KRONOS RISING: After 65 million years, the world's greatest predator is back.

by Max Hawthorne

  Eurypterid II’s portal had ruptured.

  THIRTY

  “ We’re sinking!” Jake bellowed. Behind him, he heard Amara scream something, but her words were drowned by the sounds of rushing water and collapsing Lexan. He clawed at the slippery metal of his station, fighting for a handhold to pull himself erect. A foot of cold, churning brine already swirled around inside Eurypterid II, with more lasering its way through their compromised viewing bubble by the second.

  Jake was nearly to his feet when his sprained ankle gave out, causing him to hobble to one side. He went down, striking his forehead against the edge of his chair. He saw a flash of white and a burst of scarlet. Ignoring the blood streaming from his temple, he braced himself on one knee. A fresh water jet plowed into him and he cursed as he was dropped again. He uttered a bellow of pain and frustration; he was being punished by a giant pressure washer. Yet another blast caught him, pummeling the side of his neck and face. He twisted onto his side to save his eyes, then raised his head above the rising water and glanced at what remained of their portal. Three palm-sized holes had been punched through the thick Lexan, with the remainder ready to go at any moment. Heart hammering, he placed his palms on the floor and straightened his arms, ignoring the beating his injured ribs took. He shook his head, thankful they were already at the surface. If they weren’t, the mini-sub would have imploded already. His eyes met Amara’s and he read her terrified thoughts.

  We have to get out of here!

  Still in her pilot’s chair, Amara twisted at the waist to lessen the painful hosing and sputtered seawater. She gripped her joystick and jerked it side to side repeatedly, failing to move them. “I can’t control us!” she screamed. “I’ve lost helm. We’re a dead stick!”

  Jake sprang to his feet and splashed toward her. “We have to abandon ship!” He placed himself between her and the punishing spray.

  Soaked and shivering, Amara nodded. She tapped a button on her overhead console, turned a large dial, and shook her head. “Damn it. Not even manual override.” Suddenly, there was a deep, groaning noise and Eurypterid II began to nose downward. The floor tilted sharply and the bright bits of sky still visible near the top of the viewing portal vanished. The cockpit grew noticeably dimmer. Amara grabbed at the buckle of her safety harness and pointed to the overhead hatch they used when boarding. “You’ve got to pull the release lever and pop the hatch. It’s our only chance!”

  Jake followed her gaze, then nodded, waiting for her.

  “Don’t wait for me,” she snapped, fumbling with her buckle. “Hit the hatch now, before we submerge completely!”

  Jake managed two steps through knee-high water, then stumbled to one side as the sub lurched down again. There was another painful groan, and a shoebox-sized section of their six-foot bubble shot inward, propelled by a torrent of ocean. The cold seawater he stood in rose dramatically, scaling his thighs, soaking his hips and chilling his groin. Despite the blinding spray, he managed to keep from falling and grabbed the bottom rung of their debarking ladder. He turned to Amara, extending his hand. The look of pure terror on her face froze him in his tracks.

  “I’m stuck!” she cried out, yanking repeatedly at her safety harness. “It’s jammed. I can’t get out!”

  Jake was instantly at her side, grabbing the discus-sized buckle. He jammed his calloused thumbs repeatedly into the release buttons but the mechanism failed to catch. A sickening thought occurred to him. He’d damaged the buckle, moments before. And now, she was trapped in it. His stunned eyes traveled up to meet Amara’s panic-filled ones.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked, tugging once more at her harness and staring at the rising water.

  “We get you out,” Jake announced. Teeth bared, he seized the heavy webbing with his hands and ripped. When it failed to give, he grabbed the metal buckle with both hands, tugging with all his might, trying to tear it apart or wrench the heavy belts from their anchorages. Nothing. Frustrated, he raised one soaked pant leg out of the water and braced his booted foot against Amara’s armrest, throwing his entire body back and pulling with everything he had. He hesitated as reality sank in.

  Oh, Jesus . . . I can’t break it!

  “Jake?” The trembling in Amara’s voice echoed the fear he felt. “Can’t you do it?”

  His reply was an infuriated snarl. He took hold of the harness once more and heaved on it with desperate strength, raging as he pitted tendon and sinew against the unyielding material. His body screamed from the effort, his muscles bulging to the point his pressure bandage burst and blood spritzed from his bicep wound like spray from an aerosol can. He stopped, his mind reeling in disbelief at how well-built the harness was.

  The shifting floor dislodged Jake from his stupor. The dying Eurypterid II was pointing nose-down at a forty-five degree slope. Relief swept through the lawman as the increased angle drained water away from Amara. The mini-sub’s viewing portal uttered a final crackling sound and failed completely. The remnants collapsed inward like a shattered igloo, leaving a gaping five-foot wide hole that allowed the sea in unchecked.

  “Oh God - Jake, help me!” Amara screamed. The water swamped the cockpit, reaching her chin in a second, and forcing her to tilt her head back in order to breathe.

  Desperate and unable to keep from panicking, Jake scanned the cockpit, then frantically checked his pockets. His heavy jackknife was gone – undoubtedly removed by Markov while he was unconscious. His eyes lit up when he realized he still carried the maniac’s sidearm, and he ripped the waterlogged .40 caliber from its holster. He scanned Amara’s harness, searching for an effective spot. “Turn away!” he yelled. “I’m going to shoot through the webbing!”

  Barely able to move, Amara swallowed hard and angled her chin to the right. She started making awful gagging sounds and Jake realized to his horror the seawater was reaching her lips and nostrils. He seized a portion of her shoulder belt and twisted it as far from her body as possible, placing the muzzle of the high-powered pistol against it. His lips tightened up and he wedged his forearm between Amara and the barrel. He said a quick prayer and pulled the trigger.

  Nothing happened.

  Jake pulled the trigger three more times. He lifted the gun out of the water and checked it. He chambered another round and tried again, cursing as he realized saltwater had fouled the firing mechanism. Howling in dismay, he flung the useless weapon away.

  “Jake!” Amara spouted a mouthful of brine and sucked in a panicky breath. “Help me, please!”

  “I’m trying!” Jake yelled. Her cries of terror were a spear rammed through his heart. He reached under her, hoisting her higher in her seat to give her a few more precious seconds. Her head raised an inch or two and he held her there as she sucked in terrified breaths.

  “The sub’s position created an air pocket,” Amara gasped. “That’s why the cockpit’s not completely filled, but it won’t last.” She was shaking uncontrollably, a combination of fear and hypothermia. She closed her eyes and started taking tiny, rapid breaths. Her breathing slowed and she opened her eyes. “J-Jake, I want you to look at me.”

  He leaned closer, keeping one hand under her bottom while cradling the back of her head. Cold fear swept over him and his voice shook more than Amara’s. “Yeah, d-doc? What can I do? Tell me what to d-do.”

  Their eyes met and he felt her reading him, sensing the terror overwhelming him. He felt an awful shame, something he’d never felt before, and swallowed hard. He tried to look away, but he couldn’t.

  Amara’s eyes bored into his. “You have to g-go. P-please . . . this is it for me. There’s n-no need for you to die too.”

  Jake shook his head so hard the room spun. He drew in a huge breath and ducked underwater. Feeling his way along, he grabbed a piece of her harness and bit down on it. The waterlogged material was tough and hard and tasted like a dirty car tire. His jaw ached and his gums bled, but he kept at it. Finally, when he reached the point where he was about to drown himself, he thru
st his head above water and sucked in a huge lungful. Ignoring Amara’s frightened cries, he plunged back under, returning to the same section of webbing to gauge his progress. The piece he found was the wrong one. It was smooth and unblemished. Horror filled his aching lungs as he felt along its length. Whatever military-based materials Von Freiling’s manufacturers had chosen for their little attack craft, they’d spared no expense. He had the right piece. It was simply undamaged.

  Jake surfaced once more and uttered an agonizing scream of denial. He seized the harness in his free hand and yanked uselessly against it, then lowered his lips to Amara’s ear, his chin partially submerged, and began sobbing hysterically. “I . . . can’t do it . . .” he moaned. “I can’t . . . get you free. I’m so sorry . . . I tried!”

  “It’s okay,” Amara comforted, her eyes welling with tears as she thrust her jaw out to breathe. She reached underwater for him, putting her arms around him as best she could. She stroked his shuddering back muscles, trying to comfort him. “I know you tried. Believe me. If you can’t save me, no one can.”

  Jake lifted his chin up out of the water, rubbing his cheek softly against hers. Their eyes met, and through the veil of tears that shrouded his vision, he saw something that gave him pause.

  “I love you, Jake,” Amara confirmed. “I know it’s c-crazy, and I picked a hell of a time to tell you, but I want you to know.”

  “Oh, Jesus, no . . .” Jake moaned, shaking his head in denial of what was to come. “I can’t lose you. Please, not like this . . . I can’t . . .”

  “Shut up and kiss me, you big Mary,” Amara insisted.

  Shivering in waves, Jake cradled her face in his palms and pressed his lips lightly to hers. He felt a jolt of electricity run through him, traveling from the tips of his toes to the hair on his head. Her lips were warm and vibrant, not cold and . . .

  There was a low rumble, and the min-sub began to wobble in the current. Amara touched Jake’s cheek with pruned-up fingertips and looked him in the eye. She stroked his face gently. “You are here for me, Jake. You were there when it mattered and you tried your best. Do you understand?”

  Jake stared at her, unable to reply.

  She grabbed him by the chin and shook him gently. “Do you understand?”

  Too drained to argue, Jake nodded and looked down.

  Amara made a face and spat out a mouthful. “I know this is going to be hard, but I want you to go. Do you hear me?”

  Jake’s eyes became angry and he shook his head.

  “I want you to go,” she repeated. “It’ll be easier if I know you’ve made it. Just pop the hatch and g-go.”

  “No. If I do your air bubble will vanish and you’ll drown.”

  Amara twisted hard in her seat, pressing up with her toes to raise herself a tiny bit farther from the water that was slowly killing her. “I’m already drowning, Jake. It’ll just b-be quicker.”

  Jake shook his head again.

  “Okay, fine,” she snarled. “Then take a deep breath and go through the portal. We’re near the surface, and I’ve s-seen you swim. I know you can m-make it.”

  Jake glanced at the section of water leading to the submerged observation bubble. Another shiver ran through him and he leaned closer, kissing her tenderly. “I’m not g-going anywhere,” he announced.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m staying with you,” he said resignedly.

  “What the f-fuck are you talking about? You’ll die too, you b-big idiot!”

  Jake smiled sadly. “I died three years ago, doc. I’m not going back without you. Sorry.”

  Amara flailed angrily against her bonds. “Why you stupid, p-p-pig-headed . . . what the hell’s wrong with you? Do I have to kick your ass to save your life?”

  Jake leaned over her, palming her chin and cheeks so their gazes locked. “I wish you could. And by the way, that just may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  Amara opened her mouth to scream at him but he kissed her again. He kept his lips pressed to hers, waiting until the angry quivering faded and he knew her ire was past. He pulled back a few inches and caressed her lips with a wet fingertip. “Oh, and for the record, I love you too.”

  She started sobbing. “This is crazy! How can you do this?”

  “How can I do what? Die with the woman I love?” Jake shook his head ruefully. “How can I not?”

  “But, Jake . . . I . . . please . . .”

  “Shhh . . .” He cuddled up against her, hoisting her up and keeping his quavering body pressed against hers as best he could. “I’m staying to the end.”

  Jake held onto her as the moments ticked by, stroking her cheeks with his fingertips and whispering comforting things when her fear got the better of her. He kept a close watch on the rising water, dreading the moment when Eurypterid II filled completely, but also feeling surprisingly at ease.

  A sudden vibration began to assail the dying mini-sub, causing it to wobble sickeningly back and forth. Amara gave a gurgling cry as the shifting water completely covered her face, causing Jake to use his hands to clear her mouth and nose as best he could. He took a series of deep inhalations, preparing to breathe air from his own lungs into hers. The sub continued to shift from side to side and a huge form took shape above them. Jake gave a start, his surprised inhalation pure dread. A powerful pressure wave was pushing them around.

  Oh, Lord, please don’t tell me that thing had a mate, after all!

  A sudden clanging sound startled him. It was followed by an elongated grating noise, as if a giant cat was sharpening its claws along Eurypterid II’s flanks. Their position in the water shifted abruptly, and he was forced to grab onto Amara’s chair as they began to be hauled inexplicably upward.

  “Jake, what’s happening?” Amara gasped. She shook her head to clear her ears, astonished that the water levels around her face and throat were plummeting, exposing first her shoulders, then chest and waist as they drained out the mini-sub’s open nose in a powerful rush.

  “I have no idea,” he replied, holding on to her armrests.

  There was a loud thump as their momentum abruptly ceased. Still trapped in her station, Amara was unaffected, but she made a desperate grab, latching onto Jake’s soaked sleeve and holding on tight to keep him from falling. The water around them continued to drain away; it was already below waist height. The two exchanged nervous glances and gazed apprehensively around the cockpit. There was a painful scraping noise as their damaged prow dragged against something metallic, followed by another high-decibel clanging noise and the same scratching sound. A moment later, Eurypterid II’s nose was hoisted upward. The remaining water inside the submersible began to flow like quicksilver to the rear of the cockpit, collecting in a four-foot deep pool and leaving Jake and Amara exposed and shivering. They held on to each other, still unsure of what was happening.

  “Jake, look!” Amara exclaimed. She pointed to the jagged opening that was their Lexan viewing portal. They had breached the surface and were being dragged relentlessly up along the steel hull of a much larger vessel. Jake heard muffled voices shouting in an unfamiliar language and braced his feet to compensate for Eurypterid II’s wild swaying. Soon, they were pointing up at a steep angle, their prow ten feet above the sea spray. Their noisy progress was accompanied by a low humming sound that intensified as they traveled further up. The other ship’s gunwhales became visible at the very top of their missing portal, and then its sturdy railing. With a violent shudder, their progress slowed to a crawl, leaving their bow level with their rescuer’s deck.

  Jake spotted a group of seamen moving rapidly around. They were Japanese. An officer was barking orders to those nearest him. To his right and dead center stood a person of obvious import, most likely the vessel’s captain and commander, based on his immaculate white jacket and the obvious deference he was shown by the other crewmen. Jake focused hard. Despite the contrasting glare and the dim lighting inside their mini-sub, he could see the man’s face. He had
silver hair and dark, fathomless eyes.

  “Holy shit,” Amara whispered from behind him. “I don’t believe it!”

  Jake followed her stunned gaze. Her eyes were locked onto those of the ship’s commander. Another shudder passed through Eurypterid II’s sturdy hull as they came to a complete halt. Though pointing up at an odd angle, they were locked in place, tightly affixed to the other ship’s hull. The vessel’s commander gestured to a nearby sailor, who saluted and rotated a lever atop the section of railing directly adjacent to the mini-sub’s bow. The railing swung in and back, opening like a six-foot wide gate. A pair of crewmen stepped boldly through, ducking their heads and holding onto jagged pieces of Lexan still edging the missing observation portal, as they made their way into the submersible’s cockpit. They carried blankets and a large medical kit. The first one looked up, his eyes meeting Jake’s. He had an apprehensive expression and bowed quickly, muttering something in broken English. The second focused his attention on Amara. When he realized she was stuck he reached into his pocket, producing a curved folding knife with serrated edges. Jake tensed and held up a hand. The man bowed and wordlessly handed the weapon to him. Even with the knife’s razor-sharp edge it took the lawman nearly thirty seconds of frustrated sawing before he was through her restraining belts. When he finally finished, he closed the knife and handed it back, then leaned down to help Amara stand. Drained from her ordeal, she smiled weakly as she accepted his hand and tried to rise. With one hand clutching her aching head, she swayed like a sapling in high wind. To her credit, she managed to make it to her feet before she doubled over to vomit. His face wracked with concern, Jake took one of the blankets from the crewmen and draped it gently over her shoulders, stroking her back and whispering comforting words until she finished regurgitating seawater. When she recovered sufficiently, he wrapped one arm around her and helped her back to her feet.