Splinter rubbed his lips with his tongue, moistening the cracks and rinsing off the salt. He dipped his index and forefinger into the puddle and rubbed his eyes with the tips of his wet fingers. His stomach rumbled.
“Yeah, we’ve got to get something to eat soon,” Lenah said.
Splinter said nothing.
The wind whispered across the mangroves and Splinter, Lenah and Poseidon climbed over rocks and around outcrops of mangrove. The sea was a mass of rolling waves of heat, and the air was suffocating humidity.
A growl as loud as Godzilla’s screech pierced the stillness.
The creature’s caudal fin knifed through the ocean, snaking through the sea as the behemoth circled the island.
Lenah and Splinter paused and looked at one another, neither needing to share what they were thinking. They were ten miles offshore, on a barren island with no food, no water, no supplies, no means of lighting a fire, or contacting the mainland.
Splinter was tired. If he didn’t get sleep soon, he might fall down. “We need to rest before we even think about how to get out of this mess,” he said.
Lenah nodded.
The pair worked their way through the mangroves as best they could, but it took time. The branches were a windblown tangled mess, and they were packed together tight. They’d gone about thirty feet when Splinter said, “I’ll break some of these mangrove trees to make a platform to lay on. Work?”
Lenah nodded.
She looked three days dead; dark bags beneath her eyes, grease streaked across her face, her long hair dirty and slick. She was still beautiful.
The beast roared as it circled the island.
22
Seagull Island was six square miles of mangrove covered wasteland, with a tidal pool at its center surrounded by a rock beach. Gnats and flies filled the air, and rodents and snakes owned the dry ground, which there wasn’t much of. Most of the mangrove trees had water stains at their bases indicating the high tide mark. There were a couple of palm trees at the center of the island that had large green coconuts hanging from them, and as soon as he got his strength back, getting a few and opening them would be his top priority.
Lenah slept beside him on the makeshift litter of bent mangrove trees. She snored gently, and a thin trail of spittle dripped from her mouth across her chin. Splinter loved watching her: the curve of her cheeks, her dark black hair, full lips. Even in her current state she was beautiful. He frowned. How had he lost her?
Poseidon sat next to Lenah, eyes open and alert. Splinter needed to find her something to eat as well.
The midday sun glided overhead, baking everything in stifling heat. He sat up, and his movement stirred Lenah.
“What is it? Everything OK?”
“Yes. Go back to sleep while I get us some coconuts. Maybe some fish.”
Splinter planned to walk the shoreline, and he was bound to find tangled fishing line. The line, along with a mangrove branch, would make a good fishing rig. All he needed was bait and a hook. Shiners teemed in the shoals and catching a few would be simple. As to the hook, Splinter was confident that if he didn’t find one attached to the line he found, he could use a curved sharpened fishbone.
He struggled through the mangroves toward the center of the island, making for the tallest palm tree. It took him over an hour to reach it, but when he arrived he was pleasantly surprised. All along the tidal pool, wild blueberry bushes covered in berries encroached up to the water. Small fish swam in the tidal pool, and it would be no problem catching a few.
The immediate problem was water. The rain from the prior day had dried up, so the coconut milk would have to suffice until they found another solution. Climbing the palm tree proved difficult. There were no branches to assist in the climb, and when Splinter got to the top, the inside of his legs were scraped raw. One by one he knocked the coconuts from the tree, and when he was done, eight green nuts lay at the base of the palm. Getting them open without spilling the liquid inside was the trick, but Splinter had seen Castaway. He knew how it was done.
He found a rock with a thin edge and cut off the rough green exterior of the coconut and stripped it. Once down to the more recognizable inner brown nut, Splinter used a pointed stone as a nail, and carefully tapped it into the nut using the bigger stone.
He drank the white water greedily, but it wasn’t enough. Splinter started collecting the coconuts, so he could bring them to Lenah, then he figured it would be smarter to bring Lenah inland to the tidal pool, away from the shore, where she could also eat berries.
He left his haul and went searching for parts for the fishing rig. The island shore was remarkably clean. In most spots the mangroves encroached into the water. Even with this limitation, it only took a few minutes to find a ball of fishing line tangled around a decayed Styrofoam float. There was no hook, so he circumnavigated the island and ended up back at the point where he and Lenah had headed into the interior.
In his travels he hadn’t seen or heard the creature, but Splinter had no illusions. It was out there. Waiting.
Lenah wanted coconut and berries and trekked to the center of the island without complaint. Splinter opened the nuts and they ate as much white coconut flesh as they could, drank all the water, and stripped the bushes of berries, but it wasn’t enough. Splinter and Lenah were still thirsty and weak.
“What are we gonna do Splinter?”
“Light a signal fire? Someone will see it.”
“We could try, but I’ve got no matches, and unless you’re more skilled than I think, starting a fire with wet mangrove trees is going to be a challenge.”
She had a point. A good one.
“There is no clearing big enough to make a sign in the sand, or with rocks. We have no radio, not so much as binoculars,” she said.
Splinter said nothing.
Lenah got up and dusted herself off. “I’m going to look around before the tide comes in.”
“There’s nothing to see.”
“Maybe you missed something.”
“Take Poseidon with you.”
“Fine.”
The cat lifted her head at the sound of her name.
“Come on,” Lenah said to the cat.
Poseidon glanced at Splinter, then at Lenah. The feline looked put out, then with a great exaggerated effort and stretch the cat got up and stepped forward, as if to say ‘let’s go then.’
Lenah left, and Splinter went about sharpening the fish bone he’d found, making it into a hook. Exercising extreme patience, he untangled the fishing line, wound it around a mangrove branch and attached his hook. When that was done, he put the rig aside and went looking for crickets. This proved difficult. Seagull Island was tidal, and during storms and full moons the entire island was covered in seawater except for its dry center by the tidal pool. The small salt water lake was what kept that section of the island dry, because when the tide crept across the island the pool took on much of the water.
High tide was coming on at 3PM and judging by the sun that was only a couple of hours away. He pushed the problem from his mind. One thing at a time, and first order of business was food and water.
He didn’t find any crickets, but he did find a beetle pulling its way over a chunk of driftwood. Splinter snatched it up and headed back to the pool’s edge. He hooked the insect, unraveled some fishing line from his stick, and tossed the hook into the water.
Slowly he wrapped the line around the stick, keeping the hook moving. Several fish eyed the bait as it passed, but there were no takers. Splinter repeated this process several times but got no bites, so he figured he needed different bait. He’d have to go to the shoals and get shiners like he originally planned. He was pulling the hook from the water when Lenah screamed.
“Splinter! Come see this,” she yelled. She didn’t sound panicked, or afraid, but Splinter hustled anyway, climbing through the mangroves like it was a jungle gym. Before he reached the shoreline, he saw the problem.
The tide was indeed coming i
n. The rock beach was gone, and the low branches of the outer ring of mangroves were underwater. Splinter’s heart raced, then relaxed. Even if tidal waters covered most of the island, it would be shallow. The island was packed with vegetation, so there was no real cause to fear the beast attacking if they stayed at the center of the island. Then he remembered the odd way the creature inched back into the sea and worry and doubt seeped through him.
Lenah stood in thigh-high water on the rock beach, staring out at the shoals. “We’re truly screwed.”
“You see our friend?”
“No, but it’s hard to see anything with the glare coming off the ocean,” Lenah said.
It was. The heat was stifling, and the light reflecting off the ocean’s surface formed a blinding glow that made it impossible to see what was going on outside the wave break.
“It could be sitting right out there, and we wouldn’t know,” Splinter said.
“Thanks for the info,” she said.
He laughed. “Do you remember the time I took you to Disneyworld? The Magic Kingdom?”
“How could I forget. We got thrown out.”
“That’s their fault for having that one place that sold beer. Anyway, you remember what you said to me that day?”
Lenah looked away.
“Do you still feel that way at all? Even in the back of your mind? Ever?” Splinter said.
“I do still love you, but love isn’t enough. Shit, it isn’t half.”
Now Splinter said nothing.
“It’s not your fault or mine. I fell in love and wanted to make a life with a guy who got a raw deal and changed.”
“It was my choice.”
She chuckled. “I know. And I was second.”
They’d been going out on and off for two years, but when he came back from his last deployment, he was different and it was no mystery why. Kabul. He was back three weeks and they broke up and Splinter’s downward spiral continued from there.
“Any luck fishing?”
Splinter said nothing.
“What?”
“Need better bait.”
Splinter waded out into the shoals, eyes scanning for shiners. Schools of the tiny fish darted about, but catching one with your hands was like trying to catch smoke.
Seeing him struggling, Lenah said, “I saw a piece of netting over there,” she said, pointing to an outcrop of rocks on the eastern tip of the island. There was no rock beach there, and the deeper water encroached into the mangroves.
“In those rocks?”
“Yeah, about half way out.”
“Wait here, be right back.”
Splinter waded down the rock covered shoreline and moved into the shallow water to skirt the mangroves. When he reached the natural jetty, he started climbing, rock by rock, working his way out.
“Splinter! Splinter!”
Splinter smiled. He’d gotten used to the sound of her voice calling his name. Liked it even. He turned to see her jumping up and down, waving her arms and yelling, though he couldn’t make out what she was saying. A block of ice fell into Splinter’s stomach and he whipped his head around.
A knot of water rose from the ocean, and the beast launched from the sea, spearing forward, mouth open, eyes locked on him as if he were the last morsel of food on the planet and the apex croc was determined to have it.
The beast crashed back into the sea ten feet away, and the ensuing surge of whitewater knocked Splinter from the rock he stood on and he tumbled headlong into the Atlantic. He came up sputtering and coughing and got a good look at the creature.
It was thirty-feet long, and more white than gray. It had an elongated tail like a crocodile’s, but instead of ending in a sharp tip, it ended in the now familiar caudal fin. Its dolphin-like torso had a diameter of twenty feet, with two large flippers protruding from each side behind the creature’s head. At the end of each flipper there were half-formed claws that reminded Splinter of lizards and dinosaurs. The creature’s jaws snapped as it thrashed in the heaving ocean. Behind its head on both sides ran thin cuts that opened and closed.
When the monster realized it missed its prey, the predator pushed upward with its flippers, and thrust toward Splinter, trying to catch him in its jaws as it landed in shallow water.
Splinter went under, and the beast landed next to him, its right flipper holding him in place between two rocks under the crashing waves. For the moment he was safe, so he held his breath, the flipper pinning him in, and waited for croczilla to breach or roll off.
He got sucked from his hiding place when the beast shifted position. Splinter stroked down and away, but he hit bottom. If the beast came down on him, he’d be crushed.
Splinter changed direction and headed toward the beach, swimming along the torn-up bottom. He heard the muffled mumble of the creature’s wail, and the splashing water sounded like the tsunami all over again. He stroked up and broke the surface.
He hadn’t swum toward shore, but away from it.
The creature struggled in the shallow water, its gills flaring, tongue lashing out as it searched for food. Lenah stood in the mangroves, waving her arms. Splinter got low, leaving only his head above the surface, the sun burning his face.
23
The tide rose and the waves that pushed across the shoals got bigger and stronger. The beast pushed backward, using its flippers to propel its huge body back into deeper water.
A rush of whitewater washed Splinter into the natural jetty, but he thrust out his arms and pulled himself onto a stone. He stared at the creature, still unable to fully process its existence. Though it looked like a huge white crocodile with flippers and a longer mouth, Splinter now knew it was no such thing. Crocs were reptiles and needed air to breathe, and whatever the beast was, and wherever it came from, its gills marked it as an underwater creature, which meant the beast couldn’t live out of water long.
As a seaman who lived on the waters of Florida, Splinter knew there were more issues with the croc theory than size. They didn’t like cold water, and if he was right and the creature came from the rift valley where the water was cold, he didn’t see how that could work. They were dealing with something hitherto unseen.
There were reasons the mutated croc theory did make sense, however. Body structure. Facial features. Crocodiles can tolerate saltwater due to specialized salt glands for filtering out salt, and scientists believed warm water was expelled from the vents at the bottom of the world’s deepest valleys and trenches. Also, crocodiles have a much higher level of aggression than other crocodilians.
A geyser of seawater jetted from the ocean like a stream from a whale’s blowhole, and the beast breached. Its white hide glistened in the sunlight and hit the water like a brick.
Lenah ran down the shoreline waving her arms. A chill fell over Splinter. The creature submerged, but on the western horizon about two miles away a tuna tower shined, its stainless steel reflecting the sunlight.
Splinter worked his way over the rocks to the shoals and back to Lenah and Poseidon.
“We need to signal them,” she said.
“How, exactly? I doubt they’ll see you running around with your hands in the air.”
“To quote you; you got a better idea?”
Splinter said nothing. With only the clothes on their backs to assist them, Splinter didn’t know another way, so he joined Lenah. He ran along the shore, splashing through the tidal water that was now a foot deep, waving his arms. The boat looked like it might be coming their way, but it was hard to tell. There was still a lot of ocean between the boat and Seagull Island.
Out beyond the wave break the creature’s caudal fin moved back and forth, its giant flat head floating just below the surface.
“You think it’s safe on the shoreline?”
“As long as we keep an eye on it, yeah. We need to stay here anyway, signaling this boat may be our only chance.”
“Wish we could make some smoke. They’d definitely see that.”
Poseidon meo
wed from her spot atop a stone. She curled her tail around herself, and put her head down on her front paws as her green eyes watched them.
The boat on the horizon was slowly growing closer as it moved on a northeast course that would take it past the island on the northern side. This path would take the ship across the debris field, if there was anything left floating.
The boat got closer, but either the captain didn’t see them, or he didn’t care, because the ship got close to the island but didn’t stop. Splinter and Lenah screamed, waved, but to no avail. The vessel passed the island and continued northeast, then to Splinter and Lenah’s delight the boat turned around and headed straight for Seagull Island.
“Thank someone,” Lenah said.
“They must have seen pieces of the Parker floating.”
“Oh, shit,” Lenah said.
“What?” Splinter followed her gaze, and said, “Double oh shit.”
The unknown ship was sailing right toward the creature.
“We need to warn them,” Lenah said.
“Great idea, wish I’d thought of it,” Splinter said.
Lenah stared out at the sea and said nothing.
“They probably have some kind of SONAR. They’ll see it.”
“How do you know that?” Lenah said.
“The tuna-tower. It’s a fishing boat, therefore it will have a fish finder, no?”
Lenah said nothing as she looked out to sea, brow furrowed, neck muscles tight.
The mystery boat was a half mile offshore when the predator surfaced like a sub rising from the depths. First the rectangular caudal fin, then the top of its head, and finally the long mouth of teeth.
Lenah grabbed Splinter’s arm, and he flinched. “Damn, Lenah.”
“Sorry.”
The ship turned abruptly to port, presumably because the boat’s skipper had seen the creature. The vessel tilted, the tuna tower leaning at a sixty-degree angle. The beast wailed, a long mournful scream that sounded like the monster was injured. It shot from the ocean, jaws spread, and slammed into the boat’s starboard side. The vessel held its ground, but was rocked hard and the ship momentarily disappeared beneath a swell of whitewater as the beast crashed back into the sea.
Shadow Of The Abyss Page 14