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Behemoth 2

Page 2

by Michael Cole


  However, the inevitable drive that was hunger soon brought new purpose. Not only did it need to replenish spent energy from swimming, the colder water temperatures sped up its metabolism. It used its sense of smell to detect blood in the water, and extended its two thin antennae, positioned near its nostrils, to scavenge for any stray sources of sustenance.

  Its hunt came to a brief halt. Its senses were overloaded with the presence of multiple objects in the water above it. One of which was immensely large, and its presence caused the creature to pause. Pores located in its rigid snout, Ampullae of Lorenzini, flooded its brain with the detection of electric movements from nearby. Then its nostrils flooded with a much-desired sensation…the smell of blood. Suddenly the ocean had become full of it.

  The creature turned upward toward the surface. The scent did not seem to point at any of the objects above; rather it seemed spread out, as if any one or all of the intruders were bleeding. Its eyes locked on the one most directly ahead. Then, it swiped its tail, generating the massive speed of its genetic parent, the Mako. It did not yet bare its jaws, as it would ram its target like a torpedo to stun it. Afterwards, it would tear away flesh.

  The distance closed. Its eyes rolled backward, covered by an eyelid that acted like a protective shield.

  ********

  Salkil’s heartbeat felt like a shutter as the depth reading changed on the monitor. A moment ago, the target was fifty meters deep. In less than an instant it was thirty meters…twenty. Logan saw the change of expression in Salkil’s face. It was no subtle twitch. His eyes had opened wide, and his jaw dropped ever so slightly, in a way that expressed alarm. In that same moment, the Colonel propped the microphone to his mouth.

  “Boating units, use evasive maneuvers! Target ascending!”

  Only the first half of Salkil’s transmission came through, as all eyes went to the most easterly boat. Hendricks looked to his left, and watched the enormous eruption of water. Impacted from an overwhelming force from underneath, the boat lifted several feet and flipped in mid air. All three sailors aboard, mentally stunned by the surprise and physically stunned by the impact, were flung from the twisting craft. Transmissions quickly filled the radio waves.

  “Unit Two, come in!”

  “What in the hell was that?”

  “Units One and Three, respond to Unit Two’s position!”

  “Viper Four has a visual on the target! It’s…What is th…”

  Lt. Hendricks didn’t waste time waiting for orders. As soon as he saw the surge, he redirected the craft in its direction. Water splashed his face as the bow sliced the surface. The wind kicked up and tugged at his uniform. He slid protective goggles over his eyes to protect against the dreaded salt water sting. The other sailors on his boat did not need to be told to seal the chum tub and take position. Corporal Meyer stood at the Fifty-Cal., while Dunn placed the strap of his M4 over his shoulder, and stood ready to haul in the men overboard. After only a few short seconds, they had closed the gap. Unit Three was close behind.

  The black bow of the Unit Two Zodiac pointed upward. Though the boat was mostly submerged, Hendricks was able to identify some of the damage. The solid hull was breached, and the starboard inflatable tube had completely ruptured. The other tube seemed to be currently losing air as well. Splashing in the water beside it were two sailors. No sign of the third. Hendricks pulled the boat alongside them. His teammate on the side reached down, grabbed the nearest sailor by the wrist, and pulled him upward. Corporal Meyer scanned the water with the sights of the machine gun. Soaking wet, exhausted, and still staggered by the sudden impact, the sailor collapsed to the flooring. The second man overboard swam toward them.

  “Where’s the third guy?” Hendricks said.

  “I don’t know…” the exhausted sailor said, spitting water onto the floor. “I’m not even sure what happened. It’s like we were hit by a semi-trailer.” Hendricks snatched up the radio.

  “Viper Four! You said you had a visual? Where is it?”

  “We’ve lost sight. It dove. The reading shows…hang on…wait…it’s coming back up.”

  Dunn leaned far out over the gunwale for the other sailor, who reached back. They locked hands, and Dunn shut his eyes for a moment as his muscles contracted with the upward pull. He opened them, just in time to see the red shape emerging behind the sailor. A massive set of jaws opened, baring rows of jagged white teeth. The sailor saw nothing but the darkness that overtook him as he disappeared into the creature’s mouth. The jaws clamped down right onto Dunn’s forearm. Teeth seared his flesh and grazed his bone. What was left became lodged in the closed jaws. The monster dove with its prey, dragging Dunn over the gunwale.

  There was no time for Hendricks to save the Private. He only heard a loud splash, followed by a brief shriek. By the time Hendricks turned, Dunn was already overboard, and a red triangular fin cut the water before diving. In the moments that followed, the ocean around him turned dark red.

  “Son-of-a-bitch!” he shouted. “Meyer! Point that thing over and put the hurt on this thing!”

  “Sir? Private Dunn is still…”

  “Dunn’s dead,” Hendricks said. He picked up the radio. “We have men down. Does anyone up there have a visual on the thing?” Suddenly the boat shook with the rapid shutter of the fifty-cal. Meyer clenched his teeth as he fired a stream of bullets at the oncoming swell of water that approached. Beneath that grayish water was the red shape of the creature. The fin emerged, as if taunting.

  Empty cartridges peppered the bow. In the few seconds in which the creature approached, Meyer had unloaded fifty bullets onto its hide. Each one was as useless as the next, crushed against the solid exoskeleton. Rapid fire from the third Zodiac struck the beast all along the side of its body.

  The creature’s eyes went black with the protective lids that peeled over. Its nose struck the bow. Tremor of impact shook the Zodiac. Meyer fell to his knees, still clinging to the weapon. Hendricks fell forward against the console. Machine gun fire from the other boat ceased to avoid friendly fire. For the briefest of moments, it seemed that the shark had dived once again. That moment was quick to end as the boat shuddered a second time. Hendricks pulled himself to his feet and attempted to operate the controls. He put the boat in reverse. The engine moaned, and the propellers twisted, but the boat failed to backtrack. Then there was a loud burst, followed by a sizzling sound. Propping himself up, he looked ahead of the bow. The shark’s red body twisted and turned. With each motion, it shook the boat. Clenched in its jaws was a mouthful of the inflatable tube. He snatched up the radio.

  “Unit Two, smoke this son-of-a-bitch!” Luckily, there was no argument regarding him being in the line of fire. The sailor at the 50 Cal. depressed the trigger. Bullets zipped through the air, momentarily visible as bright yellow streaks. They pelted the side of the shark. Though they inflicted no damage, they were successful in acquiring its attention.

  Sensing the presence of another attacker, the creature released its grasp on the ‘wounded’ opponent. In a single quick motion, the shark whipped its body around to turn toward the other boat. And in that same motion, it swung its tail to generate a burst of speed.

  Just before it did so, Meyer squeezed on the trigger, sending a haze of bullets down at it. Bullets tore at the water around it. The swinging tail smashed hard against the steel hull. The Zodiac rolled in the water. As it did, the machine gun pointed toward the sky, bullets still discharging from the barrel.

  “Jesus!” Riggs said as bullets struck near the cockpit. The pounding sound of metal echoed through the aircraft, as if someone was pressing a jackhammer to the hull. Emergency warning lights flashed. He pulled back hard on the controls.

  Colonel Salkil grabbed his seat as the chopper banked hard. It tilted to the right and dipped suddenly. As it did so, the pilots briefly lost control. The chopper fishtailed. The rotating tail blades sliced air vertically and horizontally during multiple complete spins. Even through the sound of the twin turbine
engines, rotator blades, and warning beeps, he could hear the sharp slicing sound of bullets as they passed by. Logan braced himself against the door as the chopper descended. The other soldier, caught off guard, lost his footing. He fell backward, only to be supported by Colonel Salkil, who reached out and grabbed him by the uniform while still seated. Amazed by the immense strength the Colonel possessed, the soldier gave a quick salute as a thank you, and regained his footing.

  The chopper leveled out. Riggs and Sherman both went over the systems and readings to assess the damage. During this time, the radio was still blaring with alarmed voices of Navy personnel as the conflict ensued.

  “Viper Three, Status Report!”

  “Unit One is capsized.”

  “Dispatching rescue units. Unit Two, report status.”

  Hendricks filled his lungs with air as his life vest pulled him to the surface. He looked around to gain his bearings. He was immediately drawn to the sound of gunfire from the remaining Zodiac behind him. It had ceased as he turned around. The boat was a dozen yards or so away. His first instinct was to swim to it, but a glance at the sailors gave him pause. He watched their eyes and the barrels of their rifles. Each were pointed at the water, scanning the immediate area near their boat, meaning the creature had either already attacked them, or could be circling.

  Self preservation took over. Hendricks reached to his thigh holster and snatched his waterproof Sig Sauer P226 and scanned the water. To his left, the starboard side of his Zodiac floated. Floating several feet from what he believed to be the stern of the craft, was Meyer, face down in the water. Hendricks spat bitter salt water from his mouth as he paddled toward the Lieutenant. Meyer bobbed in the water, with little swells splashing against his vest.

  “Meyer!” Hendricks called out. There was no answer. Meyer drifted motionless, his head pointing toward the Lieutenant. Hendricks arrived and grabbed him by the vest. “Hey, Mac!” He lifted to turn Meyer over. The Corporal’s face was frozen in a horrified expression: jaw slack, eyes open, one wider than the other. His skin was pale white, as if all the blood had been drained. Hendricks moved him to check his vitals. With uneven weight, Meyer dunked and rolled over, and his waist emerged over the water.

  Below the waist was nothing but a string of entrails.

  Hendricks shrieked and pushed himself away from his brother-in-arms, who had been bitten in two. Machine gun fire drew his attention back to the other Zodiac. He searched for the fin near the vessel, until he realized the .50 Cal. was aimed several yards off. Just as he measured the location of the weapon’s aim, he heard the sailors call out for him.

  “Look out!”

  Hendricks saw the swell, then the fin. The head emerged, like a giant red cone. Then the mouth opened, like the compartment door to a landing craft, only this one was lined with three-inch teeth. Hendricks kicked his feet and paddled his one free arm, while pointing his Sig Sauer at the oncoming beast. He only managed to fire off two quick shots before the creature passed over. The swell had nearly bounced him out of the way, save for his wielding arm. The jaws closed down, and the creature’s tail thrashed to pull away.

  In a single instant, Hendricks felt the multiple, but individually unique sensations of tearing flesh, twisting bones, snapping tendons, and searing cartilage as his arm was torn off by the roots. Blood filled the water around him. The shark glided along the surface, swallowing the stolen appendage. It turned toward the remaining enemy.

  The sailor at the .50 Cal. yelled as he fired the weapon at the approaching monster. The other two shouldered their M4s and started blasting away, shocked and confused that their weapons had no effect on the strange creature. The red shark moved in like a guided missile and slammed into the starboard hull. It did not stop nor slow down. Like a relentless force of nature, it passed through. The boat flipped, sending all hands into the water.

  The cold temperatures numbed the immense wound where Hendricks’ arm used to be. As consciousness faded, he could hear the screams from the other Navy men as the beast slaughtered them one-by-one.

  “It took out Unit Two!” a voice called out over the radio. Riggs and Sherman had just leveled out the helicopter, just in time to witness the horrific event unfold beneath them. The red fin could be seen below, cutting away at the water as the shark sped away in an easterly direction. It quickly dove beneath the waves.

  Salkil emerged through the doorway between the cabin and the cockpit.

  “Get after it!” he barked. Sherman, still stone-faced, looked up at him.

  “Sir, we have a fuel leakage, and possible rotor damage,” he said. “It’s best we land on the Freedom, and allow the other units to…”

  “I said get after it, goddamnit!” the Colonel yelled. He then grabbed a radio extender. “All airborne units, pursue the target!”

  “Sir, we have men in the water,” one of the other pilots said.

  “You have your orders, now move!” He slammed the radio down and moved back into the cabin. Riggs shook his head in discontent and adjusted the controls. The radio blared with transmissions from the Admiral.

  “Colonel Salkil! What the hell is this thing?!... Colonel?... COLONEL!”

  The engine groaned, and warning lights flashed as he pushed the chopper forward. Riggs gave a quick glance at the Lieutenant, whose stone face was now tense with a foreboding dread.

  The Seahawk hauled after the fleeing shark, followed by the two support units.

  CHAPTER

  2

  The wind kicked up, and the ash colored clouds above turned a darker shade. Inside the Seahawk, red lights blinked on and off. A hydraulic alert came on, along with an engine pressure warning. Riggs’ eyes repeatedly glanced down at the alerts on the console. Both he and Sherman believed a bullet penetrated the exterior of one of the engines. This was further evidenced by a small stream of smoke that trailed their chopper. They switched off the overhead warning light, which only served as a nuisance at this point.

  To Salkil, these problems paled in comparison to the tracking device. Moments after the creature had engaged the Zodiacs and fled, the signal failed and the creature disappeared off the tracking monitor. The radar had difficulty tracking it as well, possibly due to changing depths. Logan could feel the frustration brewing within the Colonel. He stayed silent, ready at the M60 as instructed. Above him, a cloud of smoke billowed. It had gradually thickened as they continued the chase.

  “Viper Five to Viper Three. Condition of your engine appears to be worsening. Must advise for you to turn back and reconvene at the Freedom.”

  Salkil spoke into the microphone, “We’re resuming pursuit.” Riggs leaned to the side to call through the opening. Normally, he’d speak over the radio, but there was no sense in having the other units overhearing the conversation.

  “Colonel, sir…if our condition worsens, we may need to make an emergency landing. And begging your pardon, sir, but we have nowhere to land. The other two units can continue pursuit.” By the time he finished, Salkil had emerged through the opening.

  “We are going after that thing and seeing through the mission.” Riggs reactively flinched as the Colonel raised his voice. Most other people wouldn’t get under his skin so easily, but this was a Colonel, and an authoritative one who could easily dampen his military career. He knew best to shut up and keep flying.

  Several long minutes passed, and the pilots adjusted their direction based on the infrequent blips on the radar screen. The creature was still on the run and did not appear to be slowing down. Salkil tried to adjust the signal from the tracking monitor.

  “Those bastards had all this technology to build a lab and create these things, but couldn’t manage to create a decent tracking device,” he growled. It was likely the device suffered further damage during its encounter with the Zodiacs. Once again, a voice blared over the radio.

  “Viper Three, I must insist that …”

  “Understood!” Salkil cut him off. At that moment, Sherman spoke into the radio.
<
br />   “Sir, when we get a positive ID on the target, how do you propose we eliminate it?”

  “If it’s near the surface, I want everyone to lay some hellfire missiles into it,” Salkil said. “I want the bastard vaporized.”

  Sherman replied with a simple, “Copy.” Twenty minutes ago, the order would’ve seemed absurd. However, it was clear that this was no ordinary shark. More to the point, it was something that the Colonel wanted to keep under wraps.

  The chase ensued further out into the Atlantic. Finally, as the pilots watched the surface, the undeniable red shape emerged.

  “Colonel, we have a visual,” Sherman said through the comm. “Target is surfaced…appears to have reduced speed.” Salkil stepped into the cockpit. He looked down at the hybrid experiment with a feeling of disdain, but simultaneous satisfaction. In a few moments time, it could all be over.

  “Perfect opportunity,” he said. “Rain hell on the bastard right now.” Riggs and Sherman began activating the weapons system. They positioned the damaged Seahawk to fire all four hellfire missiles.

  At this moment, Sherman noticed a new reading on the radar monitor. Something was approaching from the northeast. He scanned the horizon. In the grayish reflective ocean, he could see the sparkling white hull of a sailing yacht unknowingly approaching the kill zone. His eyes returned to the shark.

  In the blink of an eye, it changed direction and gained speed. Its pointed head, like an arrow, was pointed directly at the approaching yacht. Salkil saw this as well. With binoculars raised to eye level, he quickly scanned the side of the oncoming vessel, reading the name printed on the hull.

  “K. McKartney,” Sakil said the name to his pilots. Sherman grabbed the radio unit and changed the channel to a civilian frequency.

  “This is Lieutenant Sherman of the United States Navy, calling civilian yacht K. McKartney. Please redirect your course immediately. You are entering a dangerous area.”

 

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