From the Deep

by Michael Bray

  “I don’t scare at all.”

  “I do.” Morrison shot back, blowing smoke out of his nostrils. Russo looked at him with his eyebrows raised. “You seem surprised.” He said, watching Russo shuffle from foot to foot.

  “I thought you were our fearless survival expert. It doesn’t bode well if you are afraid too.”

  “That’s where you have it all wrong,” he replied with a faint smile. “See, a healthy dose of fear keeps the senses sharp. It keeps a person alert. In my experience, without fear, a person is more likely to do something stupid and put themselves at risk.”

  “Well, you can trust me that I won’t do that. I pride myself on my planning.”

  “I know,” Morrison nodded, “which is why I ask myself why you’re doing this? More importantly, what do you hope to do if you find this beast in its lair? As far as I can see, you’re powerless.”

  Russo opened his mouth, and then snapped it shut. Morrison had a point.

  “Look,” he said, “I don’t pay you to think. I pay you to make sure we survive. I’ll give you the extra fifty thousand if that’s what it takes. I want the team ready to go within the hour.”

  Morrison stood and flicked his cigarette out of the broken wheelhouse window.

  “Whatever you say, boss. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you. As long as you know, money or no money, I can’t guarantee you that you will live long enough to see this fish of yours.”

  “Maybe I’ll surprise you.”

  “Maybe,” Morrison said with a shrug, “or maybe we’ll all die out there in the ice. I suppose once we set out from here, all bets are off the table.”

  “I don’t know about you, but I certainly want to live.”

  “Yeah,” he said, walking past Russo, “don’t we all.”

  CHAPTER 58

  “They’re leaving.” Clara said as she stared out of the window.

  Mackay and Rainwater joined her, watching the group of twelve men in matching red winter clothing shrug into backpacks, and hook coils of ropes over their shoulders.

  “Maybe they’re just getting ready for the Coast Guard to arrive?” Rainwater said, not believing it himself.

  “I doubt the Coast Guard will be coming at all.” Mackay said, tapping on the glass. “I see that prick Russo with that big son of a bitch Mito. He wouldn’t be out there if we were just waiting to be picked up.”

  “Surely they aren’t about to try to cross the ice?” He said, glancing at Mackay.

  “I wouldn’t put it past em’. Especially considering the lengths he’s gone to so far to get what he wants.”

  “You think he would really risk trying to cross that ice on foot and climb the shelf?”

  “I think at this point he’s willing to try anything.”

  “We need to do something,” Rainwater said.

  “May not have to,” Mackay muttered as he returned to his bunk and lay down. “If they are planning to walk out over the ice, chances are the arseholes will kill themselves anyways.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “Nothing. Let them get on with it if that’s what they want to do.”

  “We can’t just sit by and watch,” Clara cut in, sitting on the edge of the second bunk.

  “I don’t see what choice we have. Might be an idea to get comfortable. We could be here for a while.”

  “If they all go out there and something happens, we’ll die in here.”

  “They won’t leave the boat completely empty. My guess is there will be a skeleton crew on board in case they need to radio back for help. Relax, nobody will forget us.” Rainwater said, watching as preparations continued outside.

  ”Hey, they really are leaving,” Clara said, as she watched Russo and his men climb over the edge of the boat and begin to cross the ice.

  “Crazy bastards,” Mackay said as he and Rainwater joined Clara at the window.

  Russo immediately realised he had made a mistake. The idea had seemed entirely plausible from the boat, however, now they were walking across frozen ocean, and it took a tremendous effort of will to keep going. He could feel the frightened and hateful eyes of his crew on him as he followed Morrison, trying as best he could to ignore the cracking under his feet with each step. It was like a giant game of Russian roulette. Morrison had taken great pleasure in telling Russo how the landscape – although seemingly solid – was actually a series of icebergs that had been frozen together. He made a point of explaining that as long as they didn’t step on the joints between the bergs directly, they should be fine, but also pointed out that because of the snowfall, actually spotting them would be nigh on impossible. Russo glanced at Morrison ahead. His shoulders hunched, hands thrust into his pockets. His breath pluming as he traversed the ice. Of them all, he was the only one who still seemed unafraid, and looked to be taking some form of sick delight in the worries of the rest of the team. In single file, they inched towards the giant ice shelf, which up close was even more intimidating as it towered above them.

  We will never be able to climb that thing.

  He had been repeating it over and over to himself as they neared, and only pride stopped him from abandoning the mission.

  Just keep moving. One foot in front of the other.

  The advice was sound enough. The reality of the situation was that he was beyond afraid. He glanced over his shoulder. The Victorious was already no more than a ghostly shadow in the swirling snowstorm.

  Forwards then.

  Time passed and lost all sense of meaning. Shadows lengthened and the sky started to grow dark, and still the ice held. Russo started to wonder if they might yet make it.

  The Victorious was eerily quiet since the crew had ventured onto the ice. The night had been long, and what little sleep Andrews had managed to get was broken with nightmares of dying out here alone because of Russo’s incompetence. He walked the deserted corridors of the stricken vessel, grateful for the time to think about what to do for the best. There was no way to contact the outside world. No way to raise the alarm and get help if the boat slipped from its perch and started to take on water. The wind rocked the stricken vessel, and Andrews couldn’t see any way Russo and his team could have possibly survived the climb in such awful conditions.

  He walked out on the deck, grateful for the warming sun on his face despite the intense bite of the wind. He lifted his binoculars and scanned the ice shelf, expecting to see bodies littering the base of the shelf, of telltale dark pools where the team had fallen through the ice to their death. To his surprise, he saw none of those things. He could see the blue climbing rope swaying against the face of the shelf.

  The crazy bastard made it.

  He lowered the binoculars, and looked out at the dense field of ice that had locked the stricken Victorious in its grasp as far as the eye could see. He suspected recovering the boat wouldn’t be an option, and it was destined to a future at the bottom of the Antarctic ocean, a relic to showcase Russo’s blind incompetence and blinkered need to succeed at all costs.

  “Screw this,” he muttered under his breath, grateful actually to hear a human voice amid the silence. He knew exactly what he had to do.

  “How did you sleep?” Rainwater asked Clara, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “I didn’t really,” she replied. “I really could use the bathroom though.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Both of them looked at Mackay, who was asleep on his side, snoring loudly.

  “Looks like somebody had a decent night anyway,” Rainwater muttered.

  Clara chuckled and walked to the window.

  “Any sign of activity?” Rainwater said as he pulled his boots on.

  “Not that I can see.”

  “At least the sun’s up,” he replied as he joined her at the window, squinting at the glare.

  “That might not be such a good thing.”

  “Oh, why not?”

  “If the ice starts to melt and break up, the boat could slip free and sink. We would drown in h
ere.”

  He didn’t reply. The thought of a horrifying, claustrophobic death in the tiny, locked room was the worst thing he could imagine. His thought process was broken by the sound of the door being unlocked. Clara and Rainwater shared a quick glance, and then were joined by Mackay, who was roused from his sleep and stared bleary eyed at the door.

  “What the hell do you want?” Rainwater said to Andrews.

  “Relax, I’m not here to cause trouble. Russo’s already done enough of that. I’m letting you out.”

  “I thought Russo ordered you to keep us locked in here?” Mackay said.

  “Russo isn’t in charge anymore.”

  “And now you expect us to trust you?” Clara said.

  “Do what you want,” Andrews shrugged. “I’m going to make coffee. It will be in the galley if you want some.”

  The trio watched him go, and then looked to each other.

  “What do we do now?” Clara asked.

  “Well, I don’t know about the two of you,” Mackay said, rubbing his eyes, “but coffee sounds good to me.”

  CHAPTER 59

  They listened as Andrews filled them in about the discovery of the fissure and Russo’s plan to go to it on foot.

  “He’s crazy,” Clara said, shaking her head. “That thing is too big to function out of the water. It’s not possible that it has dragged itself into a cave.”

  “I agree,” Andrews replied. “He seems to think there’s some kind of underwater entrance which opens into a pool or lagoon of some kind inside the ice shelf.”

  “That’s plausible. Even so, I don’t know what he hopes to achieve by going to it on foot.”

  “No, me either. All I know is this entire situation has gotten out of hand, and even if he can’t admit it to himself, Russo is out of control.”

  “I doubt they made it up the face of the ice shelf. Not in those conditions last night.” Mackay said as he drained his coffee cup.

  “They did.”

  Everyone looked at Andrews, who squirmed in his seat. “Russo radioed in early this morning to say they had reached the top of the shelf and were proceeding to the crevasse. He wanted to know how far out the containment vessel was.”

  “The crazy son of a bitch.” Rainwater muttered. “I can’t believe he actually made it.”

  “Can’t you stop him?” Clara asked Andrews. “He’s a liability to himself and everyone in his command.”

  “He doesn’t answer to me.”

  “He must answer to somebody.”

  “I don’t know anything about that.”

  “Couldn’t you call the Coast Guard? Maybe have somebody come and pick us up?”

  “Can’t,” Andrews said with a shake of the head. “Russo destroyed the radio. He wanted to make sure nobody stopped him from completing his mission. All we have now are shortwave walkie-talkies. There’s nothing else we can do.”

  “We could go after him.”

  Everyone looked at Rainwater, who in turn lowered his gaze to his empty coffee cup.

  “What I mean is, we can follow him and put an end to this.”

  “You are startin’ to sound as crazy as he is, kid,” Mackay said.

  “You don’t think I thought of that?” Spat Andrews. “I tried to talk him out of it, the guy won’t listen.”

  “Maybe words aren’t enough anymore. Maybe action is what we need.”

  “Didn’t you listen to anything I told you? Who knows how far up the chain Russo is. I can’t do anything.”

  “Bullshit,” Rainwater snapped back. “You have a duty to protect us don’t you?”

  “Well, I…”

  “Isn’t that what you government types do? Protect us from things like this? Surely you must see now that we have to end this?”

  “And how do you suggest we do that?”

  “Russo’s hell bent on capturing this thing, correct?” Rainwater said.

  “Yes,” Andrews snapped.

  “Then we have to destroy it.”

  “This isn’t some kind of bug you can crush under your shoe. This is a giant. Even if we wanted to, we can’t.”

  “I know a way.” Clara said.

  All eyes turned to her. “I know a way we can stop him. It won’t be easy. In fact, it’s not even guaranteed to work.”

  “What did you have in mind?” Rainwater asked.

  She finished her coffee, took a deep breath, and told them her plan.

  CHAPTER 60

  The mid-morning sun continued to shine from pale blue skies. Rainwater, Clara and Mackay looked out over the field of ice and the shelf beyond.

  “We can’t do this,” Mackay said, pulling his hat over his ears. “Ice is melting all over the place. It’s too dangerous.”

  “We have no choice.” Rainwater said, glancing at his bruised and beaten friend. “You sure you don’t want to stay here? You don’t have to come.”

  “Screw that, I’m not staying here. I’d rather take my chances on the ice. Besides, Morrison is out there, and I still have unfinished business with him.”

  Rainwater nodded as he shrugged into his backpack.

  Andrews joined them on deck, his face a mixture of admiration and concern.

  “You sure there isn’t anything I can do to talk you out of this?”

  “Just make sure you let this containment team of yours know what the situation is when they arrive.” Rainwater said as he peered over the bow of the boat.

  “I will.”

  “And be ready for us.”

  “How will I know when it’s done?”

  “Trust me, you’ll know.”

  The foursome stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure of how to proceed.

  “Well,” Andrews said, squinting at the sun. “You better make a move. This ice is melting fast.”

  “Agreed,” Rainwater replied, trying to ignore the tightness in his stomach and the thundering tempo of his heart. “Okay, let’s get to it.”

  He hooked his leg over the bow and carefully started to lower himself over the edge by the same ropes Russo and his men had used. Carefully, he distributed his weight onto the ice, ready to scramble back up the rope if it broke beneath him.

  “Okay, come on.” He said to Clara, who with much more grace than he managed, slid down the rope and stood beside him.

  Mackay followed, and the three of them looked out over the white landscape in between them and the ice shelf.

  “Watch out for those,” Clara said, pointing at the cracks in the ice. “It will be weak in those areas. If we fall through, there’s a chance we won’t make it back out again.”

  “Great,” Mackay said, his cheeks already flushed from the cold.

  “Well, let’s get to it. Sooner we reach the shelf the better.”

  Andrews watched them walk for a while, then retreated into the deserted vessel and poured himself a large whisky. Not for the first time, he couldn’t wait for this hellish mission to be over.

  They didn’t speak as they traversed the frozen ice field. Words hardly seemed appropriate anyway. The only sound was the crunch of snow underfoot and the occasional frightening crack or groan of the ice as it struggled to take their weight. As they left the Victorious behind, it was plain to see the ground on which they walked would soon be reclaimed by the black depths of the Antarctic Ocean, which waited for them to falter. Now, in a place far beyond fear, Rainwater led them on, knowing there was no going back. He focussed on putting one foot in front of the other, and aiming for the climbing ropes Russo and his team had left behind on the face of the ice shelf.

  “This is insane,” Mackay muttered as they moved into the shadow of the ice shelf. “We’ve no business out here.”

  “Let’s just keep moving.” Rainwater replied, unable to fault Mackay’s assessment of the situation.

  “You really think we can climb that?” he asked between ragged breaths.

  Rainwater glanced at the imposing shelf, then over his shoulder at the ice that they had just crossed.

  “
We have to.”

  “At least in the shadow of the ice shelf, the ground should be more stable underfoot.” Clara cut in.

  “I’ll take that. We need all the help we can get.” Rainwater muttered as they reached the sheer face of ice.

  Mackay whistled through his teeth. “Damn, that’s… pretty high.”

  “At least they left the ropes behind.” Rainwater said, tugging on them to test their strength.

  Clara stepped forward, checking the ropes and craning her neck to the summit.

  “You see where they went up before us?” She said, pointing at the face of the ice shelf, which was pocked with gouges from the pick axes used by Russo’s team. “If we follow their route, we should be fine.”

  “I uh… I’m not too good with heights.” Mackay muttered.

  “You’ll be harnessed in to these support ropes. Believe me, this would have been a hell of a lot more frightening if we had to free climb.”

  “You’re sure you know what you’re doing?” Rainwater asked as she clipped herself to the rope.

  “I know enough, although I’m only really a hobbyist climber. It’s how I relax. This is unlike anything I’ve ever done before.”

  Rainwater looked back towards the stricken Victorious and the ever thawing ice field on which they stood.

  “It looks like going back isn’t an option now anyway. What‘s the best way to approach this?”

  “First, you need to take off those rucksacks. You won’t be able to climb whilst wearing them. We can tie them with rope and feed it out as we climb. Once we hit the top, we can haul them up after us.”

  “Got it,” Rainwater said, shrugging the heavy rucksack off his back. “Anything else?”

  “Don’t be tempted to rush. Take it slowly. Make sure each handhold is strong. If you get tired, let the rope take your weight. We need to communicate with each other at all times.”

  Rainwater nodded. He was impressed at the way in which she had taken control of the situation, and even though he was way beyond the conventional level of fear, he was confident in her ability to see them safely to the top.