First
The Antarctic morning was a masterpiece of silence and silver. The sun hung low and pale, turning the towering icebergs into jagged diamonds that sparkled and reflected as they drifted across a sea of liquid obsidian. It was a place where time itself felt irrelevant, a pristine wilderness that had remained unchanged, a testament to the raw, terrifying power of the natural world for millennia. The sea and ice whispered tales of ancient mysteries few were fortunate enough to see firsthand.
“God, this place is such a dump” Julian muttered, leaning against the freezing railing of the Explorer and flicking a piece of lint off his five-hundred-dollar parka.
To him, the “majestic silence and expansive sky” everyone couldn’t stop gushing about was just one giant lack of Wi-Fi, a dead zone in the worst sense of the word. And the “Once-in-a-lifetime” view was nothing more than a background for a selfie he couldn’t even upload. He snorted. And what the fuck is the point of that? No likes, no comments. No interaction with those thousands of followers I’ve grown that treat me like a God, all because I pose with shit they’ll never be able to afford.
He glanced back at the heated observation lounge, spotting Chloe through the glass; the girl was clearly looking for him, her face full of that pathetic, doe-eyed devotion he’d cultivated and built up the last few nights. He looked away before she could turn and catch his eye. He was done with her. She was a “Drake Passage” girl-a fun way to kill time and squeeze a little pleasure out of the misery his parents had forced upon him, in the name of “Broadening his horizons”-and now that they were at the main event, he needed a bigger prize than a mildly good looking chick with nice tits. He didn’t want to be just another tourist in a bright red jacket; he wanted to be the one who took what he wanted from this frozen shithole and left his mark before anyone else could.
He wanted to be one of the last on Earth who could say they were truly the first to do something. Say it, and not be full of shit.
Behind him came the sound of the lounge door’s latch unlocking, followed a moment later by the chattering of many people’s voices as it swung open. Knowing he would draw the ire of his mother if he let on how he truly felt, he painted a pleased, interested expression on his face before turning around.
“Alright folks, if I can have everyone gather around the port railing, please,” the expedition leader’s voice crackled through the deck’s speakers, competing slightly with a repeating hum and low, teeth chattering vibration Julian had both heard and felt ever since they’d arrived. He was dressed in a red parka, pointing a gloved hand towards the towering walls of rock and ice encircling the vessel like Indians straight out of a western.
“Welcome this morning to Hidden Bay. If you look directly behind us, to the north, you’ll see the two massive, snow-capped granite spires of Cape Renard. They act as the western gatekeeper to this entire area. To our east is Aguda Point. This bay is incredibly unique in that it’s only about three miles deep, and less than a mile wide.”
The crowd oohed and ahhed as they looked around. Camera shutters clicked rapidly, and Julian saw his parents among them, smiling to themselves. He resisted the extreme urge to roll his eyes at the scene and looked around. As his eyes wandered, they drifted across and found Chloe, who pushed her blonde hair behind one ear and gave him a small smile. Immediately he changed direction to look out over the railing again, pretending to be interested in the scenery. God, please don’t come over here.
An older man near the railing turned, lowering his massive camera lens. “Is that why it’s so dead calm in here? It feels more like a lake than something connected to the ocean.”
“Exactly,” the guide nodded, smiling. “We are completely tucked into the western coast of the Graham Land mainland. The sheer walls of the glaciers around us block the fierce winds. But more importantly, look just past the mouth of the bay to the southwest. Out there, beyond our view lies the Grandidier Channel.”
He gestured toward the open horizon where the calm bay water met the darker, vast ocean.
“The Grandidier is a massive, deep-water highway. It plunges down hundreds of meters into a glacial trough, channeling raw oceanic currents straight up from the south. The Lemaire Channel-which we’ll navigate later-cuts right off from it. Hidden Bay sits right at the intersection of these two giants. Because the Grandidier pushes nutrient-rich, deep waters right to our doorstep here, it brings an incredible amount of marine life up from the abyss.”
He paused, letting the tourists take a few photos of a massive, glowing blue iceberg drifting near the shoreline. As he did, Julian felt more than heard his parents sidle up beside him.
“That’s some view, isn’t it Jules?” his father asked, reaching over and gently tousling the teenager’s hair. In response, Julian ducked out of his reach.
“Dad, how many times do I have to tell you I hate that stupid nickname?” he asked, his voice rising slightly in pitch. “It was fine when I was six, but I’m almost eighteen now. I’m not a damn kid anymore.” His father gave a good natured chuckle and instead patted him on the shoulder. However, he saw his mother give him a disapproving stare as a few of the others turned, hearing the swear. Julian let out a small snort showing exactly how much he cared, but held his tongue. A little kid, one that he had come to think of as one half of the brat club with his brother spoke up.
“What sort of animals come up with the water, sir?” The guide smiled warmly at him.
“An excellent question, young man. The deep canyon water is actually why we have so much activity today. The water brings plankton and krill up from the depths, which in turn draws many species of fish like Icefish and Antarctic Silverfish. It’s a massive wildlife corridor out there. We often get Humpback Whales spyhopping in the channel, as well as frequent sightings of Orcas and even the occasional Blue Whale passing through. And, of course, we sometimes see sperm whales passing through the channel as they navigate the deep, open ocean waters for squid. As for here in the bay itself, the fish that chase the plankton draw many species of penguins, like Adelie, Chinstrap and Gentoo. Which, in turn, draws some of the larger predators, like Leopard Seals.”
The crowd smiled and clapped like trained seals again. The boy’s mother leaned down and kissed him, smiling at his question.
It was enough to make Julian want to vomit. I’m in a fucking Hallmark movie here. I want to do something! I want something exciting to do!
The thought suddenly brought forth something the guide had discussed the night before, before everyone went to bed. An activity that was scheduled. Swinging his head towards the stern of the ship, he grinned as he saw the row of colorful kayaks lined up on the lower marina platform alongside the Zodiac. Yes! Deciding he’d had enough of hearing something he could have listened to on the National Geographic channel at home on his father’s home cinema, and not caring if his mother got pissy at him for interrupting, he raised his hand and spoke up.
“Hey, when are we going kayaking?”
The guide, who’d been in the middle of starting to speak again, looked up and focused his eyes on him.
“Ah, Julian, right?” The man offered a practiced, accommodating smile, though his eyes shifted briefly to his parents. “I completely understand the eagerness. The Bay and Lemaire area is world-renowned for its sea kayaking. However, as I was just about to explain to the group, our spotters have noted an unusually high level of Leopard Seal activity near the ice floes this morning. Because they appear to be in a highly aggressive hunting mode, the expedition leader has officially canceled all kayaking for the day. I’m sorry, but for the safety of the group, we are keeping everyone on the main vessel for the moment.” He smiled. “But don’t worry, once we get the green light from the spotters, we’ll be launching the Zodiac boats for a safe, guided cruise around the Cape. It’s an incredible view, I promise!”
For a moment, the Antarctic chill that had endlessly attempted to seep through his coat felt as though it had found a way in. He shivered, though not from the elements. Canceled. The one damn thing so far around this godforsaken frozen rock that wouldn’t have involved sitting around with senior citizens, and it was gone. Julian felt a hot spike of rage flash straight through to his chest, and impulsively burst out.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!”
The harsh curse cut through the crisp air like a gunshot. The crowd of tourists froze, the smiles instantly vanishing from their faces as they whirled around to look at him. The woman with the children ducked and immediately put hands over her nearest child’s ears, motioning for her husband to do the same with the other. Chloe was staring at him with a mixture of shock and impressed awe. There was silence for a second.
“Julian!” his mother hissed sharply, her face draining of color as she reached out to grab his elbow. “Language!”
He tore his arm from her grip, taking a step forward, towards the guide. “No, Mom, I’m sick of this. This is an absolute joke and a half. Look at the water, it’s a goddamn mirror! We’re paying a fortune for this trip, and you’re letting a couple of overgrown seals and a David Attenborough knock off Dad would have fired at his company for telling him no cancel the only part of this so-called vacation so far that isn’t completely boring!”
“Julian, shut your damn mouth right now! You’re embarrassing us!” his father hissed, stepping in between his son and the rest of the open-mouthed passengers, his face twisted into a mask of the sort of fury that would only fit the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. “We are not paying for this trip-your mother and I are. And we raised you to be far better than this,” he gestured to everyone. “Apologize to the guide, to everyone immediately!”
But Julian didn’t listen. He sneered at his father.
“Screw you, Dad, and screw this boat,” he growled, backing away towards the other side of the deck.
“Julian, please listen,” the guide chimed in over the PA system, trying desperately to de-escalate the situation. “Like I said, as soon as the spotters have cleared the area as safe enough, we’ll be launching the Zodiacs for those who want the tour. It’s still going to be an incredible experience.”
Julian snorted disdainfully.
“Yeah, enjoy your ‘safe’ little cruise, then, sheep,” he spat, shoving his gloved hands into his pockets. He spun on his heel and strode away, his head stuck high in the air as he walked out of sight around the Observation Lounge. For a moment, there was another stretch of silence. Julian’s mother, face beet red from her son’s tantrum, began to follow after him, but was stopped as his father put a hand on her shoulder.
“Let him go, Maria. Let him blow off some steam. We’ll handle him later tonight.” He turned back towards the guide.
“My apologies for that, sir. Please, continue. In fact, could you tell us how we’re able to stay in place, despite not being anchored?”
The murmurs began to die down as the guide cleared his throat, regaining his composure. “Of course, sir. It’s quite alright. The Explorer is equipped with a system called Dynamic Positioning. The ship’s computers continuously fires bow and stern thrusters, as well as the vessel’s 360-degree rotating propellers to keep us in place. It’s the vibration you all may have felt every few minutes through the hull.” He perked up slightly. “And a fun fact for those of you who may not know. It actually creates a recurring, low-frequency grinding and hissing noise underwater that travels for miles!”
He turned and began to lead the way towards the bow.
“And now that we can return to our tour-”
Julian leaned against the starboard railing, breathing heavily. Anger still coursed through his system, and he gripped the railing so tightly that, if he didn’t have gloves on, he was sure would see the knuckles of his hands turning white. The indignation of being chastised to by his parents was almost more than he could stand. He hocked a loogie over the side into the still water. I can’t believe how spineless they both are, he thought bitterly. Dad would literally have fired that guy for telling him no in a board room, and Mom would have smiled and told him he did the right thing. But now? Here in this crap hole? They act like peasants. Like the groveling poors we pay to avoid living near. He let out a deep breath and turned, leaning his back against the railing. As he did, his gaze drifted towards the kayaks. The sight of them brought the disappointment back with a vengeance, and he looked away. Then he looked back at them again. His breathing slowed, and he felt his rage begin to be replaced with a sense of calm as something began to turn inside his head.
“Julian?”
He started at the soft call, snapping out of his thoughts and turning to find Chloe had detached herself from the others, standing a few feet away. Oh, great. Fucking brilliant. He let out a sigh.
“What?”
She hesitated for a second, then stepped forward, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder.
“You’re right,” she said, shaking her head and snorting as she shot a look back where the group had to have gone. “It’s complete bullshit that we were told we were gonna go kayaking today, and they canceled just because of some oversized Harbor Seals are a bit rowdy,” she shook her head again, smiling warmly at him. “I’m sorry it ruined what you wanted to do.”
Julian let out an exasperated laugh at the fact the girl had immediately pivoted to his defense, as if he needed someone to come to it. Just another sheep like the damn rest. And bothering me when I’m thinking.
“Fuck off, Chloe,” he muttered coldly, pulling out of her grasp and turning away as he again eyed the kayaks.
Chloe took a step back, for a moment a hurt look flashing across her face. Then her features darkened, and she stuck out her lower lip in a pout.
“Fine. I was going to ask if I could make you feel better tonight after everyone went to sleep, but if you feel that way,” she turned and began to walk away.
The insinuation slammed into Julian like a truck, the memory of his nightly conquests cutting through the anger and thoughts racing through his mind. You know what? Maybe I’m not done with her. Maybe she is good for me for another few nights. He turned, plastering an apologetic look on his face.
“Hey, wait,” he called, raising a hand dramatically. He saw her stop and turn back to look at him. He allowed a regretful tone to enter his voice. “Look, I’m sorry, alright? I’m an asshole. Just. Having the first really cool thing that had been scheduled get fucked over really did a number on me.”
For a moment, she remained still. Then, just as he predicted, she bought it. The cool expression left her face, replaced by the doe-eyed smile as she crossed back to him. She leaned forward and pecked a kiss on his cheek.
“It’s fine,” she cooed in his ear, pulling back. “Just, don’t get angry at me for something that’s not my fault, okay?”
He nodded, faking a smile, but needing her to buzz off; He only had a little time to put the plan he’d just thought of into action.
“Deal. Just, do me a favor and give me a little time to cool off, okay? That way I won’t take it out on you.”
Internally, he held his breath. Part of him was afraid she’d insist on staying with him, which would derail his plan completely. But to his relief, she nodded, smiling warmly at him, turning and walking away. He noticed with an amused snort that she walked away with a pronounced wiggle to her hips, clearly trying to tease him. Well, looks like I’ve got something to look forward to tonight.
After she was out of sight, he shook his head to clear his mind. He needed to focus if he was gonna pull off the scheme he’d cemented in his mind. He looked back to make sure nobody else was looking. Then he began to, quickly and quietly, make his way towards the stern of the ship and the platform. He smirked to himself.
Fuck all of them. I’m gonna be the first to do something.
As the tour group listened to the guide, Julian’s parents stood near the back, quietly arguing with each other.
“It’s your fault, Jonathan,” Maria whispered sharply, “You always give him a break when he doesn’t deserve one, and use that ridiculous ‘boys will be boys’ comment to excuse his behavior. And now look where it’s gotten us.”
Jonathan sighed, not wanting to start another fight in front of the group; one embarrassment for the day was more than enough.
“You’re right, darling,” he said softly. “You’re absolutely right. I do go too easy on him. Which I will be making up for tonight before we go to bed. But, for the moment, let’s at least try and enjoy the tour. Today is our anniversary, after all.”
He saw Maria hesitate; he knew she wanted to keep at him, knowing full well he didn’t really intend to do anything to their son besides a stern lecture. But she nodded, placing a hand on his chest.
“Alright,” she said, smiling gently at him. Satisfied he’d averted his wife’s fury, he turned his attention back to the guide as he continued speaking. Everyone had returned their rapt attention on the beautiful landscape around them. Camera shutters clicked away again, and the children laughing joyfully as their parents picked them up to see over the railing. They didn’t even cast a glance towards the stern of the ship.
Where a lone figure paddled quickly away, towards the Lemaire Channel.
Julian drove his paddle into the water, his arms already beginning to burn as he pushed the bright red kayak as fast as his muscles would allow. He kept his head low, constantly throwing glances over his shoulder. The ship was shrinking in size behind him, the tourists all grouped at the bow railing. Nobody was sparing a glance his way. The realization made him chuckle, a smirk spreading across his face as he looked ahead at his destination. His chest heaved with a heavy, toxic adrenaline. Fuck them all. This is my turn. I’m gonna be the first teenager in history to solo kayak the Lemaire Channel. And even if I get caught, they’ll never allow it to happen again. Which means I’ll be the only one to ever do it. The thought made him grin, and he pushed himself harder, the muscles he’d built from being on the rowing team back home helping him round the rocky shadow of Cape Renard and straight towards the northern mouth of the bottleneck.
Beneath his boots, the molded plastic floorboards still vibrated with a faint, teeth-chattering hum that had been coming from the boat. He’d felt it vibrating as he’d slid the kayak into the water, all the way in his bones. As he reached the mouth of the channel, he felt the water change. The surface remained deceptively calm-still the same glassy, obsidian mirror the bay had been-but beneath the façade, he felt a massive, silent current take hold of the hull. It felt as if the seawater had suddenly turned to thick oil; every inch of it resisted the dip and lift of his paddle. Tiny shards of floating brash ice and frozen kelp fronds swept past him in a slow, ghostly rush, riding a deep polar tide that compressed within the channel’s walls ahead. He smiled, misinterpreting the resistance as a challenge he was easily conquering. Even easier than getting Chloe into bed. The dead-calm water allowed his hull to glide in absolute silence, leaving nothing but a long, silver wake tracing a straight line back to the ship.
As he paddled into the bottleneck, the sheer, three-thousand foot walls of ice and granite rose up on either side of him, swallowing the pale morning sun. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath and spared a glance over the side, down into the water.
He stopped. The sight that greeted him rooted him to the spot for a moment.
The green coastal hue of the water that had made up the bay had disappeared. In its place was now an almost ink black void that seemed to stretch into infinity. The sight of the seemingly bottomless trench beneath him caused him to exhale slightly harder than normal, feeling a chill that the cold air had nothing to do with. Then he shook his head roughly.
“Knock it off,” he said harshly, returning to the motion of paddling as he felt himself begin to be swept backwards to the bay. He wasn’t some scared little boy who didn’t know how to swim.
He was Julian fucking Nichols, and he was going to make history.
He resumed paddling, feeling the oily friction beneath the surface increasing in its resistance. The further he got into the channel, the heavier the current seemed to become. Still, he ignored the slight ache in his arms, gritting his teeth and digging into the water as if his paddle was a shovel. He let out a low chuckle.
“Think you’re gonna beat me, God?” he arrogantly said into the cold sky, his breath visible in front of him. “Think again.”
The minutes dragged on as he slowly made progress, using the shoreline as waypoints to mark how much he’d moved forward. When he felt his arms begin to burn, he allowed himself to rest for a few moments, setting the paddle sideways across the front of the kayak. He took several deep breaths, letting the cold air invigorating him for his next push, and in his head, could almost hear the impressed tone of his rowing instructor complimenting him when he got home and told him what he’d done.
The sound that came from over his left shoulder shooed away the phantom voice.
Pfff-huffff.
It was a ragged, heavy exhalation, carrying the pungent smell of digested fish and cold brine. Julian’s confidence dwindled as he went rigid in the kayak, slowly turning to look. The sight that greeted him made his heart almost leap into his throat.
Just five feet away, a massive, almost reptilian head was hovering silently in the water, staring directly at him. Up close, away from the safety of the ship’s railing, it was horrifyingly huge. Its skull was long and heavy looking, shaped like a prehistoric predator’s, wrapped in scarred, spotted gray skin that glistened like wet steel. It’s black, unblinking eyes fixed onto Julian with a cold, soulless intensity, its mouth parting just enough to reveal a jaw filled with interlocking teeth. Its nostrils twitched as it exhaled another plume of freezing mist into his face.
A cold sweat broke out beneath his layers as a half-remembered trivia fact from the guide’s previous lectures clawed its way forward into his mind: a story about a marine biologist who, while snorkeling in these waters, had been seized by the leg by the monster staring at him, dragged three hundred feet down into the abyss, and drowned. Suddenly, any arrogance Julian had felt fled him.
And then he felt the first tendrils of true terror as two more dark fractures broke the still water behind the first. The sound came from his right, and he slowly turned, fighting the urge to scream as he saw two more. They didn’t move, didn’t charge him. They just hovered, a quintet of ten-foot, three-hundred pound apex killers anchoring him in place in the most agonizing staring contest he could imagine.
But just as his chest tightened, and he prepared to open his mouth and scream, the Leopard Seal closest to him’s eyes widened. It’s pupils dialated with a sudden, frantic alarm. With an explosive, almost synchronized thrash of their powerful flippers, all five seals contorted and leapt forward. But not towards him. They rocketed past his red hull, fleeing towards the now distant bay so fast their massive wake violently rocked his kayak, splashing freezing water on him that took his breath away.
Julian gripped the sides of the cockpit, his breath coming in ragged gaps as the silver ripples slowly faded back into a mirror. Silence reclaimed the canyon. For a few moments, he didn’t move. Then, slowly, a smirk crept back onto is face as the terror he’d felt melted into a sheer, intoxicating burst of adrenaline.
They had run. The apex predators of the peninsula had looked him in the eye, five of them. And they had fled.
A sharp, cocky laugh bubbled up from his chest, bouncing off the granite cliffs. It rose in intensity into a high pitched shriek of victory as he turned to flip the bird behind him.
“Yeah, that’s right, bitches, you better run!” he shouted into the empty canyon, his ego swelling to a dangerous, invincible high. Wanting to cement his absolute dominance over nature, Julian raised his paddle high above his head and slammed the blade down against the water. Thwack! The concussive crack echoed like a rifle shot down the canyon walls. He lifted it and slammed it down again. Thwack! He laughed, reveling in the sound of his own manufactured authority. This must be what Dad feels like to fire someone.
Laughing, he began to paddle forward again, determined more than ever to reach the end of the channel. He spared another look behind him. And noticed the sudden shift on the distant vessel. Looking back over his shoulder towards Hidden Bay, the quiet, uniform lines of the tourists had fractured into a chaotic swarm. The sharp crack of his paddle had acted like a gunshot in the silent polar amphitheater, pulling every long range lens and pair of binoculars straight towards the channel. Even from this distance, he could see tiny figures breaking away from the main throng, sprinting down the external staircases towards the stern platform. They were heading for the Zodiacs. They had seen him.
“Shit!”
A cold, heavy knot dropped into Julian’s stomach, quickly replaced by a surge of desperate, stubborn adrenaline. If they caught him now, he would be dragged back to the ship in front of everyone, Chloe included-he’d be humiliated, grounded and forced to face his mother’s fury for the rest of the voyage. And on top of that, he’d only be known as the kid who tried to solo kayak the channel, not made it.
The thought was too much. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. The exit of the channel seemed an impossibly long way off, but still he dug the paddle into the water with a new found ferocity. His chest began to burn as he deeply inhaled the freezing air, his arms on fire as he refused to slow, determined to conquer the passage before the roar of the outboard motor could catch up to him.
The distant, high pitched whine of the motor finally cut through the air behind him, echoing off the cliffs as the first Zodiac roared out of the bay towards the mouth of the channel. Julian gritted his teeth, his shoulders burning as he forced the paddle through the water, desperate to put as much distance as he could between himself and his “rescuers”. He was dimly aware that around him, the channel had narrowed to its thinnest section. But his attention was ripped away as he began to notice something.
The kayak was becoming sluggishly slow. And it wasn’t the tide, either. He cast a glance around, making sure he wasn’t hitting any ice just below the surface. He saw nothing. He fought for breath. Am I getting that tired?
Then, it stopped.
No matter how much he dug the paddle into the water, the small boat refused to move forward or slide back. It was as if he’d found the only underwater rock in the channel and ran aground on it. Confusion swept over him as he fought to free himself from whatever he’d come into, be it an eddy or a rip current.
That’s when the vibration began.
Beneath the soles of his boots, a new, deeply unsettling sensation vibrated through the the red plastic. It wasn’t the chattering hum of the ship’s engines. It was a heavy, organic friction-the sound of something heavy and rubbery sliding slowly against the underside of his hull, dragging along the keel with a sickening, wet resistance. It was accompanied by a sound as well. One that Julian felt in the back of his teeth. A sound that was almost like long fingernails being sickeningly dragged along plastic.
He froze, his paddle hovering inches above the glassy surface. Something deep and primal in himself was uncoiling like a snake, and the unnamed sensation caused the wisps of terror he’d felt facing the seals to return. He began trying to drive the paddle through the water with increasing ferocity, his breaths beginning to come fast and shallow. He dared not look into the water, only focusing ahead. But it was useless; for all his effort, he barely moved five feet forwards. He paused. The silence returned, this time heavy and suffocating aside from the growing sound of the Zodiac behind him.
Then, the kayak lurched. A thick, muscular mass of pinkish-maroon flesh, lined with cat-like, swiveling chitinous hooks, slowly curved over the left rim of the cockpit. Julian’s breath froze in his throat as he stared at it. What…the fuck… Then the sheer weight of the appendage tilted the kayak violently to one side as it flexed. Before Julian could ever draw in a breath to scream, a wave of freezing, twenty-eight degree seawater poured over the rim, instantly flooding the open cockpit and pooling around his waist. The shock was catastrophic; it hit his nerves like liquid fire, instantly paralyzing his legs and locking his muscles in useless spasms. He was trapped in a sinking, plastic bucket as….something pulled it downwards.
The kayak lurched again, and Julian had to reach out to grab the lip of the cockpit to keep from tumbling out into the water. His face was forced to look down over the edge of the hull.
What he saw froze him more than the freezing water ever could.
Just five feet below the obsidian surface, the darkness had coalesced into a shape. A massive, round shape. Julian felt his heart stop as his mind realized what he was looking at.
An eye. A single, unblinking eye the size of a soccer ball, with a massive, dark horizontal pupil that reflected in the pale sunlight. It wasn’t a soulless fish eye. It was intelligent, hyper-focused and locked onto him with a cold, predatory curiosity.
Panic and terror, hot and sharp finally broke through whatever was left of his façade. Acting entirely on the survival instincts of a spoiled kid used to hitting his problems until they went away, Julian raised the heavy paddle he’d almost forgotten he’d held onto with a death grip. With a guttural scream, he brought the blade down with everything he had left in him, smashing it directly onto the maroon flesh still draped over the cockpit.
The blade connected hard. To his absolute shock, the massive tentacle contracted and recoiled, its hooks giving a sickening screech against the plastic as it withdrew back into the depths. Below the surface, the massive eye quickly vanished. Julian had a sense of a massive shape moving quickly away from him as whatever it had been retreated back into the dark void of the trench. The kayak rocked violently, stabilizing as the dead weight was removed. Julian sat panting, his breath exploding from him in thick, white plumes, his legs completely numb from the freezing water sloshing about his legs. He looked down.
The water was empty again.
He let out a ragged, hysterical laugh. He had done it. He had beaten the seals, and he had beaten whatever the hell that thing had been.
But as he looked ahead at the long, empty corridor of the channel ahead of him, looking for all the world to him now like it was a million miles away, any intoxicating thoughts of being the first to traverse what felt less like a waterway and more like a massive, open grave faded away. His entire body was shaking with a mixture of shock, onset of hypothermia and fear. Behind him, he heard the loud sound of the Zodiac nearing him; turning, he could see the apoplectic faces of his parents along with one of the guides as the moved towards him. His pride finally broke.
Screw the solo record, man, he thought. I’m done. He began to awkwardly move the paddle in his frozen hands, desperate to turn the half sunken boat around and allow the approaching tender to save him.
He never got the chance to turn.
The obsidian glass beneath him didn’t just break-it obliterated. The Colossal Squid didn’t strike from the side; it flew up from the abyss below with all the force of a freight train and the rage of a wounded bull. The impact was what Julian thought being hit by a truck must feel like. A wall of freezing foam erupted into the air as he felt the impact slam directly into the keel beneath him. There was a horrific, screaming tear of plastic being shredded by a thousand hooks. Julian didn’t just capsize; he was launched into the air as if he’d been a cartoon character in a catapult. As if in slow motion, he watched the world whirl around, heard the sound of his parents screaming as the black water flew up to meet him.
The instant his face hit the water, the cold struck him like a fist in the face. The shock of the freezing water made him let out an involuntary gasp, choking as he drew in a burning lungful of water. His vision blurred as thousands of angry bubbles protested his entrance into their domain. He tried to swim, thrashing his arms as his useless, frozen legs hung limply. The five-hundred-dollar parka he’d boasted about now felt as if it were a lead weight. His head broke the surface, and for a moment he heard his parent’s frantic voices as they shouted for him to swim to them.
Then he was pulled beneath the surface as a feeding tentacle-a maroon arrow as thick around as a tree trunk-coiled around his waist. The hooks shredded effortlessly through the layers of his clothing and bit into his flesh with an agonizing pain that not even the numbness could hold back. Feebly, as he felt the tentacle pull him away from the surface, he fought to push it away with his hands. But it was no use. Somewhere above him, he heard the muffled screams of his parents.
For a second, he caught a glimpse of the giant eye, no longer staring curiously at him, but with a mixture of hatred and hunger. Then, as he saw the giant, gnashing beak appear, snapping open and shut in anticipation of its next meal, a thought occurred to him. The last thought he ever had. He was going to be the first in the history books after all.
He was about to be the first recorded case of a human being eaten alive by a Colossal Squid.