by Hunter Shea
She was right. Removing an orca from a tank required getting them in a sling that was attached to a heavy-duty crane. Depending on the size of the orca, it could take up to a dozen people to perform the delicate maneuver.
“Three of us?” Chet said. “There’s no way you’re getting in that water.”
The water was dyed pink and filled with shredded bits of people. Chet couldn’t even imagine himself getting in there. Not without deep psychological scarring that no therapist could ever fix.
The sound of a diesel engine firing up startled them. Ivan must have gotten into the cab of the crane and was bringing it to the tank.
“I want to check the medical pool before he gets here,” Chet said.
“It can’t be worse than this,” Rosario said. “We just have to keep our distance.”
Medical pools didn’t have all of the safety glass that was supposed to be a barrier between the orcas and their handlers. They were designed for personnel to have direct access to the orca. The Marine Paradise medical pool didn’t have any raised viewing area. If Sumar was affected the same as the other two, and the scream they’d heard earlier was an indication that she was, they would have to be extremely careful.
Chet noticed that Rosario kept her eyes up and in front, careful not to view the human remains at their feet as they slowly made their way to the medical pool.
Lunch at the tapas bar seemed as if it had happened in another lifetime. The food and beer in Chet’s stomach had gone sour, turning to acid.
He made sure to keep Rosario behind him when they turned the corner to the medical pool. What he saw robbed the breath from his lungs.
Rosario edged around him, her hand flying to her mouth, instantly sobbing.
It was worse. Far worse.
Chapter Five
Sumar had given birth to her calf.
At least partially.
The dead orca was half in, half out of its mother. Sumar swam in tight circles, turning the tank into a whirlpool. In the center of the pool were the remains of two people, minus their heads.
“Jesus,” Rosario muttered.
Chet’s stomach burned at the sight of the flopping calf. He wished to hell Ivan had left him with the rifle so he could settle Sumar down and extract the calf. If things stayed like this for long, there could be significant damage to the mother.
He gripped the railing in front of him and rubbed his eyes.
It was too late to help Sumar or Katerina and Nootka. Once word got out, they would have to be euthanized. It pained Chet to even think about it, no matter what the orcas had done. Because he knew this wasn’t them. Something else was happening here. Whether it was some kind of natural or manmade toxin that had affected the orcas at the same time, he couldn’t be sure. Whatever it was, it had taken control of their massive bodies and poisoned their minds, gotten them to do things they would never normally do.
It was why Ivan was doing everything he could to tranquilize them. He knew how this would have to end, but he could damn well choose the way it ended. Death by drowning was not a fitting end for the trio of orcas. Better that they put them to sleep painlessly and with some level of dignity.
“No one will understand why,” he said aloud.
“Why what?”
He guided Rosario away from the medical pool. There was nothing they could do, nothing more to see.
“We have a long night ahead of us,” he said, slumping against a wall.
“How could this happen?”
Rosario’s hands quivered as she pushed her hair back.
“I…I don’t know. What could drive three healthy orcas utterly mad at the same time? It makes no sense,” Chet said.
“They’re going to have to be put down, aren’t they?”
“Yes, and quickly. Once the police arrive and see what they’ve done, they’ll be ordering us to step aside so they can shoot them.”
As if on cue, he heard the approaching bleat of sirens.
He pushed away from the wall, feeling some strength return to his legs. “Come on, let’s see what we can do to help Ivan.”
The crane was at the edge of the performance tank. Ivan had commandeered seven men from the staff. Only one of them was dressed in an orca trainer’s uniform. Chet wondered if she was the only one left alive, or if the others had run for their lives.
A tangle of black wet suits had been thrown on the bloody ground.
Chet came up to Ivan and said, “Where’s the rifle?”
“In the cab.”
“How many darts you got?”
“Enough for Sumar.” Ivan’s jaws clenched and unclenched, the hinges popping from the pressure.
“I’ll do it,” Chet said. “By the time we get Katerina and Nootka out, she’ll be ready.”
“Make it quick. I need you in the water here.”
“I’ll be right back,” Chet said to Rosario, kissing her forehead. He ran to the cab of the crane, grabbed the rifle and case of tranquilizer darts Ivan had left on the floor.
Ivan barked orders to the nervous men and women as they struggled to get into the wetsuits. Chet was horrified to see Rosario stripping down to her underwear, a wetsuit by her feet.
“You’re not going in there,” Chet hissed.
When she looked up at him, there was a steely look of determination in her hazel eyes. “The hell I’m not. They need me. Most of these people work the concession stands.”
Chet pulled her close so the others couldn’t hear.
“There’s no way to tell if the orcas are truly out of it. If they wake up while you’re in the water, nothing can save you.”
She slipped her foot into the wetsuit. “That’s where you’re wrong. I have you. Now go take care of Sumar so you can get in with me.”
There was no time to plead his case against her decision. Plus, she was right. While Ivan operated the crane, the others would need someone who had done this before to guide the orcas into the sling.
“Don’t go in until I get back,” Chet said.
“Promise.”
Chet had to fight the blur of tears as he shot three tranquilizer darts into Sumar. The sight of the lifeless calf broke his heart. He did it quickly, knowing he had to get back to Rosario. When he was done, he let the rifle slip from his fingers. It clattered on the concrete floor.
Just about everyone was in the soup of death that passed for water. Rosario stood at the edge, waiting for him. There was no time to don a wetsuit. He took her hand and they jumped in, careful to keep their mouths tightly closed.
“Fuck, it’s cold,” Chet said, his muscles seizing for a terrifying moment.
Ivan lowered the massive sling into the water. Chet took control, telling people how to line up around Katerina. He almost gave a loud thanks to God when she didn’t awake at their touch. The whole time they worked to guide her into the sling, he kept stealing glances at Nootka. At the first sign of the orca coming to, he was going to shout at everyone to get the hell out of the tank.
Chet, and everyone else, also had to fight the urge to vomit as he waded through strands of viscera. When a half-eaten foot tapped him on the cheek, he had to bite his tongue hard enough to draw blood in order to hold back his scream.
He couldn’t help thinking they were in Satan’s wading pool, wondering if the demonic beast next to them was going to awaken and devour them.
Katerina was successfully removed. Ivan set her down on the ground and they worked hard to roll her free from the sling. They had all jumped back into the tank to get Nootka when a swarm of police and first responders spilled into the main attraction area of the marine park.
The look of horror and revulsion on their faces would stick with Chet for a long, long time.
“We could use some help here,” Chet said. When no one responded, much less moved, the woman next to him repeated his request in Spanish. Two members of the ambulance corps set their stretcher aside, as there would be no need for it, and got into the tank. A police officer followed suit, with the trainer tra
nslating for Chet. It was much easier getting Nootka out of the tank.
When they went to the medical pool to get Sumar, everyone stopped. The sight of the calf still partially in its mother’s womb took their breath away.
Now that the water was no longer churning, Chet looked for the heads of the two trainers. They were most likely in Sumar’s belly.
“We have to do this quickly. She’s turning onto her side,” Chet said.
Rosario was the first to break the group paralysis, jumping into the bloody pool.
Sumar’s blowhole was close to being under water. Once that happened, she would start to drown.
The medical pool had one advantage over the attraction pool – a floor that could be elevated. They wouldn’t need the crane to get Sumar out. All they had to do while Ivan started the floor was keep Sumar’s blowhole clear.
Mercifully, it didn’t take long. Most of the volunteers dropped to their asses and knees, shaking with exhaustion and repulsion.
There was no time for Chet to rest. “Rosario, you think you can help me?”
Her eyes were glassy as she gazed into the distance. She blinked hard and nodded. “I’ve never done this before.”
Chet said, “Not many people have.”
Ivan had removed his shirt, the cords of his neck and chest strained from the tension that held him in its grip. A loop of sturdy rope was draped over his shoulder.
“I’ll tie this around the calf. The three of us should be able to pull it free.”
Chet helped Ivan secure the rope, the infant orca’s flesh ice cold to the touch.
Ivan turned to Rosario. “You ever play tug of war?”
“Of course.”
“This is the same thing, except losing is not an option.”
Chet, Ivan and Rosario dug their heels as best they could on the slippery ground and pulled. At first, the calf didn’t move. Ivan grunted, letting out a scream of rage and frustration that almost made Chet drop the rope.
“Come on you son of a bitch!” Ivan wailed.
He wasn’t angry at the orca, though Chet was sure that’s what everyone that surrounded them supposed. He was mad as hell at whatever pestilence had descended on his beloved orcas, and feeling helpless at the loss of so many precious human lives.
The policeman who had helped them in the tank got a handhold on the rope.
“Pull!” Ivan shouted.
The muscles in Chet’s arms burned and quivered. He pulled so hard, spots danced before his eyes.
Something gave way, and suddenly they were on their asses. Chet watched the calf slide out of its mother, riding a tide of gushing fluids. Rosario scrambled to get to her feet and away from the incoming tide.
All Chet could do was lay still, too tired to rise above the swill of afterbirth.
Chapter Six
Marine Paradise had gone from a place of spectacle and wonder to a crime scene that had captured Spain’s full attention. News was spreading fast, and within hours of freeing the calf from Sumar, the entire world was aghast with the level of violence that had claimed the lives of the orcas and seven park workers.
Chet and Rosario were questioned by police for the better part of an hour. Someone had brought them cups of coffee as they sat in one of the spectator seats wrapped in fresh towels. Chet didn’t think coffee could ever taste this good. The caffeine jolt brought him back from the living dead.
Ivan came storming over to them with a gaggle of police at his heels. They were saying something to him in Spanish but he wasn’t paying them any mind.
“What’s going on now?” Chet said.
Rosario shrugged. “Sorry, you’re dating the one Puerto Rican who can’t speak Spanish.” She leaned her head onto his shoulder.
“Are you going to assist my marine tech?” Ivan said. His gaze cut like lasers. He should be exhausted, but he looked refreshed and ready to take on the world. Where was he finding the stamina?
“Of course,” Chet said.
“She’ll be here in a few minutes, if she can get through this madness. Be ready when I call for you.”
Chet stared at his empty coffee cup. “Please and thank you.”
Ivan’s eye twitched and he took off toward Katerina, the police still in tow.
“That was fast,” Rosario said.
“Ivan has a Marine Autopsy Technician on staff. I wonder if they’ll be able to get through the police barricade.”
“I’m sure Ivan will find a way. I’d hate to be the person to tell him no…for anything.”
“His bark is worse than his bite.” He crushed the cup and dropped it beneath the plastic seat. “Scratch that. His bite is pretty nasty.”
“Have you ever done a whale autopsy before?”
“A handful of times. They’re not pleasant.”
“It can’t be any messier than all this,” she said, gesturing toward the main tank. Police photographers were taking pictures of bodies and body parts, little yellow flags everywhere. A plastic tarp had been draped over the remains of the trainer who’d had her legs bitten off.
Even though they had stepped under the cold shower beside the medical pool, Chet could still smell the pungent odor of blood and entrails on his skin. It had sunk into his pores. He worried that he’d never be rid of it.
Rosario checked her watch. “I think we’re going to miss our dinner reservation.”
“We’re going to miss a lot of things. I’m sorry it turned out like this.”
She laced her fingers between his and kissed his hand. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s not like you knew this was going to happen. Who in their right mind would? Besides, I got to see you be a hero…again.”
“I wouldn’t call that being a hero.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit. Trust me, most men would have turned tail and run or frozen.”
They rubbed noses. It wasn’t a romantic gesture, they were too worn out for that. But it felt good to be close, to be touching. Chet said, “You’re not so bad yourself, diving right into that tank.”
“I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to forget that.”
The heat of the afternoon sun had given way to a dull orange glow and cooling sea breeze. They heard Ivan shout above the din, “We need lights!”
While they waited for the marine tech, Chet and Rosario watched the police wheel in an array of metal halide light carts. They were set up around the two tanks. Chet knew that when it got dark, the moment those lights were turned on, it would be brighter than the noonday sun.
His body was starting to stiffen up from sitting around. He got to his feet and stretched, his muscles feeling as if he’d spent ten hours in a gym. His neck, back and knees cracked.
“We’re going to need a couples’ massage before we head back home,” Rosario said, taking his cue and shaking the weariness from her limbs.
“Make that a couple of couples’ massages.”
Ivan had found his shirt and tied his hair back with a rubber band. He stepped to the wall separating the seats from the main stage and crooked a finger at Chet.
“Duty calls,” Chet said. “Look, why don’t you go back to the hotel and try to get some sleep? This is going to take a while.”
“I’ll rest when you rest. Until then, you’re going to show me how this whole autopsy thing works.”
They made their way toward Ivan. “I don’t suppose there’s any way I can talk you out of this?” Chet said to her.
“Nope.”
“I didn’t think so.”
They stepped over the low barricade, Ivan lending a hand to help Rosario, proving he had a bit of a gentleman lurking within.
“My tech is already with Sumar,” Ivan said. “I’ll take you to her.”
They had to tread carefully through the police and crime scene markers.
Chet said, “Ivan, how did all of this start?”
“I wasn’t here to see it, but from what I can tell, the orcas went crazy all at once, right when the second show
of the day began. One second they were leaping for the rings suspended above the tank, the next, they turned on my people. Someone said it looked like the attack had been planned.”
“Planned? They hunt in coordinated packs in the wild, but I can’t see them plotting out a…a revolt like this ahead of time, then knowing exactly when and how to strike. Sumar was in the medical pool. When did she start up?”
“The same exact moment.”
Ivan’s tone implied he didn’t want to talk about it further. When they arrived at the medical pool, an attractive blonde woman was kneeling by the calf. Several black bags were secured to a handcart.
“This is Raquel Suarez. Raquel, this is Chet Clarke, the marine biologist from the States. And…and…”
“Rosario Benitez, Chet’s assistant,” Rosario said, extending a hand.
Raquel was young, under thirty, with sharp features and ice blue eyes that shone from behind a pair of pink-framed eyeglasses. She shook Rosario’s hand, then Chet’s. Her grip was firm to the point of painful.
“I believe we met once before,” Raquel said to Chet. “Was it at that conference in Norway?”
That had been three years ago and Chet had been a paid speaker. He’d met so many people his brain went on name and face overload.
“Oh yes, I thought you looked familiar,” Chet said.
The marine tech flashed a quick smile and pushed her glasses against the bridge of her nose. “I guess we’ll get started,” Raquel said with just a slight Spanish accent. She went about opening the cases containing the necessary tools.
Rosario whispered, “You have no idea who she is.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Painfully.”
Ivan shouted at someone to turn on the lights beside the medical pool. Chet had to shield his eyes when they snapped on.
“We’ll start with the calf,” Raquel stated matter-of-factly, holding a scalpel the size of Chet’s forearm.
“You sure you want to watch this?” Chet asked Rosario.
“No. But I’m staying just the same.”
They watched Raquel cut deep into the calf’s torso. After being surrounded by so much carnage, the smell didn’t even make Chet flinch.
