Anatomy of Evil (5 page)

Chapter Nine

Giddy with excitement, Gary accelerated the boat, pushing south to pursue his dream of landing the fabled monster fish of Kiritimati Island. Such a catch would be bigger than anything reeled in from the flats and lagoons during the previous five days. This was the Super Bowl finish to a week of spectacular fishing.

Rodney and Sam stationed themselves at opposite sides of the boat, searching the waves for any signs of a GT hotspot. Carol sat on the cushioned bench at the rear of the boat, taking in the adventure with a smile on her face, happy for her friends.

“We should be in the red zone,” reported Gary, looking down at the GPS monitor. “I'll slow her down.”

“Check it out!” shouted Rodney, jumping with excitement. He pointed to a wild churning in the waters ahead.

Gary leaped from the boat's controls to get a better look. Sam joined him.

Gary broke out in a big grin. A swirling, dark mass splashed at the surface. As they advanced closer, the sun hit the objects and revealed a massive school of sleek, shiny giant trevallies. Each one measured several feet long.

“We've found it!” shouted Rodney.

Gary secured the boat in place. Then he joined Rodney and Sam in the scramble for gear.

“Carol, grab a rod,” said Sam.

“No thanks, I'll watch this time,” she replied. “I've got Jake's camera. I'll take pictures.”

Rodney made a long cast, dropping a “popper” and reeling the artificial lure with a quick skim across the water's surface. Sam used a long, plastic stickbait from his tackle box, while Gary opted for live bait, tossing a mullet fish into the waters and watching a splash of activity as the GTs fought over the food.

Within minutes, the three men each hooked a fish. Then the real challenge began —enduring a fierce battle to reel in the powerful, fast-moving creatures.

Rodney's rod broke. Gary snapped a line. Sam finally pulled in a good-sized GT, but not before the fish put up a long fight, going under the boat.

The GT landed on the deck with a huge, wet slap and continued its muscular struggle. Gary rushed over with his portable scale, a black box with a hook and digital readout. Once the fish exhausted itself, they hooked it to the scale and weighed it, a slippery effort requiring all three men.

“Fifty-five pounds!” boomed Rodney.

“Not bad.”

Carol looked into the creature's fading, resigned eyes as the squirming subsided. “Poor thing…” she said, snapping a picture.

“Don't worry, he's going back,” said Sam. After recording their catch, they tossed it overboard into the sea.

The men immediately resumed fishing, switching to bigger rods. Gary caught sight of a particularly large shadow cutting a path through the underwater packs of fish.

“That's the one!” Gary shouted. “The big one. He's mine!”

“The belt,” said Rodney. “Seriously—use the belt.”

Gary nodded and quickly slid into the standup fighting belt with Rodney's assistance. “We don't need anyone going overboard,” said Rodney. “These things could pull the entire boat out to sea if they wanted to.”

The boat rocked harder as the waves began to swell, creating difficult footing.

“How are we doing with the reef?” asked Sam.

Rodney studied the surrounding area for signs of coral. “I think we're good,” he said. “As long as we stay put.”

Gary cast his bait, aiming for the big one.

“Come to Papa,” he said under his breath, eyes gazing intensely over the waters.

Rodney and Sam stopped to watch.

The movements of the monster fish were hard to miss. It cast a dominant black shape, disappearing briefly when the sun's reflection on the water caused a blinding shimmer.

Gary watched as some of the smaller fish followed his bait and he yanked it away from them. “Not for you. I want the big guy.”

Carol quietly snapped photos of the three men as they studied the ocean, framed by a perfect blue sky.

Every few minutes, one of the men would exclaim, “I see him!”

Then, after a long stretch of tense silence, Gary felt a sharp tug and said, “Oh boy… I think this is it.”

The battle began.

The giant trevally fought hard, solidly hooked but refusing to exit the water, darting and pulling in abrupt, powerful movements that rocked the boat. The fight continued for five minutes, then ten. Ultimately all three men took part in reeling in the monster fish.

When it finally landed in the boat with a hard thud, the men cheered and leaped on it to prevent a spring-like surge over the side.

Carol joined in the fray to control the GT's movements, placing her hands on the end of the slimy, squirming fish.

“What you think?” said Gary. “Is it bigger than 70?”

“I don't know,” said Rodney.

“I'll grab the scale,” said Sam.

Once the fish settled down and could be more easily controlled, the three men weighed it with the digital scale.

“Eighty-eight!” shouted Gary. “Holy shit, eighty-eight.” He punched a fist into the air. “In your face, Ric Terry!”

Carol took several photos of Gary, Sam, Rodney and the giant trevally. “This picture is going on the wall at my store,” said Gary. “I am no longer an over-the-hill football player… I am a
champion
fisherman
!”

Sam and Rodney cheered for him and they exchanged high-fives.

“Red…” said Carol.

The others didn't hear her. They continued to marvel over the capture, debating whether to throw it back or bring it to shore to show off.

“It's so red…” said Carol.

Finally someone turned toward her. “What are you talking about?” asked Rodney.

“Look.” She pointed to the sky.

A sudden accumulation of blood-red clouds moved to block the sun, rapidly draining all other colors around them. The clouds overtook the sky, advancing like growing, rolling waves.

“It wasn't supposed to rain,” said Gary.

Sam studied the changing colors. “This doesn't look like rain.”

With a piercing series of squawks, a flock of birds passed overhead, fleeing from the advancing clouds in a dense, frantic cluster.

The wind picked up, blowing sea salt. The waters around the boat swirled with foaming, 10-foot waves. The vessel rocked violently, causing the passengers to stumble and lose their footing. A blast of spray washed across the deck.

“What the hell—!” shouted Gary and then any further words became lost in a huge rumbling as the low-lying clouds completely canvassed the sky in a heavy, throbbing red. Gary staggered to the central console and grabbed the wheel. He fought to control the boat's twisting movements, but the storm took over.

The deep rumbling resembled an extended roar of thunder and then shifted to a blaring, intensifying shriek.

The sky screamed.

Cold drizzle pounded down on the boat, pelting the vessel with hail-like intensity. The cloud covering sunk lower, descending toward the ocean. The winds howled with rage, pulling rather than pushing, producing a mighty suction.

The fishing boat rocked out of control, tossing around the four passengers in a series of jolts. Sam fell, hitting his forehead. Carol clung to the deck, clutching one of the bolted down chairs. She watched in horror as the 88-pound giant trevally slid across the watery deck and slammed into her, its eyes wide and teeth gnashing. She kicked it away with a scream lost beneath the continuing roar of the storm. The red sky intensified into a blinding glow. The glow surrounded them, bringing the storm clouds all the way to the water's surface, consuming the small fishing boat as if swallowing it whole.

Gary, Rodney, Sam and Carol absorbed the most horrific fear they had ever known. A cyclone of ghastly faces and swirling flames whipped around them. A searing heat burned under their skin and entered their bones. Terror invaded their senses with repugnant sights, sounds, smells and tastes. The four victims stiffened with paralysis, hands gripping anything within reach, isolated from one another and unable to experience anything but their own personal hell.

Then came the explosion.

The red flames receded with a powerful burst of light. The boat skidded across the sea, skimming the water, propelled by a massive force. The vessel landed in the waves, slammed by the abrupt shift of momentum as the ocean reclaimed control.

The red canvas of clouds rolled back in dissipating wisps, revealing a faded blue sky that gradually regained its color and purity.

Rodney clung to a hook on the interior of the boat. His hand bled from the fierceness of his grip.

He looked across the deck, immediately searching for his friends. “Sam…! Carol…! Gary!”

He glimpsed each of them collapsed in a different area of the boat.

One by one, the four passengers stirred to full consciousness, as if shaking off a concussion or deep and powerful dream.

Gary rose to his knees and immediately vomited.

Carol coughed several times, pushing back the dry heaves.

“What…” said Gary.

“I don't know…” said Rodney.

Carol looked up at the sky, identical in appearance to earlier in the day. Pure, sunny and cloudless.

“Is anybody hurt?” asked Gary.

Sam sat up, holding a hand to his head. “I smashed my noggin, but I…I think I'm okay.”

Carol asked, “Does anybody else feel like one big sunburn?”

The three men responded affirmative.

Gary stood up, then nearly toppled, legs still shaking. “Shit,” he said.

He looked across the boat and toward the ocean. “What just happened?”

“I've never experienced a storm like that,” said Sam. “Ever.”

“Was it some kind of weird tropical hurricane?” asked Rodney.

“No,” said Gary. “A hurricane doesn't just stop and start like that, and the…those…”

“Did anyone else see the faces?” asked Carol.

“I did,” said Sam.

“What was it?” Carol stood up from the deck, clutching her arm.

“I saw it too. Like a hallucination,” said Rodney.

“We have to get back to shore,” said Gary. “Whatever that was… I don't want it coming back.”

Slowly, the four passengers regained a sense of normalcy in their surroundings. Gary steered the boat north to return to the hotel.

“My camera's gone,” said Carol, searching the deck.

“So's the fish,” muttered Rodney.

“We're just lucky to be alive,” said Sam.

The journey back up the island's shoreline was strangely uneventful.

Clustered together around Gary, who steered the boat from the center console, they continued to discuss the strange, violent storm that had attacked them out of nowhere like a vengeful beast.

Each described a similar experience, so they couldn't deny what had taken place, but no one could rationalize it.

“Bermuda triangle,” said Rodney.

“That's crazy,” said Gary.

“You got a better explanation?”

“No.”

“Maybe it's beyond our comprehension,” said Sam. “There are things about the world that don't present themselves in ways that are explained by science. There is science, and there is belief.”

“So what do you believe?” asked Rodney.

Sam looked at him for a long moment. “I believe we went to a very dark place.”

Gary said, “Maybe it's something they put in our drinks, like a drug. Maybe it was like an acid trip.”

“That was no acid trip,” said Rodney.

“How would you know?”

“When you're a police officer, you know a thing or two about narcotics.”

“I think that man was right,” said Carol, speaking up for the first time since they left the school of trevally.

“What man?” asked Rodney.

“The man who rented us this boat.”

“Jamarqui?” said Gary.

“Yes,” said Carol. “You yourself told us. He said not to go there because of evil spirits.”

“That's bullshit,” said Gary. “He made it up.”

Sam shook his head and looked back across the calm ocean waters. “Did he?”

As the fishing boat returned to the harbor, Jamarqui emerged from his small tin shed, eyes immediately drawn to the damage.

As the passengers disembarked, he scrambled toward Gary.

“Hey!” he barked. “Hey, what—what—what is this?”

Taking his arm, Gary guided him to a secluded spot on the pier for a private conversation. “No worries. I'll pay.” Gary pulled out his wallet, still wet, and began extracting bills with double digits. “This will cover repairs, it's just some scratches and dents, I assure you…”

“What happened?”

“We experienced a freak storm…some kind of weather anomaly.”

Jamarqui studied him with skeptical eyes. “Weather?”

“Came and went in a flash.”

“Did you stay on the plan?”

“More or less.”

“Did you go…” Jamarqui finished his statement with a stare.

Gary bit his lip. “Possibly.”

“Did I not warn you not to go?”

“Something out there is not right.”

“No, not right. That is why I told you to stay away…”

“I didn't understand then and I don't understand now.”

Jamarqui stepped closer. “Listen. Listen to me. Now I will give you a second warning. Do not talk about what you saw. Not to anyone. If you tell the others, there will be more danger. You didn't believe me before. I ask that you believe me now. Forget about what you saw. Leave here. Forget it all like a dream.”

Gary nodded. “Believe me, I want to.”

Gary returned to the other three, who waited for him on the sand. He told them, “I need a drink.”

“I think we all do,” said Rodney.

They secured a private table in the hotel's open café. Even Sam and Carol ordered strong drinks.

“I still have tremors,” said Rodney.