Chapter 23
The explosive fire at the Melbourne Harbor Marina had exacted a toll of four lives and 56 boats. The sheriff told the media he suspected arson, but the members of the lagoon serial killer investigation task force knew it went further than that. The fire hadn’t been set merely for destruction’s sake. Professor Swartzman described it as a feeding binge for the bacteria.
“The thiobacillus bacteria thrive off oxidizing sulfur and iron,” the professor told the other task force members as they met around the conference table a day later. “The sulfur produced by burning all that gasoline in the lagoon is much more potent than the sulfur from agricultural waste. It literally converted our fuel into the fuel for its growth.”
“Excuse me, professor,” said Brigadier General Alonso Colon. “You’re talking about these microorganisms like they have a motive and a purpose. I think it’s more likely that this is an act of terrorism and the byproduct is helping the bacteria.”
“Terrorism? By who?” Aaron asked. “Is the Taliban hiding out in Melbourne?”
“Not unless you know something I don’t,” the military officer said with a raised eyebrow. Aaron ducked back in his chair. “I’d call this domestic terrorism. This Lagoon Watcher opposes commerce in the waterways. That would make any marine vessel a target.”
“Mr. Colon, I… I…” the professor started until the military man stared him down with a stern eye. He shook off the stuttering and continued. “General Colon, I know Harry Trainer and he’s a scientist, not a terrorist. When we searched his house, all the biological material came from animals, not people.”
“Yeah, all that means is he’s no idiot,” Skillings said. “I’m sure he has another lab where he does his real research.”
“I’ll admit he’s more than a little off the beaten path in his political views, but he’s not dangerous,” Swartzman continued.” He certainly couldn’t have pulled off all of this. I mean, if he did it, why don’t we see him on the marina video?”
The task force had viewed the surveillance video twice and no one could spot the Lagoon Watcher, his truck or his boat. They did see a bizarre creature that looked like it had sprung loose from the lab in the rouge scientist’s den.
Luckily, the shipyard backed up its video footage offsite. That was about all they had left of their business. The video started with three teenagers pulling into the parking lot in a silver Mercedes coup, which was registered to the father of the young driver, Martin Ricks, Jr. The yacht they entered also belonged to the elder Ricks. He must have kept his liquor there too, because when the kids reappeared on the pier a couple hours later, they were stumbling around all sloshed.
“Bunch of snot-nosed, spoiled punks,” Sneed said as they watched the two teen boys flirt competitively with the teenage girl. “The harbormaster should have done his job and tossed them off the property. Then they’d still be alive.”
The calamity started when three dorsal fins appeared in the water. That normally meant friendly dolphins and that’s how they appeared at first. The girl leaned over the side of the pier for a closer look when something sprayed through the water and struck the pier so hard that the camera shook. The girl fell into the water.
Skillings paused the video and pointed out the crack in the concrete pier. “That’s where the fuel leak started. The kids must have smelt it, and the geniuses still jumped into the water.”
“They wanted to save the girl,” Aaron said. “Hey, I’ve done worse to impress the ladies and I’ve got the scars from sea rocks to prove it.”
“Yeah, but these kids got more than just scars,” Moni told Aaron. She already saw that Aaron would stand up to her ex-boyfriend to catch her eye. She hoped he didn’t have to put his life on the line for her again.
The kid with the long hair caught the girl before Ricks did, but then the dolphins surrounded the two of them. The girl reached out to the marine mammals, expecting some friendly fairy tale dolphins. She got a slap across the face from its tail that spun her head around. A pair of hands emerged from the water underneath the dolphin’s belly, grabbed the girl and dragged her under. Before the long-haired teen knew what had happened, another dolphin seized him in its hands and pulled him down.
The task force watched the abductions over and over again. Each time they looked for another explanation, such as an opening where a diver could have hidden underneath the dolphins. But with the angle that the arms had thrust out of the water, that couldn’t have worked unless the diver had his head inside a dolphin. As nonsensical as it seemed, no one could avoid the conclusion: Those dolphins had arms on their bellies.
“If you can’t help me solve these murders, at least you can say you found a new species, right professor,” Sneed said.
“That’s not the byproduct of evolution,” Swartzman said with his face drained of all color as he stared at the freakish creatures.
“But it might be the byproduct of your buddy’s little laboratory,” Sneed said.
“You’re giving him way too much credit,” Swartzman said. “Tell me, do you think Trainer could cause what happens next?”
Seeing his friends disappear underwater, the Ricks kid dove beneath the surface. With all the gasoline in the water, it must have been a toxic hell down there, Moni thought. Almost a minute later Ricks came up gasping for air and frantically wiping his face. He kept plucking at his eyes like they were full of bees. Whatever he had found down there, it made him abandon his rescue effort and swim for the pier. The mutant dolphins didn’t bother him. They must have cleared out of the way because then another projectile sprayed underneath the water. It bashed into the pier and cracked a pair of yachts into each other. Ricks climbed the ladder onto the pier as the fuel spill worsened. Instead of running to safety ashore, the teen stumbled into his father’s yacht. He staggered out a minute later with his father’s shotgun. From another camera, they saw the harbormaster shouting at Ricks. Even without sound, they knew from his hospital bed testimony that he had told the teen to get off the pier and, when he saw the gun, he warned him about starting a fire. Ricks didn’t pay the shouting man any heed. He cast a long gaze into the fuel-filled water, where the mutant dolphins where spinning in a tight circle like an underwater carousel. He aimed at them for a long time, like he knew the consequences but just couldn’t help himself. Ricks fired. The fuel in the water ignited. The pier soon followed. When the fire crept toward him, the boy didn’t run. He stood there like that burning figure those ravers light during that festival in the desert. Sneed turned off the video before it got too gruesome.
“That ain’t what you call a healthy, well-adjusted young man,” Sneed said.
“Something sick got into his head,” Skillings said. “How else could he go from trying to rescue his friend to lighting up the whole pier in his suicide? Once he went underwater, he changed. Did you see his eyes?”
Skillings went back to the part right before Ricks fired the gun. As he aimed into the water, she froze the frame and zoomed in on his eyes. The footage was grainy and the color not well defined, but his pupils had clearly disappeared. The boy’s eyes went solid purple for a split second before he fired.
“You should do a more technical video analysis,” General Colon said. “It was probably glare.”
“You can analyze it all you want, but I know what I saw,” Skillings said. “Purple-just like the infected gator and the infected bird that Cooper described before he became rat food.”
“That’s nothing but a drunken tale,” Swartzman said. “There are no confirmed reports of animals with purple eyes.”
Moni had fought an infected snake and its eyes didn’t glow, but maybe they never got the chance. The survivor of the gator attack had seemed so sure of every detail about the creature, especially the piercing purple eyes.