Dark Waters

by Lucas Pederson

  “We were told to,” she says.

  “Oh, I know.”

  Jenna sucks her teeth a moment, then says, “Sleep. I’ll wake you in an hour. The seats recline.”

  Miles finds the lever to recline the seat and sighs relief. To sleep, if only for an hour, would give his mind a restart. It would—

  A silvery ping tingles the air. He glances around, fixes his sight on the monitor. In the thousand-yard radius, a large, blue shape emerges. Unlike the Great White images, this one does not so much move, but glide in a straight line toward the STAV. Now at seven-hundred yards and closing.

  “It’s not organic,” Jenna mutters, frowning at her monitor. “Readings are telling me it’s made of metal.”

  Miles straightens in his seat. “What do you need me to do?”

  “I’m going to loop around behind them,” Jenna says. “Might just be a Coast Guard sub curious about us.”

  Miles nods.

  “If not, the laser cannon controls are installed into these wheels. I’ve disabled your pilot controls so don’t worry about steering. Let’s see if they’re friendly first.”

  He snorts. “I remember when I used to give the orders.”

  She sticks her tongue out at him briefly. “You keep forgetting I’m the Captain in the STAV.” She returns her focus to dipping the STAV down another hundred feet and turning. “Now be quiet.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Miles says, smiling a bit.

  The laser cannon triggers are on the grips of the throttle/steering wheel. After a little inspection, he finds the symbols. One is of a straight line, the other is an asterisk, indicating a burst, or explosion.

  He lightly curls his fingers around the straight-line laser triggers on both grips. The bursts he wants to save, especially since he’s not sure where in line Ma placed the only ammo that will kill the giant sea serpent. Whatever its Norse name is or its origin, it’s a monster as far as he’s concerned. A dangerous one that shouldn’t exist. A thing that should not be. And maybe it needs to die. Maybe he deserves to die. If all of Geri’s mythology stuff is true, the serpent is kind of a bitch. Creating catastrophes wherever it slithers. People die. Even other gods like Fenrir died by this thing’s monstrous nature. And if it killed Mike…

  Miles shoves the thought to the back of his mind while Jenna tries to loop around the approaching sub. But…

  “Shit,” Jenna says through clenched teeth. “They know our movements and are turning. Turning on the cloak. Hold on.” She taps a blue icon on the monitor and all the lights in the STAV turn blue.

  She changes directions, pulsing the thrusters just enough to make the switch quicker.

  The sub, which appears to be somewhere between a mini and a massive war machine, continues following their old direction. The cloak is working. Rendering them virtually invisible. There are hacks to filter through a cloak, Miles knows, but he hopes Jenna can get the drop on them before they figure it out.

  She brings the STAV up a good hundred feet, spirals over their pursuers, and drops directly behind the swirling bubbles of something similar to the STAV, only not quite as narrow. And he thought the STAV was bulky, this thing is like a goddamn box gliding through the water.

  And…

  He squints, leaning forward a bit, focusing through the bubbles on the logo painted on the back of the STAV wannabe. Then his eyes widen. He glances at Jenna and she nods.

  “Fire,” she says.

  Miles squeezes the trigger before he lets his mind stop him. Two reddish beams slice through the murky water into the sub in front of them. Streams of bubbles blow out of the holes and upward.

  “Again,” Jenna says.

  He aims for the armored propellers, squeezes the triggers. Two more reddish beams cut into his target. There’s a muffled rumble, black liquid inks the enemy out of sight for a moment or two.

  Jenna slows the STAV to a crawl, hissing.

  When the black liquid (oil, Miles assumes) clears a bit, the other vessel bobs in the water. Not moving. The streams of bubbles still trail out of the holes in the thing’s hull.

  Jenna stops the STAV and taps another icon on the monitor. “Before you launch your escape pods, tell your boss to stay away. Every vessel we see, we will destroy. This is your boss’ final warning.”

  A few moments later, eight pods explode from the sides of the enemy sub and shoot toward the surface in a melee of silvery bubbles.

  Jenna turns to Miles. “You know who sent that vessel, right?”

  He nods. “Murdock Jones. Saw the MJ Oil logo.”

  “Exactly. He was trying to tail us, which means he somehow knows about our mission.”

  “Maybe he didn’t believe the kidnapping? Maybe he had Admiral Wade tortured?”

  Jenna sighs. “Really doesn’t matter. He’s on to us now and we need to haul ass.”

  “Well, yeah. I said that before.”

  She raises a hand between them. “Being a smartass isn’t going to help.”

  “I’m not. I did say to go faster. But we can’t risk being sitting ducks. Why do you think I didn’t fight you on it?”

  She doesn’t answer and instead resets their coordinates and increases the speed to two-hundred knots.

  A few minutes later, she says, “We’re moving fast now. Three hours max before we reach our destination. No thrusters, but pushing her to the limits.”

  “Good,” he says.

  “You can sleep now, if you want.”

  He grunts, smiling. “Yeah, okay. I don’t think the imaginary gods want me to sleep anyway.”

  Jenna reaches over and pats his shoulder. “There, there. Want a tissue?”

  Miles laughs. It’s a full laugh. Something he hasn’t been able to do in a long time.

  CHAPTER 12

  All Emma knows is she needs to stay quiet. At least that’s what Ma told her.

  Through all the crazy shifts and turns, now the sub, or whatever it is, is once more moving forward. At least, that’s what it feels like. Hard to tell from back here, really, what’s going on. But when Ma and the others relax, she soon does too.

  She begins rethinking her decision to join in on the mission. Feels like a mistake now and she really doesn’t know what good she’ll be to these people, or Miles. She’s a marine biologist, sure, but what good is that with something out there defying nature? And if Geri is to be believed, they’re heading straight for a god, or demigod, or whatever.

  Emma shifts in her seat, wanting to stand and pace as her mind races. She…

  Geri places a bunch hand on her knee. “Fretting so will not make things better, dear.”

  “I’m not—”

  “You’re fidgeting like you have Parkinson’s or something,” Sylvi spouts, lowering her book.

  Emma rolls her eyes but refrains from saying anything to the other woman.

  “The blue lights,” Ma says calmly, “they mean we’re in cloak mode. There was an enemy near, so Jenna and Miles set the cloak.” As soon as she finishes, the lights flicker on to clear. “Now we’re okay.”

  “So, what…?” Emma sighs. “We were under attack?”

  “Yes,” Ma says. “Well, close to it.”

  “But who would—”

  “Murdock Jones,” Geuther says. “That rich bastard would have had Miles if we didn’t take him.”

  Emma sees it now. Guether was one of the men that carried Miles to the inflatable boat. Jakob was the other. And in the boat…Jenna? Doesn’t matter. They saved Miles from a deranged oil tycoon. Even if their methods were a bit…odd.

  “Yeah,” Jakob says. “But Miles probably would have been fed better.”

  “Just when I thought you were asleep,” Guether says.

  “Man, I never sleep.”

  “Do too.”

  “Do not.”

  “Do—”

  “Anyway,” Ma interjects. “What do you think this Jörmungandr really is, Emma?”

  “Finally,” Geri says. “Someone gets it right.”

  Em
ma shakes her head. “I don’t know. It shouldn’t exist, really. Then again, a lot of things these days shouldn’t exist.”

  “So,” Sylvi says, “you think it’s a mutation?”

  Again, Emma shakes her head. “I don’t know. It—”

  “How come it is so hard for all of you to understand that what we are dealing with is a thing of myth?”

  “Uh, because it’s a myth?” Jakob chuckles.

  “Yes,” Geri says. “Jörmungandr is a myth in a sense. All the monsters of old have long since perished or dug themselves deep into the earth to fall dormant. Jörmungandr was one who dug in and slept. She is only arisen and is probably hungry. So she feeds on everything.”

  “You really believe all that?” Sylvi asks.

  Geri nods, smiling. “I do. I have evidence gods and monsters existed in the early stages of humanity. And it will do you all well to know this as fact too. If you want to defeat Jörmungandr, you need to open your minds and realize the mythical world is leaking into ours. Killing a god, even one so minor as this one, takes finness.”

  “Miles said we might not even encounter the thing,” Guether says. “You think that’s true?”

  Geri chuckles, a sound so much like a witch’s cackle it sends ripples over Emma’s skin. “Well, it is possible.” She sighs. “But Jörmungandr is a resilient being. She’s not dumb and running on instincts like most ocean life.”

  “Most whales are pretty intelligent,” Emma says without thought.

  “True,” Geri says. “Though none of them think like you and I. Jörmungandr does. She is very aware of everything. This is another thing we must all take into account. If we are to defeat her, we must outthink her.”

  “Bullshit,” Sylvi spits, then returns to her book.

  Geri sighs heavily, though says nothing more.

  In fact, everyone falls eerily silent.

  Emma frowns. “How big is this Jörmungandr?”

  “Well,” Geri says. “It depends on which stories you believe. Some say her body can stretch from the Netherlands to Iceland. The older texts say she can wrap her entire body around the world.”

  Emma turns in her seat to look at the old woman. “And what do you think?”

  Geri sighs, hollow cheeks puffing out a bit. “Realistically speaking, I would guess she’s about twice as long as your state of Minnesota.”

  Everyone blinks at Geri, including Emma.

  “Isn’t that like eight hundred miles?” Jakob asks, glancing around.

  “Eight hundred and fourteen miles, to be accurate,” Ma says.

  Gaping, Guether shifts in his seat. “How much is that in feet?”

  Ma shakes her head. “I’m not even going to calculate that right now. This thing is huge, that’s all we need to know.”

  “Yeah, fuckin’ thing took out the second largest battleship in the world,” Sylvi says. “I’d say that’s big enough.”

  “Of course, I might be wrong,” Geri adds. “There is no hard evidence, only assumptions.”

  Sylvi grunts. “See. You don’t know shit, lady.”

  “Sylv,” Jakob says. “That’s enough, Christ.”

  Before Geri shakes her head and looks away, Emma catches the tears wetting her eyes.

  Emma snaps her attention to Sylvi. “What is your deal? You have no goddman reason to hate either of us.”

  Smirking, Sylvi places the book on the floor and leans forward a little. “You ever find a mouse in your kitchen?”

  Emma frowns. “I don’t know what that has to do with—”

  “Shut up. Answer the question.”

  “Sylv,” Jakob says. “Give it a fucking rest.”

  She ignores him and points at Emma. “I’m talking to her, shit weasel.” Her focus never strays from Emma. “Have you ever found a mouse in your kitchen?”

  “Yeah,” Emma says. “But—”

  “And I bet your first reaction was fear. Because it came out of nowhere and startled you, right?”

  Sighing, Emma shrugs. “Sure.”

  “Right. But after the initial shock you kind of thought the little bastard was cute, am I right?”

  Emma has never wanted to punch someone so much in her entire life.

  “So, thinking this mouse is just the cutest thing ever, you let it live. You don’t crush it under your bootheel or set a trap. Nope. Instead you just turn the other cheek and go on about your business. You let it slink off to wherever mice go.” Sylvi’s smile lengthens into a grin. “A few days later, you open the cupboard to get your favorite cereal and when you pull it out your tasty cereal spills all over the counter. You realize there’s a nice big hole in the box or bag, whatever. And when you open the box, there’s not only the same mouse in there, but two or three. Now…yes…because you didn’t kill it when you first saw it. You let it live. You ignored it. And now it brought in friends. Shit, maybe there’s even a few baby mice squirming in the walls now just waiting for their time to crawl out of the hole and tear into whatever goodies you have.” Sylvi’s grin becomes toothy. “Now you have an infestation. All because you thought a simple little mouse was cute.”

  After a moment, Jakob chuckles. “So, you think Emma’s cute?”

  Syvi rolls her eyes. “No, you idiot. I think she’s vermin.”

  Emma begins to stand and Ma quickly pats her leg. When she looks, Ma shakes her head. “She’d kill you before you took a step.”

  “Damn right I would,” Sylvi says, glare narrowing.

  Guether places a giant hand on Sylvi and the woman visibly flinches. “Calm down,” he says.

  Sylvi is about to open her mouth to say something when the cockpit door opens and Miles steps out.

  To Emma, he seems a bit on the pale side. Not good.

  “We’ll be at our destination in about two hours,” he says.

  Sylvi snaps her glare at him. “What the hell was all the turning and shit going on about?”

  Miles, pinching the bridge of his nose with the index finger and thumb of his right hand says, “MJ Oil. Murdock was tailing us.”

  “Well that horse’s dick,” Jakob spouts.

  “How did he know about us?” Ma asks. “I took strict precautions so he wouldn’t.”

  With a shrug, Miles says, “I don’t know.”

  Emma stands, about loses her balance from all the momentum of the vessel and braces herself to against the wall. The metal is cold. She nods at Sylvi. “She’s being an ass to both Geri and I.”

  Sylvi, all wide-eyed. “Well, of course I am.”

  Miles, still pinching the bridge of his nose, says, “Sylv, chill. Geri and Emma are here for a reason.”

  “She told them the mouse story,” Jakob says, chuckling.

  Miles sighs, shakes his head. “Sylv, that’s an old story.”

  “It’s a true story.”

  Hand finally straying from his nose, Miles waves the hand. “Whatever. Play nice. They’re both good people here to help.”

  “And what the fuck are they supposed to do? Neither of them know how to fight.” Sylvi points at Emma. “Bet Ms. Princess has never even fired a damn gun.”

  “And what the hell does that have to do with anything?” Miles says, voice louder. Not quite yelling, but close.

  Sylvi frowns. “Means she’s worthless to this mission. I really don’t care what she knows about the ocean. How the shit is that supposed to help us?”

  Miles levels his glare on Sylvi. “Do you know about the temperature of the water where we are right now, at this depth? Do you know what predators we might encounter at this depth? What about the climate tides?”

  After a few stubborn seconds, Sylvi lowers her eyes, looking at the floor. “I doubt she does.”

  “Okay,” Miles says, “fine. Emma, we’re about one thousand miles off the coast at a depth of three hundred feet. What’s the average temp in these waters?”

  Without thought, Emma says, “Around fifty degrees. Maybe forty.”

  “Why are we only at three hundred?” Ma asks
.

  “It’s a depth Jenna is comfortable with.” Miles never stops looking at Emma and his heart flutters a bit.

  “We should be at three hundred yards.”

  But Emma shakes her head. “No. Three or four hundred feet is ideal here. If I remember correctly, there’s a rise in the ocean floor coming up. If we were in yards it’d create a problem.”

  “So,” Sylvi says, “You’re saying you have no idea what you’re talking about? Because apparently Jenna already knows.”

  Emma, fists clenched at her sides, tries to ignore the woman. She makes sure Miles is paying attention. “We should ascend to one hundred feet below the surface to avoid the shelf coming up.”

  “How much longer do we have?” Miles frowns.

  She shrugs. “I have no idea, really. But you said we’re about a thousand miles out and the Outer Pacific Shelf is about that distance.”

  “Fuckin’ earthquakes,” Jakob says. “Creating ocean shelves and shit.”

  Miles rolls his eyes, looks at Emma. “You’re sure about this?”

  Laughing humorlessly, Emma shakes her head. “No, but better safe than sorry, right?”

  He nods. “Right.”

  “Anything one hundred feet and above is detectable,” Ma says.

  “Even with the cloak?”

  Ma slaps a hand to her forehead. “Why…why am I stuck in a STAV with simpletons?” She lowers her hand, gaze fixing on him. “The cloak won’t matter that close to the surface. We can be easily pinged and our progress through the water tracked. Anyone looking will see us.”

  Emma hadn’t considered this and wants to kick herself for being so stupid. She blows out a heavy breath. “Keep us at two hundred then. Just keep an eye out for variations in the floor. There’s the Shelf, but there are also sunken ships and god knows what else.”

  Miles smiles and her heart tumbles in her chest. She always liked his smile.

  There are so many ways to be attracted to someone, other than the physical, Miles had the physical thing down, but he’s deeper than that. Much deeper, Emma is coming to find out. His smile is slightly crooked, but in a way that’s endearing rather than strange. His dark, brown eyes hold old ghosts in them. Ghosts she noticed from time to time when he looked at her, though never asked him why. They’re haunted eyes. Eyes that have seen more than most people should. Eyes that watched people die and witnessed horrors far worse than any monster roaming on land or gliding through the seas. But they are also eyes of patience and kindness.