Behemoth 2

by Michael Cole

  ********

  Nelson sped his police vehicle down to the docks, where the harbor patrol boats were located. With the intense speed in which he drove, along with the flashing lights, pedestrians and passing drivers grew concerned that a major crime was in progress. It was that level of intensity that Nelson was feeling at the moment.

  His tires kicked up gravel as he pulled to a stop. He exited the truck, leaving it parked crooked in a space, and rushed to the small police outpost near the docks. Inside were two officers, one assigned there to issue keys, another there to visit. Nelson recognized the officer as Charles Beck, a new recruit fresh off his training period. Beck looked at him, appearing guilty as if he was caught socializing on the job.

  “Get me a key,” Nelson spoke to the desk officer. The officer didn’t waste any time, and quickly pulled a key from the locked cabinet. Nelson took it and turned to Beck. “Good thing you’re here. You’re coming with me.” He went around the desk to a small locked room. He opened it, revealing a small armory for the boats. He grabbed a Mossberg shotgun and gave it to Beck.

  “What’s going on, sir?” he asked while checking the chamber.

  “We’re going to get someone,” Nelson said, grabbing a Carbine Rifle and inserting a magazine loaded with 5.56mm rounds.

  “A suspect?”

  “No,” Nelson grabbed another shotgun and started out the door, “just someone doing something really stupid.” The two of them boarded the police vessel. Nelson ignored the routine inspection required prior to taking a boat out, only taking time to make sure it had a tow line. He started the engine and steered the vessel out. As soon as he cleared the harbor, he throttled to top speed and steered toward the north. He felt along his belt for his handcuffs. The feel of the metal rings gave him a bitter trepidation. The young officer stood at the starboard railing, feeling the wind rushing through his hair.

  “Sir, may I ask what the concern is?” he asked. Nelson almost didn’t want to say anything, believing he would just sound foolish, but the officer deserved to know.

  “We’ve got something big out there…” he started to explain.

  ********

  Forster threw another scoopful of chum out. So far, only a few small sharks came to nip at the trail. She studied the monitor again. The blip seemed to hardly move at all. It was a red flag for her, as it was unnatural activity even for a normal shark. While she knew this creature wasn’t any normal shark, she was able to see its gill slits in the video footage, and found it likely that it needed to continuously move to stay alive. The blip had remained in the same general location for the half hour she had been chumming.

  She dropped the scoop and went to the monitor, punching a few notes in the keyboard. A reader came up, which gave information regarding the subject such as depth, speed, and exact location. Depth read 0 Feet, and speed listed 0 MPH. With the signal being within view, Forster quickly grabbed a pair of binoculars and scanned the water. A red creature on a clear sunny day should be easy to spot along the surface. However, she saw nothing but blue.

  “Shit,” she said to herself. It was a delicate situation. She needed to know for sure if the creature was actually there. She stepped to the helm, then hesitated for a moment while considering the danger of drawing close to it.

  Then again, this whole thing is already risky to begin with. She throttled the boat slowly, while keeping an eye on the screen. As before, the blip remained in place. As she drew near, she looked for any sign of the creature. Nothing. The water seemed empty, which it almost was anyway because of the toxic effects from the pollution dumping.

  A bubbly stream of frothy white directly ahead caught her attention. She adjusted the boat’s direction and stopped alongside it. She stepped out onto the deck and looked down to examine the strange substance. It was a stringy stream of foam, roughly ten feet long, with tiny bits of meaty residue caught within it. After a minute of studying it, Forster saw something yellow and rigid under a layer of foam. She grabbed a pole and jabbed it into the substance, clearing it away. The yellow tracking tag floated in clear water for only a few seconds before the froth closed in on it again. Forster was too late. The creature had already regurgitated the non-digestible device.

  “Goddamnit!” she cursed, and threw the pole down hard on the deck. It bounced up and splintered before settling down. After it did, she kicked it again, sending it crashing into the hydraulic lift. Forster allowed herself to cool down, and not let her temper get the better of her. She took a breath and began to think rationally. She thought of starting again with the chumming, and hope the creature was still nearby. It was the least she could do at that point. However, thinking of this was just a reminder of how difficult it would likely be to find it again; especially after considering the fact that the tag had likely been regurgitated for at least a half hour. The feeling of defeat sank in. The high she had experienced while tracking the creature came crashing down, and now she felt she was back at her normal low point.

  The sounds of a screeching siren in the distance drew her attention to the south. The sight of red and blue flashers drawing nearer to her boat brought the realization that her low point just got lower.

  Nelson shook his head in disappointment when he saw Forster standing on the deck. The young officer stood at the stern, keeping watch for the creature which Nelson had described to him. It was hard to believe such a thing was real, but as long as he was in the Chief’s presence, Beck was going to treat it as if it was.

  “You want me to board the boat, Chief?” he asked.

  “No, not yet,” Nelson said. “I’ll do the talking.” He pulled the boat next to the Fairbanks, splashing away the froth. A feeling of anxiety coursed through Forster, and it swiftly worsened after locking eyes with the Chief. She thought the looks of irritation a few nights ago at the bar were bad. After seeing him now, she found herself wholly wishing for that look again, as this one was much worse. Without words, she already knew what he was thinking.

  Then came the words.

  “What in God’s name are you doing out here?!” he questioned. It took all of his strength to not yell. Forster knew he wouldn’t like any answer she had. She quickly tried to think of which explanation to give; scientific discovery, pressure from Felt, or trying to live up to the hopes her late father had.

  “Chief, listen,” she said. “I…”

  “No, you listen!” Nelson said. “I ordered all island residents to remain off the water for a reason.” He reached across and grabbed the side of the Fairbanks. Lifting one leg over the side, he carefully crossed over. Standing on deck of the Fairbanks, he brushed some dust from his pants before returning his attention to Forster. “Jesus Christ, Julie. I figured I would have to chase after a few boaters. Maybe a fisherman or two, but I never thought you’d be the one I’d be trying to keep off the water.” He then looked around, examining Forster’s setup. He noticed the shark, with the hook and syringes. “THIS…is your brilliant plan? What the hell, Julie! Are you trying to get yourself killed? What about the time off you were going to take?”

  Nelson’s anger further dug in the realization that Forster made a poor, selfish decision. Like antibodies to a virus, her mind dug through the rationalizations. She believed she was right to be out.

  “Tell me, Chief,” she said. “What were you planning to do about this thing? You wanted a consultant, but you never asked me.”

  “Give me a break! Have you looked in a mirror lately? You’re exhausted, plus you were just in the hospital!”

  “Let me guess,” Forster said. “Whoever you contacted, denied you a consultant.” Nelson felt foolish for taking the bait, which locked him into an argument that he didn’t have time for. He felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. It was the third time in the past ten minutes, and he knew it was the Mayor wanting to know why he wasn’t at the press conference.

  “That’s beside the point,” he said, growing more irritated with each vibration. Forster crossed her arms.

  “W
hat was your plan then? Just sit around and hope for this thing to go away?”

  “The first thing for me to do is ensure safety! To do that, I have to enforce laws, such as the one you’re currently violating,” he said. Realizing she wasn’t getting the better of him, Forster uncrossed her arms. The confidence she briefly felt had quickly slipped away. There was a long moment of silence. Forster tried thinking of a way out of her predicament, only to come up short.

  “Chief, I just…”

  “Stop talking,” Nelson barked. He turned, briefly looking into the water, then turned toward her again. “I’m so pissed right now Julie, that you put me in this situation.” He took a breath, then pointed at her and moved his hand in a slight circular motion. “Turn around, put your hands behind your back.”

  Those words nearly triggered a physical response from her, as if she was punched in the gut. Forster’s mind felt as if it was moving a hundred miles an hour. She wanted so badly to plead her case, but knew it would do no good. Anything from here would just make the situation worse.

  Forster turned, and locked her arms behind her back. She felt the cold metal from the cuffs compress her wrists, and for the second time in her life, she listened to the Miranda rights. After Nelson was done, he guided her to the hydraulic table.

  “So, you want me to drive this boat in, or are we gonna have to tow it?”

  “Keys are in the ignition,” she said. She spoke softly, as if each word carried her shame. Nelson helped her take a seat on the lift and then walked back to the side. Beck waited on the police vessel. A rookie on the force, he was slightly disappointed he didn’t get to put on the cuffs, as he had yet to make an arrest.

  “You okay with driving that thing back?” Nelson asked.

  “Not a problem, sir,” Beck responded.

  “When you get there, take a patrol car and pick us up at the resort,” Nelson said. Beck gave a casual, two finger salute and moved to the helm. Nelson examined the console for the maintenance boat, which was a slightly different design from what he was used to. Both officers throttled forward and created a bit of distance between the boats. They turned toward land and traveled parallel for the time being.

  Forster sat silently, watching the water swirl from the distortion. The peaceful blue did little to soothe her sickened feeling. Looking at her set up, while feeling the sensation of metal on her wrists, she thought of how her pride had gotten the better of her. Luckily, this would likely only result in a few nights in jail. Certainly, no prison time. However, she felt even more like a failure. She had just one opportunity to make a name for herself, and live up to her dreams, and yet she failed. Knowing that was worse than any jail sentence.

  Then, there it was. Out of the corner of her eye, the red shape came into view. It was a few feet under the surface, with its dorsal fin just shy of grazing the surface. But it was unmistakable. It trailed behind the police vessel, gathering speed and drawing close. Her eyes went to Officer Beck, who drove the boat unsuspectingly.

  “Chief?” Forster said. Just as she spoke, the creature dipped down from view. Nelson glanced back at her, saying nothing, and returned his attention to the path ahead. Forster stood up from the table and carefully watched the water. Though there was no sight of it, she could feel its presence. “Chief?”

  “Not now,” Nelson said. Forster felt her pulse throbbing in her temple. Not being able to see the creature only worsened the anxiety. She looked behind the Fairbanks, then around the starboard side, trying to see if the creature had directed its pursuit toward them instead. But there was nothing, so it seemed.

  She looked back to the police vessel. She screamed.

  “LOOK OUT!”

  The hybrid soared through the water at a slight upward angle. Its head, red and armored, connected with the stern.

  Beck had just heard the scream when the boat kicked up. It was a similar sensation to what he felt when his car was rear ended on his way to college years back. Only, this was fifty times worse. The boat moved into a tailspin, as if he was driving on ice. The bow chipped the side of the Fairbanks, sending a tremor coursing through the entire boat. After a complete turn, the resistance from the water brought the spin to a stop.

  Nelson slowed the Fairbanks and turned toward the patrol boat. Forster stood at the side, looking for the creature to reappear.

  “It’s here,” she said.

  “Nick? You all right, kid?” Nelson shouted to the officer. Beck tried throttling the boat again. It moved, but swerved heavily to port.

  “Shit,” Beck cursed to himself. He looked to the Chief, who approached on the Fairbanks. “I think one of the propellers is broken!” The Fairbanks pulled up alongside.

  “Toss me a shotgun, and move on over,” Nelson said. Beck already had one of the guns in hand. He tossed it to Nelson, who caught it by the barrel and quickly positioned it against his shoulder. Beck grabbed the other shotgun, then began to reach for the Fairbanks. Nelson scanned the water with his weapon, looking for the devil-red leviathan to emerge. And it did, only much more swiftly than even Nelson had anticipated.

  A huge splash preceded the creature as it darted between the boats. It hit both vessels at once, separating them from each other like bowling pins. Water crashed against the Fairbank’s hull as it rotated. Nelson removed his finger from the trigger, and clung to the side as the boat rocked violently. Beck fell backwards onto the deck of the police boat, but not before losing his shotgun to the thrashing waves.

  “Get me out of these cuffs,” Forster said to Nelson, who managed to steady himself. He looked at her, then looked back to the water. The fin emerged. He aimed the shotgun and followed the path of the shark. It passed around the other side of the police vessel, rendering Nelson unable to shoot it.

  “Beck! Shoot the damn thing!” he yelled out. The officer rolled to his hands and feet and crawled to the console, which was where the rifle was located. He snatched it up and positioned himself to his feet. He shouldered the weapon and put the shark in the sights. There was a brief moment of disbelief as he laid eyes on the creature, which was a few feet larger than his own boat.

  “Shoot it!” he heard Nelson yell. Beck squeezed the trigger, firing off seven rounds in rapid semi-auto succession. Each bullet found their mark, only to crush against the shell. The shark dipped below the surface once again. The thrashing waves slowly calmed themselves. Beck stood, ready and waiting for it to reemerge, while completely unaware that he inflicted no damage.

  On the Fairbanks, Forster marched over to Nelson, “Dammit, Chief, get these cuffs off, and I can drive the damn boat!” Nelson almost ignored her, but finally realized he needed the extra pair of hands. He placed the shotgun down and quickly uncuffed Forster.

  “This is why I wanted the waters clear!” he said. The cuffs fell from her wrists. Nelson snatched the shotgun back up and yelled to Beck. “Grab the wheel and take us over to him!” Without hesitation, Forster did as ordered. She turned the Fairbanks to starboard.

  The hybrid had finished toying with the two inedible organisms. It continued its rapid descent, until the water around it had turned completely dark. The creature stopped, then swiftly angled back toward the surface. With each swipe of its tail, it increased its speed. Like a surface to air rocket, it closed the distance between the dark depths and bright surface in a mere few seconds, coming up directly underneath Beck’s boat.

  The middle portion of the patrol boat lifted, as the stern and bow were still touching the water. Both ends of the halves were separated, as the hybrid emerged from between them. Airborne, it opened its eyes to view the world above the one it lived within. It saw the two fleshy lifeforms onboard the other vessel, fueling its desire to ravage further. It fell back into the water, spewing bits of hull from the sides of its mouth. Bits of debris peppered the area. Forster dropped to her knees as fragments of metal pounded the console.

  The impact flung Beck into the water, skipping him like a stone until he settled several feet from the two halve
s of his boat. The stern and bow both tilted upward before filling with water and sinking beneath the waves. Accidentally swallowing a mouthful of salt water, he began to gag, spitting some of it up in the process. Though disoriented, he could see the maintenance boat and frantically paddled towards it.

  Forster closed the distance, coming to a full stop as the bow had just begun to pass him. The momentum brought the stern close to Beck, who paddled toward it. Nelson reached down, nearly touching the water to grab the rookie’s hand.

  “Come on, you’re almost there!” he shouted. Beck reached, and luckily managed to secure a grasp on the first try. Nelson gritted his teeth as he struggled to pull the slightly overweight officer over the side. Beck groaned as his stomach pressed against the gunwale, while his feet dangled over the water.

  The hybrid had searched around the wreckage, looking for the edible inhabitant that had occupied it. Multiple moving bits of machinery sent all sorts of distorted messages to its Ampullae of Lorenzini. Finally, it sensed a familiar rhythm: a rapid heartbeat. It swam around the patrol boat’s submerged stern and spotted the target near the other vessel. It immediately moved in for the kill, though realizing the target had been hauled out of the water. This didn’t stop the creature from achieving its goal.

  It burst from the water. Its head smashed through the gunwale in a flurry of airborne debris. The impact threw both Nelson and Beck to the deck. Nelson ended up against the portside wall, while Beck landed directly on his back, hitting the back of his head. The boat leaned heavily to starboard, as the shark weighed down on the side. Forster yelled in fright. Never had she even heard of such an aggressive shark. Even more amazing, it didn’t slide back into the water despite the boat leaning heavily to starboard. It seemed to ‘cling’ to the side.