by Russ Elliott
“What are you waiting for? Do it now!”
Kolegwa looked at John’s back as the white man continued to pour blood from the doorway. Again, Kolegwa paused, hesitant to lift his blade.
Then Kota leaned forward until his mouth was at Kolegwa’s ear, “Remember how he killed the chief? Remember your oath?”
Kolegwa nodded slowly, inhaled deeply, exhaled. He stood and raised his blade.
~~~
“Lock and load, baby!” Kate said as she monitored their progress with the chum from the side window. “That’s far enough, John. Drop it now!” She looked back at him and noticed the bloodstained floor. “And watch your step back there. This is no time to be taking a dip!”
John rolled the barrel clear of the doorway. He ran to the crate and pulled out the last depth charge. Carefully, he stepped over the rope ladder and carried the awkward object to the doorway.
Forty feet below, he saw the massive head rising beneath the choppy water. The shadow transformed into rocky, gray skin. As they dropped down closer to the water, he saw the huge eyes lock on him from beneath the scarlet cloud. He raised the depth charge to his waist, holding steady. “Come on, just open that big, ugly mouth!”
“Yeah, come on,” Kate shouted. “You can do it. Just drop it right down the gullet like a big breath mint!”
~~~
Behind the divider wall, Kota repeated himself in a harsher tone. “Now is the time. Do it now!”
Kolegwa turned toward Kota and raised his blade between them. “No! This wrong. You wrong!” he spat in his native tongue.
“No!” Kota’s nostrils flared in rage. “You kill him–you kill him now!” He planted his palms on Kolegwa’s chest and shoved him backward.
~~~
John looked over the edge of the depth charge as he steadied himself inside the doorway. His hands trembled not out of fear at what he was looking at, but at the thought of missing. Then, he saw his shot. The great mouth opened directly below the helicopter. The nose broke the surface, water rushing back from hellacious spiked teeth. “Come on, hold it steady,” he muttered, forearms straining. The moment his finger touched the button, he felt the floor dip behind him. He whirled around and saw the back of a huge black man falling toward him. John’s eyes widened in shock.
Mid-fall, the tribesman turned around and raised his machete to John.
The loincloth, the white tooth painted on his face. In that instant, it all made sense. John stepped back, only inches from the doorway, and raised the depth charge to block the machete. Sparks shot through the cargo bay as the steel blade skimmed the metal. In a single motion, John sidestepped Kolegwa, swooped down behind him with the depth charge, and hurled him through the doorway.
Kolegwa flew from the helicopter screaming, his eyes opened wide as he looked down at the massive head. The machete twirled through the air. The pliosaur lunged from the water and its open mouth met Kolegwa midair, thirty feet above the surface.
John watched, frozen in the doorway as the enormous maw caught the tribesman at the waistline, shearing his lower body while his upper body somersaulted higher into the air. A trail of intestines uncoiled over the sea. Face twisted in horror, Kolegwa continued to scream until his torso crashed into the water beside the beast.
~~~
Through the pilot’s side window, Kate saw the breaching monster roll back into the sea. Having only glimpsed a swath of blood trailing the falling jaws, she assumed it was only chum. Feverishly working the stick, she tried to maneuver the craft back over the giant shadow.
~~~
Shaking, John collapsed on the floor, depth charge still in hand. Seeing motion at the divider wall, he then looked in that direction. Exhausted, all he could think to say was, “Oh crap.”
Swoosh!
John ducked a swipe of the blade. Kota whirled back around, machete cocked. Then curiously, he halted the attack, staring at John’s hands. John looked down. His eyes bulged when he realized he was still holding the depth charge—the activated depth charge. Without aiming, he hurled it through the doorway.
Kaboom!
The helicopter dipped violently as an enormous spray of water hit the bottom of the craft, spewing in front of the doorway. John and Kota slid across the bloody floor.
Kota scrambled on his hands and knees until he found his machete. He came to his feet. The white spike on his face distorted with hatred. Powerful pectoral muscles rippled as he tightened his grip on the machete. With every step, his eyes smoldered deeper into rage. He paused. A smile widened on his half-painted face. “So, I hear you lost your wallet?”
“Yeah, that was a nice touch.” John slowly stood, trying to get better footing.
Kota took another step forward, effortlessly tossing the machete into his opposite hand. “Relax,” he said. “Soon you will meet your friend, Brad! Brad . . . how he entertained us that night on the island. What a sport! In spite of the way we carved him up, he still almost made it out of the lagoon.” Kota laughed wickedly, a twisted glee in his eyes. “When Kuta-keb-la came to him, your big strong friend cried out like a woman.” Kota took another step closer. “Come on, John Paxton, now it’s your turn . . . let’s see how loud you can scream!”
At that moment, John’s fear disappeared, replaced by an accelerating rage. The noisy cargo area seemed silent to his pulsing heart. He stepped sideways over the rope ladder, his right foot shifting for traction on the chum-slick floor.
Kota lunged forward. John shifted to the side, his foot catching on the ladder as the blade whipped beside his head. He whirled back around, driving his elbow into the back of Kota’s ribs, but the strong tribesman didn’t flinch. John turned. Gripping the top of the barrel beside the doorway, he hurled it at his foe. The remaining chum gushed onto the floor. Kota stopped the barrel with his foot and kicked it through the open door.
~~~
Oblivious, Kate was squinting down through the pilot’s side window, searching for the beast. She shouted back to John. “Think you missed it. Now what?” Then she saw the barrel splash below. She turned back to the cargo bay. “Hey, what’s going on back . . . whoa! Where did he come from?”
~~~
A powerful shoulder crashed into John’s chest, driving him backward. John felt his boots sliding on the bloody floor. Wind from the thumping rotor blew the shirt tight against his back as he neared the open doorway.
The floor disappeared from beneath his feet.
John soared backward out of the helicopter, arms flailing. In midair, he looked below him. The familiar jaws stretched open, exploding from the water to meet him. Plummeting toward the creature, John felt something grab his left leg and jerk him back—the tangled rope ladder stopped him like a bungee cord. The closing jaws missed him, and the pliosaur rolled sideways and splashed beneath the surface, showering him with water.
I’m still alive I’m still alive I’m still alive . . .
He hung there upside down, head and chest pounding, swaying thirty feet above the water. His wet shirt rolled up under his arms, and he fought to keep it from covering his head. He peered down the remainder of the rope ladder to the water, its free end teasing the creature just above its nose.
Again, the vast open mouth launched from the surface. John’s vision filled with blackness until the creature’s teeth closed on the ladder just a few feet below his head. Instantly, John’s upper body was under water as the monster pulled the helicopter toward the sea, like a balloon controlled by a wild child. The helicopter’s whining engine was no match for the creature’s tremendous bulk.
On the ship’s starboard rail, hundreds of passengers watched in disbelief.
~~~
Beneath the surface, John freed his tangled leg and righted himself on the ladder, the clenched teeth only two steps down from his feet. The beast exhaled through its nostrils, enveloping him in bubbles. Three quick steps up the ladder and John broke the water line, gasping. The downdraft from the chopper pounded his face, and he was glad to feel it.<
br />
He climbed.
The pliosaur pulled harder.
The helicopter lowered.
The surface rose back up to John’s waistline, then his neck. Quickly, John climbed up another step lifting his shoulders from the sea. The taste of the bloody water was bitter in his mouth.
I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive . . .
Looking up the twenty-five feet of nylon ladder leading to the cargo door, John’s hope burst.
Kota raised the machete blade just above the ladder, grinning. He waved at John then sliced the left side of the rope.
The ladder fell sideways as the left rope was severed, dropping John’s shoulder beneath the waves. His feet slid off, swinging through the water above the creature’s snout. He struggled to climb another step with his hands.
Then he didn’t try to climb another step when he looked up and saw the blade rise again.
~~~
Kate looked back from the cockpit and saw Kota raise his machete above the ladder. “Oh, no you don’t, you—” With that, she jerked the stick, dipping the chopper.
~~~
Still looking upward, John saw the chopper dip and Kota tumble from the doorway. The big man howled like a cat, his hands clawing at the open air. John felt the water explode behind him as the monstrous jaws opened. Instantly, the ladder sprang away from the creature, and John, barely able to hang on, passed Kota in midair. Glancing back, he saw the tribesman’s head crash directly into the creature’s upper row of teeth as his decapitated body disappeared behind the closing jaws.
Thirty feet above the water, the helicopter reeled back as if being released from a giant game of tug-of-war. Momentum carried John higher than the doorway of the cargo bay. He heard the ladder clank against the swirling rotor. It caught the ladder and threw John sideways until he latched onto the bottom of the cargo doorway. He pulled himself inside with part of the ladder tangled around his leg.
Kate looked back and shouted, “Get your foot out of the ladder! Get your foot outta’ there! The ladder’s caught in the blade!”
Suddenly, John felt a tug on his leg. He looked toward the doorway and saw the ladder uncoiling upward toward the main rotor. Another tug, and he was pulled across the cargo bay. His arms caught the doorframe. Just as his legs slid outside into the open air, he rolled around and freed his foot as the ladder zipped from beneath him. With every ounce of remaining strength, John pulled himself back into the helicopter. After rolling to the center of the cargo area, he slowly climbed to his knees.
Kate said, “So. Any more friends of yours back there you forgot to introduce me to?”
“No.” John said between gasps, “I think that’s about it.” He leaned back on his knees. “You wouldn’t happen to have an extra pair of pants on board, would you?”
Kate looked at him, puzzled. “Why? It’s just a little seawater. It won’t kill you to be a little wet, considering what you’ve just been through!”
John shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s a little more than seawater.”
Kate turned back toward the windshield, laughing aloud.
When she finally composed herself, she asked, “So, what’s the plan now, without any depth charges?” She worked the stick, steadying the helicopter.
Coming to his feet, John peered down at the ocean. As he expected, the red eyes were glaring up at him from beneath the waves. “We definitely have its attention.” John glanced at the barrel strapped to the wall. “We still have one barrel of chum left. With any luck we can keep it away from the ship until the Naval Demolitions Team arrives.”
“Okay, I guess that’ll work.” Kate said, and she looked back with a smile. “But this time, no swimming.” Then her smile faded. She wrinkled her nose. “What’s that . . . smell?”
“What?”
“That smell . . . can’t you smell it?”
“Come on! Give me a break! If you were down there in the water with that thing, you would have done the same th—”
“No! I don’t mean your trousers . . . it’s coming from . . .” she sniffed, “up there!” Kate pointed to the top of the helicopter.
John nodded, “Yeah. It’s like a burning smell!”
The main rotor let out a high-pitched shriek . . . just before it started to slow.
“Crap!” Kate growled, as she smashed her hand on the instrument cluster. “The ladder’s still caught around the main rotor. It’s burning out the engine!”
John looked up toward the ceiling. “You mean . . .”
Kate’s back was ramrod straight as she looked out the windshield and nodded. “We’re going down.”
Chapter 17
IMPROVISATION
“Here?” John eyed the doorway. “No! No, not here!”
Kate fought the stick. “I don’t think we have much choice.” She twisted the throttle all the way open. The engine accelerated but didn’t reach maximum RPM. The tortured engine lifted the helicopter for a moment then started to lose altitude.
Kate worked the collective pitch control. “I’ll try to get us as far from the pliosaur as I can. We’ll stay up for a minute or so–but we’re definitely going down! Hurry! Get up here and buckle in!”
John looked out at the ship. His eyes drifted across the lifejackets along the rail, and his heart sank. He knew he’d failed them all.
“What are you waiting for?” Kate shouted, working the stick. “Buckle in!”
The helicopter soared away from the ship, sputtering–gaining and losing altitude. Kate angled the main rotor to move straight ahead as far as possible before hitting the sea. Grabbing the walkie-talkie, John jumped into the passenger’s seat and buckled in. A glance through the side window showed the sinking cruise ship getting further away. When he turned back to the windshield, he saw the surface coming up fast.
“That’s about as much distance as I can get us!” Kate yelled. “Gotta save some of the altitude to cushion the impact! Hold on!”
Not again, thought John. Two chopper crashes in the same week.
At the last second, Kate yanked the stick back, angling the main rotor backward in an attempt to use the spiraling blades as a parachute.
The windshield filled with sky. The back of the landing gear slammed down, skimming the water first, then the front caught–hurling the helicopter forward.
Water smashed the windshield, flooding the rolling cockpit. Something slammed against the back of John’s seat, throwing him forward, and everything turned red. The cold water rose over his head. Through the billowing blood cloud, he saw that Kate was no longer in the cockpit. The craft rolled further on its side, sinking fast. As he unbuckled his seat belt, John saw the top to the chum barrel float by and realized with relief it wasn’t his or Kate’s blood.
He swam through the cabin door and was blinded by streaks of glaring sunlight reflecting from the broken rotor blades. Once free from the craft’s undertow, he glanced down. A billowing red cloud rose from the cargo door as the helicopter continued to roll to the depths like a wounded creature bleeding from its side. Then, looking up, John saw Kate swimming toward the surface light.
John broke the waterline, gasping.
“You okay?” a familiar voice shouted from behind. Turning around, he saw Kate bobbing in the waves and swam close to her. He quickly wiped the wet hair from her cheek. He felt a rush of relief at the sight of her.
“Sure you’re okay?” Kate squinted. Pointing, she said, “All that blood.”
“Just the chum barrel.” John took a minute to slow his breathing. He glanced back at the distant ship. “Good job. Looks like you were able to get us about three quarters of a mile from the ship!” He saw the walkie-talkie floating nearby and quickly stroked over and grabbed it.
Treading water, Kate looked around. “You know, with all the sharks in the area, not to mention Old Big Ugly, we might want to find a better place to float than in the middle of this chum stain.”
John looked down at the water. “I was just thinking the same thing.�
�
As they slowly paddled away from the stain, they heard a rumbling on the water. The sound of a powerful engine behind them grew louder, until it suddenly ceased. John turned around. The blue hull of a thirty-two-foot Sea Ray drifted to a stop right in front of his face. At idol speed, John could still feel the powerful engines thumping the sea.
A stout, curly-haired man peered down from the side of the boat. “Saw you coming down. You mates okay?” He ducked behind the gunwale, but John could still hear him talking. “Best get you two outta there. This ain’t a good day to be in these waters.”
The man reappeared with a ladder. He hooked it over the gunwale and helped them board. With a smile, he thrust out his right hand. “Henry Peterson, welcome aboard. What happened? Engine trouble?”
“Yeah, something like that,” said Kate, scaling the ladder first.
As John stepped onto the deck, Henry looked at him, squinting. There was eagerness in his voice. “I know why you were up there. You were looking for that big critter like everyone else. Well, did you see it?”
Neither responded.
Kate looked back at the cruise ship, which didn’t seem so far away now that they were out of the water. She rested her hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Come on, Henry. Let’s get this thing of yours cranked up, and head back to shore. What do ya say, old boy?”
“Yah, sure,” Henry replied, stepping back to the helm. “I just need to take care of a little something, and then I’ll get you two mates back to shore.”
Kate eased down beside John on the gunwale, just behind the driver’s seat. They were both dripping wet. As the boat slowly accelerated, Kate looked past the stern and whispered to John, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t the shore back there?”