Solstice

by Lorence Alison

  Marx’s smile wavered just a little. I knew I was right.

  “How’d you swing that?” Paul challenged. “You must have bought the half of this island for nearly nothing. Were you just figuring that no investigator would dare come over here after they heard the rumor that Diab is real? Did you insure the place for far more than it’s worth, saying you were going to build hotels here, resorts, shopping malls?” His eyes bugged out. “Someone actually insured you for that?”

  “Damn right someone insured me for that.” Marx’s eyes were steely and cold. “And my lawyers can make a case for all the potential growth I had planned here. The joke’s on you.”

  “Do you even hear yourself?” Paul screamed. “The joke’s on me? You know, that thing in the water isn’t the monster in this story. You are.”

  Marx’s fingers tapped on the flare gun. He wanted to use it again. He could aim it right at us, sending Diab and its bovine-size tongue and its brick-size teeth, sharpened to points, straight for this raft. The brazenness of his actions infuriated me. This was a greedy man’s egotistical scheme. Oh, let’s just kill some spoiled rich kids. A few dozen lost lives won’t matter!

  I curled up my fists. But in that moment, through some sort of invisible signal, Marx’s boat lurched away from our raft. Paul shifted forward, losing his balance, scrambling midair to dive for us. He landed on the raft hard, both Elena and I nearly toppling into the water. We dragged Paul fully into the raft and then looked up. The yacht was already too far for us to reach. Marx waved to us, a wide grin on his face.

  “Have fun staying away from Diab!” he cried gleefully. “You’re gonna need it!”

  And then he reached into Mosley’s knapsack, brought out a huge handful of glow sticks, and tossed them into the air … straight for us.

  23

  I STARED IN HORROR at the glow sticks as they landed with a thud in the bottom of our raft. There had to be at least twenty of them, all bundled together in a neat bunch. They glowed an unnaturally bright yellow and were a perfect beacon for a hungry Diab.

  “Quick, douse the light,” Paul said.

  I yanked off my hoodie and tossed it over the sticks. Only a soft glow emanated through—hopefully, it wouldn’t attract the creature’s attention. Then I looked at the others. “What the hell are we going to do?”

  Paul stared at the water. Elena had sunk to her knees and was sobbing. Our boat rippled with a sudden current, and I tipped onto my side, grappling wildly for something to keep my balance. I could feel the creature moving below us. Circling. It still wanted more. It wanted us.

  Paul pointed toward Marx’s receding yacht. “We have to go after him.” Then his face brightened with a thought. “Noises,” he whispered. “Strange noises sometimes confuse Diab. That’s in my research.”

  “What k-kind of noises?” Elena stammered. “What do we need to do?”

  Another great slosh of a wave rose up to our left. We covered our heads as it crashed over us, soaking our bodies, threatening to tip the raft. Amazingly, we stayed upright. As I looked into the water, I saw a flicker of the city-block-size creature, only feet below the surface. A few giant bubbles rose to the surface. I could smell its stench.

  Paul revved the small outboard motor. The noise startled Elena and me—but it also seemed to scare Diab, because the water beneath me shifted and then settled. I looked at Paul encouragingly as we zipped forward. “I think it dove down deeper,” I said.

  Paul nodded. “Sudden noises seem to do that. But there’s a problem. We’re almost out of gas.”

  “Then what do we do?” Elena cried.

  Paul nodded. “I have an idea.” He gripped the steering wheel and revved the engine again, zooming toward Marx’s yacht. For thirty seconds, I didn’t feel the creature on our tail—the water was calm, easy, unthreatening. But then came a bump. And another. And another. I glanced over my shoulder and could see the dark shadow just below the surface once again. The creature might have been afraid of the engine sounds before, but it had gotten over it fast. The smooth top of its head crested out of the water, bumping us again. One of its eyes, positioned eerily on its forehead, tilted upward, seemingly staring right at the boat.

  I moved as far away from the back of the raft as I could until I was almost in Paul’s lap. “Paul,” I said hysterically, gesturing to the water.

  “Just hold on.” Paul was concentrating on the ocean ahead. Surprisingly, we were almost right alongside the yacht again. Marx was no longer on the deck watching us. Perhaps he hadn’t wagered we’d live after his little glow-stick trick? Maybe he didn’t think we had the balls to chase him down?

  Another bump. Then something slapped the side of the boat. I looked down in horror—it was the creature’s tongue.

  I wobbled forward, crashing into Elena. “Paul!” I screamed. The thing knew we were on board. It felt like any moment, it could leap out of the water and just … attack.

  But Paul was still staring at Marx’s yacht. After a moment, he stuck two fingers in his mouth and let out a piercing whistle. Elena and I cowered. I glanced to the side of the raft, hoping it frightened Diab, too, but it was still lurking only inches down, almost like it was waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

  A figure stepped onto the yacht’s deck. Marx stared at us as though we were annoying mosquitos he needed to swat. His gaze flicked to the back of the raft, and the corners of his lips curled into a bemused grin. He saw the creature, too. He knew it was ready to pounce. Marx was probably relishing this, thinking, Lovely! I’m going to get to see it eat them!

  “Paul,” I said, shutting my eyes. I felt Diab rumbling beneath me, gathering its strength. This was how my life would end: in a random ocean, off a random island, on an impulsive and irresponsible trip because I thought my life was too boring. I’d never get to say goodbye to my parents, my sister, my brother. I’d never get to talk to Hayden again. I’d never get to see what Hayden was about. I’d never get to be a lawyer or a doctor or a reporter. I’d become one of those people in Paul’s scrapbook, another strange death on Myla Island.

  I grabbed Elena’s hand—she was the only solace I had. At least my friend was with me. At least we were going to do this together. Elena met my gaze, her face a mask of desperate fear. “It’s okay,” I told her gently, squeezing hard. “I love you.”

  Another lurch from the back of the boat. Marx’s eyes up on the deck shone with glee. I heard an angry little voice inside me speak up. Adri! You’re smarter than this! You have a weapon right on board! Use it!

  But I had no idea what my inner voice meant. Weapon? What weapon? Still, I opened my eyes, my knees bumping against something hard and plastic on the bottom of the raft. I stared at my wet, crumpled hoodie, remembering what it concealed. I did have a weapon. The glow sticks. If we aimed just right, we could toss them back onto the yacht … and lure Diab straight to Marx.

  I went to grab the sticks under my hoodie. My fingers bumped Paul’s—he had the idea, too. This was probably why he’d chased the yacht all along. He gathered the sticks in his hand, but a buzz overhead made us both look up in alarm. “Oh no!” I cried. Marx’s yacht had suddenly veered away from us, leaving behind a white, frothy wake. Marx was waving once more.

  “No!” Elena screamed.

  We felt a whoosh from behind. The creature, spotting the glow sticks in Paul’s hand, exploded off the right side of the raft, showing a thick, meaty underbelly that was the color of vomit. There was the indentation of something large below its skin, right about where its gut would be. I could make out a hand, what looked like a leg. Oh God—was it Zack in there?

  “Drop them!” I cried, yanking the glow sticks from Paul’s hands and covering them with the hoodie once more. The creature was still in the air—that was how huge it was, how high it could get into the sky. I gaped at it again, one large, smooth worm. Where had the tentacles gone? How did it even move through the water? It’s body, high in the air, loomed over our tiny vessel. I flattened against the bottom o
f the boat, certain the moment would be my last.

  Water droplets splashed on my arms and legs. I felt a great crash and heard screams in my ears—maybe my screams. The boat rocked and tipped, and I was thrown into the water. I felt my body sink down and fought for the surface. I felt something brush past me—it was slimy and strong, slippery and eerily cold—and I realized, Oh God, the monster. Oh God, it’s going to find me. I screamed beneath the water. I struggled for the surface, but already I was running out of air. I opened my eyes, at first seeing just murkiness, but then I spotted a few pinpricks of light heading right for me. It was the creature’s eyes—glowing, bulging, seeing. I felt my lungs give out. And then I felt hands pull me up.

  I coughed and coughed as Paul pulled me back onto the raft. He set me down on the floor and turned me on my side, shouting, “Breathe! Breathe!” I opened my eyes. Elena, also soaked, was lying next to me. Paul was clutching my now-waterlogged hoodie. I could just make out the glow sticks shining underneath.

  “Come on!” he screamed, once he realized I was okay. “We only have one chance to get this right!”

  I blinked hard, shivering at what I’d just encountered—the monster touching me, its fluorescent eyes coming at me in the darkness. Elena lifted herself to her elbows, looking dazed and traumatized, too. How had the creature missed me? I owed Paul my life. And then I realized something else: The raft was alongside Marx’s boat again. How had that happened? Had the wave pushed us there? I stared groggily up at the massive yacht. Marx was still standing on the deck, except now he didn’t look so happy.

  I scrambled to my knees, realizing what we needed to do. I could feel Diab’s vibrations below the raft—we definitely couldn’t waste any time. I felt my fingers curl around the glow sticks beneath the hoodie. Paul nodded and pulled up so that we were parallel to Marx. The yacht was racing, but the Zodiac held its pace. Underneath us, the creature shook its giant bulk, surely preparing to breach once more—and definitely consume us this time.

  Paul, hands tightly gripping the wheel, gave me a final look. I nodded. I was going to be the one to throw the sticks, but I was ready. It would take one carefully positioned toss. Get it wrong, and we’d never live to tell the story.

  My heart thundered. My hands shook badly. Elena stared at me with large, round, terrified eyes. But then, suddenly, a strange calm came over me. I could do this. I had to do this. There was no way this selfish, self-absorbed, heartless man could get away with all these deaths and exploitation. People needed to know the truth.

  The boat was even with Marx now, but I could feel the Zodiac’s engine sputtering. We were definitely on empty. I gripped the bunched-up hoodie in my hands. There was a spotlight over Marx’s head, and he stared down at me almost daringly, as if to say, Okay, so you hate me, but what are you going to do about it?

  The engine coughed, then died. “Shit,” Paul said. He tried to restart it a few times … and mercifully, it crackled back to life. We rocked violently with a new series of waves—the creature was ready to make its move. If there was any time to do this, it was now. And so, gathering my strength, settling my nerves, uttering a tiny prayer under my breath, I unearthed the glow sticks from beneath the hoodie, raised them over my head, and let them go.

  The bundle flew through the air in a perfect arc. They left a stream of glowing light through the night sky. I saw, too, the creature rise up through the water almost gracefully. It leaped over us, toward us, its mouth gaping hungrily, saliva dripping from its jaws. I got a look fully into its mouth: at least ten rows of teeth, and that terrifying tongue, and a darkness down its throat. Its multiple eyes landed on me a moment, mid-flight. But this time, I held its gaze. It’s not us you want, I tried to tell it. It’s Marx.

  The creature blinked, almost like it could read my thoughts. Then its gaze moved elsewhere. It followed the trail of the glow sticks—up, up, up, until they landed perfectly on the deck of the yacht, right at Marx’s feet.

  Time stood still as Marx stared down at the glow sticks in alarm. He raised his head and saw the creature bearing down on him, its body large enough to crush the yacht, its mouth so huge it would swallow him whole in one gulp. Disbelief registered on Marx’s face … and then terror. And then time sped up, whizzing ahead as though someone had pushed the fast-forward button on a video. Diab crashed into Marx’s yacht with such a force that it knocked the hulking thing on its side with a horrible groan. It plowed across the boat, using its massive bulk to heft itself forward. The tentacles I’d seen earlier sprouted from its head again—just like the retractable awning at my abuela’s house—and then it moved, spider-like, across the length of the yacht, taking out whole decks, staircases, pool furniture, chandeliers. I heard breaking glass. Cracking wood. I smelled something burning, and then stomach juices, and then blood. A tidal wave rose up, cascading over us and knocking us deep into the water once more.

  I swam to the surface, spluttering. The raft was tipped over only a few feet away, and I paddled for it, struggling to turn it upright again and climb inside. “Elena!” I cried, noticing her bobbing head a few feet away. I grabbed an oar that was floating and stretched it to her. Elena grabbed on weakly, and I pulled her toward me. Coughing, gasping, we both lay on the bottom of the raft, shell-shocked. Then I sat up in alarm. Paul. Where was he? Had Diab eaten him?

  A snuffle sounded from the direction of the engine. “Shit,” Paul said, and suddenly there he was, gripping the side of the raft. I let out a grateful squeal, wanting to hug him. Elena and I helped drag him on board. And then we all sat, shivering, stunned, for a few long moments.

  “Is it … gone?” Elena dared to ask.

  Paul squinted into the darkness where Marx’s yacht had been. I followed his gaze … but all I saw was water. I glanced at Paul in confusion, then back again. Where was the yacht? Had it sunk?

  “I—I think it ate the whole boat,” Paul finally said. And then he started to laugh. “I guess it was hungry!”

  “H-how is that even possible?” Elena said.

  “I don’t know.” Paul was laughing hard now. “But with this thing, anything’s possible.”

  I wanted to laugh, too, but I felt way too rattled. I felt the bottom of the raft, trying to sense the creature’s vibrations below. It knew we were still up here. What if it was coming for us?

  But a few minutes passed. No vibrations. The sea felt calmer than it had been all day. Finally, Paul turned to me, then put his hand over mine. “It’s okay,” he said. “I really think it’s okay.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked, suddenly feeling tears running down my cheeks.

  “If it had just eaten Marx, I’d say no. But it devoured everyone else on that yacht … and the yacht itself.” Paul shook his head. “I’ve read enough historical accounts. Diab goes on a feeding frenzy, but it’s like a bear—after it’s satisfied, it hibernates. Myla residents won’t see it for years.”

  “Years?” Elena stared nervously into the ocean.

  “Yep. That’s traditionally what’s happened, anyway. That’s why the strange deaths occur so sporadically. The thing eats and eats, then sleeps.” He turned to me and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “You did it. If you hadn’t thrown that thing just right, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

  “You did it, Adri,” Elena concurred, throwing her body against mine in a vicious hug.

  I hugged her back, suddenly feeling all kinds of emotions well over me. Before I knew it, I was sobbing. From the shock of it all, maybe. From adrenaline. From the pure hell of the past few days. But also, I was so grateful we were all okay. We were going to live. We could save everyone else. And Marx was gone. Diab was sated. It was tragic that it had feasted on people—that people were led straight into its trap—but it was over now. I was going to get to go home, after all.

  I was so consumed by these swirling feelings that I didn’t notice the humming engine or the sudden presence of something very, very large in our midst until it was almost next to us. When I looked up and saw t
he huge yacht sailing our way, every nerve in my body snapped. Was it Marx? Had the boat risen from the deep?

  Except this yacht had pink lights, not blue ones. There wasn’t a negative-edge pool on the nose but a vast garden full of lush plants and flowers. I blinked hard as the giant vessel sailed next to us and someone stepped to the railing in a pose eerily similar to Marx’s just moments before. “What the hell is going on?” called a voice.

  My brain stalled. It was a familiar voice. But it couldn’t be. I had to be dreaming. Maybe I was dead.

  “We saw something huge rise up from the water!” the voice—female, husky, sexy, inviting—went on. “And then it just took out that yacht! You okay? Why don’t you come on board?”

  My heart was fluttering wildly. And then the woman stepped into the light, confirming it for me: She was a tall, angular, beautiful woman with large, catlike eyes and a mischievous smile. I was used to seeing her in diva gowns or all-black catsuits that matched her backup dancers and not a T-shirt and jeans, which she was wearing today … but it was still her.

  Lavender. My favorite person in the world.

  My jaw dropped open. “You’re still … here?” I said, immediately wanting to kick myself.

  But Lavender just laughed. “Yeah, baby. I’m still here.”

  24

  YOU’D THINK I’D HAVE BEEN more starstruck and fangirly when I boarded Lavender’s megayacht, but after the few days I’d had, I was barely fazed. I guess coming face-to-face with a one-of-a-kind, prehistoric-looking, human-eating sea beast named Diab did that to a person.

  Lavender welcomed us aboard. When she offered her open arms for a hug, I walked straight into them, thinking, You know what? I deserve this. Elena seemed instantly buddy-buddy with the megastar, too, and perhaps that was because Lavender was adorably down-to-earth, downplaying the luxury of her beautiful boat, profusely apologizing that she hadn’t set foot on land yet for the festival because she’d come down with a horrible case of the flu. And after she heard what happened, she was looking at Elena and me like we were the celebrities.