“A shark,” Bruce said with a look of fear as he looked out to sea.
Zander exhaled loudly. “I just said there are no killer sharks in these waters.” He hated landlubbers with a predilection for melodrama with regard to anything about the sea. Jaws had a lot to answer for.
“I saw him get attacked,” the woman squealed. “Please, you’ve got to help him.”
Zander looked out to sea, but couldn’t see anything. “You’re sure he’s out there?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
The children started to cry louder as their mother raised her voice. This was crazy. Zander knew there was nothing out there. The only explanation was that a strong current had dragged him under, or he had a cramp and had been unable to swim. Whatever it was, there was no sign of him.
The woman’s incessant crying was starting to jar on his nerves. Zander tugged off his jumper and T-shirt to reveal a physique sculpted by hard toil.
Bruce looked pensive. “I’ll stay here and take care of the woman and her kids.”
Zander clucked his tongue and removed his boots. Then he charged into the sea.
The water was colder than it looked, but Zander ignored it as he put his head under the surface and swam powerfully away from the shore. The saltwater reduced his vision, like looking through warped glass. The sandy bottom dropped away quickly and darkness resided below. Tangles of seaweed drifted by, but Zander couldn’t see anyone. When he was far enough out, he dived down into the depths and swam around, trying his best to find the missing man, but as he didn’t know where he had gone down, it seemed useless. With his breath almost spent, he struck out for the surface and trod water for a while to catch his breath. He looked back at the beach; saw he had swum quite a way out.
He bobbed up and down as the sea rolled. When he was at the top of one swell, he noticed what looked like a dark patch on the surface of the water about twenty feet away. With a couple of powerful strokes, he swam towards the area. As soon as he reached the spot, he recognised the dark patch, had seen plenty of examples when throwing the remains of gutted fish back into the sea: blood. He could literally taste it in the air.
He took a deep breath, then dived back into the depths. The blood made it even harder to see so he used his hands to sweep through the water, searching for the woman’s husband.
A sudden movement caught his eye and he turned his head and tried to focus. Five feet below him, something dark surged through the water and disappeared. Without any concern for his own safety, he swam down, entering a world where there was virtually no light. Sweeping his arms back and forth, he searched the area, but couldn’t feel anything. Pressure built inside his chest and his ears felt ready to pop. About to give up, he felt the water swirl around him as something swam close by, and for the first time, he realised that something really had attacked the woman’s husband, and that now it was circling him.
Panic welled through his body, and his pulse increased. He could hear the throb of his heart pounding in his ears. With no idea how deep he had descended, he started his ascent, frantically scooping the water with his hands and kicking his feet as though the devil himself were after him.
He felt strange currents swirl around his naked torso; thought he felt something brush against his leg. He needed to breathe. Light permeated the depths. But it was a reddish light, filtered through the blood suspended in the water like a huge, undulating jellyfish. Uneasy, Zander swam through the blood and surged to the surface where he gulped in a deep breath. He wiped the saltwater from his eyes; saw a thin film of blood coating his skin.
Without hesitating, he made for shore, arms and legs aching by the time he was able to stand and wade onto the beach. He stood with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath.
“Where’s Clive?” the woman shrieked.
Zander looked up, breathing fast. He shook his head.
The woman screamed, but Zander didn’t pay her any attention. He stood up straight, put his hands on his hips, and turned and looked out to sea. If a killer shark prowled the waters, then it would explain the shortage of fish, and it might also explain the incident with the nets.
Now he had a job to do. It was time to go fishing.
Chapter 10
“So you didn’t see anything?”
Bruce looked at the young police officer and shook his head. Shazam stood at his side, her hackles up and her ears cocked as she looked out to sea.
The officer made a couple of notes. “And you said Trent Zander went in search of …” he perused his notes, “Gaynor Dunn’s husband, Clive?”
“Yes, he swam out and looked for him.” Bruce stared across at Zander who stood at the edge of the water looking out to sea. “He came back a few minutes later.”
“And he didn’t find anything?”
“Nothing that he mentioned. But …”
“But what, Mr. Holden?”
“Well, when he came out the water, he was, I don’t know, pale. It was like he’d seen a ghost or something.”
The flashing lights of the ambulance washed over the sand to his side, and Bruce gazed across at Gaynor Dunn as the ambulance men helped her into their vehicle. She was in shock, which wasn’t surprising. She had just lost her husband, and those poor children, a father.
He twisted the wedding band on his finger and stared up at the cliffs where the silhouette of Lillian Brown, the madwoman he had discovered in his house, was discernible against the blue sky. He shivered. What the hell was she staring at? Perhaps moving here hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
He realised the police officer was speaking to him. “Sorry, could you say that again.”
“I said, will you be able to come to the station to give a statement?”
Bruce nodded. “Yes, sure. No problem.” An irrational fear struck him, fear for his son’s safety. He had been in bed when Bruce left the house, but that had been a couple of hours ago. Unlike Bruce, Jack was at home in the water, and he had mentioned only the other night how he was going to go swimming at the first opportunity.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go,” Bruce said.
The police officer looked at him for a couple of seconds and then nodded. “Just don’t forget to call in at the station.”
“Come on, Shazam.” Bruce jogged quickly back up the beach to the road. Shazam bounded along at his side. He stared up at the cliffs, but Lillian Brown was no longer in sight. He didn’t know whether her absence made him feel better or worse.
When he reached the house, he ran inside and called Jack’s name. Upon receiving no reply, he ran upstairs to Jack’s bedroom, only to find it deserted, the sheets tossed on the ground and the clothes he had been wearing the previous day missing.
Bruce knew it was taking a risk phoning Jack on his mobile, as the wrath of a son who feels he’s being spied on wasn’t worth thinking about, but Bruce felt anxious. The phone rang a number of times before the automated voice of the woman at the message centre cut in to tell him the person was unavailable. Bruce disconnected the call without leaving a message. He was just being paranoid.
But what if he wasn’t? What if Jack had decided today of all days to go swimming?
Today when there was something ravenous swimming in the depths. Something with a taste for flesh.
Chapter 11
Erin McVey stood on the diving platform of the research vessel and donned her dry suit. A slight wind tussled her hair. She pulled her hood up. Her diving buddy, Kevin James, went through the safety checks on her equipment, then she reciprocated, making herself familiar with his releases, confirming that he had ample air for the dive, that the valves were open, and that the regulator and alternative air sources worked. On a final inspection, she checked for out of place equipment, dangling gauges and missing gear. Their lives depended on making sure everything was okay.
She had been diving here with Kev for the last three weeks, taking samples of the local sea life. What had surprised her was the lack of fish. Usually they f
litted from the depths, bright shoals in the glare of the Dive Light, but since she had been here, she had spotted only a few solitary specimens.
She tested her regulator, which made her recall her first diving experience and the alien feel of breathing underwater. Unlike one person on her diving course, she hadn’t panicked, but it still took a couple of days to get used to. Now it was second nature, and sometimes preferable to being on the surface.
Erin had fine-tuned her buoyancy after eighteen dives–for some people it took a lot longer. At depth, she had to add air to the suit to stop it becoming uncomfortably tight. The downside was it added buoyancy, so she’d had to learn to manage the air via an exhaust valve.
She strapped the five-inch titanium dive knife to her leg.
Satisfied all the safety checks were complete, she picked up her mask, gave a thumbs up to the crew on deck, then stepped back to the edge of the platform and dropped into the water.
Kev dropped in beside her. He’d chosen not to wear a hood and his black hair hung in the water around his face like tentacles.
“You ready?” Kev asked.
Erin smiled. “Always ready.”
“What about willing and able?”
“Now that’s something you’ll never find out.”
“Your loss.”
She grinned. “I’ll live.” She spat in her mask and then swilled it in the water to stop it fogging up before donning it.
Finally ready, she inserted her regulator, gave Kev the thumbs up and dived.
She followed the guide rope leading down from the platform. The water was a murky green colour, and after less than 20 feet, she switched on her dive light, illuminating tiny plankton in the beam.
Erin and her team had been assigned to determine the effects of exploratory and development drilling, exploring the impact on the environment, especially which hazards and environmental issues had to be considered when planning to drill in a specific location.
Not all of her work took place out in the field, but it was where she was happiest. Being stuck in an office didn’t suit her, and after a few days she would start to feel like a mermaid out of water.
When she reached the seabed, she spotted a brightly coloured sea slug rippling across the rocks and an alien looking spider crab skittering into a crevice. The sight of the various undersea denizens never failed to amaze her. She’d once read that although three-quarters of the earth is liquid, only one-tenth of one percent of the ocean had been explored, and every time she dived, she felt she was entering an uncharted realm.
Shining her light across the seabed, she marvelled at the various colours reflected back. She could see Kev at her side, specimen bag at the ready, and she indicated the direction they should swim.
Erin felt truly liberated underwater; felt it was the closest a person could come to flying.
Up ahead she knew there was a steep drop off. Swimming over it made her feel vertiginous and disorientated, as though she were over an abyss. The drop off was almost at the limits of how deep she could go, so she didn’t intend going too close.
The seabed slowly shelved down, and the deeper Erin swam, the less visibility she had. Despite the layers of thermal clothing, she could still feel the cold permeating through to her bones. Within her suit, she shivered.
As she swam, her thoughts drifted. She recalled the man she had met a couple of hours ago, Bruce Holden, and a warm thrill swept through her body. Although he was older than she was, she had fancied him straight away. His charismatic look appealed to her. She had never dated anyone with kids before–had never had a maternal streak–but in Bruce’s case, she could make an exception.
Remembering the woman’s scream, she wondered whether they had found the reason behind it. Perhaps she should have gone to help, but work came first.
She made a gradual descent, adding air to her suit to combat the pressure of the water while also keeping an eye on the depth gauge. If she descended too fast, she would suffer the same kind of ear popping experienced going up in a plane, which could be painful. When she reached the depth she required, she wanted to be in a neutrally buoyant state. Achieving that state meant she would sink a little when she exhaled and float a little when she inhaled.
One thing she didn’t want to do was contact any solid objects. Contacting the substrate would stir up sediment, reduce visibility and damage the organisms that lived on the surfaces.
Kev appeared at her side. He indicated to her that he was moving away to look at something. Erin acknowledged his signal and watched him swim into the inky blackness. Almost out of sight, she could see a dim corona of light from his dive lamp, almost ghostly in the depths like the bioluminescence emitted by a host of marine animals.
Movement caught her eye. Expecting to see a fish, she turned her head, but there was nothing there. She shone the light around, following the course of its beam, but couldn’t see anything. About to shine her light back on the path she was taking, she saw something caught in the beam. Situated at the limits of the light’s reach, it appeared to absorb the light. Erin frowned.
About to swim over and investigate, she saw a flash of light to her left. She recognised it as Kev’s flashlight beam. But there was something strange about the way it was moving, as though it was being waved frantically.
A strange sense of panic swept over her. She could feel the beat of her heart increase, could feel a thin layer of sweat glaze her body. Something wasn’t right.
She watched the beam of light zigzag through the ocean. Kev was heading towards the drop off. She could see that he was already much deeper than she was. What the hell was he playing at?
Fighting the sense of dread, she started to swim towards him. Something moved in the blackness to her right, creating currents of water that made the plankton swirl in the beam. She swept the light around–thought for a moment she saw something large dart away. It looked too large to have been one of the many fish supposed to swim these waters. But if it wasn’t, then what was it? A porpoise perhaps? Or a seal?
She noticed Kev’s light had stopped moving. Relieved, she started swimming towards him.
Erin glanced at her depth gauge. She was at the absolute safe limits of her dive. Kev was at least another ten feet lower. It wasn’t like him to do something so hazardous. He knew the dangers of going too deep. At this depth, it could be fatal. If they stayed down too long and too deep, they risked the bends, a painful condition caused by nitrogen bubbles in the blood.
She swam closer to Kev, regulating the air in her suit as she went. From the look of it, he was on the lip of the drop off. The thought of the great depths below where he sat made her feel nauseous. Or was it something else making her feel ill? The pressure?
She shone her light towards him, trying to attract his attention. But he didn’t respond. Still unable to see him clearly, she descended deeper. She looked at her depth gauge. There had better be a damn good reason for this, she thought.
Close enough now to see him clearly, she thought her eyes were playing tricks. He looked to be buried in the seabed. All she could see was one of his shoulders, his head, and one hand holding the light, the beam of which pointed down into the depths.
Strong currents rose from the drop off, making Kev’s hair undulate like tentacles. Erin shuddered. Something wasn’t right. The substrate had been disturbed. A pale cloud drifted around his torso. She swam closer; her beam of light illuminated a thin red veil wafting gently around his shoulder. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see clearly.
When she reached Kev, Erin reached out and tapped him on the shoulder. He didn’t respond. Her mind whirled with questions. Fear circulated around her body. She grabbed his wrist and pulled.
And Kev’s severed torso gently rose from the substrate, leaving behind a thin red cloud of blood that swirled in the currents rising from the depths.
Erin’s eyes went wide. She gagged and the regulator flew from between her lips. Bubbles streamed from her mouth as she tried to scream in the wate
r. She gurgled, almost choked. Frantic, she let go of Kev and searched for her regulator, sweeping her arm around in the growing gloom of blood and substrate.
Something moved in the darkness below the drop off. Erin gagged again. She floundered in the water. Where was that damn regulator? Her hands brushed against it, and she grabbed it and reinserted it between her lips; took a welcome breath.
She looked back at Kev’s body. Ragged strips of flesh waved in the water from his severed torso.
She watched Kev’s severed body fall over the edge of the drop off and descend into the depths. The beam of his lamp spiralled down, creating a macabre red swirling vortex as it illuminated the blood.
Crazy thoughts fought for dominance in her mind. How the hell had he died? What the fuck was down here that could bite a man in two? And more importantly, where was it now?
She spun around, pointing her light in all directions.
Erin felt totally alone. Panic swelled in her chest, aggravating her breathing. She willed her pulse to slow, fought not to lose control.
The beam illuminated something black that swam quickly out of sight. But from what she had seen, it had been big, very big. The blood froze in her veins.
Calm yourself girl, she thought. The surface is a long way up.
She considered an emergency ascent, but rising too quickly from such a great depth would result in the bends. So what else could she do?
She remembered the object she had seen at the limits of the light’s beam before Kev had distracted her. It occurred to her that it was a vessel of some sort.
Although she needed to get to the surface, she wanted to gather her wits. If she could hide for a little while, then maybe whatever was circling would swim away. Swimming faster than she had ever swum before, Erin kicked out into the cold water.
Something flitted about to her left. She flashed the light at it, saw two huge malevolent quicksilver eyes reflected in the darkness. Her heart leaped into her throat, but before she could identify it, the creature vanished into the depths.
Fangtooth Page 5
