by Hunter Shea
He saw Tara shivering and put an arm over her. She rested her head against him.
“What I wouldn’t give for a warm blanket and a bottle of whiskey,” she said.
“I’d settle for just the whiskey,” Ollie said. “Wild Turkey Reserve. We deserve the good stuff.”
Steven continued to pace behind them, muttering to himself.
“Remember when we found a bottle of Turkey Reserve in New Hampshire on that skiing trip on Christmas break?” Tara said.
“That’s where I fell in love with it. We were so smashed that whole time, it’s a miracle we didn’t end up in traction.”
“I guess we used up all of our miracles on that trip.”
He pulled her closer, smelling the brine in her hair. “The fact that we’re still here talking about it is a miracle.”
“Oh yeah, then what’s that?” Steven blurted.
The shark’s dorsal fin crept into view, cleaving through the wreckage.
Ollie felt all of his muscles go limp.
Shit.
There was no way Lucky could make it past the shark. Now he prayed the man wasn’t speeding toward the island. If the shark got him, yes, a search party would be sent to find him.
The shark would be sure to devour them, too. All Ollie, Tara and Steven could do was cling to the remains of his island and watch the cavalry get cut down, one by one, while dehydration worked on stopping their hearts.
Ollie abruptly stood and stormed into the water, stopping when it was up to his hips.
“Ollie, get out of the water,” Tara said.
“Don’t tempt that thing,” Steven added.
He leveled his gaze at the visible triangle of the shark. If looks could kill…
But they couldn’t. Not even wound.
“It can’t come here,” Ollie said. “It’s too shallow.”
“But maybe it can get under us, just like at the lab,” Steven said. “Get out of the goddamn water.”
He headed toward Ollie, stopping the moment his feet touched the water.
Ollie would give anything for a chance to take that abomination out. If he could be granted one wish, he’d ask for a bazooka or grenade launcher. Anything that he could hold in his hands, giving him the satisfaction of taking down the Megalodon.
Or better yet, he’d wish to be made large enough to grab hold of its jaws and pry them apart with his bare hands. Just thinking about the sound it would make, watching the life bleed from its cold black eyes, gave Ollie a thrill. His soul seethed with hatred for the wretched shark and all the people who thought to bring it to life, leaving it out here to destroy everything and everyone he held dear.
Instead, all he could do was stand in its territory and pound his fists impotently into the water. He’d never felt so small in his life.
He gave a start when Tara grabbed his hand.
“Come on. There’s nothing we can do,” she said, leading him back to semi-dry land.
Ollie sighed. She was right. What could he do against a dinosaur shark?
He looked down and saw blood in the water around Tara.
“Hey, are you okay?” he said.
She followed his gaze and nudged him away from her.
“Great. Now I have my period. Why not?”
She laughed, crying at the same time. Ollie wanted to console her, but a quick look told him he would embarrass her if he got too close.
“Ollie. Ollie. Ollie! Ollie!” Steven blabbered.
Ollie’s spine went rigid.
The shark was heading right for them, coming on faster now.
He grabbed Tara by the waist and carried her to the meager shore. She protested at first, until she spotted the approaching fin.
“You said it can’t get us, right?” Steven said.
Ollie couldn’t take his eyes off the fin.
How could something that big move so fast?
“We’re safe here. Right, Ollie? Right?”
Ollie made sure Tara was behind him, a futile gesture at best, and braced for impact.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Tara watched in horror as the Megalodon shot out of the ocean. Its gargantuan body blocked out the reappearing sun as it sailed toward them.
Her only thought was this isn’t possible!
How could it know they were here?
Its lair was the ocean. It should be as unaware of what happened on land as they were of what went on in the murky depths of the sea.
As it sailed toward them like a fighter jet, she knew the answer.
It was coming for her.
If she hadn’t gone in the water for Ollie, it would have continued to patrol the water, blissfully unaware of their existence.
Now she knew why people referred to it as the curse. There was nothing a voodoo priest could have done worse to seal their fate than this simple act of human nature.
Ollie shoved her so hard, she lost her footing and landed on her back.
The entire Megalodon was now out of the water.
This close, it was the largest thing she or any living person would ever see.
Not that she’d be among the living for long.
“Get down, Steven!” Ollie shouted as he dove on top of Tara.
The shark’s momentum had been too great. There was a tremendous crack. It sailed over the small parcel left of Grand Isla Tiburon, landing with a tremendous splash back into the ocean behind them. She squirmed under Ollie, trying to catch a glimpse of it. She spotted its sleek, silvery body as it slipped back into the sea.
Tara and Ollie separated, rising to their hands and knees.
The palm tree had been obliterated by the passing beast.
Steven was somehow still on his feet.
“You okay, Steven?” Tara asked.
His eyes swiveled toward her, but his head remained in a fixed position, pointing out to where the shark had come from.
“Steven?”
Ollie helped her to her feet.
Steven’s arms dropped limply at his sides.
“I think he’s lost it,” Ollie said.
Slowly, they approached him.
Tara was the first to see the blood leaking down his neck. She gasped when she edged around him.
The entire top of his skull was gone.
Blood and brain matter pulped from the open wound, trickling down his neck.
“Ollie,” she cried, hoping he’d help her lay Steven down.
It was too late.
Steven’s legs went out from under him. The second his head hit the sand, his brain poured from his open skull.
Even Ollie shrieked at the grisly sight.
“Holy crapping Christ!”
Steven’s limbs twitched as his eyes rolled to the top of his head, his mouth going slack.
Tara wanted to help him, but what could she possibly do? Ollie’s hands gripped her upper arms, keeping her from rushing to Steven’s side.
In a few seconds, the twitching stopped. Steven’s chest rose once, then deflated forever.
“How?” Ollie said.
“The shark’s skin must have grazed him,” Tara said. “It’s the only thing I can think of. Their skin looks smooth, but it’s actually like a cheese grater if you run your hand along it the wrong way. Oh, Steven.”
For the first time since everything had gone haywire, Tara cried. It wasn’t necessarily for Steven, but for everyone. She collapsed into Ollie, who managed to guide them as far as they could get from his body, which wasn’t far at all.
“It’s going to come back,” she said between heaving sobs. “And it’ll do the same thing to us.”
“I won’t let it.”
She pulled away from him. “How? How can you say that?”
Ollie’s jaw tightened, eyes narrowing.
“Because I won’t.”
Tara didn’t try to refute him. What was the point? The poor guy’s inner rage had always gotten the best of him. Maybe this time, that rage would save him from losing what little senses he had left,
as she felt her own slipping away.
Perhaps his rage would assure him that he would die fighting, never lingering on fear or regret.
She wished she had that same fire.
Ollie tromped into the water where the palm tree had stood. Jagged shards were all that was left. Grabbing one of the thickest shards with both hands, he began to tug at it, grunting heavily.
“What are you doing?”
He paused for a second, his face red bordering on purple. “I don’t really fucking know. I just know that I need some kind of weapon.”
Ollie continued trying to break the wood shard free. Tara scanned the ocean, searching for the shark. It had gone under, which made her even more nervous. It could be anywhere right now.
“Yeaggghhh!”
Ollie’s scream gave her a scare. She whipped around to see what had happened. He stood in the water smiling, holding a makeshift spear in one hand.
“Now, first things first,” he said, striding back onto the remains of the island. He jammed the blunt end of the spear in the sand and started digging. “Feel free to give me a hand.”
“With what?”
“Making you a shelter.”
“A shelter?”
“Please, just dig.”
She saw there was no arguing with him, so she dropped to her knees and scooped out sand with her hands. Together, they managed to make a good-sized hole, big enough for her to lie in.
“Now what?”
He pointed the sharp end of the shard over her shoulder. The shark’s fin had returned.
“Now you get in that hole so it can’t get you,” he said.
She tugged at his arm. “You’re getting in, too.”
“It’s not big enough.”
“We can squeeze in. Stop being ridiculous.”
He cupped her face in his hand. “Tara. Please, get in the hole. It’s coming. We don’t have much time.”
When she didn’t move, he pushed her into the hole. She landed on her tailbone. A sliver of pain rocketed up her spine.
She heard the shark burst from the ocean.
Ollie, standing by the edge of the hole, hoisted the shard over his head with both hands. The shadow of the shark came into view before the actual Megalodon.
“Ollie!”
In a flash, the shark sailed over the hole and Ollie and the shark were gone.
Tara scrabbled up the crumbling sand, her chest heaving so hard, she thought her heart would burst.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Tara made her way out of the hole, shouted Ollie’s name over and over again. Tears streamed down her face.
Ollie lay at the water’s edge, writhing in pain.
He was pretty sure both of his shoulders were dislocated. The pain was mind numbing. His hands tingled.
The pain was all the proof he needed that he was alive.
Tara dropped into the water next to him.
“I thought you were…”
“Knock on wood,” he said, looking around. “Oh. Looks like I lost it.”
When she tried to help him up, he howled in agony.
“Where does it hurt?”
“I think my shoulders are out.”
She inspected both shoulders, her brows knit in concern. “I can see the bones are where they shouldn’t be, even without an X-ray.”
“Whatever you do, don’t try to put them in,” he said. “This isn’t a Lethal Weapon movie. If you do, I’ll pass out.”
“But it’ll stop the pain.”
“I’ll live with it. Besides, have you ever put a shoulder back in place?”
“There wasn’t much call for it at the vet’s.”
“Exactly.”
With her gentle assistance, he was able to stand. He kept looking back at the ocean, expecting that vile fin to pop up.
She half-carried him to the hole, helping him slip inside. She worked hard and fast to expand it so they could both fit inside. He wished he could help her. At the moment, he couldn’t even wipe his ass if he tried. The pain was morphing into a dull hum, both arms deadening. He hoped it was just his nerves shorting out rather than a sign of a blood clot or something worse.
“What the hell did you do?” Tara asked once they were settled in. The sun had fully broken from the clouds, drying their drenched clothes and flesh.
“I think I stabbed it,” Ollie said, recalling the massive blow as he jabbed the shard into the shark as it careened into him. He felt something give way, and then the shard was ripped from his hands, nearly taking his arms with it.
Of course, the shark didn’t make a sound. There was no way to tell if Ollie had done anything more than scratch it.
But he was pretty sure that by some sort of divine intervention, he had managed to spear the damned creature’s eye.
There were remnants of some strange, viscous jelly on his hands.
“Does that look like eye juice to you?” he asked her.
He closed his fingers together, then pulled them apart, the sticky fluid forming little glue-like strands between them.
Tara’s lip curled. “I don’t know, but it smells awful.”
Ollie lay his head back. “Smells like victory to me.” He wanted to tell her the line was from Apocalypse Now, but he was too tired to keep his eyes open. His battered body was turning the lights out to save itself from another moment of pain.
It can’t get us in here, he thought, the darkness creeping toward him.
This hole will be a grave before we know it. I don’t care anymore. At least we’ll die together.
***
The creature’s vision wavered.
It was confused.
There was new pain now, arcing through its head.
Its sight, never being one of its strengths, was now severely compromised.
It wanted to kill, to eat the pain away.
But something else was wrong.
Swimming became more difficult.
An unbearable weariness swept through its gigantic body. Growing weaker by the moment, it searched for the food it needed to sustain itself.
There was none to be had.
Even its anger couldn’t overcome the pull of hibernation.
The Megalodon began to sink, no longer able to propel itself through the water.
Bit by bit, its brain began to shut down.
The long, dark place was waiting for it.
Waiting.
Wait.
Wa…
***
Tara’s loud whooping woke Ollie from his slumber.
Was it sleep when you passed into unconsciousness?
Tara.
Where was she?
Ollie tried to move, but bolts of pain kept him cemented to the sandy floor.
“Tara?” he croaked.
Her head popped over the hole.
“There’s a boat!” she cried, the smile taking up half her face.
“Is it close?”
“Yes. They saw me wave them down.”
He dared to ask, “You see the shark?”
“No. I haven’t seen it for hours.”
“How long have I been out?”
“A long time. You slept all day and night.”
The sun slanted into the hole. “I slept a whole day?”
“Pretty close.”
A whole day without the shark being spotted.
Was it possible?
Tara slipped out of view. He heard her shout, “Over here! Over here!”
The sound of a boat’s engine lulled him back to sleep.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
“You awake?”
He rubbed his eyes, sitting up in the bed.
“I am now.”
Tara slipped into the room. She wore a fluffy white robe, courtesy of the hotel.
“Breakfast is here. I had them set it up on the balcony. It’s a beautiful day.”
“I’ll be right there.”
She closed the door behind her and he got up to piss. The body slings he’d
had to wear on both arms had come off yesterday. His arms were a pair of sticks, his muscles atrophying after eight weeks in the slings. He had a lot of physical therapy ahead of him.
But it felt great to hold his own dick.
“Guess this is all part of learning to appreciate the little things,” he said, his voice echoing in the swanky bathroom.
After slowly and carefully putting on his own robe, Ollie walked to the suite’s main living area. A stack of Tara’s paperbacks were on one end of the couch, next to her gym bag. Her sneakers were on the floor, nestled under the glass top table, where Ollie couldn’t trip over them.
The sliding door to the balcony was wide open, letting in a crisp mountain breeze. It was an unseasonably warm day, but there was still a slight chill in the air. It felt amazing. Tara sat at the table, spreading marmalade on wheat toast.
“Look at you dressing yourself,” Tara said, smiling. “How does it feel?”
“Like I’m no longer a helpless baby.” He sat opposite her, shakily reaching for a small glass of orange juice.
“I told the nurse her services were no longer needed.”
“Thank you.”
The last thing Ollie wanted was for Tara to be tasked with being his nurse/helper while he recovered. She’d offered at least a hundred times, but there was no way he was going to let her feed and dress him, give him showers and least of all, wipe his butt. It was difficult enough putting himself in the hands of a nurse who had been a total stranger.
“You want the paper?” she asked.
“I’m good. No news is good news.”
“That it is. So, you want to do anything special today?”
He looked out at the trees and mountains, the sun peeking over the ridge. It was breathtaking. And best of all, there was nary a sign of water. The high-priced resort was blessedly landlocked.
“We could go to the movies,” he said.
Tara rolled her eyes. “You did that when you were laid up. Let’s do something different.”
“Like what?”
“We could go to the driving range and crush some balls.”
“At this stage, the only balls I’ll crush are my own if I bang them into something.”
Tara giggled. “Okay, I’ll crush some balls and you give them love taps.”
Ollie was never one for golf, but she’d been so wonderful, so patient, he couldn’t say no. Besides, driving ranges weren’t really golf. It was like a shooting range for old people.