Vengeance from the Deep - Book One: Pliosaur

by Russ Elliott

  Gripping his stomach, Ron walked over and picked up the yellow gym bag. He staggered across the beach and through the parking lot until he reached a cream-colored station wagon with surfboard racks. Leaning against the driver’s side door, he gazed over the hood, and back toward the beach. In the distance, he saw the long frill and back slowly drop below the surface, but he still couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. Even at this longer distance, the creature still looked enormous.

  Opening the door, Ron collapsed onto the driver’s seat and pulled the car keys from the bag. The key, feeling like it was covered in oil, slipped in his bloody fingertips as he started the car and slowly pulled the old station wagon out of the dusty parking lot. Ron did his best to fight off the shock and concentrate on his driving. The steering wheel was slippery in his bloody hands.

  He tried to keep his eyes on the road, resisting the temptation to look down at the expanding bloodstain on the seat. The light traffic allowed him to drive slowly in the middle of the road until a loud honking horn from behind caused him to pull onto the shoulder. A truck shot past him, and the blaring horn disappeared. Fighting dizziness and nausea, Ron proceeded, doing his best to stay in the center of the road.

  He felt his strength diminishing. He was cold. His vision turned white. The car swerved, and he heard gravel hitting the side of the door. There was a sudden drop and a feeling of weightlessness. His vision cleared long enough for him to see the bottom of the ditch coming up to meet the windshield. A loud crash, and the horn blared around him as he slipped into unconsciousness.

  ~~~

  Kate’s eyes widened in astonishment, hanging on to John’s every word. John adjusted his headset and continued to explain how he narrowly escaped from the lagoon. “After pushing the chief into the lagoon to create a diversion, I dove from the dock and swam—”

  “Wait a minute.” Kate glanced at the helicopter’s windshield then back at John. “You mean you dove into the same lagoon . . . with that thing?”

  “Yeah, it was preoccupied with the chief for the moment. Then I swam between the pilings and into a cavern. But the tribesmen were everywhere. I barely made it to the shoreline.”

  Kate glanced down at the enormous tooth in John’s lap. “So, when did you get your souvenir?”

  John held it up for her. “Yeah, I saw this as I swam out of the lagoon. It was sticking out of one of the pilings. Anyway, after reaching the shoreline, I blazed through the jungle and never looked back. It was really close. At first I thought I ran past the clearing, but I was still able to make it back to the chopper before the tribesmen.”

  “Wow, that’s unbelievable!” Kate shook her head in amazement.

  “Yeah, I know. An eighty-foot prehistoric marine reptile is a lot to swallow,” John said.

  “Oh, I believe the part about the pliosaur,” Kate said. “It’s the part where you outran all of those tribesmen chasing you through the jungle that I have trouble with.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know . . . for someone your age.”

  “My age!” John scoffed. “I’m only—” His eyes wandered over Kate’s young, lean figure, and he decided not to press the issue.

  “So what, then you lifted off and left the island?” asked Kate.

  “Well, almost. I had to spend one more night there, due to a perfectly placed spear hole in the chopper’s crowning.”

  Kate reached over and took the tooth from John’s hand. “Unbelievable . . . a living pliosaur. Glad I came to pick you up in a chopper instead of a boat!”

  “A prehistoric marine reptile thought to have been extinct for millions of years,” added John. “That tooth you’re holding is the first white pliosaur tooth ever discovered.”

  “No doubt!” Kate flipped a switch on the instrument cluster. “Up until now, all of the other teeth discovered have always been dark-colored in the form of fossils. Never white and fresh like this.” She grinned. “I’m calling Mom now . . . she’s gonna freak when she hears about this. Just wish I could see her expression.”

  “Let me speak to her first,” John was somber. “I need to tell her about Brad.”

  Kate slowly nodded, her smile fading as the reality of the situation began to sink in.

  Chapter 19

  THE SHOOT

  The side door of the minivan slid open revealing clouds of dust settling in the dirt parking lot. The rolling surf echoed in the distance. The glassy waters and white sand of Keurboom slowly appeared through the haze.

  “Well, it looks like we beat them here,” photographer Paul Ansel announced, stepping from the van. He was a thin man in his mid-forties with long, black hair streaked with gray. After getting out, he slid the door all the way open. “Samantha, are you sure this is the right spot?”

  A young woman with shoulder-length, brown hair stepped down from the side door. Her shapely body was apparent through the contours of her long, white spa robe. She looked out across the beach and saw only a long stretch of undisturbed sand. The breakers just off shore also revealed nothing. No bodies adorning surfboards stood out amid the whitecaps and endless, blue-green waters. “Yes, this is the spot. I’m sure of it. Dorian said they would meet us right in front of the west entrance of the parking lot.”

  Joe Barrison, the photographer’s assistant, stepped out of the van behind Samantha. “What time did you tell them to meet us here?”

  Samantha glanced at her wristwatch. “They should have been here an hour ago. Dorian even mentioned getting here earlier to catch a few waves before the shoot. I don’t get it. He followed me here to this exact spot so he would be sure where to meet us. He was so stoked about being in a commercial.”

  The driver’s side door slammed shut, harder than necessary. “I knew it! Knew I should have paid the extra money and hired models. Everyone knows you can’t rely on surfers!” barked Doug Evans, a heavyset man in his early forties with short, bleached-blond hair. As he stepped around the van, a gust of wind blew open the front of his Hawaiian print shirt. A white tank beneath it read “African Gold” in bamboo letters above a golden sun.

  Samantha replied, “Remember your original concept, Doug. You wanted to use real surfers riding the waves. Not just a group of models. These guys are really good, and they look the part––especially Dorian!”

  “Well, a lot of good they’re doing me now!” Doug looked over at the photographer. “So what do you think, Paul? Is the whole shoot a bust or what?”

  Paul glanced up at the sun. “Relax, Doug, the sky looks great. We can still shoot the footage of Samantha on the beach, then shoot the surfers later today, or even tomorrow, and drop them in later.”

  “How’s that supposed to work?” asked Doug, squinting up at the clear sky.

  “Hey, we’re living in the digital age—a little editing is all it takes. And no one will ever know the difference!”

  “Well, if you say so,” said Doug, a trace of concern in his voice. “But how much more is all that digital magic gonna cost me?”

  Paul threw the strap to his camera case over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. You’re a friend of Samantha’s . . . we’ll work something out. Or if you’d like to save a little extra, I think I might have a wetsuit that will fit you and a surfboard back at the studio!”

  “I don’t think we’re that desperate!” replied Doug.

  Samantha gave him a smile that hid her disappointment. She couldn’t believe Dorian completely blew off the shoot, or even worse, her. Still she didn’t give up hope. He’ll probably show up a little later, she thought. He did seem like a partier; he’s probably still asleep . . . hopefully alone! She was surprised at her jealous feelings after meeting him just once.

  “Okay then, if everyone’s ready, let’s do it,” said Paul, picking up the rest of his equipment. He looked at his portly assistant who was in his early twenties with long, red hair. “Joe, could you grab the reflector and the makeup case from behind the back seat?”

  Samantha followed the
others across the wide beach while Paul searched for the perfect location for shooting. Finally, he sat down his lens case and pointed to an area just ahead. “There, that looks like a good spot. See how the sand’s all nice and even?”

  He looked over at Joe who had suddenly dropped the reflector and started to run across the beach toward an area west of their destination.

  “Joe! Where are you going?” shouted Paul.

  “I’ll be right back,” yelled Joe, as he continued to run in the direction of something he’d spotted in the shallows. Slightly out of breath, he waded toward a surfboard while it bobbled in the frothy water. “Sweeeeet! A Gordon Smith! I could use one of these.” Joe quickly looked down the beach in both directions and across the water, glancing for its owner. He picked the board up and turned it over. Long, jagged gashes covered the rear section of the board where the fins used to be. “Maybe not!” he frowned. “Looks like a bad case of coral rash.” After dropping the board back in the water, he paused. “Maybe Brian can fix it back at his shop.” He tucked it under his arm and raced back to the shoot.

  “What have you got there?” asked Paul, adjusting the height of the camera’s tripod.

  Joe tossed the board to an area clear of the shoot. “It’s an abandoned surfboard; a good brand, but the back of it’s trashed. I’ve got a friend who owns a surf shop just down the road. Maybe he can fix it—refinish the bottom and put some new fins on it.”

  Paul ignored Joe’s discovery and waved to Samantha to get her attention. “Samantha. We’re just about ready for you!”

  After checking her lipstick one more time in a small mirror, Samantha took off her robe, revealing a metallic-gold bikini that glistened against her golden skin. Doug walked toward Samantha carrying a white sack. His approval was evident in his eyes. “The suit looks great! And the tan is just right, not too dark . . . just the right tone. He pulled out a gold necklace from the sack and held it up to her neckline. “Try this on for size.”

  Samantha looked at the large, gold sun centered between two gold palm fronds. “Awesome!” She ran her finger around the edge of the carved sun. “It’s really cool how it matches your logo. Is it real gold?”

  “Kinda. A friend of mine made it out of wood and covered it in gold leaf. He said it would look great on camera. Here, let’s see how it looks on you.”

  “Oooww . . . that looks great,” said Doug, stepping back. “Really works well with the suit!”

  Joe looked over with his eyebrows held high. “Yeah bro, no doubt!”

  Several yards away, Paul started motioning to everyone. “Come on! Let’s go! This light won’t stay perfect forever.”

  Samantha walked to the water’s edge and sat down slowly. After being positioned by Paul, she lay back with her elbows in the sand. The ocean breeze swept her hair back gently from her shoulders. Cool waves glided up the sand beneath her calves. The atmosphere, the camera––all of it was invigorating. Although she didn’t consider herself vain, she loved the attention she received from modeling.

  She stared straight ahead and into the shallows. Her abdominal muscles slightly tensed. She could almost feel Paul scrutinizing every inch of her body through the camera’s lens, checking for anything that wasn’t just right. Uh, oh! Almost forgot about that, thought Samantha as she pushed her right heel deeper into the moist sand. I meant to cover it up with makeup this morning before I left. Maybe he can’t see it.

  She glanced at Paul through the corner of her eye. He stopped and stood up behind the camera. “That’s not gonna work. Samantha! What did you do to your ankle?”

  Samantha raised her left foot from the sand. She rotated it, revealing a deep-green tattoo that wrapped completely around her ankle. “It’s not that bad, Paul. Practically all of the top models and actresses have one on them somewhere.”

  “What difference does it make?” grumbled Doug, looking over the photographer’s shoulder. “Aren’t her feet gonna be in the water?”

  The photographer paused for a moment and studied the sky. “Suppose we could let it go. Besides, there’s a storm cloud moving in.” He dropped back behind the camera. Adjusting the lens, he said, “Okay, everyone, we’re back in business. Joe, could you grab the reflector and bring it to my left? That’s it . . . now tilt it a little more. Yes, that’s it, magnificent . . . just the perfect glow.”

  Samantha looked straight ahead and resumed her position. Paul shouted above the crashing waves, “Okay now, Samantha, keep your eyes closed and pull your head back. Feel the warm sun caress your body . . . that’s it. Be careful not to knock over the bottle of suntan lotion beside your elbow. Slowly . . . slowly, that’s it. Okay, now the surfer is about to approach you from the water. A bronze Adonis. At first you don’t even notice him. You’re just enjoying the warm sun, acting as if he isn’t there.”

  Doug yelled from behind Paul, “That’s not hard to do!” Then he muttered, “Surfer bums. I should have known better.”

  Paul continued his instructions. “Okay, now you can slowly tilt your head down and open your eyes. That’s it. Good! Stare straight out into the water. You see his glistening body slowly approaching you from the surf. Wait a minute . . . Joe, could you get that? There’s a piece of wood or something out there floating into frame.”

  Joe walked past Samantha and waded into the shallows up to his knees. As he neared the floating piece of debris, it slowly drifted farther out of reach. He leaned forward against the incoming waves, lifting his elbows while the water level rose to his waistline. The illusive object was only a few yards away, seemingly taunting him to go deeper into the water.

  “Is that what I think it is?” he muttered as the small section of surfboard flipped up from a passing wave. The board turned over exposing a set of undamaged fins protruding from its underside. “Cool! Maybe I could use these fins for the other board!”

  Samantha remained in position, watching patiently while Joe waded deeper into the water.

  Paul shouted, “Joe, that’s okay. It’s well out of frame now. Don’t worry about it.”

  Joe yelled back without turning around, “That’s okay, I’ve almost got—” Then, he was gone, disappearing beneath the surface with barely a splash.

  Samantha started to laugh, thinking he was kidding around. Paul stood up from behind the camera and flipped off his sandals. He apparently was taking the situation more seriously. Then, just as Paul started heading for the water, Joe popped up from the surface spitting and coughing. His red hair was streaked in front of his eyes with the neckline of his wet shirt hanging low on his chest.

  Wiping his hair back from his face, Joe looked at the crew. “I stepped in some kind of a ditch! It’s really strange. The sand’s all nice and level until you get to about right here. Then it drops off into this enormous ditch. It almost looks like someone tried to beach a submarine.”

  He turned and grabbed the small section of board and made his way back to the shallows. Joe stepped out of the water, studying the board’s splintered edge. “It’s the rear section of a surfboard.” Then he stopped and took a closer look at the fins.

  Paul impatiently yelled from behind the camera, “You don’t have to examine it! Just get it out of frame!” Joe quickly tucked the piece of board under his arm and ran back onto the beach.

  “Be careful,” Paul yelled, “not in front of the model––you’re disrupting the sand.”

  As Joe took another step, he felt the piece of surfboard being tugged from under his arm. He looked back and saw the leash taut as if caught on something in the water. He grabbed the cord and gave it a hard tug.

  Something burst from the water like a flying fish. Samantha jumped back as the ghostly white object flew from the leash and landed beside her, knocking over the bottle of lotion. Her mouth dropped open in horror as she looked down at the pale foot lying in the damp sand. Before she could turn away, her eyes locked on something else. Something familiar that drew the blood from her face. Just below the red ring of flesh and smooth, milky-whit
e edge of the bone, was a chain-like tattoo that perfectly matched her own.

  ~~~

  The helicopter glided above the water, heading for the coast. After a few moments of silence, Kate gasped while staring through the windshield. “The Motanza!”

  “What?”

  Kate glanced at John. “This might be nothing. I spent the better part of yesterday canceling flights, didn’t see much of the news. But I remember something. Yesterday there was an attack at the Motanza, an annual fishing festival off Mazeppa Bay. It’s where the local fishermen form a circle with their boats around this enormous net and slowly bring it up. Have you heard of it?”

  “I know of it, sure,” John said.

  “Anyway, as they were bringing up the net, something enormous attacked it and got all tangled up. It thrashed so violently almost all of the boats were capsized. On the news they said it was an aggressive humpback whale because of its size. But I only caught the tail end of it. I’m sure you’ll see it tonight when we get back.”

  John sat silent, his mind reeling. It’s already here. He dared to ask the next question, “Was anyone killed?”

  “I think two fishermen were reported missing, but I know there were a lot of injuries. The creature just thrashed about trying to untangle itself, then swam off. Who knows? Maybe they’re right; it could have been a whale. Like I said, I just caught part of it.”