by Alten-Steve
Jonas felt the warm liquid oozing down his forehead as he melted into unconsciousness.
THE KILL
D.J. Tanaka accelerated his AG II in a ninety-degree climb. He ignored the constant barrage begging him to respond, choosing instead to focus on the race at hand. Blood pounded in his ears, but his hands were steady. He knew the stakes were high, life and death. The adrenaline junkie grinned.
He glanced quickly over his left shoulder. The albino monster banked sharply away from the canyon wall, rocketing away from the seabed like a guided missile homing in on its escaping prey. D.J. estimated he had a twelve-hundred foot lead, the frigid waters a good two to three thousand feet away. It was going to be close.
The Glider burst through the thick haze created by the black smokers. D.J. looked back. The Meg was nowhere in sight. He checked his exterior temperature gauge. Fifty-two degrees and falling. I'm going to make it, he told himself.
The glow on the right side of the capsule registered in D.J.'s vision a split second before the gargantuan mouth exploded sideways into the submersible, the impact that of a locomotive colliding with an automobile. Spinning upside down in complete darkness, D.J. tried to scream, the sickening crunch of ceramic and Lexan glass deafening his ears as his skull imploded and crushed his brain.
The Megaolodon snorted the warm blood into its nostrils, its entire sensory system quivering in delight. It rammed its snout farther into the tight chamber, unable to reach the remains of D.J. Tanaka's upper torso.
Clutching the crippled sub in its jaws, the male descended toward the tropical currents below with its kill.
* * * * *
Jonas came to in complete darkness and an all-consuming silence. A sharp pain shot up his leg. His foot was caught on something. He worked it loose and turned his body. A warm liquid had drained into his eye. He wiped it away. Blood, he realized, though he could not see his hand in front of his face.
How long had he been out?
The power had shut down, but the compartment was steaming hot. I must by lying on the bottom, Jonas thought. He reached out blindly, feeling for the controls, only to find he had slipped out of the pilot's harness and fallen to the other end of the capsule. He felt his way back into the cockpit and groped for the controls on the panel. He flipped the power switch, but nothing happened. The AG II was dead in the water.
From above and outside the sub he saw something. A flare of light refracted in the Plexiglas. Jonas pushed forward into the Lexan bubble, craning his neck upward.
He caught sight of the male, swimming slowly toward the sea floor, a strange object dangled from the predator's jaws, the steel cable still attached, the slack now looping and winding itself around the Megalodon's torso.
* * * * *
Frank Heller sat frozen in his chair. "We need to know what's going on down there," he said, pointing at the blank monitors.
Terry continued in vain to make radio contact. "D.J., can you hear me? D.J.?"
DeMarco was speaking rapidly with Captain Barre over an internal phone line. He and his crew were stationed in the stern, manning the giant winch.
"Frank, Leon says there's movement registering on the steel cable. D.J.'s sub is still attached."
Heller jumped to his feet, moving to the TV monitor showing the winch on the rear deck. "We've got to haul him up before he dies down there. If he's lost power, we're his only chance."
"What about Jonas?" Terry asked.
"We have no way of reaching him," DeMarco answered, "but we might be able to save your brother."
Heller leaned forward in his console and spoke into the mike. "Leon, are you there?"
Leon Barre's voice boomed over the speaker. "You ready to haul him up?"
"Do it."
* * * * *
Jonas froze, watched as the male passed directly overhead, its belly quivering as its jaws opened and closed. The ravenous predator continued to torque its snout into the remains of the submersible, unconcerned about the steel cable that now encircled it.
Jonas focused beyond the creature, catching a shadow of movement. The slack was being taken in from above. Seconds later, the steel cable pulled taut against the monster's white hide, tearing into the shark's tender pectoral fins.
The crushing embrace of the cable sent the male Megalodon into spasms. It spun its torso in a fit of rage, whipping its caudal fin to and for in a futile attempt to struggle free. The more it fought, the more entangled it became.
Jonas stared in helpless fascination as the Megalodon fought in vain, unable to release itself from the steel bonds. With its pectoral fins pinned to its side, it couldn't stabilize itself. It shook its monstrous head from side to side, causing powerful concussion waves which pummeled the canyon wall. The creature's efforts served only to exhaust it.
After several minutes, the predator stopped thrashing, ceasing all movement. Within the tangled steel, the only sign of life came from the occasional flutter of its gills. Slowly, the Kiku 's winch began pulling the entrapped Megalodon up toward the frigid waters above.
The thrashing movements of the dying male sent vibrations cascading throughout the Challenger Deep.
THE FEMALE
It appeared out of nowhere, sweeping directly over Jonas, its deathly glow illuminating the black landscape like an enormous moon. Its sheer mass took several seconds to pass overhead. Until he caught sight of its towering tail fin, Jonas thought it might be some kind of submarine.
The female Megalodon was at least fifteen feet longer than the male, weighing well over twenty tons. A casual slap of her caudal fin sent a concussion wave exploding against the damaged sub, lifting and pushing it down the gully. Jonas braced himself as the AG II skidded across the canyon floor, flipping twice before settling in another cloud of silt. He pressed his face to the window and, as the muck settled, saw the female rise toward the male, still struggling in the cable.
Closing to within two body lengths, the female charged upward in a burst of acceleration and drove her hyperextended jaws around the soft underbelly of her mate. The colossal impact drove the smaller Megalodon fifty feet upward while the attacker's nine-inch serrated teeth tore open its white hide, exposing its heart and stomach.
The Kiku 's winch bit into the slack, gaining momentum, pulling the cable upward even as the female swallowed a massive hunk of her mate's digestive tract. Jonas could just make out the diminishing glow of the female as she continued rising with the carcass, her snout buried deep within the male's bleeding body, her swollen white belly quivering in spasms as she engulfed huge chunks of flesh and entrails. The female was pregnant, almost to term, her unborn pups' hunger insatiable. She refused to abandon her meal, even though she was now feeding in icy waters never before ventured. But the tropical-temperatured blood of her mate was bathing her in a thick river of warmth, escorting her upward as she rose out of the depths, making the journey tolerable. And so she continued feeding, her murderous jaws entrenched deep within the wound, shredding the spleen and duodenum as hundred of gallons of warm blood gushed over her torso, protecting her from the cold.
She's moving through the cold, Jonas realized. Trapped in his sub, Jonas watched the thrashing white glow disappear overhead, leaving the blackness of the canyon to close back around him.
* * * * *
Terry, DeMarco, and Heller had come out on deck, where the ship's medical team and at least a dozen other crew members peered over the railing, waiting for their missing comrade to surface.
Captain Barre stared at the iron O-ring that suspended the pulley from the steel frame of the winch. It was straining under the weight of its load, threatening to snap apart at any moment.
"I don't know what's on the other end of this," he said gravely, "but it sure as hell is more than D.J.'s sub."
ESCAPE
Jonas knew he'd suffocate if he didn't act quickly. The wings of his sub had been mangled in the crash, and the engine was out of commission. It would be impossible to ascend with the dead weight o
f the mechanical end of the craft. He had to find the emergency lever and jettison the Lexan escape pod.
Jonas was drenched in sweat, beginning to feel dizzy again. He couldn't be sure if it was from loss of blood or the steadily diminishing oxygen. Waves of panic accelerated by the claustrophobia rattled his nerves. His fingers groped along the floor beneath his stomach, locating the small storage compartment. Jonas leaned backward, pulling open the hatch, straining to reach the spare tank of oxygen. He unscrewed a valve and released a steady stream of air into the pod.
Now he rolled back into the cockpit's harness, strapping himself into position. Feeling along his right, he found the metal latch box, opened it, then gripped the emergency lever, readying himself.
Jonas yanked back hard on the handle and a bright flash seared the darkness behind him, jolting him against the pilot's harness as the capsule exploded into the water and over the canyon floor. The pod had two short stabilizing wings, but still it twisted under the impact from the explosion, spiraling through the water.
Gradually the Lexan pod lost its forward momentum and began a gentle ascent. The clear capsule was positively buoyant, and it rose quickly. Still, it would be several hours before it reached the surface, and Jonas knew he had to concentrate on keeping warm. His clothes were soaked with perspiration and he temperature was plummeting.
* * * * *
The green surface waters began to bubble with a bright pink froth. Then the enormous white head of the male Megalodon broke the surface. Below the steel cable held together the few hunks of flesh and connective tissue still attached to the long spinal column and caudal fin, which dangled in the water beneath it.
The crew of the Kiku stared in amazement as the remains of the devoured monster were hauled to of the water and across the broad deck of the ship. Twisted into the cable, dangling from the monstrous head of the giant shark, were the mangled remains of D.J. Tanaka's sub.
Terry collapsed to her knees, staring blankly at the incomprehensible disaster before her.
* * * * *
Jonas had been rising steadily in the darkness for two hours. Loss of blood and the bitter cold of the deep sea had rendered him barely conscious. He had lost all feeling in his toes and hands. He still could see nothing in the pitch-black water, but new he'd eventually see light if he could only hang on.
* * * * *
Frank Heller lowered his binoculars and scanned the seascape with his naked eye. From the bridge he could see all three Zodiac search boats, scattered within a quarter-mile periphery of the Kiku.
DeMarco stood beside him at the rail. "The Navy choppers better get here soon," he said.
"It's too late. If he doesn't surface in the next ten minutes..." Heller didn't finish the sentence. They both knew that if Jonas hadn't been killed by the Megalodon, he'd certainly die from exposure to the cold.
Heller turned to look for the hundredth time at the giant white head and the spinal column of the monster on the deck below. The science team was examining the carcass. One member was taking photographs.
"If that... thing killed D.J.... what on God's earth killed it?" he said.
DeMarco stared down at the bloody head. "I don't know. But it sure as shit wasn't a landslide."
* * * * *
Terry stood at the bow of the yellow Zodiac as it bounced through the choppy water. She searched the waves ahead of her for a glimpse of the other AG II pod. Until they found it, she had no time for grieving, no time for the pain in her heart. She had to locate Jonas while any chance remained.
Leon Barre steered from the rear of the boat. "I'm going to circle back," he shouted.
"Wait!" Terry saw something in the swells. She pointed off the starboard bow. "Over there."
The red vinyl flag was just visible over the crest of the waves. Leon guided them to the capsule, which bobbed gently in the water. They could see Jonas's body through the Lexan escape pod.
"Is he alive?" Leon asked, peering over the bow.
Terry leaned over the water as they drew close.
"Yes," she said gratefully. "He's alive."
HARBOR
Frank Heller couldn't figure out how the news had spread so quickly. It had taken less than twelve hours for the Kiku to reach the Aura Harbor naval base in Guam. Two Japanese television crews and one from the local station were waiting for them on the dock, along with press reporters and photographers for the Navy, the Manila Times, and the local Guam Sentinel. They surrounded Heller the moment he disembarked, bombarding him with questions about the giant shark, the dead pilot, and the surviving scientist who'd been airlifted ahead for medical treatment.
"Professor Taylor suffered a concussion and is being treated for hypothermia and blood loss, but I understand he is recovering well," Heller told them.
The cameramen trained their lenses on Heller, but when the carcass of the Megalodon was hoisted up on the crane, they scrambled for a shot.
An insistent young Japanese woman pressed her microphone at Heller. "Where will you take the shark?"
"We'll be flying the remains back to the Tanaka Oceanographic Institute as soon as possible."
"What happened to the rest of it?"
"We're not certain at this point. The shark might have been ripped apart by the cable that entangled it."
"It looks like it's been eaten," said the balding American with bushy eyebrows. "Is it possible another shark attacked this one?"
"It's possible, but—"
"Are you saying there are more out there?"
"Did anyone see—"
"Do you think—"
Heller raised his hands. "Please, please — one at a time." He nodded to a heavyset man from the Guam paper with his pen raised in the air.
"I guess what we want to know, Doc, is whether it's safe to go in the water?"
Heller spoke confidently. "Let me put your fears to rest. If there are any more of these sharks in the Mariana Trench, six miles of near-freezing water stands between them and us. Apparently, it's kept them trapped down there for at least two million years. It'll probably keep 'em down there a few million more."
"Dr. Heller?"
Heller turned. David Adashek stood before him. "Isn't Professor Taylor a marine paleontologist?" Adashek asked innocently.
Heller glanced furtively at the crowd. "Yes. He has done some work—"
"More than some work. I understand he has a theory about these... dinosaur sharks. I believe they're called Megalodons?"
"Yes, well, I think I'll leave it to Dr. Taylor to explain his theories to you. Now if—
"Is this a—?"
"If you don't mind, we've all got a lot of work to do." Heller pushed off through the crowd, ignoring the flurry of questions that followed him.
"Gangway!" came a thundering voice from behind. Leon Barre was supervising the transferal of the Megalodon carcass onto the dock.
A photographer pushed to the front and shouted, "Captain, could we get your picture with the monster?"
Barre waved his arm at the crane operator. The Megalodon head came to a stop in midair, its spine and caudal fin dragging on the dock and its jaws open to the sky. The cameramen scrambled for an angle, but the carcass was so long it would not fit into the frame. The monstrous predator made the burly man look like a small child.
"Smile, Captain," someone shouted.
Barre continued staring grimly. "I am," he grunted.
THE MAGNATE
Maggie was lying topless on the teakwood deck of the yacht. The sun beat down upon the oil glistening on her body.
"You always said a tan looks good on-camera." Bud stood over her in his swim trunks, his face lost in the glare.
Maggie shielded her eyes, squinted up at him. "This is for you, baby," she said with a smile. "But not now." She turned over on her stomach and watched a tiny television. "Now you can fetch me another drink."
"Sure, Maggie," he said, his eyes drifting down her back. "Anything you say." He shuffled off to the cabin of the Magnate to
mix a vodka and tonic.
A minute later she screamed his name. Bud ran out on deck. Maggie was sitting up, clutching the towel to her breasts, staring openmouthed at the TV. "I don't believe it!"
"What?!" Bud hurried over, looked at the TV. The Megalodon's head and fang-filled jaws filled the monitor, dangling from the crane of the Kiku.
"...could be the giant prehistoric shark known as the Megalodon, ancestor of the great white. No one seems to know how the shark could have survived, but Dr. Jonas Taylor, who was injured in the capture, may be able to provide some answers. The professor is currently recovering at the naval hospital in Guam.
"In China today, negotiations for a trade..."
Maggie rushed for the cabin, Bud shouting after her. "Where're you going?"
"I need to call my office." She ran into the pilothouse, wrapping herself in a towel. "Phone!" she screamed at the captain. He pointed behind her, staring an extra few seconds as she exposed her back to him.
Maggie frantically dialed the office. Her secretary told her a Mr. David Adashek had been trying to contact her all morning. She took down the number, then dialed the overseas operator to connect her to Guam. Several minutes later, the line was ringing.
"Adashek."
"David, what the fuck is happening?"
"Maggie? I've been trying to call you all morning. Where the hell have—?"
"Never mind that. What's going on? Where did that shark come from? Where's Jonas? Has anyone spoken with him yet?"
"Hey, slow down. Jonas is recovering in the Guam naval hospital, with a guard posted at his door so no one can speak with him. The shark's for real. Looks like you were wrong about your husband."
