Meg_A Novel of Deep Terror

by Steve Alten

  For a long moment he stared at the object, his bleeding hand cleansed by the rain. Concealing the six inch weapon under his jacket, he walked toward the stern rail.

  The ship’s twin propellers churned the dark waters into a trail of foam. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, Danielson tossed the white Megalodon tooth into the Pacific Ocean, returning it to its rightful owner.

  Epilogue

  Naval Medical Center

  San Diego, California

  One month later…

  “THE HEARING WAS A JOKE. My JAG officer essentially told me my career was over, that the best deal I could make was to accept the dishonorable discharge and complete a three month psychiatric evaluation. I actually felt relieved this morning when I got the note that you finally wanted to see me. Guess I was lucky the hospital was in San Diego. At least my wife can visit.”

  “And does she?”

  “Does she what?”

  “Visit you. It’s been a month. Has she been back since the men in the white suits brought you in?”

  “She’s been busy working weekends as a hostess at a restaurant”

  “Which leaves Monday through Friday.”

  “What are you implying?” Lying on the leather sofa, Jonas Taylor sat up and gazed at the psychiatrist. The man had his bare feet propped up on the oak desk, the drab white wall at his back harboring framed diplomas and a few naval photos—none resembling the psychiatrist.

  “Implying? Nothing. In fact, it’s common for spouses of dishonorably discharged officers to distance themselves at first. Same thing happens with drunk drivers who kill innocent bystanders. Forgiveness takes time.”

  “Now that I think about it, Maggie seemed more upset about me losing my commission than killing those two scientists.”

  “Women… Actually though, I was talking about you. I’ve been watching you since you got here. You’re angry. You feel used. Abandoned by the Navy, your brothers-in-arms. You also feel guilty about what happened on the dive. You’re a moral guy. We need to work on that.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means if you can’t deal with death then don’t become a mortician or enlist in the military. No sane person dives the Mariana Trench; those two eggheads knew the risks just as every soldier knows the risk when he enlists. Two guys died on your watch. Deal with it. I’ve been in combat and I’ve killed other human beings. It’s a sucky, clouds-of-doom feeling, and even though it’s true, the whole ‘doing it for God and country’ business still doesn’t heal the wound.”

  “What does?”

  “Instead of moping around, try doing something nice for a stranger. Help others who are less fortunate than you. You’re staying in a hospital, how about visiting some sick people? There’s an entire ward of kids with cancer here—teach ’em how to play poker. God will judge you when He’s ready; use the time you have left to give Him as many positives on your resume as you can. At the same time, stop being such an all-American hero patsy. You should have told Danielson and his piss boy, Heller, to take that last dive order and shove it up their asses.”

  “You don’t sound like any shrink I’ve ever met.”

  James Mackreides grinned. “That’s because I’m more of a life coach.”

  “Hey coach, how come you’re not in any of the family photos on your desk?”

  “We’ll discuss that in the EVAC chopper.”

  “EVAC chopper?”

  “The one on the roof. We’re taking it to tonight’s 49ers-Cowboys game.”

  “You have tickets?”

  “Hell, no. I figured we’d worry about that after we stole the chopper.”

  “Makes sense.”

  For the first time in as long as he could remember, Jonas Taylor smiled. Then he followed his new friend and fellow inmate out the door to steal a helicopter.

  Meg: A Novel of Deep Terror

  By Steve Alten

  MEGALODON

  Late Jurassic—Early Miocene Period

  The Coast of the Asiamerica-Northern Landmass

  (Pacific Ocean)

  FROM THE MOMENT the early morning fog had begun to lift, they sensed they were being watched. The herd of Shantungosaurus had been grazing along the misty shoreline all morning. Measuring more than forty feet from their duck-billed heads to the end of their tails, these reptiles, the largest of the hadrosaurs, gorged themselves on the abundant supply of kelp and seaweed that continued to wash up along the shoreline with the incoming tide. Every few moments, the gentle giants raised their heads like a herd of nervous deer, listening to the noises of the nearby forest. They watched the dark trees and thick vegetation for movement, ready to run at the first sign of approach.

  Across the beach, hidden among the tall trees and thick undergrowth, a pair of red reptilian eyes followed the herd. The Tyrannosaurus Rex, largest and most lethal of all terrestrial carnivores, stood twenty-two feet above the forest floor. Saliva oozed from the big male’s mouth, its muscles quivering with adrenaline, as it focused on two duckbills venturing out into the shallows, isolating themselves from the herd.

  With a blood-curdling roar, the killer crashed from the trees, its eight tons pounding the sand and shaking the earth with every step. The duckbills momentarily froze, then rose on their hind legs and scattered in both directions along the beach.

  The two hadrosaurs dwelling in the surf saw the carnivore closing in on them, its jaws wide, fangs bared, its bone-chilling trumpet drowning the crash of the surf. Trapped, the pair turned and plunged into deeper water to escape. They strained their long necks forward and began to swim, their legs churning to keep their heads above water.

  Driven by hunger, T. rex crashed through the surf after them. Far from buoyant, the killer waded into deeper waters, snapping its jaws at the incoming swells. But as it neared its prey, the T. rex’s clawed feet sank deep into the muddy sea floor, its weight driving it into the mire.

  The hadrosaurs paddled in thirty feet of water, safe for the moment. But having escaped one predator, they now faced another.

  The six-foot gray dorsal fin rose slowly from the sea, its unseen girth gliding silently across the dinosaur’s path. If the T. rex was the most terrifying creature ever to walk the earth, then Carcharodon megalodon was easily lord and master of the sea. Sixty feet from its conical snout to the tip of its half-moon-shaped caudal fin, the shark moved effortlessly through its liquid domain, circling its outmatched prey. It could feel the racing heartbeats of the hadrosaurs and the heavier thumpa thumpa of the T. rex, its ampullae of Lorenzini—gel-filled sensory pores located beneath its snout— detecting the pounding organs’ electrical impulses. A line of neuro-cells along its flank registered each unique vibration in the water, while its directional nostrils tasted the scent of sweat and urine excreted from its floundering meal-to-be.

  The pair of hadrosaurs was paralyzed in fear, their eyes following the unseen creature’s sheer moving mass which circled closer, creating a current of water that lifted and dragged the two reptiles into deeper waters. The sudden change panicked the duckbills—the beasts quickly reversing direction, paddling back toward the beach. They would take their chances with the Tyrannosaurus.

  Legs churning water, they moved back into the shallows, feeling the mud swirling beneath their feet. T. rex, in water up to its burly chest, let out a thundering growl, but could not advance, the predator struggling to keep from sinking farther into the soft sea floor.

  The duckbills neared the reptile’s snapping jaws, then suddenly broke formation, striding in separate directions, passing within a few harrowing feet of the frustrated hunter. The T. rex lunged, snapping its terrible jaws, howling in rage at its fleeing prey. The duckbills never stopped, bounding through the smaller waves until they staggered onto the beach and collapsed on the warm sand, too exhausted to move.

  Still sinking, the Tyrannosaurus had to struggle to keep its huge head only a few feet above water. Insane with rage, it lashed its tail wildly in an attempt to
free one of its hind legs. Then, all at once, it stopped struggling and stared out to sea.

  From the dark waters a great dorsal fin was approaching, slicing through the fog.

  The T. rex cocked its head and stood perfectly still, instincts telling it that it had wandered into the domain of a superior hunter.

  The Tyrannosaurus felt the tug of current caused by thirty tons of circling mass. Its red eyes followed the gray dorsal fin until it finally disappeared beneath the murky waters.

  T. rex growled quietly, searching through the haze. Leaning forward, it managed to free one of its thickly-muscled hind legs, then quickly freed the other.

  On the beach, the hadrosaurs took notice and backed away—

  —as the towering dorsal fin rose again from the mist, this time racing directly for the T. rex.

  The reptile roared, accepting the challenge, its jaws snapping in anger.

  The wake kept coming, the dorsal fin rising higher… higher, while underwater, the unseen assailant’s head rotated slightly, its jaws hyperextending seconds before it slammed into the T. rex’s soft mid-section like a freight train striking a disabled SUV.

  T. rex slammed backward through the ocean, its breath blasting out of its crushed lungs, an eruption of blood spewing out of its open mouth seconds before its head disappeared beneath the waves.

  With a whoosh the dinosaur fought its way back to the surface, its rib cage crushed within the powerful jaws of its still-unseen killer, the T-rex choking on it gushing innards.

  The hadrosaurs had watched the scene unfold. They waited for their stalker to reappear, their bladders releasing in fear. Long moments passed, the sea remaining silent. The spell of the attack broken, the duckbills abandoned the beach, lumbering toward the trees to rejoin their herd.

  An explosion of ocean sent their heads turning as the sixty-foot shark burst from the water, its enormous head and muscular upper torso quivering as it fought to remain suspended above the waves, the broken remains of its prey grasped within its terrible jaws. Then, in an incredible display of raw power, the Meg shook the reptile from side to side, allowing its massive rows of seven-inch serrated teeth to rip through gristle and bone, the action sending swells of pink frothing water in every direction.

  No other scavengers approached the Meg as it fed. The predatory fish had no mate to share its kill with, no young to feed. A rogue hunter, territorial by nature, the shark mated out of instinct and killed its young when it could, for the only challenge to its reign came from its own kind. A marvel of nature that had evolved over hundreds of millions of years, it would adapt and survive the natural catastrophes and climatic changes that caused the mass extinctions of the giant reptiles and countless prehistoric mammals. And while Megalodon’s own numbers would eventually dwindle, some members of its species would manage to survive, isolated from the world of man in the perpetual darkness of the unexplored ocean depths…

  THE PROFESSOR

  November 8, 5:42 p.m.

  The Scripps Institute, Anderson Auditorium

  La Jolla, California

  JONAS TAYLOR STOPPED the projector as the image of the Megalodon feeding upon the T-rex began to pixelate on the big screen. The house lights came up, allowing the thirty-seven-year-old paleobiologist to look out at his audience of just under fifty attendees, most of the seats empty.

  “I hope you enjoyed our little ‘match of the titans.’ For the record, T-rex and Carcharodon megalodon never actually shared the same time period on our planet. Tyrannosaurus rex lived during the late Cretaceous and died off about sixty-five million years ago after an asteroid struck Earth. The Megalodon’s reign began during the Miocene period, about thirty-five million years later and lasted until the dawn of modern man. Other than that, the film is fairly accurate. Megalodon was a real monster, the prehistoric cousin of our modern-day Great White shark, only it was fifty to seventy feet long and weighed close to seventy thousand pounds. Its head alone was probably as large as a Dodge Ram pickup; its jaws could have engulfed and swallowed half-a-dozen grown men whole. And I haven’t even mentioned the teeth—razor-sharp, six to seven inches long, each possessing serrated edges like a steel steak knife.”

  The former deep-sea submersible pilot loosened his collar and took a slow deep breath, knowing he had his audience’s attention. Of course, lecturing in front of a sparse crowd was disappointing. Jonas knew his theories were controversial, that there were as many critics in the audience as there were supporters.

  Still, just to be heard, to feel important again …

  “Fossilized Megalodon teeth found around the world tell us the species dominated the oceans over most of the last thirty million years. Some experts believe the species perished about two million years ago as a result of the last Ice Age. Others have found teeth that date back a mere hundred thousand years. From a geological perspective, either estimate is just a tick of the clock, and there’s little doubt our two species shared the planet at the same time. The big question, of course, is why did the most fearsome predator in Earth’s history die-off at all? If the Great White shark survived the last Ice Age, why not its prehistoric cousin?”

  Jonas loosened his collar a bit more. He rarely wore suits, and this eight-year-old wool jacket itched like hell.

  “Those of you who read my book are aware of how my opinions often differ from those of most paleobiologists. Many in my field spend a great deal of time theorizing why a particular species no longer exists, while I prefer to focus my research on how a seemingly extinct species might still exist.”

  A broad-chested man in his mid-fifties stood from his seat in the first row, demanding to be heard. Jonas recognized Lee Udelsman. His former colleague at Scripps had become an outspoken critic.

  “Professor Taylor, I spent twenty-nine ninety-five on your book and read it from cover to cover, I was left with the impression that you actually believe Carcharodon megalodon may still be roaming our oceans. Is that true?”

  The audience murmured, waiting for the answer they had come to hear.

  Jonas composed himself. Be careful. The wrong quote will kill your credibility, not to mention book sales.

  “Do I believe vast numbers of Megs may still be roaming our oceans? Not at all, Professor Udelsman. I’m simply pointing out that, as scientists, we tend to take a rather short-sighted ‘if we haven’t seen it, it doesn’t exist anymore’ approach when it comes to declaring certain marine animals extinct. For instance, scientists once believed the coelacanth, a species of lobe-finned fish that thrived three hundred million years ago, had gone extinct over the last seventy million years. That so-called fact held up until 1938, when a fisherman hauled a living coelacanth out of the deep waters off South Africa. Now scientists routinely observe these ‘living fossils’ in their natural habitat.”

  Lee Udelsman held his ground. “Professor Taylor, we’re all familiar with the discovery of the coelacanth. But I think you’ll agree, there’s a big difference between a five-foot bottom-feeder and a sixty-foot predatory shark.”

  Jonas checked his watch, realizing he was running behind schedule. “Yes, I agree. My point was simply that I prefer to investigate the possibilities of a species’ survival rather than add to any unproven conjecture regarding extinction among marine dwellers. I often hear critics state that if Megalodon were still alive we’d have seen one by now—at least a dead one that washed ashore. The statement is ridiculous. First, the oceans are vast and sharks have no reason to surface just to show a passing boat their telltale dorsal fin. As far as the remains of a dead Meg washing ashore, it’s a physiological fact that dead sharks don’t float, they sink. Other predators devour the meat, leaving behind the cartilage, which dissolves in seawater. All that’s left are the animal’s teeth, which end up buried on the sea floor.”

  “Agreed. But you still haven’t answered my question, Professor Taylor. Do you believe Megalodon is still alive?”

  The audience applauded.

  Jonas glanced at his watch. Ten mi
nutes late… Maggie’s going to be pissed. Toss Udelsman some red meat, sign a few books, then call it a night.

  “From strictly a logical scientific standpoint, yes, professor I believe it’s possible. We know Megalodon’s major food source—whales—was still quite abundant following the last Ice Age, so there was plenty to eat. As far as colder temperatures affecting the creatures, we know that the internal anatomy of larger sharks like the Great White functions like an internal heat factory. The Meg’s moving muscles could channel gobs of hot blood into its extremities through a process known as gigantothermy, enabling it to adapt to even the coldest temperatures.

  “The question is—what happened? Obviously there was a great die-off. In my opinion, Megalodon’s thirty million year reign was terminated by the rise of the Killer Whale. Pods of Orca numbering twenty to forty adults decimated Meg nurseries, which were relegated to the shallows. Over time the adult sharks died off and the species bottomed out.”

  His former colleague wasn’t through, turning Jonas’s night into a two-man show. “You’re contradicting yourself, Taylor. You just said Megalodon might still be out there.”

  “Correct. A decimated population doesn’t necessarily equate to extinction. Orcas may be the wolves of the shallows but they can’t inhabit the mid-waters of the ocean, let alone the abyss. Prior to 1977, many scientists—no doubt you among them—believed the abyss was actually barren; after all, how could life exist without light… without photosynthesis? When we actually bothered to take a look, we discovered hydrothermal vents—miniature volcanoes of life-giving chemicals—spewing mineral-rich waters at temperatures that exceed seven hundred degrees Fahrenheit. In some cases these minerals will level off about a half-mile or so above the sea floor, creating a layer of insulation that keeps in the heat, forming what we now call a hydrothermal plume. In essence, you have an anomaly of nature, a tropical oasis of life running along the very bottom of the ocean, separated from the surface by a frigid layer of water. These hydrothermal vents and their minerals anchor vast chemosynthetic food chains, some of which, could support a subspecies of Megalodon.”