Abyss

by Greig Beck

  CHAPTER 41

  The Megalodon shark had caught the scent of the strange thing many miles back down in the trench depths. It had circled for a while until it found the trail and then headed upwards.

  It knew the hard-shelled animals contained meat, but it also knew they were intruding on its territory. It had killed them before, and it would kill them again.

  It increased its speed, its mouth hanging open as it allowed the water to wash over the olfactory lamellae sensory organs that were packed into its snout. It was homing in on its prey.

  CHAPTER 42

  ​Captain Nemo farewells his Nautilus

  Mironov disengaged his radio link with the Nautilus pod. The sound of Sonya’s scream tore at him. He wished there was a way to touch her, smell her, or even see her face, one more time.

  He knew the race to the surface was being lost. The shark would never let any of them leave the water. It was too fast, too strong, too ferocious and single-minded. This creature from their primordial past was not something you bargained with or reasoned with. You either killed it, or you died. That had been its rules for twenty million years.

  He looked up. When he had disengaged from the submersibles they had only been 500 feet from the surface, and he could just make out the soft glow of the sky high above him. The outline of the two submersibles still filled his vision, but grew smaller and smaller as they drifted up and he used the last of his remaining energy to power down into the black depths.

  He lifted an arm. Captain Nemo farewells his Nautilus, he mused, and smiled dreamily. He didn’t really have a plan, but his hand clasped the triggering device that was attached to the warhead fixed to his chest. All he needed to do was open the cover exposing the button and then press down. Mironov flipped the top, trying to be as careful as he could – accidently pressing the button or one good knock against the impact-sensitive nose of the torpedo warhead and it’d explode with the force of around 500 pounds of TNT.

  His dreamy smile faded. That meant he didn’t really need to trigger it, as being taken by the monster surging up from below would surely obliterate him, but also the torpedo warhead.

  But what if it didn’t? What if it somehow missed and he went all the way down the gullet like some sort of Jonah and his whale? His death would have been for nothing. Andrews had jerry-rigged a thirty-second delay, supposedly enough time for him to float clear. But he knew that wasn’t possible, and the young man had known it too. Mironov’s final objective was to ensure everything was lined up.

  His fluttering stomach hated what he was doing, and the reptilian portion of his brain was screaming for fight or flight, but he ignored them both and rolled over to stare down into the pitiless darkness.

  He guessed the Megalodon shark would still be a few thousand feet down from him, but he saw shadows everywhere – darker shadows within shadows, and surging movement in the utter blackness.

  Cold started to seep in against his legs. The suit’s thermal heaters were shutting down. The first sign that his power source was about to comprehensively fail.

  Damn it, he thought; if it failed much more, he might not be able to power the gloves – and if need be, he would never be able to press the trigger and detonate the torpedo.

  The blinking panel of tiny green lights on the console at his chin started to turn an angry red. The suit was shutting down. The oxygen would be the last thing to go. He had finally run out of time.

  Mironov knew he had seconds of power remaining, and he saw two options to choose from: one was to do nothing and simply float down and pray the shark took him and bit just in the right place and set off the explosive. Or two, press the detonator now, hoping the suit and shark met in some sort of concussion proximity during the thirty-second delay.

  The suit’s warning lights began to blink angrily. The decision was about to be taken out of his hands. They would blink for several more seconds, before total shutdown, and then he’d be stuck in a 400-pound metal coffin.

  Sonya. Let me see her one more time.

  Fight or flight – he had to salvage something.

  Did he have to die? Perhaps not. His mind flew as a plan started to form. He could use the last ergs of energy to fill the suit with oxygen, increasing internal pressure, and then do two things in rapid succession – the first was to hit the trigger switch, starting the thirty-second countdown. The next was to separate the suit from the bulbous helmet.

  The pressure would force the oxygen up into the top of the helmet cavity, and undoubtedly burst his eardrums, plus he’d suffer from the bends. But he would heal, and he would live to see Sonya again.

  Now or never – I choose flight, flight, flight!

  Valery flooded the suit with air, and his eardrums began to scream at the sudden pressure increase. He then punched the trigger button, and disengaged the helmet from the suit while he used one metal arm to hold on to it. He wriggled free, and a ghostly white and weak creature emerged from its tough outer shell.

  He threw up a freed and naked arm from within the armored suit and grabbed one side of the helmet, then another. The bone-numbing cold felt like fire against his skin. Immediately, some of the remaining stinging cells of the giant jellyfish glued to the suit’s skin sent bolts of unbelievable pain into his hands and down his forearms. He screamed, but the shock to his system caused his hands to cramp and lock onto the helmet, as the body of the suit fell away and he shot upwards.

  Mironov screwed his eyes shut as it felt like a giant had his head in a vice. He stayed inside the air bubble and, even though it compressed upwards, it remained both a bubble of life and a portable buoyancy tank. But, regardless of the pain, he had to know, had to see. Mironov opened agonized eyes and looked down.

  He saw the suit, now filled with water, sink rapidly, carrying with it its deadly cargo. The shark could not have been far behind now. Sharks always attack the biggest target, he remembered Jack saying.

  His legs were freezing, and immediately numb, but the main sensation he had was of fear – his bare legs dangling free in the pitch-black water with a monster hurtling up from the abyss directly below him.

  Was that it? His mind was taunting him again with shadows within shadows. No, not yet.

  Mironov couldn’t watch anymore, and instead screwed his eyes shut against the pressure, and prayed, reaching out to any deity that might be listening. He tried to focus on the face of Sonya, seeing her luminous eyes, her smile, her strength and her fierce intelligence. He wanted her so bad that he almost wailed from the torment of it.

  He could sense the shark then. Maybe it was his imagination, or perhaps some base animal instinct that told a fleeing creature when a deadly predator was close by. He tried to draw his legs up, but the muscles wouldn’t work anymore. His fingers had curled into claws as his bubble of air dragged him toward the luminous surface.

  Please, he prayed again.

  * * *

  A thousand feet below, the massive Megalodon shark finally caught sight of its prey – fleeing creatures, several of them – the largest was nearing the surface, but smaller ones were there as well. It followed a scent trail that was like a highway to it, smelling the salts and oils of the mammalian creatures. They were similar to the great cetaceans, and they too exuded another scent – fear.

  The shark pumped its enormous scythe-like tail from side to side as it homed in. All its senses were focused on the things ahead of it. It quickly caught up to the first of them, but its senses told it the object was a lifeless thing falling back into the void. In the blink of an eye it had avoided it, instead chasing down the pale white thing fleeing to the surface light.

  This thing was alive, and exuded the sharp tang of fear. It was small, but the Megalodon had taken seals and whale calves of the same size. Its enormous maw opened as it bore down on the small white creature.

  * * *

  Mironov soared upwards toward the light, but instead of euphoria he felt something much darker. He felt the pressure wave coming up from below him
. He didn’t want to, but human curiosity forced him to tilt the helmet bubble so he could look downwards.

  He wished he hadn’t – coming up at him was a cave lined with teeth bigger than his head. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.

  His pale legs seemed to take on a mind of their own, as they flailed and scissored, perhaps subconsciously he thought he could land on the snout, or kick away, or bounce from the rushing monster.

  I failed, was his last thought as the massive jaws closed over him.

  CHAPTER 43

  “Breaching – In five-four-three-two-one … now.” Thomas Andrews

  They felt the deep-water explosion right through the soles of their feet. Cate, Jack, Michael Brenner and Thomas Andrews all froze, and then it was Brenner who broke the silence.

  “Yes! Take that, you mother.” He double fist-pumped.

  “He did it,” Andrews said. “Blew it to hell.”

  “Hope so.” Jack sounded more cautious. “I guess even if it was only close to the blast, it’d be disorientated by the percussion waves. Just for two minutes will do us.”

  “Oh god, we’re nearly there.” Cate clasped her hands together as a dappled twilight illuminated the water.

  “One hundred feet and counting down,” Brenner said with a smile in every syllable.

  Jack nodded, and also felt the rush of elation, but his mind urged caution. He thought he’d killed one of these monsters before. He had personally seen it plummet into the depths before when it was dying. And yet, there was always the nagging seed of doubt in his gut. He wished there was some way to confirm the kill, or even that it had been knocked about by the blast, but he knew that was impossible.

  Who was it that said: hope for the best, plan for the worst? Someone he’d take advice from now.

  “Sonya, we’re about to hit surface. Where are you?” He waited.

  “Mr. Monroe, this is Captain Levin of the Anastasia. We have your approximate position, and will be closing in on you from the north in two minutes seventeen seconds, sir. We’ll give you a few hundred feet to avoid collision.”

  “Negative.” Jack shot back. “Come right in on top us. We’ll risk it.”

  “We’ll do our best.” Levin responded.

  “Thank you, Captain. We’ll be waiting … and praying.” Jack exhaled, feeling his heart rate kicking up. They’d be on the surface in a matter of seconds.

  “Where’s Sonya?” Cate asked.

  “Ms. Borashev is preparing the deck gun. She’ll be providing the surface defense during the extraction,” Levin said.

  “Good.” Cate nodded. “I hope we don’t need it. But if we do, I hope she shreds that bastard to pieces.”

  “Believe me, she won’t hesitate to kill,” Levin said.

  Jack stood up. “Okay, people, we’re about to breach. Everyone grab everything that’ll float.” He turned toward the Alvin. “Sam, that means you guys as well. I want a surface that has so much camouflage debris on it that we are going to be invisible.”

  “You got it.” Sam paused. “But didn’t Mr. Mironov just blow the shark up?”

  Jack exhaled through his nose. “Maybe, but we don’t know that for sure, so …”

  “Oh god.” Sam turned away, yelling to Andy, and the pair set about raiding anything that they thought would float.

  Cate’s arms fell to her sides and she looked up at Jack. “You’re right, I can feel it; something went wrong.”

  “Just nerves,” Jack said. “Brenner, get the vests. Andrews, anything else that’ll stay on the surface.” He took one last look out of the window. “We’ve got about twenty feet to go. Get ready to pop the hatch.”

  “And then we all jump in the ocean with a monster shark.” Brenner sniggered.

  “Stay here then.” Jack dismissed him, having no time to cater to the young man’s panic.

  The surface glimmered above them, and they all seemed to be frozen to the spot, waiting, holding items ready to throw to the water. Jack, like everyone else, he bet, was mentally running through the plans in his head while doing everything in his power to avoid thinking about what might be still coming up from below.

  He turned to Andrews. “You pop the hatch, and go first. The Anastasia is coming from the north, so that’s the direction we want to start swimming; we’ll close the gap.”

  “Got it.” Andrews’ face was a study in steely resolve.

  Jack turned to Cate. “Then you next, then me, then Mr. Brenner can follow.”

  “Lucky last.” Brenner made a noise like a wheeze, and Jack continued to ignore him. Bottom line, it was going to be tough to stay alive, and Cate was his first and only priority.

  “We all move toward the Anastasia, but we spread out.” He licked dry lips. “Oh, yeah, and let’s try not to make too much noise or a commotion on the surface. Breaststroke, dog paddle, or we just drift, right?”

  Cate smiled nervously. “Déjà vu?”

  Jack nodded. “Rather be having that cold beer on the wharf, huh?”

  Cate squeezed his hand, and he could see her lips looked bloodless from fear.

  “Breaching,” Andrews said as, outside the window, the light suddenly amplified. “In five-four-three-two-one … now.”

  Still lashed together, the Nautilus and Alvin pods popped to the surface, bobbed for a second or two and then stabilized.

  “Open her up!” Jack yelled, and Andrews disengaged the seals and swung the round locking wheel. There was an escape of gas, and Jack felt his ears pop as normal atmospheric air rushed in, as well as a blessed burst of fresh sea air.

  Jack opened the comm. link, and moved the dial so it blared with an ear-grating static.

  “Go, go, go.” He pointed to the ladder.

  Andrews climbed up the few ladder rungs, and Jack pushed at Cate, with him following right behind. He could feel Brenner at his back, the man still making a nervous wheezing sound, interspaced with an occasional retched sob.

  Jack didn’t want to, but turned to look at him. The man mumbled and fidgeted, and then gave Jack a smile that made him look like a frightened chimpanzee. Jack grabbed his shoulder.

  “Be cool, and we might just get through this.” He couldn’t promise Brenner anything more.

  “Yeah, sure.” Brenner avoided his eyes.

  Jack started to turn away, but paused. There was an odd smell, a little like rotten fruit. He looked down. “Your hand.”

  Brenner held it up, and grinned. “This old thing?”

  Jack saw that the fingers were black and looked to have been somehow melded together. There was nothing he could do for him here. “Come on; the seawater will be good for it.”

  He turned and went up the ladder, and immediately felt the warm moist air on his skin. It was a blessing after the homogenized artificial air of the submersible. The sun was a sinking golden orb in the west, and he quickly threw his floating objects as far out as he could, and then slid down the sleek surface to where Cate waited for him.

  The water was warm, and already ink-dark. She grabbed at him.

  “There.” Thomas pointed to the shape of the Anastasia to the north – it seemed so close, but also seemed to be moving toward them at a glacial speed. “Let’s go.” He started to breaststroke toward it.

  Jack saw that Samantha and Andy had exited the Alvin and were already swimming away. They stayed together, and he was going to yell at them to separate, but he knew he’d be a hypocrite, as he and Cate were staying together too.

  Behind them, Brenner still sat on the edge of the Nautilus pod as it bobbed in the near glass-flat water. As the sun sank, Jack was conscious of just how quiet it was – everywhere except the pod. There were a few gentle wave-lapping noises around it, and the vibrating white noise blaring from inside. He hoped that its vibrations were being transmitted into the depths as he’d planned.

  “Swim, man, swim,” he hissed back at Brenner.

  The young man’s lips moved, as if he was arguing with himself or reciting a prayer over and over. Jack couldn’
t wait anymore. He and Cate stroked slowly toward the approaching ship.

  Andrews was about 100 feet out to his left and Sam and Andy about eighty out to the other side. The debris bloom looked ever more pitiful the more it dispersed. Other than the pods, nothing else on the surface was even half their size.

  Jack had a bursting urge to take a piss, and damned himself for not doing it before he got in the water. There was no way he would dare release it now.

  He glided on, and beside him he saw that Cate’s eyes were round in the growing twilight as she gently breaststroked beside him.

  “Wait!” Brenner screamed. He turned and disappeared back into the pod. Immediately the grating white noise stopped. He reappeared. “Wait!”

  Now there was silence. There was no chop, no crests, or even wheeling gulls, it was just … them.

  “That bastard,” Cate said and started to turn around, but Jack grabbed her arm.

  “He’s got as much chance as we do now. It’s up to him.”

  “The poor fool is petrified.” Her lips turned down.

  “So are we all.” He held onto her arm. “None of us want to be here. Just keep swimming toward the Anastasia.”

  “We have to do something.” She grimaced.

  Jack groaned, but he should have expected this. One thing that he loved about Cate was that she would lift up every puppy, feed every sparrow, and donate to every charity under the sun. And she would certainly put herself at risk for someone who clearly piled that risk upon themselves.

  “We’re not going back.” Jack turned in the water, planning to try and convince Brenner to start swimming before Cate tried to retrieve him.