Vengeance from the Deep - Book One: Pliosaur

by Russ Elliott

  “Your chest,” demanded Officer Marimba. “What happened to your chest?”

  “From . . . from its skin . . . underneath me when I was trying to swim back . . . to the beach.” Ron was fading fast.

  As they reached the operating room doors, the doctor put a hand on the officer’s shoulder. “That’s as far as you go, officer. We’ll take it from here.”

  A nurse approached. “I’ll show you to the waiting room. We’ll get you as soon as we know something.”

  ~~~

  Guiding the chopper east, Kate reached down and took the chimp’s hand off the cyclic control. “No thanks. I’ll do the piloting if you don’t mind.” She glanced over at John, who was asleep. A small puddle of blood had trailed from his left forearm—a cut had come open again—and onto a folded map that was in the seat.

  As she watched him, he slowly awakened, rubbing his eyes.

  “You feeling okay?”

  “I was just resting my eyes for a minute.” He reached over, and with a slight wince, peeled the map from his bloody forearm.

  Kate gave him the once-over, the torn shirt, cuts across his chest, the deep gashes in his forearms, and the tears on his pants. “Ebo was right. You’re a mess. We’d better get you cleaned up before all that gets infected. And I don’t believe a shower would hurt either. I don’t know who smells worse—you or the chimp.” She reached down and scratched the chimp’s head. “No offense, Crystal.”

  “We’ve got to take the tooth over to the Navy first,” John insisted. “How far are we now?”

  “We’re only about twenty minutes from the airport,” Kate adjusted the cyclic control, “Before we head for the Navy, we need to take a quick drive into Port Liz.” She gave a warm wink. “I think I know someone who can help us out.”

  Exhausted but determined, John nodded his approval. He picked up the tooth from beside his hip. His eyes drifted across the dried blood on his shredded shirt, the cuts along his arms, and rope-burned wrists, and stopped on the giant tooth. In spite of all he’d been through, he knew the real battle was about to begin.

  Chapter 21

  INDISPUTABLE EVIDENCE

  Kate’s silver and blue Jeep skidded to a stop in the Port Elizabeth World Museum parking lot. John finished sliding on one of Kate’s workout t-shirts he’d found in the back seat. It wasn’t the best fit, but was more presentable than the bloodstained rag he was wearing. Leaping out, he grabbed the towel-bundled tooth and followed Kate up the stairs to the sprawling building.

  Kate bounded two steps at a time as John tried to catch up. She glanced at her watch. “We made pretty good time . . . should still be able to make it to the Navy before dark. I just hope that bloody monkey of yours behaves herself in my office.”

  “I don’t see any lights on. Sure they’re open?”

  “No. It’s closed. But the curator’s in. Mom called ahead and told him we were bringing over a tooth. His name is Steven Jensen, one of her former paleontology students. If anyone knows all there is to know about giant pliosaurs, she said it’s this bloke.”

  “Just a tooth? You mean he doesn’t know it’s not a fossil . . . that it’s fresh?”

  Kate grinned. “I sure hope he has a change of trousers at the office.”

  Reaching the top step, John’s smile faded. He focused on a black vintage BSA that was parked on the sidewalk. The sight of the bike took him somewhere else. He couldn’t look away.

  Kate glanced back. “Hey, come on!” She did a double take of his face. “What is it? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?” she grinned. “I know . . . guess you rode one of those back in the day, huh?”

  John snapped out of it. “Hardly,” he muttered with a final look back at the bike. Picking up the pace, he caught up to Kate as someone appeared behind the glass double doors. The door cracked open, and John grabbed the handle, allowing Kate to enter first. Stepping through, she eyed him as if such chivalry wasn’t necessary.

  Inside, they were met by a man in his late forties. His hair and beard were peppered with gray, his face flushed with anticipation. Steven introduced himself, unable to take his eyes from the towel in John’s hand. “So, Professor Atkins tells me you’ve run across a rather unusual pliosaur tooth. Let’s have a look, shall we?”

  John unwrapped the towel.

  Steven’s eyes grew wide. He picked up the giant tooth as if he were raising the Holy Grail. “Yes indeed, an excellent specimen. It’s enormous. And its unusual white coloring . . . obviously it’s fossilized from some kind of shell or white stone.”

  “No,” John said. “It’s fresh.”

  Steven laughed it off. “No, really, where did you find it?”

  “It’s no joke.” John’s eyes were somber.

  Steven looked at Kate, as if expecting a smile, a laugh. But it never came. There was a long moment of silence. “Wha—? What do you mean fresh?” Steven stammered. He looked closer at the tooth, running his thumb across something collected on the root. His face went white. “Where exactly did you find this? Are there more?”

  “Yeah. Lots more,” John said. “Probably about a hundred or so, and I’m afraid they’re all fresher than this one.”

  “That’s enough for a complete set of jaws! How . . . where did you find them? Do you have them all in your possession?”

  Kate remained silent, giving John the floor.

  John brought his hand to his brow, wondering where to begin.

  Steven was beside himself. “We finally have proof, a white tooth! I knew it! I always knew someone would eventually find indisputable evidence of pliosaurs’ survival.”

  “Hold on,” replied John. “Speaking of indisputable evidence, there’s a bit more to the story, but I’ll have to fill you in later.”

  Steven gasped. “No! Don’t tell me you found part of a carcass still intact. What?”

  John let fly. “It’s swimming off the coast of South Africa right now. Man, it’s alive.”

  He grabbed Steven’s shoulder as he stumbled back. Seconds later, Steven found his voice. “It’s alive?” he whispered. Then his eyes grew stern. “You better not be toying with me. This isn’t some kind of sick joke, is it?”

  “Steven, I wish it was a joke.” John’s tone was solemn. “At least two people are dead.”

  Kate’s eyes confirmed this was the truth.

  After a pause, Steven shook his head as if to rid himself of shock. “You’re not kidding, are you? But where? How big is it? Have you seen it? What color is its skin? Did you get a picture of it?”

  “No, I was a little pressed for time when I first saw it. Like I said, I’ll fill you in on all the details later. My immediate concern is far from scientific. Right now we need to find a way to stop this thing.”

  Steven tried to take it all in. “Have you told anyone, like the Navy or the Sharks Board? The media hasn’t gotten wind of this yet, have they?”

  “No. I just got back to the mainland,” replied John. “I’ve informed the Navy, but I don’t think they halfway believe me.”

  “This is incredible,” Steven said. “I’ve heard about all of the beachings they’ve had along the southern coast for the last few days.” His jaw dropped. “The Motanza!”

  “Yes,” Kate said. “We think it was the pliosaur.”

  Steven continued, “If the media figures out what’s really responsible . . .”

  “I know, I’ve got to get to the Navy and convince them before the media gets wind of it,” said John.

  Kate added, “That’s why we came here first. Thought you’d be able to give us a little more info on what we’re up against. It would also help the credibility of our story if you could authenticate the tooth.”

  “Yes, of course. And it’s a good thing you have this and not just your story, whatever it is.” Steven raised the tooth. “Even though they’ll probably want to carbon test it first, it’ll certainly get their attention . . . force them to take you seriously.”

  Kate spoke up. “So what can you tell us abo
ut it?”

  Steven clicked on the lights. The enormous room with its posed prehistoric skeletons seemed to come to life around them. Steven motioned. “Follow me. You’ll want to see this.”

  Steven led them up a stairwell that wound around a posed Mosasaur skeleton. When they reached the top step, John and Kate stopped cold. They were confronted by a set of seven-foot-tall pliosaur jaws suspended from the ceiling.”

  “Unbelievable!” John was awestruck.

  Kate looked like she was about to pass out. “You were in the water with that?”

  John nodded. “And a lot of other people are gonna be, too, unless we do something.” He stepped closer. Staring into the colossal jaws at this range unnerved him. Rows of twelve-inch-long teeth projected out from the cavernous mouth. As hideous as they were, at least these were various shades of brown—fossilized. The way they are supposed to be.

  ~~~

  Forty-five anxious minutes later, Officer Marimba tossed a fishing magazine onto an end table. He rose from an uncomfortable vinyl couch and headed toward the operating room. “This is ridiculous. I don’t have all day to sit around in a hospital.” He stepped around the last corner and saw the doctor coming through the shiny stainless steel doors.

  “He’s a lucky guy. We got him just in time,” said the doctor, lowering his mask. “Another fifteen minutes, and he would have lost too much blood. For now, he’s stabilized. We’re still giving him blood, but he should be okay.”

  “Were there any injuries other than his chest?” asked the officer.

  “No, not at all. No broken bones or any type of internal damage. Just a few scrapes on his forearms and hands, similar to the ones on his chest, but not as deep.”

  “Did he say anything else?” asked the officer. “Anything about his whereabouts this morning?”

  “Yes, he keeps asking for his friend, and talking about a big creature that knocked him off his board. He’s obviously still in shock.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He said the thing that hit him had a mouth as big as a garage door and teeth the length of his arm. He said it looked like a dinosaur.”

  “Bizarre description for a shark,” muttered the officer. “Any idea what really happened to his chest? A shark scrape?”

  The doctor shook his head while pulling his mask back up. “I’ve seen quite a few shark scrapes, but they’ve never looked anything like this. Sharks have these fine, tooth-like prickles on their skin called denticles. That’s what makes their skin feel coarse when you run your hand across it a certain way. These denticles are very small, so small they’re practically invisible to the naked eye. Usually, shark scrapes are more like coarse sandpaper scrapes, not nearly this deep––especially to go through a neoprene wetsuit and still cause this much tissue damage.”

  The officer’s brow deepened. “So if it wasn’t the shark’s skin, what was it?”

  “Maybe a large shark did knock him off his board and caused him to land on some coral. The injury seems to be more consistent with coral abrasions than anything else I’ve seen.”

  Officer Marimba breathed a sigh of relief, happy for a reasonable explanation. “Yeah, that seems to make sense.”

  “However, coral doesn’t usually leave such a consistent pattern.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The scrape marks, or points of entry, were very uniform and evenly spaced from one another. The abrasions sustained from coral are usually not this consistent. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back in there.”

  “When can I talk to him?”

  The doctor backed into the door. “Maybe tomorrow when he’s stronger, more stabilized.”

  Officer Marimba shook his head as he walked away from the emergency room, frustrated that the answers would have to wait until the morning.

  ~~~

  John and Kate hung onto Steven’s every word as he raised the giant tooth against the enormous pliosaur jaws. “You’re right. This is a plesiosaur, or pliosaur, tooth from the short-necked variety, quite possibly a Liopleurodon. You can tell by your tooth’s unique shape.” Steven ran his finger along the long indentions that tapered down to the tooth’s tip. “See these flutes?” He turned the tooth. “And the way the crown has three distinct sides that are flat? Liopleurodon is from the Greek dialect, meaning smooth-sided tooth. The full name is Liopleurodon ferox. Ferox means fear.”

  John’s eyebrows arched. “I get that part.”

  “Indeed,” Steven nodded. “But interestingly, Liopleurodon wasn’t believed to be one of the larger pliosaurs. I mean, the larger, or mega-pliosaurs, were enormous–prehistoric marine reptiles that made T-rex look like a gecko. The greatest predators that ever lived, land or sea. A clade of beast that made its debut during the Jurassic and should have died out at the end of the Cretaceous period sixty-five million years ago.”

  John spoke up. “So that tooth . . . do you think it’ll be enough evidence to convince anyone? Can we prove that it’s not a fossil?”

  Steven ran his thumb across the tooth’s root. “See these rough, moist areas along the root, that’s fresh gum tissue.” He grinned. “No one can dispute this.” He picked up a yardstick from a nearby table. He lined it up with the tooth, still awestruck. “But its size!” Steven then looked up at the set of jaws. “The lower jaw from this set measures seven feet. And see those two giant holes in the back of the skull? Those were to accommodate jaw muscles thicker than a grown man. The owner of these jaws would have been nearly fifty feet long and weigh thirty-five tons—the combined weight of eight full-grown elephants.”

  He held up the fresh tooth. “The largest tooth from this set measures twelve inches . . . your tooth measures nineteen.”

  Kate gasped. “A marine reptile larger than a herd of elephants!”

  “Oh yes!” He focused on John. “I’d say your jaws would dwarf this set in every dimension.” Steven’s eyes lit up as he envisioned such a beast. “Your creature would be about eighty feet long, maybe more. We’re talking about a monster whose paddle fins would span thirty-five feet from fin tip to fin tip, propelling a fifteen-foot-long head. Not to mention twelve-foot jaws powerful enough to lift a truck and tear it in half.” His eyes narrowed on John. “For you see, your creature possessed a bite force in excess of sixteen tons—the most powerful in history.”

  John muttered to Kate, “I wish he wouldn’t call it my creature.” He hesitated for a moment. “Then a beast this size would obviously be a slow swimmer because of its bulk, right? Like a whale?”

  “Quite the contrary, I’m afraid. Pliosaur was, or should I say, is a swift ambush predator. After taking a huge gulp of air at the surface, the creature would dive down to the seafloor. There it could lay in wait up to two hours on a single breath. Then, spotting its prey, it would thrust all four of its paddle fins in unison and attack with blinding speed.”

  Steven paused. “This brings up another point. Considering its attack strategy, the beast could be quite difficult to spot. In other words, if it’s lying in wait on the seabed and only comes up every hour or so for a breath, your chances of spotting it from a chopper could be slim. Your only hope will be to catch it en route, moving from one feeding ground to another.”

  “That’s reassuring,” Kate muttered. “The largest predator in history, and almost impossible to find.”

  “You said eighty feet, maybe more,” John added. “How big could these things get?”

  Steven rolled his eyes. “As with most presumed extinct species, scientists don’t all agree on pliosaur’s maximum size. However, there are a few bones from London’s Oxford and Cambridge Clay mines that suggest it was enormous. A giant vertebra, and a lower jaw nearly ten feet long have been unearthed. Because the jaw is a partial find, the so-called experts can’t stop reclassifying them. Initially, they said the jaw belonged to Liopleurodon macromerus; later they changed it to Pliosaurus macromerus.” Steven winked. “But after looking at the size and shape of your tooth, maybe the lads had
it right the first time. The bottom line is that if that colossal lower mandible didn’t come from Liopleurodon . . . then he has a cousin that’s even bigger!” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Then there’s the twenty-percent factor to consider.”

  “Twenty-percent factor?” John and Kate said in unison.

  “Yes. Unlike the dinosaurs, very few complete skeletons of giant pliosaurs have been discovered. So it would be absurd to believe the ten-foot mandible unearthed is from the largest specimen. Therefore, many scientists agree that you can safely increase the largest remains discovered by twenty percent of its size to estimate the maximum size of the species. In other words—”

  Kate finished for him. “God only knows how large these things really got.”

  “Precisely.” Steven glanced up at the jaws, still wide-eyed, then continued. “And let’s not forget the Monster of Aramberri; a massive fifty-foot skeleton unearthed in Mexico in 2002. Its teeth were nearly sixteen inches long. Although scientists keep adjusting the actual length of this partial find, it was initially believed to be a Liopleurodon, then later, of course, it was reclassified. But soon after the excavation they were shocked to discover that the creature was only a juvenile. And that in its skull, which was the size of a car, there was a death wound . . . a hole that came from a much larger adult. But naturally this, too, is being debated. Many now believe that the remains are not from a juvenile.”

  He continued, “Then you have the infamous remains unearthed in Svalbard, Norway, in 2009 of a giant pliosaur thought to rival the Monster of Aramberri. After tentatively calling it Predator X, they settled on the name Pliosaurus funkei. Pitiful name for such a beast.”

  John rubbed his chin. “And I always thought the prehistoric shark megalodon was the undisputed champ of all time.”

  Steven gasped as if John had insulted his mother. “Please! That mere fish!” Clearly, these were fighting words to Steven. “First off, what isn’t commonly known is that many of the reconstructed megalodon jaws you see have proven to be inaccurately done. They simply contain too many teeth, or they consisted of larger teeth from multiple specimens. Appropriately scaled, the largest set of megalodon jaws would be around seven feet wide. A formidable bite indeed, until you compare it to a creature with a ten-foot lower jaw—a mandible that is three feet longer than megalodon’s entire bite radius. Now take pliosaur’s ten-foot lower jaw and place its matching ten-foot upper jaw on top of it. Then open the mouth.” Steven nodded with glee. “That’s right. You’re looking at a maximum bite radius of around twelve feet—nearly twice that of megalodon!”