Kraken Rising: Alex Hunter 6

by Greig Beck

  “Goddamn Jackson!”

  He rammed one huge fist into the sub’s wall, making a dull thud run through the hull. He lowered his head again, crushing his eyes shut.

  Casey held onto Jennifer; the McMurdo woman looked to be in shock. She lifted her head to look at Alex. Her mouth worked but no words came. Rhino punched the sub hull again.

  “Rinofsky!” Alex’s voice brought Rhino’s head up. “Brave men die young.” Alex then turned to Jennifer. “He was a good man, but the time for mourning is later.”

  “Let’s go home,” Soong whispered.

  “Works for me,” Casey said.

  Rhino stood straighter and nodded once, and then Alex spun away from him. “You heard the lady; let’s go home. Blake get to the bridge, Franks, see what’s working. Rhino, down to the torpedo room. I want to know what we’re still packing. Everyone else, a quick reconnoiter of stores – what have we still got? Five minutes, double time, and then we meet on the bridge.”

  Alex went quickly along the steel corridor to the bridge room. It was small, and there was a central column with a periscope. Casey immediately pushed at it but nothing happened.

  “Dead,” she said, looking around in the confined space. She whistled. “No wonder we want it back.”

  Even though the submarine was nearly a decade old, it looked more like the inside of spaceship than that of an undersea vessel. Gleaming panels with banks of now darkened lights and small screens set into bench tops and walls. A single steering column with a U-shaped wheel had a swivel seat that Blake immediately slipped into, and began fiddling with buttons.

  Alex saw that blood ran from Blake’s multiple wounds, down his arms and onto his fingers. “Fix that bleeding, mister.”

  “On it.” Blake wiped his hands on his pants, turning about, searching for something he could use as Alex went to the main console, the only one that still glowed softly. There was a single square light blinking at its center, and one word printed there – REBOOT.

  He placed his fingertips over it, and exhaled slowly. Come on, baby, you can do it. He pressed down, and waited. Images of Joshua flashed through his mind, and his hand pressed even harder onto the glowing button. You damn well better do it, he urged.

  There was nothing. Alex imagined the electric drives reaching out to ask the question of the high-energy reactor plants, and receiving empty silence in response. He waited and felt a chill creep up his spine. There was no Plan B. The blinking REBOOT sign had vanished, and the screen remained dark.

  Alex could feel eyes on him. If the engines wouldn’t start, they would expect him to come up with something else. He knew there was nothing else. Please, baby, please. He placed his fingertips against the screen, praying now to everything and everyone he could think of.

  There was a tingle at his fingertips – static. And then a tiny hum and a sensation of a draft as if the sub was drawing its first breath in years. The nuclear onboard computers and reactors would have been sent into hibernation mode, awaiting a call to arms. But, receiving the call, they fired up, and then bank after bank of light panels came on. Overhead, lights began to cast a soft glow down on them as the machine came to life.

  “We got juice,” Casey yelled, as she was able to launch the periscope. It slid up silently and smoothly, and she leaned in to the eyecups. She began to pan. When she finished her rotation, she pulled her head back a fraction. “Yo; clear on all quadrants.”

  The speaker pinged, and Rhino’s voice came over the comms. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard the USS Sea Shadow. For your pleasure and protection, we have four torpedoes, conventional fish, and all looking like they just came out of their wrappers.”

  Alex smiled. “Good work, and that’ll do … it has to.”

  *

  Aimee was one of the first back, trailed by Cate, and then the rest of the team crowded into the small bridge room. They shared information; there were no rations, and the quarters were in disarray. It suggested that the men and women who had survived lived for some time onboard. Perhaps finally venturing out, to their deaths.

  Aimee shuddered at the thought of these brave men and women who were destined to have their heads end up as mere playthings, stacked neatly at the water’s edge. She watched as Alex moved fast to the side of the room, and she stepped out of the way, knocking something from a panel top to the floor. It looked like a folder.

  Alex turned to Blake. Jennifer was now fussing over his wounds, tying strips of her shirt over the deepest of them. “Here we go, people, pumping … now.” He engaged the pumps and a steady vibration could be felt through the vessel. He straightened, looking relieved. “Good, let’s give it a few minutes to do its job. At least then we won’t tear the Shadow’s belly out on the bottom.”

  Aimee bent to pick up the folder, surrounded by a hard plastic cover. She opened and began to read.

  “What have you got?” Cate looked over her shoulder.

  “It’s a log … of the Sea Shadow.” She frowned as she skimmed the pages. “Log of Commander Clint O’Kane, USS Sea Shadow. Dated 13-Oct-2008.” She looked up. “That’s a day after it went missing, isn’t it?”

  “Yes; read it; read that day,” Alex yelled as he and his team rushed from console to console. “Might give us an idea of what the hell happened.”

  Aimee started to flip more pages through to the last few entries.

  “Here we are,” she said, and started reading aloud.

  Log Entry 112. Date 13-Oct-2008. 1300 hours.

  Most of the crew rendered partially deaf from rapid depth-compression. Hull has held, and the reason why we are still alive. Somehow, we’ve run aground, and it is impossible to reconcile what we are seeing with the instrument readings – it says we are at a depth of over 6,000 feet, well below crush range. But we are on dry land, or partial dry land. Whatever attacked us seems to have vanished. Did it bring us here? Why? Periscope and view screens show semi dark atmosphere, like twilight. But chronologically it’s all wrong. Sending a crew out to investigate. We will attempt a refloat when they return.

  End Log Entry 112.

  Aimee’s hands gripped the log tighter. “It proves they made it, and were alive when they got here.” She licked dry lips and turned the page, reading aloud again.

  Log Entry 113. Date 14-Oct-2008. 0200 hours.

  Last night the thing returned, shaking the submarine, rolling it, and lifting it up. Like a child with a rattle. It’s gone now, but our sanity is being tested. Worse is, there is still no sign of crew. Party gone for over 12 hours. This exceeds orders for exploratory time frame. Sergeant Anderson was leading party – not a man to deviate from orders. Will not attempt a refloat until all crew accounted for. Communications are not working – no signals picked up. We are transmitting and hope to god someone can hear us. We know now, we are in some sort of cave … below the ground. There are other ships, all sizes, some from ages long past. What is happening here? Insane. Some sort of Bermuda Triangle, or perhaps we all died and are really all in hell. I must look for my crewmembers, and will personally lead a second team to find missing men.

  End Log Entry 113.

  She looked up, feeling a wave of nausea run through her. She could feel the man’s fear and confusion in every word. The other ships might have given the creature nothing but drowned bodies to pick over. But the Sea Shadow and its doomed crew was the first vessel the massive cephalopod had brought to its lair that contained something alive, and something to torment.

  Aimee wanted to help. She wanted to save them, or at least yell out to O’Kane and his crew to stay inside the submarine. But it was all too late; years too late. She pushed the images of the piled skulls from her mind once again.

  She swallowed a lump in her throat and felt the eyes of the group on her now. Even Alex had slowed in his workings to listen. She looked up at him.

  “Go on,” he said softy.

  She turned the page.

  Log Entry 114. Date 14-Oct-2008. 0600 hours.

&
nbsp; It was in the water, waiting for us. It took the men, snatched them up like they were nothing. It must be the thing that dragged us here, and has been stalking us ever since …

  Aimee paused her reading. In her mind, she saw the huge Ben Jackson swatted like a fly, and the Chinese soldiers snatched up like they weighed nothing. It would have been a nightmare to tear at these poor submariners’ sanity. She continued, wishing for the log entries to just end now.

  It’s been waiting for us to come out the whole time. Sidearms distributed, and we have sealed the hatch, but we know it is out there, we can feel it pressing against the hull. I think it could come in if it wants to. Down to three men – Morrison, Drake, and myself – just enough to run the submarine, but not even sure what we’d do then – go where? We are trapped.

  End Log Entry 114.

  “Oh god.” Aimee could feel the men’s fear – she had felt it herself. When she had escaped from the caves before, she had then spent time researching the giant creatures. Something that had caught her eye was an ancient Hawaiian tale. The tropical waters of the islands sometimes played host to the giant creatures. Though nothing like the monster down here, the threat to their fisherman was well understood. The Hawaiian ancestors had thought that these many-legged creatures were actually aliens who came to Earth long before humans existed.

  Perhaps this is what O’Kane and the fragmenting minds of his crew would have imagined. That their submarine had somehow been transported to a distant world, and the horrifying unearthly being attacking them was a denizen of that world.

  She drew in a deep breath. “This next is the last entry.”

  Log Entry 115. Date 25-Oct-2008. 1800 hours.

  Ten days sealed in now. Morale low, but first sign of hope has presented itself. There are people out there. Can see them moving in the shadows. The creature is gone, for now. Maybe they have scared it off. We’re going out to try and talk to them – we’ll leave the hatch open in case we need to run for it. Maybe the people can help us. Our distress beacon is still active. Can anyone hear us? God help us all. Commander Clint O’Kane, USS Sea Shadow.

  End Log Entry 115.

  Aimee flipped a few more pages, shaking her head. Her eyes were blurred, wet. “That’s it. They went outside, and then that’s it.”

  The room fell silent. O’Kane had been given a devil’s choice – stay inside and starve slowly, or leave the metal coffin they were in, and die quickly. Aimee knew it was the same coffin they were all in now. She shut the log.

  “So, going out to meet the people probably wasn’t a great idea,” Casey said at last.

  “And if we stay, that’ll eventually happen to us,” Cate said.

  “Then we get out,” Aimee said. “This lake, in here, must join up with the outside sea, somewhere, somehow.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.” Alex looked up from the instruments. “Maybe during king tides, or during quakes it opens and shuts, makes another vortex like the one we encountered in the sea. This thing slips out, grabs some more toys, and then comes home where it’s nice and warm, so it can play and eat in peace.”

  “This is its home, we are the intruders,” Soong added. “It has all the time on its side, and we have limited food, water, and breathable air.” She licked dry lips. “We cannot wait for an earthquake, or for the monster to return and pry us out of here.”

  The group was silent, but most nodded, agreeing with the Chinese scientist’s bleak assessment.

  Alex rubbed his stubbled chin. “Soong’s right.” He stopped in front of Aimee. “Aimee, anything we can use? Cate, c’mon, what can we use?”

  Aimee frowned, her eyes on the floor, remembering her experiences and research. “Cephalopods are learning creatures,” she said. “Every encounter with mankind it has had, it has learned more about us, what we are more or less likely to do, how we will react.” She looked up into Alex’s eyes. “Those boats out there, some are hundreds of years old. That means it, or its ancestors, has been doing this for centuries. It knows us, but all we know is that it’s voracious, aggressive, and smart. In the wild, this thing’s smaller cousins have all those characteristics, and are very territorial. This is its turf. Maybe if we can move it off its turf …” She shrugged, knowing it wasn’t much.

  “That’s right,” Cate said. “Orthocones were the alpha predator for millions of years. When most life in the oceans was tiny, these things were already thirty feet long. It can outrun us, outwait us, and certainly outlive us. We’re only alive because it doesn’t want us just yet.”

  “That fucker has got us right where it wants us,” Casey said, fists balled.

  “Then let’s get the hell out of here, or die trying.” Alex turned, opening the comm. to the torpedo room. “Rhino, load tubes one and two. Blake, it’s crash or crash through time. This lake is separated from the main sea by some sort of sea wall, and the creature has got to be using an opening in it. We need to find it.”

  “Excuse me.” Shenjung’s voice was almost apologetic. “But we could bring this entire place down on top of us. We have already seen that this type of rock is subject to fracturing.”

  Alex gave the Chinese scientist a flat smile. “And if we stay, we get eaten alive. Which is better?”

  “No, no, I agree, we must leave. But we may be able to use the fracturing to our advantage.”

  “Selective collapse of the geologic substructure,” Aimee said.

  Alex nodded. “Okay, good. Franks, anything outside?”

  “All clear on the scope.” Casey pulled her face back an inch. “What’s the plan, boss?”

  “Once we’re out, we find that sea vortex, and ride it out. If it’s within the depth capability of this submarine, we may just pop up outside. If not, we’re a crushed can on the bottom of a cold ocean.”

  “Maybe not,” Soong said. “If there is a vortex causing the water column to be in agitation, then the pressure might be bearable.” She turned to Shenjung. “I think this might work.”

  Shenjung nodded. “Yes, I see. We have observed that the properties of water molecules remain disparate the more the water is moving. Also warm water will be much less dense than the outside deeper, cold water.”

  “As long as we stay within the vortex column,” Cate said, “then pressure could be more benign … at least until it dissipates as the water slows.”

  “We stay in the vortex, we can make it. Best news I heard all day.” Casey grinned. “Nobody, but nobody back home is going to be able to top this.” She put her face back to the periscope visor once again, and her eyes went wide. “Oh fuck – incoming!”

  Alex pushed her aside and looked through the periscope. His expression became grim. “It’s on us.”

  *

  The submarine groaned, and then rocked. The slight angle the vessel was resting at suddenly was righted. The group stared straight ahead, arms out for balance, faces pale, waiting and listening. Alex grabbed a railing, looking up, sensing the monstrous weight bearing down on them.

  There came a horrendous scraping sound as the hull was drawn along rock – they were being moved, sideways.

  “Hang on!” Alex shouted. Someone screamed as metal popped and groaned around them. The submarine was designed to withstand enormous pressure, but pressure evenly distributed along its hull, and not pressing down in any one spot. It could buckle, or worse, split open.

  The torpedo room comm. came to life. “Standing by, boss. Just say the word,” Rhino yelled.

  “Water’s too shallow. We’ll just blow ourselves up,” Alex yelled back.

  The submarine scraped again, a painful, metallic, nails-on-chalkboard sound magnified a thousand times.

  “Fuck it.” Franks stepped back from the scope, the thing only half up. “It’s jammed.”

  Alex bared his teeth as more scraping sounded along the hull. “Can’t let it damage the props.” He held out his hand to Casey Franks. “Rifle.”

  “What?” Aimee looked momentarily horrified, but then she slumped, seem
ing to understand what he had to do. She nodded to him. “Save us.”

  Franks shook her head. “Boss, let me, sir. I’m dispensable.”

  “That’s an order!” Alex’s voice boomed in the small room.

  Franks looked like she was about to say more, but Aimee pulled on her brawny arm. “Let him go. Only he can do it; you know that.”

  Casey looked torn, but after another second ripped the rifle from her shoulder, her face furious. “Three rounds left.”

  Alex took it. “Seal the hatch after I’m gone, and be ready.” He half smiled. “If I get … separated, then do your best to get the hell out.”

  “Yeah,” Franks said. “Count on it. I’ll help you up.”

  Alex quickly headed down the steel corridor towards the hatch, and put one hand on the ladder railing. Franks waited silently beside him. He stared up the ladder, his sensitive hearing picking up the soft sliding weight moving above him. He felt the light touch of a hand on his shoulder, and Aimee turned him around.

  “Programmed for destruction.” She smiled softly.

  “I have to,” Alex said, not sure what else he could tell her.

  “I know. Jack Hammerson’s monster, Hammerson’s weapon of mass destruction, take your pick, but it’s what you were created for. You can’t escape it.” She dropped her hand.

  “You have to get out, for Joshua, and if I can give you even a small chance …” He sighed, feeling the pang in his chest, at all the wasted years without her.

  “Make it back. I’ll be here.” She went to turn, but stopped, and then just stared hard at him. “Was it real? Did we ever truly make it out of here before, or have we been trapped down here for the last five years, like O’Kane, in our own version of hell?”

  He smiled. “If you were here with me, how could that be hell?” He leaned forward to kiss her on the lips, but Aimee threw an arm around his neck, and pulled him close, kissing him back, hard.

  Alex smelled her, tasted her, and felt a moment of dizziness as if he was intoxicated – and perhaps he was. At that second, there was nowhere else he wanted to be, and no one else in the world he wanted with him. He had found her again, and that was all that mattered.