Behemoth

by Michael Cole

  “Damn it!” she cursed. She looked ahead and immediately saw red-blue flashing lights on a white vessel heading her way. It was closing the distance fast, so she turned off the motor and immediately threw her hands in the air, flagging the police cruiser.

  ********

  “There!” Deputy Burg pointed to the small yellow raft just thirty meters ahead of them. Jones slowed his vessel to a stop, bringing it alongside the raft. Burg held a rope in his hand and tossed it over the port side out to the women on the raft. Jones quickly stood along-side him.

  “Are any of you hurt?” He called down to them.

  “We’re okay, but we need to go now! It’s coming back!” Rebecca responded, grabbing the rope. Jones and Burg both looked to each other in confusion as they pulled the raft up around the stern of the cruiser, where they could climb aboard. Jesse, hearing Rebecca’s words, began to panic once again, after just beginning to enhance her calm.

  “Oh no!” She sobbed. “It’s coming back! It’s gonna kill us!”

  “Wait!” Jones said. “What the hell happened out there? What’s coming? Were you on the fishing boat that sank?”

  “There’s something in the water, and it’s coming this way!” The approach of a large vessel grabbed Jones’ attention. Looking out past the stern, he could see the Catcher approaching. Excellent! He thought. Napier, you’re timing couldn’t be better. He grabbed his radio.

  “Forty-nine-eight to Catcher. Can you hear me, Rick?”

  “Loud and clear,” Napier’s voice answered through the radio.

  “Listen, I’ve got two women here in a raft that need to get picked up. Could you give them a lift please? Something weird’s going on over here.” The line that Burg was holding suddenly went weightless. Both Deputies looked to the water and saw that Rebecca had started the motor and sped the raft away.

  “What the hell,” Burg said.

  “Forty-nine-eight to Catcher,” Jones continued. “Looks like they’re heading in your direction. Let us know when you pick them up--” Both deputies suddenly fell to the deck as the vessel’s bow literally exploded as if struck by a freight train. Bits of vessel blasted out in nearly every possible direction, and the engine briefly erupted into flames before the ocean water rushed into the gaping hole where the bow used to be. Jones felt his teeth puncture the roof of his tongue at he fell forward to the deck, cracking his chin on the wood floor.

  “Sweet love of--” Burg cursed as he sat up from the deck, holding a hand over a bleeding gash on his forehead which resulted from him hitting the starboard edge.

  “Get on your feet!” Jones shouted as pushed himself up to his feet and rushed to the radio.

  “What in the hell was that?!” Burg yelled. Jones ignored him as he was focused on getting someone to help their situation. As he grabbed the radio, Burg looked out to the bow, or at least where the bow used to be. All that remained was a massive hole, outlined by splintering bits of vessel, fogged by steam.

  “Forty-nine-eight to command! Our cruiser is sinking fast. We’ve been hit by something large and unknown.” He paused for a minute, and realized the radio was dead, possibly due to short-circuit from the impact. “Fuck!” He yelled as he threw it to the deck.

  “Holy shit! What in the hell is that?!” Burg yelled as he pointed to the water. Jones directed his attention, and his hand instinctively went for his holstered Glock 40 caliber as soon as his eyes captured the sight of the enormous entity thrashing about in the water in front of the vessel. The hairs on his neck stood on end and his heart rate greatly increased. He wasn’t sure whether he was in shock or disbelief as he watched the rigid, goblin-like shape emerge at the vessel’s former-bow. On all sides of the creature, the water thrashed as the tentacles squirmed around it, as if they had minds of their own.

  “I’m not waiting for this thing to kill us!” Burg panicked and aimed his Glock at the monstrous creature, firing all ten rounds in under five seconds. Each full-medal-jacket bullet was crushed against the thick exoskeleton. The creature’s eight enormous tentacles thrashed more rapidly in irregular formations. Within seconds, they lashed viciously into the air like the heads of a hydra as they began assaulting what remained of the sinking vessel.

  ********

  “What in the hell is going on?” Napier said, after witnessing the front of the police cruiser burst into pieces. He got on the radio to Police Headquarters. “Chief Bondy, this is Rick Napier from the Catcher. It looks like Forty-nine-eight just suffered some damage, although I’m too far away to see what caused it. I’m about to pick up the two women on the life raft, as a matter of fact I’m ten-twenty-three on that issue.” He slowed the Catcher and aligned it to allow the women to come up the stern ladder. Thompson was already on the lower deck with a line in hand, ready to toss it to the raft. She could hear the whimpers coming from the women on the inflatable.

  Rebecca turned off the motor to prevent going past the Catcher, allowing the raft to drift with considerable momentum. With her hands, she paddled the water to steer towards the vessel’s stern. She saw Thompson standing at the edge, holding a rope line in hand. Rebecca held out her hands, and the Lieutenant tossed it with all of her might. Her aim was spot on. The line landed precisely in Rebecca’s grasp. She held on tight as Thompson began pulling the raft in.

  Lisa Thompson grunted with each tug on the line. The raft was still several yards out, and bringing it in proved tedious. The sounds of footsteps signaled to her that Napier was on his way down, and within a few seconds, he was there at the stern to take the line from her.

  “Get ready to pull them aboard,” he said as he tugged on the line. His arms flexed with each motion, bringing out the display in his muscles. After a tense minute, the raft was against the edge of the stern. Thompson looked down the ladder, but quickly moved out of the way as the younger girl sprang up onto the deck like a person possessed.

  “Oh God! Oh God! It’s gonna kill us!”

  “Wait. Wait, please calm down,” Thompson said. “Tell us what happened.”

  “It’s killed a bunch of people. It’s trying to kill us!”

  “Slow down,” Napier said as he pulled up the line. “What’s killing people?”

  “I don’t know what it is!” she screamed. Thompson placed a blanket over Jesse’s shoulders.

  “Relax, relax,” she said. Rebecca then made her way onto the deck, still dripping wet.

  “Can we please get out of here?!” she quickly said.

  “You’re welcome,” Napier said with an ice cold glare. Rebecca paused for a minute, realizing that her saviors were not quite aware of the…nightmare.

  “I’m sorry; I’m not trying to be difficult. But there’s something enormous in the water! It just sank my boat, as well as this girl’s vessel.”

  “What the hell is it?!” Napier nearly yelled. His temper was beginning to send the girl into another panic spasm.

  “I don’t know! I haven’t seen anything like it!” Rebecca said.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Napier felt like he was in the Twilight Zone. His nerves were flaming, as a result of a combination of confusion, frustration, and a slight sense of fear. “You mean some animal or something sank both your boats? What did it look like? A shark?”

  “I just said, I don’t know!” Rebecca almost yelled. Jesse hyperventilated, rocking back and forth with severe anxiety. With tears spewing from her eyes, she stood to her feet and screamed.

  “It has tentacles like a squid! But it has a shell like a crab! A CRABSQUID! A behemoth nightmare!” There was a long, silent pause, save for the sobs of the panicking girl. Napier and Thompson looked to each other, finding nothing in the other’s eyes except a greater sense of confusion… and a growing, tingling fear. Napier quickly rushed to climb into the cabin, while Thompson stayed on deck with Rebecca and Jesse. In moments, the Catcher pressed forward, intent on catching up with Jones.

  ********

  Jones threw his arms over his face and ducked dow
n as the flailing tentacles assaulted the crumbling police cruiser. Bits of wood, plastic, and metal were tossed in every possible direction like sparks in a welding factory. The deck beneath the deputies’ feet began to splinter and the edges of the vessel cracked. The bow, or what little remained of the bow, sank underneath the thrashing surface of the water, allowing water to leak into the cabin, which weighed the vessel down further. Deputy Burg crouched as he fought against gravity and the slippery slope, while struggling to get a fresh magazine into his Glock. The tentacles did not grab ahold of anything. Instead, they slapped the boat repeatedly, causing the breaking of boards, railing, and pipes. They assaulted relentlessly from the sides, as well as the top.

  Burg cursed as he finally slapped the loaded magazine into the handle of the Glock, and yanked back on the already locked slide to chamber the first round. Balancing carefully on his feet, despite the overwhelming terror and mindless destruction of his police vessel, he stood up from his crouching position. With both hands clutching the handle, he extended the weapon toward the demonic enemy, and squeezed the trigger. Despite the chaos surrounding him, he could almost hear the 40. Caliber rounds stopping cold against the beast’s solid exterior.

  Down on the wood deck, unable to maintain his balance, Jones looked up to see his partner attempt to fight back. He was a few feet behind Burg, and he could easily tell that the bullets were having no effect on the thing. Suddenly his eyes went to the right as another tentacle rose from the water. Unlike the creature’s main body, the tentacle was clearly flexible, slimy, several feet thick, and well over a hundred feet long. It drew back, like a baseball bat, and suddenly sliced through the air towards its target. Jones’ realized something critical in that moment: the tentacle’s aim was not simply towards the side of the crumbling boat.

  “Burg! Look out!” Jones’ urgent warning came too late to make a difference. Burg didn’t feel a thing as the swinging tentacle swiped just above his shoulders, taking his head clean off his neck like a golf ball from its tee. Burg’s headless body quivered for a moment before collapsing to the deck, with blood gushing from the stump. At that moment, what focus and sanity Deputy Jones had managed to maintain had disappeared. Screaming like a madman, he stood up, ankle deep in water, and he drew his sidearm. He immediately fired mindlessly at the beast while his boat crumbled apart and sank beneath him. Within seconds, his gun was empty, with the slide locked back after expelling the final round. In a state of panic, he continued pulling the trigger repeatedly, seemingly unaware of the empty clip. Also unbeknownst to him was the tentacle that had slithered its way towards him. Jones finally managed to eject the empty clip and had grabbed a hold of a fresh one. Suddenly, within a single moment, he felt intense pressure around his ribcage, and the jerking motion of his body being lifted into the air like a kite. The gun and magazine were flung from his hands, leaving him to flail his arms helplessly in the air.

  “NO!” he yelled with what air remained in his lungs. He begged to the Savior that he was only in some horrible dream, from which he’d wake up; that what was happening couldn’t possibly be real. Those hopes were quickly crushed, along with his ribs and spine as the tentacle squeezed mercilessly. The pressure also caused blood to burst from several vessels in his body, leaving them with nowhere to go except out his ears, nose, and mouth.

  ********

  Napier had been throttling the Catcher toward Deputy Jones’ vessel, after failing to get a response from him over the radio. In the cabin with him was Thompson, who had been previously busy trying to calm down their new passengers. The radio was filled with police chatter, particularly from Chief Bondy as he barked instructions to his other police units, as well as get in contact with Deputies Jones and Burg. It didn’t take the Catcher long to reach the location of the police vessel, or what was left of it. However, there was something else where it was. Something huge. Alive.

  “What in the name of--” Napier couldn’t manage to finish his exclamation. His eyes widened, and Thompson was equally as shocked. The tentacles thrashed around the bulging, sixty-foot long rigid mass, like natives worshiping a deity.

  “Oh my God,” Thompson whispered. It was as if she had re-encountered a demon from her worst nightmares. Napier understood the tone in her voice. It wasn’t just shock, it was recollection.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” he exclaimed as his voice instinctively elevated to a shout. “What the hell is that thing?!” Before Thompson could respond, one of the tentacles grabbed their attention further. Rather, what was gripped within the tentacle. The blue uniform trousers were unmistakable. “Oh shit! Jones!”

  “Rick, turn the boat around and let’s get out of here!” Thompson shouted, just as she would bark orders to personnel in the Coast Guard. Napier felt the urge to argue for Jones’ life, but he forced himself to think rationally. There was no chance for saving the deputy, assuming he was even still alive in the grasp of the monster. Still, Thompson had no patience. “NOW!” The engine roared as Napier steered the vessel portside, turning it to the island. He pushed the Catcher to its maximum speed and quickly grabbed the radio.

  “Catcher to Chief, please acknowledge,” he spoke into the device.

  “This is Chief Bondy. Napier, is that you?” Bondy’s voice came over the receptor.

  “That’s affirmative.”

  “What is it? I‘m unbelievably busy right now.”

  “Chief! You need to make an emergency announcement. Tell everyone to get out of the water right now! I repeat: Tell everyone to come back to the island. Swimmers; boaters; deputies; EVERYONE!”

  “Rick, what the hell are you talking-”

  “Damn it, Chief! Jones and Burg are dead! There’s something huge in the water out there, and it’s killed over a half-dozen people just now!” For a few moments, there was silence over the radio traffic. Napier and Thompson both knew that the Chief was trying to wrap his mind around what he was just told.

  “Rick, you’ve better report to me ASAP! And you’ve better not be screwing around with me! I’m making the emergency announcement! And when you get here, you’d better explain this to me in greater detail! Over and OUT!” This was one of the extremely rare times Bondy would actually treat Napier like one of his deputies, rather than a friend. And Napier wasn’t complaining. Getting out of the water was the first thing on his mind.

  ********

  It welcomed the replenishment of energy resulting from consuming its most recent meal. However, its sensory nerves flared once more upon picking up signals from another mass in the water, quickly moving away from it. It was no longer about hunger, but about territory. It released the grip from its massive pincers from the inedible creature which it had just defeated, allowing it to break into more pieces. It filled its numerous sacks with seawater and propelled itself after its new enemy, thirsty to kill more and more.

  ********

  On Palm Beach, Chief Bondy fumbled through his giant supply bag for his microphone to call in the swimmers. He had been so focused on organizing his patrol unit’s the entire day; he hadn’t properly organized his materials. As he dug through the bag, his mind pondered over what to tell his men. Rick Napier was definitely not someone who would over exaggerate, leading Bondy to understand that whatever he was talking about over the radio was true. But the chief was still confused. Perhaps it was learning the knowledge that two of his deputies were dead, and he would have to explain this reality to their families. But what was that reality other than simply death? He forced his mind to push that issue to the side after he located his large red microphone. Before doing anything with it, he quickly grabbed his police radio to communicate with his other deputies.

  “Attention all units, this is Chief Bondy. We appear to have a major emergency in progress right now. I need all boating units to sweep the island perimeter and make sure every fishing vessel comes back to port! When finished with your side of the island, immediately make your way to East Port, where you’ll receive further instructions from m
e.” The police units acknowledged their instructions over the radio, which Bondy didn’t pay too much attention to, as he picked up his microphone and quickly made his way from his post to the sandy beach. Briefly before making his announcement, he scanned the water to see how many swimmers were in the water. There were too many to count, with some swimming over a hundred yards out. In addition, the area stretched for nearly a quarter of a mile. And Bondy was alone to see that everyone got out safe. Just my damn luck!

  “Attention!” He called out through the microphone, which carried his voice out into the distance. “Attention please. I need everyone to…calmly, and carefully,” he put strong emphasis on those two words, “come in from the water immediately. Do not panic. Please be calm and careful. But I need everyone to please come in from the water.” His announcement earned him stunned looks and glares from every direction. It was as if the ‘deer-in-the-headlights’ response had gone viral. Bondy had initially feared that the large mass of people would come swarming out of the ocean, crawling over one another, creating a panic all by themselves, as well as several injuries and further confusion. What happened was the opposite. Hardly anyone moved. Some people in the distance even continued swimming; they probably couldn’t hear the message. Without holding the microphone to his lips, he simply flung both arms into the air and called out.