Menace From the Deep

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Menace From the Deep Page 3

by Michael P. Spradlin


  “Then what in the heck is this thing?” Dr. Doyle asked.

  “That’s a very good question,” Dr. Geaux said. “Welcome to the team.”

  She looked at Emmet and Calvin. “Calvin, why don’t you take Emmet down to the dock, maybe take him and Apollo for a spin in our airboat. Dr. Doyle and I need to talk.”

  FROM A COMPOUND HIDDEN NEAR THE NORTHERN EDGE of the Everglades, a man sat at a bank of computer screens and monitors. The building was prefabricated and set deep into the swampy soil. Construction crews he flew in illegally from South America brought the structure here in pieces. Once it was assembled he sent them back home. And from his secret hideaway, his work began in earnest. It was from here he set out to stop the destruction of the Everglades.

  No one would ever find this place. The building was dark concrete and the outside walls and roof were covered with native vegetation. The roof was too thick for heat to escape, and the power came from a place no one would ever suspect, more than a mile away. He used specially designed waterproof cables to carry the electricity beneath the swamp to his compound. Even if someone were to uncover the deeply buried cables, it would still be a Herculean task to trace them this far. At night, two wind turbines emerged from specially built shafts at the rear of the building and wind energy generated power to backup batteries that could keep the compound running for nearly three days, should the generators go down. Long enough for him to fix the problem or evacuate to a backup location much like this one but in a place just as hard to find.

  The building held three rooms. A computer room and monitoring station where he sat now, a small sleeping room with a kitchenette, and his lab. The lab was the largest section of his base, where his instruments and specimens were kept. It was here he did his work. His divine mission. Making Mother Nature whole again. Saving the Everglades from not only the ravages of man but also the invasive species destroying the ecosystem.

  On the monitor in front of him, he watched a split screen. One image showed Dr. Geaux and the new scientist; she called him Dr. Doyle. He ran an Internet search about this new man, sending pages and links to his tablet to be read later. Know your enemy. They were examining the carcass of one of his creations. It was an unfortunate accident to lose one of his pets. He was desperate to figure out what had happened and it was just bad luck that a park ranger stumbled upon the corpse before he could retrieve it.

  Now he watched Geaux and Doyle as they examined the animal he created. He slid a knob on the panel in front of him and brought up the audio. They were discussing x-rays and Dr. Doyle was studying the skeletal structure. “Fascinating,” he heard Dr. Doyle say.

  He watched as they worked and exchanged ideas, laughing at some of their theories and suggestions. But he could not afford to be smug. He was not above realizing there were other brilliant minds out there. If someone put the pieces together, his entire plan could collapse. Luckily, unknown to Dr. Geaux, he had access to Everglades Park HQ. If she knew who he really was, she would be shocked. And that access allowed him to place hidden video cameras and recording devices all over the NPS headquarters. It was one way to stay ahead of them. Leaning back in his chair, he massaged his neck muscles. He slept only four hours a night. His mission demanded it. He could not allow human weakness to interrupt his work. Another image on the monitor caught his eye. The two boys arrived at the facility with the doctors. Outside the NPS lab, they walked along the wooden dock to where the NPS airboats were parked. The Doyle boy led a small black dog on a leash.

  He watched as they reached a smaller airboat at the very end of the line. He knew this was Dr. Geaux’s personal craft. After monitoring her activities for months, it was clear she was a total by-the-books superintendent, and would never allow the boy to use an NPS boat. They boarded, and her son expertly started it up and it backed away from the dock.

  This was interesting. He grabbed the keys to his own airboat, also hidden from sight next to the compound. Dr. Geaux gave permission for the boys to head out on their boat and explore the swamp. It would be dark soon. They would be alone.

  Perhaps this interruption to his plan could be rectified.

  DR. DOYLE WAS CONCERNED ABOUT THE BOYS GOING ON the boat alone, but Dr. Geaux reassured him.

  “Calvin has been piloting an airboat since he was six years old. He’s probably the best Everglades guide in the state under eighteen,” she said.

  Emmet could tell his dad was about to say no, when he gave him a pleading look. “Dad!” he said. “It’ll be fine. We won’t be gone long; I’m sure Calvin knows how to drive a boat.”

  “Pilot,” Calvin said.

  “Huh, what?” Emmet asked.

  “You pilot a boat. Not drive it.”

  “Oh. Dad. Please, may I go on a boat-piloting trip with Calvin? Then you can get all scientisty and stuff with Dr. Geaux,” Emmet begged.

  His dad could be so thick sometimes. This was one of those times.

  “I don’t suppose it could hurt,” Dr. Doyle said, looking at his watch. “It’s going to be dark soon, though, so be sure to be —”

  “Great. Have fun with your … whatever it is you’re going to do. C’mon, Apollo. Boat ride.”

  With Apollo in tow, they exited the lab and walked along a gravel-covered path that led deeper into the trees. About a half mile behind the compound they came to a dock with several NPS boats secured to it. At the end was a smaller, sleeker airboat. There were two seats in the front and another behind those, where the pilot sat and operated the motor and tiller. Behind the pilot’s seat was a large fan, enclosed in a metal frame. Emmet had seen airboats on television and knew the fan would spin and the air it pushed would propel the boat, skimming across the water. Usually at a high rate of speed. Painted on the side was DRAGONFLY 1. And Calvin was surprised by how much it did remind him of a dragonfly.

  “I don’t know a thing about boats, obviously. But that thing looks incredibly fast,” Emmet said.

  “It is,” Calvin said.

  “Look, I know your mom suggested this. If you don’t want to go out, it’s cool,” Emmet said.

  “No, it’s fine. I’ll take any excuse to go out on the water.”

  “Will Apollo be okay or should I leave him with my dad?”

  “He can come. Most dogs seem to enjoy it,” Calvin said.

  The boat was secured in its slip, with two lines around wooden posts fore and aft. When they stepped on board it bobbed gently in the water. Emmet was amazed at how clean and spotless the inside of the boat was. Everything fit neatly in a holder, nook, or cranny.

  On the dashboard next to the pilot’s seat was a clear plastic sheath with a card inside it. Calvin removed it, and the felt marker attached to it with a clip. He wrote some information down on the card.

  “What are you writing?” Emmet asked.

  “It’s our ‘float plan.’ I’m recording the date, time, and number of passengers, and where I intend to go and when I expect to be back. If we have engine trouble or some kind of emergency where we have to leave the boat, it will give a rescue party the information they need to help coordinate a search,” Calvin explained.

  “Um. Excuse me for asking, but do you have engine trouble and have to leave the boat very often?” Emmet asked.

  Calvin scowled. “Never. It’s just a precaution. Something my dad taught me. Cast off fore and aft, if you don’t mind.” Emmet wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but he’d seen some TV shows and movies where “cast off” meant to take the ropes off the pilings attached to the dock. Calvin started up the engine and it growled to life. When the radio came on, he spoke into the microphone.

  “NPS base, this is Dragonfly One, come in,” he said.

  “Dragonfly One, I read you five by five. That you, Calvin?” a voice on the other end answered.

  “Ten-four, Manny, how you doing?” Calvin said.

  “I’m great, my man. You going out?” Manny said. Emmet thought he sounded like one of the happiest people he’d ever heard.


  “Roger that, Manny. A quick trip. Just out to Hawkins Flats and back. Anything I should know? How’s the weather?”

  “No worries, Little Papi, we might get some showers tonight, but it looks clear for now. I don’t have anybody showing on the board in that area, but you know that don’t mean anything. Not everybody is as good about filing their float plans as you are,” Manny said.

  “I learned from the best,” Calvin said.

  “Roger that, Little Papi. Check in when you get back. You got the battery on the GPS charged?”

  “Ten-four, Manny, you do know who you’re talking to, right?”

  “Had to ask, my man. You be careful,” Manny answered back.

  “Ten-four, Dragonfly One out,” Calvin said.

  Calvin slipped the microphone into its slot on the side of the radio console.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “As I’ll ever be,” Emmet answered.

  Emmet sat in one of the front seats and strapped in. Apollo jumped into the seat next to him and he wrapped the leash tightly around his wrist. Calvin reversed throttle and the boat backed away from the dock. When it was clear, he pushed the tiller to the left and Emmet felt a little jolt as the craft took a small leap forward.

  Working their way out toward open water, Calvin kept the airboat at a slow cruising speed, the engine rumbling as they left the NPS compound behind. When they were out of the “No Wake Zone,” Calvin hit the main power for the fan and opened the throttle. Emmet was catapulted back into his seat.

  The huge fan started spinning and the boat skimmed across the water like the dragonfly it was named for. Emmet was shocked at the speed, and the loudness of the fan. Apollo sat up in the seat and put his face into the wind, the smells of the swamp assaulting his nose, and he appeared to enjoy every second of it. There was much more open water than Emmet expected. He’d pictured a swamp as a place overgrown with strange plants, big dark trees covered in moss blocking out the sunlight, and full of scary animals. Well, with that “whatever the heck it was” lying in the lab, they apparently had the scary-animals part covered.

  But as they skimmed across the water, the wind whipping through his hair, Emmet was amazed at how it continued to surprise him. There were plenty of trees — cypress and mangrove and other kinds he didn’t know yet. And every species of bird he could imagine: herons, egrets, and even an osprey soaring high on the wind currents. He thought it was the biggest bird he might ever have seen. And that included all the bald eagles he’d seen in Montana.

  Expectations. His mom always told him to keep an open mind. If he did so, “people and places would surprise you,” she would say. And he was surprised. His mom and dad loved the outdoors and passed the love on to him. He couldn’t say the Everglades were more beautiful than Montana, just beautiful in a different way.

  They approached a spot where a small island rose up out of the water. Calvin cut the engine and the boat slowed. Emmet couldn’t help but think of the little lump ahead of them as an oasis, only instead of in the desert, it was in the middle of a swamp. The boat floated until it bumped against the sandy shore.

  Calvin undid his harness and passed between Emmet and Apollo, tying the line securely to the root of a mangrove tree. He stepped out of the boat over the bow, onto the shore.

  “So what do you think?” he asked Emmet.

  “It’s not what I expected. But it’s pretty awesome in its own way,” Emmet said. “Um. What are we doing now?”

  “Thought you might want to take a stroll around this little island. See some of the birds and wildlife,” Calvin said.

  “Stroll. Okay. Like, just take a walk around?” Emmet asked.

  “Yep.”

  Emmet sat in the boat. Apollo was poised, trembling, on the edge of his seat, his nose working the air. He was desperate to jump out and follow Calvin, and give the island a good smelling-over. Emmet looked to the left and right and then over Calvin’s shoulder as if he were studying the interior of the island and counting the mangrove and cypress trees.

  “Is there a problem?” Calvin asked.

  “Oh, no. No problem. Well. Yes. No. I don’t … maybe,” Emmet stammered.

  “And that would be …” Calvin waited.

  “Alligators. Just wondering if there might be alligators on this island, is all. Or actually … if there are any nearby right now. In the immediate vicinity. Of us?”

  Calvin kept a straight face. He put his hand over his eyes, as if shading them from the sun, and studied the horizon in both directions. Squatting, he picked up a handful of sand, smelling it first, and then letting it dribble to the ground. A small clump of grass poked out of the ground by Calvin’s foot and he pulled out a few strands, threw them up in the air, and watched the direction they were carried by the breeze.

  Emmet was dying of curiosity.

  “Is that some kind of way to test if alligators are around?” Emmet asked.

  Calvin nodded yes. Then smiled. “No. I have no idea if there are alligators close by. This is the Everglades. They’re all over the place. We’ll be fine. We just make noise when we walk, it will scare them away. Come on, you’ll like it.”

  “Oh, so funny,” Emmet said. Guy thinks he’s a comedian, he thought.

  Calvin stood and started walking along the shore. “Did you know gators can hear, see, and smell way better than humans? A mama gator can hear her babies squeaking inside the eggs when they’re ready to hatch. They’ll either hear us coming and leave, or see us before we see them. And they stay close to the water. So don’t worry.”

  Emmet stood in the boat and tightened his grip on Apollo’s leash. They stepped over the bow and onto the shore. Emmet grimaced as he followed Calvin.

  “Smart aleck,” he muttered.

  “Seriously. We’ll be fine,” Calvin said. “You’ll see. Unless we stumble across a nest and the cow is around. That usually doesn’t end well.”

  “Wait. What?” Emmet said, his stomach lurching.

  But Calvin disappeared through a tangle of mangroves. Apollo strained at the leash to follow after him. Emmet gave his traitorous dog a glare.

  “Wise guy,” he said. And the two of them followed Calvin into the trees.

  LIKE THE COMPOUND DEEP IN THE SWAMP, THE MAN’S airboat was also specially constructed. It was powered by an electrical motor, with an alternate gasoline one, and the composite plastics and fiberglass of its hull made it both lighter and nearly indestructible. The newly designed motor could run for up to eight hours on battery power, and because of the decreased weight from its hull it was faster and more maneuverable than any boat operating in the swamp. The electric motor was quiet, allowing him to navigate in near silence. In an emergency he could switch to the gas-powered motor and speed away from any unexpected danger.

  His compound, the boat, all of it was part of his carefully orchestrated plan. He was not a fool. There would be those opposed to his method. Geniuses and revolutionary thinkers like him were always misunderstood and cast as villains, at least at first. Undoubtedly there would be those who would try to stop him if his plans were revealed. Dr. Geaux and the bureaucracy she worked for would look down on his solutions, of that he was sure.

  Let her. Let them. He did not care. He would not stop.

  His beloved Everglades would be saved. He was at a critical point now and that was why losing his specimen was so distressing. It came at the worst possible time. Then it became a bigger problem when the corpse was discovered and delivered to Dr. Geaux. Somehow he must reclaim the body and find a way to regain control of the situation. Something to draw Dr. Geaux’s, and her new cohort, Dr. Doyle’s, attention away from the project. It might give him the window he needed to recover it.

  His boat flew across the water. On the screen before him the small blip showed the location of the craft the two boys were in. It stopped at the small island that stood at the mouth of Anhinga Creek, where it emptied into the Taylor Slough. It was spring, and the water was still high in the slough, so he shoul
d have no trouble piloting his boat. Come summer, the water often dried up, making it impossible to travel even by airboat. The boys were probably exploring the island, as he had done when he was their age. It was a risk moving about in the daylight like this. But it was one he must take. His boat traveled the distance to the island in a few minutes.

  The two long wire cages at the bow of his twenty-foot craft were not empty. Inside were two of the Pterogators created in his lab. They were among the very first to hatch after he perfected the gene-splicing and DNA-sequencing techniques that led to their creation. It was an amazing accomplishment, turning back the evolutionary clock. Someday he would likely be awarded a Nobel Prize.

  But not quite yet. Now there was more work to do. Slowing the boat as the island came into sight, he approached from the west. Through his binoculars he studied the airboat and the shore. There was no sign of the boys, or the dog. They were likely on the far side now. Still, he needed to work quickly, and he expertly maneuvered his boat next to the Dragonfly 1. They collided with a gentle thump. Quickly he stepped onto the smaller boat. Kneeling behind the pilot’s chair, he lifted the access panel to the engine compartment. After disconnecting the spark-plug wire and removing the fuel line, he shut it and unplugged the microphone from the radio, tossing it onto his boat. The Dragonfly 1 was now powerless and couldn’t call for help. He didn’t know if the boys carried cell phones, but there was nothing he could do about that.

  Returning to his boat, he pushed a button on his tablet computer and the side gates on the cages opened. His two lovelies were released. They crawled out of the cages and onto the sandy shore of the island. He watched them move with great satisfaction. His scientific training had taught him not to give animals human characteristics, but he could not resist and had named them Hammer and Nails.

  They were specially bred to hunt the large snakes devastating the Everglades. He was reasonably sure they wouldn’t harm the boys. But it would give them a good scare. And if he was lucky, once she learned of it, Dr. Geaux would close down the park, giving him free reign to save it. To be the catalyst for the change needed to save the environment.

 

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