by JE Gurley
All things considered, Josh had had better vacations.
20
Nov. 1, Miss Lucy, Cayman Trench, Caribbean –
Halloween was over, and it would be one Josh would never forget. Instead of a glowing pumpkin, the orange flames of the Pandora disappeared behind them as the freighter vanished beneath the waves. Josh’s back and arms stung from the blast of heat that had enveloped the schooner. His ran his fingers through his singed hair trying to undo tangled knots. Everyone on the Miss Lucy sported assorted cuts, bruises, and burns, but they had survived, all except for poor Odette and Miguel. Josh hoped Odette’s Rastafarian god, Jah, accepted him. He hadn’t known Miguel’s religion, if he had one, but hoped that he found peace in death as well.
The sails were next to useless, peppered by shrapnel and holes burned by the fires. Germaine kept the engine running and took the wheel, eager to place distance between the schooner and the sunken freighter in case any Bristle worms survived the blast. With the ceresiosaurus dead, there was no longer a reason to linger in the area. He set the compass for Jamaica.
Josh tried to console Professor Hicks, who paced the deck with his arms folded behind his back. In the faint light falling across the deck from the cabin door, his small frame appeared even more shrunken. His dreams had died with the sinking of the Pandora.
“I’m sorry about the ceresiosaurus.”
Hicks shrugged, but his dour face did a poor job of concealing his disappointment. “It happens. You were right. It was too dangerous to attempt to capture.” He shook his head slowly side-to-side. “I don’t know what I was thinking. The Andrews is damaged, the freighter and its crew are gone. We barely survived our encounter, though of course two of Germaine’s crew did not. Perhaps it is for the best.”
“A least you won’t have to pay Germaine the bonus,” Josh pointed out, hoping to lighten the professor’s mood.
“True, but I shall still offer him ten thousand dollars, and the original five thousand to his crew and their families. It’s the least I can do.”
Josh thought it was a generous offer. “He’ll appreciate that. What now?”
“I hope we can gain access to the carcasses of the creatures that attacked the Caymans. At least, we can study them and use our findings and your photos to prepare a report for our colleagues.”
“Some good came of it all,” Josh pointed out, trying to ease the professor’s troubled mind. “The captain of the freighter had three of the Russian warheads sealed in a steel vault. They went down with the ship. The submersible crew created a landslide to cover the leaking fourth warhead. Once those mutated creatures die out, no more will be produced.”
Hicks shook his head. “You don’t understand, my son. These creatures were not created overnight. It might have taken decades and many generations of radiation exposure to produce them. Their gigantism will not disappear as long as they have a sustainable food source. They will continue to reproduce and to pass their mutated genes to their progeny. They will remain a problem to the area until they are sought out and destroyed. Many harmless species will pay the price for our stupidity in allowing a nuclear bomb to rest on the ocean floor.”
The professor’s words jolted him out of his self-imposed blindness. He should have known that it wasn’t finished. He had avoided considering the long-term effects, concentrating instead on more immediate survival.
“That’s someone else’s problem,” he said, trying to convince himself of his statement’s validity more than to convince the professor.
Hicks sighed. “Yes, but we must study it.”
“First, let’s get back to Jamaica and then home. I’m ready for some dry land, preferably Texas.”
“Yes, I suppose that is a good idea. I believe the Navy will be good enough to send us some samples.”
Elansky sauntered onto deck wearing shorts and a long sleeve pullover against the chill of the night air. Her muscular legs were well tanned, and her pullover enhanced her large breasts, which Josh was surprised to see were unfettered by a bra. Out of uniform, she looked exquisite, a shapely example of womanhood rather than a cold-blooded killer behind a sniper scope. She carried three drinks in her hands. She handed one the professor.
“This scotch should relax us. I poured a rather liberal two fingers.”
As she handed one to Josh, her hand remained on the glass for a moment after he grasped it, brushing her little finger over his hand. Josh took a sip and smiled. “Thanks.”
Professor Hicks noticed the looks passing between the two of them and said, “If you don’t mind, I will drink mine in the cabin.”
As he strolled off, Elansky leaned against the rail and took a big swig of her drink. “I guess our expedition is over, huh?”
“I suppose so. The ceresiosaurus is dead. The only thing left is to study the dead creatures in a lab.”
She sighed. “Too bad. I kind of liked this mission.”
“Really?” Josh asked, intrigued by her comment.
“I got a tan, met interesting people, and shot monsters. What’s not to like?”
“Interesting people?” he asked.
She moved closer, until the fragrance she wore drifted to his nose. He inhaled her heady aroma. She ran a finger across his bare chest, entangling it in a lock of blond chest hairs. “Well, you’re a couple of years younger than me, but you’re good looking. We click, but I don’t think you will expect us to settle down and get married. That’s not the way I operate.”
Josh’s heart beat a little faster. “If you’re offering to sleep with me, I accept.”
She leaned against him until her hips touched his. He felt a tingle that spread warmth throughout his body. He had tried to avoid intimate contact with her, settling for longing glimpses and daydreams, but she had made it difficult. Now, she was making it impossible.
“Who mentioned sleep?” she whispered.
Josh gulped down his drink, almost choking on the burn as it went down. “You took me by surprise,” he wheezed.
“I’m a sniper, remember. We strike from hiding.”
He took her hand and pulled her toward him, smashing his lips against hers to silence any more reminders of her profession. He wanted to see her as a beautiful woman, not a killer. She responded with more vigor than he expected, pressing him against the rail until the burnished teak buried into his spine. Pain erupted from his burns, but he didn’t mind the minor pain. The pleasure radiating through his body more than made up for any discomfort.
She broke away. “I think you’re as eager as I am.”
“Damned right. Let’s go.”
“Before you do, maybe you’d better see this,” Germaine called out. Cursing Germaine’s timing, he cast a longing glance at Elansky and went to the cabin. Professor Hicks, Bodden and Germaine stood in a group staring at the sonar screen.
“What is it?” he asked, though the sinking feeling in his stomach presaged Germaine’s reply.
“Another large blip on sonar, five clicks out and closing fast.”
The ceresiosaurus. But how?
“How did it escape the freighter? I swore I heard it bellowing from below decks as we were leaving the ship.”
“This blip is bigger.”
“Could it be another school of Bristle worms or Viperfish?”
Germaine shook his head. “Not at this speed. Whatever it is,” he added, “it’s homing in on our engine.”
“Do we dare shut it down?” Hicks asked.
“If we do, we’re dead in the water. The sails are useless and it would take hours to re-rig new ones, if I had spares, which I don’t.”
Josh felt a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe it’s Mama. I guess I get my shot after all.”
Elansky had her rifle in her hand and the explosive tipped shell tucked inside the waistband of her shorts. Her expression was grim, but her voice couldn’t hide her excitement. “How long do we have?” she asked.
Germaine glanced at the scope and made a rapid mental calculation. His face s
crunched up as he arrived at an answer he didn’t like. “If I push the engine, two and half hours, maybe less.”
Elansky nodded. “That puts it here just after dawn. That helps. It makes it easier to take my shot.”
Josh wasn’t as confident of the outcome as she seemed to be. “Can’t we radio the Andrews for a helicopter?”
“The Chinook isn’t armed. Cere ate the other chopper, remember?”
“It could evacuate us.” Josh knew he sounded desperate, but he didn’t want to endure another encounter with giant sea creatures.
Germaine scowled. “I’m not leaving my ship.”
“And I’m not missing my shot,” Elansky added. “It’s why I’m here.”
Josh swallowed to hide his rising anxiety. Was he the only one on the boat that understood the danger? “You can take your shot from the helicopter.”
“Too unstable. The sea is calm enough.” She stared at him. “I won’t miss.”
“I don’t doubt your skill. I doubt the efficacy of the MS-222. The dosage is just a guess. After seeing that thing close up, you might need more than one shot.”
She reached down and caressed the explosive shell. “I’ve got back up.”
“We still have a few hours,” Germaine said. “I suggest you try to get some rest. Things might get a bit hectic at dawn.”
Elansky slipped her hand into his. “I don’t need rest.”
Josh ignored Germaine’s ear-to-ear grin, as she led him down the steps and through the narrow passageway to the first empty cabin they encountered. He knew he stank of sweat, singed hair, and Bristle worm blood and gore, but he didn’t care, and she didn’t seem to mind. She leaned her rifle against the wall and gently laid the explosive shell on a table. She ripped off his shirt while he dropped his pants. Her pullover came off next, revealing the most luscious breasts he had ever seen, melon-sized and firm, with large, dark nipples. As his lips found one, she pushed down her shorts. He wasn’t surprised to see that she wore nothing beneath them.
He picked her up and laid her on the bunk, banging his head on the overhead bunk as he crawled in beside her. The bunk was narrow, forcing them together, but he didn’t mind. There was no foreplay. That had been going on for days. Knowing that they would soon face death stoked their passion to a burning fire. She spread her legs and accepted him into her, groaning as he entered. Their movements quickly synchronized. They moved as one body, one being. Her vigor and strength forced him to summon reserves of strength he didn’t know he had left after his recent trials. He forced the memory of his dead girlfriend from his mind. She had haunted his nights long enough. He would never forget her, but he knew he had to let her go.
He recognized that this was not love, just pure animal passion, as basic and as necessary as breathing. He gave in to the beast within him and let his mind empty of all thoughts except pleasing her. Her fingers raked the tender flesh of his back, but the agony only served to increase his ardor. She flipped him onto his back and rode him like a rodeo bull, lasting much longer than the required eight seconds. They climaxed together, his body going into uncontrollable spasms of pleasure. Her moans became louder until she stiffened and fell on top of him.
After a few moments of heavy breathing, she said, “That was good.”
He nibbled her ear. “I’m glad. You almost killed me.”
She giggled. “I’m not the only one who always makes their shot.”
She snuggled up beside him and laid her arm across his chest, still breathing heavily from the exertion. He didn’t know how far she wanted him to go in their post-coital relationship, so he settled for clasping her hand in his. It seemed the right response. She nibbled his neck and relaxed.
He knew the others had heard her moans of pleasure and probably his as well, but he didn’t care. His desire had been a long time building. They lay entangled for ten pleasant minutes before she stirred. She crawled over him, lingering long enough for a final kiss, and dressed. Their lovemaking session was over. He lay there watching her until she picked up her rifle, tucked the shell back into her shorts, and opened the door. She looked back at him, smiled and said, “I’ll see you on deck.” Then she closed the door behind her.
He decided he needed a shower before dressing. The stream of water ignited his burns into patches of agony, but he used the pain to focus his thoughts. If a larger ceresiosaurus was headed their way, maybe Cere’s mama as Elansky suggested, then the sedative dosage would have to be adjusted. If it were another monster entirely, then they would likely die at dawn like condemned criminals in old Westerns.
All of their plans had been designed for Cere. Now, they were gone out the window. They would have to wing it, and Josh hated uncertainty. Maybe it would be best to allow Elansky to kill the creature rather than attempt to capture it. She would be happy either way, but Professor Hicks would object strongly. His eyes when viewing the sonar scope had reacquired some of their earlier vigor. As much as Josh hated to disappoint his friend and mentor, maybe it was time to look to their survival.
He dressed in clean clothes and boots, forced a comb through his singed hair, and went out on deck. No one had followed Germaine’s advice to rest. He was at the wheel. Hicks still stood by the sonar screen. Bodden leaned against the stern rail of the schooner watching the horizon behind them. Elansky had resumed her position on the forward hatch, her weapon across her lap. Josh wanted to go to her, offer some small talk or a thank you for the sex, but assumed she wanted to concentrate on her job. Since their lives depended on her aim, he wouldn’t interrupt.
He did suggest a higher dosage of MS-222 for the dart projectile.
“It will still be guesswork,” Hicks answered. “Without seeing the creature approaching, we don’t know if it is a ceresiosaurus or some other gargantuan. However, I agree another dart should be readied with a higher dosage, but we might not get a second opportunity.”
Josh thought it was time for his other suggestion. “Maybe it would be safer to simply kill the creature.”
Hick’s expression changed. He once again looked like an old man. “Believe me; I have considered just such an option. I have been so wrong in my assumptions and people have died. I am an old man and I am willing to risk my life. However, it is wrong of me to drag all of you with me. Perhaps, we should take a vote.”
Germaine called everyone to the cabin. When they were gathered, the professor addressed them.
“We face a dangerous creature. Our lives are at risk. If you wish to kill the creature rather than attempt a capture, I will understand. Please offer your vote.”
Germaine spoke first, “I still want that bonus.” He turned to Bodden. “What about you?”
“I’ll follow you,” he answered.
All eyes turned to Elansky. “To me, a shot is a shot, dead or alive, I don’t care, but it seems we can learn more from a live creature than from a dead one.”
Josh knew where Hicks stood. He had been outvoted, so he saw no reason to voice his objections. They would only make him sound more frightened than he was. He nodded. “Very well, it’s decided. We try to capture it.” More softly, he said, “God help us.”
21
Nov. 1, Miss Lucy, Caribbean Sea –
Sleep was out of the question. He was too restless to sit and wait, so Josh paced the deck. He ran several scenarios through his mind, but all of them ended with the Miss Lucy as a pile of debris and everyone on board dead. He had carefully refilled a dart with additional MS-222, and then added ten percent more for good measure. He still doubted the dosage was accurate enough or the sedative effective enough to sedate the creature before it could crush the schooner. Not quite resigned to death, but unable to foresee a long future, he decided to fight the dread threatening to overwhelm him and revert to a more clinical approach to their mission. He wrote down everything he could remember of his journey since arriving on Little Cayman Island, only leaving out his dalliance with Elansky. He took the journal and his cell phone and placed them in a waterproof bag
. He attached one of the floats and laid it on the deck, where it could float free if the schooner sank. Someone, someday, might retrieve the journal and photographic evidence washed up on a beach and then use it to combat the creatures.
Knowing that the last few hours before dawn might be his last on Earth forced Josh to look back on his life, a kind of emotional retrospective. It was becoming apparent to him that he had been using the death of his fiancée to shield him from any future pain. He had withdrawn into the benign world of academia, venturing out of his comfortable shell only to spend a few hours with friends who he could not call close. He had no close friends, other than Professor Hicks. He might add Germaine to that short list. The jury was still out on the captain.
Elansky was symptomatic of his life to date. He found her attractive and desirable, but understood that they had no future together. She wanted nothing more than sex from him, and he was more than willing to oblige. He thought he had feared her, but he had really just been afraid of her rejection. She had her chosen profession, and he had his. So many of his conquests – and he could add them up on one hand – had been short-lived dalliances, fitting into his schedule as he saw fit with no regards to anyone else’s desires. He had been brutally selfish. He had thought he was simply being dedicated. Now, he could see the difference. He only hoped it was not too late to correct.
The steady ping of the sonar became a drone that dug into his subconscious like a steel spike, reminding him of what was to come. He should have known there was no way out for him. He had been drawn into the drama since he had first set foot on Little Cayman Island. His participation was as exorable as Odysseus on the island of Circe. He had no way out, nowhere to run. It was either face his demons or let them overpower him. His failure could mean the deaths of others, perhaps Elansky. She owed him nothing, but he owed her. He steeled himself for the inevitable.
