Sligger Island

by Michael Yowell

  “When we were on Wrecker Island, we came across a whole mess of stuff that might help you out.” He gestured toward the table. “Maybe we should have a seat for all of this.”

  Denise was eager to hear what he had to say. Taking his suggestion, she sat in front of the microscope while Mason dragged a second chair to the table. Then he sat down and took a quiet breath before speaking.

  “Okay,” he began, “there’s an underground cavern under the peak on the north side. Inside was where we found a sligger egg pool. But that’s not all we found in the cavern.”

  “Tell me.”

  “There was also an old submarine in there, a German U-boat. It had been there since World War II.”

  Denise’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding! Were you able to get inside it?”

  The sheriff nodded. “We did.”

  “What did you find?”

  “Some strange, Nazi science experiment stuff. Everything was a mess, though; it looks like there was an explosion of some kind and a fire that burned out the entire sub. They had a big, plastic vat of medical waste – or something – that ruptured during the fire. Seems the contents of that vat leaked into the ocean.”

  “Interesting…”

  “Whatever the Nazis were cooking up in there, we think the Japanese might’ve been involved too. The writing on that big vat was Japanese.”

  “I took a history class in college,” Denise said, holding up her forefinger. “And we learned that during World War II, there were incidents of Japanese scientists teaming up with German scientists. They were believed to have been performing genetic experiments, trying to come up with new forms of biological warfare. What you found on that U-boat must have been one of those operations.”

  Mason nodded. “That’s kinda what we figured after we saw it. And we also figured the result of all that stuff spilling into the water is what eventually created the sliggers.”

  “Makes absolute sense!” the marine biologist affirmed. “That would explain why my lab test results came back with DNA from so many different genera. Still, there would have to be some kind of chemical catalyst to cause the mutation. Splicing alone would not work naturally.”

  “But you said your tests showed no foreign chemicals in the tissues.”

  “No chemicals that we would recognize, at least. It’s possible that whatever those Axis scientists used was something that has not been seen by the scientific community.”

  “Holy crap, that’s a scary thought.”

  “Or, it’s possible that the test subjects created their own natural chemical reactions to the changes in their DNA, which in turn furthered the generational mutation.”

  “That’s possible too,” said Mason, although he actually had no idea which theory was the most viable.

  Denise gazed up at the ceiling. “Either way, it’s fascinating. From a scientific standpoint, of course.” She quickly brought her eyes back to Mason. “This information could save the program. The FWS told me yesterday that funding was going to be cut for this sligger research, since we’d run into a wall looking for answers. After what you’ve just told me, they would have to keep the program alive.”

  Mason fervently agreed. “Undoubtedly.”

  “I need to get samples of everything there,” Denise stated. “Is there a plan to go back to the island?”

  “There is, but not for studying. I’ve got the state police coming down here tomorrow, and then we’ll figure out a plan to go to the island and blow all the sliggers to hell.”

  Trepidation washed over Denise’s face. “I wouldn’t do that,” she warned.

  Mason was stunned. “What? Why not?”

  “If you go blowing them up, their mutated tissue will end up everywhere. Then the cycle could start again. Fishes, crabs, etcetera eating the tissue and eventually becoming something else that nature never intended.”

  “My God,” Mason mumbled, understanding perfectly the logic of her statement. “You could be right about that. But they still need to be killed. I can’t take a chance on them spreading out from the island and coming back here to attack the town again.”

  Denise concurred. “Absolutely. But maybe the state police can just use bullets to kill them; their bodies would have to be collected and properly disposed of.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “And then, when it’s safe there, we can send a clean-up crew to take care of any remaining toxic component that had started the whole business.”

  “The state troopers arrive tomorrow. I’m going to bring them to the mayor’s office, where we’ll all hash out the plan. I think you should be there too.”

  Denise smiled. “I will. Let me know when they get here.”

  “Will do.” He gave his normal two-finger salute, bid Denise a good day, and showed himself out.

  By six o’clock, Mason was hungry for dinner. He drove to Sherrie’s Shack, where he knew he would find Sherrie and probably Eaver. He walked into the restaurant.

  To his surprise, there were no customers inside. Mason only saw Cinch in the pass-through, Sherrie mopping the floor, and Eaver sitting idly on the counter. Eaver’s face was shiny from the aloe her mother had applied to her daughter’s sunburned skin.

  “Hey, all,” Mason waved.

  Eaver walked up to him and gave him a kiss. “How’d your day go?”

  “Good,” said Mason. “We’ve got the state troopers coming down tomorrow to help us.”

  Eaver tensed a bit. “They’re going out to the island?”

  “Yep. As soon as we figure out the details. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m good,” Eaver said. “Except for my sunburn, I feel back to normal.”

  “Don’t let that ol’ slavedriver work you too hard,” Mason grinned. Sherrie heard him and playfully gave him the evil eye.

  “I won’t,” said Eaver. “Besides, she loves me too much to do that.”

  “Doesn’t look like you’re in danger of being overworked,” Mason pointed out. “It’s dead in here.”

  Sherrie looked up with grave eyes. “That’s because everybody is worrying about sliggers coming back to town.”

  “What?”

  Eaver threw her hands up. “You know how it is in a small town. Apparently, Nurse Rachel said something after helping us last night, then so-and-so told the next so-and-so. Before you know it, the whole town knows about what happened to us.”

  “And they’re afraid what happened here last year is going to happen again,” Sherrie added. “Quite frankly, I’m a little concerned myself.”

  Mason stood straighter. “Not on my watch, it isn’t. Come tomorrow, we’ll have all the help we need to take care of the problem.” He turned to Eaver. “Meanwhile, I’ll be your one and only dinner customer. Then, if it’s okay with Momma, I think you should call it a day and come home with me.”

  “I think so too.”

  CHAPTER 23

  It was almost ten when Josh Moody finally got home. He unlocked the door to his two-bedroom house and stepped inside. After his long and peculiar day, the state trooper was ready to unwind.

  The day began normally, but then he had received the phone call from Sweetboro. Since then his head was swirling in an ethereal fog. The thought of those monsters still being out there was surreal. But Captain Moody worked through the feeling and subsequently found a way to arrange the manpower and weaponry he had promised. His work was done for the day.

  He plopped down on the couch and turned on the TV. He needed some distraction from his thoughts, and he flipped through the remote until he found something to watch that would give him that. An action movie was playing on one of the channels, and he stopped there. Josh had seen this movie many times before, but he would watch it once more.

  After five minutes of trying to lose himself in the film, he caught his mind wandering back to the monsters off the coast of Sweetboro. This isn’t working, he fumed. No matter what he tried to do, all he could think about was the imminent confrontation with the horrible bea
sts.

  These creatures would be like nothing he had ever encountered before. He just had to remember that, and not underestimate them. He needed to know more about them.

  The captain knew what he had to do. Reluctantly, he rose from the couch and walked to his computer. After striking the CTRL button to awaken it, Josh opened up his media files to find the footage Sheriff Steele had emailed to him a year ago.

  He remembered that day vividly. He was at the station, relaxing with a couple of other troopers, when Jimmy Steele called. The Sweetboro sheriff had even sent an email with a video attachment showing unbelievable monsters roaming hospital hallways at night. The video looked real enough, but Josh was utterly unconvinced. Believing Steele was bored and pulling an elaborate prank, Josh called him out and ended the conversation.

  The rest was history. Many Sweetboro residents died in the nights that followed, including Sheriff Steele and one of his deputies. Not a day went by since receiving the news from Sweetboro’s mayor that Josh Moody forgave himself for not believing the late sheriff. The guilt weighed heavily on him. He almost resigned from the force, but after a week of soul searching, he decided it would be better if he accepted the tragedy as a learning experience. He had hoped he would someday get the opportunity to do something good for the town of Sweetboro.

  And that day was finally here.

  Taking a deep breath, Josh opened the video file and watched the hospital’s security camera footage from last year. It only took a minute before the beasts appeared on his screen. Josh’s pulse quickened. He had seen this video clip countless times, but now he truly needed to concentrate on it. His eyes locked sharply on the images, he studied the lethal creatures while they traveled through the hallways.

  Josh focused on how they moved. He watched the monsters push themselves with their legs and tails while using their six tentacles to maintain their balance. Each tentacle looked about four feet long, and they worked quickly and efficiently together. It was fascinating and terrifying at the same time.

  But his eyes were ultimately drawn to the creatures’ heads. Dark and smooth, with an elongated snout full of hellishly long teeth. And Jesus, those eyes. Those huge, black, shiny, dead eyes.

  Josh was getting nervous. He could feel fear begin to overtake him.

  No fear, he told himself. They’re just animals. Deadly animals, of course, between the dagger-like claws, the toxin within them, and the razor-sharp teeth. But they were still just animals.

  This would be nothing more than a hunt. Plain and simple. Captain Moody forced himself to continue watching to study his enemy.

  No fear.

  CHAPTER 24

  The procession of vehicles pulled into town around noon. They moved slowly through Main Street, coming from the west. A black Dodge Charger led the way and three silver Ford Utility SUVs followed, all with the blue-and-gold STATE TROOPER emblem adorning the sides.

  The line of cars parked in front of the police station. Seeing the arriving visitors through the window, Mason went outside to welcome them.

  The driver-side door of the Charger opened. Josh Moody stepped out, stood, and stretched his arms upward. He was tall and quite fit, looking much younger than his age of forty. He had a pronounced chin and nose, and wore his golden-brown hair in a high and spiky military cut, faded on the sides. As Mason approached the captain, the doors of the other vehicles opened and a dozen troopers emerged.

  “Good to see you again, Sheriff,” Captain Moody smiled, extending his right hand. “Except you weren’t sheriff then. You were just the young town hero.”

  Mason shook his hand firmly. “Good to see you too, Captain.” He then acknowledged the rest of the troopers with a genial nod.

  “Sorry we were too late last time,” said Josh. “We missed all the action.”

  “Well this time you’re in luck,” Mason replied. “You’re gonna get all the action you want, where we’re going.”

  Captain Moody’s smile toned down as a stoic demeanor settled in. “We’re here to help however we can. Why don’t we all go sit somewhere so you can fill us in?”

  “You got it. The mayor’s expecting us, so let’s head on over to City Hall. There’s room there for us all to sit and figure out a game plan.”

  “Okay.” The trooper motioned for his crew to return to their vehicles. Then he started his Charger and waited for the sheriff to lead them to their destination.

  The townspeople on the sidewalks paused to watch the State Patrol vehicles following the sheriff’s car. Mason brought the group of cruisers to the town hall building, steering into the graveled parking lot. Once everybody was out of their vehicles, they followed Mason up the wooden steps and inside.

  “Hello, Jenn,” said Mason when he saw the receptionist at the desk. “We’re here to meet with the mayor.”

  The short-haired woman called Mayor Vargas to inform him of his visitors. “Mayor, Sheriff Parker’s here to see you.”

  “Excellent,” said the voice on the other end. “Show them to the conference room, please. We’ll meet you there.”

  “Alrighty.” Jenn turned to the guests. “Would y’all follow me, please?”

  The receptionist led them to the end of the hall. She opened the door and stepped inside a spacious room with a large table in the center. While the group filed in, Jenn picked up the remote control from the table to turn off the TV that was quietly muttering on the wall. There was a news story showing oval objects on a beach, with a graphic on the screen saying something about strange objects washing ashore in North Carolina. Jenn pressed the power button on the remote and the image quickly disappeared, leaving nothing but a lifeless screen.

  “The mayor will be in momentarily,” said Jenn as the group of men and women sat at the table. Then she left them to return to her post.

  A minute later the mayor entered the room. He was accompanied by Denise, whom he had called in to be part of this gathering. The pair took the two vacant chairs at the head of the table.

  “Hello, everyone,” said the mayor. “I suppose introductions are in order. I’m Mayor Sully Vargas, this is our marine biologist Denise Baddington, and of course this is Sheriff Parker. Let’s go around the table, shall we?”

  Sitting next to Mason, Josh started the roll call. “I’m Captain Josh Moody, and these are some of the state’s best and brightest.” He nodded to his colleagues, who began identifying themselves to Mason and the mayor.

  “Billy York.”

  “Miguel Romero.”

  “Tanisha Williams.”

  “Tim Peavey.”

  “Clarence Burkett.”

  “Laura Rudeman.”

  “Jayme Lamparelli.”

  “Darrell Thomas.”

  “Don Horton.”

  “Frank Donaldson.”

  “Bradley Simons.”

  And finally, “Vince Manning.”

  “Where shall we begin?” said Mayor Vargas, looking around the table. “Is everybody up to speed on what we’re dealing with?”

  “I’ve given them a brief synopsis,” said Captain Moody, “plus whatever they’d seen on TV when the news went viral last year.”

  “Mason,” the mayor suggested, “why don’t you give us all a rundown on what these sliggers are like up close, and a complete report on what you found on the island? I think that will benefit everybody here.”

  “Of course,” said Mason. He gathered his thoughts for a moment to ensure a thorough portrayal. “These monsters are man-sized, maybe a little shorter. They’re usually in the water. They have six tentacles – three on each side – that are about four feet long. And each one is armed with a sharp, white claw that holds an extremely lethal venom. So keeping your distance from these things cannot be overstated.”

  “We’re not planning on going in the water, are we?” queried Miguel concernedly.

  “No, no,” Mason assured. “We’ll engage them when they’re on land, where the odds are more even.”

  “They stand on two legs, r
ight?” asked Tanisha, remembering artist renditions she had seen on TV when the story broke last year.

  Denise nodded. “Yes, they walk on hind legs. With webbed feet. And they have a heavy, reptilian tail that helps them maintain their balance.”

  “And their speed,” Mason pointed out. “They use their tails to push forward when they attack. And they keep their tentacles working like arms that pull them along the way.”

  The group around the table was riveted, and some of their faces had grown a little pale. “Where do they live?” asked Billy.

  “We accidentally found an entrance to an underground cavern,” said Mason, “under the one mountainous part of the island. We found a sligger egg pool inside, as well as an old, burned Nazi U-boat from World War II.”

  “Captain Moody told us something about a Nazi U-boat,” said Vince. “You think these things were created as a result of some biological warfare experiment?”

  “At least indirectly,” said Mason. “What we found did suggest that the Nazis were up to something regarding genetic mutations. When we went inside the sub, we saw bodies that had been dead a long time, some Nazi paraphernalia, a ship’s log written in what looked like German, and then the remains of a medical lab. Including a big, plastic container that looked like it was used to store bloody waste. It had ruptured – probably during the explosion and fire – and spilled its contents out into the ocean water. Our guess is that whatever leaked into the ocean mutated ocean life until what finally came about were the sliggers. But of course we don’t know exactly what they had been storing in that waste tank.”

  “Do you have that ship’s log?” asked Josh. “That might tell us.”

  “No,” Mason said regretfully. “It was lost with everything else when our boat exploded and sank.”

  “That’s a shame,” said Josh. “It would’ve been so cool to read about the Nazi attack plans from their own perspective. Not just the sinking of our supply ships that were Europe-bound, but also if there was any mention of planned artillery strikes to the mainland. The Type VII U-boats definitely had that capability.”