Megalodon In Paradise

by Hunter Shea

“I’m sorry,” he said.

  She gripped his hand.

  In just a few hours, they were all broken, the island coming apart around them.

  There was so much water on the lab floor. She imagined this sealed place filling up like a fish tank in no time.

  Something knocked heavily on the door. Broken furniture shifted, scraping against the floor.

  “Where’s the rifle?” Ollie said, getting up to look for where he’d thrown it.

  The banging continued.

  It wasn’t the wind.

  Donovan Bailey’s men were here.

  INTERLUDE 1954

  Even within the sealed fortress that was Deep Sea Rebirth—Omega Lab, Dr. Laughton could hear the howling wind outside. The sound of the ocean crashing furiously within the tank echoed throughout the heart of the lab.

  The Category-5 hurricane hadn’t even touched down yet, and already the island was in danger of being swallowed up.

  The very air was charged with barely controlled panic. Men were shouting, orders were being given and there was chaos everywhere.

  Dr. Laughton leaned against the doorway watching everything unravel with calm indifference.

  First, he was simply too sick to have the energy to get worked up. In fact, all of the scientists that had been here since the start were dying from radiation poisoning. They’d learned a lot about safe handling of radioactive material in their time here, though too late to save themselves. It didn’t help that Dr. Mueller’s toxic concoction was deadlier than any plague known to man, reducing men to screaming puddles of viscera in days if they touched it directly.

  And to think the Magelodon eats men infected with it to no ill effect, he thought. In fact, it only makes it stronger. How can we maintain dominance over a being like that?

  We can’t, of course.

  He wished Dr. Lancaster was able to get up to see everyone running around like chickens with their heads cut off. The poor man was confined to his bed, no longer capable of standing on his own two feet. His body had finally given out two days ago. They’d learned that there was no going home from here. The island would be their grave, and they would take their secrets with them.

  “You look quite content.”

  Dr. Laughton turned to find Dr. Mueller beside him, leaning on his cane. He’d lost so much weight, he ironically resembled a death camp survivor. His skin was a disturbing yellow, with red sores on his arms and face.

  “And you look like death warmed over . . . twice.”

  “They’re evacuating the island,” Dr. Mueller said. “Military personnel only.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “I’ve had assurances they will come back once the storm passes.”

  Laughton laughed. “Mother Nature’s given them the perfect excuse to finally pull the plug on your nightmare. They’re never coming back.”

  Mueller coughed into his hand, his palm glistening with blood.

  “They will . . . someday, when science catches up with our great achievement.”

  “You really think what we’ve done is a boon to mankind?”

  “You Americans never had the mettle to strive for anything beyond your limited imaginations.”

  Laughton huffed. “Yes. Morality will do that to you.”

  “Morality is the panacea for the weak and feeble minded.”

  “Unlike your master race?”

  Mueller scowled at him.

  Taking a deep rattling breath, he headed toward the stairs that led to the top of the observation platform.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Dr. Laughton called after him.

  “If I’m going to die in this cursed tomb, I’ll do so beholding my creation.”

  He watched the frail Nazi slowly make his way up the stairs. Laughton offered a silent prayer that the man’s heart would simply give out, denying him his final wish.

  But as Dr. Laughton had suspected long ago, there was no one to hear their prayers.

  The ground trembled and water sloshed from the tank. Laughton caught snatches of conversations from the scrabbling seamen. All eyes avoided his gaze. They felt guilt knowing he was to be left behind. He wanted to tell them there was no cause for their shame. He was perfectly willing to die here. Sure, he’d give anything to be surrounded by his family just one last time, but he knew he was toxic. Any selfish intention to be with them would only curse them later.

  Not that the military was in the habit of granting wishes.

  He did hear that a tidal wave was heading their way and speculation that the entire island would be underwater before the hour was up.

  Would the lab collapse?

  He hoped to hell it would.

  Breaking from his ruminations, he looked up to see Dr. Mueller had made it to the top. He took something out of his pocket.

  It was a hypodermic needle.

  No!

  “Mueller, don’t!” Laughton shouted, his voice too fragile to be heard.

  He’s injecting himself with the serum. Good God, he’s going to unleash the creature!

  Laughton grabbed a soldier as he ran past him.

  “Son, I need you to shoot Dr. Mueller,” he said, pointing to the top of the tank.

  Dr. Mueller had completed the injection, throwing the needle aside.

  “What?” the soldier, a kid who looked barely out of his teens, said.

  “Shoot him now. He can’t get into that tank.”

  “Sir, I can’t just shoot a man.”

  Lashing out, Dr. Laughton went for his rifle. The move startled the man so much, he was able to pluck it from his hands.

  A scientist, not a marksman, Dr. Laughton had seconds to take as many shots as he could before the soldier reclaimed his rifle.

  He aimed it in the doctor’s direction and pulled on the trigger again and again. Bullets pinged off the tank and the metal gangway.

  Dr. Mueller looked down at him with a wolfish grin.

  The rifle was ripped from Laughton’s hands. He fell hard, the back of his head smacking into the wall.

  He watched in horror as Dr. Mueller waved at him, toppling into the tank and out of sight.

  “You’re all going to die,” Laughton said.

  The soldier stood over him, hopping from one foot to the next as if unsure what to do.

  Laughton saved him the trouble. “If you go with the evacuation team, you’ll die.” He saw the name patch on the soldier’s jacket. HARDY.

  “What’s your name, son?”

  “Chet . . . Chet Hardy.”

  Something thundered underneath the lab. The muted sound of twisted metal screeched from within the tank.

  “Sir, I have to go.”

  Laughton grabbed hold of the man’s pant leg. He gripped it with the remaining strength he had left.

  “Please, listen to me. The Megalodon is breaking free. That goddamn Nazi has condemned you all. I don’t know if the lab will withstand the storm, but it’s better than being in the water when the creature is loose.”

  Chet Hardy’s mouth screwed up tight. They were the only two people left in the main lab.

  “You’ve seen what it does,” Laughton said.

  Hardy gave a solemn nod.

  “Don’t go in the water.”

  Laughton’s hands grew too weak to hold the boy any longer. After everything that had happened these past five years, it was going to come down to saving one life. This stranger, a mere boy he had seen but never acknowledged before, would have to be his final act of grace.

  If man had a soul and there was such a thing as judgment, would this be enough?

  “I don’t care about my damnation,” Laughton said.

  “Excuse me, sir?” Hardy said, leaning down to ease his eyelids open.

  A great flood of water erupted from the tank, hammering them both. It knocked the wind out of him, his mouth filling with water.

  Be safe, Chet Hardy, he thought, too weak to paddle his arms, drowning on sea water.

  Be safe.


  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “Tara, Lae, you think you can get everyone into the other room?” Ollie barked. He stared ahead with the rifle aimed at the door.

  The steady pounding at the door matched the beat of Lenny’s frenetic pulse in his ears. “I’ll be able to walk on my own.”

  Lae and Tara were having trouble getting Marco to his feet. Steven carried Heidi as if she were a bride about to be brought over the threshold.

  “It’s six against one,” Tara said. “You can’t stay here and hold them off.”

  “Watch me.”

  Everyone went into the adjoining room except Lenny. “I’m not going to leave you.”

  Ollie softened his stance. “Buddy, you’re not well. Go.”

  Lenny found a piece of rebar on the floor. “But I’m not dead.” Yet.

  “If you stay here, you’ll just get in the way,” Ollie said. “You can barely stand as it is. How do you expect to fight guys with guns off when you—”

  Lenny smirked through the throbbing in his right arm. “Have only one arm? I’m not exactly Conan, am I?”

  “Hell, I’d take a Minion over you at this point.” For a moment, Ollie smiled, but he quickly turned serious. “Look, I have the element of surprise. It’s dark as hell in here and I’ll bet they don’t know I have a gun. I don’t want to accidentally shoot you.”

  The door shuddered, opening just a crack as the pile of chairs shifted.

  “Crap,” Ollie spat, running toward the door. He looked at Lenny, who held the rebar high. “You’re really not going to listen to me, are you?”

  “Why start now?”

  “Maybe I can discourage them. You think you can put your good shoulder into the door and try to wedge it shut when I give you the signal?”

  Lenny looked for an opening amidst the tangle of furniture. “Yeah, I’m good.”

  Ollie peered through the slit in the door. The pounding increased. It sounded like the men were using their bodies as battering rams, picking up the pace now that they saw it was working.

  “Just a little bit more,” Ollie said. He bit his lower lip so hard, blood trickled down his chin.

  He pressed the muzzle into the opening.

  The door shifted, opening just a little wider.

  “Get the fuck off my island,” Ollie whispered, shoving the barrel through the gap.

  He pulled the trigger.

  The sound reverberated in the cement room. Lenny couldn’t believe how loud it was.

  Outside, men started shouting. One man screamed in agony.

  Trying to catch his breath, Lenny said, “Jesus, Ollie. You just shot a guy.”

  “At least I hope I did.”

  He took the rebar from Lenny and jammed it as best he could in the slight gap between the door and the floor. Water continued to pour inside.

  The pounding stopped.

  They put their ears to the door. They couldn’t hear anything other than the roar of the wind and the crash of waves.

  “Maybe it’s five to one now,” Ollie said.

  “If we’re lucky, they’ll head back to the bungalows.”

  “If there’s anything left to head back to.”

  They waited ten minutes, silently listening for any sign that the men were still outside.

  Lenny muttered, “I think they’re gone.”

  “We’re not that lucky.”

  Lenny looked down at where his right hand should be. How could it be that just twenty-four hours ago, he had two hands and was living in a paradise?

  “We should head deeper in the lab,” Ollie said. “This room is too big and there’s no cover if they do come back.”

  “You join the military after we graduated or something?”

  Ollie stepped away from the door. “No, but I watched a hell of a lot of war movies. I’m a big fan of Kelly’s Heroes and The Big Red One.”

  “Yeah, well remember, this isn’t a movie. You shoot people, they shoot back. And no one is going to yell cut just to save your ass.”

  Ollie slipped an arm around Lenny’s waist. “Let’s go.”

  They were about to open the door to the next room when the front door exploded in a hail of gunfire. Ollie dropped them to the ground. Lenny’s stump hit the floor. He saw stars and galaxies and was almost swept into a black hole.

  Bullets whizzed over their heads, pinging into the walls.

  Through the haze of pain and fear, Lenny looked toward the door just as it came apart. A swirl of wind powered rain cascaded into the lab.

  Behind it, the silhouettes of the men appeared, guns drawn. Two of them carefully stepped over the detritus.

  He felt Ollie tugging at him.

  “Time to get the hell out of here.”

  The meager light coming in from the gray world outside wasn’t strong enough to reach to their end of the room. Ollie opened the door just enough for them to slip into the next room. He closed it as quietly as possible.

  The room was empty.

  ***

  Escargot’s head was gone.

  “Shit,” Bami cried.

  Nacho didn’t care much for the Frenchman. That was why he’d made him try to get into the building first.

  “Looks like we’ll have to do this the hard way,” Nacho said.

  The people inside were shitting themselves. He felt it in his gut. Right now, they were probably scurrying like rats, scared by the sound their rifle made.

  “Shark,” Mofongo shouted, pointing.

  A fin the size of a billboard cruised past them. So, it wasn’t a whale that had destroyed their boat and eaten the crew.

  “That’s one big motherfucking shark,” Mofongo said.

  There wasn’t much left of the beach. If they didn’t get in there soon, they were going to be chum.

  The five remaining men aimed their automatic weapons at the door.

  Nacho screamed over the howling wind, “Fire!”

  ***

  The moment they heard the gunfire, Steven forced everyone into the center room of the lab complex. He wanted to put as much distance between them and the men with the guns as possible. Tara resisted at first.

  “We have to make sure Ollie and Lenny are okay!”

  When she let go of Marco, who was riding the line between conscious and delirious, he slipped from Lae’s grasp and hit the floor hard.

  Steven managed to hold onto Heidi and latch onto Tara’s arm, preventing her from opening the door.

  From the sound of things, Steven was pretty damn sure Ollie and Lenny were as far from okay as they were from their real homes back in the states.

  “Don’t you dare,” he hissed.

  She struggled to break free from his grip.

  “Get the fuck off me!”

  “You want to get us all killed?” He tried to keep his voice down. “If they’re still alive, they’ll be right behind us. N-n-now, we have to get the hell out of this room. Maybe, if we keep going, we’ll find a way out.”

  Heidi mumbled something. He looked down at her and had to keep himself from crying out. Her skin was bruising at an alarming rate. Her flesh was beginning to puff up, as if fluids were building up just under the surface.

  Was she bleeding internally?

  Putting his hand to her face, he recoiled. She was burning up.

  “You have to do something,” he pleaded to Tara.

  The shooting outside had stopped.

  “I don’t even know what’s wrong with her. I’m not a doctor.”

  Lenny had maybe saved himself by taking off his infected hand. Heidi had ingested whatever vile disease was created in this godforsaken lab. What the hell could Steven cut off her to save her?

  Unable to speak without crying, Steven tugged Tara into the next room. “Please, help her,” he said.

  Without waiting for Tara’s reply, he darted into the other room and grabbed Marco, Lae right on his heels.

  “Hand me that flashlight,” he said to Lae.

  He shined it at the door. There was a dea
dbolt on the door. It was rusty, but he managed to slam it into place.

  “It’s better than nothing,” he murmured.

  Marco sat beside Heidi, his head resting on his drawn knees. What a fucking lot they turned out to be. If those men got in here, they were as good as dead.

  “I’m going to look for a way to get to another room,” Steven said. “Maybe there’ll even be something they left behind that will explain what the hell is happening to Heidi.”

  Tara cradled Heidi’s head to her chest. He noticed she was careful not to touch any of his wife’s exposed skin. “Don’t count on it. Whatever they were doing out here, they wanted it to remain a secret.”

  Steven punched the tank just above her head. Tara didn’t flinch.

  Pain rocketed up his arm.

  “We have to try. At the very least, there has to be another way out.”

  “Well, you have fun looking for it,” Tara replied sharply.

  He took one last look at his blackening wife and ran along the tank.

  The floor shook violently, knocking him off his feet. A great wave of water spilled from the top of the tank, soaking him to the bone.

  If the gunshots were bad, the pummeling coming from inside the tank was far worse.

  Somehow, the shark knew they were in here.

  Lae’s scream echoed in the lab.

  There was another enormous concussion. A web of cracks etched along the floor. He scooted away from them, the flashlight’s beam illuminating the disintegration of the structural integrity of the lab.

  The Megalodon was coming for them, and it appeared nothing was going to stand in its way.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The creature had grown ravenous.

  Yes, it had feasted on meat it found both in the darkened depths and dazzling bright surface. But they hadn’t been enough.

  The taste wasn’t right.

  Neither was the effect the food had on its body.

  It had slept a long, long time. It needed to gorge to make up for the vast space of nothingness it had endured.

  It knew it couldn’t go far. Not now in its weakened state.

  So it waited.

  And waited.

  And still, nothing came.

  So it grew angry.