by Mike Monahan
“I will too,” Regis put in.
Micko tried several times to call Buddy on the cell phone, but was unable to make contact. Long distance cell phone service from Micronesia was unreliable, so he had no idea when Buddy would arrive. “I feel so useless sitting here while all those bodies are rotting away across the atoll,” he commented.
***
Regis and Pete led the professor down an overgrown path to a small dock not far from the main pier.
“My boat is over there,” Pete announced.
Dr. Collins saw a line of small skiffs that were equipped with sails rather than motors. He guessed that the fishermen of Bikini Island were not as well off as the fishermen of Shark Alley Island, most of whom had outboard motors on their skiffs.
Pete began to untie the bowline of a lime green boat when the professor suddenly broke out laughing.
“Lilliputian! You named your boat the Lilliputian?”
“I thought it was quite apropos, don’t you?” Pete mocked.
The night breeze was still steady and the trip was faster than expected.
“Don’t you make enough money to buy a small motor?” the professor asked Pete.
“Sure, I had a motor, but I use the sail now.”
Dr. Collins was perplexed. “Why?”
“Because he was drunk one night and dropped his motor off the pier into the deep end of the lagoon,” Regis laughed.
The three men laughed until they approached the wharf of Shark Alley Island. The sky behind the dock was still glowing in a bright amber hue as the remains of the once luxurious hotel and casino burned. Suddenly, the wind shifted and the sailors got a whiff of the pungent odor of burnt flesh. They simultaneously used their shirts to cover their noses as they sailed past the awful pyre.
Soon they approached the fishing village, and Pete tied the Lilliputian to a small piling sticking up near the shore.
“I’ll go to Flacka’s and have her warn the people to avoid the great lawn area until after the authorities investigate,” Regis stated.
“I’ll get my journal,” the professor added.
“Okay, I’ll stay here with the boat. Hurry,” Pete said.
Regis raced to Flacka’s hut and found most of the village elders inside. He bowed respectfully, apologized for barging in, and relayed Micko’s warning about scavenging. The elders spoke amongst themselves and agreed. Tiki and Chino were designated to assign rebels to guard the site against the rabble who would pilfer anything that wasn’t nailed down.
Regis took his leave and raced back to the Lilliputian, meeting the professor along the way. Dr. Collins was mumbling to himself as Regis helped him back into the skiff. The scientist had a death grip on his journal as Pete sailed back to Bikini Island. Regis watched them disappear into the death glow of the fiery remains of the Majestic wharf before going into the hovel he called home.
***
Micko, James, and the lovely Jaynnie talked incessantly while they awaited the professor’s return.
“This is the most bizarre vacation I have ever taken,” Micko said, “and this was supposed to help my frayed nerves and injured leg. Ha! My nerves are more frayed, my leg is throbbing in pain, and my eardrums are probably ruptured.”
“The professor and I will probably make ichthyology history with our research on the behavior of these gray reef sharks and other aquatic creatures here in this radioactive atoll,” James smirked.
“If the dive business ever gets over the slaughter on the USS Saratoga, at least we won’t have any competition from the Majestic Hotel and Casino,” Jaynnie chuckled.
Just then, the professor arrived and held his journal high above his head, “James, this research will make you famous.”
“Where’s Pete?” Jaynnie asked.
“He’s tending to his boat and said to tell you that he’s going straight to bed.”
“Well, it’s about time I called it a night myself,” Jaynnie declared. She winked at Micko and whispered, “I have breakfast at the lodge at seven a.m. You should join me.”
Micko felt like he was on cloud nine as she left.
The scientists immediately began babbling about their work until Micko begged, “Gentlemen, please! Put a cork in it until after you give me a physical.”
Dr. Collins and James gave Micko a thorough examination and determined that his ear damage was slight, and the nosebleed and ruptured eye vessels were minimal. They were a bit concerned over his headache and overall body aches. The force of the explosion had focused primarily forward toward the barracuda from hell, but there were enough backlash shockwaves to beat the shit out of Micko’s body.
“You don’t have a concussion, but I bet you could use a handful of Tylenol,” James joked.
“I don’t like the way you favor your right leg. I want you to stay in bed for a day or two and let your body rest,” the professor added more seriously. “Besides, that’s what you came here for in the first place, isn’t it?”
“You know, all Danish women are taught how to give a man a proper massage,” James hinted.
“I think I could stay in bed for a whole year with Jaynnie giving me daily massages,” Micko said with a laugh.
He decided to take a few Tylenol and hit the sack while the scientists went over their radioactive fish theories. Sleep did not come easy as the vision of Celestial’s bobbing half body haunted him.
***
Micko awoke the next morning hearing excited chatter from the living room. He struggled out of bed and limped to the parlor. The professor, James, and Jaynnie were hosting Buddy and a phalanx of FBI.
“What time is it?” he asked blearily.
“Two o’clock in the afternoon, Detective,” Jaynnie cooed.
“Two o’clock!”
“Easy, Micko. From what I hear you needed it.” Buddy smiled warmly.
“We kept your breakfast date with Jaynnie and filled the FBI in on all the gory details of the past few days,” James chuckled.
“How do you feel today, sleepyhead?” Jaynnie teased.
Micko smiled at her. “I feel like I was run over by a Mack Truck, but I’ll survive.”
She handed him a cup of coffee. “There are plenty of donuts on the table. I hear all you cops like donuts,” she quipped, flashing that million-dollar smile.
Micko ate hungrily as a dozen conversations exploded at once. He learned that the Bikini resort ferry had picked up the FBI gang at the airport in Eneu just an hour earlier. The FBI lab people were checking and assembling their gear as Micko and Buddy spoke.
“You guys are going to have a hell of a time cleaning up this mess,” Micko groaned. “There are dead politicians, celebrities, royalty, and of course, VIP mobsters. I have the ledger that they referred to as the Bible hidden. We can get it later. I’m sure it contains all the evidence that you need to close the money-laundering ring and make numerous arrests in Hawaii, California, and New York. This whole affair should be quite a feather in your cap.”
“Okay, let’s get started. We’ll use the same ferry that got us here from Eneu to bring us to the scene of the crime,” Buddy declared.
“Jaynnie, do you have any vapor rub in your apartment?” Micko asked.
“Sure, why?”
“Can you please get it for me? I’ll explain later.”
Micko, the scientists, and the FBI crew boarded the ferryboat for the ride across the atoll. It was another typical South Pacific day. The sun was hot, and there was barely a breeze. The lagoon water was as placid as a sheet of glass. Marine birds were flying about, and an occasional fish leapt out of the water in an attempt to elude a predator. Birds were chirping and bees were buzzing. It was a quiet, peaceful, and serene setting until the ferry neared Shark Alley Island.
Nature seemed to have vanished abruptly as the ferry neared the charred remains of the wharf. James let out an audible groan as he saw the remains of the Happy Monkey beached at the foot of the great lawn. The luxury sport fishing boat was burned right down to the water
line. All of the boats that had been moored or docked the previous night had suffered significant damage. The entire dock area was void of all life—human and otherwise.
“We watched the horror from here,” Micko told Buddy.
The ferry had a difficult time finding a safe spot to drop off the investigators. The ferry captain managed to drop off a few FBI men, who then set several burned boats adrift to make room for docking at a still-sturdy section of the pier. Buddy Burger had a crew of six investigators with him, and they all were in awe of the ghastly scene that lay before them.
Undoubtedly these seasoned men had been to some horrific crime scenes, but this one seemed to shock even them. Micko pulled out the vapor rub and gave himself a menthol mustache as the FBI guys put on surgical masks and gloves. Soon all the men had clear gel under their noses masking the horrible stench.
The fires were out, but smoke emanated from numerous sources. The pile that was once the Majestic Hotel and Casino was now a thick haze of smoldering exhaust. Numerous corpses could be spotted among the ruins. Evidently, some VIPs or staff members had sought shelter only to be engulfed by the conflagration that left only their skeletal remains.
A somber mood engulfed the FBI as they conducted a professional investigation. Some members of the team erected a temporary headquarters tent, complete with a field lab, while others collected evidence once the video and photos were taken. DNA samples were collected so that the victims could be positively identified. Weapons were vouched along with the personal possessions of the deceased. It was a huge task that would take weeks to complete.
“Micko, why don’t you take me to the Bible?” Buddy asked. “My men have the situation under control here.”
Tiki agreed to take them up the coast to Bokbata Island. Micko liked Tiki, but he didn’t want to give away the location of the shark cemetery. Celestial had been a good friend, and he had showed this holy place to him in the strictest of confidence. He believed that the sharks were God’s protectors of the atoll, and that when their job was done, they came to that special location to die and return to God. Their graveyard had to be revered, just like any human graveyard.
In honor and respect for Celestial, Micko asked Tiki to beach the skiff hundreds of yards shy of the shallows where the sharks’ bones were at rest. Tiki did as he was directed, and Micko hopped out of the boat.
“Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
He ran deep into the foliage and then circled back to the tree where he had buried the Bible ledger, retrieved it, and then retraced his steps and returned to the boat.
“This is a pretty desolate area,” Tiki said to the returning detective.
“I know. I found it when I got lost. Now let’s get out of here,” Micko demanded.
Jaynnie met them as they were returning to the Bikini resort. “Well, I have some good news, Mr. FBI man,” she said. “I just called the ferry, and it’s coming back to take the surviving VIP guests to the airport to fly home. You and your men can use their vacated accommodations starting tonight.”
Then she turned to Micko. “Mr. Detective, you can have your own private room to convalesce in. What do you think about that?”
“Fabulous!”
She continued, “I just brought Dr. Collins and James some food. I’ll order some for you two, but first, I’ll show Buddy to his room. Then you need a massage. “I want you to take a hot shower, and come out with a towel wrapped around you. You’re getting a massage while we wait for the food to be delivered. I’ll be waiting with my table and my healing oils.”
She eyed him up and down. “ From the bruises I can see, and the stiff way you’re walking, I will need at least two weeks to massage you back to health.” She winked and flashed that beautiful smile. “Your real vacation has just begun.”
***
The recent unnatural tidal surges caused the eggs to smack into each other. This hastened the hatching of the first juvenile. Although awkward and clumsy It remained in the nest hungrily waiting until Its siblings hatched. Then, like the previous half century, It consumed the other juveniles- one by one. This new predator would grow faster and stronger than its predecessors as a new generation of mutants evolved.
The end, or is it?