Fathomless

by Greig Beck

  “I think they’re firing in the air.”

  Olander spun. “Bullshit.” He turned to the cameraman. “Edit those last remarks out; Russians don’t give warning shots.”

  He snatched the field glasses from her hand and after quickly refocusing for a few seconds; he saw she was probably right. Olander got to his knees. He lowered the glasses and whistled again, waving his second boat in closer.

  They waved back, and did a huge loop in the water, beginning to speed back towards him.

  “Will we paint them now?” Annabel asked.

  He watched Flying Bird-1 come back in; the half disc of a huge setting sun silhouetted the small boat as it threw up a rooster tail of white spray behind it.

  “I think…” Oleander’s words froze in his mouth. Flying Bird-1 was rising in the air, a mountain of dark flesh coming up beneath it that was wider than the entire boat.

  There were no screams, as most of the dinghy seemed to fall back into a massive hole that extended forward before a prison of jagged white bars closed over the small boat. The thing fell back into the water, creating a massive wave.

  “What…?” Olander gulped, his brain feeling like it was short-circuiting from confusion.

  There was little debris, except for a solitary figure, swimming furiously towards them.

  “What just happened?” His brain was still locked.

  “We need to pick them up,” Annabel screamed.

  Once again the huge lump rose in the water, coming up behind the single swimmer. This time a recognizable triangular shaped fin also lifted. Big. Bigger than anything Olander had ever witnessed in his life. Whether the figure saw or realized what was behind him, he never knew – he hoped not. In the next second, the lump surged, a massive maw opened, lined with huge jagged teeth, and then it crashed down on top of the poor soul. Just as quickly as it appeared, the behemoth submerged.

  Olander stood in the bow, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He looked down in time to see the huge shape surge past just below the clear water. The thing was momentarily turned sideways. Time seemed to slow as his brain fired into overdrive and adrenaline surged through him. He saw it all – the dead black eye as large as a dinner plate that he was sure was fixed upon him. A single arm, hanging only by the tattered red material of its sleeve, extended from the side of massive jaws now clamped shut, and a gray-black torpedo shaped body that seemed to go on forever.

  He sunk to his knees; his legs wouldn’t hold him upright anymore. “Fu… fu… fucking, get us out of heeere!”

  The dinghy started up with a roar, and spun in the water, heading back to their mother ship. He suddenly realized what the Slava crew were yelling at them – not dark, but fucking shark – they had been trying to warn them.

  All of Olander’s teeth showed in a grimace that was like a frightened chimpanzee. It was miles to the Gaia Warrior, an impossible distance with this creature in the water.

  Olander spun. “We’ll never make it.” He pointed. “To the Slava.”

  He fell back as the boat turned sharply. The Slava was only five hundred feet away – they could make that. He sat up, spinning one way then the next. It was going on full dark now, and there was only a half moon rising. The water was still glass-smooth, and there was nothing on the surface to break its glimmering sheen.

  He waited, his stomach roiling. The moon made the water a sea of mercury, and he bit his lip as they cut through it. Maybe it had gone, eaten enough and dived deep. As if in answer to his question, the tip of a fin rose in the water, then more and more of it, until the nine-foot triangle of dark flesh resembled a small sail, cutting the water, keeping pace and not a thousand feet out from them.

  “Faster.” His command was high and shrill, though he knew they were already travelling as fast as the dinghy could go.

  “Where?” Was all he heard his pilot could yell to him.

  Olander squinted, seeing the rope mesh strung at the sides of the boat. “To the nets.”

  They could make it. He turned, snatching a peek, and saw the monster shark had closed the gap and was coming impossibly fast. Now a wake had formed more than a dozen feet in front of it, as the ten-foot wide spade-shaped head was rising in the water, perhaps getting ready to lunge as it had with the Flying Bird-1, and take them the same way.

  Olander felt a small whine escape his throat and hunched. Even though they skimmed across the flat-water at around thirty knots, the shark seemed to be toying with them, closing with little difficulty. He stepped a little closer to the bow, preparing to leap for the net the moment they were close enough.

  “Easy, eeeas-ssssy.” He wouldn’t look back at it, he couldn’t.

  The dinghy came in hard and fast, and though the pilot tried to swerve it in sideways, he still managed to come in at an angle of about sixty degrees, making the small craft hit and bounce.

  “Abandon ship.” Olander was already leaping, his fingers hooking like claws to the net. He struggled, a long life of good food created a sagging belly that made his climb difficult. Beside him bodies thumped and scrabbled, the more youthful and lithe going up the nets like Capuchin monkeys.

  There was some splashing and yelling from behind and below, and it told him not everyone had made a successful leap. The dinghy, now free of people began to float away. Olander was ten feet up, and hearing his name yelled, chanced a look back.

  Annabel was flailing in the water, and she spluttered and thrashed as she struggled to get her hands wrapped around the rope netting. Above, people yelled encouragement, and helped the others over the side.

  “Hurry, hurry,” he yelled back at her.

  “I caan’t…” Her voice was a long scream.

  Olander turned away and continued to climb, just as the side of the boat clanged deeply, and was rocked as something struck it hard. Looking back, he saw the massive jaws of the beast scraping the ship where Annabel had been seconds before. He thought he saw her face screaming even under water, but knew it was probably only his imagination.

  The monster shark pulled back, and with it started to go the netting that had snagged on its shovel-sized teeth.

  Olander whimpered and climbed; the shaking net became impossible to hold onto as its angle moved outwards. He started to hear rope strands popping and separating, and to his horror saw that the tears were occurring above not below him.

  He wailed as gunfire sounded just over his head. The shark momentarily released and then re-gripped the ropes a little higher, as if it was trying to climb after him. He scrambled up a few more of the rope squares, but actually felt he was lower towards the waterline than before, and he knew his boots must only be feet above that cavernous mouth.

  Olander refused to look back, but he could smell something now – the deep sea, old and new meat, and a sense of ancient waters lost in some dark primordial time. He knew he was smelling the insides of thing as it opened its jaws trying to get to him.

  Olander realized he was crying when he was finally pulled up and over the gunwale. The nets tore then, and as he fell to the deck, they were whipped away and below the now pitch dark water.

  He stayed down. Fear had rolled him into a tight ball, shivering uncontrollably. Olander felt a soft hand on his shoulder, one of his crewmembers, and he swung an arm.

  “Get away, you little prick.”

  It was not supposed to happen like this, and he quickly wiped his face with a soaking arm. He stood, and saw his crew staring at him, confused and frightned as hell.

  He straightened, hating the monster, but hating them more for fucking up. He quickly wiped his eyes and face again, and then met their eyes. “I weep for our lost brothers and sisters. You should too.”

  * * *

  Jack caught Cate as she slid to the deck. Her face was bleached of color and her eyes had momentarily rolled back. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

  She moaned, and then sat forward. He rubbed her neck, and after another few seconds she nodded, but he still felt her shaking beneath his hands.
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  “So scared.”

  “Me too.” He turned. “Get me some water, quick.”

  Regina rushed back with a plastic bottle, and knelt to look into her face as Cate drank. “She’s in shock.”

  “I’m fine, I’m fine.” She drank deeply, waving Sonya and Drago away.

  Jack leant closer to her “We’re okay, darling; it can’t get us here.”

  “I thought I could handle seeing it again,” Cate whispered. She wiped her mouth and nose, but continued to stare at the deck.

  Regina stood. “We’re fucked,” she yelled. Her jaw jutted as she stared at the remaining Earthpeace crewmembers that sat huddled together, hugging their knees or each other.

  “Ease up, Ginny,” Vincent said. “We’re safe here. We can call in one of the long-range Coast Guard choppers and lift us all off. Then tow this big lug into harbor.”

  Mironov turned to click his fingers at Drago. “Get the whale carcass in. No use just feeding the Megalodon.” He looked over the side. “Not while we’re dead in the water.”

  “Thanks a fucking lot!” Regina yelled at the crew, then stormed to the railing.

  Cate exhaled with a judder. “We just need to get out of here.”

  One of the dinghy crew got to his feet, and cleared his throat. “Excuse me, who’s in charge here?”

  Eyes turned towards the silver haired, bedraggled looking figure. He smoothed his soaking pullover.

  “My name is Olander Blomgren, Captain Olander Blomgren, and it seems you have put us, and yourselves in danger. That whale you killed and dragged here has obviously attracted some sort of massive shark-like predator. I can’t tell you of the trouble you’ll be in when we get back home.”

  Mironov stood smiling with arms folded. He looked like he was enjoying the show.

  “Piss off.” Regina took a few steps towards him, but Vincent grabbed her and hauled her back to talk quietly with her.

  Olander’s teeth were grit, and he took several quick steps towards Vincent and grabbed his shoulder. “Do you have any idea—”

  Vincent spun and took him by his collar, pulled him close for a moment so their noses almost touched, and then pushed him back hard. “Get away from me, asshole.”

  Olander was a big man, but he staggered back, now looking a little wild-eyed. He balled his fists, spluttering. “That’s, that’s assault. You’re an American and I’ll fucking sue you back to the Stone Age.”

  There was a small click, and Olander’s mouth snapped shut.

  Sonya had a small, dark pistol pointed dead center at the man’s temple, her eyes calm and unblinking.

  “Sonya,” Jack warned.

  “Little man, you – just you – have stranded us. Just you with your stupid little protest. You have managed to get your own people killed, and now, just you, dare to make demands on our boat?” She stepped in closer; her gun now pressed to his skin. “Please tell me why I shouldn’t have you put back over the side?”

  Olander gulped, eyes darting. “I’m an American citizen, and you can’t.”

  Jack helped Cate to her feet. “I’m okay,” she said and swiveled her head on her neck for a few seconds. “Let him go, Sonya. He’s guilty of being an asshole, that’s all.”

  Sonya’s eyes bored into Olander. She continued to hold the gun to his temple and didn’t move a muscle.

  Valery Mironov came and stood in front of Olander. “Dear sir, you’re aboard my ship, and you’re endangering my crew. I’m well within my rights to neutralize any threat to life or limb. And besides, you’re now starting to annoy me. So listen, you overblown, stupid little man, sit down and shut up, so we can try and get us all out of here.”

  Valery Mironov glared, his eyes going from indifferent to suddenly blazing with animosity. It was the first time Cate had seen the man step out of his calm and congenial guise. He was terrifying.

  Olander shrunk back, holding up his hands. “Okay, okay, no need to get heavy. Let me just radio my mother ship, and they can come and take us all off.”

  “We should just lock them up below deck. They’ve vandalized private property.” Regina folded her arms, and stuck her chin out. “And here’s the news, we weren’t even fucking hunting whales, you pack of assholes.”

  “I just want him off the ship. But he also needs to tell his people to stay clear for now, as I doubt they’re in the type of armored tank we are.” Sonya reholstered her gun. “But, we’re here, the Megalodon is here, and we need to take the shot.”

  Jack looked at the signal tracker. “It’s still right below us, circling.” He raised his eyebrows. “Sonya’s right; we might not get another chance.”

  “Then let’s do what we came for,” Cate said.

  Regina ran a hand up through her short, damp hair. “Gonna be tough without maneuverability; we’re dead in the water.”

  “Looks like no more whale hunts for this death ship.” Olander turned to smile confidently at his crew who seemed to perk up at the news.

  Jack put his hands to his head. “You idiot. That thing we were hunting will kill more whales than this boat ever could. It’s killed people, other sharks and I can’t imagine how much other marine life.”

  “That’s nature’s way,” one of Olander’s crewmembers added.

  “Not anymore,” Cate fired back. “It might have been nature’s way a few millions years back, but this thing does not belong here, in these waters, in this time. End of story.”

  “You shouldn’t be in these waters either.” Olander narrowed his eyes.

  “Uh, maybe they’ve got a point, skipper.” Another of Olander’s crewmembers still hugged himself tight. “We’re a little over our heads on this one. Let’s just call it a day; get the fuck out of here.”

  “Annabel is dead.” Olander shot back. “Because they are here, it is here. And because it is here, our sisters and brothers are now dead.”

  “Wrong, it’s attracted by sound and movement, buddy. And you gave it plenty.” Jack’s jaw jutted.

  Olander kept facing his crew. “You drew it here to kill it, because it’s the only thing you know how to do. And now good people are dead. The world needs to know what you’re all doing.” He held out an arm back towards Jack and Cate. “These are the ones who are over their heads. You all know the only thing that will really keep us, and the ocean’s life safe, is the eyes and ears of the world. And they’ll be here soon.”

  “Oh for god’s sake.” Cate threw her hands up.

  Sonya growled, and Mironov went and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Best we get him out of our sight. But first make sure he warns his people away. I don’t want anymore lambs slaughtered today.”

  “Yes, let me speak to them.” Olander nostrils flared.

  Drago walked him up to the bridge room, followed by Cate, Jack, Sonya and Valery Mironov. They quickly found Olander’s correct frequency, and handed him the microphone. He cleared his throat.

  Cate leaned towards him. “Just tell them to wait where they are until the Coast Guard gets here. Or better yet, retreat to an even safer distance.”

  Mironov watched the man with narrowed eyes, one corner of his mouth turned up.

  Olander’s lips twisted into a sneer. “You really have no idea who we are, do you?” He pressed the open button on the hand set. “Captain Olander to the Gaia Warrior, over.”

  “Captain! Welcome back – what happened – both dinghies went off the screen. We thought the Russians had sunk you.”

  He smiled thinly. “In a roundabout way they did. They seem to have attracted an oversized ocean predator to themselves, using the corpse of a murdered cetacean.” He sucked in a deep breath. “And our sister, Annabel, is dead.”

  Cate screwed her eyes shut and pressed a hand to her forehead.

  “Those fucking bastards,” came the seething response over the line.

  “Yes, they are.” Olander turned to Cate and Sonya, his eyes flat. “But there will be justice.” Olander turned his back. “Take no calls from anyone, but me. Pleas
e proceed to our position at maximum speed. I want off this floating pirate ship now.”

  Jack lunged. “You idiot!”

  Olander signed off and tossed the mic in the air.

  Drago caught it, and stood with it clasped in his huge fist, looking like he was going to crush it.

  “Get him out of here.” Sonya’s yell bounced around the small room, and Drago grabbed Olander’s collar and jerked him off his feet.

  Mironov smiled from under lowered brows. “So foolish, and so predictable. Take him out.”

  Olander held his hands up over his head, batting at the Russian, but Drago just dragged him to his feet, and pushed him towards the lower deck door. “Come on; you and your crew get to sit this one out.”

  They followed him down to the deck, and Olander’s crew got to their feet. Some stood pale and docile, while others began cursing and throwing threats, but none dared to actually intervene. Drago and a few of his crewmembers rounded them up, and led them to rooms below. Vincent watched them go for a moment more.

  “Guy’s an asshole, but the law might be on his side. If we detain him, there’ll be repercussions.”

  “Happy to help push him and his hipster crew over the side,” Regina said.

  “We rescued him and his friends. We aren’t detaining him, but are concerned by his erratic behavior.” Mironov’s smile was without humor. “And I have a legal team that’ll tear him to shreds if he wants to go anywhere near a courtroom.” He turned away to walk to one of the windows. “So, here we are.” He spun back to Jack. “Do we try and take this thing down, or do we baton down the hatches and wait until we are rescued… by Olander’s crew.”

  Drago reappeared in another minute, and nodded to Mironov. He opened his mouth, but before he could say a word, the massive collision threw them all to the bridge room floor.

  Only Vincent remained on his feet, his experienced sea legs braced. “Jesus Christ. Was that what I think it was?”

  Jack leapt to his feet and rushed to the railing. “Drago, get the spot lights on.” He gripped the gunwale railing and leaned over.