From The Depths: A Deep Sea Thriller

by JE Gurley

  He heard Devers curse over the open mic. “Damn! That was close. Deploying the canisters now.” He hit the switch on the console. The MS-222 was sealed in pressurized tanks, able to quickly pump the sedative into the water in spite of the great pressure. The canisters released. Devers dropped ballast to lift the sub away from the pressurized containers for safety. A cloud of chemical drifted around the sub, obscuring the outside cameras. The Bristle worms began to stop moving as the sedative took effect. They floated in the water, easy prey for the ceresiosaurus. It swam past with its mouth yawning wide, funneling the worms into its gullet.

  “Pull out of the area and track the creature on your sonar until the sedative takes effect.”

  This time, Devers didn’t argue. Having seen the creature’s size, he was eager to leave. “Pulling back five hundred yards. I don’t want to risk losing the creature. My God, did you see the size of that thing?”

  “Something ain’t right, Devers,” Matthews called out.

  “What?”

  “The MS-222 isn’t doing anything to it. In fact, I think it just made it mad. Uh, oh. It’s coming back.”

  “Get out of there!” Knotts yelled, knowing his command was useless. The Nemo could never outrun the creature.

  “Dropping all ballast,” Devers said. Even over the speaker, his voice barely concealed his panic.

  Suddenly, the outboard camera bounced violently and went dark.

  “We lost our outboard camera and lights. Damn! One of the props is out too.”

  Knotts sat back in his seat. There was nothing he could do. Devers was fighting a losing battle to control the submersible. A loud screeching sound, like fingernails raking a blackboard erupted from the speakers.

  “We’re losing buoyancy,” Devers cried out. His face was pale with fear. “It ripped the bag.”

  “Drop everything,” Knotts yelled, “cameras, lights, Spot, everything.” He doubted that the extra weight would make that much difference. Without the diesel in the buoyancy tank suspended above the pressure cabin, they would drop like a stone. He waited in silence for Devers to reply.

  Devers looked up from the gauges. He now appeared calmer, resigned to his fate. “It’s useless, Colonel. We’re not going to make it back up. In fact, we’re taking a nose dive to the bottom.”

  Knotts’ voice broke as he said, “I’m sorry, Devers.”

  “Don’t worry about us, Colonel. Our worries will be over in a few minutes. That monster is headed to the surface fast. You had better brace yourselves.”

  Knotts reached out and pressed the general alarm to alert the crew. The klaxon sounded throughout the ship. “Thanks, Devers.”

  “Passing seventeen thousand. The metal’s groaning. It won’t be long now.” The cabin lights went dark. “Damn! I wish the lights were working. It’s a whole new world down here. I’d like to ….”

  The radio squealed once, then became nothing but static. Knotts replaced the microphone. His hand trembled as he reached out to turn off the radio. He took a deep breath. He didn’t have time for regrets. He had killed Devers and Matthews. Now, he had to try to save his crew.

  * * * *

  The Pandora, though a freighter, carried a wide array of defensive weaponry. Two .50 caliber deck guns and three GAU-type rapid-fire machine guns, carefully hidden from casual view, which gave the freighter as much punch as some Navy vessels. Knotts had hoped to capture the creature alive, but it had drawn first blood. His crew would never forgive him if he didn’t allow them to draw second blood. On full alert now, the crew manned the heavy guns. Others stood on deck with machine guns supplied by five different countries, eager for their chance at revenge.

  The sonar operator called out from the bridge, “Sonar is picking up a large object two clicks off the starboard beam, but it’s deep. Another object is directly beneath us and rising.”

  Knotts stared at the water. A second monster? Could the Pandora’s crew handle two of the creatures? As he stood there scanning the water with his binoculars, something Devers had said came to mind. He turned to the sonar operator.

  “Are you certain that it’s a second creature?”

  The sonar operator hesitated. “Well, it gets fuzzy as it gets closer. It could be a large shoal of fish.”

  Their intruder wasn’t the ceresiosaurus. It was the Bristle worms Devers had encountered. Either they had recovered from the MS-222 or there were more of them. “Damn! Tell the sub bay to make certain the pool doors are closed.”

  Even as he spoke, he heard the first gunfire from below. Almost simultaneously, dozens of Bristle worms emerged from the water around the ship. The big guns took out quite a few, but more took their place. Their claws clung to the metal hull like flies on glass, relentlessly creeping up the side of the ship. Men leaned over the rails to fire directly into them. Most of the creatures dropped back into the ocean, dead or injured, but enough managed to reach the deck to cause a panic. One crewman leaned too far over the rail and remained for too long. One of the worms grabbed him by the head and yanked him overboard. He surfaced briefly amidst several of the creatures before disappearing in a spreading pool of crimson.

  The crew held the deck for as long as they could before retreating to the hatches of the cabin or ducking companionways below decks. Most, in their haste, failed to reseal the hatches behind them. The creatures followed like bloodhounds on the scent. Knotts knew the deck was lost. They would have to fight the creatures in the passageways. His main concern was the sub bay. He went to the intercom to call the chief engineer.

  “Starnes, where are you? Answer me.”

  The intercom clicked. “This is Starnes. I’m a little busy now.”

  Knotts heard gunfire and screams in the background. “Are the bay doors closed?”

  “Negative. They were on us before we knew what was happening. They’re all over the bay now. We can’t hold them off.”

  Damn! Knotts thought. They’re all through the ship. “Get to the bridge if you can.”

  Starnes paused before answering. “Negative, Captain. These things have me cornered and all I’ve got is a .45. I’ll try one more time to close the hatch doors. Sorry, Captain.”

  The intercom went dead. Knotts didn’t try again. He knew he was soon going to lose another old friend. He had lost friends before, but that was long ago. Now, three deaths in one day were more than he could bear. A surge of anger built up in his chest, threatening to erupt through his pores like lava.

  “I may be a crippled old man, but I’ll show these things how a Marine fights.”

  He went to his cabin, pulled out the South Korean Daewoo K7 he kept under his bed, and grabbed two extra clips of 7.62 mm rounds. He descended the companionway to the next lower level. Men rushed by with weapons, but he paid them no heed. He was moving toward the sound of fighting, like a Marine. He rounded a corner and saw Bates and crewman named McCreedy kneeling on the deck firing at a worm clinging to the overhead pipes, which were bending under its enormous weight. Water cascaded onto the deck from a ruptured water pipe. He joined in firing at the creature. It finally dropped to the deck, but a second one appeared down the passageway.

  Bates leaped up from the deck and ran to the metal shop two doors down. A six foot length of steel girder suspended on a winch from the conveyor track running the length of the passageway ceiling was in front of the door, left by a fleeing metal worker.

  “Help me,” he shouted to his companion.

  The two men grabbed the rear end of the girder and pushed it toward the approaching worm. Knotts was frustrated that he could only stand and watch. As the pair gained speed, Knotts understood Bates’ plan. The heavy girder struck the worm in the head. The momentum pushed it against the wall, momentarily pinning it. Before it could escape, Bates placed the barrel of his weapon against its head and fired. Blood and gore splattered the wall and Bates, but he ignored it. He looked back at Knotts and smiled.

  “That’s how you kill the bastards.”

  The three men c
ontinued down the passageway, sealing hatches as they went, but when they encountered a hatch folded in half and forced away from its hinges, Knotts fully understood the power of the creatures. As they went down one more level, one of the worms suddenly attacked McCreedy, as it grabbed his legs from beneath the steps. He fell forward onto the steps. Before Bates or Knotts could reach him, the creature closed its jaws tighter and severed both feet just above McCreedy’s ankles. He screamed and rolled over, trying to fire his weapon at the creature, but his pain foiled his aim. Bates shoved the barrel of his M16 through the space between steps and emptied it, killing the creature. Knotts tried to staunch McCreedy’s bleeding, but the wound was too severe and the flow of blood too great. McCreedy died quickly before Knotts could apply a makeshift tourniquet. They left him lying there.

  Farther down the passageway, they spotted one Bristle worm devouring one of its injured brethren. Knotts considered letting it finish the job, but time was of the essence if he was to save his ship and crew. They poured almost a full clip each into the worms and left chunks of worm gore all over the deck. Worm gore was not the only thing staining the deck. Knotts winced when he saw trails of blood and parts of human bodies littering a junction of passageways where crewmen had been trapped and slaughtered. Firing had now become sporadic as crewmen died or ran out of ammunition. Three weapons lockers were located throughout the ship, but the attack had come so suddenly that only the men on deck had been properly armed. He came to a decision.

  “I’m going to abandon ship. We can use the deck guns to clear the deck long enough to evacuate in the life boats.”

  Bates shook his head. He rubbed his arm where some of the worm slime had landed. “Those things won’t stop coming at us long enough to load the boats. Men are trapped all over the ship.”

  “I know. I have to save as many as I can.”

  “We can’t take the nukes, and we can’t abandon ship and leave it floating.”

  Knotts nodded. “I know that too. I’ll scuttle her after we leave.”

  Bates glanced down at Knotts bad leg. “You’ll never make it out.”

  “Comes with the job.”

  “We’ll have to clear a path first. Let’s go.”

  The ship vibrated as the muffled sound of an explosion from below and toward the bow reverberated down the passageway. The lights flickered and went out. The emergency lights flashed on but quickly died. Knotts could sense rather than hear the absence of sound of the dead generator. The passageway was too dark to see his hand in front of him. He lit his cigarette lighter. In its soft glow, Bates was shaking his head.

  “That was the generator room. It looks like someone is trying to beat you to the draw.”

  Knotts thought of his crew fighting the horde of Bristle worms in the darkness and shuddered. Facing the creatures in full daylight was bad enough. The intercom was dead. He couldn’t even call to abandon ship.

  “Come one,” he told Bates, holding the lighter out in front of him to orient himself in the dark passageway. “We have to find some flashlights and get my crew off this ship.”

  “I’m not sure we can get ourselves off this ship alive,” Bates replied.

  “Crew first,” Knotts said.

  He pushed ahead of Bates and led the way down the passageway. He knew his chances of setting the scuttling charges and escaping were nil, but if he had to die, he wanted to take as many of the creatures as he could with him.

  The captain always goes down with his ship.

  18

  Oct. 30, Miss Lucy, Cayman Trench, Caribbean –

  Josh hoped Bodden’s announcement had been the ceresiosaurus on the sonar. Instead, he pointed to a blip on the radar screen. “A ship,” he said.

  “The black ship,” Germaine growled. His clenched jaw revealed his disgust. “Are they coming toward us?”

  “No. They’re dead in the water.”

  Germaine scratched his head. “What are they up to?”

  “Perhaps they are deploying the submersible,” Professor Hicks said from the steps. “If so, the ceresiosaurus may be in the vicinity.”

  “Let’s take a look,” Germaine suggested.

  Josh noted that the professor had recovered from his earlier gloom. His eyes sparkled at the prospect of a second encounter with the creature. “It will be difficult to capture it in the dark,” he said.

  “We have a spotlight,” Hicks insisted. “We can’t squander this opportunity.”

  Josh thought the professor’s zeal now bordered on recklessness. A spotlight and sonar were poor tools for pursuing a creature the size of four locomotives and an appetite for human flesh. That Germaine shared in the professor’s fervor troubled him.

  “I thought you were afraid of the black ship,” he said.

  Germaine shot him a fierce look. “I want to know what they’re up to. If their submersible is on the bottom, they can’t move. That’s good for us.”

  He reluctantly agreed with Germaine’s assessment. He nodded. “Okay. Let’s go see.”

  Elansky entered the cabin, her glass of scotch still in one hand, her rifle in the other. Her eyes probed his. He refused to glance away, but he blinked first, ending their staring war. He felt as if he were being judged. He swallowed to hide his nervousness. “I’ll man the spotlight.”

  He started out the door, but Elansky refused to budge. He brushed up against her as he pushed through the door. She leaned into him, her firm breasts rubbing against his chest. It reminded him of things he had too long neglected, like his sex life. She smiled up at him. “Don’t worry. I hardly ever bite on the first date.”

  This time he found his tongue. “I’ve been bitten before. It doesn’t hurt. Just don’t break the skin.”

  “You’re learning.”

  “We’re coming up on the black ship,” Germaine said, reminding them.

  Josh reluctantly pulled away from Elansky. “I’ll get that spotlight going.”

  As the schooner approached the looming hulk of the black ship, Josh noted that the entire ship was dark. No lights showed in portholes or from the cabin. No one was visible on the deck. He played the spotlight over the entire vessel, bow to stern. It was dead in the water, showing no lights, and making no sounds. It was a ghost ship.

  “Have they abandoned ship?” Josh asked.

  “No,” Germaine said, “The lifeboats are still in the racks.” He pointed to the four orange and white lifeboats near the stern. “But it’s sinking. See, the bow is six feet deeper than the stern. It’s got a hole in it somewhere.”

  Looking more closely, Josh noticed the slight slope to the deck. A rope hanging over the side near the bow swayed at an obvious angle. “Then where are they?”

  The silence was ominous, playing on Josh’s fears. Were they lying in wait for the schooner? Josh shook his head. No, they could easily run the schooner down or blow it out of the water with hidden weapons.

  “Maybe we had better check it out,” Germaine suggested.

  Josh wasn’t keen on the idea, but his curiosity was aroused. He eyed the twenty-foot-long rope hanging over the side. “Using that?”

  “Unless you had rather swim under and come up through the sub hatch.”

  Josh sighed. “Climbing it is then.” He looked toward Professor Hicks, who stood by the cabin door. “The professor can’t make the climb.”

  “Then you, me, Odette, and Elansky go. I’ll leave Bodden and Miguel here to watch the boat and the professor.”

  Josh turned toward the tall Rastafarian. Odette stood at the rail staring up at the ship. To Josh, he looked big enough to handle himself in an emergency. “Okay,” he answered.

  “I’ll have Bodden pull up alongside the rope and tie off. I’m going to get your shotgun. I’ll leave the Webley for Bodden. Elansky has her .45.”

  “There’s another one in my bag,” she said, rushing to her cabin.

  Germaine nodded. “Good.”

  They made one more circuit of the ship but found no one. Bodden brought the sch
ooner to a standstill just beneath the dangling rope and the two crewmen quickly lowered the sails. The only way to tie off was by throwing a rope over the bow anchor fluke protruding from the hawser pipe through which the anchor hawser traveled. Germaine proved his seamanship by lassoing the fluke with one toss. He secured the other end of the rope to a stanchion on the schooner. The waves pushed the schooner hard up against the hull, but tires hanging over the schooner’s side prevented any damage as the boat rose and fell against the hull.

  The dangling rope didn’t reach the deck. It stopped just below the main mast. They would have to climb the mast and reach out for the rope. One slip, and a hard wooden deck would catch their fall, or they could fall into the narrow gap between the schooner and the black ship’s hull and be crushed.

  “I’ll go first,” Elansky said.

  Germaine stepped back and smiled. “Be my guest.”

  She scrambled up the mast, timed her leap for the rope perfectly, and pulled herself up hand over hand to the deck above in less than a minute. Then she leaned over the rail with her pistol in her hand and signaled for them to follow her. Germaine went next. He slung the Remington over his shoulder and began climbing. He wasn’t as nimble as Elansky or as quick, but he made it up the rope with minimal effort. Josh went next. From the mast, he eyed the yawning black chasm between the schooner and the ship. He took a deep breath and leaped. He grabbed the rope with both hands but swung like a clock pendulum until he could find a purchase with his feet. Steadying his swing, he began pulling himself up the rope slowly; breathing heavily by the time Elansky helped him over the rail. He was grateful for her outstretched hand. Odette reached the ship’s deck with no problem, scurrying up the mast and rope like a cat. Once he had joined them, Josh glanced back over the railing and waved to Professor Hicks below on the schooner. The professor returned the wave and took his accustomed seat on the bench by the cabin to wait.

  The spotlight from the schooner created more shadows than it exposed. Germaine signaled for Miguel to switch it off, leaving them only the wan light of the moon to guide them. Both Germaine and Elansky carried flashlights. Josh cursed his stupidity for not thinking to ask for one. The first thing the beams of the flashlights picked out was a pool of blood with a weapon lying on the deck beside it. Empty shell casings littered the deck.