by David Wood
Joaquin rewound to the start and then hit play. The picture was a hectic blur for a moment as Laine swept the camera left and right, then turned it to his face. He was grinning widely. ‘Sorry!’ he mouthed, then the view blurred again as he put on the headgear. He moved out onto the dive platform and dropped into the water, powered up a DPV and its headlight split the gloom.
“That son of a bitch took some of my best gear!” Holloway said.
“How many DPVs do we have?” Aston asked.
“Three. Well, two now! Honestly, can none of you bastards be trusted?”
Aston turned angrily. “Hey, keep your bullshit temper under control, will you! We don’t actually know what happened to Gazsi or Dave, and Laine is your pick for local expert. Don’t go accusing us all of dishonesty.”
“And your little visit to the police?” Holloway asked, his eyebrows high in challenge.
“Just let it go!” Slater snapped. “Bickering among ourselves isn’t going to help anything. Let’s watch and see what happened.”
Aston returned his attention to the screen, though anger still roiled in his gut. How was he going to make it through this without putting Holloway in his place? He calmed himself with more thoughts of post-expedition life.
On the screen, Laine headed down into the channel, clearly a fairly experienced diver. But Aston wondered just how experienced and whether the man was ready for the currents and eddies that were likely in the confines ahead. Rock walls rose on either side as the cryptozoologist went in, the view panning left and right as he looked around. His movements were quick and jerky, as if he were nervous. After what they’d seen the day before, Aston couldn’t blame him. A couple of times the view fritzed and blurred, but quickly the signal returned strong and clear.
“Those remote transmitters are temperamental,” Joaquin muttered. “Hopefully it wasn’t static just because the thing failed.”
“Why else would it have gone to static?” Slater asked, but nobody had an answer for her.
Eyes remained locked on the screen. It took a long time, but eventually Laine’s view showed the vertical side tunnel. Laine angled upward and his momentum increased as he used the DPV to power into it.
“Damn fool’s heading for the lair,” Holloway muttered.
“Of course he is,” Slater said. “Where else did you expect him to go?” She left unsaid that the lair was precisely where Holloway had wanted Aston to search.
After another couple of minutes, Laine’s camera broke the surface, the vision regularly flickering in and out. He shined a flashlight into the wide cave. The sweep of light caught a few smooth, rounded objects very briefly before something dark and solid swept past, obliterating the view. The vision blacked and returned several times rapidly, almost strobing, then there was light and bubbles and silt, then the camera tumbled end over end a few times, a stream of air bubbles spiraling past, before it cut and the screen turned to static.
Joaquin hit fast-forward. Nothing. “That’s it,” he said as he clicked and dragged the mouse, advancing the image in great chunks of time.” It’s nothing but static for hours.” He looked to the others who stood in contemplative silence.
“The monster. She was in there and she ate him,” Holloway said. His voice carried an edge of satisfaction that Aston found disturbing.
“We don’t know that,” Aston said. “We didn’t actually see the creature or what happened to Laine. It could just be an equipment malfunction. Or he might have knocked the camera off against rock and lost it down the shaft.”
“But he’s not back is he?” Holloway said.
“What time did he leave?” Aston asked Joaquin. “Is the video timestamped?”
Joaquin checked. “Yes. Turned to static at three-fifteen.”
Aston nodded. “Just under three hours ago. If we assume Laine was still attached to that camera when it fell back down the passageway, then he’s still underwater. There’s no way his air would have lasted until now.”
“Or he’s in the belly of the beast,” Holloway said. “Either way, I think it’s a safe bet the fool is dead.”
“Or trapped up in the lair, hiding,” Aston suggested.
“Could he have gotten out and then had second thoughts about returning?” Slater’s words of hope rang hollow. Laine had made it clear he planned on returning once he’d had a crack at finding the monster. There was no reason for him to change his mind in the middle of the dive.
“I have to say, this makes me think twice about making the dive ourselves,” Aston said to Slater. “There’s not much room for error down there.”
“You have to go. The time is now,” Holloway said. “We know where the creature is. This might be our only chance. You need to go down there and deploy remote cameras around the cave and in the passage below it. We must capture definitive footage of the creature and identify it. Anything less and we’ll be dismissed as crackpot monster hunters, just like all the rest.”
Aston shook his head. Holloway had just declared Laine to be breakfast for the lake monster, and now he wanted to serve Aston and Slater as brunch? “There are other ways to do that now we know where the thing goes. And we have the footage from yesterday—”
“Not good enough!” Holloway barked, his face reddening. “Besides, we don’t have time. Bad weather is coming in and that damn policeman is about to shut us down. Which is mostly down to you! You go now or this expedition is technically unfinished. And you don’t get one penny if you don’t finish the expedition. It’s in your contract.”
Aston stared, dumbfounded. “Are you serious? You’re blackmailing me into this after what happened to Laine?”
Holloway was unmoved. “Do you want to get paid or not?”
Slater shook her head and waved her hands. “Time out, guys. Time out. This is getting ridiculous. We can all walk away right now, come back later when the bad weather’s passed. In the meantime, we can mollify Rinne and get ourselves better organized. That creature’s not going anywhere.”
“It happens now, or no one gets paid,” Holloway said.
“Another man has died!” Slater yelled.
Holloway took a step toward her, menacing, his face redder than ever. “Now, or no one gets paid,” he repeated. “I won’t be moved on this, so don’t waste your breath.”
Slater refused to back away from him, her face twisted in fury. “Fine. You think everything is about money? It’s not. I can come back here with another film crew, with different funding. You don’t own this footage.”
“I knew it!” Holloway said. “You’ve been planning something on the side, haven’t you?”
“You’re nuts,” Slater said. “I’m just reminding you that no matter how much money you have, no matter how many people you pay to kiss your ass, you don’t own me. I don’t need you.”
“I do,” Aston said quietly.
“What?” Slater’s anger tracked to him.
Aston hung his head. “I’m sorry, Jo, but I need his money. I’m in real trouble without it, and I’m out of time. I’ll go on my own. There’s no need for you to put yourself in danger.”
Holloway grinned like a cat with a mouse. “I guess you’d better go and suit up.”
Slater stared hard at Aston. “You and I need to have a long conversation.”
“When I get back,” he said.
She tossed her head and rested her fists on her hips. “When we get back.”
He pointed at the static-filled screen. “Didn’t you see what happened down there? You don’t have to come. I won’t let you come!”
Slater laughed. “You don’t own me any more than he does, swim-boy! I’m coming with you. You’re part of my documentary and if you go, I go. It would make for a pretty weak film to end it here. If it continues now, it continues with me.”
Aston held her eye for a moment, but her cold resolve was obvious. He sh
ook his head and stalked away, furious at himself for the trouble he was in with Chang. If it wasn’t for those debts he’d still be cruising on a small research grant in Queensland.
Chapter 29
The moment Aston hit the water his worries dissolved. The cool, dark lake was a soothing balm for his jangled nerves, the silence a welcome change from the incessant bickering that had plagued the team. He allowed himself to float there for a moment, welcoming the brief respite from the topside world, ignoring for a moment that it would all return after this dive was finished. Assuming, of course, they didn’t end up snacks for a prehistoric predator.
Slater hit the water a few feet away. She kicked her flippered feet, slowly turning about, until she spotted him. He gave her a reluctant thumbs-up. She returned the signal and together they dove.
They had foregone the DPVs, trading a measure of speed for the ability to move in near-silence, and to potentially hide in small spaces. Each carried a dive bag with two remote cameras they would secure as close to the suspected lair as possible, even in it if they could. Once the cameras were in place and operational, they would return to the ship and wait, hoping the elusive creature would show itself in all its glory. The images they’d captured of it so far were compelling but not enough to offer definitive proof, at least by the standards of the scientific community, that a primordial creature, one believed to be long-extinct, still lived somewhere in Lake Kaarme.
Aston swam with powerful strokes, propelling his body down through the murky depths. Slater kept pace, swimming a few feet back off his right shoulder, a handheld underwater camera trained ahead of her. They descended into the channel, the blanket of darkness drawing over them. With it came a deep sense of trepidation. The story of the creature had first seemed an absurdity, and even after they’d gathered a few clues, it still seemed, at most, a remote possibility. Now that it was, to Aston’s mind, a reality, this mission seemed foolhardy, even reckless.
Just keep your wits about you. You’ve faced danger before and always come out all right. The thought echoed in his mind and he clung to it like a talisman as they left the channel and plunged into the dark passageway.
The light from his headlamp added a dull glow to his surroundings, illuminating a few feet ahead. Slater moved in beside him, adding the light from her own lamp. There wasn’t much to see, nothing the VUE hadn’t already revealed, so he swam harder, wanting nothing more than to get this over with and the two of them back to safety.
The current ran steadily in their faces, making their passage more difficult but also carrying away any silt they inadvertently stirred up. After several minutes of hard swimming, Aston enjoyed the familiar burn of exertion. It was a welcome feeling after so much time spent gazing at video screens and digital displays. He glanced over his shoulder to see if Slater was flagging at all, but she was keeping pace. The woman was hardly the stereotypical soft television personality. Perhaps when this was all over he’d have the chance to find out what other surprises she had in store.
As they approached the vertical passageway that led up to the lair, Aston’s heart began to race. What, if anything, would they find there? He wished he had more in the way of a weapon than the knife strapped to his thigh, but what could he possibly carry that would make any difference against a prehistoric beast of such massive size? If the creature’s hide was half as tough as he thought it might be, even a high-powered spear gun wouldn’t deal the thing any serious damage.
Slater tapped him on the arm and he turned his head in her direction. She pointed to the bag secured to her hip, then at the wall, and then held her palms up. Her meaning was clear – might as well start planting the cameras.
Aston nodded. Here, the camera would likely pick up a decent signal, it was close to the entrance to the lair, and the way was narrow enough that if the creature swam through, they ought to capture a lovely image of its smiling face.
Working quickly, he took one of her cameras and secured it into a fold of rock. Slater moved back to film the process. He turned it on, checked the signal, then waved a hand in front of it. A ring of white LEDs around its edge flared into life, triggered by movement. In the pitch dark of the tunnel, the small circle of lights illuminated the space like a flash bulb. They moved away, paused, and the lights blinked out again without further motion to activate the sensors. Aston gave a thumbs up and they were on their way again. He planted another camera at the spot where the passageway began its steep upward ascent, checked it and confirmed the signal was strong. He had half-hoped they’d get no signal at all, thus making a swim up to the beast’s purported home unnecessary, but if the VUE could send back images from up there, so could these cameras. Besides, Holloway expected them to make a visual inspection of the space. Perhaps, he had suggested, they might find a tooth or claw – something that could be studied and provide solid proof.
Aston turned to Slater, held up his hands, fingers spread, and pointed down. Wait here. She replied with an upraised middle finger and a shake of the head. He didn’t bother to argue.
Heart in his throat, he led the way up toward their destination. He swam hard, eager to get it over with. The darkness and creeping sense of peril quickly leached away the serenity that came with the dive, and his senses were on high alert. He realized he was breathing far too rapidly and would exhaust his air supply if he didn’t calm down. He needed to settle himself. Three slow, deep breaths, and he was close to normal again.
Finally, the entrance to the lair loomed ahead. Aston’s gut twisted in a knot at the sight of the circle of blackness. This was it. If the beast were lurking there, they could be done for. He suddenly found several religions and sent up prayers to God, Jesus, Vishnu, Poseidon, and one to Neil DeGrasse Tyson, just to be a smartass, as he passed into the widening tunnel.
Slater paused and pointed, so he positioned a camera not far from the water’s surface above. It was a good spot and would capture anything breaking in from the cavern. Aston took a steadying breath and swam upward.
He broke the surface and looked around, his head on a swivel. As his headlamp swept cold, hard rock his heart hammered, so loudly he was sure the sound would draw the monster to him. But he saw only dark, cold rock. The domed ceiling rose about fifteen feet above his head, and a wide ledge ran around one side of the open space, disappearing into darkness. He breathed a sigh of relief. There was no monster.
He set to work, hauling himself up the side wall to balance on one knee and wedge the last camera in a narrow crevice, aiming it down so it could take in most of the cavern floor immediately at the water’s edge. The space beyond seemed huge, disappearing into shadows his headlamp couldn’t penetrate and he was reluctant to stick around any longer than necessary to look. Time flowed like cold molasses as he secured the camera, turned in on, and checked the signal and movement sensor light. The cave lit up and the signal read twenty per cent. It would do.
A flash of movement drew his eyes back toward the water. His stomach lurched when he saw Slater thrashing about in the light from the last camera he had placed, held fast by unseen hands, her headlamp carving hectically back and forth under the surface. He had been so intent on getting into the cave and out again that he hadn’t checked she was still with him. He dropped and powered toward her, swimming for all he was worth.
As he drew close, relief washed through him as he spotted the problem—one of her fins had wedged in a jagged crack in the stone. Slater, too panicked to see what held her fast, kicked and batted at the rock that gripped her. Aston grabbed her arms, pinned them to her sides, and slowly nodded. You’re all right. When she stopped fighting, he hastily worked her free. He pointed to the way out, but she shook her head vigorously, gestured upwards. She needed a moment to gather herself perhaps.
When they broke the surface in the cavern next to the rocky shelf, Slater spat out her regulator and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Oh my God. I thought… I thoug
ht it had…” she sobbed.
“I know,” he said, stroking the back of her head with one hand while grabbing on to the rock with the other. “It’s all right.”
“I made an ass of myself.” Her voice still trembled, but she was already regaining her composure, taking deep, steadying breaths.
“This place has me spooked,” Aston said. “I should have paid more attention, I’m sorry.” He jabbed a thumb back over his shoulder. “This must be where the VUE surfaced before. I set a camera up over there, so we’re good to go, I think. Let’s just…” He broke off when he felt Slater go rigid. “What is it?”
Her gasping reply scarcely reached his ears. “Bones.”
He slowly turned his head. On the opposite side of the rock shelf to where he had climbed before, far back under a large overhang, were piles of animal and human skeletons. Cloaked in gloom, they stood out as stark white sculptures as Slater slowly panned her light back and forth. His own flashlight picked them out even more clearly. Aston realized the VUE had briefly shown the smooth round objects that he now realized were skulls.
They floated there, frozen by the macabre scene. Finally, Slater let go of his neck. “I have to get some pictures of this.” She raised the small video camera, her free hand on the ledge to boost herself up.
“Jo, don’t!” He snatched the camera away and pressed a finger to her lips. “Listen,” he whispered.
A stray sound had caught his attention. As they listened, it came again. The heavy, wet slap of something hitting solid rock. Something big, far back in the cave.
Slater’s eyes bulged and her jaw dropped.
Go, he mouthed.
Biting down on his regulator, he sank beneath the surface and swam for it, Slater right beside him. He kept glancing back, each time fearing he’d see a dark shadow or a gaping maw closing in behind.
He’d always prided himself on having a high panic threshold. No matter how dire the circumstances he was the one who kept his wits about him. Those limits were tested now in their desperate flight toward safety. They were still side by side as they reached the swirling maelstrom of currents where the main passage passed the vertical shaft and they kicked hard into it, heading back for the lake.
