by Hunter Shea
“I don’t want to turn on the lights and scare it off.”
“Yeah, but I have a eunuch’s chance in a whorehouse to hit this fucker.”
I reach for my .44.
“You will if it gets close to the surface.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
The thing was a hundred feet away and approaching fast.
“It’s almost here.”
Austin lifts up one of the lounge cushions and finds a pair of goggles.
“Still at starboard?” he asks.
I’m puzzled, too wound up by what I’m seeing on the sonar to comprehend what the heck he’s doing.
“Yeah…it’s still…why are you putting those on?”
He kicks off his sneakers and drops his shorts to the deck.
“I’m increasing my odds.”
And before I can say another word, he hops over the side of the boat and into the water.
Chapter Eight
“Austin, no!” I scream. I no longer care about keeping in stealth mode. I flip on the bank of overhead lights, including the handheld spotlight. Struggling to undo the belt around my waist, I stare in horror at the sonar as the massive shape blocks everything out.
“Get the hell out of the water!”
Vindicta is hit so hard, she’s lifted a foot off the water. The pontoons smash back with a tremendous splash.
I get the belt loose, but I’m immediately pushed back into the seat.
The creature has the bait, and it’s taking off with it.
Unfortunately, it’s taking Vindicta and me along for the ride.
“Austin.”
My heart drops into my stomach. I’m speeding away from him, somewhere under the water. If he’s still alive, he’s out there, totally exposed.
How am I going to find him if I can break free?
Vindicta is motoring like a speedboat, and the engine isn’t even on. The creature is faster than I’d ever expected, especially considering it’s tugging a boat along.
I have to cut the bait free.
Dropping to my hands and knees is the best way to keep some equilibrium. I crawl to the bow where the line is tied. I withdraw my knife, putting the handle in my teeth.
We’re heading for the northern end of the Loch, further and further from my brother.
I make it to the line, which is literally singing from the tension. I have to be careful. If I don’t cut it close, any slack will whip right back at me and possibly take out an eye.
The knife is the width of my palm and can split hairs. I take one quick swipe right by the metal loop attached to the bow, sending up sparks.
Vindicta instantly slows down.
I watch the departing wake of the creature, cursing it.
As it crosses into a bridge of moonlight reflecting on the onyx waves, I see a black hump emerge for just a second before slipping back under.
And then it’s gone.
Shit. I have to find Austin.
I scramble back and gun the engine to life. Turning Vindicta in a tight circle, I eyeball my way back to where he jumped overboard. I estimate we’ve gone at least five hundred yards.
I have to be careful. I don’t want to accidentally run my brother over, either. Even though the night is chilly, I’m dripping with nightmare sweats. My teeth chatter until it hurts. It’s hard to keep control of my hands. I’m so balled up with adrenaline and fear, I doubt I can spell my last name.
“Austin! Austin! Can you hear me?”
I throttle the engine back as I get to where I think he should be.
Please, please, please be all right.
I scan the water with the handheld spotlight.
My stomach cinches when I think, if there’s one, there could be others.
“Just shut up,” I say through gritted teeth. My jaw hurts from trying to keep them from clacking like mad.
My breath catches in my throat when I spot a lump in the water. I train the spotlight directly on it.
“Austin?”
It looks like a head.
Oh dear God.
It’s not moving.
I steer Vindicta closer, slowly, despite my desire to just jump right in.
It is a head. Part of his back is also showing.
“No, no, no, no.”
I hop over the bench so I can reach down and grab him. It’s hard to see through the tears.
My hands flutter as I attempt to get hold of the collar of his shirt. He’s so heavy, I don’t know how I’ll get him back on board.
I can’t stop sobbing.
Pulling with everything I have, his dead weight suddenly disappears.
“Miss me?”
Austin spins out of my grasp, grinning while treading water.
I fall back onto my ass.
“What?”
He lifts the spear gun, minus the spear, and hands it to me.
“I had the right idea,” he says. “I’m pretty sure I nailed it.”
“Did you…did you just decide to play dead to fuck with me?” I’m wiping back my tears, hoping he can’t see them in the dark. I want to hug him first, then kick him in the balls.
He pulls himself back onto the deck. The Loch runs off him like a waterfall. “It was a last second thing. Before I saw you coming back for me, I’ll admit I was pretty freaked out.”
I punch him square in the chest. He chuckles. I nurse a sore fist.
“It really took you for a ride,” he says. “Freaking crazy.”
“I thought you were dead.”
He slicks the water off his head with his palm. “I told you, Nessie can’t handle me. But damn, it was big. I couldn’t see much, but it made for a pretty good target. I think I got it right smack in the center of its body. At least it looked like the center.”
I shakily get back to the captain’s chair and head back toward home.
“Promise me you’ll never do that again,” I say.
“What? Shoot the damn thing?”
“You know what I mean. Being reckless won’t help us at all. That’s not the way to honor Mom and Dad.”
I see that hits home. The macho mountain of a man instantly looks like a scolded, repentant boy.
Good.
“You’re right. I got carried away. But I didn’t want to miss my chance.”
“That was just one creature, and one chance. We have a shitload of work to do and I need you in one piece to do it.”
We ride back to the boat slip in silence. I know he’s humming as much as I am.
Despite his act of stupidity, it worked again. These things are hungry as hell and reckless.
Now I know what to do tomorrow.
And somewhere out there, if Austin is right, there’s a wounded Loch Ness Monster. I wonder if the wound is enough to kill it. And if the body floats to the surface, who will be the lucky one to find it and make the discovery of the 21st century?
Chapter Nine
We slept like the dead that night.
I didn’t even have my nightmare.
Probably because I’d lived one hour before. There’s just so much a girl – or guy – can take.
I got up before Austin, who was sawing redwoods. His arm had fallen over the side of my makeshift couch and his hand was on the floor. I just missed stepping on his fingers as I crept past him to slip outside with my laptop.
It was an overcast day, with rain to come in the afternoon. This had been one of the driest springs in the Highlands in decades. No one was going to complain about a little rain. In fact, I’m pretty sure some of the locals were doing rain dances in their yards. Gardens were yielding brittle weeds and lawns were as brown as paper bags. This is not the way things are supposed to look in merry old Scotland.
I went to the Samson Butchers’ site and placed yet another order.
“You’re gonna need a bigger van,” I say, smirking at the screen.
The Nessies like beef.
Well, I’ll give them as much as they can handle.
The con
firmation page says it will take two days to deliver my order.
I click over to the weather channel website and look at the five-day forecast.
Rain and more rain.
Even better.
I want the Loch all to myself. The rain will keep a lot of people away. But those damn tour boats never stop. Too much money to be made.
A bridge to burn when I get to it.
Today is also the day for Austin’s surprise. For the life of me, I can’t figure out what he has in store. Lord knows, he gave me enough of a surprise last night when he jumped overboard like he was in some 80s action movie.
Oh, and playing dead.
Ass munch.
I brew some coffee, which wakes Austin from his coma, sit in a lawn chair, and wait for the rain.
And my big surprise.
“Yeah. Yeah. No. Umm, yeah. Everything? Good. See you soon.”
Austin disconnects the call and sits opposite me. We’re at my kitchen table, which is also my dining room table, work desk, and the best place to rest my beer.
“That sounded like a stunning conversation.”
He sits so far back in the seat, the wood cracks. He jumps up, apologizing. “Please don’t destroy the furniture, you big ape!”
“I don’t know how you do it. I almost got wedged in the shower before.”
“That’s because I’m not as wide as the shower. And neither were you last time you popped by.”
He makes a muscle, kissing his biceps. “Don’t hate the dedication to perfection.”
“Are you sure you’re Austin McQueen? He’s a kinda nerdy guy, a little unfocused.”
He points a sausage finger at me. “Hey, respect your big bro.”
I’m about to respond with a witty rejoinder when the sound of a car honking draws my attention.
As I’ve said, my RV is out where the buses don’t stop. No one comes by unless it’s for a delivery. I look outside. The rain is picking up, gray skies making it difficult to see the Loch beyond the trees.
And that’s when I see a pink minivan pull up. There’s a rainbow painted on the side door. Swaying fuzzy dice hang off the rearview mirror.
“Who the hell is that?” I say.
Austin makes me jump by grabbing me from behind and yelling, “Surprise!”
“You bought me a minivan from the gay pride parade?”
The minivan’s engine idles, smoke curling from the exhaust. I can’t make out who’s behind the wheel. Whoever it is, they’re not in a hurry to step out into the sheets of rain.
“Even better.”
He opens the RV door and waves.
There’s a quick honk in reply. Then a man steps out; square-shouldered, short blonde hair, thin as flagpole. He strides over to my brother and they shake hands, neither seeming to care that they’re getting soaked.
“Nat, I’d like you to meet my good buddy Henrik Kooper, with a K.”
I step aside so they can get inside. Henrik offers me his hand. His grip is strong. I feel callouses on his palms, indicating he’s not as frail as he looks.
“Hello, Natalie. You can call me Henry,” he says with a slight German accent.
He and Austin drip-dry on the carpet.
I look over at Austin. He just stands there beaming at Henrik.
I say, “Soooo, my brother has kind of hinted to me that you’re my big surprise. Do you strip or do a singing telegram or something?”
The tall German catches my gaze, following it all the way to his less than masculine minivan.
“Oh, that,” he says. “Camouflage.”
For what, I think, hiding out in the land of My Pretty Ponies?
“I think I’m going to need a little more.”
Austin breaks out of his trance. “Dude, take a seat. You want a beer?”
“I’d like that, yes,” Henrik says. “You have any light beer?”
Austin looks to me. I shake my head. What’s the point of beer if it has the potency of water?
“That’s fine. I’ll just drink half.”
We sit around my table sucking on bottles of Bass ale. I’m anxious to hear what the hell this is all about. “What the hell is this all about?” I ask.
Austin motions for Henrik to take the stage.
“I can understand your confusion. I know how this must look, especially now that I get the feeling your dear brother neglected to tell you anything.”
“He has a habit of doing that.”
He takes a pull from the long neck. “Well, your brother and I met at a convention in Cologne almost two years ago.”
“That’s when I was working for that publisher,” Austin interjects.
Henrik nods. “I worked for a German publisher at the time. They specialized in non-fiction books about preparedness.”
“Preparedness?” I say. “Preparedness for what?”
“Oh, just about anything – nuclear holocaust, military coup, widespread power loss, pandemics. They published a great many books, with translations in over twenty languages. Uncertain times make people anxious. And when they get anxious, they tend to look further than the tip of their nose.”
I rub my temple. “Okay, so you guys are at a book convention.”
Henrik smiles warmly. He looks like the world’s most compassionate doctor. I can easily picture him in a white, oversized lab coat, a stethoscope draped around his neck.
“Yes, well, as you can imagine, there’s more play than work at these events. One night, over one too many cosmopolitans, Austin tells me what happened to your parents.”
“He did what?”
I rise from my seat, glowering at my brother. We swore we would never tell anyone the truth after we’d been utterly dismissed by the police and our own family. Why the hell would he tell a total stranger at a book convention?
“Calm down, Nat. It’s okay,” Austin says.
“Your secret is safe with me. It has been safe with me. You see, he only told me once he found out that I wasn’t just an editor. I’m well versed in most of the books I’ve worked on. I’ve been a, how do you Americans call it, a prepper all my life. I’m especially adept when it comes to weaponry.”
I sit down only because Henrik and Austin look so sincere. I can see they’re concerned about the sense of betrayal I’m feeling at the moment.
“He wants to help us,” Austin says.
“Help us? With what?”
I finish my beer in one savage swallow.
Henrik flashes that smile again.
“To avenge your parents. You do want to kill what people call the Loch Ness Monster, do you not?
Chapter Ten
So, the cat’s not only out of the bag, it’s running around the RV like its tail is on fire.
Hearing Henrik say it out loud almost makes it sound absurd.
Almost.
I start, “Look, Henrik –”
“Please, Henry.”
He’s so calm, it’s unbalancing my agitation.
“Henry, I don’t know who you really are. I have no idea what your motivations are. You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t get up and do a happy dance that my brother has made our lifelong pursuit a threesome.”
Austin winces. “Please don’t say the word threesome when you refer to me. You’ll ruin the whole concept.”
I ignore him.
Henrik…Henry and I are in a bit of a stare down.
I decide I like Henrik better.
He’s looking back at me with crystal blue eyes filled with something that looks irritatingly close to pity.
He reaches across the table to touch my hand, but I pull back.
“I know exactly what you’ve gone through,” he says in a voice soft as melted butter.
I get up and turn my back to the both of them, starting out the front windshield of the RV. The rain hammers it with steady pelts.
“I lost my father in a similar way when I was just five years old,” Henrik says.
I look over at him. There isn’t a hint of sa
rcasm on his face. Even Austin looks unusually subdued.
“What? How is that even possible?”
“Your brother and I found each other for a reason. You see, my father was a big game hunter. He made a living as a tour guide for other hunters, taking them on specially charted expeditions all around the world. He took my mother and me along with him on a trip to Indonesia. You have to understand, that was a very rare occurrence. These were hunting junkets. Very macho stuff. They were no place for a woman and child. But he’d been there many times before and was in love with the country. He was going to show us all the unusual sights once the hunting expedition was over. Unfortunately, he didn’t live long enough to do so.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say, wondering how a guy dying in a hunting accident was anything like watching your parents murdered by a lake monster.
Henrik pauses, staring at his beer bottle.
Austin nudges him with an elbow. “Tell her the rest, bud.”
When he looks up, I see the faint shimmer of tears in Henrik’s eyes. The pain is still very much there, even though it must have been thirty or more years since he lost his father.
I fully understand not being able to overcome the grief, to just let go.
“My father took us deep into the interior. We camped in a clearing that was said to be in proximity to the lost city of Gadang Ur. Now, there was no way to confirm this, as the ancient city is still quite lost, but my father had gathered enough information from the locals to feel we were close. The reasons for going to that location were twofold: there was the possibility of making a great discovery, and any place that had been hidden from human eyes for millennia would be rife with worthy game.
“I remember being frightened by the darkness and absolute silence. It felt as if we were in a place where man wasn’t meant to be. For a boy who lived in the city, it felt alien. One night, there was a disturbance in our camp, which immediately put us on alert on account of the preternatural quiet of the surrounding jungle. It sounded like a stampede. But there were voices as well. Not in any language we could discern. My father grabbed his rifle and burst from our tent. I slipped from my mother’s grasp and followed him. I was both scared and painfully curious.”