Vengeance from the Deep - Book Two: Blood of the Necala

by Russ Elliott

  VENGEANCE FROM THE DEEP

  Blood Of The Necala

  ~ Book 2 ~

  Russ Elliott

  Vengeance from the Deep: Blood of the Necala (book2)

  Copyright © 2014 Russ Elliott

  Interior and Cover Graphics for the Vengeance Series

  Copyright © 2014 Russ Elliott

  www.VengeancefromtheDeep.com

  All Rights Reserved

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Second Edition 2015

  Published in the USA by thewordverve inc.

  (www.thewordverve.com)

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2014949476

  ~~~~~

  Vengeance from the Deep: Blood of the Necala (book 2)

  Cover and Interior Graphics by Russ Elliott

  www.VengeancefromtheDeep.com

  This book is dedicated to my wife Danielle

  and to my mother for always being there.

  Chapter 1

  THE SIGNAL

  Archeologist John Paxton sat silently in the passenger’s seat of the vintage Atlas Oryx military helicopter. The old craft was loud and drafty. Beside him, he could just make out his pilot, Kate, her headset and wavy black hair silhouetted against the evening sky. A glance to the right showed the hazy Indian Ocean flashing below. The light from the helicopter glided eerily over the mist. Every breath was like a punch in the face, a pungent reminder of the concoction of rotten meat and blood stowed in the cargo bay. John’s mouth was perpetually dry from stress. He was exhausted, yet his mind spun faster than the thumping rotor blades.

  Peering into the horizon, he pondered their destination, a state-of-the-art research ship, the Nauticus II.

  Will it be the break we need? In an attempt to film the elusive giant squid, the ship had been tracking four sperm whales equipped with cameras and transmitters. Knowing that whales feed on squid, the crew hoped that the whales would lead them to the object of their study. But early that morning, when two of the whales were butchered, and one of the transmitters ended up wedged in a giant pliosaur’s jaw, the expedition took a new direction. John prayed that the transmitter inside the creature was holding up.

  It has to be, he thought. Otherwise, he knew that an ambush predator, which could lay in wait on the seafloor for up to two hours, would be nearly impossible to find.

  John looked down at the tightness in his left forearm. In the fading light, he studied the myriad of scars running from his elbow to his wrist, souvenirs from his expedition to the island.

  The island, the inauguration of this cursed nightmare.

  In his mind’s eye, he went back to that hellhole three hundred miles off Port Elizabeth. He still felt the ropes around his wrists as torches and half-painted faces flashed before him. The drumbeat still seemed to pulse through his veins. He remembered how he miraculously escaped with his life, only to spend two days adrift at sea before making it back to South Africa.

  And that’s when the real battle began.

  He recalled turning on the news only to learn that he hadn’t come back alone. The creature’s swath of destruction flooded his mind, all the missing boats, the bloody footage. The face of every victim was etched into his brain. A familiar sense of guilt crept over him. But as always, the unrelenting guilt slowly manifested into the rage that now drove him. Lost in these thoughts, John stared downward at the sea.

  Kate’s voice crackled in his headset. “Wakie, wakie, we’re only about fifteen minutes from the ship.”

  ~~~

  A hypnotic blue hue radiated inside the Nauticus II’s surveillance cabin while Nemo and Nathan huddled over the tracking monitors. Their eyes were fixed on a red dot on monitor two.

  “Still eight miles out, Captain,” Nathan said, “too far to pick up a scent.”

  The red dot disappeared from the screen, and Nathan picked up the mike.

  Nemo grabbed Nathan’s hand. “What are you doing?”

  “I was going to relay the pliosaur’s coordinates to the chopper that’s on the way, like we promised them.”

  “Let’s not be too hasty,” muttered Nemo. He took the mike from Nathan’s hand. “Earlier, this Paxton was working with the Navy to destroy the creature. So we can’t be too careful.” He thought for a long moment, staring at the gridded screen. “There’s not much daylight left.” He flashed a crooked smile, “Originally, I only needed this Paxton character to bring us bait . . . but he could be of further use.” He winked and keyed the mike. “We still may get footage of this beast before nightfall.”

  ~~~

  The helicopter glided low over the water while John stared anxiously out to sea. He was pumped. They were just ten minutes from the ship. Beside him, Kate had her headset off, while struggling to work a rubber band around her hair to create a ponytail with her free hand.

  “Need some help with that?” John asked. But without her headset, Kate couldn’t hear a word he said in the noisy cockpit. John went rigid when his earphones crackled. “Do you read? This is the Nauticus II. Over.” John looked at Kate who was oblivious to the call, then pressed the headset more tightly to his ears. “We’re here, Captain! Did you pick up a signal?” he asked excitedly.

  “That depends,” said Nemo.

  John picked up on the reluctance in Nemo’s voice. “What are you getting at, Captain?”

  “Earlier, you said you were searching with the Navy . . . do you have any explosives on board?”

  John glanced back at the crate of depth charges in the cargo bay. He laughed. “Captain, I’m just an archeologist. I’m afraid the Navy isn’t big on issuing explosive devices to civilians. We were just tagging along as spotters. But we are loaded with chum.” John bit his lip, hoping the captain would buy the fib. He looked at Kate again, who was finished with her ponytail. When she finally did notice that John was on the air, she mouthed the question: Nemo? John nodded, and she slid her headset back on to listen in. John remained silent, awaiting Nemo’s answer. Finally, he heard, “All right, but do you have a camcorder onboard?”

  “Sure do,” John said with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Loaded and ready to go.”

  Kate looked at John, puzzled. She frowned and shook her head in an attempt to correct him. John held his finger to his lips: shhh.

  “Okay,” said Nemo, still with hesitancy in his tone. “We just picked up a signal about eight miles northeast of the ship. But be sure to use the chum to lure the beast up first; I want good clear footage of it. Understand?”

  Kate did a fist pump in the air. “All right,” she roared into her headset. “Now we can drop the depth charges and blast that thing back to the Jurassic!”

  John’s shoulders slumped, and he rolled his eyes.

  “Blast it!” Nemo growled. “Paxton, you lying—! You said you weren’t armed! No one’s blasting anything until I get it on film. I forbid it! This is the greatest zoological find of all time.”

  Kate was on the verge of ballistic. “Zoology my—”

  John grabbed the cord to her headset and yanked her headset off, nearly taking her head with it. Her hair tousled about her face, she looked at him in disbelief.

  John spoke frantically into his headset. “That’s just the pilot. S
he’s wound too tight emotionally. Needs some rest. Listen, Captain, I’m a scientist. I understand how you feel. Just give me the exact coordinates, and I’ll get all the film you want–”

  Kate’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t believe her ears.

  When John realized Nemo had ended the transmission, he lowered his mike. “All the film you want of its carcass, that is,” he added.

  He looked at Kate who was still giving him the eye. “Your timing is impeccable. Relax. We’re gonna blow that thing to oblivion. I was trying to make Nemo think we’re on the same team; otherwise, I knew he wouldn’t give me the coordinates, which he didn’t, but he did say eight miles northeast of the ship. At least that’ll get us close.”

  Kate grinned suddenly. “I’m impressed with your street smarts, cowboy,” she said as his intentions became clear. “Uhhh, but would you kindly return my headset?”

  Chapter 2

  NEED FOR SPEED

  Two miles east of Pearly Beach a young boy with curly, red hair, gazed through his bedroom window. Being on the second floor, he had a clear view of the ocean, twinkling against a beautiful sunset. “What a great evening to be on the water!”

  With his shoes in his left hand, Mat carefully walked down the staircase, keeping his weight close to the wall to prevent the old, wooden stairs from creaking. At the bottom of the stairs, he peered around the corner into the kitchen.

  The late sun streamed through the window as the open curtains lifted from the light ocean breeze. In front of the window, his mother hovered over the sink, preparing a late dinner for his little sister. The little blonde sat at the table, struggling to open a box of cereal.

  “Don’t open that. I’ve already fixed you something,” said their mom.

  “But I want cereal.”

  “Not for supper. Besides, that one’s not good for you. It’s loaded with sugar.”

  “But how come you buy it for us then?”

  “I didn’t. That’s the cereal your father bought for you. He knows I hate for you to eat that sweet stuff!”

  The little girl pleaded, “But Mom, it has fruit in it. It’s got to be good for you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  The five-year-old pointed to the multicolored balls of cereal on the front of the box, “See? Look, it has munch berries!”

  “Nice try, Christy.” Her mom placed a bowl of soup on the table and took the box from the little girl’s hands.

  Peering from behind the corner at the foot of the stairs, Mat looked away from where Christy sat. His eyes drifted to the window on the door beside the kitchen, where he spotted his prized possession tied to their private dock. He watched the setting sun twinkle along the red metallic finish of the speedboat. It had been a gift he received last August on his fourteenth birthday.

  When they were looking for just the right boat, his dad had insisted he didn’t get one too powerful or fast. They’d finally decided on a small inboard engine.

  A smile slowly formed on Mat’s face. But I’ve found ways around that!

  Finally, he saw the signal when Greg’s hand waved outside the window. It’s about time, Mat thought as he tiptoed across the kitchen behind his mother’s back. Just as he touched the door handle, his mother’s voice echoed behind him, “Ma-a-at! Where are you going?”

  Mat grimaced as he opened the door. “Me and Greg are going for a quick spin before dark.”

  “You mean, Greg and I!” replied his mom.

  “Yeah, sure, Mom. You can go too if you want!”

  “You know what I mean!”

  “Just kidding,” laughed Mat, stepping into the doorway.

  Her voice grew louder. “Well, this time you’d better not break anything on that boat! Because if you do, your father’s not going to pay for it. He’s spending a fortune trying to keep that thing on the water. If it breaks one more time, you’re going to get a job and pay for fixing it your—”

  “Okay, okay!” Mat quickly closed the door behind him.

  Outside, Greg laughed. “I heard that. You haven’t broken anything on the boat; what’s with the lie?”

  “So they’ll give me money.”

  “To fix the boat that doesn’t need fixing? Oh man. That’s so wrong.” Greg chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, I told her I ran across some coral and had to get the hull repaired,” Mat said as they walked further along the dock.

  “So, what did you really get?”

  Mat grinned. “A bigger carburetor and new intake.”

  “Why don’t you just ask her for the money straight up? Your folks got plenty . . . I mean, your old man is a doctor!”

  “She won’t just give it to me without a good reason. You gotta know my parents.” Mat stepped onto the red speedboat, mimicking his mother’s voice, ‘No! That boat’s too fast already!’ So last month the windshield cracked, the prop broke, and of course, the hull had to be repaired and refinished from the . . . uh . . . coral incident.”

  Greg snickered. “Doesn’t she get suspicious about your boat’s bad string of luck?”

  Mat sat down sideways in the driver’s seat and wedged his feet into sneakers that hadn’t been untied in months. “Nah, but I’ve got the engine about the way I want it. So I’ll lighten up.”

  “You’d better before she makes you get a job.”

  “Yeah, no doubt.” Mat shuddered dramatically, and they broke into hysterical laughter. With a press of the start button, the engine roared to life.

  “So, does the new carb make a difference? Can you really feel it?” asked Greg as he untied the bowline and hopped in.

  “You tell me!” Mat slammed the throttle down causing a twenty-foot rooster tail as the boat rocketed away from the dock.

  ~~~

  Staring ahead through the helicopter’s windshield, John watched the sun slip lower into the open sea. Would there be enough daylight? The familiar tingling sensation rose in his stomach. Soon, he would again be face-to-face with the pliosaur, but this was a different round. He wasn’t in an old fishing boat in the Dyer Channel, completely helpless. No, this time he was prepared; he had a way to kill it.

  He’d better get ready.

  Rising from his seat, he made his way into the cargo area and to the crate of depth charges. Searching around the floor, he picked up a crowbar. He called back to Kate, “Guess I should open these up, make sure we’re good to go!”

  Kate looked back. “Remember, before you drop one of those, if the target’s shallow, give a three-second count first, or it’ll detonate too deep!”

  John looked at her, perplexed. “You sure? How do you know that?”

  “Says so on the crate.” Kate turned back to the windshield and shouted loud enough for John to hear: “Men! Do they ever read the directions on anything?”

  ~~~

  Mat cruised across the water at about half speed, waiting for just the right moment to show Greg the boat’s full power. He saw his opportunity when another speedboat appeared in the distance. He accelerated the boat just enough to pull close.

  “Aaahhh, it’s Dr. Phillips and his young girlfriend. He thinks that boat’s so fast!” Mat pulled up closer until both boats were side by side.

  Greg cupped his hands beside his mouth. “Leeet’s get ready to RUUUMBLLLE!” he howled.

  The older man glanced over, acting as if he was ignoring the two boys, but Mat knew better. He could see the doctor’s hand slowly reaching toward the throttle. The strawberry blonde, obviously far younger than her counterpart, glanced over with a smile. Dr. Phillips’ hand then rammed down the throttle. The bow rose from the water, and the black speedboat lunged forward. Mat eased into the throttle just enough to stay side by side. He saw the girl excitedly yelling at the older man, her words muted by the roaring engines. Mat could read her lips. Faster! Faster!

  Mat shouted to Greg, “Hey, blow her a kiss!”

  Greg lifted his rear end to the side of the boat and lowered the back of his shorts.

  Mat laughed wickedly, yellin
g, “See ya!” and hit the throttle full bore. Greg fell to the deck, lily-white keister to the sky, as the speedboat became a shiny, red blur, passing the doctor’s boat. Ten feet . . . twenty feet . . . their lead continued to grow until the doctor finally veered his boat off to the right, knowing he didn’t have a chance. Mat looked back as the black boat headed in the opposite direction, but still he could see the young girlfriend laughing uncontrollably. He glanced at the instrument cluster and pulled back on the throttle. The roaring engine stopped, and the eighteen-foot speedboat slowly drifted in front of a brilliant sunset.

  “Whoa, bro! This thing pulls like your old man’s Porsche.” Laughing, Greg yanked up his swim trunks.

  “Yeah, the new carb did the trick,” Mat agreed. “But look at the temperature gage. That’s all it took to make it overheat. We’d better take it easy until I get the cooling system upgraded.” He squinted into the horizon, then picked up a set of binoculars and focused them in the same direction.

  “So, when do you think you’ll have the bucks for the upgrade?”

  Ignoring the question, Mat continued to stare out to sea. “Doesn’t look like a freighter . . . more like a research ship. Cool! I’ll bet that’s the Nauticus II. Saw them on the news last night. They’re out here searching for the giant squid.”

  “Giant squid? Errr . . . And I was considering making a dive.”

  “Relax. Usually, those squid are way out where it’s deep, really deep—over three thousand feet. Wonder why the ship is in so close? We’re only around a hundred feet, practically in the shallows.”

  Mat tossed the binoculars onto the console. “So, you ready to head back—” He froze. Forty yards off port he saw something project from the water. The tip of an enormous fin rose higher then slapped the surface. “Whoa! You see that?”

  “Yeah, the huge splash!” Greg pointed. “Come on, bro. We’ve gotta catch it. I’ve always wanted to dive with a whale shark!”

  Easing into the throttle, Mat adjusted his course until they reached the spot where they saw the splash.