Behemoth 2

by Michael Cole

  Hugging the little boy tightly, Forster cleared the deck. She knelt to put him down, and he quickly ran to his parents, who tearfully embraced him. Security officers set up physical barriers to help keep the crowd back. The gathering split up as a white maintenance truck drove toward the event. In the bed was the carcass of a goliath grouper. They parked and left the engine running while they rushed out to unload the large dead fish. Forster looked back to the water, only able to see the water thrashing about. It almost appeared as though a whirlpool was forming while the beast rampaged. She then looked to the security guards, looking for the supervisor on duty. She spotted the white uniform shirt, which contrasted from the blue ones his subordinates wore. She signaled to him with her hand, and he approached.

  “What’s the action plan here?” he asked.

  “Could you call the aides on the top floor and tell them to bring my sedation supplies,” she said. The supervisor quickly got on his radio and switched the frequencies to call the aides. Forster started walking toward the truck. One of the maintenance men met her along the way.

  “We got what you asked,” he said. “You think it’ll be enough?”

  “We can only hope at this point,” Forster said. “I’m gonna pump it full of tranquilizer, and then just hope that it’ll eat it, and then hope we’ll be able to keep the thing under control until it sets in. Unfortunately, there’s a lot of hoping in this plan.”

  She wished she could inject it in the mouth with another hypodermic needle, which would cause an immediate effect, but knew it would be an impossible task. There was no way she could get anywhere near it. Even previously on the boat, she barely managed to successfully implant the needle without ending up in its jaws.

  Forster turned around, hearing somebody shouting over the crowd to let them through. She hurried to meet the approaching person, believing one of the aides was bringing her the vials of tranquilizer. People made way, and suddenly William Felt emerged from the crowd. He took a moment to catch his breath and straighten his tie. Despite the urgency of the situation, he seemed calm and collected, much like the enthusiastic businessman he was when he first hired her. He had his normal color back to his face and didn’t smell of sweat. The only thing resembling urgency was his confusion regarding the current situation.

  “What’s going on?” he said. Forster glared at him.

  Are you serious? She swallowed hard, trying not to lose her temper with him. After all, as she constantly reminded herself, he is her boss…and the only person who would hire her. Only to exploit my record; ignore my advice; break the law; deliberately risk lives of employees…and now visitors…

  Her reserve dissolved.

  “I warned you about this!” she shouted at him. “I told you we might not be able to contain this thing, and…” she looked over to the bay as the roller coaster fell down its slope, creating the same loud vibration it always did. At that same moment, another splash erupted from the water as the hybrid broke into another frenzy. It was as if the ride was deliberately trying to make her point. “You see that? All the vibrations and echoes, the sight and sounds of the people as they gather at it. And having the lights on downstairs, where it can see the people through the glass…”

  “What’s your point?” Felt said, seemingly unfazed by her criticisms.

  “I advise you to do something, you do the goddamn opposite!” Forster said. Suddenly, another person emerged from the crowd. This individual almost resembled a work-study, wearing khaki shorts, a white button shirt, and glasses. She noticed the VIP tag on him, and PHD in the text with his name, Glenn Tucker. He was not the same VIP as the other person she directed off of the hydraulic lift. “And who are these guys?” she said. Felt looked at the VIP, realizing who she was referring to, then glared at her. Forster realized the answer for herself. “The researchers from the universities,” she said aloud to herself. “What the hell were they doing with the shark?”

  “We were testing its reflexes, by sending mild electrical impulses into the water,” the VIP spoke up. “We were just studying responsiveness to stimuli.”

  “Oh really?” Forster pointed to the pen. “There, you have your answer, genius.” She looked back to Felt. “Will? What are you thinking, letting these guys do this in broad daylight, with everyone around?”

  “People found it interesting,” Felt said. “Besides, you’ve been sedating it with each meal. I thought it’d be fine.”

  “Are you seriously that dense?” she said. “I’ve told you this thing has a resistance to sedation, and yet again you ignore me, and look what’s happening.” She turned her head as the echo from another metallic crunch filled the air. It was coming from the steel doors, and the creaking of gears confirmed her fear. The beast had figured out that the barrier led to the open ocean.

  The warning she received yesterday suddenly resonated in her mind: Do not let it survive. Words spoken by someone wise enough to know this creature was bred to kill. And if it succeeded in its escape, killing is what it would do.

  “Oh no,” she said. She pulled her phone from her pocket. Felt noticed her scrolling through the contact list.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “The Chief,” she said. “I’m sorry, but we’re gonna have to put this thing down.”

  “Excuse me?” Felt said, walking around to face her directly. His relaxed posture was gone, and he was now very tense. The VIP biologist rapidly approached as well.

  “You can’t be serious!”

  “You bet I am!” Forster said. Both of them looked as if they would attempt to snatch her phone, leading her to instinctively step back.

  “This thing is an evolutionary marvel!” Dr. Tucker said. “For Pete’s sake, you captured it yourself! There’s no way you’re killing it.”

  “It’s a monster!” Forster yelled at him. “It’s no marvel, it’s no miracle; it’s a killing machine…made from…” she stopped herself. She remembered the other warning. Don’t tell anyone. Expressing knowledge of how this creature existed would do nothing but make herself, and anyone she told, a target for the government.

  Felt lifted a finger to her face. Not physically threatening, but making a point. “Listen, Julie, this is MY park, and I own everything here! You want to leave, go ahead. Go back to being unemployable, like you were when I found you. That’s exactly what’ll happen if you dial that number.”

  The consequences flashed in her mind’s eye. No doubt doing this would cost her any future she had. Not only with her past history, but with the new knowledge that she tried to destroy a “new species.” The world of science wasn’t aware of the true reality of the hybrid, and because of that, destroying it would be considered sacrilegious. In addition to that, Felt would undoubtedly blacklist her for destroying his new attraction. It’d be difficult even to get a job at a coffee stand.

  She took a breath, letting everything sink in. Her eyes went from her phone, to Felt. His tense look slowly started to retract, as he could sense the conflict within her. He knew what mark to hit. After all, that was the reason he specifically hired her. Someone with limited options was much easier to control. He felt certain she was back under his spell.

  “Fuck yourself,” Forster said, and sent the call. Felt’s expression turned to one of surprise and anger, as did the marine biologist, who instinctively lashed out to snatch her phone. Forster predicted this action and sidestepped. Dr. Tucker’s reach missed entirely. Forster pointed at him. “Don’t even try it,” she said, while silently praying for Nelson to answer the call. Finally, on the forth ring, he picked up.

  “Julie?” he said. Felt could hear his voice. He stepped toward her and pointed a finger for the second time, this time prodding it into her shoulder.

  “I swear, you tell him to come over here and I’ll…FUCKING BITCH!” He cried out as his finger bent backward at the knuckle. He dropped to his knees, pulling his hand away after Forster released her grip on his busted finger.

  “Julie, what the hell’s going on?
”

  “Chief,” she said, keeping the VIP at bay. He gave up his aggressive stance, and stood near Felt, who was still on his knees in pain. “We need your help! The shark…it’s out of control! We need to kill it…bring…” Hundreds of screams filled the air, and the crowd suddenly broke apart as people fled in panic. Forster looked to the pen, seeing the creature emerging. Its lower jaw smashed down on the guardrail, flattening it completely onto the cement. Clawed legs dug into the pavement as it attempted to pull itself ashore. It was aware of the fresh meat above and was successfully heaving itself onto dry land. Even Felt stood up and backed away. Halfway over the ledge, the creature’s second pair of legs started to get a grasp.

  By now, Felt had taken off running. Right behind him was Dr. Tucker.

  “I’m on my way!” Nelson said, able to hear the chaos unfold. Forster heard him, but didn’t answer. He wouldn’t get there in time. She thought for quick solutions.

  She backed into the maintenance truck, abandoned by the workers who fled along with everyone else. The keys were left in it, and the engine was still running. An idea came to mind.

  “Julie?” She heard Nelson’s voice. There was no time for her to explain.

  “I gotta go,” she said, and hung up the phone. She climbed into the truck. She cut the wheel to face the creature. At this point, only its tail was still in the water. Its red snout was facing directly toward her. Its black, non-blinking eyes gazed at the world from each side of its head. Another pair of legs took hold on the dry cement, and the hybrid was almost completely on shore.

  “Oh, this is stupid,” Forster said to herself, and quickly fastened her seatbelt. She would need it. She floored the accelerator. The truck kicked into gear. Tires screeched as the truck went from zero to a hundred. Forster clenched her teeth together and leaned back heavily into the seat. In three seconds, the truck closed the distance. Its engine smashed head-on into the creature’s snout.

  The whole front of the truck instantly caved in, bringing the truck to an instant stop. The front wheels flung out of place, rolling away from the crash, while bits of metal peppered the cement. The airbag deployed right into Forster’s face. As she faceplanted, shards of windshield glass rained into the truck’s interior. Several pieces came down onto the top of her head, embedding into her scalp.

  A huge splash washed over the wreckage as the creature fell back into the pen. Water sprayed through the broken windshield, washing over Forster’s bloody face. Her eyes stung from her own blood and the saltwater. The world spun as she reached blindly for the door handle. Locating it, she attempted to open the door, but it was stuck. Briefly leaning to the right, she swung her body back, putting her left shoulder into the door. With a metal crunch, it swung open, barely hanging by its hinges. She stepped out, wiping her face with her sleeve. Unknown to Forster, streaks of red smothered the white sleeve, and red drips came down on her shoulders. Her head throbbed. Each step became more difficult than the last. Through her blurry vision, she could see the splashes in the pen while the hybrid began another mindless rampage. She knew it wouldn’t be long before it would try to climb out again, and she was the closest prey.

  Her vision was shaky, like watching a home video filmed by a toddler. First, she was looking directly ahead, then up toward the sunny sky, then finally down at the pavement. The pavement suddenly grew much nearer, as her legs gave out, leading to her collapse. She rolled herself to her back, looking at the peaceful sky, the sight of which contrasted sharply with the maniacal thrashing about within the pen. Her vision faded into darkness, and she slipped into unconsciousness.

  CHAPTER

  29

  Like she was caught in a maelstrom, Forster was caught in a dream that was like a race through time. Faces she hadn’t seen in years flashed in front of her, and their voices echoed through her blue, swirling surrounding.

  “You have potential like no other.” Standing in the storm, she saw her father, as he was when he took her sailing for the first time as a teenager.

  “Dad!” she yelled out to him. The image did not answer. He drifted away, and in rapid progression, she saw a mirage of faces, while hearing their voices echo in her ears.

  “I bet your dead daddy would be really proud of you, ratting out your friends.”

  “Make new discoveries. That was the dream, right?”

  “You are hereby expelled from BRIZO.”

  “Do not let it survive. Let it sink to the ocean floor!”

  A light consumed the strange swirling storm of images. More voices echoed overhead, louder and more focused.

  “Looks like it missed the temporal artery.”

  “Blood pressure’s one-fifteen-over-eighty.” The light grew brighter, and suddenly a flood of sensation electrified her senses, as two more voices simultaneously echoed over the dream world.

  “Dreams don’t have to die.”

  “She’s waking up. Relax, keep calm…”

  “Just keep calm, you’re in an ambulance,” the paramedic said to Forster as she woke up. Her mind had instantly reset to the most recent memory, which was trying to get away from a shark-crustacean that was attempting to escape captivity. After several seconds, she calmed from the need to escape. She was seated up in the stretcher, and right away she felt the bandages around her head. As she felt them, she noticed the blood on her shirt. The paramedic leaned in front of her view.

  “Hey, how are you feeling?”

  “I’m alright,” Forster answered.

  “Can you tell me your name?”

  “Dr. Julie Forster,” she answered. A doctor of what? She despised her automatic inclusion of that detail.

  “How many quarters are in a dollar?” the paramedic asked.

  “Four,” she said. As the paramedic started to ask another question, she raised her hand. “I’m alright!” She then remembered the blood on her shirt, “I am, aren’t I?”

  “You had cuts from glass in your scalp,” the paramedic said. “We were able to remove them ourselves, as they didn’t pose any threat to any major arteries. However, I would recommend you get yourself checked at the hospital. We’re aware you have had a recent concussion, and considering you were in a truck crash gives us greater concern.”

  “I was keeping the hybrid in the pen…” suddenly Forster’s brain went back into high gear. “The hybrid! What’s happened? Has it got out?” She grabbed the paramedic’s coat.

  “Whoa!” he said, easing her hands away. “It’s alright, from what I understand, it’s in the pen. They’ve got it under control.” Forster leaned back, feeling partially relieved, though also confused. Who sedated it? She supposed one of the aides could have managed to do it, though everyone had fled the exhibit. The back doors of the ambulance were open, and she could hear the roller coaster rumbling in the distance. They were still at the park. She sat up more and swung herself over, touching her feet to the floor. The paramedic braced, worried she would stumble. “Hey, take it easy,” he said. “You still lost some blood there, and you may have suffered another concussion.”

  “I’m fine,” Forster said, and stood up. She took it slow as she walked out of the ambulance, taking each step carefully on the Aquarium parking lot. Though feeling woozy, she was able to keep her balance as she walked away. She noticed other ambulances in the area and paramedics and EMTs tending to people, most of whom suffered injuries from falling down during the chaos. In one of the ambulances, she could see a familiar face through the open doors; William Felt sat up on the stretcher, wincing in pain as the paramedics tended to his broken finger. Forster turned away, unable to hold back a slight smirk, though it faded at the thought of likely assault charges. A throbbing headache gradually started settling in, and everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Looking toward the emergency vehicles, she noticed two police cars. She then remembered having called Chief Nelson, and immediately desired to see him.

  “Hey! Julie!” a familiar voice called to her. She turned and saw Nelson approach. She spr
inted and ran to him.

  “Oh Joe, thank God,” she said. He smiled.

  “What’s with this sudden trend of calling me by my first name?” he jokingly asked. His smile faded as he then saw the bandage on her head and blood on her white shirt. “Good lord, you sure you’re alright?” She looked down at herself.

  “Yeah, it looks worse than it is,” she said. They both started walking toward the shark exhibit. Several maintenance crew members were at the scene, uprooting the remnants of the guardrail, while a towing vehicle loaded the totaled truck onto its ramp. Visitors casually walked around the physical barriers toward the aquarium and park. What was previously an anarchic setting had returned to being calm and casual. Watching the people, it almost was as if nothing had happened at all. She only saw one couple standing at the barricades, staring at the pen. She gazed past them all, into the pen. She knew that stillness in that water was only the calm before the storm. It was only a matter of time before the creature would attempt another escape.

  “Any idea what the damage is?” she asked.

  “According to your maintenance guys, the doors are still holding,” he said. “I think it ruptured the replacement glass in the downstairs viewing area, which has been sealed. As far as I know, none of the walls have been breached, but you can definitely tell they took a pounding. The sides look like big sheets of crumpled paper that somebody tried to flatten out.”

  “I need your help,” Forster said. “We have to kill it.”