by Russ Elliott
That’s what he wanted to hear. With a nod, he altered his course slightly to the left.
Kate looked ahead and asked, “So you think the nets will stop it?”
“I don’t know,” replied John, glancing back at the frill, “But if they don’t, the beach will!”
He eased up slightly on the throttle to keep the frill close, hoping the creature would focus solely on the boat’s churning props rather than the rising seafloor.
“Come on. Can’t you go faster?” Kate yelled above the whining engines. “I can see its eyes. They’re less than thirty feet behind the stern.”
“No. Gotta keep it close. Can’t let it lose interest this close to shore.” John used the pier to gauge his distance from the shoreline. As the distant pier became clearer, he could make out the yellow buoys lined across the surface, marking the shark barrier nets. They were about one hundred yards away.
“That’s them, dead ahead!” Kate pointed. “The net isn’t continuous. It’s actually a series of nets spaced apart. So try to go over where the buoys are spaced close together. Don’t want the beast to go between the nets.”
After a nod, John yelled, “Is it still back there?”
Kate’s eyes told John all he needed to know.
~~~
From the crowded Pier 21, dozens of fishermen and spectators adorned with cameras looked up from the chummed waters. As the whining engines of the Sea Ray became louder, all attention shifted to the approaching boat.
“Look! There it is!” shouted a man, raising a camera.
“The boat! Look how close it is to that boat!”
A woman screamed, and several cameras flashed. Everyone along the east side of the pier flooded to the end of the pier. People five rows back pushed forward, eager to get a glimpse. Reporters and tourists jostled for position while struggling to lift their phones, cameras, and camcorders above the heads in front of them. The pier groaned from the weight.
~~~
The string of yellow buoys grew closer in front of them; the pliosaur, behind them. John felt the boat lunge forward from the creature’s rising snout.
Thirty yards . . . twenty . . . ten . . .
Whap!
John felt the string of buoys slide beneath the hull. He glanced back and saw the net bow out as the pliosaur rammed it at full speed. The line of buoys dropped beneath the surface, whirling behind the giant.
~~~
In front of the netted head, the churning props moved farther away. The creature’s left front paddle fin was tangled in the net, forcing it to dive. The sandy bottom came up fast. The startled beast instinctively adjusted its right front paddle fin and lifted its nose.
Huge clouds of sediment shot up as the paddle fins propelled the creature through a long sweeping turn to evade the shallow waters. The massive belly scraped bottom, and its head lifted.
A row of thick pilings appeared before its blazing red eyes.
~~~
Behind the wooden railing, stunned photographers and onlookers fought to maintain their footing from the sudden jolt. Water spewed over the rail. The pier trembled, thick pilings and planks moaning.
Searching for the source of the jolt, an elderly fisherman looked down from the end of the pier. The slow-circling shark fins suddenly knifed through the surface, scattering in every direction. Then, as his eyes followed the pointed cameras past the east side rail, he saw the enormous netted frill swaying beside the pier.
~~~
Nearing the shoreline, John looked back, expecting to find the pliosaur tangled in the shallows. But the waters were clear. He slowed the boat, searching.
“Over there!” Kate shouted.
John turned to where Kate was pointing. Seventy-five yards away, he saw the enormous netted head jammed beneath the pier. Like distant fireflies, cameras twinkled from the end of the pier, while eighteen feet below, the water came to life.
Every thrash sent spray shooting above the crowd.
John rested a hand on the throttle, waiting, wondering whether to go in to shore or approach the pier. Another piling burst. Two more. He couldn’t believe people weren’t running like hell for shore to get off the pier. The tangled creature thrust its head sideways. Another piling gave way, collapsing the pier’s east corner. He saw the crowd stumbling, finally moving back while the corner of the pier dangled down toward the water.
John hit the throttle and banked away from the shoreline. He knew all too well what this thing could do to a pier. “We’ve gotta go back. If anyone falls in, they won’t have a chance with all the sharks in the area.”
“Okay. I think we’ll be okay.” Kate nervously watched the tangled creature. “Don’t think he’s going anywhere. Looks like he’s jammed in there pretty good. Right?”
John didn’t respond, just headed toward the pier. As they neared, Kate stood and scanned the water around the pier. “That’s weird! Looks like all the sharks scurried off . . . probably because of the pliosaur. Can’t say I blame them.”
John eased off the throttle. He guided the boat around a sweeping rear paddle fin and moved closer to the pier. The idling engines became muted by the churning water. The deck started to rock. He looked up at the swaying frill, amazed by the sheer power being exerted by the thrashing giant just forty feet away. Spray kicked up by a front paddle fin fell over him in a fine mist.
Idling closer, a giant left eye turned toward the boat. The red orb locked on John, and the beast froze. Then the netted head twisted furiously, trying to rip through the maze of pilings.
It’s furious it can’t reach me, John thought. Then a thunderous bellow from the creature shook the pier as if in response. Oh yeah, it’s pissed. Kate took a step back and her voice shook. “I-I saw that thing looking at you. I mean, it was like he was looking at you, John.” She nodded rapidly. “Earlier when you said the creature had it in for you . . . you might have been on to something.”
John ran to the stern, waving to get everyone’s attention. “Get off the pier.” Kate joined in as they desperately tried to convince everyone to clear the area. Clearly, no one understood how much damage was going on beneath them.
But the cameras continued to roll.
~~~
Frank Baumann, a photographer from the Durban Sun, acknowledged the boat’s presence. Cupping a hand beside his fluffy beard, he yelled down to the driver. “Hey, mate, pull it in a little closer to the tail, will ya? I need to get the boat into frame to give it scale!”
Behind the photographer, the frenzied crowd stepped back as the pier’s dangling corner collapsed and crashed down onto the surface. The photographer stepped toward the missing corner, looking down through the hole. Eighteen feet below lay the stony, tiger-striped back. For the moment, the entangled giant lay still beneath the surface, soulless red eyes peering up through the net.
The water settled.
A hush fell over the crowd as everyone stopped, listening. Was the beast finished or merely gathering its strength? Two more photographers stepped closer to the opening. Waves rolled across the armor-plated back while murmurs spread through the crowd.
At a squat two-hundred-sixty pounds, Frank was no lightweight, and the unruly crowd let him know it. “Hey, wide load!” yelled someone. “Pull it over so the rest of us can see!”
Ignoring the crowd, Frank stepped closer to the edge. “Just one more shot.”
More photographers followed suit. A myriad of flashes went off, which ignited the creature. The nose thrashed suddenly, kicking water up through the opening, splashing his lens. Another bellow shook the pier. A loud snap. Another snap, then a crack. The pier quaked, and the splintering sound of pilings bursting could be heard.
Behind Frank, planks buckled and split. A gap appeared, separating the end of the pier from the rest. The end of the pier collapsed, dangling down toward the top of the creature’s head. Screams spread through the backing crowd. Frank wheeled and dove over the widening crack. Tossing his camera, he fell onto the slanted surface. His f
ingers clawed across the wood and the front of his shirt pulled up under his chin until he caught onto a gap between the planks.
He watched the crowd above pull two other men up onto the stable section of pier, keeping them from sharing his fate. Another loud snap . . . and he was weightless.
Freefalling with the crumbling section of the pier, the photographer splashed down in front of the creature’s snout. Large planks and fragments of wood rained down alongside him.
Beneath the surface, Frank saw only a layer of net separating him from the cavernous mouth and shimmering, spiked teeth. Desperately, he kicked off from the monster’s nose, but his foot slipped through the net and became entangled.
The pliosaur thrashed, pulling Frank back and forth beneath the surface. The man frantically twisted his foot trying to kick free. Suddenly, the creature plunged its head straight down, pulling the photographer twenty feet below the surface, ligaments and tendons ripping in his ankle.
His lungs filled with water. Frank was on the verge of blacking out when he felt his ankle snap. The jolt of pain seemed to waken him, and he slipped his ankle from the net. He swam up through the churning waters. He broke the surface, gasping. The blessed sound of a roaring engine filled his thankful ears.
~~~
John carefully guided the boat backward, closer to the end of the pier. His right hand ready to slam the vessel into forward gear if the creature showed any sign of loosening. He watched Kate lean farther over the transom. “That’s it,” she yelled back at him. “Almost got him!”
The pliosaur suddenly rolled beneath the pier. A massive paddle fin scooped up from the surface, throwing a wave over the speedboat.
The surge of water pushed Kate back, away from Frank’s reaching arm. The desperate hand slipped beneath the waves. Thirty feet away, the leviathan twisted violently to free more of its body from the net. It’s massive flank hurled into a piling. The wooden column snapped, sending its jagged end into the pliosaur’s side. The beast released a bellowing roar.
Kate plunged her hand back into the water as the photographer latched onto her arm. But instead of bringing him up, the big man was pulling her in. Kate screamed.
John saw Kate’s feet lift from the deck. He leapt at the stern, grabbing Kate by the waist and pulling her back. The boat rocked violently from the creature’s desperate attempts to free itself. The photographer’s shoulders rose above the surface–and he hooked his free arm over the transom. The stern bucked, and John lost his grip. Kate flew in the air again, heading for the water. John lunged for her, again catching her, but not before they both splashed into the water behind the photographer.
~~~
One hand gripping the transom, the photographer managed to grab Kate by the shirt. He did not see John.
~~~
After tumbling through the waters, John finally surfaced, gasping for air, and wiping water from his eyes. He looked around, saw Kate safely inside the boat now with the photographer. Treading water, he glanced back at the pier. Most of the monster was still tangled in the net, but a free front paddle fin was pumping madly to reach him. The creature inched its way closer, blood billowing up from its side.
And that didn’t cover all John’s woes. Kate was screaming from the back of the boat, pointing, screaming, pointing. So was the photographer. He looked up at the pier. So was everyone. He looked behind him.
Two gray fins were speeding toward him. Just as soon as he noticed them, several more fins sliced through the surface, closing in from every angle.
I’m surrounded!
He saw the terror in Kate’s expression—that beautiful face. Not wanting her to witness the inevitable, he dropped beneath the surface. Ahead, he saw two torpedo-shaped heads shooting through the red-clouded waters. Behind him, the prehistoric jaws moved in closer.
~~~
“GOD NOOO!” Kate screamed from the boat, burying her face in her hands.
~~~
Below the waves, John watched the first great white zero in on him, jaws spreading in that terrifying tooth-filled grin. Unbelievably, the shark missed, its passing pectoral fin slashing across John’s ribs. A streak of blood rose from his side. He quickly lifted his feet as another massive great white sailed beneath him. Not a bite. Didn’t even notice me! John watched in disbelief as the sharks continued to pass him—only to barrel straight into the pliosaur’s open wound, mouths open wide.
John swam to the surface. Like speeding torpedoes, huge great whites flashed by him. The creature’s giant head lurched above the water, his roars continuing to give weight to the air.
He shook his head, slapped his ears. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, these man-eaters flying past him, the creature injured . . . it was all surreal. And Kate . . .
~~~
When he came back to reality, he was laying on the deck of the Sea Ray, Kate crying and tugging at his shirt—and that God-awful roar. He quickly sat up and kissed Kate without any explanation or ado on the forehead, then scrambled on his knees to the side of the boat and looked toward the pier.
His eyes were locked on the water beneath the pier. Kate and the photographer were now on either side of him, following his gaze. Two more fins sliced through the water and closed in on the pliosaur as it struggled to free itself from beneath the pier. It was being picked and prodded as it struggled for freedom. And then it seemed to have had enough.
Taking on a defensive posture, the giant head swept in front of an approaching great white. A red smear shot to the surface. With a sideways chomp of the pliosaur’s jaws, all that remained of the scavenger was seven feet of gray flesh and a twitching tail.
No sooner than the severed shark fell to the depths, another white shark sank its jaws into the leviathan’s flank, then another swooped in to disable an enormous front paddle fin. Water from the thrashing beasts rose twenty feet into the air. People screamed. The giant roared. Even the sea seemed to cry out. The battle of the predators was in full swing, and everyone was watching.
Navigating the turbulent water, another frenzied shark ventured too close to the enormous mouth. In the blink of an eye, the pliosaur caught the creature in its jaws and threw it clear of the surface. Spiraling thirty feet through the air, the eighteen-hundred-pound shark crashed onto the crowded pier. Spectators scattered as the shark rolled across the pier, snapping its jaws at those nearby, while blood spewed from its missing tail.
At the stern of his boat, John stood motionless, staring at the spectacle before him.
Beneath the churning waters at the end of the pier, swirling clouds of blood rose from the tangled giant. Another thrash sent more of the net clear from the vast body, but the rear paddle fins remained snared. In a violent spasm, the pliosaur rolled in a final attempt to free itself. A rear paddle fin broke free.
Then, like a wounded bison covered by a pack of wolves, the pliosaur slowly swam out from beneath the pier while frenzied sharks gorged on its flesh from all sides.
The giant frill disappeared beneath the waves. In an awesome display of power, the great creature catapulted from the surface, thrashing in midair. Clinging sharks were thrown clear of the giant’s back as it rolled, then plunged beneath the surface, sending an enormous wave over the speedboat, over everything.
Incredible.
With its bleeding back clear of sharks, the pliosaur headed back into the sea, away from beneath the pier. John reached for the throttle, watching as the tremendous creature drew closer. “What I wouldn’t give for one more depth charge!”
“Wait,” Kate said. “I don’t think you’ll need it.” A streak of spray kicked up from a passing fin. Another gray blur flashed from beneath the hull and headed toward the pier. Two more, three more fins sliced through the water as sharks swarmed back in on the wounded giant from all directions.
The colossal head lifted, swaying above the sea. It twisted in mid-air and slammed down across the backs of two white sharks. Another shark zeroed in on the pliosaur’s submerged head. As the creature a
pproached, the giant thrust its snout upward, rammed the shark beneath its jaws, and hurled it toward the surface.
John, Kate, and the photographer ducked as the great white burst from the sea. Flipping thirty feet into the air like a dolphin, the shark crashed down beside the speedboat, showering them with water.
The pliosaur handled the first few easy enough–but they just kept coming.
John moved his hand off the throttle, unable to take his eyes from the spectacle before him. Seagulls swooped down in front of the boat, circling above the turbulent waters as fifty tons of muscle thrashed beneath the surface.
Like fireworks, cameras flashed from the pier, silhouetting the great head as it rose above the waves again. The vast mouth hung in the air, streaks of red-stained water cascading down from its giant, spiked teeth.
The jaws stretched wider.
John felt the vibration before he heard the sound. A haunting groan swelled from within the beast. It rose until a primal roar muted the thrashing waves, echoing out across an ocean the creature once ruled without mercy.
And then silently, the colossal head rolled back into the sea.
Chapter 20
TWENTY MOONS LATER
As the sun slowly faded behind the island, evenly spaced torches marked the perimeter of the lagoon. A pulsating drumbeat drifted on the ocean wind. A small tribesman stood alone at the edge of the dock area looking out over the sea. Beside him, the enormous gated doors were spread open, reaching into the abyss.
Across from Onue, on the opposite side of the doorway, two men continued to shake hoop rattles from the dock, chopping the water’s surface. They had worked in shifts, night and day, never letting the vibrations cease.
With great honor, Onue followed the instructions Kota had left with him before leaving for the mainland. After twenty moons had passed, and Kota still had not returned, he knew it was time to begin. For the last three days he had slaughtered a cow every evening and left the carcass in the shallows. He would continue this ritual until his vow to Kota was fulfilled.
