by Russ Elliott
~~~
“What do you mean they think I did it? That’s insane!” John paced the airport office while listening to Tom on Kate’s cell phone. “It’s obviously a setup. I left my wallet back at the island. It had to be Kota, the native I told you about. Somehow, he followed me back from the island and slaughtered the crew on the research ship. Now he’s here!” John paused to listen to Tom.
Standing next to John, listening to one side of the conversation, Kate shook her head. “This isn’t sounding so good.”
“Yeah, I believe you,” Tom was saying. “You already told me about the situation with the tribesmen. Why don’t you just turn yourself in and explain it all to the police down at the station? You need to tell them what you know about the killings on the research ship anyway.”
“There will be time for that later,” John insisted. “If I try to sort this out with the local authorities now, they’ll want to conduct an investigation. That could take days. They’ll also have to go to the research ship and question Nathan and Erick. That’ll ruin the whole setup we have for tracking the pliosaur. And what if they want to hold me until they get this whole thing sorted out? I could end up in some South African jail for weeks.”
“All right, all right!” Tom agreed. “I just called to let you know . . . and I think Admiral Henderson gave the police the address where you’re staying. So, if you don’t want to talk to them now, you’d better find a different place to stay for a while.”
“Got it, Tom. Thanks for the heads-up. I’d better get going. I’ll let you know if we get another signal on the homing device.”
After John hung up, Kate pointed to the burning building on the television screen. “They think you’re responsible for that?”
“Afraid so. Looks like my old buddy Kota wanted to throw a monkey wrench into the works. Tom said the police know where to find me.”
“But I was with you last night. I am your alibi. And there’s Erick and Nathan. They can prove those blokes are responsible for the murders on the ship! Then, just maybe, the police can link them to the dead guard at the naval base.”
“You weren’t with me all night,” replied John, weighing all the positives and negatives. “Remember? You stepped out for a couple hours last night to get the chum and depth charges.” He ruffled his hair and sighed. “Besides, we don’t have time for all this. We could get a call from Nathan any minute regarding the pliosaur’s current position.”
“Well, in that case, it’s a good thing the chopper’s topped off and ready to go,” Kate said with a clap of her hands. “Let’s get moving!”
~~~
Beneath a flock of nearly one hundred seagulls, the gigantic shadow drew closer to land. Still in calorie debt from the fruitless chase with the speedboat, the fifty-ton creature hungered for large prey.
Using its front paddle fins only in an effort to conserve energy, the beast slowly propelled itself farther west, following an electrical field generated by a pod of southern right whales. Several miles ahead, their alluring underwater groans of communication beckoned. Gliding over the shadow of a deep ravine, the monster sensed something else—close and near the surface. This electrical field was different, stronger. Altering its course, and using all four paddle fins now, the fearless killer drew nearer to the three-hundred-seventy-five-foot shape. The creature’s eyes locked in on the rectangular light flickering on the underbelly of its new prey.
As the pliosaur closed in, its sensory devices picked up the magnetic field generated by the ship’s massive propellers slicing through the water.
Then the monster sensed . . . something more . . .
Slowly, the alluring scent flowed into its mouth, beyond the spike teeth, and into a pair of chambers inside the roof of the creature’s mouth. After picking up the signal from the nostrils, the first cranial nerve instantly triggered the message to the brain.
Blood!
~~~
“Yo, look at that. I think it’s a shark.” Earl pressed his long, skinny fingers against the wooden frame of the dance floor, looking down through the glass.
“Yeah, it looks like the bait bucket’s working. I think that’s a baby hammerhead. Maybe the mother’s around!” said James, pulling on the collar of his tight-fitting tuxedo. “Still, I think we’d better go up on deck and check on the bucket. Make sure it’s far enough below the surface. I left it kind of shallow.”
“Aiight!” Earl saluted James, then looked through the dozens of legs on the crowded dance floor. “This elevator music is about to drive me nuts anyway. Race you to the deck!”
Darting through the crowd, Earl glanced over his shoulder to check his lead on James. “Fat boy can’t catch me!” Turning back around, his eyes widened as a tray of food filled his vision. Holding the tray was a waiter whose eyes also widened as he shouted, “Watch out!” Earl hit the waiter head-on, then scurried to the doorway, wincing at the loud crash behind him. He couldn’t resist a look behind him. The waiter was sprawled across the floor beside several overturned plates of pasta and prime rib. Their eyes met again, and Earl shot through the door to the stairwell.
After tripping an elderly woman in the stairwell, Earl’s wiry body allowed him to make it to the starboard rail well before his portly friend.
Eventually, James stepped onto the deck, huffing and puffing. “I think I split the back of my pants coming up the stairs. And I saw you almost take out that old woman. She nearly fell on me,” he gasped then pointed to the side rail. “So, how’s the bait bucket looking?”
James reached over the side rail and tugged the line until the yellow edge of the crate broke the waves. “Looks like it’s okay. I’m gonna leave it where it is.”
As James lowered the crate back beneath the surface, Earl’s gaze went upward. He pointed. “Yo! What’s that? Look at that weird cloud!”
“Where?” James tightened the knot around the rail.
“Where do you think, fool? In the sky!”
“What are you talking about? The sun’s out, there aren’t any clouds today.”
Earl pointed toward the eastern sky. “Well, what do you call that?”
James followed Earl’s gaze as the darkness in the sky drew nearer. “That’s not a cloud. It’s a flock of birds. It’s a flock of seagulls. The biggest flock I’ve ever seen!”
“For real!” replied Earl. “Looks like they’re heading toward the ship.”
“Forget the birds.” James started back to the stairwell. “Let’s roll out and check out the dance floor before the bait bucket’s empty.”
Earl caught up with his buddy. “Yo, but keep your eyes open for that waiter I took out on the way up, the one with the ponytail. When he was getting up from the floor, he looked at me like he wanted to throw down. The veins were sticking out on his neck and everything.”
Moments later, after creeping down the stairwell, the two boys reentered the grand ballroom. Earl skidded to a stop. James bumped him from behind.
The black ponytail swirled around as the headwaiter locked eyes with Earl. “Hey, you! Stop right there!”
Instantly, the boys disappeared behind the ornate, wooden swinging doors.
~~~
“Morris, just let it go. It was an accident,” said a young waitress on her way back into the galley, carrying an empty tray. “They’re just bored; trying to have a little fun. Who could blame ’em? Look around. With all this Lawrence Welk music, this isn’t exactly the most happening party.”
Glancing back at the elderly couples barely moving on the dance floor, the headwaiter adjusted his collar and cocked his head. In his best Rodney Dangerfield voice, he said, “Look at that, will you? The dance of the living dead! Lucky when I dropped that tray earlier I didn’t cause a dozen heart attacks. Oooow! Gotta be careful around here, ya know. Make a sudden loud noise in this room, and they could charge you with mass murder.”
Laughing, the waitress said, “Well, they’re not all that old.” She backed through the kitchen doors. “I think you jus
t got the early-bird crowd seated at your station.”
“The way this day’s going, that’s just my luck.” Morris followed her into the galley. “Just my luck.”
~~~
Out of breath, James and Earl reached the top of the stairwell. The moment they set foot on deck, they stopped cold. Dozens of small shadows swirled around them. They looked overhead.
“Wow! Do you believe this?” gasped James, as an enormous flock of seagulls circled the ship. Ravenous cries filled the air. To Earl’s left, at least thirty seagulls were perched on the starboard side rail while others landed randomly around the deck. Earl jumped when a seagull atop the stairwell squawked loudly in his ear.
Hesitant to take another step, James watched as the mysterious birds seemed to cover every available space on the ship.
A dropping landed on Earl’s shoulder. Had the scene not been so peculiar, he would have laughed. “Look at all of them . . . it’s almost like that old Hitchcock movie.”
James nodded as three more seagulls landed on the starboard rail. “It’s kind of creepy. It’s almost like they’re waiting for someone to feed them.”
Chapter 13
ARRIVAL
The grand ballroom was dark with the party in full swing. Men dressed in tuxedos and women in drop-dead gorgeous gowns flirted, gossiped, and laughed. By now, most were finished with their meals. Some had made their way to the transparent dance floor where couples were swirling to ballroom music. The room’s main source of light was the hypnotic blue tint emitted from the waters beneath the glass.
In the middle of the dance floor, an attractive young woman dropped her hands in disgust. “Forget it, Bill. You’re on your own. I can’t dance to this rubbish.”
“Oh, come on, Carla,” said Bill, holding her hand to keep her on the floor. “Hey, why don’t you just ask the DJ to pick it up a little? I mean, look at him over there. He’s half asleep. He’s probably more bored than we are.” Bill waggled his eyebrows at her and smiled. “You can do it. Just sweet-talk him. It always works on me.” He gently pushed her in the direction of the DJ. With a quick wink, the strawberry blonde sashayed her way across the crowded dance floor toward the mirrored DJ booth. Carla caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, her eyes following the contours of her form-fitting teal gown as light shimmered off her every curve. “No doubt this will work,” she muttered with a half smile. She rose to the tips of her toes and peered over the front of the booth to get the DJ’s attention.
She looked over her bare shoulder at Bill, winked again, and then turned back to the young black man in his Hawaiian print shirt. The DJ gave a big white smile and nodded as she laid out her request for something more upbeat.
No sooner than she turned around to face Bill with a thumbs-up, the music faded and the room grew dark. The entire room was still and silent for a moment, then . . . A loud thump.
Urgent chatter started immediately, followed by . . .
Another thump.
Then a streak of light shot against the mirrored ball above the dance floor, and specks of light swirled around the room. From the enormous speakers, a deep voice echoed around the room, “Now it’s time to take a trip back to the eighties!”
Slowly, the ten-thousand-watt sound system reached its full potential as a pulsating disco beat thundered through the room. Hops and hollers echoed around Bill, and the dance floor came to life.
Bill smiled at Carla as she met him in the center of the dance floor. “Babe, if we could bottle what you’ve got, we’d be rich!”
As if on cue, the elderly crowd quickly shuffled from the dance floor as the hard-driving Whitney Houston song grew louder. The beam from a strobe light shot up from beneath the glass bottom. Then the entire dance floor began to glow in flashes, keeping rhythm with the pulsing beat. Instantly, the dance floor filled with a much younger crowd. Carla started to say something to Bill but knew he’d never hear her as she felt the music vibrating the glass beneath her feet. She leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and let the rhythm take over. The music was now in control of her body. No doubt, this girl was born to dance.
Her eyes popped open when she felt her right heel slip from her shoe and nearly fell. Bill caught her, and she gave a thankful nod. Bloody stiletto heels. They make your legs look great, but they’re not much for dancing. As she tried to work her heel back beneath the strap, there was another moment of darkness. She looked at Bill, then gazed curiously around the room. The gentle blue tint was gone. She slowly looked down. The lights beneath the dance floor illuminated a ghostly gray mass.
At first, she thought it was the sandy sea bottom passing beneath the ship, but she quickly dismissed the notion as impossible because it was moving sideways beneath the glass.
She tugged on Bill’s coat and pointed, but she could see he’d already noticed the odd mass below them, heading left to right, contrary to the direction of the ship’s course. They looked at each other in confusion. Bill shrugged and pulled her closer to him. Together, they kneeled to peer more directly through the glass.
There was a grinding noise then, and her blood ran cold. She froze, hands splayed across the glass of the dance floor, as the tip of what she guessed was a giant fin scraped across the glass beneath her feet.
Slowly, she stood up, leaving her shoe in the middle of the dance floor. She took a step backward, her eyes glued to the water. Bill remained on the crowded floor, fixated on the object beneath the glass.
“Bill, what is it?”
There was no answer. The moment Bill turned to face her, the dance floor erupted in an explosion of glass.
The crash was absolutely deafening as the tremendous impact hurled Carla back onto the marble. Cold water pounded her. Looking up, all she could make out was a gray wall of flesh that propelled everything upward. Bodies and glass flew through the air. Dozens of people soared along the ceiling, twisting and rolling through the chandeliers, showering the room with crystal. Others crashed like rag dolls onto the tables below.
The DJ dove to the floor as a huge section of glass shattered the booth behind him. The pulsing music stopped—replaced by terrified screams.
Scurrying back, Carla saw another section of the dance floor land on a party of ten, crushing a man at the end of the table. The others fell onto the floor, looking around the room in shock. Near the dance floor, a woman’s body, tangled in a chandelier, crashed down on a table of eight. Frantically, the horrified group tripped over their chairs trying to get away from the table.
Carla was on her hands and knees, wet hair strung in her eyes. This can’t be real! More cool water swept across the marble. She crawled back farther on the trembling walkway, distancing herself from whatever was protruding from the dance floor.
In the darkness, she could see glimpses of a massive head as it thrashed, seemingly in slow motion, with the blinking strobe light. Rows of gigantic teeth and pale, wet skin glistened in the blackness. Carla glanced around her. In unison, the stunned passengers backed away from the dance floor. They struggled to keep their footing after the creature’s every movement. Elbows and knees pelted her as people rushed by.
Frantically, she searched for her boyfriend. Looking back toward the galley, she saw Bill’s lifeless body dangling from a chandelier. The horrific image made everything spin, and she collapsed onto the walkway, unconscious.
~~~
Emerging from the employee’s restroom in the back of the galley, Morris, the headwaiter, grabbed the doorframe as the boat rocked heavily. “Yow! Must have run into some rough weather.” He carefully walked along a hallway and entered the back door of the galley. Heading to a nearby cooler, he pulled out a Caesar salad. When he turned toward the grand ballroom, he noticed cries coming from behind the set of doors. “Sounds like things are livening up in there!”
Walking farther through the galley, he caught a glimpse of the chef’s back as it disappeared into a stairwell, but shrugged it off. Brushing his ponytail from his shoulder, Morris reached for the stai
nless steel doors. He paused, listening to the ruckus in the ballroom. These weren’t sounds of joy—they were cries of sheer terror. He dropped the salad and slowly pressed his fingertips against the door to peak through. Inside, he found only darkness.
The floor jilted dramatically, sending Morris stumbling forward through the double doors. He took several steps into the ballroom to regain his footing, and that’s when the floodlights came on, fully illuminating the room.
Morris grabbed his chest and gasped at the sight before him—not the strewn bodies, not the smashed dishes and tables, not even the blood. His vision focused on one thing and one thing only: the toothy maw of a horrific sea creature thrashing upward through the hole that was previously a dance floor.
The room swayed, and he stumbled to the side, then back into the wall. Slowly, his peripheral vision began to absorb the horror all around him. People splashed across the flooding carpet, stumbling across chairs, clawing over one another in an attempt to reach the doorways. To his left, a woman in a white satin gown lay twisted in a chandelier on top of a table. Not far from her, a man lay lifelessly beside a section of glass. Huge chunks of glass were strewn everywhere.
This is absolute madness!
A sheet of water swept up the walkway, touching his shoes.
Not moving his eyes from the creature, he moved along the wall, back toward the door.
Something black passed over his head. Instinctively, he glanced up to see the bottom of the shoes of a young man dangling from a chandelier. Then he saw the others. Dozens of people were tangled in the chandeliers, some swayed and screamed while others dangled like lifeless marionettes. Shaking his head, Morris continued toward the door. He was in sensory overload, the entire scene more than he could comprehend.
Suddenly, a crack formed in front of the dance floor, the carpet tearing away as the crack widened.