‘Hey,’ Liam said, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a muscular forearm and then picking up another box of supplies. ‘Any chance of a little help here?’
‘Yeah, sorry,’ Tyler said, grabbing another one of the boxes and following Liam into the galley. Within the hour, they were underway, Nash piloting the boat, Liam engrossed in his phone, earphones in so he didn’t have to make conversation. Tyler stood out on the back deck by the transom, staring at the white wake left by the boat as it moved into deeper waters. As he watched the land receded into a hazy smudge on the horizon, he found himself thinking about the Megalodon, now only half sure it couldn’t be real.
The initial excitement had waned. The day was hot and sticky, and because of the hangover, the sun wasn’t something Tyler wanted to become too acquainted with, especially with the constant drone of the engine making his headache worse by the hour. Liam had disappeared below decks to his cabin to sleep, and so Tyler joined Nash at the wheel, watching the bow of the boat slice through the gorgeous blue waters. The wheelhouse was wood panelled. In addition to the controls to drive the boat, there were other devices propped on the console. A bank of CCTV monitors displayed blue standby screens. Beside these was a radar screen, their vessel marked in red in the centre of the display. To Nash’s right was the fish finder, its screen a kaleidoscope of ridges and valleys as the under-hull-mounted camera mapped the sea floor. Nash glanced at him as he entered the wheelhouse, then turned back towards the water.
‘How are you finding the trip? Been sick yet?’ Nash asked. He was like a different person now that he was away from the prying eyes of society. He had shed the hat and abundance of layers and was wearing knee-length cargo shorts, a loose white shirt and brown sandals. Tyler tried not to stare at the horrific map of scars on his body, the damage even more visible in the harsh light of day.
‘I’m good, I’ve managed to keep everything on board for now,’ he said, turning his attention back to the ocean.
Nash chuckled. ‘You’re lucky it’s smooth going. If the seas were rough and we were vaulting over six-foot swells, you might be saying something else.’
Tyler approached, standing beside Nash. ‘This looks like a lot of equipment.’
‘State of the art. The very best.’ He nodded towards the blue screened CCTV monitors. ‘Those are for the live drone feeds. When we reach the Devil’s Triangle, we’ll send down the remote control drones. They are attached to the surface by fibre-optic tethers, which was what you and Liam were bringing on board earlier. Because we don’t know what’s down there, the plan is to send those in first and scan the area to see what we’re dealing with.’
‘Yeah? I thought you were just going to put me on the end of a fishing line to bait your shark.’
Tyler meant it as a joke, but Nash wasn’t amused. ‘You didn’t do the research, did you?’ Nash said, staring straight ahead.
‘I… no. I didn’t.’
‘I thought not. If you did, you wouldn’t be so… relaxed.’
‘Look, I’m sorry, I don’t mean anything by it, it’s just… It’s a stretch.’
Nash shrugged. ‘I can’t blame you. Even my own son doesn’t believe it. Like you, he half-thinks I’m a crazy old man and half-thinks there might be some money to be made, so he tolerates my rambling.’
‘Look, it’s not—’
‘It doesn’t matter. People thinking like that isn’t new to me. You should prepare yourself though for me to be proved right. I’ve seen what’s down there, and I know what we have to potentially face.’
‘Look, I’ll be straight with you, I’m not sold on your shark story. I don’t doubt you were attacked, the evidence of that is plain to see. My doubt is your account of the size of the shark. You know, from so low in the water when you were cold and scared, it would be easy for the brain to scale this creature up to something monstrous. I didn’t read up on the Megalodon because I don’t believe it’s down there. Sharks roam, I know that much. It’s unlikely they would stick around in one place for years to protect some gold that they won’t have any awareness of. Now if we can get down there, get the gold you say is on the sea floor and get back to shore without any more shark talk, I’d appreciate it.’
Nash stared at him with his one good eye as if seeing Tyler for the first time. ‘Alright, if that’s the way you want it, that’s how it will be. I won’t mention it again. You’re the one who will be down there, not me.’
‘Exactly. Your son will be, too. I don’t think he’d appreciate hearing this either.’
‘You say it like I hope that thing is down there.’
‘That’s how it sounds,’ Tyler said, curious to see where the conversation went. ‘Seems to me it’s important for you to prove us wrong. Even more than the finding the gold.’
‘That’s not the case. I know what I saw. You think you’re the first to say it was because I was scared or because how close I was to it?’ Nash grimaced. ‘No, I know what I saw. And I’m no fool. I know about these creatures. I’ve read about them, obsessed over them for the last thirty years. I’m not so stupid to think they are guarding their gold. What I do think this Megalodon is guarding is its territory. These creatures were very territorial animals. The area we’re going to is shallow, but it sits on the edge of a deep water chasm frequented by whale pods. I suspect those whales form the basis of the diet for the Megalodon. Why should it leave the area? Its food regularly comes directly to it. It’s a perfect setup.’
‘Wait, I know a bit about whales. They are buoyant. Wouldn’t the remains float to the surface and wash up somewhere? Surely, if someone found a whale carcass that one of these mega sharks have taken a bite out of, then someone would have found one by now.’
Nash chuckled and altered the boat’s course slightly.
‘What’s so funny?’ Tyler asked.
‘How little you know about these things. You ask why the remains wouldn’t show up. Let me answer that for you. When these things have finished feeding, there are no remains left to surface. Nothing goes to waste.’ Nash walked across the wheelhouse to a cupboard. He opened it and took out some books, handing them to Tyler. ‘We’ve got a ways to go yet. It might be worth doing a little reading just so you at least know what to do if this isn’t a figment of my imagination.’
Tyler leafed through the books. They were well-thumbed volumes about prehistoric predators, shark behaviour, and the Megalodon. Tyler considered another sarcastic remark then decided to keep it to himself. He didn’t want to be thrown overboard. Instead, he tucked the books under his arm. ‘Fine, I’ll take a look. If nothing else, I might learn a few things.’
‘You do that.’
Tyler went to leave, then stopped and turned back to Nash. ‘Just one thing. When we get there, to this Devil’s Triangle, what if someone disturbs us there. A passing vessel or the Coast Guard or something. What do we say?’
‘No danger of that. No shipping lanes go where we’re going. It’s essentially out in the middle of nowhere.’ Nash took a dog-eared map and rolled it out on the console. On the map was a crudely drawn triangle in an area of open ocean. ‘This is where we’re heading,’ Nash said. ‘The shipping lanes as you can see are nowhere even close. They used to run through here up until the seventies. All the shipping lanes now run further north. We’ll be undisturbed.’
‘What about those?’ Tyler said, pointing to the two small islands to within the triangle.