From the Deep (19 page)

“I know you!” Russo said, staring at Mackay.

“Yeah, I punched you in the mouth a few years back, remember?”

“Don’t you realise you’re interfering with government business? This could be seen as terrorism!”

Rainwater laughed, unable to help himself for the sheer absurdity of Russo’s statement.

“You’re the son of the fisherman aren’t you? The one this thing killed.”

“That’s right,” Rainwater said, forcing himself not to break eye contact.

“And yet, you surround yourself with these… people… and protect it. I wonder if your father would be proud.”

“Don’t listen to him, lad,” Mackay interjected. “He’s trying to get inside that head o’ yours. All these government types are the same. This asshole would tell you anything.”

Russo grinned, a slab of brilliant white that seemed stretched a tad too far across his lips.

“Don’t try to push me, you know first-hand how far I will go to get what I want.”

“That sounds like a threat.” Mackay said.

“It is. Move now, or I'll be forced to take action.”

“Unless you can shoot that thing around corners, I’d say we hold all the cards.” Rainwater said.

“Not exactly,” Russo shot back, then gave another greasy smile.

A single rapport of gunfire shattered the still air. Rainwater was aware of it a split second before he felt the sticky warmth of blood and bone as it spattered all over his face. He blinked once, exhaled, blinked again. Ox staggered forward, the upper portion of his skull now missing. The engineer fell, his chest slamming into the rail of the boat, the remains of his head hanging over the edge of the water. There was absolute silence for what felt like an age, which in reality was only seconds. It was only then that Rainwater started to piece together what had happened.

Morrison’s gun was still smoking from the barrel where he had pressed it into Ox’s head a split second before he had fired.

Despite his own close call, Rainwater had never seen actual death first hand before. He saw it plenty on movies or on the news, but none of it prepared him for it happening right in front of him. He could smell the smoke and blood, he could hear the sound of Ox’s brains as they dripped into the sea. He could see the calm indifference in Morrison’s eyes as he turned the weapon on him and Mackay. Most of all, he could hear Russo. He was laughing.

“Like I have said a hundred times already, I always have a plan.”  Russo let his eyes linger on Rainwater, his expression almost goading a response. All Rainwater could concentrate on was the bottomless black hole of the gun barrel which was aimed at his head. He risked a glance at Mackay, a brief flick of the eyes. It seemed the fear that surged through Rainwater had manifested itself as fury in him, and he glared at Morrison with little evidence of fear.

“I’ll fuckin’ kill you for this,” he hissed, and managed a smile that was every bit as wide and sick looking as Russo’s.

Morrison didn’t seem overly concerned, instead he shrugged and trained the gun on Mackay.

“I’m sure you intend to do just that. Right now, I have to insist you move the boat forward like Mr Russo asked.”

“Mr Russo?” Mackay said, still not quite able to drop the grin. “So you are some sort of stooge? His little boat bitch is that it?”

Morrison shrugged. “Don’t be like that. This is business. I do whatever the money pays me to do. Come on, Mac, you knew I was a mercenary when you hired me. It was bad luck for you that he got to me first. Why do you think I made a point of getting in touch with you again? Who else would you have turned to for something like this?”

“Mercenary maybe. I never had you pegged as someone who would stab a friend in the back.”

“I can’t believe you’re surprised. You know what I am. What I do. Surely, you saw this coming. Now please, move the boat forward. Despite what you might think, I really don’t want to shoot you, even if it’s just for old times’ sake.”

“Aye, we have history alright. That’s why I don’t think you’ll do it. Not for money.”

Morrison snorted, shaking his head and smiling. “You always did know me too well, Mac. You were always a good judge of character.”

Still smiling, he turned the gun on Rainwater.

“Now move this fucking boat before I spray this little shit’s brains all over the deck.”

Somehow, he hadn’t passed out. Maybe it was the adrenaline or the desire to survive. Whatever the reason, Greg was still conscious. It had been close. The soft tissues weren’t too bad, but the nerves felt charged with millions of vaults of electricity, as he had sliced through them. Even so, he was still woozy. The knife grinding against bone as he separated his wrist had sounded incredibly loud in his head, and he had to count backwards from ten to keep conscious. Knife blade trembling, he cut through the last of the gristle and was at last free, sinking to the bottom of the cage and leaving a mushrooming cloud of blood behind as if he were some kind of bizarre distress flare. The relief lasted only for seconds until the pain found him, bringing his nerve endings alive with fierce agony. He clutched his bleeding stump to his chest, and sank towards Paul.

Even though the thought horrified him, Greg half hoped he was dead. At least then, he could take his air tanks. However, although his breathing was shallow he was still alive.  He didn’t have the strength to both lift the emergency escape hatch and keep a tight enough grip to be confident that he wouldn’t slip and lose him to the depths. Plus, there was the matter of his own air supply. As tough a decision as it was, there really was no other choice but to go to the surface alone and get some help. He turned towards the hatch handle, and froze.

Ahead of him in the murk, the creature bobbed on its back, its massive jaws partially open. As Greg looked on, its car tyre sized eye flicked open.

Rainwater knew he was about to die. He had always suspected Mackay was a little bit unhinged, but he would never have predicted the response to Morrison’s threat. Rather than do as he was asked, Mackay simply stood his ground and laughed. If it was a bluff, it was the best one Rainwater had ever seen. He only wished Morrison had been unsettled by it, but the gun never wavered, nor did his icy stare.

“Don’t test me. You know I’ll do it.”

Mackay must have seen something in Morrison’s eyes, or maybe got a sense of the danger he presented, because he shifted his weight, and all at once seemed a little less sure of himself. Rainwater was about to tell Mackay to do as Morrison said, as it wasn’t worth getting killed over, when he saw the flicker of movement on the water.

Still woozy from the explosion, the creature had come to in a rage, and attacked the closest thing to it, which happened to be the
Lisa Marie
. Rainwater saw it coming, and was instantly transported back in time. Instead of the sun-baked deck of the
Lisa Marie
, he was in the dark aboard the
Red Gold
, watching the wake come towards him. He blinked, and was back in the present. Neither Morrison nor Mackay had noticed it. They were still trying to stare each other down. It was Russo who broke the silence, and the three words he bellowed was enough to herald in the chaos.

“Here it comes!”

Morrison and Mackay saw the wake just a split second before the boat lurched out of the water.

CHAPTER 40

Russo was twelve years old the last time he was ever truly afraid. It was as his mother lay dying from the cancer that had eaten her alive, and he had first realised he was soon to be an orphan. His father had walked out on them when Russo was a baby, and as he looked down on his broken mother, he had been overcome with an immensely powerful sadness.

“James,” she had whispered from her deathbed as she reached out a trembling, skeletal hand.

He had taken it, fearful her bones could snap if he held her too tightly. The room was quiet apart from the muted sobs of his sister.

“I’ll be gone soon,” she wheezed, “don’t ever let anyone tell you can’t be who you want to be. You can be whatever you want to.”

She had smiled, a flesh covered skeleton with sunken eyes. He could see the defeat in them as much as he could smell the death on her.

“I love you, always remember that.” 

She looked at him, her watery eyes full of expectation.

My God, she wants a reply.

Russo couldn’t understand why it was so hard to formulate simple words. Try as he might, he couldn’t say them. Instead, he simply stared, wishing she would hurry up and die so he wouldn’t have to say those three words that were so alien to him.  He had pulled his hand free of her grip and left the room, not looking back. He wasn’t there when she died, and even though he was sad, it was a distant sadness. It was then he had felt fear, simply because the sorrow was absent, leaving an empty void in its place.

It was that same fear which came over him now, as he saw the creature slam into the
Lisa Marie
, sending Mackay, Rainwater, and Morrison crashing to the deck. Morrison’s weapon fired as he fell, the bullet cutting the air past Russo’s ear with an audible
wssssssss
. Russo flinched, watching as the giant creature angled away from the boat, launching a thirty-foot wall of spray in its wake. The creature moved away from the
Lisa Marie
, which was already listing from the impact. The commotion brought the crew of the
Victorious
out on deck, each of them trying to get a glimpse of the creature. Andrews pushed through the crowd towards Russo.

“What the hell’s going on?” He roared.

“They blocked my shot, and now it’s pissed.” He replied as calmly as if he were discussing an event in the news.

“You have to help them,” Clara interjected, unable to stop staring at the wake left by the agitated creature as it started to turn back towards the boat.

“Not until I get my shot,” Russo said again, showing her the barbed harpoon as if to emphasise his point.

Murmurs from those on deck pulled Russo’s attention back to the water, just in time to see the creature smash broadside into the boat a second time, making deck boards explode as it was spun around, the resulting wake slewing the
Victorious
aside and furthering the distance between it and the
Lisa Marie
. Already wounded, the fishing boat began to slide slowly into the ocean, its bow lifting out of the water as its stern sank. The crew scrambled to stay above the waterline as the creature retreated again, pausing to snag Ox’s body where it bobbed on the surface, swallowing it in a singular bite as it once again raced away and readied a new attack.

“If you don’t help them, they’ll die,” Clara said, and Russo turned to her. All eyes were on him, and he grinned.

“Not until I get my shot.”

“They’re innocent people!” She screamed.

“Innocent? Those people interfered in a government operation. They don’t deserve my help.”

“That’s not for you to decide, they need to be tried in a court.”

Russo’s grin faltered for a second, and then he shrugged.

“Either way, nobody steps foot on this boat until I get my shot.”

“Then do it, take the damn shot and help them!” she said again, watching as the creature prepared to attack.

“I can’t risk missing.  If they hadn’t interfered, none of this would have happened. They only have themselves to blame.”

“Give me the harpoon.” Clara said.

“What do you mean?”

“You say you will help them if you make this shot, then give it to me. I’ll make sure it hits the target. You get those people out of the water.”

“You better not be lying to me.”

“Hurry up and hand me the damn harpoon.” She said, glaring at Russo.

He did as she asked, and was about to instruct her on how to operate it when she deftly swung it onto her shoulder, adjusted her aim and readied to fire.

“You’ve done this before,” Russo said, genuinely impressed.

“Don’t talk to me. Just get those people out of the water before I change my mind.”

Russo turned to Mito and nodded, and the officer ran to the lifeboat station. Clara aimed at the water, allowing her breathing to calm, making sure her feet were spread evenly as she watched the beast circle.

“No games,” Russo hissed over her shoulder, the smell of his minty breath close to her face. “If you miss or try to screw me, I won’t be responsible for what happens.”

She could feel the eyes of everyone on deck boring into her and tried her best to ignore it. The sun was hot on her neck and a trickle of sweat ran down the inside of her nose. She adjusted her aim slightly, paused and spoke to Russo.

“I’m, ready.  You’d better stick to your word.”

“That all depends on you.”

She ignored him, readying herself as the creature charged, looking to finish off the stricken boat, which was rapidly losing its fight to stay afloat.

She relaxed her shoulders and exhaled as the grey streak raced along below the surface. Sunlight glittered off the water, making it difficult to be sure where she was aiming. She squeezed the trigger, hoping against hope to land a fleshy spot on the creature somewhere the barbed harpoon could find purchase. She had expected a deafening roar of gunfire when she squeezed the trigger, but instead, the weapon fired with a hollow pneumatic
Whumph
as the harpoon speared into the water, burying itself in the soft flesh above the creature’s eye. The harpoon sheared through tangled clusters of nerves, igniting pain receptors, which sent the charging beast into agonising spasms. Rearing away from the crippled
Lisa Marie
, the creature dived deep, trying to cool the searing pain of the dart in its flesh.  Clara lowered the spent harpoon, then turned to watch Mito as he loaded its survivors into the lifeboat and winched it to the deck. Clara dropped the harpoon, trying to ignore Russo’s oozing smile.

“Thank you,” he said, clapping his hands together as Rainwater and Mackay were ushered towards Russo. Morrison followed, hands in pockets and smiling as he took his place beside Russo.

Rainwater watched as the bow of his father’s boat sank beneath the waves, leaving only a field of debris to let anyone know it had ever existed.

“Mito, escort our new friends below decks and make sure they stay out of trouble.”

“You can’t do this, they didn’t do anything.” Clara said, glaring at Russo.

“Oh, don’t worry. You’re joining them.”

“You need me.”

“I did,” he said, grinning as he opened a fresh pack of mints and popped one into his mouth, “until you tagged the creature. Mr Morrison will be taking over your duties from now on.”

Mito escorted them away, flanked by two soldiers with automatic weapons. Russo watched them go, and then took a deep breath. Everything was going exactly to plan.

“Okay,” he said, clapping his hands together, “let’s get back to work, shall we?”