The Sea Below

by William Meikle

  He still felt the same in what passed for a morning. Danny and Stefan were still sitting by the fire and smoking; they might have been there since Ed took to his hut for all he knew. Danny was still in somewhat of a huff and it was Stefan who spoke.

  "We have talked it over," the shepherd said. "And we have had a look at our options. It seems you are right; there is no way back. We will accompany you on the water, if you will have us?"

  "Of course we will have you, and we'll be happy of the company. It will be more cramped than I would like, but I will take a canoe with Bill, George and half the provisions if you take the other?"

  Stefan nodded.

  "Boats and I are strangers to each other, but Danny says he knows their ways. We will be fine."

  They loaded the canoes and launched with little fanfare half an hour later.

  It proved to be relatively easy going. The surface of the underground sea kept perfectly still with not even the hint of a breeze; Ed was able to look down into crystal clear depths and see pale, wafting vegetation many yards below them, a washed-out gray version of the kelps he'd seen off the Orkney coast while climbing on Hoy.

  Bill and George took first dibs on the paddling, leaving Ed free to keep lookout in the prow. His main job was to call out if it looked like they might stray from the line-of-sight course he'd decided on. It was not a difficult line to follow. The island that was their destination could not be seen from their position on the water, but there was a darker patch of roof that provided an ever-present landmark for him to fix on.

  Behind them, Stefan and Danny were also paddling smoothly, both with cigarettes stuck in the side of their mouth while Elsa mimicked Ed's lookout position sitting up proud in the prow of the second canoe. The dog was the only one of the three who looked happy.

  The shore they'd left was already receding away behind them and it was not too long before it could not be distinguished from the cliff wall at its back. Several of the great bats spiralled high up some distance away and Ed eyed them warily but the beasts showed no indication that they were interested in the canoes and they too were soon lost in the distance behind them.

  It was a strangely silent journey. There were no bird calls, no splash of feeding fish and indeed no insect life of any kind that Ed could notice. Several times he bent over the prow to look down into the depths but there was no life to note there either. There was only the slowly wafting fronds of pale vegetation. The only thing of note was the fact that the air became noticeably warmer the further they got from shore and Bill and George had soon worked up a sweat despite the easy going. When he noted that, Ed called for a break. The two canoes came together side by side and Ed shared water from one of their canteens.

  "So far, so tedious. How distant are these bally islands?" Danny asked.

  "By my ready reckoning, we're about a third of the way there," Ed replied. "But distances are deceptive down here in this strange light. I might be half an hour out either way but another two hours feels about right."

  "Let us hope it is less. These canoes float well enough but my arse has gone to sleep and my old knees might never be the same again."

  Stefan laughed at that, and fetched a small deerskin from his bag on the bottom of the vessel.

  "Then have some of this, old friend," he said. "It cures all the ills of men as old as we have become."

  It wasn't water that the shepherd shared but a fiery brandy-like liquor that Ed only sipped at, for it was heady stuff. Danny took to it with some gusto though, and had a healthier color in his cheeks when Ed announced it was time to get going.

  Ed took over paddling duty from Bill for the next phase of the journey and soon fell into an almost trance-like rhythm where all that existed was the metronomic sweep and tug of the paddle against the water. He was surprised when Bill tapped him on the shoulder and pointed forward.

  The islands were in view in the distance. The darker patch that was his sightline was above the right-hand end and the whole archipelago in that direction lay in deeper shadows. Ed decided to aim instead for a lighter spot farther to the left, where the land appeared to be dense in vegetation.

  He called for another water break and they brought the canoes together again.

  Ed pointed out the new destination.

  "Let us hope there is a tavern," Danny said. "Although my old bones might be too tired to accommodate any dancing girls, at least not tonight."

  Bill took over from George for the last stage and on this stretch, Ed couldn't quite lose himself in the rhythm for as the island drew ever closer, he felt the excitement of the explorer rise up in him.

  He paddled faster, eager for land.

  - Danny -

  They were still four hundred yards from what looked to be a rocky shore when Elsa barked loudly. She wasn't looking forward but off to the port side and when Danny looked in that direction it was just in time to see a pale tail fluke slip under the surface some forty yards distant. The tail itself was as wide as one of the canoes was long. It slid beneath the surface with barely a splash.

  Danny had been in whale waters before and knew only too well the dangers that could be posed for small craft such as theirs--and that was even before considering whether the beast he'd just seen was carnivorous or not, or even a whale at all.

  He looked forward to the canoe ahead to see that Ed had also taken note of the beast.

  "To shore," Danny shouted. "Double time."

  He put his shoulders into paddling and between them he and Stefan put on a burst of speed that had them catching the canoe ahead. The beast resurfaced again on the starboard side several minutes later, closer now, as if curious. Danny caught a good long look at a high back that was ridged and rough, more crocodile-like than whale. The back rose, the tail came up then it was gone again. Given the way the fluke had risen up, Danny knew the beast had made only a shallow dive.

  "Eyes open, Shepherd," he said. "There's a beastie on the prowl."

  It could be anywhere, perhaps even underneath them. That thought gave even more impetus to his paddling and the water churned around them as they sped across the surface. Danny saw that the canoe ahead was likewise sending up slapping splashes of water. Too late, he realised that their activity, far from speeding them to safety, might actually be what was drawing the beast towards them.

  "Stop," he shouted. "Quiet."

  But his revelation had come too late. The canoe ahead rose up prow first out of the water, driven upward by something from below. The vessel tipped over, dumping the three men overboard and into the sea where they splashed and yelled, drawing even more attention to themselves.

  "Quiet, you fools," Danny shouted, aware that he was breaking his own advice. He indicated to Stefan that they should go to the three men's aid and turned the canoe toward them. They were still five yards distant when the beast came up again, massive maw first, a dark mouth filled with ivory-pale, pencil thin teeth that clamped around Bill's waist. Blood darkened the water, Bill yelled, just once, more in confusion than pain, then he was gone leaving only a bloody froth of bubbles at the surface. Looking down, Danny saw a gray serpent-like shape descend away from them at speed.

  Danny leaned forward to help Ed up out of the water.

  "Our packs," the younger man shouted. "Get our packs first."

  Stefan had already hauled one of the packs, sodden and heavy with water, up into the bottom of the canoe. Danny reached for the other and saw that George, rather than try to get back into the other canoe, was swimming with strong strokes towards the shore that was now less than a hundred yards distant.

  "Come back, you bloody fool," Danny shouted but got no reply. The other man continued to swim strongly shoreward.

  "Bloody young fool. He's going to get himself eaten."

  It only took them seconds to discover that the first canoe had been badly damaged in the attack and was already lying deeper in the water, starting to sink.

  "All aboard who's coming aboard," Danny muttered, and helped Stefan dra
g a sodden Ed up out of the water and into their canoe which was itself now overburdened and sluggish to their paddling.

  "Softly now," Danny said. "We make for shore, but quietly, Slow, steady strokes, no splashing."

  Ed was looking over the side into the depths.

  "Bill?" he whispered.

  "He's gone, lad," Danny said. "And we're likely to be too in short order if we don't get out of the water."

  They paddled, quietly as Danny had asked, although the temptation to put on a spurt of speed grew ever more insistent in Danny's mind as they approached the shore. All three were casting glances more to the water than to the shore, expecting at any minute for the beast to resurface and take renewed interest in them. Danny eventually looked shoreward to see George pull himself out of the water and up onto the stones where he dropped as if in exhaustion to the ground.

  The next time Danny looked shoreward they were only ten yards from where George stood at the water's edge facing them. Behind the younger man, some ten yards farther up the shore, a forest of pale leafy vegetation loomed, a wall as high as twenty feet in places.

  "Come on," George shouted, waving them forward.

  In response to his call the branches seemed to come alive as if hit by a strong wind, branches thrashing and loose leaves scattering in the air. A raucous howling rose up, a cacophony of barking and yelping.

  "What the blazes is this now?" Danny muttered.

  Beasts came out of the trees, a troop of what at first glance looked to be pale baboons, each as big as a large dog, barrel chested and massive jawed, lips pulled back and grinning as they showed too many teeth. As if propelled by a soundless command they all had their gazes fixed on the young man on the shore. As they left the forest they broke into a run. Danny just had time to note that they, like all creatures they'd seen here in the deep places, bore six limbs then he'd dropped the paddle and was struggling to unholster his pistol.

  He was far too late and knew it before metal left leather. Young George never knew what hit him; he was still facing the water when the first of the apes reached him. It leapt, back legs propelling it high onto the lad's back, its weight toppling him forward. Once he was down there was no chance of him getting back up. The beasts swarmed over him, teeth and clawed fingers biting and digging. Black rod went red as blood flew in the air, sending the beasts into even more frenzy. They tore at the body in fury. George's screams were mercifully brief.

  It was mere seconds after the attack that Stefan and Danny fired in unison. The result was immediate. Two of the beasts fell and the rest scattered back into the trees and were gone as swiftly as they had come. But it was too little, too late for George. His dead eyes watched them accusingly as they beached the canoe and stepped warily ashore.

  - Ed -

  Stefan and Danny went straight to check on the prone man, but Ed didn't move from beside the canoe; he knew already that their checks would be fruitless; George's eyes told all the story he needed to hear.

  "Still think exploration is worth the risk, lad?" Danny said bitterly as he stood from George's body.

  Ed didn't, couldn't, reply. He looked, from the body, to the sea where Bill had vanished, then back to the body, unable to come to terms with the fact that both his friends had gone within minutes of each other, suddenly and without a goodbye, leaving Ed soaked and cold, alone on this rocky shore far from anywhere he might find solace.

  "We need to bury him," Ed said. Danny and Stefan were busy dragging the canoe up what passed for a beach, while Elsa stood guard, her gaze on the trees, a deep growl rumbling in her throat. "We need to say some words."

  "What we need to do is find a safe spot, and sharpish," Danny said. "We don't know how many of yon ape-things there are about here. If they come back in force, they'll run over us, guns or no guns."

  "We can't just leave him lying on the shore," Ed said. "I won't leave him."

  Danny hefted one of the packs from the bottom of the canoe.

  "That's your choice, of course. But I'm taking off. It's him or these," the soldier said. "I'm sorry, lad, but these will do us more good. Loath as I am to leave a fallen man behind, we are in no position to carry him away; there is too much peril in that course. I first came along with you last year to protect you. This is me doing my job. Now come on, at the double. We've done enough jawing here already."

  But even as Danny was turning away, the violent shaking of the foliage started again, accompanied by a cacophony of high barks and wails. Given the extent of the thrashing Ed thought that this whole stretch of shoreline must be infested with the baboons. Elsa barked as two larger individuals dropped out of the foliage to stand upright, not moving, but keeping their gaze on the men on the shore.

  Ed had his first good look at the things that had killed his friend. Baboon was indeed the closest approximation he could come up with although these seemed stockier, more barrel chested than he would have thought. All six limbs were knotted with muscle and the heavy jaws looked more akin to that of a wolf than any monkey, teeth looking disproportionally large in relation to the mouth. Pale blue eyes stared directly at Ed, sending a cold shiver up his spine.

  They looked hungry.

  - Danny -

  "I don't fancy having a running fight along the beach," Danny said. "I suggest we retreat back into the canoe… we can stick close to shore and look for a safe harbor."

  "Then let us hope these beasts have not learned how to swim," Stefan said. The shepherd was having to hold Elsa back; the dog was prepared to launch herself at the two watching beasts given a chance.

  "What about George?" Ed said.

  "There's no room in the canoe," Danny said baldly. He saw that the younger man was hurting, but Ed needed to hear the truth. It was going to be a hard lesson for him to learn. "And perhaps leaving him will serve a purpose; it may keep the baboons off us long enough for us to get away."

  He saw the implication hit Ed hard.

  "You mean to leave him as food?"

  The last word was shouted, a wail of pain. The baboons reacted with screams of their own and when Danny looked over it was to see six of them now standing at the edge of the foliage. It would only take one of them to break ranks for a charge to begin.

  "There's no time to argue, lad," he said and turned to Stefan. "Get the gear back in the canoe. We're leaving."

  The shepherd was wise enough to the situation to not argue and hurried to comply. Ed, however, stepped over and stood before the body of his friend.

  "Can we at least put him in the water, out at sea? I cannot stand the thought of these beasts having him."

  "And would you rather feed yon sea serpent instead?" Danny said, attempting to use the bluntness to get Ed to move, but immediately sorry for the new pain he saw cross the lad's face. He spoke softly. "Come away, lad, or we'll all be joining your pal here soon enough."

  Danny helped Stefan get the packs in the canoe, Elsa leapt in to claim the prow position and they pushed the laden vessel back down the beach to the water's edge, its bottom rasping and grating against the rocky foreshore.

  When Danny looked back, Ed was still standing over George's body, tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn't even have his weapon in hand. Past the lad, Danny saw that more than a dozen baboons had massed in two ranks at the foliage's edge. They shrieked and chattered and he knew it was only a matter of time before they egged each other into an attack; a gang was a gang, no matter what the species.

  Danny took out his pistol, took aim, and dropped the largest one, hoping to repeat the scattering flight of the last time. This time the beasts held their ground, roaring as one and thrashing at the ground with their paws.

  "Ed, it's now or never," Danny shouted and with a push launched the canoe completely into the water. The baboons roared and broke into a charge.

  Ed fled in the face of their teeth and talons and almost threw himself into the canoe. Stefan paddled but Danny took several seconds before joining him, downing three more of the charging beasts before
holstering his pistol and taking up a paddle. When he looked back it was to see the baboons gathered in a frenzied mass over their dead, blood flying in a fine spray in the air as they tore at flesh and limbs. Young George was in there somewhere too, but thankfully the press of bodies of the baboons obscured his final fate.

  When he turned back away from the gory feast it was to see that the canoe was pointing back out to the deeper water.

  "Turn in," Danny called out. "We'll stay ten yards from shore, no more, no less. Too shallow for the serpent, too deep for the baboons."

  "And I'll say it again. What if they can swim?" Stefan asked as the canoe turned to travel parallel to the shore.

  Danny laughed.

  "That's the least of our worries. If they get in the water, they'll be slow, we can pick them off one at a time. And who knows, maybe yon serpent will do the job for us; I'll take all the help we can get."

  They paddled parallel to the shore for almost an hour, again using the darker patch on the roof above as their line of sight. Ed sat at the rear and didn't speak, didn't even take a smoke when Danny offered. Danny eyed the shore warily all the way. For a while he thought the island might be uniformly covered with the dense vegetation, which in turn appeared to be also uniformly inhabited by more of the baboons, but after a time the foliage was broken up by rocky outcrops and cliffs, and soon after that the land rose higher, became stonier. It looked even less hospitable than the forest, despite the lack of baboons.

  "We might have to go back the way we came and take our chances with yon serpent-thing," Danny said after a time when they'd seen little but bare rock. "There's nowt for us here."

  Elsa barked as if in agreement, but when Danny looked forward, he saw she had her gaze focussed on a promontory several hundred yards ahead. It was almost an island, joined to the shore by a low rocky beach, but the thing that had Danny struck almost dumb was the fact that it was not just bare rock; it was, or had been, a fortified dwelling, a high circle of thick stone walls rising high above the water, open to the sky on the roofline, like a truncated cone.