Several of the mutant fish vaulted completely out from the water not more than ten feet from Maya’s bow. The trio on board got the best view yet of these fish since they first began their quest to find the killers.
“Holy Mary, Mother of God, those the fuckers that tried to drown me!” Jack exclaimed.
“And those ugly freaks tried to eat me,” Rick said.
Katie remained vigilant in her search for the little girl. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the brothers paddling excitedly toward a clump of exposed boulders that were about four hundred yards from shore and a half mile due east. Katie trained the glasses on the boulder field and, much to her amazement, there was the little girl lying belly down on her paddleboard with her arms and feet dangling in the water. She looked to be playing hide and seek with her brothers, perhaps payback for them abandoning her for their girlfriends.
“Rick, quick, head for the rocks off Heron’s Point. The girl is there.”
Rick throttled up the motors, but he had to proceed slowly with all the big killer fish leaping unexpectedly from the water. The last thing he needed was one or more of those mutants thrashing about wildly on deck or worse, knocking him, Katie, or Jack overboard. Katie kept diligent track of the girl’s whereabouts. She was aware that the entire biomass of bait, fish, and killers was moving steadily east and in the direction of the girl. Katie also saw the two brothers closing in fast on their sister’s position. She feared the worst if the killers were distracted from their feeding frenzy.
The other captains realized what was happening and each also slowly made way toward the boulders. Rick and Valerie were the closest, only about two hundred yards from the girl, when the alpha male noticed the vaguely familiar object floating on the surface. The paddleboard silhouette resembled a body with four extremities, and it looked like something the alpha male had killed before. It also looked like that damn canine, the only creature to ever cause the alpha male pain. This was a big and easy meal. With most of the other creatures preoccupied feeding on other fish, the alpha male moved in the direction of the girl. His band of aquatic thugs followed. They circled the boulders deep, careful not to reveal their presence. The leader of the pack was wary of the object on the surface and, until he could better determine what it was, he didn’t want to risk another dog-like encounter, or worse, further injury to his eye. The alpha male and his tightly wound pack slowly made their way up the water column, inching closer to the girl. Readying to make a final pass before striking, the male’s attention was diverted in the direction of the two boys. He sensed movement of the boards as the duo paddled toward their sister. The brothers called her name but she remained silent, hidden by the boulders and by her low profile. Oblivious to what was going on beneath her and the feeding frenzy further offshore, the girl was determined to surprise her brothers. But first she wanted them to worry just a bit.
The vibrations sent out by the boys’ paddles had grabbed the full attention of the alpha male. The resonating sound was both irritating and inviting. For the moment, the creature left the girl and focused all his senses on the two moving objects. The fish was agitated and hyper-aggressive. It angled its good eye toward the surface of the water and recognized the creatures standing on the floating objects as food. The big male made one wide circle beneath the surface to gain speed and momentum for the attack. He would hit the closer of the two paddleboarders. The subservient male of the pack followed. His prize would be the trailing paddler. Once the prey was incapacitated, the rest of the pack would move in to feed while the victims were still alive and dying.
The alpha male’s charge was swift and powerful. He impacted the first paddleboard with a force that not only knocked the boy ten feet into the air, but catapulted its own body an equal distance above the surface. The second fish followed the dominant male’s lead and he struck the brother’s board with equal strength. For an instant, the two fish and both brothers suspended in air in what seemed like surreal slow motion. Jaws snapped and muscular bodies contorted as the fish watched through wicked glowing eyes for anything within reach to bite. The boys tumbled about, but looked in horror at their attackers and knew for the first time in their young lives the meaning of primal fear.
Both male fish crashed down with a force that displaced a mountain of water. Surprisingly, the initial focus of the attack was the inanimate objects. The fish bit and shredded the paddleboards to pulp, and only then turned their attention to the boys who now swam in panic toward shore. It was as if they knew that once the boards were destroyed, the boys had no means of protection or escape. The beasts toyed with the brothers, circling them and brushing against them with their bodies. They seemed to take joy in the torment. The boys stopped swimming and huddled together. They could no longer swim to safety.
To be certain the twins presented no further risk, and the younger male fish lunged at the boy . . . but did not bite. He was testing his prey. With a flick of its powerful head, he thrust the boy into the air. The alpha male readied himself to bite off the boy’s legs as soon as he landed back on the water. The alpha male’s body became rigid and his fins erect. A horrendous clicking sound once again emanated from rapidly snapping jaws, a signal to the underwater world that he was about to kill again.
As the boy landed back on the water, the fish moved in for the kill but were halted by yet another infuriating sound. The boy’s sister screamed and pounded her paddle on the surface. Rick’s boat was very close to the girl and Katie yelled to her, “Stop! Stop!” Her plea went unheeded. The girl moved her board out from the boulders and paddled toward her brothers in distress. That was a big mistake. The entire pod of fish readied for the attack. They would not allow their meal to escape.
The evil clicking built to a crescendo as each member of the pod joined in the alpha male’s death song. The intense sounds attracted the attention of many other mutant killers that began to converge upon the male and his pack. They too snapped jaws in harmonious and sinister symphony. The clicking also attracted other marine creatures, animals no one expected to see at a time like this.
The alpha male was intently focused on his two prizes. He would not be distracted this time as he had been with the dogs. He remembered; he had made an almost fatal mistake. But not now. He was ready to kill. The fish move deep beneath the boys and circled them. He would attack from behind and sever the legs just above the knees. It mattered not which boy he hit first, for the second male would strike as soon as it scented blood. With femoral arteries cut, the boys would bleed out within a minute. And then the remainder of the pack would kill the girl. They always deferred to their leader.
The alpha male was as physiologically frenzied as an animal could get. Adrenaline, testosterone, aggression pheromones, and a mutated mixture of organic chemistry fueled its rage. Its eyes radiated a ghoulish phosphorescent yellow. The maddened fish circled one last time and charged the boys, its sights set on four dangling legs. The creature, with it jaws spread wide and its chain-saw teeth clacking, was within several feet of the brothers when it felt a powerful and painful blow to its midsection. The impact pushed the alpha male to the surface, inches from its would-be prey. The upheaval had Katie thinking the fish had attacked the brothers. She screamed, “Oh my God! It’s got the boy!”
Katie, Rick, Jack, and all the other captains were so preoccupied trying to prevent the inevitable attack they were unaware of hundreds of other creatures that approached from the west. It was an aquatic cavalry to the rescue: pod upon pod of bottlenose dolphins.
The alpha male was completely disoriented and in excruciating pain as it was struck broadside yet again. This time its internal organs ruptured. The mutant fish was strong and fought to regain equilibrium. The dolphin would deny that opportunity. The mammal broke the surface of the water to refill its lungs and then submerged. The dolphin rammed the alpha male one more time, totally disabling it. As the creature listed to one side, the dolphin grabbed the killer behind its head and inverted it in the water so that it was
oriented belly up. The killer fish was deprived of an opportunity to swim and, therefore, to move oxygen through its gills. As the dolphin held the alpha male upside down, the killer fish entered a state of helplessness known as tonic immobility. The monster fish was rendered harmless as a little puppy. The dolphin swam slowly and kept the alpha male oriented this way for several minutes, during which time the killer fish suffocated to death. The second and subservient male also succumbed to the same fate, as did hundreds of other killer fish. One by one, the dolphins targeted the mutants and delivered their own brand of Darwinian justice. The water was a tumult of mayhem. Killer fish in great numbers were attacked, immobilized, and suffocated to death. Dolphins leapt triumphantly from the water, cart-wheeling in gestures of victory.
Those aboard the Maya watched in amazement as the dolphin swam past the boat still clinging to the dead alpha male. It released its hold and the fish sank to the bottom. In the end, this apex mutant monster would end up as crab food. The mammal looked up and its eyes met Jack’s, who immediately experienced a flashback to his own encounter with the killers. Now Jack remembered the images in the water as he had struggled to save his own life. It finally became clear. He spoke aloud. “Mermaid. That was the mermaid. A dolphin saved me. Pushed me to the surface.”
Katie just looked at Jack and smiled.
Rick was able to extricate the two brothers from the water as Amanda and Nick did the same with the girl. The kids were all frightened beyond their wildest nightmares, but they were safe.
As both boats floated side-by-side, Nick had realized first what had taking place.
“Katie, this is amazing. These dolphins are behaving just like orcas killing great white sharks.”
Nick referred to the phenomenon of a culture among certain populations of orcas that had learned how to incapacitate and kill great whites. The most notable of those confrontations occurred off the Farallon Islands near San Francisco when a female orca attacked and drowned a large white shark. The entire incident was captured on video by stunned whale watchers. This population of dolphins had apparently acquired a similar behavior, perhaps from their experiences ramming sharks with their snouts. However they had come by this skill, Katie was the most grateful.
“I have never in all my life been so happy to see dolphins. Do you think they got them all, Nick?”
“Tough to say, Katie. My bet is that there were hundreds of those things around. By the looks of this mayhem, I think the dolphins got the job done.”
Oddly, what was just moments before a maelstrom of fiendish activity in the Sound had been almost instantly transformed into a sea of tranquility. The only disturbance to the now calm waters of the Long Island Sound was the frolicking of dolphins. Once the demonic fish were destroyed, the mammals appeared to celebrate their victory. They put on a display of aerial acrobatics that brought tears to Katie’s eyes. She knew that without their miraculous intervention, the killings would not have stopped. In Katie’s mind, it seemed only fitting that in the end it was nature way’s that solved a problem created by man. She hugged Rick tightly and then gave Jack a kiss on the cheek.
Rick piloted Maya back into Mount Misery Harbor where they docked and called the kids’ parents. “Wait till mom and dad hear about this,” the little girl said. “You two are in big trouble.” Everyone laughed. Jack called his wife to tell her he was okay and that they would be going out to dinner. She asked what the occasion was, and Jack said simply, “Life.”
Nick Tanner and Valerie Russo were still out on the Sound. Nick had gathered up all his scientific gear and sat on the front seat of Valerie’s boat. He stared out at the water and contemplated the astonishing drama that had unfolded before his eyes. It was the most amazing experience of his professional career. Valerie nudged her way onto the seat with Nick and put her arm around his shoulder. She kissed him in a way Nick had never before been kissed. Nick liked it.
Much of the world was now watching what had taken place. Folks on the beach had videoed the entire event that was now airing on all TV networks and going viral on all social media. The party boat video also hit the airwaves. Reporters were playing up the angle of good triumphs over evil. It wouldn’t be long before Katie and Nick would be answering more questions than they cared to. At least this time, they would be viewed in a more favorable light. Some even called them heroes.
As the final phase of the tide ebbed to the east, the scent of death flowed strong beneath the water. Hundreds of mutant fish bodies carpeted the seabed of the Long Island Sound. It would be the final resting place for all but a pair of the killer fish. Two young males escaped the onslaught of dolphins. A superior flight response was triggered when fear pheromones flooded their sensory mechanisms as their pod mates faced certain doom. The remaining two fish swam east without ever stopping and exited the Long Island Sound. They headed toward Montauk and the open Atlantic Ocean.
When the time was right, one of the males would undergo a change to his physiology. What had gone undetected in all the lab tests of the mutated DNA was that the killer fish were also genetically protandrous hermaphrodites. To ensure preservation of the species that male would transform into a female.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Writing a novel is indeed an adventure and a journey of self-discovery. Having written mostly nonfiction, I wasn’t sure what to expect when I embarked upon the project that culminated in the publication of this book. I had an idea for a plot, a few characters, a laptop, and a notion that I could string enough words together to tell an interesting story. As the process unfolded, I expanded my knowledge of fish, fisheries management, marine biology, and the demanding art of writing science fiction. Along the way, I was also blessed to have met some interesting and supportive folks. The process of writing a book, especially a book of fiction, is much like running a marathon: when you hit the dreaded wall of potential physical and emotional defeat, you aren’t quite sure if you can make it to the end. But somehow you rise up and get over the hurdles, the obstacles, and other challenges that seem to all conspire against you. Eventually the writer prevails and ideas somehow become words; words become sentences, paragraphs, and then chapters.
After much toil, frustration, staring at the ceiling, and long walks on the beach with my dog, a book somehow materialized. Words seemed to find me more than I found them and for that I feel blessed. There is this mysterious place within where words are born. At times, I knew not where the ideas or words came from but they did, in a manner and way that told me this book needed to be finished. In the end, a story had been told and a book had been written. For that, I am most grateful and humbled by the sources of any and all inspirations that motivated me to continue writing.
As is often the case with any accomplishment in life, there were many family members, friends, and colleagues who me cheered me on to the finish line and through the good, bad, and ugly times that accompany the writing process. I thank them all for their encouragement and support. First and foremost my family: Gabrielle, Jacqueline, and Victoria, who endured the three years of research, writing, and nonstop chatter about the plot and the characters. To my high school English teacher, Mr. Philip Heary, I say thank you. You were the first person in my life to encourage my writing and whose words of support have stayed with me all my life: “You have something there. Keep writing.” Wherever you are, Mr. Heary, you helped light a candle that still burns brightly.
My sincerest gratitude is also extended to late Jack Samson, venerable editor and author, who totally amazed and motivated a young writer by buying his very first article for publication in Field & Stream. That article was written in 1974 and represented the beginning of my writing journey. And to angler and editor extraordinaire, Fred Golofaro, of the Fisherman Magazine, thank you for your friendship and for supporting my fishing stories for almost four decades. To the memory of Charles H. Ross Jr., a mentor at Merrill Lynch. He helped me grow and gave me many opportunities to see what I was capable of accomplishing in business and in life. At t
imes, he believed in me more than I did in myself. I will forever be indebted. Thank you to the late Herbert M. Allison, a brilliant Merrill Lynch executive and leader who instilled in me a belief that the solutions to all problems in life and in business lie in fully understanding and managing the details. Thank you to Bob Banfelder and Donna Derasmo, whose advice and encouragement helped me push on through some of the down times that accompany the process of writing fiction. A singular thanks to the Lorian Hemingway Short Story Competition that first inspired me to try my hand at fiction. And thanks to “Jannie” and “Rabbit” for being friends when one was needed most.
To Dr. Mark Di Benedetto, with whom I have had many conversations about fish, fishing, and fisheries during my wellness office visits. You help keep me going. To Dr. Jennifer Iannacone, a remarkable veterinarian who, over the years, has shed light on canine behavior that helped me write one of my favorite chapters in this book, and who shared in my sorrow when I said goodbye to Jenny. To Jay Cassell and Tony Lyons at Skyhorse Publishing, whose confidence in my work has been unwavering and fully supportive, and to Steve Price for his insightful and constructive advice. And a very special thanks to Jay McCullough, for helping me refine and shape the final version of this book.
A very heartfelt thanks goes out Frank and Tony Amato, Kermit Hummel, Steve Piatt, John Shewey, Ted Venker, Kevin Blinkoff, Jimmy Fee, and Troy Letherman: publishers and editors who’ve supported my writings about fish and fishing and who’ve motivated me to keep plugging away. I’d also like to thank some fishing buddies with whom I have shared great times on the water. You all know who you are but special thanks goes out to Captain Adrian Mason, Captain Rick Gulia, Pete Palmieri, Chuck Moore, and Tim McCloskey. Thank you Gemini, Santee, Jessie, Jenny, Grizzly, Bear, Grizzly Too, Catherine, and Leo . . . you all helped me to better understand our natural world and the bond that exists between animals and humans.
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