by Brian Keene
Alarmed, Carrie shook her head, aware that she had drifted off again. She looked for Paolo, noticing two things as she did.
Her lips were starting to go numb.
And the water temperature had plummeted.
Suspicious, Carrie glanced around nervously. Aware of the risk she was now under, she was just about to signal Paolo and head for the surface, when something else caught her attention. Her eyes widened in horror.
A large, dark, amorphous shape slowly emerged from the trench, scuttling up over the lip and heading for Paolo. With the low light and debris, she still couldn’t see it clearly. She saw the same spindly, sharp edges alongside softer, fleshier appendages, and had a sense of a horseshoe crab crossed with a jellyfish and giant squid. She fought the crazy urge to open her mouth and scream a warning for him to get away. Paolo seemed oblivious to the danger, but he did pause, tapping his ear. Carrie realized that the radio must have started to fail, as the waters became flooded with the interfering substance emitted by the creature.
Her lungs began to ache as she ran low on air. Paolo turned toward her and caught sight of the threat surging toward him. Even from this distance, and despite the poor visibility, she thought she saw his expression register panic.
Clutching a specimen bag tightly, Paolo plunged into a crevice, hiding between outcroppings of coral and rock. Carrie watched with a stomach-churning mix of amazement and horror as the segmented creature ripped into the silt under the coral, furiously trying to dig Paolo out. The debris from the excavation obscured them both.
Her head began to pound and her ears rang, signaling that she was just about to run out of oxygen. More alarmingly, the numbing sensation was beginning to spread throughout her body. Concerned over what effect it might be having on Paolo, and how much oxygen he had left in his lungs, she swam upward, keeping the boat in sight. Although she couldn’t see Paolo or the creature, when she reached a depth of twenty meters above the swirling cloud of silt, Carrie grabbed a handful of flares from her dive belt. Recalling how aggressively the thing had attacked the lights on the previous dive, she dropped the torches. The debris cleared as the flares neared the coral, enough that she spotted the enraged creature pause in its digging to attack the lights instead. She dropped another handful of torches and caught a glimpse of Paolo swimming hard, north and east along the reef, staying low and close to the coral.
Fighting against the sinister paralysis creeping through her body, Carrie made her way up to the boat. A roaring sound filled her ears, and her vision grew spotty. The vessel floated above her, surrounded by a halo of filtered sunlight. She was afraid to take her eyes off the hull. She surfaced, sputtering, years of training and instinct forgotten in a moment of panic, and gulped precious air. Waves slapped her face, yet she barely felt the sting.
The buzzing in her ears subsided, giving way to the churn of the surf and Abhi calling out to her in concern.
“Are you okay? Carrie? Talk to me! Where’s Paolo?”
Paddling for the boat, Carrie spat water. “Drop … flares…”
“What?”
“Drop some flares! Hurry, Abhi! Just drop them in the water.”
Without further comment, Abhi rushed to the torch crate and ripped the lid off the wooden box. Carrie clambered over the side of the craft, dripping water in her wake. With no time to explain, she hurried over to the crate and grabbed a handful of flares. Abhi did the same. Then, they began dropping the lit torches into the water. Carrie hoped that it would be enough to distract the creature a little bit longer, and buy Paolo more time to escape.
Except that he’s out of time, she thought. There can’t be much air left in his lungs.
“Get ready to move,” she gasped. “Take us north and east. But slowly.”
“Carrie, tell me what’s happening! Where’s Paolo?”
“I don’t have time to go into it, Abhi. The creature attacked us. Paolo escaped, but he’s so far off now, he’ll need the torches to relocate us.”
Nodding, Abhi rushed back to the case and dragged it to the middle of the deck. They stood on each side, lighting flares and dropping them into the churning water. Carrie watched the lights as they descended into the depths, and was once again reminded of fireflies. She shivered in the heat. The torches continued to fall, but there was no sign of Paolo—or the creature.
Without taking her gaze away from the ocean, Carrie reached down, fumbling for more flares. Her fingers skittered across bare wood. When she glanced down, she saw that the crate was empty.
Paolo still hadn’t surfaced.
“Come on,” she whispered. “Come on, come on, come on…”
“Carrie,” Abhi said, his voice low, “maybe we should—”
“We’re not leaving.”
“That’s not what I was going to suggest.”
Gripping the rail, Carrie stared at the water. The railing was scorching hot after sitting for so long in the sunlight, but she barely noticed. She chewed her lip, and tasted blood.
“Not like Peter,” she whispered. “Not Paolo.”
The lights continued to sink, getting smaller and smaller now.
Then, they started to go out.
There was a commotion off the starboard side, as something surfaced with a loud splash.
“There,” Abhi shouted, pointing. “Over there!”
It was Paolo. He had come up a few hundred feet away from the boat. Abhi and Carrie called to him, but then Carrie glanced back down into the depths.
The falling torchlights continued to wink out, one by one, closer and closer to the surface.
“Shit! Abhi, motor over to Paolo.”
“Are you sure? He seems okay. He’s swimming toward us.”
“So is that thing! We need to get to Paolo while it’s still distracted by the torches.”
Abhi raced for the motor and got it started. It sputtered, belching blue-gray smoke and diesel fumes, and then hummed. As he pointed the boat toward Paolo, Carrie rushed to the bow. The boat bounced up and down on the waves. Saltwater splashed her face, but this time, Carrie felt it, as the paralysis faded. She dropped a few more torches, flinging them as far as she could, hoping to distract the predator a little longer. Then, she turned her attention back to the surface and kept sight of Paolo, bobbing with the swells like a human beach ball.
“Slow down,” she shouted over the roar of the motor. “Only about fifty feet!”
Abhi did as commanded, but rather than idling, the motor coughed again, releasing another plume of smoke, and then died. The ocean suddenly seemed very quiet.
“What the—” Abhi pounded on it with his fist.
Carrie cupped her hands around her mouth. “Swim, Paolo!”
Abhi removed his hat and wiped his brow. Glowering, he checked over the motor.
“You’ve got gas and oil,” he said to the stubborn engine. “What else do you need?”
Paolo swam for them, closing the distance with seemingly no trouble, despite the length of time he’d been underwater. Even alongside her terror, Carrie was filled with admiration for his abilities. Paolo reached the boat while Abhi cursed and pleaded with the motor. Carrie reached for Paolo’s outstretched hand, and grasped it firmly.
“You okay?”
He nodded, too winded to speak. Then he smiled.
Carrie smiled back at him. “I’m glad.”
Then, as she began to haul him aboard, something seized Paolo from below.
Paolo screamed. “My leg! It’s got my leg!”
Yelling, Carrie pulled hard, but the creature pulled back—a horrifying game of tug-o-war, with the terrified diver as the rope. Paolo’s eyes were wide circles, and his complexion turned alabaster from shock. His breathing came in short, panicked gasps.
“Don’t let go,” he pleaded. “Don’t let go! Oh God…”
“Abhi,” Carrie shouted. “Help me—”
He was at her side before she could finish, grabbing Paolo’s other flailing arm and tugging. Abhi gritted his teeth,
grunting with the effort, and cursed in three languages. Carrie braced her feet against the bow and renewed her efforts. Paolo’s screams turned to unintelligible shrieks as the creature refused to let go. His wetsuit slipped in their grasp. Carrie shrieked as he slid away from her, but Abhi held on tight. Seconds later, Paolo’s frantic cries were drowned out as something scraped against the bottom of the boat, denting the metal hull from beneath.
“Oh Jesus,” Abhi breathed. “It’s going to tear through…”
“Pull,” Carrie screamed, grabbing Paolo’s outstretched hand. “Pull, goddamn it!”
The boat rose suddenly, higher and more rapidly than any wave could have tossed it. Carrie’s grip slipped again, and Paolo’s hand fluttered away. Once more, Abhi managed to hold on. The boat’s hull buckled behind them as something slammed against it. Metal shrieked torturously. Then, the boat crashed back down again, slamming into the water. Salt spray hit their faces. Abhi pulled, the tendons standing out in his neck. Carrie leaned forward, and managed to get her arms around Paolo’s chest. The two of them yanked him from the ocean and onto the deck.
“Careful,” he groaned. “The sample…”
Carrie looked to where he was pointing and saw a sample bag affixed to his belt, bulging with an egg of some kind, big enough that it barely fit inside the container. Then her attention returned to Paolo. Blood smeared the deck around him, streaming from a horrific-looking wound on his leg.
“Get us out of here,” Carrie told Abhi. “Hurry!”
“If you know any prayers,” he muttered, “now would be a good time to use them.”
Ignoring him, Carrie knelt beside Paolo and tended to his wound. His wetsuit had been slashed open, and blood welled steadily from a gaping, tattered hole just above his ankle. Worse, his calf and ankle were both black from what appeared to be the beginning stages of frostbite. Before she could examine the injury further, the creature slammed into the bottom of the boat again. The hull rose and buckled directly beneath them. Gear and equipment crashed to the deck and rolled around.
“Abhi! Do something!”
“I’m working on it!”
Paolo whimpered as Carrie touched his leg. Despite the heat, his lips were chattering and his skin was covered in gooseflesh.
“You’re going into shock,” she said. “Try to relax, Paolo. It’s going to be okay. I promise. Just hang on. You hear me? Hang on!”
She realized then that both of them were crying. She clasped his hand and squeezed. Paolo rolled his head back and forth in agony, but he squeezed back. He tried to smile at her, but could only grimace.
Behind them, Abhi began hitting the motor with a wrench, and swearing at it in several different languages.
“Gatito,” Paolo sighed. “I…”
“Don’t talk,” she said. “Just hang on.”
Carrie looked closer at Paolo’s punctured ankle, and discovered why the blood flow was a trickle rather than a flood. There was something lodged in the wound. Something about the size of a golf ball. Frowning, she bent closer and squinted. She couldn’t be sure what the object was, but it looked like a hard, ovoid mineral.
The boat shot upward again as the creature battered it from below, causing all three of them to scream. Then, as it slammed back down, the diesel long-tail motor roared to life.
“Go,” she shouted, holding on to Paolo. “Go-go-go-go!”
Abhi teased the throttle, apparently concerned about the engine stalling out again. Carrie wanted to scream at him to hurry up, but she resisted, fighting down her panic by focusing again on Paolo’s leg. Behind her, the motor grew louder as Abhi slowly increased their speed. He shouted, but Carrie couldn’t be sure if it was from triumph or terror.
Paolo followed her eyes to his wound. Fading toward shock, he clasped her hand again.
“Get it … out. And … take care of … this…”
He let go of her hand and gently patted the scavenged egg. Then his eyes rolled up in his head, and he went limp, sagging against the dented metal deck.
Carrie stood up and glanced over the side, scanning the ocean for signs of pursuit. The ocean was choppy and clouded, and silt swirled in their wake, but the creature was nowhere in sight. She grabbed the first aid kit, and then hurried over to the toolbox and rummaged inside of it, searching for a pair of needle-nose pliers.
“How is he?” Abhi called.
“He’s unconscious, and there’s something lodged in his leg.”
“What kind of something? You mean like a stingray barb?”
“I don’t know what it is,” Carrie admitted. She looked again. “It’s organic.”
“And that thing in the water?”
“I don’t see it. Maybe it gave up. Just keep us steady.”
“Petal to the medal,” Abhi said, accentuating.
“I think you mean pedal to the metal, Abhi.”
“That’s what I said, Carrie. Now is not the time to—”
“Sorry. You’re right. I’m just … scared.”
“I am, too,” Abhi admitted.
Returning to Paolo with the pliers and the first aid kit, she knelt down again and tilted his leg. Blood and water rushed over her feet as the boat rocked with the swells.
“Keep it steady,” she yelled. “I’m going to try to pull it out.”
“I’m doing my best,” Abhi countered. “But it’s getting choppier out here!”
Carrie noticed that her hands were trembling, as she first poured disinfectant over the pliers, and then over Paolo’s wound. He moaned and twitched as the pink foam bubbled around the injury, but didn’t wake. Carrie paused, using her breathing techniques to get her shaking under control. Then, she carefully tried to pull the object from Paolo’s ankle. More blood welled around the pliers as she worked them around the object, pushing his flesh apart. Wincing, she finally managed to grip the ovoid. Then she pulled. Paolo groaned, clenching and unclenching his fists, but remained unconscious. She was glad for that. If he had been awake, there was no doubt in her mind he’d be screaming right now.
She felt like screaming herself.
Cursing, Carrie tugged harder at the mineral. Slowly, it cleared the ragged, blackened flesh of his ankle, but still refused to come entirely free. Then she saw why. The bottom of the ovoid was lodged deeper in his leg via a hook-like barb. She couldn’t extract it without doing a lot more damage to Paolo. They needed a doctor. Or better yet, a surgeon.
She looked up and saw Abhi smiling sadly at her.
“Don’t worry.” His expression belied his reassuring tone. “We’ll make it to shore.”
Biting her lip again, Carrie nodded. She just hoped they’d make it in time.
EIGHT
“Any sign of it?” Abhi called over his shoulder.
“No,” Carrie said, cradling Paolo’s head in her lap. He still hadn’t regained consciousness, and his skin was cold and pale. Carrie wasn’t sure if that was from shock or the result of the creature’s attack on him. She had used some shop rags and a length of rope to fashion bandages and a crude tourniquet above his wound. Paolo had whimpered during the process, but remained out cold.
She was worried about him, and also feeling unsettled by the emotions his condition had stirred up in her—emotions she’d long thought sealed away in a drawer, along with old cards and letters.
“What is it, anyway?” Abhi asked. “That thing that attacked us?”
“I don’t know,” Carrie admitted. “I still didn’t get a good look. It seemed … it looked like some bizarre hodgepodge of a bunch of different animals. At first, I thought it might be a giant crab, but then—”
“A giant crab,” Abhi interrupted. “You mean like a Clicker?”
At first, Carrie wasn’t sure if Abhi was joking or not. It was hard to see his expression, since he was turned away from her.
“The Megarachne Servinei? That was just a hoax—a misidentification. It was never a real sea creature.”
Carrie thought back to when Megarachne Servinei had
first come to scientific light twenty years earlier, when a fossil was discovered in Argentina. It was thought, at the time, to be the biggest spider to ever walk the earth, and was even recognized in the Guinness Book of World Records as such. Plaster casts of the fossil were exhibited in museums around the world. But then Sinclair, a researcher from the University of Manchester had insisted that its origins be reclassified, writing for a scientific journal that the fossil was more of a cross between a giant crab and a sea scorpion. He had intended to offer proof that the Megarachne Servinei was an aquatic relative of the giant eurypterid and the Woodwardopterus, an invasive species from the Carboniferous Period. Unfortunately, Sinclair had died unexpectedly before he could ever finish presenting his findings. That hadn’t stopped various Internet-based conspiracy theorists and cryptozoologists from speculating that he’d been right, however, and that the creatures, popularized by the nickname Clickers, still existed somewhere in the depths of the ocean.
“I don’t believe that,” Abhi said. “I know people who’ve seen one—or even heard one. In the North Atlantic, and off the coast of Maine, and another in the waters near Cuba.”
“It wasn’t a Clicker,” Carrie insisted. “Maybe they saw or heard something they couldn’t explain, but the Clickers were a hoax.”
“The sea still has all kinds of secrets, even today.”
“Maybe so, but that thing I saw wasn’t a Clicker, either. It only looked like a giant crab at first. It’s difficult to explain. It seemed to keep changing. There were tentacles, and a tail, and maybe a shell. I had a sense of it … flowing. That’s not exactly the right word, but I don’t know how else to describe it.”
“And that thing he brought on board? Is that what I think it is?”
“I don’t know. What do you think it is?”
“It looks like an egg to me.”
Carrie didn’t respond. Instead, she gently patted Paolo’s cheeks, trying to rouse him. Her attempts were unsuccessful.
“Paolo? Can you hear me? I need you to hang on.”
“I’m going to radio ahead,” Abhi said. “That way we can have paramedics on standby at the dock to take him to Jeetoo in Port Louis. That’s the closest hospital. Okay?”
