Return to The Deep (From The Deep Book 2)

by Michael Bray

  "You okay?" Fernando said, snapping Jim back to the present.

  "Yeah, I’m fine. Still in shock I think," he mumbled, turning back towards the television.

  Tom sat next to his brother, elbows on knees, head hanging low. "What the hell are we going to do?" he whispered.

  Fernando was spared from having to answer by the knock at the door. Jim and Fernando shot worried glances to each other as Tom stood.

  "Relax, it's just Joanne. I asked her to bring us some stuff."

  Tom opened the door and let his girlfriend in. She handed over a rucksack.

  "There's the stuff you asked for. Change of clothes and some money," she said as she closed the door. "What the hell happened? I couldn’t get away from the aquarium. They locked the place down tight after word got out of what you’d done."

  "It all went wrong, Clayton had a gun, and he shot the driver of the truck."

  "Clayton? That can’t be," Joanne said, looking straight at Jim.

  My God, she knows.

  "That's what happened," Jim said. "Maybe we didn’t know him as well as we thought."

  "How did he die?" she asked, still staring at Jim.

  "Well, they were trapped in the cab and-"

  "I was asking Jim," Joanne said, cutting Fernando off.

  Jim shifted position, looking anywhere but at Joanne. "Well, it’s like he said. We were stuck in the cab. He tried to climb out to get help and got his foot caught in the wheel. I held him up out of the water for as long as I could, but that thing in the back kept moving and pulling the trailer deeper. He drowned. There was nothing I could do.”

  "It’s true," Tom said, putting an arm around Joanne, "Fernando and me saw it, his foot was all mangled and twisted.”

  “It all seems a little too easy.”

  “Look, go easy on him. We've all had a big shock. Obviously, this has gotten out of hand. We need to decide what to do," Tom said, pacing the room from flimsy door to dirty bathroom and back.

  "You're running aren’t you? That’s why you asked for the money," Joanne said.

  "It's an option. There's a lot to be said for turning ourselves in. After all, we didn’t actually do anything wrong," Tom replied as he sat on the edge of the bed.

  "We did a lot wrong," Fernando mumbled, "just look at the TV screen."

  They looked at the images of police and officials swarming all over the beach scene.

  "Jesus," Joanne mumbled, "this is crazy."

  "We can’t give ourselves up," Jim blurted. He cleared his throat and went on. "What I mean is that they'll pin this on us as accessories."

  "You sound like you have something to hide," Joanne said.

  "No, not at all. I just think we should lay low for a while and see how things develop."

  "Convenient."

  "If you have a problem with me, then just spit it out," Jim snapped.

  "Hey, everyone just calm down," Fernando said. "There's something else you need to know."

  "Not now," Tom said, looking at his brother.

  "They need to know."

  "Not now, we can talk about it later."

  "What is it?" Joanne said, looking from Fernando to Tom. "What are you both hiding?"

  Fernando looked at his brother, and then shifted his gaze to Joanne. "Whatever we set free from that trailer, it wasn’t a whale."

  "Enough of the monster stories!" Marie screamed. They all looked at her, tears streaming down her cheeks. "This is how this whole thing started, just shut up about it!"

  "It's not a story," Tom said, "it's true."

  "What do you mean?" Joanne asked.

  "We were right there at the back. We were going to cut it loose before it dragged the trailer any deeper. Whatever it was, it was no whale."

  "What did you see?"

  "Not much. It was covered mostly and in its harness. Its body was like a greenish colour and it had tentacles."

  "But it was huge," Jim said, "and heavy. No squid can grow that big can it?"

  "No, it can’t," Tom replied. "The more I think about it, the surer I am that we've made a massive mistake in whatever it was."

  "But what was it, Tom. You saw it, you must have some idea, "Joanne said.

  "I don’t know what it was. All I know is that it's something I've never seen before."

  Joanne looked at Tom, the troubled look in his eye unfamiliar to her. "Are you sayin’ those stories about something being held in there for the last five years could be true?"

  "Yeah, I think so, and whatever it is, we just let it loose."

  They were silent for a while, the only sound in the room coming from the television as the news recycled the same report from the beach. Jim stood and strode towards the door.

  "Where the hell are you going?" Fernando said.

  "I need a drink."

  "You can’t just go out there now. Not with this-"

  "What?" Jim said to Fernando. "Nobody has anything on us. Hell, for all we know, nobody is even looking for us."

  "That's wishful thinking," Fernando muttered.

  "Yeah," Joanne said, "who knows if you will even come back if you leave now."

  "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Jim hissed.

  "You know what I mean. Everyone knows your history. Trouble with the police, a history of causing problems. I just don’t want you running out and leaving everyone else to get the blame.”

  “You really think I’d do that?” Jim grunted.

  “If the cap fits,” she fired back.

  "Fuck you."

  "Hey, don’t talk to her like that," Tom said, taking a step towards Jim.

  "Sorry, man, but she's been niggling at me since she walked through the door. Say what you want, but if things are about to change and we have to spend the next couple of weeks hiding out, then I wanna enjoy this last little bit of freedom. The rest of you are welcome to stay here if you want to and watch this same old shit on the news, but I won’t do it. I'm gonna go find a bar and have a few drinks and toast my friend."

  Nobody spoke as he walked past them and opened the door. One by one, they followed, deciding that maybe, just maybe, he was right.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Immediately following the incident at Cocoa Beach, a message was sent to the C.I.A and Homeland Security to compile a list of potential people or groups who may be responsible for carrying out such a daring attack. Top of the list, above the usual animal rights activists, were the names Henry Rainwater and Clara Thompson. Within an hour of the news breaking, both had been rounded up and transported by Helicopter to the Pentagon. Deliberately kept apart from each other, they were placed into separate holding cells for questioning. Such was the importance of finding out quickly who was responsible, Tomlinson himself was on site, and insisted on being involved with the questioning. Andrews had flown in too, despite having a mammoth workload already. Tomlinson had insisted he be on site to speak to them as he had a personal relationship with both parties.

  He walked the wide corridor towards where they were being held in separate rooms. He knew Tomlinson was in with Clara, and so he was left with Rainwater. He opened the door to the office where he was waiting, shocked at just how much his physical appearance had changed. When Andrews had last seen him five years earlier, he was a slim, steely eyed fisherman. Now he was a bearded, overweight, and world weary excuse for a man. Even before he could take his seat, Andrews could smell the booze seeping out of his pores. Andrews took his seat and looked Rainwater in the eye, trying to see anything of the man he once knew.

  "Do you know why we brought you here?" he asked.

  "I can guess. I just hope I’m wrong," Rainwater grunted.

  "Have you been drinking?"

  "So what if I have? Can’t a man have a drink when he wants to?"

  "Looks like more than just one," Andrews countered.

  "So whaddya want?"

  Andrews cleared his throat. "Well, as you know, this morning there was an incident on Cocoa Beach. I assume you've seen the news
."

  "I don’t have a TV. Even so, before you go any further, forget it."

  “Forget what?" Andrews said, genuinely confused.

  "You know. I told you everything I knew about what happened in the ice cave. I also promised not to speak a word of it to anyone, which I haven’t. Whatever reason you brought me in here, I didn’t do it."

  "Look, Henry, I assumed you would know why you're here, but the fact that you don’t makes this more difficult." Andrews waited for a response, and was met only by a glassy stare. "There's no easy way to say this, so I’ll just come out and say it. Back when we collapsed the ross ice shelf-"

  "You didn’t collapse shit. It was my friend, my best friend who did that and you and your government didn’t even acknowledge it," Rainwater slurred.

  "You know the reasons for that, but frankly it's beside the point."

  "No matter what your reasons, that man died a hero. Those bastard things deserved to die."

  "We captured one."

  For the first time, Rainwater appeared to be paying attention. The glaze lifted from his eyes and he sat up straight in his seat. "What do you mean?"

  "It wasn’t intentional. One of the juveniles escaped the ice cave before it collapsed. It swam straight into our holding tank on the battleship we had prepared for the adult."

  "You better be joking, Andrews."

  "No, I’m not. We moved the creature to a secured facility in Florida where it's been under observation ever since. That was, until this morning. We were transporting the creature to a new location when the truck was hijacked. Long story short, the creature was set free and we want you to help us get it back."

  "You're telling me there is another one of those things out there in the ocean?"

  Andrews loosened his tie, squirming under the fierce gaze of Rainwater. "Yes, I’m afraid so."

  He expected Rainwater to scream or perhaps even launch himself across the desk. Instead, he leaned in, speaking in a near whisper, the alcohol on his breath hot and pungent. "You know what we went through to kill that thing. All of us. You know the sacrifices we made."

  "I know, please-"

  "My friend died to make sure that thing was stopped. You agreed it had to happen. You were there."

  "Henry, please-"

  "And now you drag me in here to tell me you've had one in captivity for all this time, and now that it's escaped you want my help to find it."

  "Just let me explain. I-"

  "Shut up," Rainwater hissed. "Let me make it crystal clear for you. This isn’t my problem anymore. Whatever it is you want, I’m not interested. This fucking monster has already taken too much from me. It's left me a shell. My friend died, my brother's widow couldn’t take anymore and killed herself. Don’t you think I've sacrificed enough?"

  "Please, calm down. Let me explain what we need-"

  "No. I don’t want to know. This is your monster now. You clean up the mess."

  "Henry, listen to reason. You know how dangerous this creature is. If we don’t capture it before it reaches its full size, then-"

  "Save it. I'm not interested. You might be better speaking to Clara. She's a money grabbing attention seeking bitch these days by all accounts. I’m sure she'd help you if you waved a handful of money at her."

  "Please, Henry, you have a responsibility-"

  "No, I don’t. My responsibility ended when that ice cave came down. If you chose to capture this thing and then let it go again, then it's your responsibility. I don’t have the strength to go through this again."

  "Can you live with yourself if this thing starts to kill again?" Andrews asked.

  “I struggle to live with myself every day as it is. You think I didn’t see it on your face when you walked in here? Fucking look at me. This is what your creature did to me. Nothing good can come from this. Only pain and death. You should have left it to die with its mother."

  "Henry, please, you're making a huge mistake."

  "No, you're the one who made the mistake. This time you can deal with it yourself. You're no better than Russo."

  "That's below the belt," Andrews said. "You must understand there's a chain of command. I have orders too, it's how it works."

  "I don’t care about that. I just want out of here."

  "What is there for you out there? What kind of life are you going back to? How long will getting shitfaced drunk everyday satisfy you? This is a chance to redeem yourself, it-"

  "You may as well just stop. Yes I drink, but only to blot out the pain of what happened last time. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, but I’ll tell you this, it's better than the thought of going out after that thing again. Not after what happened last time."

  "Is there nothing I can say to change your mind?" Andrews said.

  "This fish could eat its way around every coastline from here to Australia, and you still couldn’t get me to go out there. Get some other idiot to do your dirty work. You're wasting your time asking me."

  Andrews nodded. Far from being surprised, he could actually see Rainwaters point for the most part. The man had already suffered enough, and by the condition he was in, there was no way he had anything to do with the creature escaping.

  "Oaky, Henry," he said with a sigh, "point taken. If you wait here I’ll have someone escort you off the premises."

  "You have to kill this thing. You must know capturing it isn’t an option."

  It was the most lucid thing Rainwater had said since he arrived. For a split second, Andrews saw beyond the fog induced by alcohol to the man who Rainwater used to be.

  "Well, that won’t be your concern. Soon enough, you'll be back to your life of drinking and self-pity."

  "Forget the guilt trip. This is your mess. Not mine."

  “And I’ll clean it up.”

  “By killing it?”

  “As I said, that’s not your concern.”

  “You surely know that trying to capture this thing is a mistake? Remember what happened last time. Really think about it.”

  “I remember, and trust me, I won’t make the same mistakes again.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Greg Michaels threw another shot of Vodka down his neck, the fire barely bothering him anymore. Perched on the end seat of the bar in his usual spot, he rapped his knuckles on the oak surface. Like magic, the bartender appeared, refilling his glass, knowing by now not to make small talk. The leather skinned Australian pushed his fringe out of his eyes and thought it was a wonder how easily he had adapted to doing things left handed. The fleshy stump of his right hand brought back memories - memories of the time when everything went to hell. Many things were hazy in his day to day life, which seemed to muddle from one day to the next, a monotonous groundhog day of misery and frustration. The memories of that day though, would never die. He closed his eyes and it came to him in all too horrific clarity - the day, which had started out as an easy charter to take a tourist shark spotting and ended in disaster.

  It had all gone fine until he and his paying customer was down in the cage and some...thing came out of the darkness, which changed the trajectory of his life forever. Something so immense it defied logic. He took another sip from his glass, savouring both flavour and memories alike.

  The creature propelled itself forward. Greg watched in awe as its greenish grey body passed him, and so large was the creature, it filled his field of vision for what felt like an age. He saw a sliver of sharp teeth in the partially open jaw, as the vast animal snagged the side of beef away with a single, effortless bite. He knew he should check on his client, but was so mesmerised by the giant yards away from him, he couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away from it. The creature nudged the cage as it passed, and for a split second, Greg lost his grip, snatching twice at the bars before managing to restore his hold. It was then he saw the great white ascend from below. It was big, at least an eighteen footer. Even it looked tiny in comparison to the immense creature. The white had been drawn in by the bloody carcass, and unlike its brethren
, it had not fled from the creature. It was only when Greg saw the other sharks appearing out of the darkness that he thought he understood what was happening. Hunters in their own right, the sharks were ready to respond to the new threat by challenging its supremacy.

  It was at that precise second that fear replaced the thrill, and Greg turned towards his client, who was still staring wide eyed at the creature. It seemed he hadn't noticed the sharks, which Greg thought could be a good thing. He shook Paul by the shoulder, snapping him to attention. His intention had been to give the instruction to ascend, yet, when he looked towards the surface, the path was blocked by great whites, which were circling and waiting to attack. As experienced as he was, he would never risk swimming to the surface, especially as the whites looked ready to attack at any given moment. Instead, he pointed to the cage, swimming to the roof and pulling open the hatch. Paul had noticed the sharks now too, and his eyes flicked wildly between the giant creature and its potential attackers. Greg banged on the cage to get Paul's attention, watching as one of the whites cautiously darted closer to the creature, then retreated. He banged his fist on the cage roof again, and although Paul briefly looked at him, he didn't move. He released his grip on the door and moved towards the edge of the cage roof, grabbing Paul by the shoulder and finally getting his attention. Perhaps it was the fear or desperation in his eyes, or the gravity of the situation finally hitting home which forced him into action. He inched his way up the side of the cage between frightened glances at the gathering sharks. Greg dragged him the rest of the way, yanked open the hatch and shoved Paul inside. He followed and pulled the door closed, and not a moment too soon. One of the larger whites, a twenty two foot male, charged towards the creature and snapped at one of its tentacles. The reaction was devastating. The creature lunged for the shark, shearing away a huge flap of its underbelly in a single bite. As the great white convulsed and sank into the depths, its brethren as one began to attack.