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

by Russ Elliott

  John slowly rose, panting in shock. He couldn’t believe he was alive. Through the corner of his eye, he saw the woman slog onto the dark shore. He looked up at the vast reptile. The creature paused, its head tilted sideways in the moonlit shallows. Enormous flanks swelled and dropped with each breath while waves crashed around its tremendous girth.

  Seawater gushed out from between huge, interlocked teeth.

  A red eye stared at John. It’s deciding whether to keep fighting or give up, John thought, convinced of the pliosaur’s ability to rationalize. Then the head arced, the huge forefins thrust forward, digging, and pulling its bulk farther into the shallows. One final attempt . . . in vain.

  John stood frozen in terror, burning with rage. The pliosaur swung its jaws in front of him––stretched them open––and unleashed a deafening roar.

  ~~~

  Inside a bamboo shack on the beach, a black man with long dreadlocks stopped planing a surfboard. Pulling the coils of hair back from his face, he peered through the open window of the hut.

  More inland, behind a seafood restaurant, a young black boy emptying trash into a dumpster stopped abruptly. On the other side of the chain-link fence, a black couple froze on the sidewalk.

  All eyes stared toward the sea.

  ~~~

  The monster glared at John as if daring him to take another step. Its guttural growl shook the sand beneath his feet as the hot stench of its breath enveloped him.

  John stood his ground. Still the huge orb remained fixed on him. It was the same chilling stare he saw after rescuing the speedboaters—a taunting gaze as if the beast was appalled that someone would dare interfere. Behind John, he heard the sound of a helicopter landing on the beach.

  After a long moment, the colossal head swung sideways, and the pliosaur thrashed its way into deeper water. Froth sprayed up behind its rear paddle fins.

  Finally able to look away, John turned to look for the woman. A young man ran up to him. Eyes bugging, the man pointed as if demanding an explanation of the monstrosity heading back out to sea.

  John muttered in passing, “You might want to stay out of the water for the next couple of days.”

  Struggling across the sand, he noticed more people appearing out of the shadows of the beach. And that’s when he heard the screaming. A young woman was crying hysterically in the shallows, as a man struggled to pull her back onto the beach, attempting to console her. Breaking away from the man, she ran up and latched onto John. She was the splitting image of the woman he’d just rescued, maybe twenty years younger. “Did you see an older man?” she pleaded desperately. “My father . . . he was with her . . . fishing?”

  Her words fell on John like a ton of bricks. Hearing no answer, the young woman slowly slid down his body and dropped to her knees, inconsolable.

  Eyes wide, John could only back away as the young man ran up to help her. The sound of the thumping rotor blades finally brought John out of his shock. Just ahead, he saw Kate’s helicopter perched on the dark beach.

  ~~~

  John slid inside the helicopter, soaking wet, a glazed look in his eye.

  Kate could tell he wasn’t all right. “That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen in my life!” She looked at his eyes. “What’s wrong, John? You saved her . . . she’s okay!”

  “She wasn’t alone . . . on the pier.”

  Kate leaned closer, her voice stern. “Listen to me. You saved her. There was nothing else you could have done. Nothing!”

  He didn’t hear a word as he frantically scanned the windows. “Where is it?” he said between breaths. “Do you still have a visual?” He turned to her, his eyes burning with fury. “Let’s go . . . take ’er up. Now!”

  Kate was taken back. She’d never seen him like this. She twisted the throttle. “I lost sight of it. Last thing I saw was the frill headed south, back out to sea.” She glanced through the side window at the beach. “What about her?”

  John was stunned, still taking it in. “She’s okay. Still, I-I’ll call an ambulance for her,” he muttered in a monotone voice.

  “I already did,” Kate said. “I also relayed our coordinates to the admiral. The demolition squad is on the way.” She glanced at him. “Don’t worry . . . we’ll find it!”

  ~~~

  Lifting off, he watched the woman he’d rescued embrace her daughter as more people appeared out of the shadows to help them. The way they were talking and pointing at the water told him they’d seen it all. He muttered blankly, “If we’d only gotten here sooner.”

  He did a double take. And it slowly sank in . . . the people were pointing . . .

  It’s still there. An uncontrollable shudder went through his body.

  The chopper flashed over the pier, and there the creature was, its long frill gliding into view.

  “Got it!” Kate said, twisting the throttle.

  Drawing closer, the light swept across the frill and the massive shadow beneath. Patches of fog muddied the view. Kate swooped down closer, keeping pace above the enormous silhouette.

  John hurried back to the cargo bay. He glanced through the doorway to check the beast’s position. The giant head rolled to one side and a red eye broke the waterline, looking up through the mist. And there it was again, that same taunting stare. Oh yeah. You keep looking, you piece of . . .

  John lunged for the crate. Pulling out a depth charger, he swung the awkward object to the doorway with fury. Wind pounded in. He glanced once more below.

  He saw nothing but fog.

  Kate played the light over the area.

  The creature was gone.

  ~~~

  Lowering the walkie-talkie, Nathan leaned back against the doorway of the ship’s surveillance cabin. Releasing a long breath, he stared out into the dark hallway.

  Erick raced up to him, wide-eyed. “So what happened? Did they get the dinosaur?”

  “Kate said they saw it, but it slipped away. She didn’t seem to want to go into detail.” Turning back to the cabin, Nathan paused, staring at the blue hue emitted from the doorway. “It’s been over an hour . . . if we could just pick up another signal . . .”

  Erick wandered out farther into the dark hallway. “Why’s it so quiet out here?”

  “What?”

  The boy stopped curiously at the closed door beside the surveillance cabin. “Isn’t this the room with the generator? It’s usually so loud I can’t sleep in the next room.”

  Nathan swung open the door. “Oh crap!” To his horror, he found that the generator powering the surveillance equipment had shut off. Running over to the old engine, he dropped to his knees. He waved to Erick. “Hurry, go back and get my toolbox.”

  Erick started to run and paused. “That’s gonna be kinda hard.”

  “No,” Nathan said. “Not the one you tossed overboard; I have a smaller one. It’s in my cabin under the bed.”

  As the boy disappeared through the doorway, Nathan’s eyes darted over every nook and cranny of the twenty-year-old engine.

  Chapter 7

  MASQUERADE

  In the wee hours of the night, twenty-two-year-old Amy Richards lay fast asleep in the main cabin of her husband’s Sea Ray. Black satin sheets bathed in moonlight from an open window outlined her shapely figure. The sound of the sea whispered to her.

  A splash outside caused her to stir. She reached over groggily to her husband’s side of the bed and discovered she was alone. Slowly waking, she slid out from beneath the sheets in a black teddy and a pair of panties. She noticed her purple bikini at the foot of the bed, thought of changing into it before going on deck, then decided to go as is. Adjusting her lingerie, Amy crept toward the doorway. Her long, blond hair shimmered as she passed the cabin window.

  Entering the galley, the ocean breeze whipped her hair in front of her face. When she pulled it back, she noticed the red blinking light on the console. “I knew it . . . they’re at it again.”

  She stepped through the doorway and out onto the stern. Her husb
and, Chris, a powerfully built man in his thirties, and cohort, Gary, were at the transom. They were peering down into the dark water. Chris turned around. His lean abdomen and denim pants were slick with blood.

  “Sleeping beauty awakes!” he announced with a grin. “I haven’t thanked you yet, hon . . .the way you handled things when that old chopper hovered over us, putting the top on the bait bin and sitting on it in all your loveliness, then giving your innocent little wave.” He chuckled and winked at her. “A brilliant performance. You might make it as an actor yet.”

  Gary laughed, his orange life jacket covered in blood. “Yeah, and the “filleted tuna on the deck” bit fools ’em every time. They just think we’re out here fishing for yellowfin. They don’t know it’s our bait fish!”

  “I almost regret doing it,” Amy protested. “I’m telling you, one of these nights you’ll get caught.”

  Chris eased back against the transom. “Well, this ain’t that night, hon, and they weren’t the Navy. In case you didn’t notice, that chopper had a set of shark jaws painted on it.” He cursed the night sky with a raised fist. “Bloody activists!”

  There was a sudden commotion in the water. Turning around, Chris waved excitedly to Gary.

  Oh no! He’s got another one! Amy stepped back to the doorway, barely able to watch.

  Gary glanced at his dive watch. “Think we can beat our last time?”

  “Let’s go for it.”

  Chris’s muscular back rippled as he yanked in the line while Gary reached over the stern with a meat hook. Wrestling the eight-foot hammerhead onto the deck, Gary sliced off the creature’s dorsal fin and lobbed it into the bait bin.

  Chris muscled the shark around until its white underbelly faced upward. Planting a boot on the squirming shark’s throat, he sliced off the pectoral fins while Gary lopped off the tail. With an underhanded toss, the severed fins flew across the deck and landed in a bait bin with the others, their bloody edges glistening in the moonlight.

  Next, the two pulled the finless shark up to the side of the boat. Holding the helpless creature on the gunwale, Chris plunged his knife into its underbelly and opened it up from throat to tail. Then they rolled the bloody carcass back into the sea.

  Gary clicked his watch. “Yyyes! Beat our best time by three seconds!”

  Chris high-fived him. “An Indy pit crew’s got nothing on us, bro.”

  Amy was appalled, her face contorted in disdain. “Disgusting. You’ve made a sport of your butchery.”

  Chris turned around. “Don’t look at me like that was a puppy!” As usual, his tone was defensive. “Besides, that shark didn’t feel a thing! You saw how I sliced it open so it would die quickly. Some guys just fin ’em and toss ’em back over, letting them die from asphyxiation. At least I make it quick.” Chris turned from Amy and looked over the side rail, down at his handy work.

  Amy could only imagine what he was watching. She had only seen the hideous sight once, but now, in her mind’s eye, she could see all too well the descending shark squirming and rolling in a cloud of its own blood. Who does he think he’s kidding? She knew Chris could care less about any shark’s suffering, but merely used the extra blood in the water to draw more sharks to the boat.

  “It’s just looks so cruel!” Amy said in a whisper. “The suffering.” Chris wiped his bloody hands on his pants. “Babe! How many times do we have to go over this?”

  “But you said you’d quit after we got married. The honeymoon was six months ago . . . and look at you!” Amy planted her hands on her hips. “Besides, Dad’s getting wise to all this. He keeps asking how an ex-lifeguard who owns a small bait shop can live the way we do.”

  “Lighten up,” Chris gasped. “Besides, I don’t kill a fraction of the sharks those Japanese tuna ships do when they pass through here. With those long lines, they land more sharks in a day than I do in six months. Look, Hong Kong alone buys seven million pounds of fins per year . . . and hon, it ain’t all coming from me!”

  Gary looked up from the bait bin. He shouted to Amy, “On your way out, did you notice if the switch is on. . . the flashing red light on the console?”

  “You mean your death switch? Afraid so. I saw it flashing.”

  “Death switch,” Gary grinned. “I like that.”

  “No, no,” Chris said, also grinning, “you mean money switch!”

  They high-fived again. “You’ve got that right, bro! That underwater frequency device you rigged up really draws them to the boat. It’s like a shark magnet. Check it . . . we’ve already got over thirty fins.”

  “And the frequency isn’t very strong. Doesn’t have to be.” Chris walked proudly to the bait bin. “Hammerheads can detect an electrical field as low as a millionth of a volt.” He looked down into the bin, resting his hands on the sides. “But after that last surfer attack near J-Bay, I’m starting to get a little nervous. Already the locals are talking about thinning out the shark population. If that happens, bro, we’re gonna have lots of competition out here.” He looked across the night sea. “So I guess we’d better get ’em while we can!”

  Gary slapped him on the back. “Yeah, but those old school guys don’t have technology on their side!”

  Chris laughed. “Got that right; nothing like a competitive edge!”

  Amy scoffed. “Listen to you two. You act like this isn’t illegal!”

  “That’s a good point you make!” said her husband. “So get your cute little gava to the helm, and keep a lookout so we don’t get caught!”

  Gary nodded, his eyebrows waggling. “Cute little gava is right.”

  Chris noticed Gary checking out his wife in her panties. Moonlight glistened off her tanned skin beneath the short teddy. “Hey, man. What do you think you’re looking at?” Chris then turned on Amy. “And you . . . what are you thinking, coming out here like that? Put some clothes on.”

  Amy gave a taunting smirk. “But you always liked the way your friends looked at me before we were married.”

  “Did you not hear me?”

  “Okayyyy.” Amy scowled at her husband. She looked along the blood-smeared deck. “But all of this still doesn’t feel right. It isn’t right.”

  Chris’s eyes narrowed. “Well, those two-carat diamond earrings, do they feel right? Driving around in the new ’vette, does that feel right? Not to mention those oh-so-perfectly-perky little enhancements you’re so proud of . . . do they feel right?”

  Amy knew she’d crossed the line.

  Chris stepped closer, on the verge of going ballistic. “And let’s not even talk about what happened to my little sister . . . that didn’t feel so right, did it? She was in less than a foot of water . . . it practically beached itself to get to her!” He was yelling now, his voice going hoarse from the intensity.

  “In case you’ve forgotten, it happened right in front of me. I was on duty that day. I could hear her screams from my tower, Amy. To this day I still have nightmares about those screams, the thrashing water. People on the beach had to pull my mother into the shallows to keep her from going after the thing. By the time I got there, all I saw was my mother coming out of the water, with her arms cradled like my sister was still in them. Her white one-piece swimsuit was completely red.”

  Amy took a step back, wishing she had kept her silence.

  Chris had a disturbing gleam in his eyes. “People said you can’t blame the shark. It’s a killer. A killing machine . . . that’s what it does!” He pointed to his chest, leaving a smeared red dot from his fingertip. “And now I’m the killing machine, and that’s what I do!” He stepped forward. “I still protect the beaches, all right. Only now, instead of from a lifeguard tower, I do it from out here.”

  Amy looked down at the deck without a word. When she turned back around toward the bow, she saw a fog bank headed their way. “Did you guys move the boat?”

  “Yeah, we did,” Gary spoke up, eager to change the subject. “We’re only a few miles off shore, farther east. What happened earlier with the ch
opper spooked us. Chris thought it would be safer to change locations just in case they had seen something and decided to report us.”

  The fog reached the boat. Amy stared into the silver mist, watching as it slowly curled over the gunwale and across the bloody deck. “Guys, are you about ready to head in? All of this is starting to creep me out.”

  ~~~

  John peered down through the side window as the chopper’s light continued to scour the night sea.

  “Are you okay?” Kate’s voice rang in his earphones.

  He didn’t answer—just continued to stare blankly at the light cutting through the haze below.

  “All I need is the right shot,” he muttered, more to himself than Kate. “One shot . . . at the right speed, not too fast. I can make it all stop . . . make it right . . .”

  “What did you say? I can’t hear you.”

  “Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “Nothing.” But the creature’s red eyes were burning in his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about the beast’s unsettling stare. He could feel its blood boiling, as if enraged that a mere human would dare to interfere. And the way it taunted him, as if reminding him that he didn’t have a chance, had failed every attempt to destroy it. Nothing could stop it.

  But there was something else in those red lantern eyes. At first he swore it was his imagination, but no. Now he was certain of it, and the very thought chilled him to the bone.

  It remembers me.

  And John understood. It was more than an animal trying to feed; it was an animal craving the death of another in an unnatural way.

  It wanted vengeance.

  “So what do you think?” Kate’s voice again interrupted him. “Think we’ve gone too far out?”

  Snapping out of it, John asked, “Where are we in reference to the pier?”

  Kate looked at the instrument cluster. “We’ve been heading west. We’re about two miles offshore.”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” John glanced at his watch. “I still can’t believe the Navy hasn’t shown up yet. We need more eyes out here.”