by Greig Beck
“Fuck!” Andy yelled, also trying to thrash his way back to the pickup. He stared upwards. “Hurry up!”
Jack looked up to see one of the men with the headlamp turn around and begin to ease himself over the side. Once done, he immediately started to drop down while numerous gun barrels pointed at the water.
The man was ten feet from the water line, and Jack and Andy were still more than twice that away in the open water. He started to stroke harder, just as the machine guns and yelling started again.
Jack froze as the huge form rose up beside the ship’s side. It reminded him of the Sea World events where the Orca whale is trained to launch itself from the pool to snatch a fish held high.
“Noooo!”
The man on the drop line never had a chance. The poor soul had time to hold both hands over his head, as if to ward off an angry bird, when the shark snatched him. Alarmingly, it ignored the hail of bullets as if they were peas being shot at it.
What Jack found ominous was that it had taken the man from the ship while he and Andy were in the open water – it had gone right past them, like it was taunting them, letting them know that this would be them soon, and it could take them when it chose. But first, it’d cut off their escape, play with them for a while longer.
That poor bastard, Jack thought as the monstrous fish slid back into the water. In reality, they had created a situation that was impossible for the huge predatorial fish to ignore – the light, the live bait, the movement – it would have been irresistible to an alpha predator.
From above, the yells started up again, and Jack spun in time to see the massive dorsal fin rise from the water. One of the searchlights tracked it as the water around it was peppered with machine-gun rounds, before it silently sunk back down.
But this time Jack saw something that made his heart sink. “Oh shit.” He turned to yell up at the deck: “The fin.”
Above, a second man who had been preparing to scale down immediately gave up. Jack didn’t blame him, after seeing what happened to his colleague and knowing the monster shark was still down here.
Above him, he heard Cate shrieking, and it warmed him knowing she was so close, and that at least she was safe. But a current from behind made him spin back to the dark water once again. The massive fin rose up and sank down; it was patrolling them now. It had been so close, he almost laughed out loud.
Above it all, he heard Sonya roaring instructions and then just the rope dropped back down. That was as good as it was going to get, he thought, and he and Andy swam toward it. His hands were cold and he felt tired to the bone, and he doubted he’d be able to grip the rope enough to climb. He would need to tie it off and have them lift him.
Andy looked in even worse condition, and the look on his face was one of pure panic. As Jack was the one holding the rope, he knew what Andy was worried about.
“Don’t worry, we go up together or not at all.” Jack lashed the rope around his waist and tied it off as best he could. He then pulled Andy in closer, and hugged the man against his chest, facing him.
“Hang on tight, and wrap your legs around me – I doubt there’ll be two trips.” Jack felt a slight shiver run through the young man. He turned his face upwards.
“Go!”
They jerked upwards a foot. And then another. As they left the water, their combined weight, plus the sodden clothing was proving a challenge.
“Heave.”
He heard the word, and then up they went several more feet. Just their boots were in the water now.
I won’t look down, he thought.
“He-eeeeave!”
This time they lifted up four feet.
Don’t look down, he demanded of himself, but he knew he would. Jack couldn’t resist a glance back at the water, which was still illuminated by the spotlights. He wished he hadn’t.
There it was, just at the far edge of the light, hanging there like a dark demon. The black eyes stared up at him for a second longer, before it banked away like a monstrous airplane leaving a lump of water as it accelerated downwards.
It’s diving deep, preparing for another attack, he knew. Jack ground his teeth, not wanting to say a word that might panic Andy, or himself for that matter. He looked up, grimacing, and mentally pleading for them to hurry.
“He-eeeeave.”
It was like a bomb went off – the impact on the Anastasia rocked the ship twenty degrees. Equipment slid, on deck men and women yelled, and something heavy smashed. The rope they were on swung like a pendulum, and Jack held his breath as he watched the wet rope, already being dragged down hard over the ship’s side, saw back and forth along the steel railing.
Somebody stop it swinging, he mentally begged. Further out, the shark broke the water again, and Jack stared hard. Then he cursed. He tried to use his legs as a brake against the hull to slow himself and Andy down. But they swung and spun, and the centrifugal force made it difficult to hang on. Then Andy slipped.
Jack groaned as he tried to get a better grip on the young man. But his arms ached, their bodies were wet, and the swinging rope was making Andy much heavier than he should be.
“Hurry!” He yelled upwards as his clawed hands struggled to grip the young man.
“Don’t let me go.” Andy hugged Jack tight, but his arms were now around Jack’s torso, as he continued to slide down his body.
Andy’s legs bicycled madly, and it made the rope jerk and dance, as it continued to saw back and forth. Jack stared up at it, and then saw Cate staring down at him, her face a white oval, her fear for him creasing her features. Her brow knitted until some sort of resolution dawned on her. She turned and raced away, and a group of men appeared and tried to stop the rope’s arcing.
“Keep pulling, faster,” he yelled up at them.
“He-eeeeave.”
They jerked up another few feet, and of course, Andy slid down some more. Andy’s wrapped arms were now just over Jack’s buttocks. Jack grabbed the top of Andy’s shirt, and wrapped his legs around him.
“He-eeeeave.”
They were only ten feet from the rail now, and Jack just concentrated on the deck’s edge. Hands began to reach down for them, but Jack couldn’t reach up, because to do so meant letting go of Andy, and he knew that would mean the kid would fall back to the water, and a horrible death.
“He-eeeeave.”
Nearly there – four feet.
“He-eeeeave.”
Three feet – we might just make this, he dared to believe.
Hands strained down for them, grabbing Jack’s hair, collar, shoulders. If they could just reach Andy, they would both be safe.
It was the smell that alerted Jack first – that deep ocean smell of something that lived in the abyss, and should never see the surface. He felt the ship lurch, and the sound of cascading water. He didn’t need to look down to know the shark was coming up, its massive mouth open as it sought to take this last morsel before it was dragged over the side.
He could see the expressions on the crewmembers’ faces – shock, terror, and also bone-numbing panic.
But, thankfully, none froze in indecision.
“He-eeeeave.”
Jack and Andy’s bodies were hauled roughly up to the railing, at the same time the massive conical snout loomed behind them. Jack quickly dragged his legs up to his chest. But Andy wasn’t so fast. The massive mouth came down like a toothed guillotine, catching the tip of Andy’s left foot.
The young man screamed, but was snagged. Gravity pulled the monster back to the ocean, but not before its teeth also caught the edge of the railing, tearing the wood away and splitting off one massive tooth to spin like a dinner plate across the deck.
Andy fell free and crawled backwards, his face white as a sheet. He lunged forward, grabbing his leg – one of his shoes was gone. That was all. He laid back, flat on the deck. “Oh god, just a shoe.”
Jack exhaled, shut his eyes and closed in on himself. He smiled. But Cate launched herself onto him, breaking the s
pell, and then time, sounds and sights started up around him all over again.
“You idiot.” She hugged him and dragged him further away from the edge.
Jack got unsteadily to his feet; rope still tied painfully tight around his gut. Andy and Sam Britt had their arms around each other’s shoulders, and the young red-headed man laughed, probably for the first time in days. Blankets had been thrown over their shoulders.
Jack turned to see Sonya staring back at him, her mouth in a straight line of anger. After another moment, one side of her mouth just hitched a little and she nodded to him. He mouthed thanks to her in return.
He could tell what she was thinking: Valery died, and they lived. He’d traded himself for them. And the sight of their happiness only made it rawer for her.
Cate kissed him and looked into his face. “That’s it, we are mad. There’s no doubt now.”
“It’s a proven fact.” He grinned, and then kissed her hard.
“Looks like we didn’t kill it after all,” she said. “It just found a new home.”
“No.” Jack held her back a step. “No. Its fin.”
“What?” she said. “What about it?”
Jack exhaled. “The fin; it was intact. Sonya just blew a big damned hole right through it, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember.” Cate frowned. “So?”
“The fin was intact – it was a different shark.” He gripped her arms tighter. “There’s more than one.”
“Oh shit,” Cate said softly. “A breeding population.”
“We brought them all up. They were down there for millions of years, and we forced them to the surface with the seismic blasting.”
“So,” Sonya, overhearing, eased herself back into the shoulder stirrups of the Mark 38 machine gun. “I think we send them to hell … all of them.”
Jack turned back to the water. Searchlights played over its slick surface, looking for any telltale sign of the monsters.
Now that he was safe onboard, he wondered if that was the right course. After what he had seen, his base instinct was to fight back, kill the killers. But he was a marine biologist, and spent his life studying sharks – he knew they were only doing what nature had programmed them to do for nearly 400 million years – eat, mate, protect their turf, and survive. He remembered how last time he thought he had killed the beast, he’d regretted it.
“Leave them,” he said.
Sonya pulled back from the gun sights and stared. Her brows were drawn tight together. After a moment, her lips pulled back from her teeth, and Jack thought she was about to snarl. He already knew she was a formidable woman.
“Valery’s ghost demands blood, and he shall have it, Mr. Monroe.”
“I’d say the same thing to Valery.” He shivered, and Cate threw a blanket over his shoulders.
“And if it was Cate in the thing’s belly?” Sonya asked with blazing eyes. “Their world is down deep, and they should have stayed there.”
“There might be hundreds … or these might be the last two on the planet. If we leave the area, and stop the seismic blasting, they’ll return to the deep.”
Sonya said something to the crewmember kneeling beside the gun, who nodded back to her.
“You know what happens when a predator gets a taste for easy blood, Jack?” Her eyes were as direct and unemotional as the gun barrel. “It keeps seeking out that blood.” She shook her head. “They had their time at the top of the food chain; it’s our turn now.”
“Sighting,” a crewmember yelled. “South-southwest, 200 degrees.”
Sonya swung the huge barrel and put her eyes back to the sights, she swiveled the weapon. Jack took several fast steps toward her, and grabbed her arm. The effect was instantaneous, she reached up, knocking his hand away, and then used the point of her elbow to ram it into his chin, twice, faster than he could even see. He staggered back, tasting blood.
The woman had been Valery Mironov’s lover, but also his bodyguard. She was lethal. She pointed at his chest.
“Don’t test me, Jack. Not now, not here.” She glared for another moment, before putting her eyes back to the sights.
Jack held up his palms, and backed away.
She went back to her sights. “Tracking … firing.”
The thump of the massive gun was loud so close. The explosive-tipped rounds made blooms of orange flowers out on the water. Sonya fired several more times, and then finally must have scored a hit because large chunks of meat exploded into the air.
“One down.” She pulled her head back, but only momentarily. She leaned into the gun again.
“Second bogy, west at 252 degrees. Big target.” The crouching crewmember tracked the Megalodon with his night-vision field glasses.
“Yes, your turn.” Sonya swung the barrel, and this time fired the projectiles in a stream. Once again the explosions zippered toward their target, and once again a geyser of blood, cartilage and flesh was blown into the air.
She waited. The seconds stretched.
“Sonar?” she yelled.
“Debris only.” And after another moment, “All clear, all sectors.”
She stepped back from the gun, and pulled off a pair of gloves. She slapped them into Jack’s chest.
“I only regret, I cannot recover the jaws for Valery’s wall.” She circled a finger in the air. “Let’s go home.” Her jaw set hard. “I have one more thing to take care of.”
Cate and Jack watched her storm toward the bridge, shoulders still hiked. Cate snorted softly.
“That is one tough-assed woman.”
Jack felt his lip with his tongue. “Oh yeah.” There was a gash in his mouth that still bled. “But she was wrong.”
“Maybe,” Cate said. “But as far as everyone was concerned, those creatures didn’t exist before we came here.” She sighed. “And now they don’t exist again.”
He exhaled through his nose. “So, we now don’t have what we never had, huh?”
“Something like that.” She half smiled. “I’ve spent my life studying remnant species, and frankly, this one scared the shit out of me. I won’t miss it.”
“What was it Valery said?” He put an arm around her. “Technology over nature.” He continued to stare out over the water, as the searchlights were extinguished one by one. “Somehow, I don’t think science was the big winner this day.”
“I know, and I should feel bad, but I just feel safer.” She smiled up at him. “Monsters should only exist in bad dreams, Jack.” She began to steer him toward the cabins. “Remember what you said to me? Let it go. Time for us both to do that.”
He gave her a half smile. “God, I’m looking forward to sunshine, a dry wharf and that cold beer you kept promising.”
“That’s priority one.” She looked over her shoulder at the water one last time. Cate knew that there were dozens of deep oceanic trenches, many over 26,000 feet, off Japan, Peru, New Zealand, Chile and even Australia. The ocean was a big place.
“Good riddance,” she whispered.
CHAPTER 46
“See you in hell.” Sonya Borashev
Olander Blomgren slowly began to regain his senses. Everything was hot and dark, and smelled of sweat and sour breath – his own. He blinked several times, feeling the material against his skin and then realizing that there was some sort of covering over his head, like a sack.
He tried to remember what had happened, but everything was hazy, like in a fever dream. The last fragments of his life he could recollect were of getting into bed. He remembered dreaming about swimming in a cool blue ocean, and then the dream changed to him being stung on the arm by a jellyfish, just a prick though, and then there was nothing but blackness.
His head throbbed mercilessly, and he realized he wasn’t in bed anymore, but was lying down on something brutally hard. When he tried to sit up he found he couldn’t. He moaned; his ankles and wrists were bound. This was bad, very bad.
“Where am I?” he asked, his voice muffled through the dark sack. He heard m
ovement, footsteps and then …
“Welcome back, Captain Blomgren.”
The voice was firm, confident, and with a hint of a Russian accent. He recognized it, and tried to place it. It came back in a rush. “Ms. Borashev? Sonya?”
“Of course,” she replied coolly.
More movement, and he turned his head, tracking it. There was the sound of something mechanical and the noise bounced back at him with a hollow echo, making him think he was in a solid room. He also became aware of heat on one side of his body.
“I said, where am I?” He followed the movement as the steps paced around him. “If this is a ransom attempt, you’ll be sorely disappointed.”
“No, I don’t need money. I have what I need right here.” With that, she ripped the sack from Olander’s head.
The light was dim, but he still squinted after being in the darkness. He quickly turned one way then the other. As he expected, the room was small and the walls were bare concrete. The heat inside was building to an uncomfortable level.
Sonya leaned over him, her jaw set in absolute disgust. “Peter Cain is dead. Suicide.” She grinned like a death’s head. “Seems he killed himself the moment after he sabotaged our ship. Remorse, I guess.”
Olander had been wondering why he hadn’t heard from Cain – now he knew why. This was ominous. He shook his head. “Never heard of him. And what does that have to do with me?” The woman’s eyes were like chips of glass. He chuckled weakly. “Look, if you’re trying to scare me, it’s working.”
She leaned over him. “Let’s be clear; Mr. Cain told me you sabotaged our ship. Thus, we were late to rescue our people, and some of them died.” Her beautiful eyes were as cold as any he had ever seen. “The first time you did something like this, Valery excused you.”
She walked around behind the top of his head, and leaned over his face again. “But my Valery is dead now.”
“You can’t prove anything,” Olander yelled. “I’ve been framed.” He bucked against his bonds.
Sonya lifted a hand, in it was his phone. She showed him the selfie of the smiling young man next to the damaged water intake pipe on the Anastasia.