Evan spoke into Kelly’s earpiece. “There are several species of saltwater crocs. While they usually stick to the marshes, it’s not unprecedented to find them in the ocean. I’ve never heard of any being this far from shore though.”
“How’d it get so big?” Kelly asked. Evan was the herpetologist, and she wisely deferred to his expertise with reptiles.
“The largest I’ve encountered had metabolism issues. Even those pale in comparison to this thing.”
She navigated the Simon in a circle as the creature passed through the periphery of their vision.
“We can’t allow it to get anywhere near the coast.”
“If people learn what’s hunting in the waters off Florida — ”
“Tourism would be crippled,” she said. “And every yahoo with a shotgun would want to kill it.”
“Luckily not every yahoo has billions of dollars at his disposal,” Evan said. Oscar Wright was a major concern — specifically, how to keep the Leviathan away from the old man. “It’s not solely a danger underwater. If it moved onto shore, it’d blaze a path of destruction through unsuspecting coastal towns.”
“The camera,” Kelly reminded him. “Get some pictures.” Both of them were so overwhelmed by the animal, they forgot about the actual research for a moment.
Evan snapped a few photos and wasn’t pleased with the results. “You’ll have to get closer if you want anything more than a blur.”
The blennies regrouped as a solitary mass. The creature took a second swipe through them, its jaws widened to an alarming degree as it scooped up slower fish.
Evan clicked several dozen images with the camera, over fifty in all.
The Leviathan started out of the area, bearing north. “Keep on it,” the ranger said. The Simon trailed the crocodile at a safe distance. To their starboard was a wall of rock. “Fifty meters and descending.”
The only part of the beast they saw clearly from the rear was the tail, which swept back and forth to propel itself onward.
“How far out are the marlins?” Evan whispered into Kelly’s earpiece.
Bart said, “Twenty yards, give or take. You’re right behind them.”
“Copy that.”
“What are you gonna call it?” the captain asked. “Don’t scientists get to name their discoveries?”
“We need outside verification before anything like that happens,” Kelly said.
After a long pause Bart said, “You should name it after me.”
Kelly smiled. “I’ll take that into consideration.”
At once the beast raced from view, disappeared into the blue void and left them behind. The marine biologist increased the Simon’s speed to catch up. With engines topping out, the submersible had difficulty matching the Leviathan. “How fast does this go?” Evan asked.
“Fifteen knots, max. I can’t push it any harder than I am.”
In time they caught up to the Leviathan as it rested, devouring the remains of an unfortunate sailfish.
“How long have we been down?” Kelly asked.
Evan checked his wristwatch. “A little under forty minutes.”
“It hasn’t taken a single breath this entire time.”
“That’s not surprising. A normal croc can stay underwater for two hours in winter, when its metabolism is slower. Something that size shouldn’t need air but a handful of times each day.”
The Leviathan stopped eating — it didn’t chew so much as swallow large chunks of meat whole — and stared at the Simon.
“It’s looking at us,” Kelly said.
Out the porthole Evan spied a precipice of rock. “Get behind that sheer face. It may perceive us as a threat if we’re too close. Ease off a bit.”
The Simon traveled behind the cliff. “We probably appear like a slow-moving whale to it.”
“Let’s stay away from food analogies,” Evan said.
The creature resumed gorging, itself content any danger had subsided.
The scientists watched for several minutes, marveling at its body and feeding habits. The crocodile had a pale underside and ridges along its back. It was black and dark green on top, a distinct speckled band along its lateral sides.
“Status report,” the earpiece chirped.
“We’re doing fine,” she told the captain.
Evan said, “We should head back to the surface.”
“A bit longer,” she pleaded. Her tone was the same as a child who begged to stay up just ten more minutes past bedtime.
Evan filled the memory card of his digital camera before Kelly agreed to leave. They had been under forty-eight minutes exactly before she informed the Aurora they were returning.
“Roger that, we’ll keep an eye out for you,” Bart said.
To save fuel and energy, it was smarter to ascend first and then navigate back to the Aurora from the surface. Kelly pressed a button marked AIR, and the Simon slowly began to rise.
Evan checked the depth gauge. “Forty-five meters.”
The Leviathan twitched, coiled as if ready to strike.
“Forty meters.”
The gargantuan creature made swift progress toward the submersible. Its giant head passed the bow. Its eyes transfixed the marine biologist. The crocodile had an intelligent gaze, the kind normally reserved for animals with high-functioning brain activity. There was no maliciousness behind them, only instinct. Millions of years’ worth of instinct. Neither scientist moved or breathed as the Leviathan swam by.
When it disappeared both of them exhaled in relief.
Suddenly a four-fingered hand topped with nine-inch claws scratched the Simon’s starboard. Inside the confined spaced it sounded like a thousand fingernails scratching chalkboard.
“It doesn’t want us above it,” the ranger said. “It’s taking that as a sign of aggression. It thinks we’re trying to dominate it. Go down.”
“Descending,” Kelly said as she released excess oxygen from the air bladders. “Thirty meters . . . thirty-five . . . forty . . . ”
The submersible sank at a fast rate, yet the crocodile refused to leave it alone. “What should we do?” Kelly asked. The panic in her voice unnerved Evan.
“Stay calm,” he said for both their sakes.
The Leviathan again assaulted the submarine, its teeth grabbing hold of the robotic arm on the prow. It snapped the steel manipulator between its jaws.
Evan saw the diversion as an opportunity to escape. “Now. Up, up.”
“Forty meters . . . thirty-five.”
The submersible rocketed toward the surface. Realizing the metallic appendage wasn’t food, the Leviathan dropped the piece of wreckage and chased after the submersible. At fifteen knots the mini-sub was too slow for the beast.
“Faster — faster,” Evan said.
“It doesn’t go any faster,” she shouted.
“You’ll have to take defensive countermeasures.” Through the rear viewport Evan watched the creature rush toward them, its maw unhinged to reveal a white gullet. And sharp teeth. Ascending at a forty-five-degree angle, the only thing keeping the researchers alive was a titanium hull and five inches of Plexiglas.
Kelly veered the craft sharply right, before leveling off and going south toward the Aurora. The Leviathan stayed several lengths behind, toying with its quarry. “We can’t outrun it,” Evan said. “Stop, keep still.”
“Are you insane?”
“Just do it.”
She shut off the thrusters, gliding to a stop sixty feet beneath the waves. The giant crocodile passed the Simon before making another sweep around. Inside Kelly and Evan were covered in sweat, listening to their own heartbeats reverberating in their ears.
“What’s going on down there?” Bart said.
Kelly dug out her earbud and whispered, “End communication ‘til further notice.”
The captain said, “Please repeat.”
“Shut the hell up,” she said and threw down the microphone. “What’s the plan now?” Kelly asked the ranger.
>
“It’s pursuing us because we’re trying to escape, something only prey does. If we don’t make any quick motions, maybe it’ll move along.”
“I don’t like the sound of that maybe.”
Evan glanced out the porthole, saw the Leviathan circling like a vulture. “How much air do we have?”
“Suffocation is the least of our problems.”
“If it bites at us, it’s only to learn whether we’re food. Once it knows we’re nothing tasty, it should leave.”
“But it already ate the robotic arm,” she said.
Evan thought about the possibilities. “The arm.” He crawled over Kelly to look out the main window. Although most of the appendage had been torn away, a sharpened spike of twisted steel remained. “We can use it as a weapon.”
“How?” Kelly reminded herself that she needed to restrain her rampant fear if she wanted to remain clearheaded. Or alive.
“Every animal has certain points of weakness, no matter how powerful it is.”
She saw where he was going with this. “Uh-uh, don’t think I’m gonna — ”
“It’s our only option.”
The Leviathan stayed in the water around them, mouth agape. It was hard to judge its distance. The crocodile had moved toward the submersible in increments, making its way with a detached coolness afforded to the fiercest predators. Only five yards off, the beast dwarfed the mini-sub.
The tip of its snout was a few feet away, as if it smelled the craft. Suddenly the water between the two objects came to a roiling boil. The liquid instantly transformed into a frothy tempest. The Plexiglas didn’t shatter so much as crack with a popgun sound that jarred the researchers. “It’ll hold,” Evan said. “It’ll hold.”
He wasn’t sure it would hold.
The sub’s rising temperature had become intolerable, taking the breath from their lungs and choking them in a hot blanket of air.
“We need to make a last ditch effort to get to the surface,” Evan whispered. “Aim for the eyes and head to the top on the count of five. One . . . two . . . three . . . ”
The Leviathan’s jaws closed around the front end of the Simon with a bite pressure of eighteen thousand pounds per square inch. Its teeth ripped through the sides of the submersible.
“Five!” Evan yelled. “Five-five-five!”
The submarine began to rise. The noise inside was deafening as the titanium hull groaned under immense tension.
“The eyes,” he said.
“I’m trying, I’m trying.” The computer console was searing, almost too hot to touch. “I can’t maneuver the arm. It’s stuck.” She realized the problem was far worse than that. “We’re flying blind,” she said. The marine biologist frantically pressed toggles and levers — nothing responded. “Everything’s disabled.”
Keeping the Simon in its mouth, the Leviathan spun in concentric circles. Inside the sub Kelly and Evan tumbled about like clothes in a dryer.
And then it stopped.
The only sound that remained was Kelly’s shrill screams.
Neither of them heard the leaks until other noises ceased.
Water rivulets poured into the cabin where the Leviathan’s teeth had once penetrated the hull.
But not anymore. Because water seeped into the Simon, that meant the creature must’ve released the submersible.
The marine biologist had landed atop Evan.
“Do you see it anywhere?” he asked weakly.
Kelly looked out the window and saw only water. There was no way to tell their depth — whether they were rising to safety or sinking to their deaths — and she dimly thought if the Simon ascended upside-down at the surface, they’d be trapped.
The creature hadn’t pierced the air tanks, so the mini-sub drifted upward . . .
Upward . . .
Upward . . .
The submersible finally burst through the waves like a breached whale. It leveled out and stayed afloat, lower in the water than normal but buoyant nonetheless.
“You think Bart sees us?” Evan asked. “Do we have any flares?”
“None in here.” She searched around and retrieved the earpiece. “Bart? Come in, Bart. This is Kelly. Mayday — repeat, mayday.” Silence. The radio must’ve also broken during the chaos. “Get that hatch open,” she said. “We have maybe an hour before this place fills entirely and sinks like a rock.”
“I hope the Aurora’s out there,” Evan said. If the research vessel was within sight, it might spot the Simon. Better still, if it was within shouting distance they could call for rescue.
Kelly watched the murkiness outside the submersible. In the distance was a shifting shadow — growing, solidifying.
The Leviathan had returned for more.
“It’s coming back,” she said.
“Either we die in here or outside.” Evan pointed to the conning tower. “I’d rather take my chances out there. You with me?”
She nodded as he twisted the hatch loose. Flinging it open, sunlight flooded his vision with blinding brightness. The light hurt his eyes, but he’d never been so happy to see the sun.
The sound around them was loud and disorienting. It took a moment for Evan’s vision to adjust. When it did his gaze fell upon their rescuers.
“Thank God you’re here,” the ranger said.
“Don’t give Him the credit,” a voice replied. “I’m the one who showed up.”
It belonged to Oscar Wright.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
WRIGHT’S HELICOPTER HOVERED thirty feet above the Simon, so close the noise from the overhead rotors was uncomfortable.
“What’s that?” Kelly shouted behind Evan, unable to see for herself.
“We’re being airlifted out.” When he glanced at Kelly, he saw she was already ankle-deep in saltwater.
Evan shielded his eyes from the chopper’s stiff downdraft. A tuft of white hair peered from over the skids. The ranger cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Never thought we’d be glad to see you.”
Moments later a rope ladder dropped from the aircraft, dangling several feet away. Cautiously Evan scanned the surroundings for the creature.
While nothing was in sight, the Leviathan could be nearby. Evan thought he saw a flash in the water — a glint of sunshine off the waves maybe — then it was gone. If the creature were out there, the helicopter’s high decibels would keep it at bay. At least he hoped so.
“Climb aboard,” the billionaire said.
Evan gripped the ladder and ascended halfway before checking on Kelly. The marine biologist scrambled out of the submersible, a look of chagrin on her face when she realized who’d come to offer help.
Kelly crawled out of the mini-sub and stood atop the sinking vessel as she tightened the main hatch. “There’s no time for that,” the ranger said.
“If I don’t close up, it’ll sink a helluva lot faster.” She twisted it shut then grabbed the end of the rope. Through the windshield she spied Ian Thorpe at the controls. The hunter was stone-faced, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.
“Com’on,” Evan urged. She scaled a few rungs before the chopper took off. Don’t look down, she told herself.
The researchers were suspended fifty feet in the air. Kelly had her arms and legs wrapped around the ladder for dear life. She wasn’t going to fall. She wasn’t going to fall. She was not going to fall.
Evan Hale enjoyed the ride more than his partner. From this high vantage point, he spotted the stranded sub two hundred yards south of the Aurora. Anchored nearby was the billionaire’s yacht.
Approximately six hundred feet separated the Aurora from the mini-sub. And in the midst of that gulf lurked the Leviathan.
Evan observed the creature as they soared overhead, a shadow in the water. The animal stared at the helicopter and headed toward them as it sped toward the Naglfar and the research vessel. Its snout protruded from the waves and snapped several times at the tempting meal just out of reach.
Oscar Wright peered out th
e door and saw the animal too. “I’ll be back for you,” he promised the Leviathan.
The helicopter hovered over the Aurora, slowly lowering until the bottom of the rope ladder touched the weather deck. Kelly climbed down and jumped off then watched Evan do the same. Both of them were surprised when the old man started down the rope himself.
A group had gathered on deck to watch the rescue mission. Bart, Rafe and several interns had amassed, brought together by the chopper’s commotion. Wright rushed to the scientists and called to the engineer. “Rafe, grab a couple dry towels and something for them to drink.”
“Sure ting,” the Jamaican said and headed to the galley.
“What happened down there?” the captain asked. “Your microphone cut out after it sounded like all hell broke loose.”
“That thing assaulted us,” Kelly said. “It nearly destroyed the Simon.”
The old man gripped Evan by the shoulder and spun around the ranger. “The creature out there, it was — ”
“Your Leviathan, yes.”
“I only saw it from the chopper, but you were in the water with it. Tell me something — ”
“We really appreciate your help,” Kelly told the billionaire. “Without you we could’ve been killed.”
“I expected to die too,” Evan confided.
The marine biologist elbowed him in the ribs. “I recall you saying we’d be fine.”
“I thought we would be. That attack was totally unprovoked.”
The old man waved to Thorpe then pointed at the Naglfar. The chopper returned to the yacht located alongside the Aurora.
Kelly couldn’t stop shaking from shock. Her nervous system hadn’t yet registered her safety. The excessive adrenaline made her queasy, that nausea exacerbated by the ocean’s rolling waves.
“What did the beast look like?” the old man asked. “I have to know.”
Kelly and Evan exchanged a glance. Neither wanted to tell Wright the truth. Grateful as they were for his intervention, they weren’t gullible. Oscar Wright had earned their gratitude, not their trust.
“We’re not entirely certain,” Evan said.
Kelly held up the camera that hung around her neck. “We took quite a few photos and need to analyze the data before we reach any conclusions.”
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