Hungry Darkness: A Deep Sea Thriller (5 page)

Chapter Nine

Gabe made it back to Caye Caulker, ate a plain, sad cheese sandwich at home, packed up his gear, and was back out at the dock half an hour before his clients showed up. Despite accomplishing all he had to accomplish, he felt weird, acting like an automaton caught in a perpetual haze. The giant tentacle and the massive beast that was attached to it occupied his mind at all times.

Out in the water, Gabe went over the safety instructions with his clients and his mind focused on making sure they had a safe, fun time. Then, as soon as he pulled up to the dock, got his money, and saw the two couples walk away from him and climb into their car, his brain went back to the cave and the monster that was now apparently living in its murky depths. He had to find it and somehow kill it, and now that he was out of the office and the reality of what he had to do was hitting him straight on, he wished he could return to the office, hand over the check for $5,000 Suarez had given him, and tell them they could find someone else to star in their real-life horror movie.

The he thought about how much breathing room he’d have with all that money in his bank account and immediately knew the check was not going back into that man’s chubby hands.   

Instead of keeping up the silent debate in his head, Gabe cleaned the gear they’d used with a hose and then packed everything up. He threw all the equipment in his car and drove home, already spending some of the money that wasn’t even in his account yet.

As soon as he got home, Gabe turned on his laptop, a thick black dinosaur he’d purchased used back in 2006, waited for the damn thing to snap out of its perennial slumber, and sent his friend Emanuel an email.

Emanuel worked for the University of Belize, which was located an hour from Belize City, in Belmopan. However, instead of working in the main campus, the man had a little shack on the coast where he brought in students from the marine biology program and taught them how to conduct real research. They’d met when Emanuel hired Gabe to take him out fishing for sailfish and black grouper because he was researching their health in the area and trying to get a sense of the size of their local population. As the man measured and tagged fish, they started talking, and once Gabe told Emanuel about the weird fishes he saw from time to time around The Great Blue Hole, one of the best scuba diving spots in world, the researcher gave him his contact information and offered to pay for any strange specimens he brought his way in good condition. Since then, the two had met on a few occasions, with Gabe delivering strange, deep sea species, two of which had never been recorded before. Now Gabe needed to talk to the man about the thing in the cave without giving away too much information, and a simple email was the best way to get in touch with Emanuel, who seemed to always have his phone or laptop nearby when he was in the lab.

After he’d sent the email asking about what kind of octopodes could be found in and around Caye Caulker and how big they could get, Gabe got up and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He’d taken two sips when his computer made a sound letting him know he had a new message.

Thankfully, instead of single Christians looking for love, magic boner pills, or some Nigerian mogul in desperate need of a bank account to drop a few millions, the email was from Emanuel. The man offered no answers to Gabe’s questions and instead asked him if they could meet for coffee or a beer the next day. Gabe agreed and wondered if the professor knew something about what was going on and feared communicating it through email.

Gabe replied saying he’d visit Emanuel at his shack, and there better be some cold beer waiting for him. The marine biologist replied with a little image of a frosty beer mug filled to the brim and with a bit of foam cascading down its side. It made Gabe thirsty.

Chapter Ten

Emanuel’s lab was a few miles north of Belize City, stuck in a thin strip of land that stood between the ocean and the Belize River. According to the marine biologist, he’d chosen the location because it allowed him to be surrounded by both freshwater and saltwater, but Gabe knew the location had more to do with low rent than with the bodies of water surrounding it.

The two men walked into the lab and sat down on cheap plastic chairs, their elbows propped on a white picnic table that sometimes doubled as a dissection table whenever someone brought in a particularly large specimen. Gabe had spent enough time around the scientist to know that he was either worried or scared, and neither option sat well with him considering what had brought him to visit him.

“I have a few questions for you, but you could’ve answered them via email and saved me the trip here, so I know you also want to talk about something. You wouldn’t make me come all the way out here to shoot the shit over a few cold beers,” said Gabe.

“You’re absolutely right,” replied Emanuel. “In fact, I think I know why you got in touch with me yesterday.”

“Go ahead. Take a guess then,” said Gabe.

“No, I don’t like those games. Just tell me what you saw.”

“What I saw?” Gabe was puzzled, and feeling that way in a place where he thought he was coming into with the upper hand came as a surprise.

“Yeah, Gabe, you’re not the only fisherman and tour guide I deal with. I’ve heard stories of guys going out there in the water and never returning home. You know Pablo?”

Manuel didn’t stop talking to give Gabe a chance to reply and simply carried on as if he hadn’t asked a question. Gabe didn’t know the man Manuel was asking about, so he let him ramble on.

“He lives in north Caye Caulker; fishes for a living. Well, he came in the other day with a black deep-sea fish and a story about a fellow fisherman named Emilio who disappeared and left behind a severed arm. He was bummed because apparently Emilio left behind a wife and four kids. Who the hell has four kids nowadays? Anyway, then I heard a secondhand story about two guys fishing out by the reef and never returning. Their boat hasn’t been found yet. Then, just this morning, a guy from farther up north who was on his way to selling some fish dropped by to ask me how big an octopus could get and proceeded to tell me he was out fishing with his son, and just after something destroyed the giant grouper he had on the line, the kid started screaming something about a huge tentacle exploring the side of the boat. He says he moved over to take a look and spotted a tentacle as big around as his torso moving along the side of the boat. He fired up the engine and got the hell out of there. You could see it in his eyes that he wasn’t lying. Whatever he saw out there, it scared the shit out of him. Then I get an email from you asking about the size of octopodes around here. I’m guessing whatever brought those men here with their stories is the same thing that brings you here. Am I right?”

Emanuel had hit Gabe with a blitzkrieg of words and information. As far as he’d known, this was something that only a few people knew about, and there had only been four victims. Now there was a sighting, rumors going around, scared fishermen asking questions and telling stories, and the possibility of a second victim. There was also the possibility of a body, or pieces of one, somehow making their way out of the cave. No wonder the government wanted to put a stop to this immediately. If things got worse and word reached the media, the whole tourism infrastructure could take a big hit. Maybe a fatal hit. Belize and its residents made a lot of money by taking people out into water. There was an entire economic system built around the salty liquid and the many things that could be done in and on it. Fishing and diving trips affected hotels, bars, restaurants, stores, taxis, and everything else near the coast. Tourism paid for Gabe’s rent and food. If people were scared of going in the water, everything around it could collapse. That’s why they had called him and told him that costs were not a thing to be concerned about if he could take care of the problem quickly.

“I’m not gonna lie to you, Emanuel, you’re right,” said Gabe. “I’m here because I want to know about whatever is out there. I’ve heard there’s an…animal out there I should be worried about given all the time I spend in the water. So, yeah, I came to you because you’re the expert. So, tell me, can an octopus really get that freaking big?”

The marine biologist shook his head twice before speaking.

“Listen, Gabe, the Giant Pacific Octopus can reach a radial span of 20 feet and weight up to 100 pounds, which is certainly big, but they’re more suited to colder waters and have never been found around here. Also, their arms are large, but not as large as what the fisherman described to me. And they certainly aren’t big enough to sink a damn boat or to reach out from the water, grab a human, rip its arm off, and then drag them down into the water. That just doesn’t happen, Gabe. Not even with giant squid. Whatever these people are talking about, or running into if the stories are real, has to be big enough to pull those things off, and that octopus either doesn’t exist or has somehow managed to stay hidden until now.”

“So you’re telling me that whatever’s out there is not an octopus? You think there’s some weird monster living in the reef and feeding on the locals?”

Gabe couldn’t tell Emanuel about the video he’d seen, but the giant arm flying at the camera was playing in a loop in his brain. He’d seen only a part of the animal, but he’d bet the check that was still sitting in his wallet that the thing that killed Ayres and his crew was an octopus.

“No, what I’m telling you is that whatever’s out there might be a new species or subspecies of octopus, something that we haven’t seen yet because they’re very rare or their habitat is down at an incredible depth or because they’re usually cave dwellers, or with everything that we dump into the water, it’s a new mutation. In any case this one, for some strange reason, is now hunting out of its habitat and way out of what’s considered usual fare for his species. Also, an octopus doesn’t eat that often, but this one seems to be hungry all the time. If these stories I’ve been hearing had piled up over a year or two, fine, I wouldn’t worry as much about it, but this thing apparently wants to feed every night. If it really is as large as the fisherman said it is, we’re looking at an animal with three very large hearts demanding food, enough strength to destroy most boats out there with its arms, and a beak capable of crushing your skull in a second.”

Emanuel stopped talking abruptly and looked at Gabe. His eyes had gone a little wild while he spoke. It was obvious the man was passionate about what he was talking about, as well as scared and excited in equal manner. The man was all about the ocean and its creatures. Knowing about the mysteries beneath the waves was far more important to him than politics. Gabe knew that, and he also knew thinking about it now was only a way to rationalize what he was about to do. The real reason for it was that he felt very alone in the face of something that was a few notches above scary and overwhelming.

“I’m gonna tell you a secret, but it can’t leave this lab,” said Gabe.

Emanuel leaned closer to him. The realization that the man sitting across from him was not entirely ignorant about what was going on obviously surprised the scientist.

“There was a man. Something Ayres,” said Gabe. “I’m blanking on the name, but the last name was Ayres. Anyway, he received one of those explorer grants that locals never get and used it to go down into Giant Cave and open up a new passageway. Forget about how he did it, but the space he opened up allowed him to go deeper into the cave than anyone had gone before. You think whatever ate those fishermen could have come from down there?”

“The answer is I don’t know, man. Everything in my head tells me those dimensions and aggressive behavior are impossible for a cephalopod, but the truth is that I’ve had things come in bags through that door that laugh in the face of everything science thinks it knows. Maybe this thing somehow got trapped in the cave, and this guy you’re talking about let it out. I don’t know! Could an octopus living in a predator-free environment with an unlimited food supply go on living for an inordinate amount of time? The answer, again, is I don’t know. Could be. You see, octopodes usually have a relatively short life span, with some smaller species living only between six months and a year, while larger species like the Giant Pacific Octopus I was telling you about can live up to five years. The thing is, their growth rate is crazy, so if one managed to live to around a decade or so and was feeding constantly, there’s no telling how big it could get. Octopodes eat until they’re satisfied and grow accordingly. An octopus that lived longer than usual and had all the food it needed would eventually turn into a giant with an appetite to match. It just never happens, but in theory, it could.”

Gabe was digesting everything the marine biologist was saying. In a way, it made the creature a freak of nature, something mysterious and unheard of that came from the bottom of the ocean, a monster like the ones ancient seamen would describe whenever they came across something they’d never encountered before. On the other hand, the scientist’s words also made the unseen monster something that belonged to science, a simple overgrown animal that could be killed just like its smaller cousins could be killed. The first thing scared Gabe a lot. The second made him think that maybe there was a chance he could pull this off without getting his body crushed by a massive, angry leviathan.

“Okay, so maybe we’re only dealing with an overgrown freak. Here’s my next question for you: how do I kill it?”

The moment the question was out of his mouth, Gabe realized there was a chance Emanuel would want to capture the octopus alive or maybe simply want to protect it in the name of scientific research. Instead, the marine biologist leaned forward again and ran his right hand through his full head of unruly, sun-bleached curls.

“This won’t be as easy as killing a fish, man. Fish are dumb, but octopodes are the brains of the ocean. They can solve problems, figure out how to get out of bad situations, and recognize when they’re in danger. One of the reasons they’re so damn hard to keep as pets is that they have a knack for figuring out how to break out of supposedly octopus-proof tanks. Hell, they can even open jars. It won’t be as easy as sending down a baited hook, waiting for it, and then pulling him out and whacking him in the head. You can do that with fish, but not with a cephalopod. You’re gonna have to outsmart this thing. You’re gonna have to turn yourself into the bait, and then take care of it.”

Gabe realized he had been expecting a better answer, something that allowed him to feel like the hunter and not the hunted. In fact, he had been expecting something along the lines of “use poison” or “get him on a hook, and you can easily drag him to the beach with your boat and let him die there.” Instead, Emanuel had given him the opposite of that and now sat there looking at him, expecting a reply. All Gabe could think about was that, as a fisherman, the last thing in the world he wanted was to become bait.

“I don’t know how to go about this, man,” said Gabe. “To be honest, I’m not all that comfortable turning myself into an octopus treat. There has to be another way. Maybe we can put poison inside a bunch of fish and drop them all over the reef and…”

“And kill anything and everything that comes into contact with your fish? That’s a fucking stupid idea. A hell of a lot of people, including you the last time I checked, lived out of what the reef provides. You can’t throw poison around the reef and hope that the animal you’re aiming for finds your bait. Plus, if this beast is really coming to the surface and eating people, both of which are rare occurrences for his species, he probably won’t be on the lookout for anything smaller. It’s just…”

“Okay! I hear you. Forget I said anything along those lines. Can’t I just…get it close to the boat shoot it then? Isn’t there some place on that thing’s body where a harpoon or a bullet would do the trick?”

“An octopodes’ brain is located between its eyes. If you can land a few shots in that general area, I think you could take him out. The thing about shooting them is that mass of their bodies contains no organs. Everything that matters is contained in its mantle, and while shooting a huge octopus in its mantle would be easy given its size, there’s no way to know what you’re hitting in there, so you could be taking him out or just making him angry. Odds of the latter being the case are much higher than I feel comfortable with. Also, I don’t think you’re taking into consideration the fact that if you’re close enough to try to shoot him between the eyes, he will be close enough to do whatever he damn well pleases with eight ridiculously powerful arms that are God knows how long. I mean, think about a regular octopus for a second. It feeds on mollusks and whatever else it can get a hold on. It uses its arms, which are mostly made up of muscle, to crush shells. Now multiply that…by a fucking lot. The result of that is a beast with arms that can probably wrap around your boat and snap in half with the same ease you snap a toothpick in half, not to mention what it can do to human flesh and bone.”

Gabe had already been uncomfortable with turning himself into bait, and that feeling only worsened with each sentence that came out of Emanuel’s mouth. Instead of helping, the scientist was adding worries to his already heaping pile of them.

The two men sat there looking at each other as if the solution to their problem was hiding somewhere in their eyes. Then Gabe had an idea. Shooting a very large octopus between the eyes with a gun while gigantic suckered arms lashed out at him sounded like a suicide mission, but if you added two more men and three powerful shotguns to the equation, things started to look a bit better.