“They’re going to try to kill Wee Beastie and the other creatures today, aren’t they?” came Zaidee’s voice. Loch turned to see his sister in her nightgown munching on a bowl of cereal as she came down the slope.
“Yes,” Loch said. He would have lied to her, but he knew she’d see right through him. Cavenger would slaughter every one of the creatures rather than let them get away.
Zaidee sat next to him on the dock and dipped her toes in the water. “Wee Beastie’s very smart. They don’t know that.”
“No, they don’t,” Loch agreed.
“And if he’s just a kid plesiosaur, you can imagine how smart the big ones are,” Zaidee added.
Loch saw a long, dark shadow emerging from the black water into the clear shallows. He stood. Zaidee spotted it too and jumped up.
“Oh,” Loch said, “it’s just another log.”
“Right. Another log.”
Loch looked to Zaidee. Suddenly, he was fully awake. He jumped up and rushed back toward the trailer.
“Hey, you’re thinking what I’m thinking, aren’t you?” Zaidee asked, running after him.
Inside, Loch grabbed the phone and dialed Sarah. It rang several times before she answered.
“Are you out of your mind?” Sarah’s sleepy voice came out of the receiver. She knew Loch was the only one who’d have the nerve to call so early.
“Do you have to sail with your father today?” Loch asked.
“No.”
“Good.”
“When do you need the jeep?” Sarah moaned.
“No,” Loch said. “A boat.”
“You’ve got a bass boat.”
“A bigger one,” Loch said. “I think I know where the creatures hide.”
By ten A.M. the search fleet was under way, with The Revelation setting the pace for the sweep. The PT was first to the yacht’s port side, with a new documentary photographer Cavenger had flown in from London. The pair of clanking fishing trawlers flanked the fleet. Both trawlers had let out their full lengths of rusted-steel netting by the time the fleet passed Dr. Sam’s trailer camp on the south shore.
Dr. Sam looked up from his console of graphic recorders as they scratched their ink zigzags onto the rolls of graph paper. Out the window he could see the motionless specks of Loch and Zaidee standing on the dock watching the fleet pass. Loch’s words last night repeated inside him as Dr. Sam caught his reflection in the glass.
“Sit down,” Cavenger ordered him.
“Sorry,” Dr. Sam said.
“Today we will be famous,” Cavenger spouted, basking in the glow of the dozen flickering sonar screens. His hands trembled as he tensed forward in the command chair, looking to Emilio and Randolph for their assurance. They smiled and nodded to him.
“This time we’re ready for them,” Emilio said.
“Right,” Randolph agreed.
At the wheel Haskell kept his eyes straight ahead.
It was ten minutes after The Revelation had passed the logging mill that the first significant BLIP hit the screens. By now even Cavenger had learned to read the difference between a beaver or a log and their prey.
“I’ve got one of them,” Cavenger said, his voice cracking with excitement.
“It’s very deep,” Dr. Sam confirmed. “Deep under us.”
Cavenger looked like a ghost in the strobe light. “It’s coming up! Give the alert!”
Randolph went on the PA. “Sighting! All crew in place!”
The harpoon team readied the equipment on the bow. A half dozen other crew members with rifles took their positions topside. Emilio got the alert out over the ship’s radio. A dozen armed men moved to their stations around the perimeter of the PT.
“It’s the big one,” Cavenger said, checking the signal.
“Yes, it’s big,” Dr. Sam confirmed.
“How deep?” Emilio asked.
“Rising from eight hundred feet,” Dr. Sam called as the seconds ticked by. “Eight hundred, seven hundred, six hundred fifty …”
BLIP, BLIP, BLIP.
“Five hundred feet and closing …”
BLIP …
Cavenger reached his hands out around the edges of the master screen in front of him like a warlock peering into a cauldron. “We’ve got this one.”
“We won’t be able to net it out here,” Dr. Sam said.
“No,” Cavenger said without looking up. “But we are going to blow its head off. We get the carcass of the first one, then we can worry about netting the others.”
Dr. Sam shifted in his seat.
The sonar signal disappeared at three hundred fifty feet.
“What’s going on?” Cavenger shouted, turning away from the screens to look at Dr. Sam. “What happened to our signal?”
“Nothing,” Dr. Sam said.
Cavenger jumped up to check the graphic recorders. “Get that signal back,” he ordered.
“Our sonar is operational,” Dr. Sam said, confused. “The creature’s disappeared.”
“A beast that size doesn’t just disappear,” Cavenger roared.
There was a mild impact to the boat, enough to throw the frail Cavenger off balance. Emilio grabbed him before he fell.
“What was that?” Cavenger asked.
“We’ve hit something,” Haskell said nervously. He shifted the motor’s gears. “We’ve got power, but it’s not engaging the prop.”
“Tell everyone to hold their positions,” Cavenger ordered Randolph. He got on the radio as Cavenger went to Haskell. “What is going on!” he yelled.
“There must be something wrong with the propeller shaft,” Haskell said.
“I think he’s right,” Emilio agreed.
“We’re dead in the water, is that what you’re telling me?” Cavenger began to rant.
“We must have hit one of those logs.” Captain Haskell’s voice cracked in the face of Cavenger’s fury. “Probably a sheared cotter pin. We can fix it, but someone’s going to have to go down.”
Cavenger turned on Randolph. “You’re the dive engineer. Go fix it!”
“Mr. Cavenger,” Randolph said respectfully, “we had something on the sonar. One of the creatures is somewhere around here.”
“No, it isn’t,” Cavenger said. “Sam said it disappeared, didn’t you, Sam?”
“It’s not on the sonar,” Dr. Sam replied.
“Then it’s gone, is that correct?” Cavenger pressed. “Or don’t you know what the hell you’re talking about?”
“It’s gone,” Dr. Sam said uneasily.
“Fine,” Cavenger told Dr. Sam. “And since you’re the great oceanographer, you can buddy Randolph on the dive.”
12
Loch and Zaidee looked to the east corridor of the lake once the search fleet had passed. Finally, they saw a lone boat cutting through the water toward them. As it neared, they saw Sarah waving to them from behind the wheel of an old fishing skiff.
“See,” Loch told Zaidee, “she comes through.”
“I still don’t trust her,” Zaidee said through her teeth. “Besides, it’s just a dumpy old fishing boat.”
“I think you should stay at the camp,” Loch said.
“No way.” Zaidee made a face.
“Zaidee,” Loch said, “it really would be safer.”
“Look,” Zaidee said. “You can depend on me. I’m not going to let you risk your life with some daddy’s little girl with no guts. She won’t be there for you when you need her. She doesn’t even like fish.”
“You’ll have nightmares.”
“Wee Beastie needs me!” Zaidee stamped her foot.
Sarah threw the boat into neutral as she neared the dock. She let the momentum and wind glide the boat in. Loch grabbed the front tie rope while Zaidee jumped aboard.
“The boat’s not very fast,” Sarah apologized, “but at least it’s bigger than your boat.”
Loch recognized the skiff as he boarded and pushed off. “It was in the first day’s search.”
“Right. They dropped it out when they got the PT,” Sarah said. “I had to take this or a twenty-seven-foot Seasprite with a leak.”
Loch swung around into the open cabin and took over the wheel. He shifted into reverse. The dual propellers churned the water behind them, drawing the boat backward and away from the dock. At the edge of the black water, he shifted into forward and brought the boat around and headed across the lake.