Shadow Of The Abyss

by Edward J. McFadden III

  “Of course not, silly. What you got for me?”

  “One Xls pump for a 2014 150HP Yamaha.”

  “Great. I really appreciate it,” Lenah said.

  “Want me to put it in?” Guppy said.

  Long silence. The tinkle and pop of the sea against the hull echoed in the cabin.

  Guppy, apparently realizing his poor choice of words, attempted a recovery. “Installing the pump would be no problem.”

  “That’s OK. I’ll do it in the morning,” Lenah said.

  Guppy chuckled, then nothing.

  “Did you bring the darts and gun?” she said.

  “Sure did. Ready to go,” Guppy said. Splinter could hear the pride in his voice.

  Poseidon leapt on Splinter’s lap and he jumped and let out a squeal.

  Everything went quiet on the deck outside as Splinter lifted Poseidon close to his face, scolding him with gentle headbutts.

  Two metal clasps snapped open, and Splinter sighed.

  “This here is a TelroDart RD719 Injection Gun. It shoots XK23 tracker darts.” Guppy eased back the slide and it locked in place with a clang. “It has a range of eighty yards, but depending on the thickness of the hide, you might want to be closer.”

  “How close for a croc?” Lenah asked.

  “Say fifty yards.”

  “And the darts?”

  “They snap in here like this.”

  A clink of metal, and the bolt rammed home and locked in place. “It has a five-mile range and should be easily detectable up to one hundred fathoms. Closer you are, the deeper you’ll see.”

  “Trackable on my GPS screen?”

  “Yes, Ma’am. Just program your GPS into the dart, and let the Bluetooth find it. It will show up as a large yellow dot regardless of what the SONAR shows.”

  “Alright. You hitting anything over there?”

  “Naw. They’re all bitching like passed-over prom queens,” Guppy said. “Where you headin’?”

  “Got a charter tomorrow.”

  “Need a hand?”

  Lenah said nothing.

  Splinter pressed his ear to the cabin door.

  “So, what you up to the rest of the evening?” Guppy said.

  “You want to go get a drink?” Lenah said.

  Splinter’s head jerked back.

  “Sounds great. But I thought you were keeping a low profile?”

  “We can hit the back room at Tilly’s. Nobody should know me there. My face hasn’t been all over TV.”

  “Yeah, you ain’t that killer Splinter.”

  Splinter rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck.

  Lenah did the chuckle. “Let’s go.”

  Shuffling feet, the thump of Guppy’s fat frame landing on the deck of his boat. Engines roared to life. Splinter came up from the cabin into the pilothouse, keeping low.

  “What the hell was that?” he said. “Why do all these moon-eyed babes have it in for me?”

  Lenah smiled. “Had to get rid of him somehow.” She pushed down on the throttle and the Parker plowed through the chop and jumped in Guppy’s wake.

  Splinter said nothing.

  “We’re gonna ditch him at south bend,” she said.

  Splinter smiled.

  The Parker cut through the darkness, Guppy’s white NAV light on the transom marking his progress before them. The channel widened, and the chop doubled in size and strength.

  “Double zero, do you copy?”

  “Go ahead, Lenah.”

  “Guppy, I hate to be a woman, but I don’t feel so great. Can I get that drink another night?”

  “Not feeling well? You OK?”

  “Yeah, just shot to the sea. You know how it is. Now that you helped me solve tomorrow’s problem I feel exhausted.”

  Blast of static. Nothing.

  “We can do diner next week. I’ll make it up to you.”

  “Promise?”

  “As much as that means in this crazy world, yes, I promise.”

  “Sleep tight, darling.”

  Lenah closed the channel, turned to Splinter, and said, “I didn’t say I’d be alone.”

  ***

  Next morning Splinter got up in the predawn hours and installed the new fuel pump, and when he was about half done, Lenah emerged from the galley with coffee.

  “You rule,” he said.

  “You didn’t even taste it.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Splinter sipped his coffee and held up the metal mug in salute.

  “What’s the plan today?” she asked.

  “Get back out on the ocean and tag this bitch. End of plan.”

  Lenah sighed. “Location is off South Beach Park?”

  “For starters unless you have something better? This is your turf.”

  “This thing isn’t acting like any fish I’ve every tracked. I think it will move on to a new feeding area. The seas of South Beach Park are going to be packed with coasties and law. I’d be surprised if the thing was still hanging around there.”

  Splinter finished putting the outboard back together and snapped on the cover. Engine two hummed to life, and Evenstar was once again in full readiness.

  The inlet was jammed, and it took Lenah two hours to navigate the Indian River, pass through the inlet, and get out into the Atlantic. Six-foot rollers cut across the inlet, and the Parker heaved and pitched as it launched over the swells, the Yamahas wailing in protest on each drop as the back of the boat lifted from the water.

  Lenah spun the wheel and the Evenstar arced south, hugging the coast. Splinter searched the horizon and they hadn’t gone far south before the gaggle of boats appeared out of the haze.

  A hundred-foot boat with a huge gantry crane hauled the sunken sailboat from its watery grave.

  Lenah checked the Parker to a stop with a rapid burst of reverse, then dropped it in neutral. Splinter brought up the binoculars and said, “Holy shit.”

  A Coast Guard cutter, four marine patrol boats with lights flashing, and a dark gray Navy Zodiac formed a tight knot around the salvage ship. Another layer of smaller boats surrounded the rescue vessels, and a whirly-bird circled overhead.

  “Lenah, as usual, I think you’re right.”

  16

  “What now?” Lenah said.

  Splinter rubbed his chin and pulled on his ponytail. “As we figured, it’s probably fled the area. Question is, where will it go feed now?”

  “Up or down the coast I’d wager,” Lenah said.

  “With that copter in the air the thing probably went deep. We might not see it again for a while.”

  “I don’t know. If it’s some type of mutant croc it won’t have gills,” she said.

  Splinter hadn’t thought of that. Without gills how could the creature stay in the depths for so long? “I don’t know, but right now it doesn’t matter. All that matters is north or south? Let’s take the path of least resistance and go north,” Splinter said.

  “50-50 shot,” Lenah said.

  She nudged the throttle forward an inch, and the Evenstar pushed through the five-foot swell. To the west a line of dark storm clouds paraded across the horizon, and by mid-day it would be raining. Two herons flew overhead, the pair in sync like an airshow. They dipped and rolled, plucking small fish from the ocean and staying clear of boats.

  Lenah turned on the fish finder and plotted a jagged course that would take them two miles out into water that was over a hundred feet deep. She spun-up the motors and brought the Parker to twenty knots as they patrolled the sea.

  The hours slipped away, and they saw nothing, not so much as a garbage fish. The rollers slapping against the hull grew as a stiff wind from the west stood the waves up, doubling their size. The Parker dipped and rolled in the valleys and peaks of the swell; Splinter perched on the bow staring through the binoculars while Lenah monitored the SONAR.

  At around 3PM Splinter screamed, “Hard to port. I think I’ve got its caudal fin.”

  Lenah banked hard and slowed the boat, not wanting to
make noise. Not that it mattered. Splinter figured if the creature was anything like other deep-sea dwellers it could sense the slightest vibrations in the water miles away.

  As they closed in, it become clear Splinter had spotted a dolphin pod. Four of the intelligent creatures played together on the surface, jumping out of the water, nudging each other, and frolicking like human children. They eyed the boat, but didn’t pay the Parker much attention. They squeaked and bleated, trying to talk. Splinter had seen a documentary about a scientist who’d learned to talk to the creatures, and some believed that dolphins were smarter than humans given the relative size of their brain.

  The dolphins took off so fast Splinter didn’t know what direction they’d gone in.

  “Wonder what spooked them?” Lenah said as Splinter entered the pilothouse.

  “That.” Splinter pointed to the western horizon by the entrance to the inlet.

  “Oh shit,” Lenah said.

  A dorsal fin knifed through the sea, heading for the inner bay. The gray fin protruded three feet from the water, its triangle resembling a small sail. “That’s a great white. Judging by the size of the dorsal fin it’s at least fifteen feet long.”

  “Double oh shit,” Lenah said.

  A hundred yards behind the shark was the tip of a gray three-foot caudal fin, swishing back-and-forth as the leviathan moved silently through the water stalking its prey.

  “Fall in behind them. Keep your distance, though,” Splinter said. “What’s the SONAR showing?”

  “Nothing yet, we’re not in range,” Lenah.

  “Let’s cut the angle and see if we can get to the inlet mouth before them,” Splinter said.

  She drew an imaginary line on the NAV screen with her finger as she assessed their position. “Coming around to 31 degrees. We might make it.” She pushed down on the throttle and brought the boat up to half speed. With the waves rolling in, full speed wasn’t an option, and she was pushing it at twenty knots. Sea spray pounded the windshield, and the bilge pump kicked on as waves broke over the bow.

  Splinter took the TelroDart RD719 Injection Gun from its case and jacked a dart into the firing chamber. He brought the weapon to his shoulder and sighted the beast through the windshield. It was still a half mile distant. When he was satisfied the dart gun was ready, he retrieved the M16 from the gun stock and snapped in a full cartridge.

  “What are you planning to do with that?” Lenah asked as he passed through the pilothouse.

  “Just insurance,” he said.

  Splinter slid the pilothouse door closed behind him and leaned against the bulkhead. He felt dizzy, as if the sea was finally eroding his resolve and urging him to find land. He braced himself in the bow and waited.

  Poseidon leapt on the dash above the command counsel, and Splinter saw the cat watching him through the windshield.

  “Still nothing on the SONAR. Closing to within 1,000 yards,” Lenah yelled.

  The Parker bounced and rolled as it pushed through the sea, and Splinter closed his eyes, letting the breeze ease his nerves.

  “Got them. Changing course to 324 degrees southwest,” Lenah said. “Our big purple blob is back, and it looks like it brought a friend.”

  “Or dinner,” Splinter said. “Is that a boat?” A white shape bobbed through the haze.

  “Yup,” Lenah said.

  In the distance a large pleasure yacht was anchored, and people jumped off the rear dive platform.

  “Hail them. Hurry!” Splinter said.

  With trembling hands Lenah pulled the handset from the radio. “What’s the boat’s name?”

  “I can’t tell.” Splinter peered through the binoculars. “Wait. The Eighth Day.”

  Lenah opened the emergency channel. “To the Eighth Day, this is the Evenstar. A shark is approaching your vessel. Get out of the water. I repeat, to The Eighth Day, shark in water. Do you copy?”

  Nothing.

  “Screw this,” Splinter said.

  He pulled the M16 strap from his shoulder and stepped away from the pilothouse window. He fired six times into the air, the pop of the gunpowder expanding echoing over the water.

  Lenah said, “They didn’t hear that. The kids aren’t getting out of the water. They’re body surfing the waves.”

  Splinter ground his teeth and went back into the pilothouse.

  “Bogeys haven’t changed course. The shark will be on that boat in a minute. It’s two-hundred yards away and closing fast,” Lenah said.

  “Get us over there.”

  Lenah dropped the throttle and the Parker launched off a wave as the engines whined. The deck tilted at a thirty-degree angle as the twenty-eight-foot boat went down the face of a wave.

  “Call for help?” Splinter said.

  “We have to.”

  “Agreed.”

  Splinter picked up the radio and hailed the Coast Guard on the emergency channel. They said their ETA was twelve minutes.

  “This is going to be over in twelve minutes,” Lenah said. “Go get ready to tag the big boy, and I’ll try and use the boat to force the shark away from the yacht.”

  “Got it.” Splinter went back out onto deck and wedged himself in the bow, M16 over one shoulder, the dart rifle pressed against his other. He couldn’t see the beast.

  “Four-hundred yards,” came Lenah’s voice from the exterior speaker. “ETA thirty seconds.”

  The people on the yacht still hadn’t taken notice, and the children splashed in the water. Splinter rolled his shoulders. He knew sharks could sense vibrations in the sea, and the apex predator’s dorsal fin knifed directly at the swimmers.

  Commotion erupted on the yacht. They’d seen the fish. Children paddled wildly toward the yacht’s swim platform, but one smaller boy had fallen behind and struggled through the swell, getting pushed backward as he tired.

  Splinter put down the dart gun and brought up the M16. He sighted the dorsal fin and opened fire, spraying the fish with bullets.

  The people on the boat looked panicked, and as the Parker closed in, Splinter saw a man waving a gun. He pointed it at the Evenstar and squeezed off two shots. The bullets went high and wide, but Splinter heard them whizz past and slap into the ocean.

  “What the?” yelled Lenah.

  “They think I’m shooting at them.”

  The shark launched from the sea, its sleek gray body glistening, powerful jaws extended. It bit down on the boy as he struggled through the surf, and fish and boy disappeared within a mound of red foam.

  The caudal fin of the larger creature emerged off the port side, its giant crocodilian head floating on the surface.

  Crying and screams of terror came from the yacht as the shark dove, its dorsal fin disappearing beneath the waves.

  The yacht shook, and a man standing on deck flipped over the gunnel and fell into the sea. He was pulled under and didn’t come up.

  The big boat rocked again, bow sinking into a wave, unable to recover as the transom lifted in the air.

  “They’re going down,” Lenah yelled.

  “The shark didn’t do that,” Splinter said.

  Gunshots. The man on the yacht was firing at the Parker again.

  “They think this is our fault,” Lenah said.

  The yacht was going down, but both beasts had left the scene.

  In the distance a Coast Guard cutter pushed through the growing swell. The clouds on the western horizon were close, and forks of lightning lit the gray sky like a camera flash.

  “Splinter!”

  Splinter turned to see the leviathan surfacing behind the Parker, its caudal fin at the end of its tail flicking back and forth. Its flat head broke the surface, gray eyes staring up at the Parker through the swirling water, jaws opening.

  He dropped the M16, shouldered the dart rifle, and fired.

  The dart hissed from the gun barrel and hit the beast square on its head. It bounced off and floated listlessly on the water, appearing and vanishing in the roll of the ocean.

  �
��Shit!” Splinter went to get a second dart, but the creature dove, disappearing into the depths.

  The shark was back, and it circled the sinking yacht. The Coast Guard cutter was almost on scene, its main stack billowing white smoke as engines strained to push through the swell at top speed. An orange Zodiac dropped off the cutter’s starboard side, and the rescue boat darted toward the sinking vessel.

  “What should I do?” Lenah asked.

  The Coast Guard boat hadn’t hailed them as they focused on the rescue.

  “Looks like the coasties got this under control. You have anything on the SONAR?”

  “The larger creature is moving away to the south. Fast.”

  Splinter was unsure what to do. If they stayed, they’d get caught up in the investigation, and they’d be back where they started: out of the race, with no proof, and the beast would get away. Add to that the crazy ass on the yacht, who based on the shots he’d fired at the Evenstar, felt they were somehow responsible for the arrival of the shark. Clearly nobody aboard The Eighth Day had seen the second creature pursuing the shark. All that added up to Splinter and Lenah being screwed.

  “Track the creature. Try and slip away slowly,” Splinter said.

  “People have died here, Splinter,” Lenah said.

  Anger rose in him. “And more will die if we don’t get this bitch,” Splinter said. “Can we bring them back? Can we help in any better way than staying on this thing’s ass?”

  Lenah said nothing. She nudged the throttle and slowly eased away from the chaos.

  17

  They hadn’t gone far when the marine radio crackled to life.

  “Evenstar, this is the USG cutter Valiant. Please hold your position. Do you copy?”

  “Do I answer?” Lenah asked Splinter.

  Splinter turned off the radio and said, “Bring us up to thirty knots.”

  Lenah looked at him, but said nothing.

  “Too fast for these swells?”

  “Yeah, a little. We’re running from the coasties? I don’t know, Splinter.”

  “We have to stay on that thing’s tail. I need another shot with the dart gun. I’ve got to tag that thing, so it can be stopped for good. I’ll take responsibility. We can say I forced you.”