Slipway Grey: A Deep Sea Thriller (12 page)

Grey bit down and severed Mandy in half, taking her head and upper torso in one bite.

Luke reached down and grabbed onto Glenn’s hands, pulling him up on the pier.

The water thrashed as the shark caught in a feeding frenzy devoured his willful slave.

Luke and Glenn watched from above, enchanted at the beauty and the horror of a feeding shark.

“What the fuck, man? Why’d you push me in the water?”

“It was part of my plan,” Luke said, dryly.

“Your plan? Throw me in the water while a man-eating shark is making a beeline to have me for dinner, and then shove Mandy in front just as he goes to bite me? That was your plan?”

“Yeah. So? I had to think quick.”

“So, Einstein. What if that plan hadn’t worked?”

Pissed, Luke said, “Well then, I guess we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, and Mandy would be giving me a blow job.” He forced a sarcastic grin.

“You bastard! I oughta wipe that shit eating grin off your face for putting me at risk like that. But, hey. It worked. Thanks, man.”

“You’re welcome. You know, she almost had me convinced we could make a go of it together. I really loved her, and she had all these wild ideas.”

“What changed your mind?”

“The more she talked, the weirder it got. I realized she was totally fucking nuts just minutes before you showed back up. All those years believing Mandy was this wonderful person was just a lie. She was evil personified. Whatever feelings I had for her died instantly.”

“Well, I’m glad you came to your senses. Still, it must be tough for you.” Glenn patted Luke’s shoulder.

Luke brought a hand up to his chin and slowly rubbed. He sighed a couple of times, and then took in a deep breath. He turned his gaze from the Gulf waters to his buddy. “Say, Glenn.”

“Yeah?”

“Since Mandy’s not around to give me a blow job, it seems only right that you should blow me for saving your life.”

“Go blow yourself.” Glenn shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Believe me, I wish I could.”

“Quit trying to mask the hurt, Luke. It’s too soon. I’ll help you through this all the way.”

Luke lowered his head and cleared his throat, furtively wiping a tear dripping down his left cheek.

The two watched the shark head off into the deep of the Gulf. The universe had lost its balance.

*

You want a drink before we call the police?” Glenn asked as he opened the freezer door and threw a handful of ice cubes into a plastic cup.

“Shit, may as well. I need something to steady my nerves for the million questions we’re gonna get thrown our way in a few minutes.”

Glenn tipped the bottle of vodka and added three fingers worth in each cup. He filled the remaining space with cola and handed one to Luke. The two clinked glasses, toasting to the craziness they’d just survived. The creak of the front door opening startled them, and heads whipped around to see who was coming. A petite Mexican lady walked through the door.

She held a bucket brimming with disinfectant and towels. A pair of rubber gloves hung over the side. Luke and Glenn glanced at one another and smiled. The maid had arrived for her weekly cleaning.

“Ma’am, we’ve got some really bad news,” Luke said.

“Yeah, you’re not going to believe what just happened.” Glenn spread his arms and shook his head.

“Something happened? To Miss Mandy? What
eese
it?”

“Well, it’s kind of a long story. She, uh, she was sick. She—” Luke’s words were cut short.

“She’s a fucking murderer is what she is, or was. Because she’ll never kill anyone again.”

“
Eese
she hurt?”

“Dead. Swimming with the fishes, as they say.” Glenn grinned at his own joke.

The maid shrugged her shoulders and put down the cleaning supplies. “You boys wait right here, I be back.” The maid shuffled off just down the hall and opened a door.

Glenn looked at Luke who just shrugged his shoulders.

The door closed, and the maid rounded the hall back into the kitchen. She raised a gun and fired.

The bullet crashed through Glenn’s head before he could yell in protest. He collapsed to the tile floor, his limbs jerking wildly as his body shut down.

Luke only had time for a pathetic scream before another bullet pierced his chest. He flipped over a chair and came to an awkward landing on the floor, snapping his arm in the process. Tears streamed down his face as his hands pawed the gushing wound.

“Why?” he said, weakly.

“I promised Miss Mandy when she put me in her will that if anything ever happened to her I would avenge her death,” the maid said, and sent a bullet through his skull.

*

She looked over the scene. There would be much work to do today. It wasn’t the first time she had to clean a bloody mess. She was sad that Mandy Rivers had met her untimely, though expected, fate. She knew Mandy was crazy, but the money she was paid for her crime scene cleaning skills and silence was more than she’d make in several lifetimes. The cash was wired to Mexico every week, and she would be headed there to be reunited with her husband, Esteban, as soon as her work was finished.

She’d need to chop the bodies up and throw them in the water. Grey would take care of the rest. Then the cleaning supplies would be put to use. It was going to take some effort, but this would be the last time she’d ever have to clean a house to support her family.

Epilogue

Six-year  old  Cynthia  Sweens  sat  on  the  pier,  bathed  in  pale moonlight. Her bare feet dangled in the water. She did her best to ignore the screams of her mother coming from the house as her father beat her.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she choked back a sob. She raised a hand to her face and felt the swollen lump that had been delivered by a large hand. The water chopped against the wooden structure, and gentle droplets misted her legs. She thought about running away, jumping in the water, and swimming until she was someplace new. A place where people didn’t hurt each other. A place where someone cared about her. She had no one.

She screamed in surprise as a large, rough body passed under her feet. The dorsal fin cut the water and then submerged, disappearing into the inky blackness.

“Mr. Dolphin?” she asked, lowering her face to the water’s edge. Her fingers flicked the surface, coaxing the creature to show itself.

The shark’s large head emerged, and though instinct told her to run away, something tugged at her to stay. This animal meant her no harm, and as it swam around the pier, she placed a hand back in the water. It came to her, allowing itself to be lightly stroked on the head. Its black eyes stared into hers, and she felt a connection she couldn’t explain.

She had found a friend.

“Hello, Mr. Shark. My name is Cynthia, but the people at school call me Cindy. What’s yours?”

The shark’s teeth gleamed in the moonlight, like a strange grin. Cindy heard a faint voice, but no one else was in sight. The shark presented his blunt nose for her to pet. As she ran her hand across the slick skin, a thought came in her mind. “Grey. Your name is Grey.”

The shark swam, allowing Cindy’s fingers to trace the entire length of his body to the tail before he circled back.

“Oh look, you have a birthmark. It looks like the number eight. It kind of looks like mine.” Cindy rolled up her sleeve and revealed a red circular splotch of skin.

Cindy felt safe. Safer than she ever had in her entire life. The fear of daily existence slowly started to melt away. New thoughts and new concepts evolved in her mind.

She heard her mother scream. With her newfound serenity, Cindy was determined to stop that from ever happening again.

The shark nudged her hand for another pat and told her just how to do it.

The End

Read on for as free sample of Gargantuan: A Deep Sea Thriller.

On the Boardwalk

Five o'clock on a California summer afternoon, you bet the Santa Cruz beach boardwalk was busy with tourists.  The boardwalk bustled with citizens enjoying the classic amusement park rides, like the Giant Dipper, Cyclone, Logger's Revenge, and Double Shot.  Across from the vintage rides, the beachgoers were trying to catch what was left of today's sunshine. 

What they would also catch was death.

Surging from the Pacific Ocean, the two-ton creature displaced enough water to cause a rolling tsunami wave to smash into the boardwalk.  Rides were shattered into high-flying tatters by the force of the enormous wave.  Helpless citizens were sucked under the water's wicked power.  Those who were far away enough from the shoreline were screaming and running for their life.  Barbara Hampton, who had been about to relax on the beach, called the police on her cell phone.  Barbara was screaming for the authorities to send help, and send it now. 

What can the police do about this, Barbara thought, even as she heard the dispatcher talking on the other end.  Every ounce of gall drained from her body once she saw the beast surface from the ocean.  The eye really had to take in the enormity for several seconds before recognition of any kind could be made.  This was like no beast she had ever seen before.  The thing was spinning like a thrown disc and traveling high up in the air.  The chopping sounds were deafening as it kept taking flight.  There was only one thing she could compare it to, and that was a giant starfish.  The five prongs were made of thick bone and caked in an ancient greenish-black algae.  The rest of its mass was a drab gray color.  Each prong was slashing through the air, slicing through the tops of skyscrapers, tearing highways into pieces, and colliding into cars and downgrading them into steel pulp. 

Ten city miles were turned inside out in less than fifteen minutes.  Flames were breaking out in pockets of the city and spreading in residential and business districts.  Fire trucks and emergency response crews struggled to help the citizens in need because most of the roads and highways were in shambles.  Emergency crews wouldn't be able to save Barbara.  The flying starfish creature flew above her, eclipsing her in its shadow.  Before the starfish splashed back into the ocean, Barbara's heart stopped dead in her chest. 

Golden Gate Terror

"Whoa, whoa, whoa shit!  Sorry for the crazy driving, folks.  Jesus, did you see that thing?  Holy mother of God!"

Arnold Goodman steered his cab towards the shoulder of the Golden Gate Bridge.  The suspension bridge was jolted by the impact of the raging waves below.  The other cars also pulled over in unison to the side, right after the giant geyser of water spewed from the depths of the Pacific Ocean.  Arnold had seen many things in San Francisco he would rather not have seen, but this, this, topped everything in his prior life experience.

Arnold's patrons, a young couple who couldn't be older than twenty, stared in horror through the window with their eyes bulging from their sockets. 

They won't help me one damn bit, Arnold thought.  Wet behind the ears, dry inside the brains.  Young kids have no common sense or ability to think critically.  Generation dumbasses, that's what they are.  The "do everything for me" generation.  I guess it's up to me to deal with this mess, as always.

"Leave it to me, folks," Arnold said with incredible determination,  "I'm not taking any chances.  Whatever that was, it's not coming near us."

The cabbie dug under his seat for his .45 revolver. 

"Stay in the cab, folks, I turned off the meter and I'll be right back."

Arnold thought the young couple was going to piss themselves.  Leave it to me, he kept thinking.  Leave it to Arnold fucking Goodman to deal with the world's problems.  Like always. Like fucking always. 

The geyser of water stopped spewing.  The moment that happened, something blasted high up in the sky.  Arnold swore it was a government aircraft of some kind.  It was thin, aerodynamic, and made of shiny black material.  Definitely an aircraft, Arnold thought. 

Figures.  This is some kind of government testing ground.  I'll not be a part of any cover up.  I'll shove this .45 up their bureaucratic assholes, and I'll never stop popping rounds until every last one of 'em are dead.  I don't care how many times I have to wipe the shit off my gun.  You can't keep me silent.  I know what I'm seeing, damn it.  Arnold fucking Goodman can't be silenced. 

Arnold realized in the next moment that he was dead wrong about his observations.

This was no government aircraft. 

The black mass was almost as long as the Golden Gate Bridge itself.  It hovered over the bridge waiting.  Arnold could hear air hiss through the numerous holes in its body.  The hermetic pressure caused the water in the San Francisco Bay to boil. 

Arnold fired four shots at the black mass.  He ducked back into his cab when the mass lowered itself closer to the bridge.  The bullets got the floating mass's attention, and it was not happy.

Arnold flipped the meter back on and started driving down the bridge.  "I know when it's time to get the hell out of here.  My watch says go!  Strap your seatbelts on, kiddos!"

The couple in the back was screaming.  Arnold said everything in his customer experience canon to calm them down.  Nothing would work.  Arnold's heart was running a marathon in his chest.  He was almost to the point of losing his cool, too.  

The thing looks just like a giant string ray. 

No damn way.

The suction sound of air, like a hundred airplanes engines about to take off at once, kept increasing in power.  So deafening, Arnold had to stop the car and cover his ears.  Every window in the car burst.  Glass shattered on the hundreds of vehicles scattered about the bridge. 

Arnold ducked down when the hood and trunk of the cab were wrenched upwards and flung aside by the massive surges of air.  Cyclone forces spun vehicles on their wheels. Some vehicles were pitched over the side of the bridge, flung like toy cars.  The bridge became a deadly high-speed destruction derby of chaos. 

Right when Arnold shouted, "Hold on, folks!" the top of the car was peeled back like a tin can.  Arnold was lifted up so hard that it snapped the seatbelt restraining him.  The young couple hadn't worn their seatbelts and were spring-ejected upwards immediately.  Arnold did four upside down, right side up spins.  Massive numbers of people were hovering in the air after being forcibly removed from their vehicles. 

Arnold craned his neck as he was suctioned towards the string ray's body.  Black sleek skin covered its underbelly, as did thousands of mouths with lips the texture of black licorice.  Arnold was sucked head first into one of the champing maws and devoured alive. 

Blood rained down upon the Golden Gate Bridge. 

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