Hotel Megalodon: A Deep Sea Thriller

by Rick Chesler

  Damn!

  She tried the full reverse maneuver again with the same results: the craft went backwards, but to the right, into the wall. Coco cursed softly under her breath. This was not good. Not good at all. Left thruster’s toast.

  Then, for the first time since she began piloting subs, which wasn’t all that long ago, she felt the sensation of fear. What if I can’t get this thing to the surface? There was no way to simply open the dome hatch while at depth—the water pressure was too great. She did have a radio link to Topside operations in the hotel and on the island compound, but Jesus. She was supposed to start taking guests on rides in this thing tomorrow!

  Something darker played on her fears as well. What was that thing that caused this? What if it comes back for me?

  Coco forced herself to slow her breathing before attempting to maneuver the sub again. She looked back through the rear of the dome, but couldn’t see anything in the suspended sand cloud. Activating the right thruster only, she brought the craft away from the coral wall and into open water. She looked over toward the reef, but it was too cloudy to make anything out. She eyed the dash-mounted compass. West, good. She knew the hotel lie in that direction.

  With one thruster out, she had to propel the sub forward in a zigzag pattern, first left, then right, then left again. It worked, though, and before too long she was meandering through the familiar coral formations of the hotel’s reef. She looked back through the dome over the seat backs, but saw nothing pursuing her. Then the outline of the sub’s floating dock structure came into view, and she forgot about whatever she had seen, and focused on maneuvering her craft. Docking the sub with only one thruster would not be easy. She took it slow, guiding the vehicle through the underwater gate that indicated she would surface in the middle of the floating dock.

  She raised the sub vertically until water sheeted off the top of the dome, and brilliant sunlight flooded the cabin. As usual, Mick Wright’s grinning face was there to greet her, framed by a head of shaggy hair as he secured the sub in place with ropes, unlatched the dome hatch, and flipped it back. Coco breathed in the fresh air she always found so refreshing after the stale, dry, recycled air of the sub.

  “Hey, what happened? Left thruster’s bent to Hell! Big ding on the body, too!”

  Coco climbed out of the sub and gave him a sheepish grin. She started to respond but Mick held a hand up.

  “Save it. Here comes the big cheese. You’re going to have to explain it him, anyway.”

  Coco cringed as she looked over to see a man striding purposefully out along the pier. He wasn’t just their boss. He was everyone’s boss, the owner of Triton Undersea Resort, L.L.C.

  “Wonderful. How long you think this will take to fix?”

  Mick looked at the ruined thruster and shook his head. “Not by tomorrow.”

  The hotel’s owner walked up to his two employees, beaming.

  “So how are we looking for tomorrow?”

  Chapter 2

  Coco Keahi smiled at James White, the Australian property developer who had designed the Triton Undersea Resort and had it built. The big cheese, as Mick called him. No reason not to be polite. She had considered not mentioning the damage to the sub unless Mr. White called attention to it, but Mick’s estimate of time to repair had put an end to that little fantasy. Guests would be arriving tomorrow, the sub would not be in operational condition, and it was her fault. Great. Gonna lose my job already.

  James White’s hair was gray, but whenever he was outside, he kept it covered by a wide-brimmed white hat. He wore a casual Tommy Bahama outfit of shorts, sandals, and a button-down aloha-style shirt that featured the hotel’s logo: TUR, with the “T” in the shape of a trident. He removed his designer sunglasses to address Coco, a sign he wanted to be taken seriously.

  “Coco? Tomorrow? Are we ready? Need I remind you that a good chunk of Hollywood’s A-list is flying in as we speak, not to mention heads of state, sports stars, sports team owners...people we need to impress? How are we doing?” He glanced down at the sub, and his expression brightened. “They’re going to love going for rides in this thing!”

  She’d been glancing over at the sub, and then Mick, to see if he might have any last-minute respite for her, like Oh, got a small thruster problem, but no worries, mate, it’ll be fixed in a jiffy, couple hours tops. But Mick only shrugged a little as he returned her stare.

  Coco cleared her throat while Mick pretended to be busy tethering the sub to the dock cleats. “I’m ready, Mr., White, but unfortunately, the submersible requires repairs to one of the thrusters. Mick tells me—“

  White’s expression darkened. “What? Can’t that wait? This is not the time to be performing maintenance. We need our best foot forward starting tomorrow!”

  Coco took a deep breath. “I realize that, Mr. White, but unfortunately, this is not routine maintenance, it’s a serious repair that Mick estimates will take...” She turned her head in his direction as she trailed off.

  “I think I can have it working tip-top by this time tomorrow.” His voice and demeanor didn’t exactly exude confidence.

  White’s face reddened. “This time tomorrow!”

  He glanced at his Rolex, and then scowled at Coco. “We are supposed to be fully operational starting tomorrow morning! That includes all of our vehicles, especially the submarine, of which we only have one. What the hell happened?”

  Coco relayed to him the events of her dive. As she spoke, White’s face became even redder, his eyes narrowing. “Sounds like pilot error to me. So this is your fault!”

  Coco was taken aback at such a direct accusation from someone whom she had known only a short period of time. But it’s true, isn’t it? Still...

  “Like I said, sir, there was something down there that interfered with the sub.”

  “What, the bottom of the reef? I guess so! Smash up the thruster, did you?” He eyed the damaged propeller assembly. Then he added, “You were up late at the staff party last night, weren’t you? Have a little too much to drink?”

  “No, sir. I did not hit the bottom of the reef, and I didn’t have too much to drink last night.” The sound of her voice came out sharper than she had intended. White glared at her while she continued.

  “I saw something, something that hit the sub.”

  For a moment there was only the sound of sea birds cawing and faraway voices as White and Mick looked at the sub pilot.

  “Saw what?” their boss asked.

  The image of the...eye—was that really what it was?—flashed inside her skull. “I—I’m not sure.”

  “Oh, Christ!” Clearly White was unsympathetic.

  “No, really, I...I saw something big, moving.”

  “Well, you’re the marine biologist. What the hell was it?”

  There was an awkward hesitation during which White crossed his arms.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “What do you mean, you’re not sure?”

  Coco blocked out the stares of the two men on her, and closed her eyes while she replayed a mental image of her sub dive. The black orb...the massive slab of a body...the speed and agility...Suddenly her memories were replaced with an image from years ago, during her studies. A biology textbook showing illustrations of extinct sea creatures. A prehistoric shark. Of course, that’s not what she had seen. But then she eyed the nick on the sub’s dome left by the thing’s...tooth? She didn’t want to call attention to any more damage on the sub, but she felt like she’d rather be believed than dismissed as an incompetent pilot.

  “I’m not sure exactly what kind of shark it was, sir. But I do think it was a shark.” Maybe he’ll just believe me, and I won’t have to show him the dome damage.

  “What kind of damage can these little reef sharks we have here do to that three-ton submarine?” He glanced at the underwater craft. Coco moved closer to it.

  “Here, let me show you.” She stepped onto one of the sub’s pontoons, and knelt in front of the dome bubble. White appeared irrit
ated, checking his cell phone while he glanced up at her, but he remained standing on the dock. She traced her finger along the smooth acrylic surface until she found the indentation created by the impact during her encounter.

  “Here, take a close look at this.”

  White frowned, but stepped onto the bobbing craft and knelt beside Coco, squinting at the clear dome, while Mick looked on from the dock. A triangular dent marred the otherwise smooth surface.

  “Oh, come on!” White bellowed. “Smack dab in the middle of the viewing area! The whole dome will have to be replaced—but not until after opening weekend,” he added, shooting Mick a stern glance. He nodded in return.

  “Look.” Coco placed a manicured fingernail next to the gouge. “See that bit of white in it?”

  Her boss craned his neck in for a closer look. “What of it?”

  “It’s a tooth fragment.”

  “The hell it is!”

  “Seriously.”

  White looked over at Mick. “So a little reef shark had enough force to bury that fragment in a quarter inch of acrylic? Really?” He guffawed as if expecting Mick to do the same. The marine mechanic gave a smile, but remained silent.

  “That’s only a small piece of the tooth, sir.” Coco dug a fingernail into the crevice and extracted the bone-white chip. “See, just the very tip.”

  White leaned in to examine the extracted object, and then quickly withdrew. “That’s ridiculous. If that’s only the very tip then the tooth would be like six inches long. You take me for some kind of fool?”

  Coco blushed with the acerbity of his retort. “Not at all, sir. I’m just—“

  “I’ll tell you what you’re just doing,” White cut her off. “You’re just making damn sure that something like this never happens again with my sub, or you’re fired. You got that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m docking your pay every day this sub isn’t in service. And you—“he pointed a finger at Mick. “You had better have this thing fully operational by tomorrow. If you need to pay to have parts same-day air freighted in here, then do it. Hear me?”

  “Loud and clear, sir. Don’t worry, I’ll patch her up.”

  White chuckled to himself as he huffed off down the dock. “Don’t worry, right. Whole damn world’s going to be watching this place starting tomorrow, but don’t worry.” He raised his voice as he stepped off the dock onto the beach, turned around, and called out, “You better worry! That’s what I’m paying you to do!” Then he strode toward the complex of support buildings.

  Coco exhaled a heavy sigh. “That went well.”

  Mick smiled. “Sorry I couldn’t back you up more, but really, I have no idea how I’m going to fix this up by the end of the day tomorrow, much less by the morning.” He eyed the sub dubiously. “I better go see about ordering those parts. See you tonight for dinner?”

  “Yeah, sounds good,” Coco said absent-mindedly while Mick trotted off the dock toward the office buildings.

  She stood there turning over the small tooth tip in her fingers, her mind once again recalling the pages of that textbook and the drawing of the extinct shark, the name of which slowly surfaced in her mind as if rising from the deep like the beast itself, rising through the vast sea of geological time, great eras of time so vast they were incomprehensible to any human. The letters took shape in her consciousness, washing a chill across her body like water pushed ahead of something very large...

  Carcharadon megalodon.

  Coco pressed her pointer finger into the tooth to test the sharpness, and a small bead of blood appeared on the pad of her fingertip.

  Chapter 3

  James White gritted his teeth as he strode down the palm-studded footpath that wound along his resort’s powdery white beach. The translucent pods of the underwater hotel beckoned beneath the surface of the calm lagoon. The tranquil scene did little to calm his nerves, however, as he stared out at what he had created. The most luxurious underwater hotel on the planet. Not merely a tank or habitat on the sea bottom that one had to scuba dive in and out of like some kind of inner space astronaut, but a full-scale hospitality operation with multiple suites and common areas including a lobby, gym, restaurant, even a night club, all accessible via submerged train tunnel without the guests ever feeling so much as a drop of water on their bodies.

  For well over a decade, detractors had berated him as little more than a reckless dreamer, gambling other people’s funds on his own personal pipedream. But tomorrow morning, in just a few hours, the first guests would arrive! The seemingly endless years of planning and red tape to see the project to completion were about to finally come to fruition. The nonstop rounds of pitch sessions to wealthy investors, all of whom were skeptical that White could really make such an outlandish architectural project work. Eventually he had convinced them all to invest staggering sums of money, the likes of which White himself would never have access to without them.

  Now, it all came down to this grand opening weekend. If the list of high profile guests left raving about their new experience, White would be on the road to profitability, and to paying back his angel investors. His reputation as one of the world’s premiere developers would be cemented.

  To that end, everything should be ready. The grounds on the island were immaculate. Transport from the airport was arranged, the pier was ready for those arriving via mega-yacht, and the hotel itself was ready to go. All supplies fully stocked, staff prepped. Sure, the submersible was out of commission for a little while, but that was an extra perk, not the kind of thing most guests would want to avail themselves of the first thing upon arrival. They’d want to take in the sheer splendor of it all, the uniqueness. Nevertheless, something gnawed at his consciousness.

  He began to stroll again as he considered it. He’d always done his best thinking while walking. At the end of the beach a winding footpath transitioned into a lush garden area that was meant to look like a wild rain forest but, of course it, was carefully manicured. He wound his way past breadfruit trees, ferns, and a colorful riot of flowering plants while Coco’s words nagged at him.

  I saw something big, moving.

  He’d brushed her off, but what if she was right? A handcrafted wooden sign with arrows indicated the resort’s Dolphin Lagoon was straight ahead, while the Main Lodge was off somewhere to the right. He continued straight. Dolphins...What was the problem there? Oh right, he thought, brushing a bird of paradise flower out of his face, one was missing. He’d asked them to inspect the lagoon gates and the fencing. Better stop in and check on that now. Swimming with the dolphins was a favorite guest activity, even more so than the submarine rides. He kept walking until he emerged on a calm, natural lagoon fronting a rocky section of coastline.

  A lithe female trainer in a one-piece swimsuit with a whistle around her neck knelt on a floating dock. Before her, four dolphins were lined up, heads sticking out of the water like soldiers at attention. The trainer stood when she saw White approach. She gave the dolphins a hand signal, and instantly they dispersed, racing off into the lagoon for free play. James walked out on to the dock as the trainer brushed long stands of blond hair from her face.

  “Good afternoon, Clarissa. Tomorrow’s the big day! How’re we doing?”

  He could tell the smile she offered was forced. “The show is ready, and the dolphins we have are ready, but that’s just it...”

  “Still have one missing?”

  “Calusa’s still missing, but now so are two more—CJ and Max!”

  White glanced over at the fencing on the lagoon’s perimeter that kept other ocean creatures out. He knew it didn’t really keep the dolphins in—they could jump over it if they really wanted, but their family was here, their easy meal ticket was here, so they stayed. In fact, during severe weather such as a cyclone, the plan was to let the dolphins out so that they wouldn’t be trapped in the lagoon when the storm surge hit. Then, after the storm, they would swim back home. They’d always come back before.

  �
��How long have they been gone?”

  “Calusa going on three days now, CJ and Max, one day.”

  “Any guess as to why? Something happen?”

  Clarissa shook her head, a look of embarrassment taking shape on her delicate features. It was her responsibility to know these dolphins. They were her charges, her friends, even. She felt terrible. “Not yet. My staff is aware of it, Tommy and Matt are out in the Zodiac looking for them right now.”

  “But what’s causing it, Clarissa? We can’t keep having the dolphins escaping. You know how those animal rights groups are, they’ll say they don’t like it here, they’re meant to be out there...” He waved an arm out at the open ocean.

  “I don’t know, I...” She trailed off, gazing out at the sea.

  “What is it?”

  “I really have no idea why they left, but I did notice that all of the dolphins, not just those three, have been acting a little skittish lately. Oh...” Clarissa looked over at the far corner of the lagoon. “There was a rip in the fence over there, but the guys fixed it this afternoon.”

  “You think the missing ones took advantage of the opening, and decided to take a vacation?”

  She appeared doubtful. “They can jump over any time they want.”

  White eyeballed his Rolex. “You can still put on the shows though, right, and do the swims with the animals you have?”

  Clarissa twinged a bit at the use of the word “animals,” as though her precious dolphins were nothing special. “I can, yes, but—“

  “All I need to know!” He turned on a heel to walk away, but then spun back around as though suddenly remembering something. “Do me a favor, would you?” He continued without waiting for her response. “Make no mention of the missing animals to the guests. No public announcements during the shows about how many dolphins we usually have or anything like that, okay?” He raised his eyebrows for emphasis.