Claws by Russell James

Author:Russell James [James, Russell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severed Press
Published: 2019-05-19T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

Two charred corpses stared out from the downed helicopter’s three-windowed cockpit.

Their eyes seemed to follow Nathan with each trip he took. The chopper lay on its side in several feet of water. In the left window, one pilot’s head was just above the surface and bobbed in the waves as if nodding, saying, “Sure, come on in, but I’m proof of what happens out here.” The center window was just a web of glazed cracks. In the third window on the right, the other pilot hung from the shoulder strap seatbelts, lips curled back in a creepy rictus, hands still gripping the top of the windscreen, as if at any moment it was about to climb out laughing.

The slingload cargo had hit the water to the aircraft’s left. Crates and containers had obliterated chunks of coral reef and Nathan cringed at the ecological damage done to the park. The rainbow-hued sheen of jet fuel in the water alone was poisoning who knows how many species as he waded through it. The cleanup would take forever.

That’s if there was anyone around to do a cleanup. If giant crabs overran the key, he could see the country just abandoning it, or worse, nuking it to keep the species from ever making Florida. A mainland invasion would be a nightmare.

He sloshed back to where the cargo lay strewn on the seafloor. The closer crates had already been recovered. He took a deep breath and went underwater.

The crystal clear water made finding the crates easy. Some remained in the shallows, but a bunch of them had tumbled down into the old coaling station channel, too deep to free swim down to. The tail of the helicopter hung a few feet out over the abyss. He swam to an ammunition crate and swept away a few curious shrimp. He grabbed the rope handles, planted his feet, and pulled it up. He surfaced in the water neck-high, and it was an effort to walk the crate and himself back toward shore. When the water lowered to waist-deep, Larsson stopped him and took the crate. He had an M-4 slung across his shoulder upside down, and he dragged the end of a rope through the water.

“I got this one. We need the Zodiac. It’s still inside the bird. The rear cargo door is open. Swim over, tie this rope to the bow, and push it out.”

“You know there are crabs out there?”

“You know we have guns over here? Get going.”

Nathan took the end of the rope. He waded out halfway around the helicopter, then the water became too deep. It was over fifty feet to the end of the aircraft. Covering that would create a lot of crab-attracting splashing. But Larsson had probably killed Kathy, and wouldn’t hesitate to kill him as well. And if he died, there would be no one to keep Gianna hidden.

He pushed off of the coral and began a quiet sidestroke to the rear of the helicopter. He didn’t look down, didn’t want to see whatever might be going on there.

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