and they’ve got stingers!”
“Stingers?”
“Yeah!” Doug looked at his producer, the fear evident in his eyes, in his face, in his crackling voice as he spoke. “They got tails like a scorpion, with stingers. And they were chasing everything. Look!” He pointed to the water and they all looked. Dave knew what Doug was getting at. The frenzied activity from the fish, their seeming frantic motions to swim as fast as possible was due to the fact that they were being chased by these monstrous lobster things.
“Some of these creatures were snapping their claws at the fish,” Doug continued. “And I started shooting this. Then…then a Great White, a twenty footer easily, it was swimming by off to my left. I’d noticed it earlier, just sort of cruising around before all this other shit started happening. As this…this migration started whipping by, the Great White swam closer and just barreled in like they usually do. It grabbed the first thing it could, which happened to be one of the lobster things. Chomped it once, then swallowed it. It started moving in on some other fish. I didn’t think anything of it, just kept shooting. The shark swam away, but then started circling back. That’s when I noticed that it was swimming kinda funny.”
“What do you mean?” Todd asked. The yacht owner looked terrified.
“It was…” Doug seemed to search for the correct words. “It was flopping around, as if it was in pain. It even swam on its side for a minute, like goldfish do when they’re about to die. I could see this weird bulge in its middle and then…I swear to God man, I ain’t making this up…this split appeared in its side, like a fissure, and blood started leaking out. And the more it came apart, the more the water started getting all bubbly and frothy and then the thing just fucking exploded in the water!”
The crew on deck greeted this with stunned silence. Doug was adamant. “I swear to God man, it exploded! The fucking shark exploded! I was so stunned I didn’t know what to do. I think…I think the camera was still rolling, but then the cage started going up and I knew you’d seen it.”
“Why would it explode?” Dave asked. He was dumbfounded. He looked out at the ocean, his eyes telling him that, yes, those were chunks of Great White shark floating in the bloody water. He noted that parts of the flesh were still dissolving, as if from some powerful corrosive chemical. “How is this possible?”
“I don’t know,” Doug said. “But it is possible, apparently. And get this. As Peter’s pulling the cage up I started shooting again and the thing that shark ate—that lobster-scorpion thing—it was alive! It was alive and swimming around in the middle of all this blood and shark guts like nothing ever happened to it.”
Suddenly, Dave connected the dots. “You said these things have stingers?”
“Yes! Big ones! About this long.” Doug put his palms about two feet apart.
Further out in the ocean there was another spreading pool of frothy blood. Pieces of some unidentifiable fish spewed to the surface. The frantic migration continued around them, more frenzied now.
“I think we better get the fuck out of here and back to shore,” Dave said. “And the faster the better.”
Todd didn’t have to be told twice. He swung down into the cabin, put the boat in gear, and a moment later they were speeding back to shore.
Santa Catalina Island, California
Cathy Hernandez hated Melissa Reinhardt with a passion.
It was bad enough working for the passive-aggressive bitch. It was even worse to be her direct report. Melissa hadn’t wanted to bring the team to Catalina Island for the team building exercise, but it had been Jim Sunn’s idea. Cathy thought it was a good idea, to be truthful. They could use some of the techniques the team building consultant was teaching them today for their work on the mainland, which was on the second floor of a non-descript office building in an
Skye Malone, Megan Joel Peterson