Sea Creature

by Victor Methos

  Patrick rushed to him without thinking. He hadn’t planned on swimming and had eaten two slices of pizza and a large coke. He felt bloated and slow, but he made it to his brother and took him in his arms.

  As if he had fallen off a cliff, he felt the sensation of lightness and a powerful force against his body that flung him away from shore. He had been caught in a current, and it was pulling him out to the open sea.

  The current dragged him under the surface and he held tightly to Andrew so as not to lose him. He kicked until his legs gave out but it didn’t cause him to move. He could see the surface light growing dimmer as he went farther under.

  Then it felt as if he had fallen out of a funnel into another world. The current released him and below he saw several blue sharks swimming in slow circles. Wrapping one arm around Andrew’s waist he pulled up with the other and reached the surface, gagging and coughing.

  He was alone and didn’t see the beach and rather than panic, calmness came over him. Acceptance. He held Andrew tighter, and simply watched the sky.

  They got out almost a quarter mile before some Japanese tourists in a boat spotted them and picked them up. But he remembered that feeling of helplessness before the ocean and it had never left him.

  He checked his wounds and saw that his shoulder had scabbed over but his belly looked red and irritated. It was getting infected. He touched it and burning pain rang through him.

  Patrick dipped his shirt into the sea and wrapped it around his head again.

  * * *

  60

  Ignacio sat at the stern of the boat. There were two fishing stations set up but he was in a deck chair that was bolted near the ship’s transom. Bits of foam would spit over his arms and bare legs and it felt like raindrops against his warm skin.

  There had been three men but Ignacio had taken one of their places, though he still paid him for the full trip. The other two were older fisherman with weathered faces and scarred hands from a life at sea.

  His father had been such a man. A man that believed hard work was all one needed to get by in life. He worked in one of the factories that Western companies had built because of the cheap labor in the country.

  His father had worked so hard for so long that his body gave out and he collapsed one day at the age of fifty-one and never got up again. Hard work, Ignacio decided, was to be used sparingly. It was something the ruling classes told the lower classes to make them believe that they too could one day become the ruling class, but his father had never seen enough money to own more than one pair of shoes his entire life.

  The fishermen began throwing animal entrails off the side of the boat and were already drunk, though only the smell of their breath gave them away. They had brought with them a few harpoons but they seemed as something from the past century; wooden shafts with razor-sharp steel tips. Their plan was to drag the squid to the surface and then puncture its brain.

  They had told him stories of giant squid they had killed. Red ones and white ones and purple and black. They said that they were shy creatures who would avoid men at all costs but they were seeing many of them now.

  “It will come soon,” one of them said as he sat on the transom with a beer. “It will wait until we are away from shore and other boats and then it will come.”

  “How many of these have you killed?” Ignacio asked.

  “Many. Hundreds perhaps.”

  “In the West they did not believe that such things existed until recently. I don’t think they would believe that you have killed so many.”

  “They can believe what they want to believe. My family still eats.”

  “My father told me stories about these animals. He said that they are possessed by demons.”

  The man shrugged as he took a sip of beer. “Who knows? Maybe they are. There are stories of them taking men in the night near the beach. They have had shacks built right on the sand. This was a long time ago in the time of my grandfathers. But they had shacks and there are stories of them coming close to the beach and stealing men out of open windows.”

  “Do you believe those stories?”

  “I have seen one act that it was dead when it was caught in a net. When we cut it out it attacked us and then slipped back into the sea. They are not like other animals. They are very smart.”

  “Do you believe they—”

  The radio crackled from the boat’s control center on the upper deck. Ignacio stood and climbed up the short ladder to the upper deck, which was nothing more than a place for a man to stand with a wheel, radio, throttle, and a few other devices. He picked up the radio and listened.

  “What is it?” the fisherman shouted.

  “A distress call. Turn the boat north.”

  * * *

  61

  Another night spent on the ocean, but the night was not as bad as the day. It was the sun that was going to kill him, Patrick knew. Floating on the largest body of water on earth with some of the deadliest predators in the world swimming underneath him and sunlight was going to be his death.

  But the night had brought its own dangers. Predators mostly fed at night and at one point he felt pressure underneath the raft from something swimming close by.

  The sun had only been up for what he guessed was an hour but the heat had returned. He climbed over the side of the raft and into the cool water, hanging on with one arm.

  There was splashing nearby. He turned to see a gray-brown fin coming toward him.

  “Shit!”

  He climbed back into the raft as the fin went below the surface. He sat motionless, searching the water around him. His raft began to move.

  It twirled clockwise and he felt a bulge underneath. Instinctively he pounded his fist against it and it disappeared.

  The fin appeared again a few feet away and he could see the full girth of the animal. It was a smaller shark of about four feet, its eye exploring the strange item in its realm. It came close to the raft again and Patrick yelled and bashed its snout as it approached for an exploratory bite.

  The shark thrashed to the side and darted away but its rough skin scraped the side of the raft.

  Eric sat back, his heart in his throat, and laughed.

  Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would have to fight off a shark from a raft. If someone had asked him a few weeks ago where he would be now he would’ve said on a beach with a hot chica next to him, sipping margaritas and sleeping most of the day; going out to bars and clubs and beach parties at night. Life, it seemed, did have a sense of humor.

  Something caught his attention; a sound. It was a slow hiss coming from the raft. He leaned over and examined the outer edge. A small puncture appeared where the shark had scraped.

  He put his hand over the hole and pressed tightly but he could feel the escaping air against his skin. He tried pressing his wet shirt to it, but it was no use.

  The raft was deflating.

  * * *

  62

  Mitch stood by the railing of the ship and looked out over the sea. Last night there was a measure of excitement onboard as one of the fishermen pulled something to the surface but it turned out to be the carcass of a dolphin that had drown in their nets.

  He looked up to the control center and could see Hamilton and Christopher speaking with Hamilton’s second, who really acted as the captain, second mate, and navigator as Hamilton had never sailed a ship in his life.

  Mitch had spent the morning dealing with panicked crew members. They no longer wanted to be here, even for the money. They figured there would be other voyages that paid as much but that were less dangerous.

  Mitch walked to the control center. He sat on a chair against the wall and waited until Hamilton was done speaking to his second. Christopher looked to him and walked over.

  “What is it?”

  “I need to speak to Taylor.”

  “About what?”

  “About the men that are missing.”

  “How many?”

  Four over the p
ast three days. One of the men said he heard screaming coming from a cabin last night and when he ran over the room was empty but the port window was open.”

  “These people are lazy. They probably just hopped on some lifeboats and went back to shore to spend their money on hookers and booze.”

  “I checked the lifeboats. They’re all there.”

  Christopher looked over to Hamilton who was busy discussing the day’s navigation. He wanted to go to a small island near the coast of Peru but his second was telling him that was a bad idea because of all the hidden coral near the island. More than one ship, even ships as large as these according to him, were sunk on those corals.

  “Well something happened to them,” Christopher said. “Maybe they brought their own rafts and took off?”

  “In the middle of the ocean? And why would they take off separately?”

  “Fuck, I don’t know. These people are a mystery to me. They want work desperately and then when they get it they act like they’re doing you a favor.” He glanced once more to Hamilton and then said, “I don’t want you to tell him about this.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because first off it wouldn’t matter; he’s getting this squid no matter what. But more importantly, he’ll want to go back to shore and get more men. That means more time for us out here on this fucking ship. Let him have his fun for a few more days and when the workers have had enough and are close to mutiny we’ll head back.”

  “That’s mad. We both know what this is.”

  “I just told you what it was. What you’re thinking is impossible. They don’t get big enough to pull men out of windows.”

  He stood up. “We’re being hunted. That means you too, little Chrissy.” He turned to walk out and said, “May want to keep any windows closed at night, mate.”

  * * *

  63

  The raft had deflated to the point that it was submerged. Patrick still had his feet in it though the water was up to his chest. The ocean was calm but his abdomen stabbed at him with every movement and because he had to keep moving, it had started to bleed.

  He saw the small clouds of red come up to his chest and tried tying his shirt around the wound but the blood still seeped out into the sea.

  A flock of birds that he couldn’t identify were dipping into the water some thirty feet away and they would come up with bits of flesh in their mouths.

  The raft finally became nothing more than a hindrance as it tied up his legs and prevented him from kicking. He let it go, and watched as it came to the surface and drifted away.

  He was closer now to where the birds were dipping and saw a black mass floating on the water. He thought it was an upturned boat at first and he began to stroke toward it.

  That’s when he saw the first fin.

  It was larger than the one that had scraped the raft, but more cautious. It circled around him slowly and then sped away in the opposite direction; only to appear in front of him again.

  Patrick kept his strokes as light as possible; smoothly entering the water with one arm and then lifting it slowly as the other arm slipped in. He didn’t kick and tried to keep his breathing steady.

  As he approached the boat, he saw the glistening skin and white ragged flesh that floated in the water. It wasn’t a boat; it was an animal.

  He stopped and nearly swam the other way, but saw that it wasn’t moving. The birds were tearing at the flesh and would come away with small pieces and swallow them whole. Some of them were sitting on it and tearing into it with their sharp beaks but it didn’t move.

  It was massive; easily larger than a city bus. Patrick could see the torn belly and the open mouth with the foot-long conical teeth: a sperm whale.

  Its tongue had been ripped out and all the organs were gone, but its general shape remained. He saw that the birds had eaten out the eyes.

  The carcass appeared solid and, choking back his repulsion, he swam to it.

  It smelled like rotted fish and he breathed through his mouth as he swam past the head and to the torso. He reached out and touched it with one hand. It was spongy and then solid; like Twinkies covering stone. Patrick reached up with both hands and dug into the hide. He was trying to pull himself up when he felt the scraping behind him.

  He screamed as the shark rubbed its denticles across his back, testing to see what he was. It swam out about twenty feet and then turned around, its fin slicing through the water as it came to him. Determined that he was made of something edible, it opened its mouth.

  Patrick swung his leg up but he couldn’t get a good grip with his hands. He swam up the carcass and grabbed the vacant hole where the whale’s eye had been and used it for leverage to swing his legs out of the water.

  The shark jerked away from him and bit into the whale, its eyes rolling back in its head and revealing the thin white membrane used as a shield when it fed. It swung its head from side-to-side and came away with a mouthful of hide and fat.

  Patrick pulled himself up, his abdomen burning and leaking blood over him and down the whale’s hide into the water. He lay on his back, the sun baking his already sunburnt skin, and kicked at one of the birds that came over to investigate.

  The infection was causing a fever and sweats; except that he had no moisture to leak onto his skin. He turned to one side and looked into the water. The shark had come back for another bite and Patrick could feel the vibrations as it tore away some more of the whale.

  * * *

  64

  Mitch put his ear to the door of Jane’s cabin and listened. There were no sounds and he guessed she was asleep. Quietly, he put the key into the door and unlocked it. He twisted the handle and stepped inside.

  There was pain and he went deaf as something shattered against his head. He fell to the floor as Jane dropped the remaining part of the lamp and ran out the door.

  “Jane,” he yelled.

  She ran up the corridor to the ladder and bolted up the steps. Mitch stepped out of the room, rubbing the side of his head, his hand coming away with blood.

  He ran to the ladder and up to the main deck. The sun was bright and it blinded him a moment before his eyes adjusted. He saw Jane running for the control center.

  He chased after her but it was too late. She had made it in.

  “Ah, Jane,” Hamilton said, “so good of you to appear. I was wondering where you had disappeared to.”

  “Mitch,” she said out of breath, “he locked me in my room and wouldn’t let me out.”

  “Oh?” he said, looking over to Mitch as he stepped into the control center. “Well that is troubling; troubling indeed. Well sweet girl, we’ll take care of you.”

  Christopher was sitting in a chair by the door. He stood up.

  “Christopher, be a dear and take Jane down to my quarters. I will be down shortly to ensure she is all right.”

  “I don’t want to go to your quarters. I want to speak to Patrick,” she said.

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible my dear. Patrick has left us, you see. He decided he didn’t want to be part of our little venture and took one of the lifeboats and went back to shore. We’ll drop you off there soon but for now I’m afraid you’ll be unable to contact him.”

  “What? Why would he do that?”

  “The ocean is not for everyone. It can get to some people. Get underneath their skin and make them do things they wouldn’t normally do. Like abandoning such a beautiful creature as yourself.”

  Christopher took her gently by the arm. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “No,” she said, pulling away, “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Christopher leaned in close and whispered, “He’s dangerous, just come with me now and we’ll figure out what to do.”

  Mitch watched as she was dragged out of the cabin in shock at what was happening. She had been kidnapped once already by Chileans, now by Americans. It was too much for her.

  “I don’t appreciate you doing that, Professor,” Hamilton said, riding up to Mitch.
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  Mitch stared at his beady eyes and the black sacks under them. The man was certainly dying and had the stink of death on him. Mitch thought it suited him well.

  “What can I say? I wanted her all to myself.”

  Hamilton considered him, and his face lightened. “Well that I can understand. But you must understand that everything on this ship is mine. Including her. If you wanted her you should’ve asked me.”

  “Will do next time, Cap.” Mitch looked out the door to see if anyone was near. “Mm, there is one more thing.”

  “What?”

  He considered what Christopher had said. If it was true they would go back to land that would be his chance to grab Jane and get off this ship.

  “The men that have been disappearing.”

  “Oh, that. Yes, I have been kept up to date on that. What of it?”

  “You know there was another disappearance last night?”

  “Nothing happens on this ship without my knowledge. Now what of it?”

  “Don’t you think it would be prudent to go back to shore and get more men?”

  “Nonsense. We can certainly handle an oversized appetizer. The men have no doubt fled anyhow. It’s what I get for paying them their wages up front. But I was informed they would not work otherwise.”

  “This isn’t laziness.”

  Hamilton waved him away and turned back to his second.

  Mitch stood there amazed. The old man was delusional. He had denied it to himself from the moment he met Hamilton, but there was no denying it now.

  He left the control center and went down to the engine room. Next to the engine room was a locked storage used as an armory. There was a thick padlock, but he had been given the combination to store several harpoon guns and some of the explosive devices Hamilton insisted on bringing.