With that, McCormick walked away, leaving her to her preparations and doubt. “So do I.”
The absolute void experienced during a night dive always made Andrea think it’s what being in space would feel like, except for the external pressure. The cold and the emptiness, devoid of any visible light, caused eyes to strain and colors to emerge. The depths of the ocean seemed much more ominous at night, though what she’d seen that day, in crystal clarity, chilled her more than the dark water. The lonely expanse hiding dangers below tempted her to reconsider, to give credence to her fears, but she pushed them out of her mind and kicked harder. She imagined herself as a torpedo, mindlessly seeking its target. She pushed forward, not keeping track of time. It wasn’t until her mind registered the slap of waves upon a hull that she realized she’d bridged the gap between the two ships.
She’d made it.
Finding the hull with her hand, she kept one hand against the smooth exterior while kicking her way toward the back of the boat. She’d board where the crew had staged the great fishing excursion. She kept her ears keenly aware to the sounds of the sea, listening for the roar of engines. As she took action, her fears and doubts faded, to be replaced by an adrenaline rush that gave her strength and an unwavering determination. She felt she could swim throughout the night if need be.
Suddenly the hull next to her lit up like a UFO’s teleporter beam. She scurried from the light like a frightened cockroach, sure she’d been discovered. After taking several deep breaths from her regulator, she calmed herself enough to realize the light was coming from a window on the side of the hull-an underwater viewing port. Slowly, Andrea swam a few feet away from the hull, so she’d be less illuminated, and peered into the room.
The massive chamber on the other side of the glass was like none she’d seen before. It almost appeared to be an aquarium, but the stillness of the creatures painted on the curved walls spoke otherwise. There, at the center of the room were two extravagant-looking chairs, a small table holding a bottle of brandy, and two glasses. A burst of bubbles shot from her mouth as she saw Atticus and Trevor Manfred heading for the chairs.
They sat together and were speaking calmly. She tried to read their lips but could only make out a few words…“tomorrow”…“torpedo”…“nuke”? Andrea was sure she’d misread the last word as it was so ridiculous and had come from Atticus’s mouth. Moving closer, yet careful to stay out of direct view, Andrea attempted to see their lips more clearly. If she could find out where Atticus would be, she’d have a much easier time locating him on this behemoth of a ship. She knew she was too close when her reflection came into view. She slowly moved sideways, careful not to move too quickly. As she moved, another reflection filled the void where hers had been.
The sight of it made her scream, expelling her regulator, and flail madly.
The brandy slid down Atticus’s throat, warming his insides and calming his nerves. He smiled as Trevor poured him a second glass. “You know you’re going to get me addicted to this stuff.” Atticus downed the second shot. The alcohol and pleasant atmosphere of the underwater sitting room were having the intended effect of soothing the raging soul of a man who just watched his daughter get eaten alive. They’d watched the video over and over, yet found nothing, aside from fueling Atticus’s rage, that would offer them any aid in killing the sea serpent.
“Every good man has a flaw,” Trevor said with a smile and drinking his second shot as well. “Tell me, then, what does my intrepid hero have planned for the morrow? Hmm?”
“I’ll need the sub.”
Trevor crossed his legs and perched his hands daintily on his knees. “Yes, you mentioned that earlier.”
“Alone.”
A single eyebrow arched high on Trevor’s head. “While I share your desire to see Kronos dead, I would very much like to see the event take place.”
“I’ll drive it to the surface in the sub, where you can hit it with whatever big guns you’ve got hidden on board.”
Trevor grinned. “And if the weapons on the sub fail to push the creature onward and upward?”
“Then it will chase me to the surface.”
“Sounds like a fool’s errand.”
“It will work.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“You mean if it eats me?”
Trevor offered a feeble nod.
“Then I’ll use the mininuke and send us both to hell.”
“Ahh yes. You know that was designed to be a long-range weapon; but I suppose it would function well as a self-destruct mechanism.” Trevor sighed long and deep. “You will, of course, do me the common courtesy of warning us before detonating a nuclear device? Will you not? We would need time to steer clear. It may be a small charge, but it will create a sizeable splash.”
“I’ll wait until my last breath.”
After chewing on his lower lips, Trevor let out a chuckle and slapped his knee. “You do know how to raise the stakes don’t you! Very well then-”
An enormous collision reverberated through the room, sending Atticus and Trevor immediately to their feet.
“Are we under attack?” Trevor asked eyes wide.
When Atticus saw it, he knew they had nothing to fear. He pointed to the window with a view of the dark undersea kingdom. There, chomping his jaws on something indeterminable was Laurel, the twenty-eight-foot great white shark.
“Ahh,” Trevor said as he straightened his rumpled black turtleneck. “Laurel, you naughty fish. You nearly caused me to soil myself.”
Atticus moved closer to the window, watching Laurel devour whatever was in her mouth. “What’s she eating?”
“Late-night snack I suppose. One never knows.”
28
Under The Titan-Gulf of Maine
Pain wracked Andrea’s body as her insides tore.
She’d moved so frantically to avoid the freight train of a shark that she’d pulled several muscles in her legs, arms, and chest. But the most painful of pulls came when the great white locked its jaws upon her fin, nearly taking her toes off, and yanking it from her foot. With the giant’s jerk, the muscles of her right leg stretched like the strings of an over-tightened harp.
If not for the shark’s total dedication to devouring the rubber fin, breaking away would not have been possible. Even then, her chances of escape remained slim as she feebly kicked her way toward the back of the Titan, relying on one bare foot and one finned foot to propel her forward and outrun the ocean’s top predator.
As she kicked, a burn filled her chest. She’d been holding her breath. Worse than that, she had yet to replace the regulator that she’d spat out when she screamed. Reaching back for the regulator caused multiple fresh muscle pulls to protest painfully, but she pushed past the pain and found the regulator hose dangling from her air tank. As the regulator met her lips and she took a deep breath, her strength returned. But she was nowhere near the stern of the Titan. If the shark gave chase, she’d never make it, injuries or not.
She dived under the Titan in an attempt to remove herself from the shark’s field of view. In the end it wouldn’t help much, but she refused to make an easy meal of herself. Sharks had evolved to sense their prey using more than eyesight. They could smell a drop of blood a quarter mile away. More than that, the shark’s ampullae of Lorenzini, jelly-filled canals in its head and snout, could detect the electrical fields emitted by all living things, especially panicking, thrashing prey trying to escape.
Andrea doubted the shark had ever lost track of her, but she had no other recourse.
Upon reaching the bottommost portion of the hull, Andrea discovered something that lent her hope. A second portal, extremely large, glowed at the center of the lower hull. If it turned out to be another viewing port she’d be eaten for all to see, but if it was an open bay.