by Michael Bray
“I’m not lying.”
“You didn’t see shit. Your mind was playing tricks on you. All you saw was a wave, a big one and something in your head has concocted this sea monster story.”
“You saw it too, didn’t you?”
Mackay broke eye contact, and started to walk away.
“I didn’t see anything.”
“You did,” Rainwater pressed, grabbing Mackay by the shoulder and spinning him around.
“You saw it. The thing that hit us.”
“Don’t dare try to pull me in with the same crazy bullshit you were spouting. I heard you in the hospital, spouting off about giant wakes and fucking Godzilla coming out of the ocean and sinking our boat.”
“I’m not lying, why the hell would I?”
“Guilt? Who the hell knows?”
“Guilt at what?”
“For leaving them, for getting in that damn life raft.”
“You got in it too,” Rainwater screamed, shoving Mackay in the chest. “You got in because you saw what I saw, and you didn’t want to be on that boat any more than I did.”
“Don’t you stand here and talk to me like some kind of veteran fisherman. You’re a rookie. I spent years on that damn boat. They were like my family. It’s enough they are dead, without you making these dumb fuckin’ claims about sea monsters.”
“I know what I saw!”
“Let’s say you did,” Mackay said, his face twisted into a scowl. “Let’s say you saw what you say you did, and it was responsible for sinking the boat, what good will it do to shout from the rooftops about it? Why not let things heal normally without damaging the legacy of your family?”
“I can’t do that!” Rainwater screamed.
“Why not?”
“Because I have to find out what caused it. I have to know if I was right.”
“You go back out there, and you’re going to get yourself killed.”
“Maybe so. At least my conscience would be clear. Anything has to be better than living in denial like you.”
“You son of a bitch,” Mackay bellowed, and tackled Rainwater to the ground. The two rolled around the floor, each trying to land blows on the other.
“Cut it out!”
Valerie hurried from her car to where the two were fighting, glaring at them as they got to their feet and brushed themselves down.
“I think we all need to talk.” She said.
“What about?” Rainwater asked.
“About the man from the government who just came to see me and was asking all sorts of questions about you.”
“What did he want to know?”
“Not here. Back at the house. You better come too,” she said to Mackay, “your name came up more than once.”
The three of them sat around the dinner table in Valerie’s kitchen. Rainwater and Mackay did all they could to ignore each other, the tension between them heavy and uncomfortable.
“The man who came to see me today was asking questions about the accident. More specifically, asking about both of you and what you might know.”
“What did you tell him?” Mackay asked.
“I didn’t tell him anything, but he was pushy. Said he was some kind of government contractor or something. He asked a lot of questions about you, Henry. He wanted to know where you were, how he could reach you. He said it was a matter of national security. What the hell are you mixed up in?”
“Let me guess,” Mackay sneered, “he was here about your bloody sea monster.”
“What are you talking about?” Valerie asked.
“Oh, I thought he’d have told you by now. He seems to think the accident was caused by some kind of monster slamming into the side of the boat.”
“Is this what you were here to tell me earlier?” she asked. “That’s why you wanted the Lisa Marie, isn’t it? To go back out there and find it.”
“This guy is a fucking idiot.” Mackay bellowed.
Rainwater felt a surge of rage, and before he knew what was happening, he was on his feet, pointing at Mackay.
“You might be best to keep your mouth shut before I shut it for you.”
Mackay grinned, and stood, inviting Rainwater to him.
“Come on you little shit. Try it. Come on and see what happens.”
“Both of you stop it!”
Valerie’s words went unheard as both men sized each other up.
“Take it outside if you wanna fight. You don’t do it in my house.”
“You heard the lady,” Mackay said with a wide grin. “Let’s take this outside.”
“Come on, let’s do it.” Rainwater said, striding towards the door.
Whilst Rainwater’s back was turned, Mackay picked up one of the dining chairs and slammed it into him, and in one smooth motion opened the door, grabbed Rainwater by the jacket and threw him outside, following and kicking him hard in the stomach. Valerie was screaming at them to stop, but Mackay was like a man possessed. He beat on Rainwater, the younger man vastly out skilled by Mackay. The fight was both short and incredibly one sided as Mackay delivered a vicious beating. Breathless and with Valerie screaming in his ear, he stood and was suddenly overcome with shame.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” he panted.
“Get out of here, just go.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Get the hell out of here. Joey and Sam would be ashamed of you.”
“It’s him,” he said, pleading his case. “He’s crazy. All this talk of fucking sea monsters. Why can’t he leave it alone?”
“Maybe it’s all he has.” She shot back, glaring at him as she started to cry.
Mackay looked from Valerie to Rainwater, then back to Valerie.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his bottom lip trembling as he spoke. “I loved them too. They were like family.”
“Henry is family. The only one I have left.”
“I know, but he ain’t perfect. You call him family when he won’t even use the name. You wanna ask him when he comes round if he’s a Harris or Rainwater. Kid needs to make up his mind and cut it out with these damn stories.”
Mackay strode away, leaving Valerie to help Rainwater to his feet and back to the house.
CHAPTER 12
The island of New Guinea
Pacific Ocean
Freeman paced the beach barricade, pausing to wipe the sweat from his brow. The scorching temperatures had turned his pale skin an ugly shade of red, and the portly man checked his watch for the twentieth time in the last five minutes.
On the other side of the barrier, a large crowd of locals and tourists were rubbernecking and trying to get a look at the remains of the blue whale that was stinking up the beach. Freeman had been sent to make sure the Marine biologist they had called for got an undisturbed look at the remains. He pushed his glasses back up his sweaty face, and glanced at his watch again. The stench of the dead animal was awful. He had been told not to touch it, and to erect screens around the carcass to keep the curious eyes of the public off the body. That was a day ago. Freeman hoped their Marine biologist was there before Andrews himself was, otherwise, he suspected he might be in for a verbal dressing down which he was both too hot and too tired to take. His attention was caught by a skinny man with glasses and a nerdy, awkward gait who pushed to the front of the barricade. Freemen would have bet his bottom dollar that this was his biologist. His interest lasted only a second before he shifted his gaze to the smoking hot redhead who was following him.
“You must be Thompson, the Marine biologist we sent for.” Freeman said, thrusting his hand towards the bespectacled man.
“Actually, that’s me.” Said the redhead, giving Freemans hand a professional double pump and releasing him. “I’m Clara Thompson. This is my assistant, Dexter.”
“My apologies, this heat is baking me alive. I’m Gus Freeman, I’m the one who called you.”
Clara nodded, half looking over Freeman’s shoulder to the screens erected further down the beach.
“So, what do we have here? What was so urgent to have the government fly me in all the way from Oz?”
“Whale carcass,” Freeman said, pulling a gap in the barrier to allow Clara and Dexter through. The trio began to walk towards the screens as Freeman continued to speak.
“It washed up here a couple of days ago. Some guy found it whilst he was walking his dog, we closed the beach after that. As far as I know, nobody has seen the remains yet.”
“So why did you ask for me? Does New Guinea not have marine biologists?”
Freeman came to a halt, and as Clara looked at the awkward, sweating official, she half felt sorry for him.
“Look, I was told to get the best, and your name came up pretty much everywhere I searched.”
“This all seems a little extreme for a whale carcass. Why all the secrecy?”
Freeman fidgeted, and wiped his arm against his brow.
“Well, frankly, I would rather not say.”
“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what we are dealing with.” Clara said, trying to sneak a look between the screens.
“Oh, sorry, I think you misunderstand. We know what it looks like happened, I would rather you see for yourself without me clouding your judgement.”
Clara flicked her eyes to Dexter, and she could see her curiosity mirrored in his face.
“Why do I get the feeling I’m about to see something unusual?”
Freeman grinned without humour.
“Lady, you don’t know the half of it. Come take a look.”
Freeman led them around the screen, and even though she had visited every corner of the earth and thought she had seen pretty much all there was to see, she still drew a sharp breath when she saw what lay beyond the screens.
“What the hell did this?” she asked, unable to take her eyes from the carcass.
“Well, frankly, we were hoping you could tell us.” Freeman said as he stood beside them.
The remains of the blue whale dwarfed them where it lay half in, half out of the water. Dozens of seagulls were feeding on its body, as others still circled overhead. Although it was unusual, Clara had seen evidence of blues being attacked. Sometimes, particularly aggressive pods of Orcas had been known to attack if they were desperate enough. Although not in this case. Even at a glance, she knew it was no Orca attack.
The entire lower half of the whale’s stomach was missing, its fleshy blubber fanned out over the sand, sloshing and rolling in the gentle tides. What looked to be a huge bite had been taken out of the animals flank, and one of its flippers was missing.
Clara tried to take it all in, but her eyes kept drifting towards the bite.
“When did this wash up?”
“Couple of days ago.” Freeman said as he squinted at Clara. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know yet. Has anyone interfered with it since it was found?”
“No, that’s how it washed up. Damn seagulls might well have helped themselves to a bite or two, other than that, it’s been sealed off and under guard.”
Freeman nodded to the rotting remains. “What could do that, in your opinion?”
Nothing I know of.
She almost said it, and then clamped her jaw closed.
“It depends. I need to make a few initial examinations.”
“Go right ahead, if you can stand the smell.” Freeman said, grimacing and shooting the dead whale a venomous look.
Clara turned to Dexter. “Start taking some pictures, all angles.”
“On it,” Dexter said, slipping off his backpack and looking for the camera.
“Hand me the tape measure will you?” she said as Dexter rummaged in his pack. He found it and handed it to her, and she approached the carcass, fanning the mass of droning flies away from her face as she took a closer look. Her instincts screamed at her to go directly to the bite, but she wasn’t sure where she stood with Freeman, and so she walked instead to the stumpy remaining flesh of the flipper and crouched in the sand, leaning closer to examine the wound. She knew what her eyes were telling her, the facts didn’t tally with what she knew as possible. With a frown, she stood and looked at the remains.
“Looks like a fully grown male. Size can only be estimated due to decomposition and extensive tissue loss, but I would say eighty five to ninety five feet in length.”
Dexter started to snap photographs as she walked towards the deep wound on the whale’s side.
“Death appears to be due to massive blood loss from injuries consistent with attack by a large predator.”
She glanced at Freeman who stood sweating with his hands on his hips.
“Is it a bite?” he asked.
“Hard to say. My first instinct would be to say that it’s far too big, and there is nothing out there that could inflict such a wound.”
“Looks like a bite to me, if you don’t mind me saying.” Freeman said as he wrinkled his nose at the smell.
“Appearances can be deceptive. Remember, Mr Freeman, this creature could have been dead for days before it washed up here. Any number of predators could have fed on this animal.”
“Why there though? Wouldn’t they have bitten it elsewhere?”
She had asked herself that same question, and because she hadn’t yet formulated an answer, declined to give Freeman one. Instead, she turned to Dexter.
“Hang five with the photos for a minute, and help me measure this...”
Bite
“…Wound,” she said, stopping herself from saying the wrong word. Dexter set his camera in the sand, and jogged to Clara, grabbing the tape measure. Even as they went through the motions of taking the gaping wounds measurements, she was now certain it was a bite. She had learned to read such things as an average person might read a book, but this particular book looked to be written in a brand new language, because it made no sense. Dexter knew it too, she could see it in his eyes as they took their measurements. When it was done, she took a step back and simply stood, staring at the whale and trying to make sense of what she was looking at. Freeman approached, his presence foretold by his musky, sweaty odour as he stood beside her.
“So, what do you think?” he asked, glancing at Clara, who was still staring at the whale.
“I’m not entirely sure.”
“It’s a bite, isn’t it?”
She turned to Freeman and took a sip of her bottled water.
“It looks like one, and if it is, that opens up a whole host of problems.”
“Such as?”
“Well, for starters, the wound is twenty eight feet across and nine feet deep. If it’s a bite, we need to rewrite the history books.”
“What do you mean?”
She hesitated, wondering if she should say what was on her mind.
“I mean, if that is a singular bite from one animal, which at this stage it appears to be, you’re looking at something of unbelievable size.”
Freeman glanced at the wound, and back to Clara. “Please, explain what you mean.”
“If this is a bite, Mr Freeman, then based on the radius and depth of the wound, we are talking about an animal which is over three hundred and fifty feet in length, and weighing three to five hundred tons.”
“That’s impossible,” Freeman said, his eyes wide. “I mean, there isn’t anything in the ocean big enough is there?”
“As far as science knows, no,” Clara said quietly “For as much as I would love to suggest otherwise, this does appear to be a bite inflicted by a huge, and as yet, unknown animal.”
“I think,” he said as he looked at her, “you better have a word with my boss. He might be able to give you some more information about this…situation.”
Freeman took out his phone and dialled a number as Clara and Dexter looked on. She tried to gauge the conversation, but Freeman walked away, taking his sweaty stench with him and leaving them for the time being, alone.
“What do you think?” Dexter said quietly.
“I think we’re in over our heads he
re.”
“You’re telling me. That’s one hell of a bite. Something ate the crap out of this animal.”
“What are your first thoughts?” she asked, keeping a close eye on Freeman.
“Looks like something big. From the early examination of the wound, I’d say whatever did this has teeth between twenty and thirty inches long.”
He shook his head and flashed a nervous smile. “Hell, even as I say it, the whole thing sounds implausible.”
“Well,” Clara said, glancing at the carcass, “if it helps, I drew the same conclusion. There’s something out there, and it’s big and aggressive. I think whatever it is, it’s responsible for all the beaching’s we have seen of late.”
“You think it’s so dominant that it might be scaring the marine life into beaching itself?”
“It would make sense. It certainly fits with everything else.”
“So what’s our next move?”
“For now, we keep our suspicions to ourselves. Last thing we need is to be frozen out of this. Let’s see what this guy’s boss has to say.”
Dexter nodded, and spoke under his breath. “Heads up, he’s coming back.”
The pair waited as Freeman walked back towards them. He was squinting at the sun as he stopped and exhaled, the phone still held in his hand.
“My boss asks if you would be willing to meet him.”
“What does he want?” Clara asked.
“He wants you to join his team.”
“What team?”
“The team that is going to find whatever attacked this whale.”
“Tell your boss we would be happy to meet with him and discuss it in person.” Clara said.
Freeman nodded, and held the phone to his ear.
“They said yes.” He said simply, and then listened as he was given instructions. Clara turned away from Freeman and looked at the giant carcass on the beach. She tried to imagine the scale of the kind of creature that could incapacitate such a goliath of the seas, but try as she might, she couldn’t see it. It was too big, too improbable. Hell, it was impossible, even if the facts were right in front of her.
