by Hunter Shea
Well, no matter.
Nacho was dying. But when he did, he knew rigor mortis would make it impossible for the man to release his grip on him. Soon enough, Nacho’s dead weight would be an anchor, dragging the son of a bitch into the sea.
The smuggler smiled for the first time that day.
Killing always made him happiest.
At least he’d go out doing what he loved.
***
Tara pounded on Steven’s back to no avail. He was twice her size and determined to get as far away from the shark as possible.
Which would have been exactly what she would do if not for the possibility that Ollie was out there.
Of course, it could also be the smuggler. She hadn’t checked to see if the fall had killed him. Or it could be another one that had managed to survive the tank blast.
No, it had to be Ollie.
“Steven, just listen to me,” she said, taking a different tack. “If you turn around now, it’ll take less than a minute to circle back and grab Ollie.”
He looked down at her with fire in his eyes. “A minute is fifty nine seconds longer than that damned shark needs to devour us. There’s no way I’m going back there.”
“Not even to save our friend’s life?”
He turned away from her. “Especially not.”
She couldn’t just leave Ollie out there, paddling for his life, waiting for the shark to chew him up.
Scanning the deck of the Sarah Kay, she found a retro aluminum cooler. She was sure Ollie had bought it thinking of all the ice cold beer he’d bring aboard as they went out to enjoy the beautiful ocean.
Tara grabbed the sides of the cooler, grateful it was empty and not full of melted ice water and bottles of warm beer.
She didn’t want to hit Steven, but he wasn’t giving her an option.
Heaving it with all her might, she brought the edge of the cooler down on the back of Steven’s head. He slumped over the wheel, jerking the boat hard to the left. His body slid off the wheel onto the deck.
Tara watched in horror as the wheel spun. It looked as if an invisible man was piloting the boat to certain ruin.
She grabbed the wheel, crying out in pain as she struggled to get it under control. Once that was done, she checked on Steven. There was a nasty cut on his head but he was breathing steadily.
Turning the boat around, she operated the throttle as Steven had, not going too fast for fear of losing control. Lenny’s body slid back and forth across the deck as she navigated the swells.
The shark, for the moment, was nowhere to be seen. That gave her very little comfort. She bit down hard on her back teeth, expecting it to slam the underside of the boat any second.
She searched for the human shape she’d seen flailing on the surface.
For all she knew, she was too late. If that had been Ollie, the bad swimmer that he was, he was probably making his descent to the bottom of the sea right now. And maybe that was a blessing. Drowning was far more preferable to being eaten by a prehistoric shark.
She was about to give up when she saw a hand claw through the rough water.
She sped as fast as she dared toward it.
Tara cut the engine back as soon as she got within ten yards of the hand. It was the only thing above water.
Damn you, Steven, she cursed, knowing his hesitation had cost Ollie his life. No matter. If all she could do was retrieve Ollie’s body, that would have to be enough. Thinking that, she felt a sudden wave of pity toward Steven who wouldn’t be able to do the same for Heidi.
Unable to navigate the boat comfortably, she hoped the tide would push her closer toward Ollie.
What she didn’t expect was the rush of water from below as the ocean exploded, tipping the boat on its side.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Ollie felt something sharp and heavy slam into his legs.
The smuggler that he’d been struggling with on the roof held onto his leg and wouldn’t let go, dragging Ollie down with him.
Suddenly he was rocketing toward the surface, breaking through the water and sailing into the sky. Tumbling ass over heels, he finally slipped free from the smuggler’s dead grasp.
Ollie looked down before spinning skyward once more. What he saw made him wish he’d never survived the confrontation with the smuggler or subsequent demolition of the lab building.
The Megalodon poked its conical head from the ocean, rows of teeth pulling back, gums quavering as it waited for its next morsel. Before he turned completely around, he saw the smuggler slip into the shark’s mouth, hitting its tongue before disappearing down its gullet.
That’s going to be me, Ollie thought with sickening clarity.
There was nothing he could do about it. He’d run out of places to hide. It was just him, the ocean, and the Megalodon.
Falling toward the Pacific, he just hoped Tara and Lenny had somehow managed to find a way out.
It was funny. He wasn’t afraid. When death was inevitable, there was no longer anything left to fear. The doubt of how the end would come was gone.
After everything that had happened, he welcomed it.
Arms and legs flailing, he turned around once again so he was facing the ocean.
The shark was gone . . . at least for the moment.
It would be back. And Ollie’s body would be there, waiting for it.
He hit the water knees first. His shins felt as if they’d been smashed with a two-by-four. Ollie went under.
Just take a deep breath and end it, he thought, tumbling in the brine.
He couldn’t make himself do it. Instead, he floated to the surface, gasping for air.
“Ollie!”
No. That was impossible.
“Ollie! Over here!”
He craned his neck to the sound of the woman’s voice. When he saw Tara, tears sprung from his eyes.
“Tara,” he croaked, feebly reaching out for her.
She was hanging onto the underside of a boat, extending her arm to him. She was too far away. He’d have to swim at least twenty-five yards to her, and he just didn’t have the strength or ability. The simple act of keeping afloat was taxing his limited skills. The open wounds in his shoulder, nipple, and thigh burned from the salt water.
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” she replied. She looked equally spent. They bobbed on the water, so close yet too far.
“Is Lenny . . .”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I lost him and Steven when we capsized.”
“Steven’s still alive?”
“He was,” she said. “He got your boat and came back for us.”
They gazed into each other’s tired eyes. He could tell there was more she wanted to say, but she was keeping it to herself.
So this was it. They’d made it back to one another and just had to wait for the shark to finish them off. Ollie wished to hell there was some way to save Tara, but he knew that ship had sailed, so to speak.
“Look,” Tara said. He paddled his body around to see where she was staring. It was so hard staying afloat. Every muscle felt like it was on fire.
The shark’s fin cruised not far behind him.
It was coming for them.
“Tara, I just want you to know something,” he said.
“I know,” she said.
“I have to say it at least once before I die.” His mouth dipped under water and he spit out a long stream of salty water. “I love you”
She gave him a weak smile. “I’ve known that for a long time.”
“You have?”
“Subtlety isn’t one of your strong points.”
He laughed, despite their dire circumstances.
“I should have told you sooner,” he said.
“I think you timed it just right. It’s a beautiful thing to hear before . . . before . . .”
Her eyes grew as wide as dinner plates.
Ollie looked back.
The shark was com
ing right for them, fast as a bullet train.
He was finally at peace. It took winning an enormous lottery, rebuilding an island, uprooting the lives of his college friends, and watching it all fall to pieces to finally find comfort. Nothing made sense to Ollie in this world. Soon enough, that would no longer be a concern.
Ollie closed his eyes, waiting for the shark’s jaws to clamp around him. The ocean surged, pushing him toward Tara. The overturned boat rose and dipped, Tara clinging to it desperately.
“Where did it go?” Tara said.
Ollie peeked over his shoulder. The dorsal fin was gone. The water calmed.
“I don’t know,” he said.
He’d bet everything he’d won that the damn demon shark was just under them, plotting the most hideous way to take their lives.
Tara managed to snag his shirt and pull him against her. He eagerly gripped the boat, the blessed relief from trying to tread water this side of euphoric, no matter how fleeting it would be.
“Hey!”
Ollie heard Steven but couldn’t find him.
“Steven!” Ollie cried back.
“Where are you guys?”
“By the boat,” Tara said.
“I can’t see him anywhere,” Ollie said.
“Me neither. He must be on the other side.”
Ollie and Tara made their way around the upturned boat, sliding their hands across the hull. Rounding the bow, Ollie spotted Steven. He had one arm draped over Lenny, though the man’s floating body no longer looked anything like him.
Steven managed to swim to the boat. Lenny floated on his back, oblivious to the carnage.
“Is he still alive?” Ollie asked.
Tara checked for a pulse. With the way his body was rising and falling in the water, it was impossible to tell if he was breathing by looking at his chest.
“I am,” Lenny sputtered. Tara jerked her hand away. Like Ollie, she had assumed Lenny was gone.
“Just . . . just stay relaxed,” Ollie said. He knew the moment Lenny stiffened, he was going to start to sink.
Lenny weakly lifted a blackened arm. “Jesus, look at me. I must look like a floating turd.”
“How does it feel?” Tara asked.
“It doesn’t burn so much anymore. I think my nerves got fried. Everything inside me feels, I don’t know how to say it, it all feels off. Like there’s stuff sloshing around my abdomen.”
Steven said, “Ollie, have you seen Heidi?”
Ollie shook his head. He saw the grief in Steven’s eyes and couldn’t help feeling ashamed.
“Where’s our friend, the shark?” Lenny said. He’d closed his eyes and had a serene smile on his charcoal lips.
“I don’t know,” Ollie said. “It disappeared. It could be anywhere.”
The absence of the shark was starting to wear on Ollie’s remaining resolve. It was one thing to grimly accept your fate. It was another to think it was coming and be forced to wait, not knowing when to expect it.
“How far are we from shore?” Lenny asked.
“I don’t think there is a shore anymore,” Ollie said. All he could see was water and floating debris.
“You need to find someplace safe and leave me here.”
“We’re not doing that,” Tara said.
Lenny opened one eye, twisted his head and gazed at the water.
“You’re going to have to. It looks like I’ve started to leak.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Lenny saw the undulating tendrils of what looked like an oil slick around him. Black ichor oozed from every pore, polluting the water. Ollie, Tara and Steven had smartly moved away from him, but only after his calm insistence.
“They turned me into a squid,” he said, chuckling until it degenerated into a gurgling cough.
Oddly enough, he no longer felt any pain.
One small mercy.
Glancing out from the corner of his eye, his saw his friends clinging to the boat, too close for comfort.
“You guys need to haul some ass,” Lenny said. “There may be some dry land left. Find it.”
“We can’t just leave you here to die,” Tara protested.
“I’m already dead. Now I know how Heidi felt. At least let me die in peace thinking you knuckleheads found a way out of this.”
No one spoke. Lenny closed his eyes again. Each breath was a struggle.
He was happy to hear the sound of their paddling away.
There had to be some high ground left, somewhere. Even if the island had been swamped by the storm, surely the ocean had started to retreat now that it had passed.
Lenny felt a pressure in his bowels, then a steady release. The stench of the discharge swirling around him made him wish his sense of smell would hurry up and die, too.
***
The creature sank into colder and colder layers of water. It was no longer able to maintain its frenzy. Its cells were switching off, returning to the dark, dormant place where it had lain for decades.
Not that it had any concept of time.
There was only the moment. And each moment was controlled by the simple instinct to feed.
But there was no longer enough of the special meat to sustain it.
The Megalodon had no thoughts as it plunged into the Pacific. Its hunger ceased to be a driving force.
Its ears and nose detected something strange in the distance, something large but not food. It was of no concern to the shark.
As the neurons in its prehistoric brain went to sleep, the electrical pulses in its synaptic pathways glowed less and less. Soon, only the bare minimum of brain function would remain—just enough to maintain stasis for as long as was needed.
Its vision had just begun to fade when the shark detected something else.
Its brain went into instant high alert.
Food was near.
The Megalodon shook off its impending slumber. Adrenaline shot through its system.
It soared toward the surface, following the chemical trail to the meat it craved.
***
Ollie kept looking back toward Lenny. His friend floated, hands clasped together and resting on his chest in a classic death repose. It looked as if his skin was actually starting to fall from his skull like melting candle wax. He couldn’t begin to imagine what kind of chemical reaction was occurring inside Lenny. Harder to fathom was the diseased mind that would dream up such a thing.
Tara urged him on. Steven had pulled ahead of them. Ollie thought he heard Steven crying as he swam, once choking out Heidi’s name.
What was the point? Everything was gone. All they were doing was delaying the inevitable.
Though if he kept this up, his body was going to give out sooner rather than later. He should be so lucky to drown.
But as long as Tara held out hope, so would he.
He wondered if she was thinking the same thing.
“I think I see something,” Tara said.
All Ollie could see were breaks in the clouds, bars of sunlight poking through and illuminating the ocean.
“Over there,” Tara said. She’d slowed down so he could catch up to her. She pointed to the top of a palm tree several hundred yards away. It was hard to tell from this distance, but he’d guess a good ten feet of the tree was visible above the water.
The skinny tree wasn’t enough to renew his vigor and infuse him with optimism. It seemed so far away. There was no way he’d be able to make it. And even if he did, how long could three people manage to last clinging to the weakened branches of a tree in the middle of the ocean?
Again, his mind drifted to the movies. He thought of the couple stranded in the ocean in the shark movie Open Water. It was supposed to be based on a true story, the couple succumbing to their injuries and the dining desires of a shark as they paddled for days in the ocean. He remembered thinking it was a combination of the worse deaths possible—drowning and being eaten alive.
Would anyone make a movie about this?
Probably not. W
ho would believe it?
“Oh, thank God,” he said with false enthusiasm. “It’s about time we caught a break.”
Tara smiled. “We were overdue.”
“You think you can make it?” he asked.
“With my eyes closed.”
“Best to keep them open. You don’t want to swim in the wrong direction.”
Steven saw it as well because he paused in his sidestroke to call back to them, “You guys see that? Come on!”
He attacked the water like an Olympian at tryouts.
Ollie toiled just to swim the next several yards. Tara sensed his flagging strength and stayed close to him.
“You go on ahead,” Ollie said. “Don’t worry, slow and steady wins the race.”
“Then we’ll go slow and steady together.”
Ollie felt the water surge underneath him.
“Shit!” he exclaimed.
That could mean only one thing. The Megalodon was returning. It was so massive and so fast, even the ocean fled from it.
They stopped swimming and clung to one another.
Instead of the sensation of being run over by a train, they heard a tremendous explosion of water behind them.
Ollie turned to witness the moment the shark shattered the surface, swallowing Lenny whole.
The Megalodon flopped back into the water seconds after securing its prey.
***
“Skipper, it looks like the target has stopped.”
Captain Powell looked at the monitor. Indeed, the Megalodon had gone still and was slowly sinking back to the ocean floor. He’d asked Leuis to prepare a team of divers. Once the shark had run out of gas, they would have to somehow lock the thing back up. If its cage was too badly damaged, he would make the call and they’d have to babysit it until a replacement was sent from the naval base in Australia.
He didn’t relish the thought of spending any more time than was necessary around that abomination. If it came awake again, his instinct would be to unleash every torpedo the Maximus had at it.
But you can’t do that. I’m not going to throw thirty-four years in the crapper over this.
Unless it’s a matter of the lives of my crew over the science experiment cooked up by some eggheads before I was even born.