was starting to spin.

  Hal got to his feet and stumbled to the door.

  Catherine blocked the door. “Where are you going?”

  “I need to get Tom before he falls overboard,” he said, feeling it was as much as he could rationally explain. Outside, the seas were getting choppy, and the clouds zipped by as the boat spun faster. “Stay here,” he told her.

  Hal fell out the door and hung onto the guardrail. Focusing his eyes on the deck helped keep his stomach from acting up. “Tom!”

  Tom was on his knees with his forehead resting on the guardrail.

  Whistles and clicking echoed around the boat. Dolphin noises again, Hal told himself as he crawled to Tom. Saltwater sprayed upward all around. Every step closer to Tom reminded Hal of his bruised hip and pounding head injury.

  Hal couldn’t tell if it was drool or just water running off Tom’s chin. His face was white and his pink eyes were wide open. He was slack jawed and mumbling. Hal shook him until he looked at him.

  “They’re not real,” said Tom. Tears ran from his puffy, quivering eyes.

  “What?” Hal started to say as a hand, its skin was slick and grey-blue like that of a dolphin’s, reached over the guardrail and palmed Tom’s face. Its talon-like fingernails dug into his neck. His screams were muffled by the thick webbing between its long fingers. A pair of oversized blue eyes crested the guardrail and stared at Hal. The creature made creaking, clicking noises as Hal scrambled backward, eyes locked with the creature. A second hand reached over, grabbed Tom’s coat, and pulled him overboard. Blood sprinkled the gunwale. The boat spun faster.

  “Tom!” yelled Hal, pulling himself up to look for his friend. Waves splashed around the hull. Bile pushed its way up from his stomach and his head swooned. They were caught in a whirlpool, and there were at least three larger whirlpools occurring around them.

  The creatures jumped and skipped along the waves, distorted humanoids with fins where legs should be. Hal slumped to the deck and pulled his knees to his chest until the Cape Hadel eventually came to a halt.

  When he opened his eyes, Captain Leven was standing over him. “You can’t seem to stay out of trouble, Mr. Banks,” said Captain Leven.

  “Hal!” said Catherine, dropping to his side. “Where’s Tom?”

  Shaking, Hal pointed to the red spatter on the bow.

  “Oh my God,” she said.

  “Doctor Singer, we need to talk!” said Captain Leven.

  “Now is not the time,” she said, and shouldered Hal with Joe’s help.

  The cabin was in greater disarray than before. Hal was dumped back on the couch. Somebody definitely threw up again.

  Captain Leven and Edvin stepped into the cabin behind Catherine. “They were murdered!” Captain Leven bellowed.

  “Preposterous.” said Catherine. “Nobody on this boat was murdered.”

/>   He leaned in to hear her better, which made Catherine give him the stink eye.

  He smirked at her. “I would tend to agree with you, Doctor, if it weren’t for this rope.” He held up the frayed piece of rope that had held down the VHF antenna. “Do you see this? This rope did not break by itself. It was cut. Tell me, Mr. Banks, what happened to poor Sven? Did the antenna truly knock him overboard? And what of Mr. Cohen? I doubt he bumped his head while we spun around like a top.”

  Hal took a sip of water. “I’m not sure.” He licked his lips. “I think that maybe Sven fell off before the rope broke.”

  Captain Leven walked up to him. “Did you kill my crewman and your colleague, Mr. Banks?”

  Edvin locked eyes with him. Hal looked away and around the room for help.

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Banks,” said Captain Leven. “You could no more kill a man than you could reel in Leviathan by yourself.”

  Hal laughed and slunk down into the couch.

  “But something cut this rope,” said Captain Leven. “Tell me, Mr. Banks, what did you see in those waters just now? I wager it was the same last night.”

  “Hal, you don’t have to answer that,” said Catherine.

  “No, it’s alright,” said Hal. “I saw dolphins.”

  Edvin chuckled and echoed, “Dolphins.”

  Captain Leven shushed him and looked back at Hal. “They weren’t dolphins, were they, Mr. Banks?” said captain Leven.

  “I don’t know,” said Hal.

  “They were Merfolk, weren’t they?” said the captain, scratching his chin.

  Catherine scoffed. “Really? We’re going to blame Mermaids? Captain, I didn’t hire you to tell old fisherman tales and we sure as hell aren’t going to waste our time singing Under the Sea!”

  Clara giggled, drawing all eyes on her. “What?” she said. “It was funny. Unda da sea,” she sang briefly before sitting quietly.

  Captain Leven looked around the room. “This is no joking matter. Merfolk are not what you think, and you, Mr. Banks, are lucky to be alive. Merfolk are omens. Vicious creatures; harbingers of death and despair.”

  “So, we’re being hunted by Mermaids?” asked Joe, visibly shaking.

  “Don’t be stupid, boy!” said the captain. “No, we are not being hunted. Sven and Tom were convenient.”