The excitement and anticipation they once felt was seized in silence by the haunting image of the soulless vessel shrouded in a white haze; a nebulous ghost ship amidst churning gray waters. Beyond the waves and jagged rocks that jutted upward like spears from the ocean, Travis saw the rocky shores of an island dense with trees and mist-filled ravines, treacherous waterfalls and winding creeks not found on any map.
"It's got to be on there, keep looking," said Santiago as he reached for a carabiner under his seat. He proceeded to clip it to a black strap connected to the tightly bundled equipment at his side.
From the pilot's seat, Ox spoke to them through the headset.
"Looks like she's rocking pretty hard down there. Don't think I'll be able to land."
Captain Danko adjusted his headset from the passenger seat and tilted forward to evaluate the ship's condition.
"Who's going down first? Pates?"
"Yes, sir," Travis replied. There was no hesitation in his voice, he stepped into action. Still buckled, Travis reached beneath his seat for the harness and clamps.
Santiago relieved himself of his seat and grabbed a set of cables from a compartment behind him. In two minutes, his team members had helped Travis into the harness and latched him to the cables. Below, ocean water sprayed white into the air. Zahra opened the door and was met with a hard gust of wet wind and the roar of propellers. Beneath the helicopter, a groan like that of a whale's, but metallic sounded from the boat's hull under stress from the battering winds and smashing waves.
Zahra observed a break in the marine layer which revealed at the top of a ridge a rooftop or some kind of platform though in the weather it was difficult to tell.
"I think I see something down there!"
"There's still nothing on the radar," said Ox. "Jonah?"
"Lots of islands on the map, but none below us. According to the radar, that island shouldn't be here."
Ox glanced over his shoulder.
"You mean it's uncharted?"
"I don't understand how that's possible," replied Jonah. "With satellite mapping, passing ships, tour boats and island civilians, I don't understand how can any island in the modern world be uncharted. Especially one with buildings on it."
There was no such thing as a routine mission, Travis knew. Each required its own strategy, its own approach, but this one was exceptionally different. As he stood at the door, gripping the safety bars preparing to descend to the ghost ship, he couldn't stifle the unease creeping in his bowels. "It would take a very wealthy man of great power and influence to conceal an entire island from the world," stated Travis.
Santiago, who had finished hooking up the gear, assisted Travis into the harness.
"Good to go! Let him drop!"
The rush that came with hanging from a cord seventy feet above the Orion was incomparable to anything he had felt before. He swayed in the gusts, the wind pushing him back and forth as he descended farther, deeper into the spray like a worm on a hook about to be swallowed by the ghostly leviathan.
As Travis descended the cables, nearly on the deck now, more of Orion became visible in the grainy marine layer. The oil tanker was tilted to the left, not by much, but enough that when Travis felt his feet land on the surface of counter stern, slick with ocean water, he wobbled to the side—and he would've slipped too if he hadn't been secured by the cables.
The stern, submerged just enough for the thrashing waves to wash up then retreat, let out another metallic wail louder than before, ringing in his ears and vibrate up his feet into his legs.
"Where the hell is everybody?" Travis said to himself.
An uneasy tingling danced up his spine and pricked his neck. If a boat ran aground wouldn't the crew be on deck shooting flares and sending distress messages?
He scoured the deck for any sign of life, a flickering light, or the sound of banging against metal walls if the crew had been trapped below, but heard and saw nothing but the stormy haze.
"Guys," Travis said into the radio transmitter. "Something's wrong."
"What's up, Pates? You see anything?"
"That's just it. I don't see anybody. It's a dead ship."
"Can we land?"
"No, the boat's unsteady. Don't think the water here is deep enough to submerge it entirely, but it's definitely not stable to land. Looks like there's a pretty bad leak starboard side. Got crude oil seeping into the water."
"Keep looking, Pates. An entire crew doesn't just vanish."
"Yeah, I'll keep an eye out. How long until the Coast Guard arrives?"
"Delayed. Some rich asshole on a yacht thought he was above the storm warnings."
"Dumbasses think they'll live forever," said Travis. Another wave, the largest one so far, smashed against the hull nearly causing Travis to fall again. He felt something below deck crunch and buckle. "If the Coast Guard doesn't get out here soon we're going to have a severe ecological disaster."
"If they don't get here soon, it's going to have to wait until the storm clears," Danko retorted. "Can't do anything in that kind of weather."
Travis cursed under his breath. He held onto the railing and watched the opalescent fluid coat the ocean surface and the protruding rocks. "What a fucking mess."
He turned and carefully edged his way along the rail, vigilant of the slick deck and the occasional wave that swelled over the side and washed over his boots. Above, the darkening clouds swallowed the horizon in charcoal gray and navy blue, a nebulous distinction between ocean and sky.
When he was secure with his sea legs, he released the railing and edged toward the center.
"Hold it Travis, I think I see someone."
Travis scanned ahead and saw no movement other than the ocean and drifting fog. "I don't have visual."
"It's moving. It's coming straight for you."
Travis jerked his head around and still saw nothing behind him. His chest tightened. "I don't have visual, where's he coming from?"
"Damn, that fucker is moving fast! Coming up on you real quick. You see it? Jesus that fucking thing is fast, Christ look at it go!" There was panic in his voice.
Travis spun in circles, his eyes darted in every direction. "I don't see him!"
"He's right on top of you! Go now, Pates! GO!"
He heard the rapid footfalls just as it stopped behind him. Then the sound of slow, wet breathing.
Travis whipped around.
The bald man opened his bloodied mouth and let out a gargled croak that was more otherworldly than human. The red dripped from his chin down his neck and onto his torn shirt that barely covered his bulbous gut. A deep gash in his left forearm exposed stringy crimson threads of muscle and pulpy flesh.
Travis bellowed a scream capable of summoning the Kraken.
So much blood. . . I need more red.
The crewman fell to his knees, his eyes pleaded for help.
"What's going on down there, Pates?"
"I got a man, injured. He needs medical attention right now."
"Can he be lifted?"
To the injured crewman Travis said, "Sir, we're going to lift you out of here. I'm going to need you to hold very still while I strap you up."
The man garbled something inaudible as Travis synched the cord around them both. "How long until the Coast Guard gets here? There could be other survivors and we can't lift them all."
"Not long, Pates. You guys ready?"
"Beam us up."
Ocean water swirled in the air as Santiago cranked the lever that hoisted them above the Orion. Dangling outside the helicopter, they pulled the injured crewmember in first. Santiago locked arms with Travis and brought him in second.
There was a great commotion as Santiago released them both from the straps while Jonah dug through the medical kit removing bandages, ampules and other vials containing a clear liquid.
"I'm going to take care of this wound first," he said, but then stopped, baffled by what he saw.
"What are you doing? Why aren't you doing anything?" Zahra said.
"These are bite marks," Jonah said, "I've never seen anything like this."
The crewman let out another garbled howl.
"Can't you do anything?"
"Pass me that ampule on the left. His wounds need to be cleaned before I can bandage it."
"He needs it now."
"He needs a hospital."
Jonah unfolded a white cloth and on it placed an array of medical tools.
As he did, the crewman bolted upright, startling the crewmembers. His arm shot out, snatched the gun from Zahra's holster. No one had time to move, time to react, when the man shoved the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger.
The interior of the helicopter became a shell of red. Screams blended with the roar of the engine and the crewman's body slumped backward and tumbled out, falling limp through the air and then struck the deck with a wet, splattering thud before tumbling into the ravenous ocean.
Ox was screaming from the pilot's seat: "I can't see, I can't fucking see!"
The helicopter jolted a hard left and Travis felt pain explode in his skull where his head struck something hard causing his vision to blur, his consciousness slowly fading. As the world dimmed darker and darker still, Travis, unable to move, heard the screams of his crew fade, felt his stomach lurch and bile rise in his throat as the helicopter fell out of the sky.
—
Thank you for reading Chapter 12 of my novel Evilution! Please don't forget to vote and comment!
Next time in Evilution, the survivors of the helicopter crash struggle to survive in the harsh island conditions as something evil emerges, threatening their lives and the existence of all mankind.
New chapters are released every Tuesday & Friday. Or, if you don't feel like waiting, the full novel is available on Smashwords and Kindle for only $2.99
Thank you,
--L.K. Scott