Primeval Waters

by William Burke

  He snapped open the case, switching on the wireless receiver. Satisfied it was working, he lugged the case closer to the Anomaly.

  Batista turned back to Micah, proudly displaying the wireless detonator. “I’m setting the timer for two minutes. I can jog to shore in that time. Can you? Looks like you’ll have a front row seat, so enjoy the show.”

  He pressed the button, initiating the countdown. He was preparing to hoist the eighty-pound bomb into the hole when something latched on to his leg.

  Batista shouted, “Goddammit!”

  Hans’s intact arm was locked around Batista’s ankle. In a barely audible voice, the Austrian pleaded, “Don’t, please.”

  Batista slammed the case down on Hans’s head then grabbed the Austrian by the throat and heaved him over the side of the platform. The wounded man sank like a stone.

  Micah kept crawling, groping through the ground fog for something to stop Batista. His hand came to rest on what felt like a pistol grip. Pulling it closer he realized it was the laser torch. The LED light on its side was flashing green—fully charged.

  Batista hoisted the heavy case up, preparing to lob it into the hole.

  Raising the laser torch, Micah squeezed the trigger. With a hiss of gas, the tip lit up a brilliant red.

  A pencil-thin line of flame zipped across Batista’s waistline. The big man froze in place, every muscle tensed. The case slammed down onto the platform. Batista tried to bend down and pick it up, but his upper torso snapped off at the waist, toppling into the water. His severed lower half stood there, teetering in place until the knees buckled. It flopped down onto the platform, legs still twitching. There was no blood from the cauterized wound, just the stench of burnt flesh.

  Micah realized the wireless detonator’s control had gone over the side with Batista’s upper half. He staggered toward the case of explosives, blood jetting from his gunshot wound with each step. For an instant he considered tossing it into the lake.

  No, that still might send the Anomaly into overdrive.

  Micah popped the case open, but all he saw inside were sheets of epoxy embedded with ball bearings. He yanked out the sheet, uncovering blocks of plastic explosive and a cigarette pack-sized electronic box. The box was wired to a baby-sized stick of dynamite—the blasting cap.

  Muttering, “Screw it,” he yanked the electronic box and blasting cap free, hurling them into the water. A second later, it exploded with a muffled thud, followed by a three-foot geyser.

  Micah peered out over the platform. Batista’s upper half was still alive, thrashing in the water. He thought, Sliced in half and thrown into the Amazon, just like Aguirre.

  Something shot up from beneath the surface, latching on to Batista’s arm. With two savage bites it tore the limb off. More of the four-foot brown fish attacked, dragging him under the water.

  Micah muttered, “Megapiranha.” Then he had the terrifying realization, It’s still manifesting protectors, and it’s not going to stop.

  He limped closer to the leaking helium tank, letting it blow across his bullet wound. The frigid mist staunched the bleeding while numbing the pain. He heard the roar of the gunboat’s water jets in the distance and wracked his brain to come up with a plan. Everything he’d learned about the Anomaly raced through his mind, until something Hans had said finally stuck.

  It reacts to energy by producing a counter burst of energy orders of magnitude greater.

  He studied the equipment at hand, thinking, It might work.

  Moments later, Catalina pulled alongside. Micah positioned himself near the ruptured tank, using the helium mist to conceal his gunshot wound.

  Catalina asked, “Jesus, what happened? Did you find Batista?”

  Micah said, “Yeah, but he had to split,” and forced himself to smile at his subpar 007 witticism.

  Catalina wasn’t amused. “Get in the boat.”

  “Uh-uh. New plan. I need you to draw that thing over here.”

  “Are you nuts?”

  The tribal warriors peered over her shoulder, pointing at the severed legs kicking on the platform.

  Micah said, “Probably.”

  “Get in the fucking boat or we’ll drag you—”

  “No! I need to shut it down. It’s creating more protectors and it may never stop. We don’t have time to argue.”

  Seeing no point in debating, Catalina asked, “Alright, what do you need?”

  “Just draw that thing to me, and as soon as it’s here, run. You’ll need to get to the other side of the crater rim, like fast.”

  “What about you?”

  “Don’t worry; I’ll be fine. Just do it, please!”

  “Alright, but if you blow yourself up, I’ll come back and kick your ass.” And she gunned the water jets.

  Micah watched the boat tearing across the water then looked at the components at his disposal. His plan was feasible, with the exception of one colossal flaw.

  It was suicide.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The gunboat zipped across the water, heading straight for the creature. Catalina saw five of Batista’s men firing at it while falling back towards the demolished dam. The creature snapped one up in its claws, jamming him into its vertical mouth.

  The lead warrior grabbed Catalina’s shoulder and pointed at the creature while whistling a mile a minute.

  Catalina said, “Yeah, I get it, we’re goin’ in the wrong direction.” Though she had no love for Batista’s men, she couldn’t just stand by and watch them be slaughtered. She switched on the PA system, shouting, “Hey, you ugly mother, over here!”

  But the creature just continued its rampage. One of Batista’s men threw down his rifle, making a mad dash for the dam. The creature took three giant strides, crushing him beneath its foot. The surviving men threw down their empty rifles, scrambling in opposite directions. The creature snapped one of them up in its claws.

  Catalina brought the boat around, running parallel to the shore. Holding the AK-47 with one hand she let off a three-round burst. They all missed.

  She muttered, “I can’t drive and shoot.”

  Sensing her dilemma, the warriors raised their bows, loosing eight arrows. Despite firing from a moving boat, they were a hundred percent accurate. Most struck the creature’s chest, but one arrow lodged itself in its eye. It bellowed in pain and rage, turning its attention to the boat.

  Catalina yelled, “That sure pissed him off!” Then she keyed the boat’s PA and, remembering her state fair experience, began singing, “Beautiful Nebraska, peaceful prairie land, laced with many rivers, and the hills of sand,” while spinning the boat around to hold its attention.

  The enraged creature waded into the lake, lumbering towards them. Fortunately, the water level had risen to almost ten feet, slowing its stride.

  Catalina cranked up the water jets, but even at fifteen knots the creature was right on their tail. She glanced over at the platform. The breeze was blowing the helium mist away from them.

  Turning to the lead warrior, she said, “What say we go once around the lake then come in on the downwind side? That might give him a little smoke screen… And you don’t understand a word I’m saying.”

  He stared at her like she was insane.

  Catalina hit the PA again, belting out, “Beautiful Nebraska, as you look around, you will find a rainbow, reaching to the ground.”

  #

  Micah scrambled to put his plan into action, starting with the electrical feed from the shore. Donning a pair of insulated gloves, he opened the distribution box and killed the bull switch. A pair of thick cables ran from that distribution box into a smaller switch box. He disconnected the pair of black and red copper “suicide pins” running out of it and kicked the useless switch box into the lake. Next, he set down the crowbar, laying the suicide pin cables at either end. The laser torch’s LED was flashing red but still had enough juice to spot weld the positive and negative cables to either end of the bar.

  The water rushing in fro
m the dam had raised the lake’s level. The far end of the causeway was already underwater, and water was lapping at the platform’s edge. It would be underwater soon, shorting out the generator lines.

  A Megapiranha leapt onto the platform. It came at Micah, moving much faster than a fish out of water should. He jabbed it with the tip of the laser torch, using its last charge to fry its skull. The dying fish rolled onto its back, fins thrashing. Micah saw that its pectoral fins had reshaped themselves into small, mudskipper style limbs.

  “They’re evolving.”

  Three more of these evolved Megapiranhas had leapt onto the causeway and were waddling towards him.

  He saw the boat about three quarters of a mile away, coming in fast, the creature only twenty feet behind. Its long arms lashed out, coming just short of the boat.

  Micah looked around for something to get the creature’s attention. He saw the pistol still tucked into Batista’s belt and dug it out.

  The boat’s PA system crackled, and Catalina’s distorted voice boomed, “I’m coming in fast and cutting right. Hope you’re ready!”

  #

  Catalina glanced back. The creature was right behind them. Slowing down, even for a second, would make them easy meat. But just zipping past the target might inspire it to follow her, rather than staying at the platform.

  Grabbing the PA microphone, she shouted, “Micah, if you’re gonna get its attention, now would be a good time!”

  She came straight at the platform doing fifteen knots, her hands gripping the water jet controls. She started counting down, “Five, four, three—”

  The warriors stared at the oncoming platform, whistling like a flock of deranged birds.

  Catalina yanked one water jet control back and the other forward without slowing down.

  The gunboat pivoted one hundred and eighty degrees. For an instant it hung stationary in the water. The creature stood directly overhead, staring down at them.

  Catalina jammed both water jet controls, rocketing the boat forward, zipping right between its legs. The sudden acceleration threw the warriors down onto the deck.

  #

  Micah raised the pistol in one hand while yanking the front of the super capacitor’s Faraday cage loose with the other. He fired five shots at the creature, most hitting the target.

  The creature turned away, still focused on the boat zipping between its legs.

  Micah fired two more shots, finally getting its attention. It took a few giant steps towards him—coming way too fast. It would be on him in a minute, and he desperately needed two.

  #

  Catalina glanced back and saw the creature as it moved in on the platform.

  “You better know what you’re doing!”

  The warriors were sprawled across the pilothouse floor. She wondered how much more of this insanity they’d take without mutinying.

  Micah had been adamant about them being on the other side of the crater rim. With the jets going full bore she steered toward the far end of the lake with no idea how much time they had to escape.

  #

  Micah felt something brush his foot and jumped back. The lead Megapiranha waddled forward, gnashing at the air. Without thinking, he lowered the pistol and fired into the top of its skull, narrowly missing his own foot.

  The creature was still advancing, only seconds away from the platform.

  Micah yelled, “Think, stupid, think!” Then he dashed to the edge of the platform, kicking the intact helium tank over the side. It bobbed in the churning water. Micah aimed the pistol, fired once and missed. His second shot hit the tank. The rupture released a cloud of frigid white mist, billowing toward the oncoming creature. More helium sprayed across the water, vaporizing on contact. The arctic cloud forced the creature to pause.

  Micah had just bought himself a few seconds—the downside was that he couldn’t see a damn thing in the fog. After wasting precious seconds groping, he found the crowbar and jammed it against the super capacitor. Next, he grabbed the Faraday cage’s metal grid door and laid it on the platform, trying to bridge the super capacitor to the probe. It fell three feet short.

  He needed something conductive. Anything. Glancing around he saw something that would work.

  “Water, salt and chloride … everything I need.”

  He grabbed Batista’s severed lower half by the feet and slipped. The helium cloud had turned the wet platform into a hockey rink. On the plus side the ice had slowed down the waddling Megapiranhas.

  He dragged Batista’s lower half over to the Anomaly, yanked its shoes off and laid the bare feet on the cage. Using the laser torch like a spear he jammed it into Batista’s cauterized torso and propped it against the Anomaly. The body would likely incinerate within seconds, but the Anomaly’s defenses should activate by that point.

  “You’re getting a Viking funeral.”

  A claw shot down through the haze, its taloned fingers groping blindly. Micah pumped a bullet into its fingertip at point-blank range. The claw retreated for a moment then came back down, sweeping across the platform. Micah tried to fire again, but the pistol clicked empty.

  The groping talon inched closer. An attacking Megapiranha mistook it for Micah, locking its jaws around it. The talon retreated with the fish latched on.

  Micah crawled over to the power distribution box and realized that when he turned on the high-voltage power, the box’s breaker would trip, defeating the purpose. He grabbed the breaker unit and yanked hard. The solid component came out, leaving an empty void he needed to fill. Thinking fast, he popped the clip out of the empty pistol, wedging it into the gap. It was like jamming a penny in a fuse box, only a thousand times more dangerous.

  The claw shot down, tearing away a chunk of the causeway behind him. Thankfully the high-voltage AC line running from shore remained intact.

  Micah crouched, gripping the distribution box’s bull switch, muttering, “Now or never.”

  He’d just built the mother of all Tesla coils, capable of producing a combination of high-voltage, electromagnetic pulse and X-ray radiation.

  The reaction will be orders of magnitude greater.

  Staying on the platform would reduce him to ashes, but jumping into the about to be electrified piranha-infested lake was also suicide.

  He looked up through the thinning layer of fog and saw the creature rear up, arching its back. Its huge bat-like wings unfurled. With one mighty flap it blew away the last of the fog.

  Micah whispered, “I love you, Faye,” and threw the bull switch.

  At that same moment the creature’s talon swept across the platform, catapulting him back. The impact sent him skidding across the icy surface like a hockey puck, flailing for anything to grab. He latched on to something a heartbeat before going over. It was the edge of the hole in the Anomaly. His insulated glove stuck to the helium cooled cut like Velcro.

  The AC charged crowbar lit up like a bolt of lightning, sending high-voltage alternating current surging through the fully charged DC super capacitor—a clash of electrical titans.

  Micah’s insulated gloves and rubber-soled boots protected him from the initial surge. But things were about to get a hundred times worse.

  He pulled himself up, thinking, Screw it, and dove headfirst into the hole. His feet were still outside when a blinding flash transformed the platform into a lightning farm. The rubber soles on his boots melted, but he made it through the hole.

  And into the void.

  #

  Catalina saw the initial flash behind them, followed by giant tendrils of lightning leaping into the air.

  It’s happening.

  She was only seconds from reaching the shore but elected not to slow down. An old James Bond movie flashed through her mind—the one where speed boats jumped over embankments and cars. The crater’s upward slope was like a ramp—sort of. The gunboat hurtled forward, skimming across the water at thirty knots.

  “Hang on!”

  The boat hit the shore and shot out of the wa
ter, sheer inertia propelling it up the sloping crater rim.

  At that moment the Anomaly’s protective shell reacted to Micah’s Tesla coil.

  The platform and causeway vanished in a bloom of white light, brighter than the sun.

  The gunboat cleared the grade, going airborne. It spun in midair, the bow tipping straight down, plummeting toward the ground forty feet below.

  Staring down into her impending death, Catalina thought, Movies are so full of shit.

  But the ground stopped coming closer—or, rather, the boat ceased falling. Catalina held on to the controls with a white-knuckle grip as her feet rose from the floor.

  Through the window she watched downed branches and logs float upward, bouncing against the hull. The warriors were swept into the air, becoming plastered against the overhead, wide-eyed with terror.

  Catalina thought, Micah just broke the laws of gravity.

  And then, in the duration of one long breath, the gravity ramped up again from zero, to lunar, to normal.

  The gunboat slammed down onto the muddy ground, the sloping gravity reducing its impact velocity by half. Catalina was thrown against the bulkhead. The warriors all dropped onto the deck. With gravity restored, branches and logs rained down on the hull.

  Catalina tasted blood in her mouth and spat it out, along with her two front teeth. She stood up, feeling bruised but not broken. The boat lay on its side, forcing her to crawl across the moaning warriors to get out.

  A torrential downpour of water and ash rained down from the sky, coating her in filth. She scrambled up the crater’s rim and gazed out. The inner rim of the crater lake was now scorched charcoal black and a phosphorescent haze hung over the water.

  She thought, If we’d been on this side of the rim we would have been toast.

  A dead Megapiranha slapped to the ground next to her, bursting like a water balloon on impact. More dropped from the sky, sounding like drumbeats as they slapped to the ground.

  Catalina strained to see through the haze and ash. The Christmas ornament was still there but was now glowing a soft blue. The creature, the platform and the causeway were gone—vaporized.