Primordial

by David Wood

  Rinne cracked his knuckles. “We’re going out to that boat and we’re bringing whatever their operation is to a halt right now.”

  “You don’t know they had anything to do with Pieter,” Timo said.

  “I’m sure of it!”

  “It’s getting late…” Mikael began.

  “I don’t care!” Rinne turned toward the bar and took out his wallet, intending to settle his bill. He felt a hand on his arm and turned to see a customer, a local man whose name he could not recall, standing beside him.

  “Excuse me, Superintendent, but I—”

  Rinne glanced at him. “I don’t have time right now. Take your issue to the station.” No one was there at the moment, but it would get the man out of his hair.

  “No, no,” the man said, “it’s not my issue, but might be yours.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  The man flinched, took a step back. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. You were discussing that bunch of strangers out on the lake, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “One of them was in town a little earlier. The big guy with the black hair? He was asking about where he could purchase livestock.”

  Rinne frowned, the idea at odds with anything he might have expected this man to say. “Livestock?”

  “Yes. I suggested he go and see Vanhanen up on the hill. He thanked me and headed off. Then about an hour ago, as I was heading in here, I saw him manhandling three trussed and protesting sheep into his tin dinghy, and he headed back out onto the lake.”

  Silence descended on the small group for a moment. Rinne shook his head, words failing him. He glanced at Mikael, who shrugged.

  “Three sheep?” Rinne said eventually.

  “That’s right.” The townsman nodded eagerly. “Is that useful information?”

  “I have no idea, but thank you all the same.” Rinne turned to Mikael. “Get everyone together. All our part-timers. I don’t care if it’s dark by the time we’re ready to go, we are taking a team out there as soon as we’re gathered and we’re putting an end to whatever it is that madman is doing.”

  Chapter 32

  The screens were empty. Well, almost empty. The occasional bit of silt or debris drifted past, but the water remained otherwise vacant of any sort of movement. Aston half-hoped nothing would appear. Ever.

  He looked out at the slate gray sky, a perfect match for his current mood. Black clouds on the horizon portended a coming storm, and he wondered if they also presaged a storm of a different sort. The lake seemed dark and forbidding, the surrounding hills constricting. Even the brightly-lit cabin felt oppressive, like a pen holding animals for slaughter.

  “See anything yet?” Holloway poked his head through the doorway, grinning like an idiot. “With four cameras around the lair, it’s only a matter of time, am I right?”

  Aston wanted nothing more than to break the man’s jaw. That wasn’t entirely true – the one thing he wanted more was a paycheck, and he wouldn’t get that unless he rode out the remainder of this clusterfuck of an expedition.

  “Did you hear me?” Holloway asked.

  Aston slowly raised his head. “Nothing yet, but I’m still watching.”

  “You’re sure you found the right lair?” Holloway guffawed and slapped himself on the thigh as if he’d made a great joke.

  “I’m sure.” Aston managed a weak smile. “I suppose it’s possible she’s headed back to the sea. We’ve been doing a lot of poking around and probably disturbed her.”

  Holloway shook his head. “Don’t lose hope. I think your seal sounds idea just might do the trick. We’ve got the speaker installed and we’re almost ready to go. Just wait. When we catch this beauty you’ll see there was nothing to worry about.” He turned on his heel and strode jauntily out onto the deck.

  “He fucking bi-polar or something,” Aston muttered. “His mood goes up and down faster than a busy whore’s underwear.”

  “Don’t mind him,” Slater said, staring a hole in the back of the billionaire’s head. “You’re bigger than him where it counts.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I’ve got ‘heart’ or some crap like that?”

  “No. I just figure as much time as he spends measuring dicks with his checkbook, he’s probably about this big.” She held up her pinky finger. “I know for a fact you’ve got him beat.”

  Aston had to laugh. “I guess that’s something, but right now I wouldn’t mind having a little more length and girth in the old bank account.”

  Slater moved to stand behind his chair. “Just hang in there.” She began slowly kneading his shoulders. Aston closed his eyes as her strong hands worked at his knotted muscles. The woman had an expert touch. “I vetted Holloway pretty thoroughly. He’s an unrepentant ass, but I couldn’t find an account of him failing to make good on his business dealings. If we just ride this thing out, he’ll hold up his end of the bargain.”

  “I suppose.” He took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and let it escape, hoping the stress would go along with it. “You really missed your calling, you know that?”

  “I studied massage therapy before going on to college. I wasn’t bad at it, but I got sick of fat, middle-aged guys asking for a happy ending, and then pretending it was all a big joke.” Her fingers worked their way up his neck. “You are like one giant knot, you know that?”

  “It’s premature rigor mortis.”

  Slater’s hands froze. “That’s not funny, Aston.”

  “Sorry. Gallows humor.”

  “Not the time or place for it, I’m afraid.” Her fingers moved to his temples, applying gentle pressure and slowly circling.

  “What do you think the end game is here?” Aston asked, trying to get his mind off of how close Slater was standing to him. The woman had a way of getting him stirred up and now was not the time for distraction, no matter how pleasant. “If the creature shows its face, if we get convincing video evidence, do you think that’ll be good enough for him? Might he back off his crazy trap idea of his?”

  “I don’t know.” Slater let her hands fall back to his shoulders and rested them there. “He’s dead set on capturing it. I don’t think he’ll consider this done until he’s at least had a crack at that.”

  “What’s he going to do if he does snare it? How the hell will he get it back to the States, and what comes after that? Let it loose in Sea World and watch it snack on the dolphins?”

  “I can’t say what his system of transport will be, but he says he’s had a plan in place for some time. You’re not far off with the Sea World thing. He’s planning to open his own theme park with our beast as the featured attraction.”

  Aston groaned and buried his face in his hands. “He definitely didn’t see Jurassic Park.”

  “Maybe he did but thought the dinosaurs were the heroes?”

  “Bloody hell.” Aston looked up, flashed a rueful grin, and returned his attention to the empty screens in before him.

  “Here he comes. Look alive,” Slater warned.

  Sure enough, Holloway came strutting in, smile still plastered across his face. “The Captain says the speaker’s ready to go. I don’t think he liked being pressed into action as a set-up man, but with this storm coming, there wasn’t time for Joaquin to do both. What are you gonna do? He’s on the payroll, same as anyone else. We’ll teach these Finns about the American work ethic if we have to drag them kicking and screaming.”

  Aston stilled himself to calm, resisting even the urge to roll his eyes. Every time it seemed like Holloway had descended to the nadir of buffoonery, he found new depths to plumb. “I take it you’re ready to try the seal sounds?”

  “You got it.” Holloway turned to Slater. “What is it they say in the television business? Ready… action!” He stretched out his arms and brought them together like a clapperboard. At l
east, that’s what Aston thought the man was miming. To him it looked like Joan Rivers clapping.

  Slater summoned up an indulgent smile. “Something like that. Aston, give me five minutes to get set up before you strike up the band. Wouldn’t want to miss it if we’re going to make our girl a star.” She turned and followed Holloway out, pausing at the door to mime strangling someone before leaving.

  Aston smiled at her back. The woman was all right.

  * * *

  Two hours later Aston was ready to declare the seal sound experiment an abject failure. He’d run them for an hour straight, and then tinkered with the volume to give the illusion of movement. No joy. The creature, wherever she was, wasn’t biting.

  He’d even gone online and snagged a variety of underwater noises – clicks, grunts, and stridulations, even dolphin sounds. Nothing. Of course, it was entirely possible the beast had, in fact, headed out to sea and might not be back for days. Or weeks, or months. He had no way of guessing how often it visited this lake or its cave here. It might have lairs all up and down the gulf coast, for all they knew. Maybe it spent the rest of the year in a variety of other places. There would be a twisted irony to the situation if they’d found out all this right on the day it chose to leave for another season.

  “Perhaps it needs a thumping bass,” Slater jibed, rubbing Aston’s shoulders again. “You know, something that really hits. Get that primal beat going, stir her loins, get her hungry for some companionship.”

  Aston wondered if Slater might be hungry for some companionship herself. She’d been touchy enough today. Then again, it might be the undercurrent of fear running through the crew, Holloway excepted, that made her crave any sort of contact for comfort.

  “How about some Taylor Swift?” Carly added. The young engineer had been walking about in a seemingly permanent state of unease since Aston and Slater had returned from the lair, even as she ensured she caught everything on film. Somehow, the story of their experience in the cavern had driven home the reality of the creature in a way their previous evidence had not. Her tiny laugh sounded thin and forced.

  “Philistines, the both of you,” Aston said. “If our beast doesn’t listen to Motörhead she’s not worth catching.”

  “You’re all wrong.” Holloway had slipped in unnoticed and stood beaming over Carly’s shoulder. Their failure hadn’t dampened his spirits one bit. “I’m thinking some Hank Williams Junior will go over nicely.”

  Aston played along, doing his best to hide his utter disdain for Holloway. “Nope, it’s all metal all the way. I’m in charge of the music, so it’s my way or the highway.” He took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. “Sorry, boss. It looks like my idea was a bust.”

  “Never apologize for trying and failing.” He clapped Aston on the shoulder. “What’s the old saying? We didn’t fail; we just found a few new ways not to catch a monster.”

  “You’re in high spirits,” Slater said.

  “That’s because it’s time for phase two. Joaquin’s back with the bait.”

  Chapter 33

  The crew followed Holloway back out onto the deck. Aston tagged along last, reluctance slowing his steps. The whole venture was starting to take on the trappings of a farce, or perhaps a suicide mission, but the billionaire was undeterred. Joaquin had tied the dinghy up at the dive platform and Ollie Makkonen was helping him to lug three unhappy sheep into the SCUBA room. Each poor animal was trussed up tight and bleating plaintively, eyes rolling in understandable panic.

  “This is not right,” Slater said, lips twisted in disgust.

  “You’re not wrong,” Aston said. “Sheep are terrible at SCUBA diving.”

  She looked at him, eyes flat.

  “The mask leaks because of their woolly face?” he tried.

  “This isn’t funny, Sam. This is all kinds of messed up!”

  He sighed, nodded. “You’re right. I’m joking because otherwise I think I might go mad.”

  “More of your gallows humor?” She shook her head. “I don’t know what bothers me more – what he’s about to do to those poor animals or what might happen to us if he actually succeeds in luring the creature out. What if it’s so big it causes the boat to capsize?”

  Aston grimaced as he watched the scene unfold. “There is a bit of good news on that score.”

  Slater cocked her head. “Really? What’s that?”

  “If we do capsize, you don’t have to be the fastest swimmer on the crew. You just have to be faster than the slowest swimmer.”

  Slater gaped at him and then broke out in laughter. “Or at least faster than three sheep, I suppose.”

  “Leave that one there!” Holloway shouted, pointing down into the dinghy.

  Joaquin and Makkonen paused, the third and last sheep hoisted between them, half out of the small boat.

  “Leave it here?” Joaquin asked.

  “Just put the thing down.” Holloway bustled in, forced the sad animal back into to the bottom of the tinny and ushered Joaquin and Makkonen out. He fired up the outboard and motored away, frightened bleating fading as he went. The remaining two sheep lay on the Merenneito’s deck, silent but panting and wide-eyed.

  “We can’t just leave them like that. At the least they could stand.” Slater grabbed a dive knife and cut the ropes binding their feet together. Using the same rope, she made makeshift leads and tied them to storage lockers on either side of the room.

  Immediately the animals began to calm, standing still and looking up at the people around them as if answers might be forthcoming.

  “Do we have anything to feed them?” Aston asked.

  “I’ll get something from the galley,” Joaquin said. “Some spinach or lettuce. Full stomachs might help them settle down.”

  As he walked away, Slater said, “You know what would calm them down? Taking them back to wherever the hell you got them from in the first place.”

  “Yeah,” Aston said quietly. “Come on, let’s see what our mad leader is doing up there.”

  They made their way to the top deck and paused, stunned by the sight. Carly ran ahead of them and filmed from the ship’s rail. Holloway was on his knees in the dinghy, the boat rocking violently as he tried to force the sheep’s legs, free of rope now, through the fittings of a life vest.

  “What in the actual hell?” Aston rubbed his eyes as if he could clear away the bizarre sight.

  Before long, the creature was crammed into the bright orange vest, its bleating even more panicked. Small, white buoys, spaced every three feet or so, kept the top of the catch net level with the lake surface before it trailed back up to the winch. Holloway tied the sheep’s rope between two buoys and then fastened the other end tightly to a plastic buckle on the life vest. Then he tossed the sheep over the side.

  Aston had no idea a sheep could scream, but there was no better description for the noise the poor animal made as it thrashed and rolled in the cold water. Slater put a hand over her mouth, but couldn’t tear her gaze away any more than the rest of them. Holloway watched for a moment to be sure the sheep wouldn’t sink, and then gave a single, satisfied nod. He revved the outboard and motored the small craft back to the Merenneito. His face was split in a wide grin that Aston considered at least partly manic. The man had clearly tumbled over some cliff edge of sanity in his enthusiasm and it didn’t look like he was about to stop falling any time soon.

  The sheep had finally accepted its fate and bobbed in the water like a stunned, woolly buoy by the time Holloway joined them on deck. He trotted up to them. “That should draw the monster in, don’t you…” He stopped talking, face crumpling into a frown.

  “What’s the matter now?” Makkonen asked. Even the grizzled old captain seemed uncomfortable with the turn of events.

  “What’s it doing just hanging there?” Holloway demanded, like it was the crew’s fault.

  Carly
moved around to get a better view of Holloway with the camera, occasionally panning back to the terrified animal in the water.

  “What do you mean, hanging there?” Slater asked. “What’s it supposed to do? Sing and fucking dance?”

  Holloway scowled at her. “What kind of bait is that?” He gestured toward the floating sheep. “It’s supposed to thrash around, make a lot of noise like it’s in distress. It’s supposed to attract my monster.”

  My monster, Aston thought. He already thinks he owns it.

  They stood staring for several minutes. Holloway paced back and forth, mumbling softly to himself. Aston neither knew nor cared what he was saying. Every now and then the sheep would let out a plaintive bleat, and then fall silent again. It didn’t move, paralyzed with fear, Aston presumed.

  Holloway made a noise of disgust and stalked away. “I’m going to do something about this.”

  “What now?” Trepidation hung heavy in Slater’s voice.

  The dinghy’s outboard fired up again and Holloway motored out to the unfortunate beast. The sheep began thrashing and crying out again as he approached. It managed to paddle a few feet , but could not escape Holloway’s reach.

  “Now you can finally play your part!” Holloway shouted at it. “Let’s put you to work, you little fuzzball!”

  He produced a shining dive knife and leaned over the edge of the small boat.

  “No!” Slater cried, but it made no difference.

  The knife flashed and Holloway drove it into the sheep’s shoulder. Again and again he slashed at the helpless animal, savagely slicing at its flanks. Aston gritted his teeth, unable to tune out the horrifying cries of a terrified animal in pain. Blood soaked its wool and clouded the water as the sheep’s voice rose into terrified and agonized screaming once more.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Slater screamed. “This is too much! Please stop this!”

  Holloway turned the dinghy and headed back for the Merenneito. “It’s there to be eaten anyway!” he yelled over the engine noise. “How is this any worse?”