“Did your power go out?”
“All night,” I said, slumping into the couch beside him.
Chet handed me a beer. He was already drinking his.
“Isn’t it a little early to drink?” I said, cracking it open.
“Apparently not!” he said laughing.
I smiled and took a long gulp. “Definitely not,” I said.
“You want me to go get my tools?” he said. “I can fix up the door for you.”
“That’s not necessary.” I let the cool, fizzy beer seep through my body, soothing me.
“I’m not comfortable leaving your door like that, Kate. Not with escaped convicts running around. I’ll feel better if you let me fix it.”
“Suit yourself,” I said, shrugging. I knew it would be pointless to argue with him. I couldn’t think of a good reason for him not to fix it. And even if I had had one he would have ignored it.
“Alright. Let me finish this, then I’ll scoot back home and grab some stuff. I think I have some wood in the garage. It won’t match, but you can always repaint it. I’ll have to go to the hardware store for a new knob. I shouldn’t be gone for more than a couple of hours.”
“I might be out on the lagoon,” I said, taking another sip of my beer.
“Swimming?”
“Snorkeling.”
“You’re still doing that, huh?”
“Mhm.”
Chet shook his head. “You’re one weird girl.”
“So you keep telling me.”
We both smiled.
Chet finished his beer and got up. “Right, well, I’m off. I’ll be back in a bit. Maybe when I’ve got you fixed up you can spare five minutes from your summer project and have another beer with me.”
“Sounds good,” I said, getting up.
Chet walked toward the door.
“Chet?” I said.
He stopped and turned to look at me.
“Thanks for checking up on me.”
Chet shrugged. “That’s what friends are for.”
He disappeared out the door and thumped across the porch and down the steps. For a minute I just stood there, staring after him.
If things had turned out differently, if Chet and I had gotten together, would that life have been better than the life I had now? It would have been safer, more comfortable for sure. Yesterday afternoon I would have said yes for sure. But last night some secret chamber in my heart had rung with the clarion call of adventure.
Things were about to become a whole lot more interesting.
Chapter Fifteen
I rowed out to the dock. I was wearing my neon pink two-piece. I hadn’t brought my diving suit because I didn’t think I’d need it. Now I wish that I had. Not that I thought it would give me much protection.
The butt of the speargun sat in the bottom of the boat, the top resting on the seat beside me. It was already loaded. Three additional spears were wrapped in a bundle beside it. I’d left the rifle in the cabin. I couldn’t use it underwater, and if something happened to the boat I didn’t want to lose it at the bottom of the lagoon. My diving tank was on the other side of me, along with my scuba diving mask and flippers. The mask was a top-of-the-line Liquid Image with a built-in video camera. It was the last present that Henry had ever given me, and I’d never even had a chance to use it. A bag at the front of the boat held my underwater flashlight, first aid kit, suntan lotion, logbook, pens, and phone. Beside that was a cooler with sandwiches and drinks.
My diving watch with built-in compass was strapped to my wrist. It was 10:38 AM. My diving knife was strapped to my thigh. I hoped I wouldn’t have to use it, but better safe than sorry.
I got to the dock and swung the boat around, bumping a drum with my paddle. I bent over and tied the boat to the hook on the dock. I thought about putting my stuff on the deck, then decided that if I needed to make a quick getaway it would be better to have everything on the boat. I took out my logbook and pens and spread them out on the deck. Then I laid down in front of them, enjoying the warmth of the sun. The first page in the binder was a clear plastic sleeve containing my hand-drawn map of the lagoon. I’d already marked out a number of locations of interest. I could have done all my work on my laptop, which would have saved me the trouble of copying my notes later, but I didn’t want to risk dumping my laptop in the lagoon. I preferred recording everything by hand for this kind of thing anyway. It was just easier.
A soft plopping sound caught my attention and my heart skipped a beat. I looked over at the water. It was only a fish snatching a water skipper from the surface.
Had it really only been the day before yesterday that I’d seen the shadow under the dock? Had it been the Fish-Man then, too? Or had it been something else? Was there more than one creature lurking in my lagoon?
My isolation and vulnerability were suddenly very clear to me. I felt a chill in spite of the heat, and my hands started shaking. But I refused to be a slave to my fears. There was too much at stake.
Don’t let Henry win. Don’t let him say ‘I told you so.’ Even if it’s only inside your own head.
I surveyed the west bank, studying the exposed limestone cliff face and overhanging vegetation. Somewhere below was the source of the spring, and if my hunch was a correct, a somewhat substantial network of underwater caves.
I slipped on my flippers and strapped on my diving tank, pulling the straps tight. My heart was hammering in my chest. I tugged on the goggles, adjusting them on my face, then put in the mouthpiece. I took a deep breath, then I started the camera, picked up my speargun, and jumped into the lagoon.
The warm water embraced me, streams of bubbles rolling up my body as I sank. I swam a little lower and then gave the water a moment to settle and looked around. I was surprised by how clear the water was. I could see all the way to the escarpment, and patches of sunlight rippled along the long, undulating streamers of seaweed that reached up from the sandy bed below. Minnows darted here and there between them and far below a crab slowly crawled across a bare patch of gravel. I realized I was holding my breath; some part of me had expected to come face to face with the Fish-Man, but I saw nothing larger than the crab anywhere.
I kicked my feet, propelling myself forward. I’d almost forgotten how much I enjoyed snorkeling; I felt at home under the water in a way that I’d never felt on land. The aquatic world was magical, breathtaking, mysterious. And surprisingly peaceful. It was like being inside some vast, boundless museum.
I made my way over the tops of the seaweed — somewhat nervous about what might lie hidden among them — and found myself facing the stony cliff. I swam along the edge until I found the hole, right where I knew it would be.
It didn’t look as big as I remembered, but I’d been a child the last time I’d seen it. It was only a meter or so in height, and perhaps three meters across, a mouth leading into the belly of the earth.
I knew that somewhere inside that cave was the source of the spring, but I resisted the temptation to go straight in. I wanted to explore the entire west bank and make a note of each opening of any significant size. I wanted to know where the other potential exits were in case I got lost or trapped.
Or in case something else decides to come out.
I swam along the edge heading north, staying close to the bed. The vegetation was shorter here, the ground rockier from the frequent deposits from the escarpment, which made it harder for the larger plants to thrive, but there were fewer openings in the rock face than I expected. I found a number of crabs hiding in small pockets and disturbed a catfish who darted out suddenly from its hiding place, but there was only one other opening of any size, partially concealed by a thick patch of seaweed. I stuck in my head and looked around. It was about two or three meters in diameter and there were a number of small bones on the bottom, lying half-submerged in the silt. There didn’t appear to be any exits.
I continued north and when I got to the far end of the lagoon I turned around and started making my way back. I w
as feeling more confident now. According to my watch I’d been underwater for almost twenty five minutes. If anything was going to attack me, surely it would have already happened by now.
I resurfaced and swam back to the floating dock to record my observations, drawing the approximate size and location of each of the entrances. They were somewhat rough estimates but sufficient for my purposes. If worst came to worst, people would know where to look for my body.
When I was finished, I swam back out and repeated the process for the escarpment south of my original starting point at the approximate middle of the lagoon. I found three cave openings large enough for a creature the size of the Fish-Man to squeeze through, all relatively close together. After taking a cursory look at each, I again returned to the dock to record my data.
By this time, it was after noon and my exertions had built up a considerable appetite. I stripped off my gear, retrieved my cooler from the boat, and sat down to eat my tuna and kale sandwich. The sky was still a brilliant, flawless blue, and though hot, was not nearly as scorching as it might have been. All in all, it was a beautiful day for conducting my research.
Of course, it wasn’t exactly the research I’d set out to do when I was planning my trip from Atlanta.
As I ate, I examined the escarpment, wondering what secrets it held. What was I going to do if I found the Fish-Man hidden in one of those holes?
I looked at my speargun. It looked flimsy in comparison to my vivid recollections of the creature. I wasn’t convinced it would do more than annoy him. Like a bee stinging a bear.
I drank some grapefruit juice and then rubbed myself down with more suntan lotion. I’d have to wait a while for my food to digest.
I looked back at the cabin and at the empty lane.
Chet’ll be back soon. Maybe I should call it a day and row back?
I dismissed the thought almost immediately. I was too jacked up on adrenaline to quit now. I could hardly sit still. I couldn’t leave those cave openings unexplored. It was impossible.
I stretched out on my back and stared up at the sky. The dock rocked gently beneath me, but I couldn’t relax. I could hear the soft lap of the water against the drums, the buzz of mosquitoes and dragonflies, the distant screeching of gulls, the faint rustle of wind in the trees. They all conspired to keep me awake. My whole body was vibrating with anticipation.
After half an hour, I heard Chet’s van pulling up the lane. I got up, watching as he slowed to a stop and got out. He glanced over at the dock and then came to an abrupt halt, doing a double-take. I waved. Chet waved back, shaking his head.
I watched as he went around to the back of the van and opened the doors. He pulled out some long strips of wood, a plastic bag, and a toolbox, and made his way over to the porch.
Henry never would have fixed the door frame himself. He would have hired someone else to do it.
Not that Henry couldn’t have done it; just that he considered manual work like that a waste of his talents. He didn’t do much of anything with his hands, except play with rocks. And Dolphin Girls.
Fuck him. You can do better.
Casting a glance back at Chet as he began to work at the door, I strapped myself back into my gear and jumped back into the water.
I decided to explore the three closely connected cave openings first. I selected one of the entrances, turned on the light on my mask, and cautiously swam in, careful not to disturb any of the sediment.
The tunnel was short and led to an irregularly-shaped chamber no more than three or four meters across. There was an exit in the back through which I swam. Beyond this I found a smaller space with a number of small exits too small to swim through. The tunnel curved back around and I found myself at a Y junction. On a hunch, I chose the one on the far side and came out of the last cave opening in the escarpment. A quick inspection of the third entrance demonstrated what I already knew: that it went back to the Y junction. I took some time to explore the small system more thoroughly but my original inspection was accurate: there was nothing of interest. The cave didn’t appear to be used by anything but a few fish.
I returned to the dock and drew a map of the system, recording my observations. Chet was still working on the door. In fact, he’d bought a whole new door. He must have pulled it out of the van when I was in the water. No wonder it had taken him so long to get back.
I swam back out and explored the cave entrance closest to the cabin. This one proved a little more promising. Though I didn’t notice it at first, owing to the angle of the rock formations, there was actually a large passage leading from the rear side of the cave. I followed this passage deeper into the earth and came out in a second chamber, this one even larger than the first. But my excitement was short-lived. There was no apparent exit from this cave, either. What there were, however, were a number of bones littering the floor. Large bones.
My heart began thudding in my chest. Ribs and skulls and thigh bones. I swam closer, horrified.
A deer.
Somehow a whole deer had ended up in an underwater cave. I looked around. There was no way it had swum into the cave by itself; it would have drowned trying to get there. And the bones hadn’t fossilized. They didn’t even look that old.
And there were a number of other bones as well. The bones of smaller animals — raccoons and rabbits and even snakes. In fact, it looked like a sort of refuse heap. But there were no human bones. At least, no bones that were obviously human.
I swam out of the cave, feeling shaken, and resurfaced. Chet was waving to me from the shore.
“I have to go,” he shouted. “Emergency at the store. But I got your door fixed.”
“Thanks!” I shouted back. “How much do I owe you?”
“You owe me a beer,” he shouted back. “Give me a call when you’re done playing Underwater Barbie.”
I gave him the finger, making him laugh. He got back into the van and pulled out, honking twice.
I swam back to the dock and recorded my recent discoveries. Only one cave left to check. The one I should have checked first, but that I’d held off on. Some part of me knew that I’d find something in there that I wasn’t going to like.
Maybe I should quit while I’m ahead, I thought anxiously.
I pictured the look that Henry would have given me and set my jaw.
My dad didn’t raise a quitter.
I took a sip of my juice and then waded back out. I ducked under the water and swam down to the hole. I could feel the current coming out of it now. It was subtle, just a vague pressure. I hadn’t noticed it the first time, but now that I’d spent half the day in the water my body had become attuned to the slightest changes. I peered into the cave, lingering on the threshold.
The moment of truth.
Tightening my grip on my speargun, I ducked my head under the stone and swam in. The low cave extended for perhaps three or four meters, sloping gradually deeper into the earth. Eventually I came to the source of the spring: a black maw in the floor of the cavern no larger than a dinner plate. I held my hand over the hole, feeling the upward pressure. The groundwater was only filling the lagoon as quickly as it evaporated, a unique environmental condition which I would no doubt have recorded in my logbook if more pressing research hadn’t presented itself. I noticed that the ceiling of the cave was higher here, high enough for me to stand up, and that there was a passage off to one side. A movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention, making my heart thump wildly in my chest.
I turned just in time to see the wide-open jaws of a full grown alligator. I swung the speargun and fired off a round, but I didn’t have time to aim and the bolt glanced harmlessly off its scales. The behemoth’s jaws snapped down over the end of the gun, ripping it from my hands.
I kicked my legs, darting beneath its belly, and swam toward the exit, kicking up as much silt as I could. I emerged from the cave into the blue-green light of the lagoon. The alligator had only been momentarily distracted by the cloud of mud. I made straight for th
e tall seaweed and disappeared inside, fumbling with the straps of my air cannister. Two rows of ivory teeth snapped through the swaying stalks, shredding them. I was staring eye to eye with the beast.
I slipped out of the air cannister and swung it up just in time to block the crushing jaws. They closed around the cannister, puncturing the metal and releasing a cloud of bubbles. The gator shook its head, but the cannister seemed to be stuck on its teeth. I swam straight up to the surface and then made directly for the boat, swimming for my life, expecting the beast’s fangs to sink into my leg at any moment and rip it off at the knee.
My fingers closed around the gunwale and I hauled myself up and over the side of the boat, collapsing on the bottom. The water erupted and the head of the alligator appeared, banging against the side of the boat before resubmerging.
I rolled to my hands and knees and grabbed the backpack, swinging it behind me in time to block the snapping jaws as the gator attempted to scramble onto the boat. It tore the bag from my hands.
Having nothing else to defend myself with, I kicked it in the side of the head. The alligator slipped over the side of the boat back into the water, but not before the boat tipped precariously. I lost my balance and fell into the bottom of the boat, striking my head on the bench.
Then everything went black.
Chapter Sixteen
Flashing jaws stretched wide, reaching for my face.
I sat up with a start, my heart pounding.
Immediately my head began to spin and I groped for something to hold onto. The world had gone dark. My hand closed around the side of the boat and I hunched over the side, face toward the water, fighting nausea. Night had fallen, and a thick fog had rolled in. It was so dark I could barely see my own hand clenched around the gunwale. The ribbits of frogs and the trill of crickets filled the night air. The back of my head was throbbing with a dull ache. I touched it gingerly, wincing. I had a lump, and my hair was sticky, but it felt like the bleeding had stopped. I’d knocked myself out.
Tamed by the Creature from the Lagoon Page 11
