33
The Titan-Gulf of Maine
A loud, angry thumping pulled Atticus from his sleep. He sat up quickly and found the bed empty. Andrea was gone. The banging continued, and flashes of Remus pummeling Andrea sprang into his mind. He leapt from the bed and vaulted into the living room where he found Andrea reaching for the door.
“Hold your horses,” Andrea said as she opened the suite door.
Atticus slid to a stop behind Andrea as the door opened to reveal O’Shea, dressed in his black priest’s clothing. His eyes opened wide as he took in Andrea’s form, standing in one of Atticus’s Navy T-shirts. It fit her loosely, but it was clear she wore nothing but panties underneath.
“Holy…” O’Shea whispered before Andrea’s voice diced his unpriestly fantasies to ribbons.
“And what kind of priest are you supposed to be?” Andrea grumbled, before moving to close the door on O’Shea.
“Hold on,” Atticus said as he approached, wearing only his boxers. “He’s not exactly a normal priest, and you’re not exactly dressed like a nun. Besides, he saved your life.”
Andrea shot Atticus a confused look.
“He tipped me off that you had been captured,” Atticus said.
Andrea offered O’Shea a half smile. “Then I owe you my thanks.”
“Think nothing of it,” O’Shea said, “Just do me a favor and put on some clothes. I may be a priest, but I’ve yet to be castrated.”
Andrea smiled and left for the bedroom.
As soon as she was gone, O’Shea punched Atticus lightly on the shoulder. “You devil. A regular action hero, saving the day and getting the girl.”
“Nothing happened,” Atticus said.
“Sure,” O’Shea said with a lopsided grin that told Atticus he’d never believe anything other than the two had been up all night having sinful sex.
Only then did Atticus notice that O’Shea was slightly out of breath and sweating. “Did you come by for a reason?”
“Oh! Right.” O’Shea said. “It seems we’ve located Kronos again. Same pattern as yesterday, following the fish. Trevor thinks it’s a feeding pattern and that it will rise again today around the same time as yesterday.”
Atticus squinted in thought. “It’s possible. Daily routine isn’t uncommon in many animals, but ocean predators are typically opportunistic feeders because it’s not always certain when the next meal will be found. Then again, I doubt this thing has any trouble finding something to eat, so a routine of feeding might make sense.”
When Atticus finished speaking, O’Shea’s face turned curious-squinted eyes, pursed lips.
“What?” Atticus said.
“I was expecting a mad dash to the bridge, followed by a quick dive in Ray to face and kill the beast, not hypotheses from an oceanographer. Beauty, it seems, truly can kill the beast.”
Andrea was suddenly at Atticus’s side, fully dressed in her shorts and blue T-shirt. Her feet were bare, as she’d worn no shoes, only her flippers. “If you’re going to do this, get dressed, and let’s get it over with.” She shoved Atticus’s clothes into his arms and moved past O’Shea into the hallway.
O’Shea smiled. “Or not.”
“Which way to the bridge?” Andrea asked.
“I’m not sure Trevor-”
Andrea blew past him.
O’Shea looked at Atticus questioningly. Atticus shrugged. “She signed a waiver.”
Andrea never slowed. Atticus fumbled with his pants as he quickly attempted to pull them up. “Better follow her,” he said to O’Shea. “Keep her out of trouble.”
O’Shea moved to follow Andrea, then paused. “Where are you going?”
The lightness that had been in Atticus’s voice disappeared. “I’m going to kill it.”
“Heading straight for Ray?”
Atticus nodded, as Andrea’s thumping footfalls on the stairs reverberated down the hallway. “Keep her out of trouble while I’m gone.”
O’Shea nodded, then ran after Andrea. “Godspeed, Atticus” he shouted back before heading up the stairs.
As Atticus, fully dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and sneakers, tore off down the hall in the opposite direction, he doubted even God could help him. He would become the devil himself, death and destruction incarnate. As he ran toward the stairwell that would take him into the depths of the Titan, each step quickened his pulse and charged his rage. He would soon be a perpetual-motion machine of pure hatred, and it would fuel his mad quest to kill a creature that shrugged off a titanium harpoon as though it had been a flicked toothpick. Had anyone been in the stairwell as Atticus descended, they would have mistaken for a wild creature, grunting savagely, on the hunt.
It wasn’t far from the truth.
O’Shea burst onto the bridge to find Trevor and Andrea laughing over a cup of coffee. Trevor noted the concern on O’Shea’s face. “Come to keep me in line, Father?”
“I just…”
“Fear not, good man, I am not immune to the charms of a woman whilst she is a guest aboard the Titan. Freed of her burden to the U.S. government, she’s rather a delight.” He clinked his mug with Andrea’s and took a sip.
Andrea met O’Shea’s eyes briefly and rolled her own, silently letting him know the feeling of kinship was far from mutual. In fact, O’Shea knew from experience that Trevor’s own benign assertions were simply a ruse meant to befriend an adversary before he moved in for the kill…sometimes literally. He’d heard enough confessions to have no doubts about that.
“Sir!” the captain shouted. “We’re tracking the creature, but now there’s something else, something smaller, but-”
“Yes, yes,” Trevor said. “Our hero has taken the call as we knew he would.”
Andrea straightened. “What?” She looked at O’Shea. “Where’s Atticus?”
He pointed to the green screen the captain stood over. It displayed several small dots representing fish or other small sea creatures. A hazy large blob could be seen, followed by an immense mass. Moving toward the larger of the two readings was a small oval. Trevor stood next to Andrea and pointed at the fast-moving oval.
“You see? Atticus has decided to meet his fate head-on.” He traced the direction the oval was heading straight out. It met with the larger blob. Trevor tapped it. “He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.” Trevor smiled wide and gazed at Andrea through crazed blue eyes. “Beware Kronos. For the monster is now hunting you!”
Andrea stood silently, her feelings of safety now far removed.
“You’ll be happy to know,” Trevor said to Andrea, “that we planned ahead for Atticus’s lone assault.” He flicked a switch, activating a panel of five monitors at the back of the bridge. Four showed a view from each side of the submersible, providing a 360-degree view. The fifth showed the sub’s interior, where Atticus sat, wearing a scowl and a sinister gaze.
“Can we speak to him?” Andrea asked, attempting not to sound overly eager.
“Indeed, but we won’t, lest we cause the locomotive to falter in its course.” Trevor said. “Atticus will meet his destiny as he wished-on his own.”
Remus entered the bridge through one of the outer doors, wearing a bright orange Hawaiian shirt and a grin. He glowered at Andrea for a moment, then took the captain’s position behind the helm.
“As we all do,” Trevor finished, fixing Andrea with a suddenly serious gaze. “Remus, commence the chase.”
O’Shea fought the urge to retch. He knew Trevor well enough to realize that Andrea wouldn’t survive the day if Atticus didn’t. If Atticus didn’t survive, he needed to find a way to get Andrea off the Titan. He had no idea how he’d accomplish such a task. And so, for the first time in his life, he prayed-not offering the sort of prayer he’d concocted over the years for Trevor’s benefit, but an honest-to-goodness prayer to the God of the universe, whoever that might be.