Megalodon In Paradise

by Hunter Shea

  Captain Powell wiped the sweat from the back of his neck with a neatly folded handkerchief.

  “Make a slow and steady approach. Let’s wrap this up as soon as possible.”

  ***

  Seconds after devouring Lenny, the Megalodon went berserk. It writhed in the water, leaping and diving for no apparent reason.

  The only silver lining was that in its mad water dance, it hadn’t taken notice of the three humans desperately swimming for the lone palm tree.

  Something about the manic intensity of the shark brought renewed strength to Ollie’s spent muscles. He was even getting the hang of this whole swimming thing, following Tara’s lead and copying her motions.

  Great, you’ll be a world class swimmer just in time to never have a chance to go in the water again.

  Steven had put some serious distance between them and was almost at the tree.

  Ollie knew Tara wasn’t giving it her all so she didn’t leave him in the dust.

  “Almost there,” she said.

  Ollie’s lungs labored too much to reply. He kept swallowing small mouthfuls of water. His tongue was swollen from all the salt.

  His heart beat a little bit faster, if that was possible, when he saw that there was a patch of land just behind the palm tree.

  Steven leapt out of the water and let out a primal scream. Ollie couldn’t tell whether it was relief, victory, anger, or insanity. He suspected it was a combination of all of them.

  He and Tara struggled to join him, the sight of land giving them strength. The patch of island above water was about ten feet by ten feet. The palm tree had been downhill of the dune, which was why only the top half was visible.

  Limbs shaking uncontrollably, Ollie collapsed on his side. Tara and Steven dropped as well. All of them were breathing heavily, like a trio of dirty prank callers.

  Ollie noticed with a tinge of relief that somewhere along the way, the butterfly knife had fallen out of his leg. Better yet, it didn’t nick any major arteries, so he wasn’t bleeding to death. Was it really better? Ollie was too tired to think.

  Tara’s face was just inches from Ollie’s. Her eyes were so glassy, distant. He couldn’t catch his breath to talk.

  “Anyone kn-know what the fuck we do now?” Steven said, lying on his back, staring at the parting clouds.

  Ollie tried to answer but could only flap his arm a bit before it fell into the sand.

  He did manage to twist his body enough to look over where the shark still flipped about.

  “I think it’s lost its mind,” Tara croaked.

  “It’s like whatever was inside Lenny was a kind of shark steroid,” Steven said. Ollie was shocked by how right his friend probably was. Assuming it had gotten hold of Heidi in the lab, it went into full-on crazy mode. Then it disappeared moments before Ollie thought it was going to eat him and Tara. Everything had gone very, very still.

  It wasn’t a coincidence that it seemed to get a burst of adrenaline right after swallowing Lenny.

  Ollie’s gut twisted in a knot. He pictured the faces of Lenny, Heidi, Lae, and Marco staring back at him, angry as hell, bent on haunting him until he died and forever after.

  “You think anyone will come out to check on us?” Tara asked. In a strange way, she looked extremely peaceful lying there in the wet sand, resting the side of her head on her arm.

  “Eventually,” Ollie managed to reply. “Lae’s husband will head out the second it’s possible. I just hope the storm missed his island. If it laid waste to the entire area, well . . .”

  There was no reason to finish the thought.

  Tara raised her hand with visible difficulty and laid it on the side of his neck. “None of this is your fault.”

  He wished he could believe her.

  “It is if you ask me,” Steven said.

  That was more like it.

  “You think Ollie set all of this up?” Tara shot back.

  “I know Marco was responsible for some of it, and since he’s not here, it looks like he got what was coming to him.”

  “Cut it out, Cooter,” Tara said, adding insult.

  “Fuck you.”

  “When did you become such a pussy?”

  Ollie blurted, “Guys, stop it. Steven’s right. If I didn’t bring you all here, everyone would be alive.”

  Tara gave his neck a squeeze. “Don’t you ever apologize for wanting to share your paradise with us.”

  “I just should have known better,” Ollie said. “Since when did things ever go my way? That money came with a set of conditions I should have seen coming.”

  “No one, and I mean no one, could have seen this coming,” Tara said. “Even Steven has to agree with me on that.”

  Steven didn’t respond, but at least he wasn’t fighting.

  “So now I guess we just sit and wait,” Tara said.

  “And I haven’t forgotten you hitting me in the head on the boat,” Steven said to her.

  “Fine,” she said. “Happy to be on your shit list.”

  As much as he hated to do it, Ollie shifted away from Tara, her hand slipping from his neck. It took a monumental effort to get into a sitting position. With his arms resting on his knees, he watched the dorsal fin go round and round, still hovering over where the lab had been.

  Even though he was sitting on firm ground, he didn’t feel the least bit safe. That beast could swarm over them with a simple surge, its momentum carrying it over the tiny patch and back into the ocean before Ollie could scream, “Look out!”

  “Just stay over there,” he said.

  The fin dipped under water, mammoth ripples spreading in every direction in its wake.

  Ollie held his breath as he counted the seconds, waiting for it to return.

  Ten Mississippi, eleven Mississippi, twelve Mississippi, thirteen Mississippi . . .

  After two hundred and thirty of his scientifically inaccurate seconds, he finally ordered his brain to stop and collapsed onto his back. Maybe Lotano had returned to the sea goddess.

  “I think it’s gone,” he said.

  He looked over at Tara. She had fallen asleep. Even Steven had passed out. Ollie was exhausted. They had the right idea.

  Closing his eyes, he wriggled until he could drape his arm over Tara.

  If the shark wanted them so bad, there was nothing they could do about it. Ollie couldn’t fight off a sand flea, much less an oceanic dinosaur.

  He tried to find a happy place to retreat to, but could only relive every horrid moment of that day. Ollie struggled to shut his mind down.

  What was left of their little world exploded before he could find peace.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Captain Powell couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  “Goddammit! Pull back! Pull back!”

  They had waited until the shark had finally gone still. Everyone on the bridge watched in rapt silence as the creature slowly sank.

  The tempest had moved on the same time as the Megalodon had run out of gas. For the first time in this entire shit storm of an assignment, things were going their way.

  Then something revived the damned beast and it was back in manic action.

  Luckily, they were still submerged. The plan was to surface and deploy the divers to assess the damage to the special cage that had been installed under the island. Powell thanked God those men weren’t in the water now. If they had been, he’d have had to make a difficult and unpopular decision between their safety and the safety of the rest of the crew, not to mention the billion-dollar Maximus.

  Now it was all hands on deck as they veered away from the mad beast, hoping they didn’t capture its attention.

  “What the hell got it all started up again? I thought it was supposed to starve itself into dormancy.”

  Leuis consulted the debriefing they’d received.

  “That’s exactly what the science advisors said.”

  “Well, those eggheads either weren’t born or were still messing their pants when that thing w
as hatched or however the hell they made it. Obviously something’s changed.” Powell took out a stick of gum and masticated it to shreds. He hadn’t craved a cigarette more than he did at this moment.

  “Maybe it changed after all these years,” Leuis suggested. “It’s not like they’ve kept a close eye on the thing, other than the occasional drive-by. Who knows what’s been going on with it over the past fifty years? I can’t see there being anything left on the island to feed it.”

  Powell pointed at the bank of glowing monitors, half of them tracking the gargantuan creature.

  “Something is damn well feeding it,” he said to his XO.

  “But the lab and the island are wiped out. Any civilians that were on it are most assuredly gone, too.”

  “Maybe a little something was left behind in the lab and that thing somehow got ahold of it. Now there’s no telling how long we’ll have to wait before we can try again.”

  The captain paced in the cramped space, fists balled in his pockets.

  “Sir, we have a problem.”

  Powell looked at the sonar.

  It was coming right for them.

  And it was coming fast.

  The Maximus had been designed for speed and stealth, but it was still no match for the Megalodon. The shark could also out-maneuver them with ease.

  So, there was no retreat, no evasive action they could take without getting rammed by the science experiment gone wrong.

  A pained grin briefly touched Powell’s lips.

  The decision had been taken out of his hands. Everything that happened inside and outside the sub was recorded. Admiral Keyes would see there was nothing they could do to salvage the situation.

  Right now, all that mattered were the lives of his crew and preserving the Maximus.

  “Prepare to blow that thing out of the water,” he ordered.

  The alarms were set off so everyone aboard knew what to expect. Leuis called down to the torpedo room to make sure they were locked and loaded.

  Powell ordered the sub to face the shark head on. He wanted to make as sure a shot as possible. There was no room for mistakes. If they missed, they were done for.

  “Ready when you are,” Leuis said.

  “Hold steady,” Powell replied curtly.

  Just a little bit closer.

  The shark cut through the water as if it were air. The Maximus stayed tried and true on a collision course with the beast.

  “Keep coming, you mindless freak,” he muttered, hoping no one could hear him.

  “Sir,” his navigator said, an uneasy edge to his voice. The automatic alarm tripped on, signaling a collision was imminent.

  Powell calmly yet forcefully barked, “Fire.”

  The submarine shuddered as twin torpedoes shot forward.

  They detonated shortly after launching.

  Powell allowed himself to exhale.

  “Direct hit, Skipper,” Leuis reported.

  The imminent collision alarm continued to bleat.

  “Shut that damn thing off,” Powell said.

  “Incoming target,” his navigator said.

  “That’s not possible.”

  “Five seconds to impact!”

  It was never supposed to come to this. That goddamn Megalodon was supposed to be in hibernation and the Maximus was supposed to be parked safely off Australia.

  The misguided intentions of the few were about to cost the lives of many.

  “Liberal fuck ups,” he muttered, seething. His body felt lighter than air, as if a part of him had already departed in anticipation of the oncoming calamity.

  Leuis said something, but Powell couldn’t hear him. His mind was on a million things right now. He thought of the sweet sixteen party they were going to throw for his daughter when he came home in a month. He’d been looking forward to seeing Abby’s expression when he handed her the keys to the slightly used yellow Chevy Malibu.

  “Abby.”

  The impact was jarring. Captain Powell was thrown off his feet, his skull crunching on metal.

  The Maximus split in half. The only mercy was the fact that the death of all those aboard came swiftly. No one felt the Megalodon chew them to sinewy shreds as their bodies were sucked out of the damaged sub.

  ***

  The creature felt pain for the first time in its existence. It had no word for the strange sensation, but it knew it didn’t like it.

  In fact, it made it angry.

  Its anger fueled its attack on the long beast that had wounded it. Small, tasty morsels spilled from its guts. The Megalodon made quick work of them, filling its belly as it wound round and round the sinking beast.

  When all was done and there was no more food to be found—especially not the food it truly craved—the Megalodon still smelled fresh blood in the water. It swam in swirls of it.

  But something wasn’t quite right about this blood. The scent didn’t ignite its hunger.

  There was no way for its prehistoric brain to know that it was awash in its own blood. Shrapnel from the exploding torpedoes had ripped away chunks of flesh and muscle from the creature.

  Not that they had done enough to stop it.

  The pain only seemed to make it stronger.

  It needed something on which to take out its aggression.

  The programming done to it prevented it from venturing too far. The lab had been obliterated and there would be no more of its special food, but there was no way for it to ever know that.

  So it stalked the ocean, searching for food and prey, the searing pain in its flank driving it mad.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  What was left of the island vibrated. The visible half of the palm tree swayed.

  Ollie watched in horror as a gigantic plume of water exploded several hundred yards from their meager shelter.

  “Now what the fuck was that?” Steven moaned, his voice cracking.

  “You think those smugglers planted a bomb?” Tara asked, now up and sitting next to Ollie.

  He watched the water shoot up and cascade back down. It fell in a tremendous shower, the pressure of which he was sure would have crushed them had they been anywhere near it.

  “That’s too far out,” Ollie said. “The island didn’t stretch that far.”

  “Then what could it be?”

  “The shark?”

  “Not without it breaching the surface,” she said.

  “Maybe the storm activated one of those underwater volcanoes or fault lines,” Steven said. “This whole area could be ready to blow. Christ, what are we going to do?”

  He jumped to his feet, pacing and running his hands over his scalp frantically.

  “Just hold on a second,” Ollie said, trying to keep his tone as measured as possible. “I don’t feel anything else.”

  The island and the ocean had gone still. The great geyser of water had returned to its rightful place.

  The trio remained stock-still for minutes that felt like days. When nothing further happened, Ollie finally allowed his frayed nerves and muscles to relax.

  “Whatever it was, it’s gone,” he said.

  “Maybe that shark tripped a mine that was leftover from the war or something,” Steven suggested. His teeth were chattering so loud, Ollie worried they’d break. There was nothing he could give Steven to bite down on or warm him up. They were all soaked to the bone, chilled from shock and exhaustion.

  Ollie didn’t think there were any old mines around the island. Steven watched way too much History Channel for his own good.

  Tara tugged on his arm, pointing.

  “Look at all that,” she said.

  It was hard to make out any details, but it looked like all sorts of debris was making its way to the ocean’s surface. Hundreds, if not thousands of bits of flotsam had appeared from nowhere.

  Standing up to get a better look, Ollie strained his eyes. “What is all that stuff?”

  It didn’t look like anything natural from the sea.

  He remembered seeing v
ideo on the news of a commercial plane in Thailand that had crashed into the ocean several years ago. A chopper had been deployed right after the deadly accident, filming the desperate attempt to search for survivors. He’d been shocked by how many pieces the massive plane had shattered into.

  This looked exactly like that, except there hadn’t been any planes for hundreds of miles.

  “Something exploded,” Tara said. “And I don’t think it was the shark.”

  “I bet it was a submarine,” Steven said. “It was a submarine that had been sent to save us and n-n-now even that’s gone. Fuck!”

  Ollie was too exhausted to try to settle the big man down. Odds were, if he so much as touched Steven, he’d catch holy hell for it. Ollie knew he wasn’t high on his list of favorite people, and he couldn’t blame him.

  That didn’t stop Tara from saying, “Calm the hell down, Steven. Why would a submarine be sent to this island? That doesn’t make any sense. We haven’t been able to send out a distress call. No one knows what happened out here.”

  Steven jabbed his finger in the direction of the floating wreckage. “Somebody knows. Somebody kn-knows for sure. And n-now they’re dead, too. Everybody dies out here. Just like we’re going to die.”

  Tara looked to Ollie. What could he say? At the moment, he thought Steven was right. The only difference was, he refused to get hysterical about it.

  He checked the tidemark on the sand. It hadn’t receded so much as an inch, but it also hadn’t crept further up their tiny patch of temporary salvation.

  Ollie wondered what all of the bungalows looked like. Were they intact, like towns that were flooded when dams were built? Or had all of the work been reduced to splinters? And was there a possibility that the tide had washed it all out there and what they were seeing was the bobbing remains of his dream?

  It didn’t matter.

  All that was left to them was sitting out here and dying of thirst.

  Unless, of course, Lae’s husband Lucky would make a dash for the island. Ollie’s heart quickened. In the midst of struggling to simply survive, he’d forgotten about Lucky. He was sure the man would be on a boat headed their way the second it was possible.