David waved to the reenergized crowd, then climbed over the starboard rail, his rubber-soled shoes slipping along the wet surface. "Newman, hand me that fishing gaff, then hold on to my belt so I don't fall in."
"I need to check the array."
"You'll check it in a minute. First I want to hook the bait rope."
Michael Newman handed him the reach pole, then grabbed him about the waist. "This is a mistake. The Nothosaur should be dragging the bait, not us."
"We need them to cut off the plesiosaur's escape."
"Wake up, Caldwell. Sonar says the creature's fifty-two feet long. That's almost twice the size of this rickety old tub."
"Will you relax. Once it enters the bay, we can always cut the rope. You eggheads worry too much."
"At least we know better than to be playing with an aluminum reach pole out on the water during a lightning storm."
"Chill, mom." David leaned out, slapping the hook end of the fishing gaff at the buoy's submerged rope. "Got it, first try, too. Here, grab the pole while I climb back over, and don't lose it, it's a lot heavier than it looks."
Gripping the aluminum pole, Newman pulled the hooked rope toward him. "Geez, it weighs a ton. What's on the end of this?"
"Dead cow. Hoagland sawed off its legs so it would bleed a nice trail. Here, help me guide the rope back toward the stern, then we'll tie it off."
Struggling with the gaff, it took them another five minutes before they gained enough slack to loop the rope around a metal cleat.
Newman wiped his wet hands on David's sweatshirt. "There. You can cut the line to the buoy without me, I'm checking the array." The engineer reentered the pilothouse, searching the sonar grid.
The red blip was gone.
"Not good."
"What's not good?" Brandy asked.
"I lost the monster. It disappeared somewhere along the shoreline."
"So find it." She pushed down on the throttle, feeling the Nessie III's engine strain to drag the dead cow through the water.
"I can't find it!" Newman snapped back. "Must've slipped into a blind spot along the western slope." The engineer's eyes widened as the blip reappeared. "Oh God, there it is! Jesus, it's already in the bay!"
"What?"
"It's in the fucking bay! Caldwell, cut us loose!"
"What?"
"Cut us loose!"
"Are you crazy? I just—"
The Nessie III lurched sideways as an immense force snatched the bait and dragged it into deeper water.
The wheel was wrenched from Brandy's hand, the Nessie III pulling hard to starboard, its keel half out of the water.
Brandy fell, as did the sonar array, Michael Newman with it. Tumbling on his back, he slid out the open pilothouse door and smack against the submerging starboard rail as the boat continued to roll.
David grabbed for the bait rope, which was all he could do since he had no knife to cut it with. As the starboard rail dipped into the water and the crowd roared somewhere off to his right, he glanced over his shoulder, shocked to see the port side of the Nessie ///blotting out the storm clouds as it began its surreal topple towards him.
David dove underwater seconds before the capsizing boat completed its 180-degree roll.
Brandy could only curl in a ball and cover her head as the pilothouse went topsy-turvy around her. She somersaulted blindly across her instrument panel, then was struck by a freezing wall of water that burned her skin.
The flooding cabin creaked and groaned, blanketing her in darkness.
On the banks of Urquhart Bay, thousands of onlookers stood, yelling and gesturing and snapping photos as the Nessie III capsized. For several adrenaline-pumping moments, the boat's hull was forcefully dragged sideway through the water, and then the cleat tore free, releasing the vessel.
The metal clasp skimmed across the surface. As it sank, it caught several loops of the heavy fishing net that, moments earlier, had been tied off atop the pilothouse roof, dragging it with it.
The bow of Calum Forrest's speedboat bounced erratically across the dark surface, spraying me every few seconds with cold water. Ahead, I could see the lights outlining Urquhart Bay while on my laptop, I saw the red blip reappear as it entered David's pen.
Moments later, my heart skipped a beat as the Web link shut down.
Michael Newman surfaced, wheezing and gagging. The engineer was freezing, the frigid water locking his muscles. His mind in shock, he considered swimming the three hundred yards to shore, then he saw the current created by the circling fishing net and decided maybe it was better to just stay right where he was.
Brandy was still in the submerged pilothouse. Despite being in total darkness, she knew her boat like the back of her hand, and it only took her a few seconds to locate the inverted cabin door and swim free.
David surfaced thirty feet from the capsized hull, his only thought, to prevent the monster from escaping. Looking back, he was excited to see the Nothosaur blocking the exit of the pen, while the crane on the construction pontoon lowered the first of the remaining six lengths of fencing into place.
Beautiful.
Satisfied, he turned, swimming back toward the capsized boat, never noticing the partially submerged fishing net closing on his right. Without warning, he was swept away, loops of heavy rope ensnaring his right arm and both ankles.
"Hey! What the fah—"
An intense force, like that of a grade four rapids, dragged David under. Frantic, he twisted and kicked and fought his way back to the surface, his limbs now hopelessly entangled.
The Nessie III's hull was too slick with slime and algae to allow Brandy and Michael Newman to climb out of the water. Instead, they huddled together by the slowly sinking vessel, their breath visible above the chilly waters.
"Ha… help!"
They looked around, trying to locate the source of what sounded like a gurgling scream. Newman pointed to their left as David surfaced and was dunked again.
"Ah, gees, he's caught in the net." Brandy felt along the back pockets of her jeans for her Swiss Army knife. "Stay here!"
Kicking away from the hull, she swam out, waiting for David to circle by again.
Michael Hoagland watched the action through binoculars from the starboard deck of the Nothosaur. "Victor, how much longer?"
The sonar tech's eyes were focused on the pontoon behind them. "The last panel's being readied now."
"As soon as it's lowered, get us over to that capsized boat!"
Brandy treaded water, her heart racing as the circling net approached. Anticipating its path, she avoided it, then grabbed for David as he rushed by.
He went under again and she leaped for him, brandishing her knife. David felt the disturbance and lunged blindly for her.
Brandy pushed him aside, fighting to keep herself from becoming caught in the entanglement of loops. Remaining spreadeagled atop the netting, she felt her way to David's left leg and began sawing at the thick, wet rope.
And then they stopped moving.
Freed of the current, David thrashed his way back to the surface, gagging in her ear. "Cut me loose!"