Behemoth

by Michael Cole

  “This is Chief of Police Geoff Bondy,” a voice answered from the radio. “I’m sending a unit right away. Are there any injuries?”

  “Unknown,” Tom answered. “I’ll keep you updated.”

  Meanwhile, Rebecca steered her yacht closer to the site of the incident. The vessel had disappeared beneath the surface, leaving behind a trail of debris. The smoke had begun to clear, making it easier for her to examine the scene. The area of water was dark, due to the pollution from the accident.

  “Oh God!” She held her hand to her mouth. There was no sign of life. Her companion held a rope in a loop, as if he was going to lasso any survivors like a cowboy.

  “I don’t see anyone,” he said.

  ********

  It had just finished slaughtering the life form that had led it on a rigorous chase. It remained submerged, watching the inedible carcass sink beneath the waves, never to be seen again. It was about to move along, when another strange organism approached along the surface. It was of the same species of that which it had just killed. The creature responded to its instincts, which demanded to kill this one as well. It tilted itself upward and held both of its monstrous pincers toward the sky. It filled its sacks once again, their individual loads adding up to nearly a ton of seawater. Simultaneously, they released the pressure. The creature launched upward like a bottle rocket, directly underneath the enemy organism.

  ********

  “Is there anyone out there?!” Rebecca called out. She looked out over the side along with her friend Doug. Her heart was pounding and sweat was beading down her forehead. Aside from the dark water, receding smoke, and the large amount of floating pieces wood, there was no sign of life.

  “I don’t see anything,” Doug said. He began to make his way to the radio. “We need to get in touch with the Coast G--” He bit his tongue nearly in two as his body, along with the rest of the Comanche was rammed upward by a tremendous unknown force from below. After being airborne for a brief moment of time, both he and Rebecca crashed down on the deck. The rear of the vessel had mysteriously lifted from the water, and the disaster only got worse from there. Rebecca, who clutched the railing at the port side aft, watched as the middle of the Comanche splintered and cracked upward vehemently. Her throat went numb, preventing her from screaming as she witnessed several large narrow, pointed objects erupt from within her boat, crumbling the entire front half into an unrecognizable form. Metal, wood, and plastic sprinkled into the water, and smoke began to hiss from the fracturing engine. As the strange objects broke through the vessel, they took greater form. At first Rebecca would have described them as spears, but after rising from the innards of her boat, she realized they actually had more of a scissor shape, as if they belonged to a gigantic crustacean. No longer supported by the huge pincers, the elevated rear half of the vessel crashed into the water and immediately begun sinking.

  Rebecca quickly began flailing in the water to kick away from the disaster as quickly as possible, followed by Doug. A terrible scream from the muscular man forced her to look back, which she immediately regretted. One of the huge pincers had sunk underneath the surface after decapitating the vessel. As they fled, that same pincer rose from the sea once again, this time under Doug. He had been skewered through the abdomen by one of the pointed figures and lifted out of the ocean. As he was pushed ten feet out of the water, his arms still reaching down toward Rebecca, as if he hoped she could pull him away. With a deathful grunt, his mouth vomited a pint of blood, and his body was dragged into the water by the enormous appendage.

  The intensity, shock, and terror had been too much for Rebecca’s fracturing mind to handle. After screaming in reaction to what she had just witnessed, her eyes closed and her tense body loosened as she fainted to a quiet peacefulness, floating amongst the debris.

  ********

  It fed once again, clamping its beak and mandibles on the small fleshy prey. Around it were pieces of the large inedible creature that it slaughtered, sinking into the depths below. It took no notice, as its attention was currently on another small organism. While it resembled the other ones, this particular organism didn’t move. It simply floated at the surface, amongst the pieces of wreckage. Perhaps it was already dead? The creature’s sensory receptors were picking up trace signals, likely being heartbeats. Dead or not, it was an edible object, and the creature prepared to reach out with a tentacle to consume it. However, its attention was grabbed by the presence of yet another floating organism, which approached at great speed. The shelled creature took this approach as a sign of aggression, and even though it knew it could not consume the strange life form’s ‘flesh’, it would not back down from any challenge. In addition, the creature’s had learned that these floating challengers carried the smaller, edible life forms, and there was further reward in slaughtering more of them.

  ********

  Deputy Jones stood in the cabin, holding a hand-held radio to his ear as Chief Bondy laid out instructions to him. There had been a report of a fishing vessel sinking a little over a mile north of his position.

  “Get over there ASAP and get a report of what happened,” Bondy’s voice instructed over the radio. “Don’t worry about the boat itself, because by the sound of it, it can’t be saved. I’ll notify the Coast Guard.” Jones looked over to the reserve deputy with him, twenty-eight year old Deputy Ted Burg, who stood a short five-foot-six, with a buzzed cut head. He was inexperienced and was more than eager to investigate this particular incident. He stood at the stern while Jones hit a switch near the wheel, turning on the red and blue emergency lights, and also ignited the vessel’s siren.

  “Ten-four,” he answered the chief. “Forty-nine-eight is on route.” He hooked the radio to his belt and throttled the vessel forward.

  A quarter mile behind them was the Catcher, which was anchored facing the east in the same position it was when it encountered Jones’ vessel. Napier and Thompson stood side by side on the upper deck, reflecting on their past lives. Napier had listened intently as Thompson spoke of her brief marriage which took place in Maine. She admitted it had happened too fast and were the acts of a young woman who thought she found the right one. In her book, that was the second time she thought she’d found the right guy, who in turn, fooled around with other women. This made Rick feel a bit guilty, as he was the first guy to do that to her. He talked a little bit about Jane, and the difficulties of life after his wife died. He refrained to speak too much about the marriage itself, due to the awkward fact that it spawned from an affair during his high school relationship with Thompson. Still, it made him happy to be able to open up to someone, and she felt the same way.

  However, it quickly came to a stop when Napier overheard police traffic on the radio, which he left on Bondy’s channel. He overheard the conversation regarding a sinking ship, and tried to resist the urge to pull up the anchor and help the deputies. Lisa could see his eyes on the cabin radio.

  “Hey,” she said. “You shouldn’t have to worry about it. The police here have jobs to do, and I’m sure they’re capable of doing it.” Napier smiled.

  “I suppose you’re right,” he said. A subtle breeze kicked through the air, picking up a few strands of Thompson’s hair. Napier’s mind went from debating whether to assist the police situation to her beauty. Unbeknownst to him, Lisa’s mind was consumed with thoughts of how charming, and surprisingly mature, Napier had become. He was a different person than before. Age and experience will do that to someone, she thought. They shared a quiet moment, both feeling the intense urge to plant a kiss on the other’s lips. Looking into each other’s eyes, without blinking, they slowly felt themselves lose control, and simultaneously leaned towards one another--

  --Just as the radio buzzed again.

  “Police Central Command, this is the… same person who contacted you before. I’m at the scene, and now… something just sunk a second boat. I mean… It just tore it to shreds in like a few seconds. Please send help, there’s a woman in the water, a
nd she appears to be unconscious! I think there’s something in the water.”

  “This is the Chief of Police. I’m sending in all of my units. Someone will be there momentarily. Please remain calm. Do you know what happened to the second vessel?”

  “I think there’s something in the water! I don’t know what, but I think there’s something big swimming around over here. I’m near the woman, and I can try to get her on board.”

  “…Okay, you may proceed. All units, please report to that location. Forty-nine-eight? Are you on scene yet?”

  “Negative. But we’re nearing. Stand by, please.”

  Napier and Thompson looked into one another’s eyes once again. This time, it wasn’t a feeling of calm and kindliness. They were both feeling alert, and now Thompson’s instincts as a Coast Guard diver kicked in.

  “Let’s go,” she said. Napier didn’t argue as he quickly rushed into the cabin and clicked a switch to bring up the anchor. After that task was complete, he throttled the Catcher, turning it to a northerly direction, following the sirens from Deputy Jones’ vessel.

  ********

  Tom steered the Babe Magnet as close to Rebecca as he possibly could. Chunks of the Comanche bounced off of the hull as he entered the scene of the disaster. It was like a graveyard at sea. Next to Tom stood a hysterical Jesse, who shivered from the sight of Doug being impaled by what appeared to be an enormous claw. She had pleaded with Tom to simply steer the boat away and head for shore. But he couldn’t live with himself if he left the area knowing a living person was still in the water. He argued with himself mentally. He saw the same thing Jesse did. However, he debated if it was what they thought it was. We were several yards away, so we didn’t have the best perception. Perhaps it was a large stake of wood or a pole from the boat. It was breaking apart, into several bizarrely shaped pieces. Perhaps an air bubble or something forced a broken piece of the vessel toward the surface, where Doug happened to be. He knew his mind’s rationalization for what possibly happened didn’t make much sense. Whatever killed Rebecca’s friend appeared very much alive, and there was no other explanation as to what wrecked her vessel so fiercely and so fast. It was almost as if it had hit a mine. He forced himself to quit thinking about it for a moment so he could concentrate on rescuing the helpless Rebecca. Pulling the Babe Magnet a yard-and-a-half away from her on the starboard side, he looked back to Dillard.

  “Ray!” he called out. “Hurry and grab her!” Ray bit his lip. Never in his life did he expect this day to get so strange. Even in this moment of calamity, his selfish behavior begged to take over. He hated the fact that he was reaching out to save his ex-wife. He remembered all the nagging, or at least what he perceived to be nagging; the arguments that he blamed her for, despite the fact that he started most of them; and finally, the lack of sex, again his fault-- affairs don’t usually put wives in the mood. He ducked under the railing and held his arm out for Rebecca. However, he didn’t reach out to his fullest extent. His selfish behavior had succeeded. He knew if he hung out further over the side and stretched his reach to its maximum while holding the railing, he’d be able to grab her wrist and pull her up. Instead, he decided to make it appear as if he was doing all he could. He decided he’d rather leave her in the water. Dillard was never a saint. He was barely decent. But this was the worst from him.

  “I can’t reach!” he lied. “Let's just get out of here. You guys said there was something in the water, so let's leave before it gets us!” He didn’t see the creature that Jesse claimed destroyed the Comanche. Except for what he said on the radio to the police, Tom didn’t confirm or deny that there was something beneath the surface. Dillard simply thought they were both crazy, but he figured he could at least use that to his advantage.

  “Try harder, Ray!” Tom ordered. He saw his friend wasn’t trying hard enough, but chose not to believe what he suspected that meant. Jesse rushed to the railing where Dillard kneeled.

  “Come on, Ray! Just grab her please!” she pleaded. She could also tell he wasn’t trying very hard. Dillard bit his lip. He was being bossed around on his own boat, and he was resenting every second of it.

  “You try it!” he yelled and stepped away. Jesse’s jaw dropped open in distress to his egotism. She knew there wasn’t much time to waste, so she hung over the railing and reached out as far as she could. Rebecca floated face up, still unconscious and just out of her reach. Jesse was a smaller person than Dillard, and didn’t quite have the range that he did. Her heart pounded and she began to tear up.

  “Damn it, Ray. Please grab her! You have a better reach than I do!” She pleaded. Dillard looked at her, and then looked to Tom, who was about to step out of the cabin. And the look on Tom’s face implied that he was going to kick his ass. Dillard exhaled an exaggerated sigh and he reached out over the deck. He quickly snatched Rebecca’s wrist, and with a mighty tug he lifted her over the railing onto the deck. Tom and Jesse pulled her to the middle and checked her vitals. She was alive. Dillard leaned back on the starboard side and crossed his arms.

  “Good. You can tell her that her ex-husband saved her ass,” he said. “Now get us out of here.” Both Tom and Jesse looked up at him.

  “Listen you jackass! I know what you were trying to do--” Tom’s voice went silent as he and Jesse witnessed a purplish-red, worm-like tentacle wiggle out of the ocean, right behind Dillard. He could hear the splashing behind him, and could smell the awful odor coming off the slimy leathery flesh. He didn’t have enough time to turn around to see what was behind him; the tentacle had found its target and had coiled around his torso, pinning his arms to his sides, and immediately began to constrict him. His eyes literally bulged, as did his tongue from his mouth as the pressure snapped his arms like toothpicks and crushed his ribcage. He couldn’t gather any breath to scream. Instead, blood simply oozed from his mouth, nose, and ears. As quickly as it appeared, the tentacle returned to the surface with a yank, taking Dillard to the depths. Jesse threw her arms across her eyes and screamed for her life and Tom jumped to his feet and dashed for the wheel. He quickly thrust the throttle to its highest speed. The propellers kicked up buckets of water as they twisted like circular saws. The Babe Magnet began pushing forward, but following a loud popping sound from under the boat, it suddenly ceased to accelerate. Tom looked back and saw that the propellers were kicking up water. Why aren’t we moving?

  The answer to that question lied in the hull, where the creature had impaled the exterior of the underbelly with its pincers, clamping down on the innards of the vessel. The engine began to emit smoke, and soon enough, the propellers shut down. Several of its tentacles lifted from the surface and began slapping at the boat. Jesse shrieked at each loud clapping noise, and shivered when she saw the boneless invertebrate-like appendages slither onto the deck, as if they were searching for her. On their bottom side was a layer of suction cups, which pressed against the deck. Jesse could see the tip of the barbs that were hidden within the middle of each of these cups, scraping against the deck floor. She held on to Rebecca and scooted back against the cabin, away from the slithery killers that were just feet away from them. Her eyes then went to the port side, and her eyes beheld further terror. The massive body of… ‘whatever it was’ began to emerge. Water rolled off its huge spiny shell like numerous raging rivers. Its eyes, resembling balloons, appeared to float over its mandibles as they stared at the helpless vessel. Its bony shell creaked like door hinges as the creature rose a massive arm from the water, snapping its pincer in the air.

  Jesse whimpered as she began scooting toward the other end of the deck to get away from the creature. Just as she reached the starboard side edge, she felt Rebecca stirring in her lap. The redhead wiped her eyes, momentarily oblivious to her situation, before seeing the tentacles thrashing about in the water as if in a feeding frenzy. Her body was still a bit jittery, but she gathered enough strength to sit up from Jesse’s wrapped arms.

  In the cabin, Tom had continued attempting to throttle the
vessel back to the island, but to no avail. Smoke billowed from the engine, and finally, the vessel died. Cursing every word in the book, he reached into a large cabinet under the radio and pulled out a large inflatable raft. The yellow rubber was wrapped around a rigid object. Tom stepped out of the cabin and yanked a red cord, which automatically unfolded and inflated the lifeboat. As it unfolded, the rigid object became visible. A motor! The vast majority of inflatable rafts did not include a motor, but this one was way different; it was custom made. Leave it to Ray Dillard to throw a couple thousand dollars away on a special motorized raft he likely would never use. Rebecca jumped to her feet. She grabbed the frantic Jesse by the arms and lifted her to a stand.

  “That thing won’t last ten seconds!” Jesse sobbed.

  “We have no choice!” Tom nearly yelled. “The boat’s sinking and the engine’s dead!” Just as he finished speaking, the Babe Magnet quaked as the creature rammed its pincer into the side of the vessel with a hard thrusting motion. Wood exploded upward like magma from an erupting volcano. The two women didn’t argue with Tom. They dropped the inflated raft over the side. Jesse jumped in after it, followed immediately by Rebecca. After splashing into the water, they both climbed aboard. As they secured themselves in the rubbery haven, they looked up at Tom, who was about to jump in after them. He jumped as if he was competing in the Olympics, over the edge of the vessel aiming just left of the raft. He was in mid air, looking down at the water, and quickly realized the tightening around his waist, and the fact that he appeared to be floating above the ocean. The barbs had just begun piercing his abdomen as he realized one of the creature’s rubbery tentacles had gotten a hold of him, holding him in mid-air. His eyes bulged from their sockets and the tentacle pulled him into the water, underneath the sinking vessel, into the jaws of the monster. Jesse put her hands over her eyes and screamed non-stop. As she panicked and rendered herself helpless, Rebecca forced herself to focus. With a yank of the cord, the motor kicked to life and immediately pushed the little raft forward. Rebecca monitored the creature’s position. It was still with the sinking Babe Magnet, which was now crushed into a V-shape, with the stern and bow pointing upward and the middle section bent into an arrowhead-shape. It wasn’t long before it too was swallowed by the ocean, leaving behind a floating trace of rubble in the midst of thrashing tentacles. Twenty feet, thirty feet, forty feet, fifty feet. Just as Rebecca was ready to feel secure, she noticed the center mass of the creature turn in their direction. She knew it could sense their presence, and that gut feeling was confirmed when she watched it kick up water in pursuit.