by Alten-Steve
His head ached even worse and he felt nauseated. "Why do I let her talk me into these things? Enough's enough!" He grabbed a pair of swim trunks and his bathrobe and headed up on deck.
"Where's Maggie?" he demanded.
Abby Schwartz sat on deck, monitoring the audio track. "She's in the tube, Bud. Hey, we're getting some great—"
"We're leaving. Rodney!"
Rod Miller looked up. "Really? That's the best news I've heard all week. When?"
"Now. Pull Maggie in and cut that damn whale loose before the Coast Guard arrests us."
"Wait!" Peter Arnold held up his hand. "Something's happening out there. Look at my monitor. It's getting brighter."
* * * * *
Maggie saw the glow first, illuminating what remained of the humpback carcass. Then the head appeared, as big as her mother's mobile home and totally white. She felt her heart pounding in her ears, unable to comprehend the size of the creature that was casually approaching the bait. The snout rubbed against the offering first, testing it. Then the jaws opened. The first bite separated a six-foot chunk of blubber from the carcass; the second swallowed it whole, the movement of the powerful jaws sending quivers across the gill slits, vibrating the flesh along its stomach.
Maggie felt herself drifting to the bottom of the shark tube. She couldn't move. She was in total awe of the Megalodon, its power, its nobility and grace. She raised her camera slowly, afraid she might alert the creature. It continued feeding.
"Christ, pull her back in!" Bud ordered.
"Bud, this is what we came here for." Rodney was excited. "What a monster! Goddamn, this is amazing footage!"
"Pull her back in now, Miller." Bud sounded irritated, and more. He had seen the size of the Meg on the monitor. Maggie was in danger.
"She's gonna be mighty pissed off," said Peter Arnold.
"Listen to me, both of you," demanded Bud. "This is my yacht. I'm paying for everything. Get her in, now!"
Rod started the winch, the steel cable snapping to attention as it began dragging the shark cylinder through the water.
* * * * *
The Meg stopped feeding, her senses alerted to the sudden movement. Being plastic, the shark tube had not given off any electronic vibrations, and so the predator had ignored it. Now the Meg abandoned the carcass, sculling forward to examine the new stimulus.
Maggie watched the Megalodon approach. It fubbed its snout along the curvature of the shark tube, confused. Now it turned, focusing with its left eye.
It sees me, she realized.
The tube continued moving toward the Magnate.
These idiots are going to get me killed, Maggie thought, bracing her legs against the inside of the tube for support.
The Meg kept moving its mouth, almost as if it was speaking to her. Then it opened its jaws wider, attempting to wrap its mouth around the tube. Without any leverage to gain a hold, the Meg kept losing the plastic cylinder as it slid off her teeth.
Maggie smiled. "Too big for ya, huh." Regaining her nerve, she repositioned the camera, filming the cavernous mouth only a few feet away. This is my Academy Award, she thought.
The tube was only twenty feet away from the Magnate when the Meg turned. Maggie caught a flicker of its caudal fin before it disappeared into the gray mist. She took a breath, all smiles.
* * * * *
"It moved off," said Peter Arnold.
"Thank God," said Bud. "Get her out of there before it comes back."
"Ohhh shit!" yelled Arnold. He scurried backward on all fours away from the edge of the rail.
The Meg had circled, accelerating at the tube. Maggie screamed, biting into her regulator as the 42,000 pound monster slammed its hyperextended jaws onto the cylinder. Maggie's body smashed into the interior wall of the tube, her head spinning form a concussion wave that would have shattered her skull had she not been underwater. The cylinder impacted the Magnate, propelled from behind by the Megalodon. Even hyperextended, the creature's jaws still could not wrap around its prey. But the tips of a few of the Megalodon's teeth managed to catch on to the cylinder's drainage holes. The Meg had established a grip, although, try as it might, the creature could not generate enough leverage with its jaws to crush the tube.
Frustrated, the beast rose to the surface in a mad frenzy, the plastic cylinder still locked in its bite. The Meg turned slowly away from the Magnate, plowing the tube ahead of its open mouth, creating a ten-foot wake along the surface. At the end of its length, the steel cable snapped. The Megalodon rose vertically out of the sea, and in an unfathomable display of brute strength, lifted the shark tube above the waves and, as if in slow motion, shook it back and forth, water streaming out of the tube's vent holes.
Maggie squeezed her eyes shut as she slid downward, her oxygen tanks colliding with the base of the tube. A moment later she tumbled backward in the opposite direction, each collision bringing her closer to unconsciousness.
The effort of supporting the shark tube and its passenger quickly wore down the Megalodon. The female released her death grip on the cylinder, circling it as it sank swiftly beneath the waves.
CAT AND MOUSE
"Mac, I can see a chum slick," yelled Jonas. Through his night glasses he saw a grayish haze appear over the darker Pacific.
Mac glanced at the thermal imaging monitor. "I can see it too."
"Mac, where are we?"
"Twenty-six miles due west of San Francisco. You should be able to see the Farallon Islands." Mac noticed a new hot spot on the monitor, the heat of twin engines showing clearly. "Hey, what's that yacht doing out here?"
"Can you take us down?"
The copter dropped to five hundred feet.
Jonas looked through the night binoculars, zooming up onto the deck of the ship. "Wait a minute... I know that yacht. The Magnate! It's Bud Harris's ship."
"The guy you told me is bangin' your wife?" Mac circled the yacht. "How 'bout I see if I can hit his deck with my tool chest from this height. So what's Mr. Moneybags doin' out here, chumming blood off his twenty-million-dollar yacht?"
Jonas pulled the glasses away from his face. "Maggie."
Chaos reigned on board the Magnate. Captain Talbott had started the engines, then shut them down, afraid the noise would attract the Meg. Rod was excited, yelling to everyone that they needed to continue filming, but Bud was in a state of shock, kneeling on deck, head in hands. When the helicopter appeared, he had panicked, thinking it was the Coast Guard, afraid the authorities had come to arrest him because of the humpback carcass.
"Bud," yelled Abby, "some guy in that helicopter wants to speak with you. Says his name is Jonas."
"Did you say Jonas?" Bud jumped to his feet and ran into the control room.
"Jonas, it's not my fault. You know Maggie, she does whatever she wants!"
"Bud, calm down," commanded Jonas. "What're you talking about?"
"The Meg. It took her. She's trapped in that damn shark tube. It wasn't my fault!"
Mac spotted the Megalodon, pointing to the slowly circling hot spot on the monitor. She was circling in fifty feet of water, three hundred yards off the Magnate 's bow. "I'm not getting a thermal reading on Maggie. She must be wearing a wet suit."
Jonas focused with the night glasses. "I think I see her," he said, barely able to distinguish the outline of her fluorescent white wet suit. He picked up the radio's mike. "Bud, how much oxygen does she have left?"
Rod Miller grabbed the radio. "Jonas, this is Rodney. I'm guessing no more than five minutes. If we can distract the Meg, we could get her out of there."
Jonas tried to think. What would draw the monster's attention away from Maggie? The copter? Then Jonas noticed the Zodiac.
"Bud, the Zodiac, is it working?"
"The Zodiac? Yeah, it works fine."
"Get it ready to launch," ordered Jonas. "I'm coming aboard."
* * * * *
Maggie fought to stay awake. Everything hurt, but the pain was good. It kept her conscious. H
er face mask had a hairline crack leaking water into her eyes. Her ears were ringing, and it hurt to breathe. The Megalodon continued circling counterclockwise, watching her with its functional left eye. The glow from its hide cast an eerie light, illuminating Maggie's wet suit. She checked her oxygen supply: three minutes of air left.
I've gotta make a break for it, she told herself. She grabbed the video cam tightly to her chest, refusing to leave it behind.
* * * * *
Jonas hung on a cable from the chopper's winch, the dart gun strapped across his back, earphones around his neck. "Remember, Mac," he yelled, "wait until I say before you hit her with the beam."
Mac looked at the spotlight to his left. "Don't worry about me, Doc. Just don't get eaten."
Jonas gave the thumbs-up, and Mac lowered him to the deck of the Magnate.
Bud and Rodney grabbed him by the waist. He slipped out of the harness. "Ready?"
Bud pointed to the starboard rail. "Zodiac's in the water. What do you want us to do?"
"I'm going to distract the Meg. Once she follows me, get your yacht over to Maggie's location and get her the hell out of there, fast."
Bud helped Jonas over the rail. He stepped into the center of the yellow rubber raft. The Johnson motor read "65 horsepower." He started the engine, looking up at Bud.
"Wait for Mac to signal you that the Meg has moved off. Then get Maggie, okay?"
Bud nodded in agreement, watching the Zodiac take off.
The rubber raft skimmed across the surface, its engine a high-pitched whine. "Mac, can you hear me?"
The helicopter was hovering two hundred feet above the Zodiac. "Barely, pal. Fifty yards, not too close... Jonas, you're getting too close, she'd coming up!"
Jonas veered hard to his right as the dorsal fin broke the surface fifteen feet in front of him. He raced into open waters. "How am I doing?"
"Hard left," screamed Mac. The Zodiac turned, just as the Meg's jaws snapped shut in midair.
"Doc, quit yapping and keep zigzagging, and don't stop! Can't you go faster? She's right under you!"
Jonas sat low in the raft, gunning the engine, cutting hard against the wake. He couldn't see the Megalodon, but knew it was close. "Mac, tell Bud to get moving!"
* * * * *
The Magnate sprang to life, her twin engines spewing out blue smoke as the yacht move ahead. Maggie was already out of the cylinder, her gear left behind. She struggled to the surface with the underwater camera, kicking hard with her flippers.
* * * * *
"Jonas," yelled mac, "she's gone."
"Huh? Say again?"
Mac focused below. The Megalodon had given up the chase.
Maggie struggled in the darkness, heart pounding in her ears. And then her head broke the surface ten feet from the Magnate. She took a deep breath, hearing the cheers from her production crew.
"Way to go, champ," yelled Peter.
"Maggie, get in the fucking boat!" screamed Bud.
Exhausted, she released the heavy oxygen tanks and kicked, moving herself next to the yacht. "Bud, grab the camera." She struggled to lift it, but the forty-pound device was too heavy to lift from the water.
Bud was hanging over the side, reaching down. There was no ladder close. "Dammit, Maggie, I can't reach it."
Maggie felt a wave of dizziness. "Take the fucking camera, Bud!" she screamed with her last bit of energy.
He had no choice. Bud swung over the rail, holding tight with his left hand, reaching down with the right. He grabbed the camera, hefting it and swinging it back to Rodney, who took it — and screamed!
Maggie was rising out of the sea, levitated from below by the monster's open maw. The Megalodon's head continued rising, elevating Maggie, who had fallen into a dream state, imagining she was looking down on the upper deck of the yacht.
Abby was standing by the rail, on the upper deck, clutching her mouth, an expression of horror on her face. I'm warm, Maggie thought, registering the slightly higher temperature of the creature's mouth, still unable to grasp where she was or what was happening.
The white mammoth fell back into the water, jaws closing slowly, squeezing the breath from Maggie's lungs. As the triangular daggers punctured her rib cage, the pain jolted her to attention. She screamed a high-pitched wail, which ended as her head passed underwater.
Bud was hyperventilating, his limbs no longer his to control. The underwater hull lights were on, illuminating the monster's head. Bud couldn't move, staring at the face of the devil that looked back at him, hovering ten feet underwater. The creature appeared to be smiling, while Maggie, thrashing about, attempted to scream as she drowned in its grasp. The Megalodon seemed to be toying with her, Maggie's upper torso dangling from its jaws. Bud saw blood pour from his lover's open mouth as she struggled one last time in agony.
The predator turned its gaze on Bud. And then the hideous mouth opened, creating a vacuum that sucked Maggie into its black vortex and out of sight. Bud screamed. A bloody bubble rose, breaking the surface.
Bud was in shock, unable to move. He closed his eyes and waited to die. As if beckoned, the monster rose again from the sea for its next meal, its jaws open.
The bolt of light from above smashed through the darkness as if guided by the hand of God. It burned into the functional left eye of the Megalodon, permanently blinding the creature, sending a white-hot wave of stabbing pain into the optic lobe. The monster twisted sideways in convulsions as Jonas Taylor stood in the Zodiac, firing the dart at point-blank range into the creature's exposed abdomen.
The Megalodon spun backward into the sea, the wake flipping Jonas out of the raft. He surfaced, climbing quickly up and over the rail of the yacht.
His insides were quivering. The world was spinning out of control. He collapsed to the deck on all fours and vomited.
MORNING, MOURNING
There was no moon, no stars. Not a wave stirred. Bud stood at the rail and waited, the underwater lights of the Magnate illuminating the hull and surrounding sea. And then the whispers came, tickling his ear.
"Bud... baby, where are you?"
"Maggie? Maggie, is that you?" Bud leaned over the rail, searching the black sea. I'm losing it, he thought.
"Bud, my love, please help me." The whispers cooed into his ear.
"Oh God, Maggie, where are you?" Hot tears rolled down his cheeks. He watched a droplet fall into the ocean.
Bud waited. He felt its aura rising. Then the glow, followed by the snout, still hovering below the surface. The jaws opened, revealing blackness. The words came again, tearing at Bud's heart... "Bud, please, I don't want to die."
"MAGGIE!"
The nurse ran in, grabbed his arm.
"Maggie! Maggie, no..." The monster slowly turned, disappearing into blackness. Bud screamed a bloodcurdling howl.
The orderly held him down, the hypodermic releasing its serum. "It's okay, Mr. Harris," the nurse soothed. "It's okay." The orderly strapped him down, bound his wrists and ankles.
Bud fell backward in slow motion onto the Magnate 's deck and watched the sky, helpless, as the gray haze of dawn approached.
* * * * *
Jonas passed out as the sun rose, the birds chirping permission to sleep. The sea was gray, the swells bobbing the AG I up and down along the surf. He saw the swimmer, black hair, almond eyes. It was D.J.
The sub was inverted, no power. Jonas hung suspended upside down, waiting for D.J. to pull him out. He looked down into the mist.
The surreal glow appeared, then the immense mouth, the serrated teeth. She rose slowly. Jonas couldn't move, paralyzed with fear. He glanced at... Terry! Not D.J.. D.J. was dead.
"Terry, get away!" he screamed. She smiled, waving at Jonas. The monster opened its mouth.
"Terry, Nooooo!"
* * * * *
The knock bolted him upright. "Terry?"
Three more knocks.
Jonas rolled off the sofa, spilling the shot of Jack Daniel's onto the carpet. Staggering, he
opened the door.
"Masao." The bright daylight burned into Jonas's eyes.
"Jonas, you look like hell. Let me in."
Jonas stood aside.
"You have coffee?" Masao went into the kitchen.
"Ah, yeah, Mas, um, one of the upper shelves, I think."
Masao made coffee, handed it to Jonas. "Here, drink this, my friend. It's three o'clock. Morning is over."
Jonas shook his head, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "I can't. I'm sorry, Masao, I can't anymore."
"Can't?" Masao Tanaka stood over his friend, eyeball to eyeball. "What can't you do?"
Jonas looked down. "There's been too much death. I can't do this anymore."
Masao sat down. "Jonas, we have a responsibility. I feel it. I know you do as well."
"I've lost my desire to keep chasing this monster." Jonas looked into Tanaka's eyes.
"Hmm." Masao was quiet. "Jonas?"
"Yes, Mas."
"You are familiar with Sun Tzu?"
"No."
"Sun Tzu wrote The Art of War over twenty-five hundred years ago. He said, if you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. But if you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. Do you understand?"
"I don't know, Masao. I can't think right now."
Masao placed his hand on Jonas's shoulder. "Jonas, who knows this creature better than you?"
"Masao, this is different."
Masao shook his head. "The enemy is the enemy." He stood. "But if you will not face our foe, then my daughter will."
Jonas leaped up. "No, Masao. Not Terry!"
"Terry can pilot the AG I. My daughter knows her responsibility. She is not afraid."
