‘Where did you get the scalpel?’ Tyler asked, the simple act of speaking taking a herculean effort.
Liam didn’t answer at first. He simply chewed, hands and mouth caked in dried blood. ‘Found a medkit from the boat washed up round the back of the island. Had all this stuff inside. Bandages. Antiseptic. The works. That’s what I tried to explain, but you didn’t understand.’
‘There’s nothing to understand.’
‘I prayed for this. I asked for a sign, some proof that this was how it was meant to go down then boom. The kit washes up with everything I needed. I was going to ask Dad about the leg, to explain to him why it had to come off and that we had the equipment to make sure he survived. Only I was too late. At first, I was upset, but then it occurred to me.’
‘What did?’
‘That his death was a sign too. Some higher power.’
‘You don’t strike me as the religious type.’
‘I’m not saying it was God. I’m not even sure if I believe in that stuff, but you have to admit it. Something has worked in our favour so far.’
Tyler laughed. He couldn’t stop himself. It came out more as a series of dry coughs.
‘What is it? What’s so funny?’
‘Worked in our favour? We are almost killed by a giant prehistoric shark, end up shipwrecked on a fucking rock with no food, you turn psycho and decide to eat your dead father, then to top it off, we lose all our fresh water. Oh yeah, someone is really looking out for us.’
‘This is what we have to do to survive. There is no choice.’
Tyler struggled to his feet, feeling dizzy. ‘And how do we do that? Swim for it? Call a taxi? How does what you’re doing help us? Fucking look at it out there there’s nothing…’ He stopped speaking, sure he was hallucinating. There was a glimmer on the horizon, a white speck which he was certain wasn’t there before. Forgetting all about Liam, he walked to the edge of the rock, cupping his eyes against the sun. He saw it again, a metallic glint on the horizon.
‘Fuck, it’s a boat, there’s a damn boat out there!’ Tyler shrieked, not caring as adrenaline surged through him. He leapt and waved his arms, shouting even though it was unlikely they would be seen. ‘Come on, help me signal for it,’ he bellowed over his shoulder. Liam, however, just sat there and stared, looking from the horizon, to Tyler, then to the bloated remains of his father. His mind was filled with static, like a radio struggling to find a signal. Nothing made sense to him anymore nothing was rational or seemed ordinary. The life he once had, the life before, was gone. It seemed like something he could never get back even if they were rescued. That was when it reappeared, the monster inside, the voice free to speak as it chose without medication to dull it. It told him what was necessary, what the implications were if he didn’t act. He knew in some distant, detached way that what he was being told was wrong, but also that things had already gone too far for him to ever recover from. He listened as the inner voice told him what he had to do and how to do it, and that the decision he was about to make was the best one under the circumstances. He tightened his grip on the scalpel, then lurched to his feet and tackled Tyler from behind, pitching him forward onto the hard rocks, his upper half landing in the water. Liam grabbed the back of Tyler’s head and pushed it under the water, waiting for him to die. Just like the voice had told him to.
II
Captain Adam Carrington might have missed the call for help if not sailing upon the debris field. He and his three-man crew had been leaning overboard the hundred and twenty-foot vessel, visually scanning the floating debris for anything that may be salvageable. His men knew of the legends of the area about the monster shark which supposedly roamed the waters, and to see the floating debris field had initially spooked them. It was only by chance as Carrington was scanning the landscape with his binoculars that he saw the man on the rock outcrop waving his arms. It was clear to him that they were once passengers on the boat which was now floating around their hull and it made him uneasy. The forty-five-year-old skipper lowered the binoculars and turned to his crew.
‘Get in the Zodiac and go bring them in.’
‘We’re too far out. Can’t you get closer?’ said Benton, a grizzled man of fifty with leathery skin who had spent more of his life at sea than on land said. He had seen it all, and yet his pale blue eyes glimmered with fear. ‘I don’t like it out here.’
Carrington didn’t like it either, but he couldn’t just do nothing. ‘I don’t like it either, but we have to bring them in safe.’
‘We could just call the Coast Guard,’ the third crewman said. He was the youngest on the vessel. Stocky and fresh, it was only his second trip.
Carrington considered it, then dismissed the idea. ‘We could, but people would ask why we didn’t do anything to help when we were so close. People out there might be injured. What if it was you out there, Oxley?’
‘I know,’ Oxley said, flicking his eyes to the debris field. ‘It’s just that… Those stories.’
‘Old tales; this is reality. There are people who need our help.’
‘Maybe those stories are true. I’ve heard things about this place, too,’ Benton said.
‘What do you both expect me to do about it? I’ll get as close as I can to the shallows, but then you two will have to go out there and pick them up. That’s the end of it. Get that zodiac ready.’
Benton and Oxley exchanged glances but knew better than to argue. They set to the task, each keeping a close eye on the water. They lowered the Zodiac—almost identical to the one used by Nash, Liam, and Tyler; it was fitted with a steel-framed wheel and throttle unit instead of just the outboard motor to control it—into the water, then stepped in. The fibreglass hull a wall of white at their backs, the ocean stretching in every direction.
‘Alright,’ Benton said, taking charge and moving to the rear of the Zodiac. ‘Let’s get this done.’ He fired up the engine, the motor driving them across the choppy waves. A mile and a half away in deeper waters, the Megalodon sensed the vibrations from the outboard engine and moved to investigate.
Tyler knew he was going to die. His face was completely submerged, nose pressed into the rocks as waves lapped over his head. He should have seen it coming. Liam was unstable and couldn’t be trusted. Now, his lack of foresight would cost him his life. He was too weak to fight, his exhausted body without the energy needed to fend off the attack. Unlike his attacker, he hadn’t eaten to replenish his strength and there was something absurdly funny about it to him in that moment. He would have laughed had his burning lungs not been screaming for air. His hands scrabbled underwater as he desperately searched for something that might help. His hand found a rock, palm-sized, and he picked it up and swung it towards where Liam’s hands were holding him underwater. The rock connected with knuckle, and he heard Liam scream and, more importantly, release his grip. Tyler pushed his head out of the water, coughing as he gulped great mouthfuls of air. Liam was coming back at him, knuckles bloody, teeth gritted in anger. For Tyler, there was no thought. The situation had changed. And it would mean he had to attack to save himself. He lurched to his feet and met his would be killer head on.
The eighty-foot predator moved through the water, it’s immense body gliding with weightless efficiency. It had been stalking a pod of whales for the last four hours when it detected the signal from the Zodiac. The sound was associated with the pain of the explosion when Nash had tried to kill it, and thinking its previous attacker had returned, raced to meet its challenge. Millions of years of evolutionary instinct drove it forward, its body designed by nature to cut through the water with ease as it closed in on the signal. Enraged, and aware its prey was approaching the shallows where it couldn’t follow, the creature rose to attack.