Shadow Of The Abyss

by Edward J. McFadden III

  The beast turned in a wide arc, its flippers digging into the sea, caudal fin thrashing back and forth as it lined up for another attack run.

  Will came back out on deck, his gun by his side, and for an instant Splinter thought he might raise it and point it at him, but he didn’t. His eyes shot daggers, and most of them pierced Splinter’s heart. Will was right to hold him responsible for Lenah’s death. He’d brought her out here. She’d done it all for him, and like everyone else who cared for him, now she was dead.

  Donny brought The Day After in closer as the beast plucked another person from the sea like a pelican snagging shiners. Screaming and wails of pain, snapping bones and tearing flesh filled Splinter’s mind as the creature chewed, the shark circled, and the fog came on.

  Will screamed and opened up with his six-shooter as the creature arced past the sunken Sea Hunter IV and lined up on The Day After. He fired until the gun clicked empty. Will dug through his pockets, pulling out bullets and stuffing them into their cylinders, rotating the housing and slipping in bullets.

  Donny stopped The Day After so Will could line up a steady shot and put six more down the thing’s gullet.

  A white HH65 Dolphin helicopter with an orange strip came in fast, buzzing over the scene. Wind tore at Splinter’s hair, and Will grabbed the gunnel to brace himself.

  Splinter watched the helicopter, and saw Silva waving his hands, pointing.

  The creature rose from the water and Will held his gun out before him, sighting the beast’s head.

  The top of the creature’s head surfaced, and its caudal fin whipped as the beast surged toward The Day After. It was fifty yards out, but still Will didn’t fire.

  Forty yards.

  Splinter’s gaze flicked from the creature to Will and back to the beast as it dove beneath the waves.

  At thirty yards Will opened up, pulling the trigger in a steady rhythm, firing a shot a second, trying to line them up on the beast’s forehead like he was at the firing range.

  The monster slammed into The Day After and Will pitched over the gunnel into the sea.

  It was happening again. All of it. Roasting lamb. Gunpowder smoke. The blood and brains of one of his men splattered on his fatigues.

  Splinter ran to the gunnel and grabbed a life ring. Will was treading water next to The Day After, but the creature knifed at him.

  Donny gunned the engines and The Day After moved back, closer to Will who was slipping away from them with the rolling waves. The coastie copter came in low, wind tearing at the Atlantic, a rescue harness descending from the whirly-bird’s open bay door. Silva was there, next to a coastie in a dark blue work uniform who wore a white flight helmet with a blast shield covering half his face. Silva wore his suit like a g-man, his dark shades making Splinter smile.

  Just like Saigon, hey slick.

  “Yes!” Splinter yelled. He couldn’t get to Will in time, but Silva would.

  The creature came on. It was fifty yards from Will, and the life ring was only ten feet from the surface and his friend would soon be in it.

  Three coastie SAFE boats arrived like a fleet coming out of hyperspace, and they started rescuing passengers and firing on the beast. “No,” he yelled. “No!” If any of them missed, they could easily hit Will, who was putting his arms through the rescue harness. Will gave a thumb’s up, and the copter’s engines cycled up, and Splinter breathed a sigh of relief.

  But even as Will was pulled from the sea the creature rocketed from the water, launching itself at Will, jaws flexing open. The beast hung there for an instant, suspended in the air, a mound of whitewater holding it up. Will was silhouetted between the creature’s jaws, then they closed on his friend and Splinter yelled so loud he thought he blew out his vocal cords.

  The monster fell back into the sea, its jaws slamming up and down, blood and flesh flying from its long flat mouth.

  Splinter couldn’t move, fury built in him like a volcano preparing to erupt. The fog descended like an old friend as he climbed onto the gunnel and pulled his dive knife from its sheath strapped to his leg. He was going to crawl inside this motherfucker and cut its heart out, just like Jonas Taylor.

  The beast disappeared off the port bow as it circled The Day After.

  “Splinter you crazy shit, get down from there,” Donny said. He grabbed Splinter around the waist and tugged him off the gunnel and the two men toppled across the deck.

  Splinter sprang at Donny and grabbed him by the throat, pinning him. “What the hell are you—”

  Donny held up a grenade. “I th…o…”

  Splinter let go of the man’s throat, and Donny rubbed it, pure contempt written on his face.

  They got to their feet and Donny tossed the grenade to Splinter, who caught it. “I thought this might help,” Donny said.

  Splinter stared at the bomb in amazement, then looked up at Donny.

  “Friend of mine smuggled it home from Iraq. It’s live and has a ten second delay.”

  Splinter said nothing, but a smile crept across his face that felt more like a sneer.

  “Just pull the pin and make sure you’re nowhere near the thing when it goes,” Donny said.

  “No shit. I was a SEAL, remember?”

  “You are a SEAL. Now go get it, Splinter. You go get it, god damn it! For Will and Lenah.”

  Splinter checked the pin to ensure it was securely fastened, then headed to the bow, where he pulled the gantry arm free and attached the hoist cable to the Zodiac. The black fifteen-foot Mercury inflatable had a small side console with a stainless-steel wheel and throttle arm. The 20HP outboard was up and in the locked position.

  He activated the winch, and the Zodiac lifted from its holding cradles. He stopped the winch and nudged the dinghy over the gunnel railing, the arm swinging to a ninety-degree angle.

  Splinter lowered the tender into the ocean, grabbed the lead line, and worked the dinghy around to the dive platform.

  He looked back at Donny, who saluted him.

  Grenade in hand, Splinter leapt into the Zodiac. He pulled back on the engine cover and undid the bolt that held the motor in the up position. He eased the outboard into the water, and it locked in place with a click.

  He moved the throttle switch to neutral and yanked on the starter cable. Nothing. He primed the motor and pulled again, and the motor sputtered, but died. Third time was the charm, and the Merc roared to life.

  Splinter flipped the throttle switch to full speed, and jerked the control arm right, and the Zodiac cut left, heading straight for the monster.

  35

  The Zodiac bounced over the waves, the Merc whining. The scene had become a knot of boats. Three SAFE boats rescued passengers, and the whirly-bird circled overhead. Fate’s Fortune had disappeared beneath the waves, and what was left of the Sea Hunter IV floated upside-down, covered with survivors. Donny fell in behind Splinter with The Day After as they pressed toward the monster.

  Fog obscured his vision. Splinter rammed the creature’s side, turning hard to starboard at the last moment. The Merc’s propeller dug into the side of the monster, and the beast bucked and heaved, tossing the Zodiac from the water.

  The inflatable landed with a jarring crash and Splinter pitched into the sea. Waves broke over him as the Zodiac floated away. He heard Lenah’s voice in the back of his mind, but it wasn’t saying he should let go and join her. It was telling him to fight.

  The creature flipped, and its massive flat head crashed into the sea five feet from the Zodiac. Its jaws chomped and snapped, but that only pushed the inflatable closer to Splinter, who used the momentum of the surging whitewater to haul himself back into the dinghy. He pulled on the starter cable and the outboard roared to life. He slid the throttle switch to maximum and pointed the Zodiac west.

  The monster fell in behind him, gliding along the surface, steel gray eyes focused. Its caudal fin swayed back and forth, its flippers pushing through the sea.

  Splinter smiled as the scene of chaos receded into
the distance. He’d lead the beast into the confined sea walls of the inlet and ram the Zodiac and grenade down the sea monster’s gullet.

  The womp womp of rotor blades cutting through the air made Splinter search the sky. The Coast Guard whirly-bird tracked the chase as Splinter drew the creature away from the chaos.

  Splinter pressed on toward the setting sun, the Zodiac bouncing and heaving through the chop. The fog engulfed him, and his nerves shivered, and Splinter shook himself, trying to ease the feeling, but he couldn’t. He piloted the boat through a tunnel of light that had but one end; the mouth of croczilla. It seemed fitting, and that realization warmed his cold stomach and soothed his jumping nerves. Perhaps this was his destiny? Why everything had happened. So he could be in this time and place.

  He jumped a large set of waves and the Merc chirped and moaned, but didn’t stall. The coastline was a dark smudge in the grayness of the fading day, the red navigation light on the tip of the jetty at Ft. Pierce inlet still a mile off. Splinter looked back, and it was hard to see the creature as it knifed through the dark water.

  The helicopter thundered overhead, hanging back, waiting for Splinter to make his move, but Splinter wasn’t ready. He wanted to tire the beast out, disorient it, bring it to a spot where it had limited options, turn it from hunter to prey.

  As if reading Splinter’s mind, the beast torpedoed from the sea, its jaws snapping closed, feet from the Zodiac. The monster crashed back into the Atlantic and the ensuing surge of whitewater lifted the inflatable and pushed it down the face of a six-foot wave.

  Splinter jerked the control arm, and the outboard’s propeller grabbed the face of the wave. Water spilled overhead as the Zodiac was engulfed in the wave’s barrel.

  The rubber boat shot from the cave of seawater like a kid from the end of a water slide. The dinghy skittered over the surface, the outboard fighting to grab water. Splinter steadied the control arm and brought the boat straight, pointing the bow at the inlet, and the outboard dug into the sea.

  A sharp pain pierced Splinter’s neck and he slapped a hand over the area, killing a wasp. He held the dead bee between his thumb and forefinger, examining it in its death throes. The sound of the wind, the crashing waves, the pounding of helicopter rotors, all fell away like Splinter had passed into a bubble of silence. The wasp gave one last attempt to wiggle free of Splinter’s grasp, then fell still.

  What was this lone soldier doing out at sea all by himself? Wasps could fly up to ten miles a day, but clearly this guy had been lost. It made Splinter think of his long last relative, the captain of the Wasp. Was that long dead seaman trying to tell him something? Don’t join me in the locker?

  Fort Pierce inlet opened before him and Splinter guided the Zodiac into its mouth. Mangroves and beach ran by to the north, houses and seashore to the south. Ahead the bright lights of Fort Pierce glowed over Indian River as the sun sank below the horizon.

  When Splinter reached the inner bay, he spun the Zodiac around, the Merc sputtering and wheezing because of the sharp turn. The creature sliced through the water, one-hundred yards out and coming right at him. He had it boxed into the inlet and there it would end. Splinter smiled. He’d always loved a good game of chicken.

  When he was a boy, he’d played chicken on the railroad tracks with his friends. They’d wait in the woods until the train was a half mile off then run onto the tracks. The train’s conductor would throw on the brake, and sparks would fly as the metal wheels slid over the steel tracks.

  Splinter always won. He’d stay on that track until the shadow of the train fell over him, diving off at the very last instant. Once he cut his foot on the side of the train as it tore by because he’d been so close.

  The creature was ninety yards out, and it rose in a knot of whitewater.

  Splinter flashed back, and he was on the Parker, floating over the Atlantic. The entire sea turned red as the shark’s head burst from the ocean and splattered him with blood. The shark’s cold wet eyes searched his, and it smiled as if it knew something Splinter didn’t. The sea bubbled with red foam, and Splinter saw the faces of all those he’d killed staring up at him from the depths. This was his atonement. He’d make everything right.

  Eighty yards.

  Splinter heard the wail of the boy swimming by the yacht in the moment he realized he was going to die. The sound of breaking bones and tearing flesh forever etched on his brain. The wail of the child’s mother. And more blood red sea.

  Seventy yards. The Zodiac jumped a wave and the Merc sputtered.

  Splinter saw a boy’s severed hand in his mind’s eye. A tiny body covered in a tarp. Flashbulbs in his mind. Snapping. Reminding him.

  Sixty.

  The leviathan rising from the depths. Sucking people into its maw.

  Fifty yards. The creature’s white teeth glowed as it opened its giant jaws.

  The fishing charter listed in the rolling ocean, people falling into the sea, screaming. Sharks circled, the animals fed, and Splinter stood by helpless. Frozen. A coward. Unable to do anything. Just like his entire useless life. All he was good for was killing and getting people killed.

  Forty yards. A caudal fin tore through the water as the beast picked up speed for its attack.

  The scent of roasting lamb and gun smoke. A woman and an infant with one bullet. There was no way to atone for that. No explanation or justification that could put his mind at ease.

  Thirty yards. Splinter slipped his finger through the loop at the end of the grenade’s firing pin.

  Lenah. No. Lenah.

  She held his head in her hands. She was smiling, her eyes shining with life and energy. Her lips curled into her perpetual smile. She flattened his hair and said, “You need a haircut and a shave.”

  “I’m sorry, Lenah,” he said, but there was no one there to hear.

  Twenty yards. Splinter killed the outboard.

  “Hi, my name’s Will. You OK?”

  Splinter’s mind spun. He couldn’t trust this guy. Who the hell was he? What did he want?

  “Come on. I’ll get you some food,” Will had said.

  “Don’t waste your time on me, mister. I’ll only disappoint you.”

  “I know people. You’re worth the risk.”

  Ten yards.

  Splinter pulled the pin on the grenade and dropped it to the deck of the dinghy. The sound of the helicopter faded, and peace settled over him. This was right. Everything was right.

  The Zodiac skittered across the ocean, right into the creature’s opening jaws.

  Pain jolted Splinter’s back as his survival instinct kicked him in the ass, and he heard Will and Lenah yelling at him. There was nothing right about this. Being chow for croczilla wasn’t what he deserved, was it? He’d done his best and failed. He was guilty of that, but he’d earned the right to live, and now as death held the door open Splinter decided he’d like to stay outside for a while.

  The creature’s massive jaws engulfed the Zodiac and Splinter dove into the sea.

  The grenade detonated, and Splinter was thrown like a ragdoll in the maelstrom, the Atlantic, pieces of the creature and the dinghy swirling around him like a tornado. He saw Lenah’s face in his mind’s eye, and he smiled as the abyss took him.

  36

  A mosquito sucking blood from his cheek brought Splinter awake. He slapped at the little vampire, smacking himself in the face but missing the bug. He scratched the bite and rubbed his eyes. Seagulls cried, and a gentle breeze rattled leaves.

  He lay on a tangle of branches in the shade, stray beams of sunlight leaking though the mangroves. Splinter’s back ached, and he shifted position and almost fell into the water that sloshed beneath him. Splinter smiled. The sea had placed him on a natural platform as the tide washed out.

  Splinter laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

  ***

  Splinter was dead, and he liked it that way. Nobody noticed him or looked at him with reproach. He was a ghost like everyone else, lost in the mass of human
ity.

  He sat at a round table outside Bagel Boss, sipping his coffee and watching strangers. Nobody would recognize him even if they knew who he was because he’d shaved his beard, dyed his hair, gotten new clothes, and wore a Miami Dolphins cap and large mirrored sunglasses.

  He took a bite of his everything bagel and glanced through the plate glass window of the bagel joint. The clock above the checkout counter read 8:47AM. His funeral wasn’t until 9:30, so he had time.

  A three-day-old copy of the Miami Herold lay on the table before him with a flyer on top of it. The leaflet was clearly Lenah’s work, and it announced Splinter’s memorial service at South Florida National Cemetery in Lake Worth, which was an hour south of Fort Pierce. The announcement said retired police officer William Dodge would also be honored at the ceremony, though his grave marker was to be placed next to his wife’s in Coral Gables at a later date, and no service information had been announced. The flyer noted that next of kin were out of state.

  Splinter didn’t know how Lenah had managed to get him into the national cemetery, but since the police were calling him a hero, Splinter figured Silva cut all the red tape. The news coverage depicted Splinter as the man of the hour, and Silva was front and center, saying he’d seen Splinter drive the Zodiac into the mutant’s mouth and detonate the grenade, thus sacrificing himself to save others and atoning for his sins. Many mourners were expected at the service, especially since it was for Will as well. Though Will had no local family left, he’d been a cop in the area for many years, and half the people in St. Lucie county owed him a favor.

  Splinter picked up the paper and sipped his coffee. “Heel to Hero” was the headline, and below surrounded in text was a picture taken from Silva’s copter showing Splinter driving the Zodiac toward the beast’s open maw. The article described the creature as a large crocodile. Splinter figured that was also Silva’s doing. No need to worry the populace about things they can’t control, he’d say. Lenah had only a small mention in the article as one of the survivors rescued by the Coast Guard, but it had made Splinter cry like a baby. Even Guppy got an honorable mention for his posthumous donation of the Sea Hunter IV, which Splinter was sure would be replaced with a new boat thanks to insurance.