by Greig Beck
He never saw or heard what came next as his eyes and ears imploded inwards. Next, the glass tore in at them, and water, pressurized to thousands of pounds per square inch, blasted inwards, crushing the three men’s bodies to a pulp in an instant.
* * *
The sudden implosion and escaping gas caused the Megalodon shark to spit out its prize. It circled the crushed remains, momentarily confused. There was nothing in the waters that it feared other than larger members of its own kind. Anything else was little more than a potential food source.
At first there seemed nothing edible about the hard-shelled intruder, and the attack had been more a territorial display of dominance rather than a feeding run. But, strangely, it had detected life. The cavernous mouth gaped open, displaying row upon row of huge serrated teeth, and above the maw, the snout had hundreds of lateral pores that were attuned to electrical impulses. It had detected the running currents within the entity, and also the minute heartbeats of living things.
And now, moving through the cloud of debris surrounding the sinking object, it smelled the blood and fragments of edible flesh. It tasted the floating fragments and became excited by their flavors.
The huge creature surged toward the thing once again; hunger now flaring in its gut. But the obliterated protein debris couldn’t possibly sate it. It circled, its loops growing wider as it searched for, and then picked up, the object’s trail.
With the flick of its huge tail it surged upward, following the scent, back to where that strange entity had come from, and where it knew another of the hard-shelled things hid.
CHAPTER 17
Coast guard HQ canteen, Long Beach, California
“I feel sick,” Cate said as she stared into her cup of swirling coffee. “I should have been there.”
Jack reached forward to place his hands around hers. “No, you shouldn’t have; you made the right call, Cate. We both did.”
She gave a bitter laugh. “The demon never forgot him, never let him go. You said it went back to hell. But it didn’t, did it? It just waited down in the deep for him to come to it.”
“Cate, stop it,” Jack said. “It was in Vince’s DNA to save people. That’s why he was in the coast guard to begin with. Look around,” Jack waved an arm to the other tables of men and women in uniform. “Each and every one of these guys would have done what he did.”
Her gaze lifted. “Even if they knew what was down there?”
His eyes bored into her. “Maybe. Probably. They risk their lives to save others. That’s what they do.”
Cate sighed. ”Then why do I feel like shit?” She turned as the canteen doors banged inwards. “Oh, god, no.”
Regina Boxer stormed through the doors, snapping her head left and right until she found them, and then strode toward them with an expression like thunder creasing her face.
Jack turned to her, holding up a hand. “Regina, we’re so sorr—”
Regina ignored him and lunged at Cate, grabbing her hair in one hand and slapping her face with the other.
Cate let it happen, sucked it in, feeling she deserved the pain.
“You fucking let him go down,” Regina yelled as she pummeled down on Cate’s face. Jack pushed his chair back as others in the room reacted. Regina continued to slap and beat at Cate’s upturned face as Jack bear-hugged her and dragged her off.
Regina still held a clump of Cate’s hair, words and spit flying as she screamed her anger. “When he was trying to tell everyone what was down there, you went AWOL.” She breathed heavily, her eyes streaming with tears.
Other coast guard personnel hovered, but Jack held her. In a moment she collapsed in his arms.
He looked down at her and saw she had her fists up in front of her face now – some of Cate’s hair was still in one of them.
“Regina, you know him better than I do. Vince would have gone, regardless. You know that.”
“You mean knew him!” Her face slowly turned to his. Her teeth were clamped. She pushed him in the chest, hard, and backed up. “Oh yeah, I knew him. I knew he wanted you with him. He needed you with him.”
Regina lifted an arm, her finger extended like a gun pointed right at them. “And you want to know the kicker?” she seethed. “He went down there to save your fucking friend – your friend. He died trying to help them, because you didn’t want to know.”
Cate stood up. “What?”
“That’s bullshit.” Jack tried to get between them.
“Oh yeah?” Regina’s eyes blazed. “Then show some balls, and kill it – for Vincent, for everyone else this thing has killed, and before it kills your friend still stuck down in the abyss.” She held up a fist to Jack. “And this time, you really kill it. You fucking owe him that much.”
Someone finally led Regina away but Jack could still feel the heat and fury in her gaze. He grabbed Cate’s arm and slowly sat down next to her. She stared at the table, and he just sat there, feeling like shit.
He felt everyone in the canteen staring at him, and he looked up to glare back at a few people. Jack was a big guy, and after a moment everyone went back to their own business.
“Cate.” He reached out for her, but she put her hands up to each side of her head, elbows on the table, and remained staring down at its empty surface. Jack saw a tear drop onto the table. After a moment she looked up.
“What did she mean Vincent went down there to save my friend?”
Jack shook his head, his first instinct being to continue with a lie to heal, rather than a truth to hurt. But he knew when she found out she’d hate him.
He sighed. “Samantha Britt is one of the people in the submersible trapped on the bottom.”
She blinked as the information sunk in. “Sammy Britt?” She started to laugh as her eyes welled up again. “Of course she’d be down there.” Cate leaned her head back on her shoulders, her eyes red rimmed and shining.
After a moment she sat forward and turned to Jack. Now her eyes burned with defiance and determination. “We have to do something. We will do something.”
CHAPTER 18
Abyssal Plain, 2397 feet down
“Those poor men,” Sam said softly.
“They’re dead,” Andy said, many minutes later, and then slumped in his seat.
“It was waiting for them the whole time.” Wade ran both hands up through his hair.
“And now we’re on our own again.” Sam felt a heavy blanket of depression settle over her.
They’d watched helplessly as the bathyscaphe was attacked, grabbed, and then dragged over the edge of the chasm and down into the trench. The speed, monstrous size, power and ferocity of the prehistoric shark had stunned them all to silence for many minutes.
They’d all felt the vibrations as the implosion had rippled across the seabed. They’d dared not switch on any lights, and Andy had even thrown a sweater across the sonar screen to cut down on its minuscule glow.
He peeked at it now. “There’s nothing on the scope.” He lowered the cloth again. “But it could be just over the lip patrolling the trench wall.”
“You can bet it is,” Wade spat. “Just waiting for the next bunch of saps to come down. Or more likely, trying to find us.”
“Hang on,” Andy said as the pulse of a text message alert came from their comm. screen.
“It’s the navy vessel,” Andy said and the trio watched as the message spelled itself out across the screen.
Lost contact with Argonautica. Are you in visual? Please advise status.
Sam, Wade and Andy stared at the message. After a moment Wade turned away, busying himself with tasks at his console. Andy also continued to stare at the eleven words as if they were the most complex language ever written down.
Sam reached forward to respond. Her fingers hovered for a moment as her mind trialed and rejected several responses. She began:
Argonautica attacked. No visual, but high probability DSV destroyed. All hands assumed lost.
Andy and Wade now watched as her
fingers flexed for a moment, before she finished with one vital piece of data:
Confirm: giant shark.
She pressed send.
They all waited as the minutes ticked by. Finally the comm. system warned of an incoming message again.
God bless their souls. Stand by. Captain Nelson. Over.
“Yeah, we’ll do that,” Wade said bitterly, and slumped back.
Silence reigned. None of them would have been able to recollect exactly how much time passed as they sat lost in their own thoughts – easily hours – as reality seemed to become disengaged from their tiny encased world.
“So here we are,” Andy finally mumbled.
“Yeah.” Wade’s jaw was set. “Here we are, as our power and air runs down. They won’t be coming back in a hurry.” He turned in his seat. “So, we have two choices: we either die slowly on the seabed, or we make a break for it.”
“Even if we could, we’d never make it. That thing will swallow us whole before we made it 200 feet,” Andy replied.
“Only if it hears or sees us. So we float up, no power. The bubble has high buoyancy, more so if we drop everything unnecessary. It’d take hours, but so what.” Wade raised his chin, demanding their responses.
“I’m for making a break for it but we’re still hooked up,” Sam said. “We can’t even release the escape pod while the cables are over the rear of Alvin’s superstructure.”
“No, we can’t.” Wade exhaled through his nose, his gaze level. “Not from in here anyway.”
Sam frowned, trying to work out what the cryptic comment meant, until it dawned on her. “Oh god; someone takes a walk in the ADS suit. Outside.”
Wade nodded slowly. “Yeah, and that thing is a two-legged tank; it can cut the cables if need be, but I’m betting it can just pull them free.”
“Insane, but might work,” Andy said.
“Has to work. Give me some other options,” Wade challenged.
They sat for a few moments, and Sam could only think of one other alternative – do nothing – simply sit and wait for another rescue attempt. But she knew the reality was, even if one was planned, by the time the people above organized it, arrived, and then got down to them, and if they managed to avoid the monster on the way down, all they’d be doing was recovering three dead bodies.
“I can’t see any other good options,” she said at last. “So I guess we have a plan.” Sam turned to the dark glass. In its reflection, lit by the few green dots of light they weren’t able to cover, she saw a pale green ghost of herself. “And that leaves one tiny question – who gets to go for a walk?”
* * *
“Contact, sir.” Seaman Miller, the sonar officer, leaned forward, his brow knitted.
“What have you got, seaman?” Captain Nelson ambled closer. Depression and fatigue still weighed heavily on his shoulders following the words from the Alvin about the loss of his crew aboard the Argonautica DSV. As the sunlight vanished, he knew that, for now, he had no plan B.
“Large signature, coming up fast.” The man listened intently and read the data off his screen.
“Speed?” Nelson asked, folding his arms and standing behind the man.
“Real fast, sir, eighty knots.” Seaman Miller blew air through his lips. “And it’s big, sixty feet at least.”
“Whale size. But moving way too fast.” Nelson’s eyes narrowed. Fast submarines usually cruised at about thirty knots, about thirty-two miles per hour, and the fastest fish in these parts was the black marlin that clocked in at a whopping 110 knots or 120 miles per hour. But whales of that size could only manage around twenty knots.
“Position?” Nelson asked. Beside him his second in command, 1st lieutenant Warren Johnson handed him a pair of field glasses, and raised a pair to his own eyes.
“Still 500 feet down, directly below us,” Miller said.
Nelson stared out at the darkening water for a moment, but then turned. “Sound general quarters, secure bulkhead doors, all personnel to their stations.”
The bridge burst into activity as his second-in-command repeated the orders. A klaxon horn sounded, and people on deck scurried to positions and duties they had run through in drills numerous time.
Nelson didn’t think anything that size could cause them too much trouble, however, he would have said the same thing about the Archimedes.
“One hundred feet, still right below us, but slowing, sir.” Miller listened as he continued to stare at the multiple screens in front of him. The man was so experienced he could collate the varying bits of data and interpret them as a coherent signature profile.
“Circling now, right underneath us.”
Nelson waited, his sea legs spread in the event of an impact.
“Surfacing,” Seaman Miller lifted his head. “Distance, 500 feet, 300 degrees, forward port side.”
Nelson lifted his field glasses, and slowly scanned the area his sonar officer had indicated. The sea was dark with a small chop from a northerly breeze. The sinking sun created a golden highway down its surface and he was about to start his scan again when a lump slowly rose on the surface.
“What the hell is it?” Lieutenant Johnson asked almost reverently.
The massive conical object hung there for nearly a minute before it slowly sunk back down.
“Diving deep again.” The sonar officer angled his head as he listened again to the scanner’s pulses and clicks.
Nelson straightened and looked at Johnson. “That, son, is the devil. Come up from hell to take a look at us.”
Captain Nelson exhaled. Now he knew for sure, there was no plan B. The crew of the Alvin was on their own.
* * *
“I’ll do it.” Sam felt a little nauseous even as she spoke the words. “I’ve trialed an ADS in the NASA testing tank. If you give me a thumbnail overview of how the suit works in deep water, I can do it.” She turned and gave the pair a watery smile. “Besides, I’m the only one that’s expendable in this tin can.”
Wade returned her smile. “Even a thumbnail overview would take longer than we’ve got. It’s got to be Andy or me; we’re the only ones fully trained in deep water and open ocean – it makes a big difference. And besides, we—”
“I’ll do it,” Andy said. “Been dying to get back into an ADS. Never been this deep, over half a mile down.” His grin was unconvincing. “It’ll be like walking on an alien planet.”
Sam waved him off. “Pfft – he’s no better qualified than me at these depths. I called it first.”
“Nope, sorry guys; I’m the senior member of the crew, and I get to have final say – I’m going.”
“Draw straws.” Andy wouldn’t give up.
“Did you bring any?” Wade chuckled. “It’s my decision, and besides, I’m bigger than you both, and I’ll tell you, that even with its hydraulic-assisted system, the ADS is a bastard to maneuver. Gonna be like lead out in water that’s the equivalent of 100 atmospheres of pressure.” He gave the red-haired biologist a crooked smile. “And if someone has to move quickly, you know it’s me not you who can do it.”
“But …” Andy raised a finger.
“My decision is final. You get to help me into the suit. And then the pair of you get to be my eyes and ears. Okay?” He looked at each of them, his eyes unflinching.
“Okay, you got it.” Sam already felt shit scared for the guy.
She knew he’d try and stay off the seafloor as down here it would more than likely be like quicksand. Wade would try and clamber over the wreck of the Archimedes, and also over Alvin’s superstructure, keeping as far away from the silt as he could.
Access to the ADS suit was from the bottom of Alvin, where it was held horizontal in a capsule like a coffin. The wearer dropped in through a hatch in the bottom of the submersible, climbed inside the rear of the suit and then sealed themselves in. The suit, followed by the tiny compartment it was in, was then made air- and watertight. Then control was handed over to the suit-wearer, who could deploy themselves by exiti
ng the hatch.
“So, my biologist friend,” Wade lifted his chin to Sam. “Tell me everything I need to know about sharks in sixty seconds.”
Sam pulled in one cheek. “I can tell you about shark characteristics that I assume this thing will share. But I think this form of creature hasn’t been seen for over a million years, so there are bound to be differences.”
He sighed. “I’ll take whatever you’ve got, Sam.”
“Okay, sorry.” There was real fear in the big man’s face, so she hurriedly collected her thoughts. “The good and the bad.”
“You mean for me out there?” Wade smiled.
“Yeah, I guess,” Sam said, and Wade’s smile dropped. She began. “Sharks are fast, not the fastest creatures in the ocean by any means, but they can put on bursts of speed that top out at twenty-five miles per hour – so that’s bad; and there’s no telling how fast this monster can push itself – twice as fast? More?”
“Okay, so no getting caught out in the open.” Wade listened intently.
“But they tire easily, so that’s good.”
“Check,” he said.
“On each side of a shark’s head, there are two nostril-like nares that drew water in and over the olfactory lamellae, a huge sensitive area that registers smells. They can detect a single drop of blood or urine in sea currents many miles wide. That’s also good, as you’ll be encased in the suit, so no smells.”
Wade nodded.
“They have five rows of teeth, 276 teeth all up, and each a serrated cutting and tearing tool. The material they’re made from, dentin, is extremely hard, and they have one of the strongest bite pressures in the world. This thing would be … well …”
“I get it; even if I’m in the suit, if I end up in its mouth then I can kiss my ass goodbye.” Wade gave her a half lidded look. “What else?”