Barracuda (32 page)

“Is that the best you can do?” Pete cried out in
mockery.

“Listen, Prairie Dog, I’ll hang you on a hook on
the back of the bathroom door if you keep it up,” Micko jested to
the delight of the others.

Jaynnie opened a bottle of beer and handed it to
Micko. “Careful,” she warned. “He bites.”

This brought another round of laughter from the
crowded room, especially Pete. It appeared that Pete not only had a
great sense of humor, but he also liked being the center of
attention.

Regis told Pete about the night’s terribly
tragic events, while James and the professor huddled together.
Jaynnie and Micko were left sitting next to each other.

“Do you know what happened to the Barrett
brothers?” Micko asked her.

“Yes, Steve told me. He told me what happened to
Denise as well. It’s all so horrible.”

“Where is the ferry that is normally at the
dock?” Micko asked.

“It left for Eneu after the fireworks barge left
there. I think some important people are arriving at the airport.
Steve and Shorty notified Majuro of the diving accidents, and I’m
sure some investigators will be coming soon. Maybe they will be on
the ferryboat.”

“I hope my FBI friend is with them. Somebody has
to clean up the mess on Shark Alley Island,” Micko replied.

“Are you ready, Professor?” Pete called out.

“Yes, yes,” he answered.

Regis and the professor stood up along with
Pete. Micko gave a warning, “Tell the locals not to leave the
village until after the authorities have arrived and investigate
the awful scene. Warn them not to go to the wharf or the great
lawn.”

“I will,” the professor answered.

“I will too,” Regis put in.

Micko tried several times to call Buddy on the
cell phone, but was unable to make contact. Long distance cell
phone service from Micronesia was unreliable, so he had no idea
when Buddy would arrive. “I feel so useless sitting here while all
those bodies are rotting away across the atoll,” he commented.

***

Regis and Pete led the professor down an
overgrown path to a small dock not far from the main pier.

“My boat is over there,” Pete announced.

Dr. Collins saw a line of small skiffs that were
equipped with sails rather than motors. He guessed that the
fishermen of Bikini Island were not as well off as the fishermen of
Shark Alley Island, most of whom had outboard motors on their
skiffs.

Pete began to untie the bowline of a lime green
boat when the professor suddenly broke out laughing.

“
Lilliputian
! You named your boat the
Lilliputian
?”

“I thought it was quite apropos, don’t you?”
Pete mocked.

The night breeze was still steady and the trip
was faster than expected.

“Don’t you make enough money to buy a small
motor?” the professor asked Pete.

“Sure, I had a motor, but I use the sail
now.”

Dr. Collins was perplexed. “Why?”

“Because he was drunk one night and dropped his
motor off the pier into the deep end of the lagoon,” Regis
laughed.

The three men laughed until they approached the
wharf of Shark Alley Island. The sky behind the dock was still
glowing in a bright amber hue as the remains of the once luxurious
hotel and casino burned. Suddenly, the wind shifted and the sailors
got a whiff of the pungent odor of burnt flesh. They simultaneously
used their shirts to cover their noses as they sailed past the
awful pyre.

Soon they approached the fishing village, and
Pete tied the
Lilliputian
to a small piling sticking up near
the shore.

“I’ll go to Flacka’s and have her warn the
people to avoid the great lawn area until after the authorities
investigate,” Regis stated.

“I’ll get my journal,” the professor added.

“Okay, I’ll stay here with the boat. Hurry,”
Pete said.

Regis raced to Flacka’s hut and found most of
the village elders inside. He bowed respectfully, apologized for
barging in, and relayed Micko’s warning about scavenging. The
elders spoke amongst themselves and agreed. Tiki and Chino were
designated to assign rebels to guard the site against the rabble
who would pilfer anything that wasn’t nailed down.

Regis took his leave and raced back to the
Lilliputian, meeting the professor along the way. Dr. Collins was
mumbling to himself as Regis helped him back into the skiff. The
scientist had a death grip on his journal as Pete sailed back to
Bikini Island. Regis watched them disappear into the death glow of
the fiery remains of the Majestic wharf before going into the hovel
he called home.

***

Micko, James, and the lovely Jaynnie talked
incessantly while they awaited the professor’s return.

“This is the most bizarre vacation I have ever
taken,” Micko said, “and this was supposed to help my frayed nerves
and injured leg. Ha! My nerves are more frayed, my leg is throbbing
in pain, and my eardrums are probably ruptured.”

“The professor and I will probably make
ichthyology history with our research on the behavior of these gray
reef sharks and other aquatic creatures here in this radioactive
atoll,” James smirked.

“If the dive business ever gets over the
slaughter on the USS
Saratoga
, at least we won’t have any
competition from the Majestic Hotel and Casino,” Jaynnie
chuckled.

Just then, the professor arrived and held his
journal high above his head, “James, this research will make you
famous.”

“Where’s Pete?” Jaynnie asked.

“He’s tending to his boat and said to tell you
that he’s going straight to bed.”

“Well, it’s about time I called it a night
myself,” Jaynnie declared. She winked at Micko and whispered, “I
have breakfast at the lodge at seven a.m. You should join me.”

Micko felt like he was on cloud nine as she
left.

The scientists immediately began babbling about
their work until Micko begged, “Gentlemen, please! Put a cork in it
until after you give me a physical.”

Dr. Collins and James gave Micko a thorough
examination and determined that his ear damage was slight, and the
nosebleed and ruptured eye vessels were minimal. They were a bit
concerned over his headache and overall body aches. The force of
the explosion had focused primarily forward toward the barracuda
from hell, but there were enough backlash shockwaves to beat the
shit out of Micko’s body.

“You don’t have a concussion, but I bet you
could use a handful of Tylenol,” James joked.

“I don’t like the way you favor your right leg.
I want you to stay in bed for a day or two and let your body rest,”
the professor added more seriously. “Besides, that’s what you came
here for in the first place, isn’t it?”

“You know, all Danish women are taught how to
give a man a proper massage,” James hinted.

“I think I could stay in bed for a whole year
with Jaynnie giving me daily massages,” Micko said with a
laugh.

He decided to take a few Tylenol and hit the
sack while the scientists went over their radioactive fish
theories. Sleep did not come easy as the vision of Celestial’s
bobbing half body haunted him.

***

Micko awoke the next morning hearing excited
chatter from the living room. He struggled out of bed and limped to
the parlor. The professor, James, and Jaynnie were hosting Buddy
and a phalanx of FBI.

“What time is it?” he asked blearily.

“Two o’clock in the afternoon, Detective,”
Jaynnie cooed.

“Two o’clock!”

“Easy, Micko. From what I hear you needed it.”
Buddy smiled warmly.

“We kept your breakfast date with Jaynnie and
filled the FBI in on all the gory details of the past few days,”
James chuckled.

“How do you feel today, sleepyhead?” Jaynnie
teased.

Micko smiled at her. “I feel like I was run over
by a Mack Truck, but I’ll survive.”

She handed him a cup of coffee. “There are
plenty of donuts on the table. I hear all you cops like donuts,”
she quipped, flashing that million-dollar smile.

Micko ate hungrily as a dozen conversations
exploded at once. He learned that the Bikini resort ferry had
picked up the FBI gang at the airport in Eneu just an hour earlier.
The FBI lab people were checking and assembling their gear as Micko
and Buddy spoke.

“You guys are going to have a hell of a time
cleaning up this mess,” Micko groaned. “There are dead politicians,
celebrities, royalty, and of course, VIP mobsters. I have the
ledger that they referred to as the Bible hidden. We can get it
later. I’m sure it contains all the evidence that you need to close
the money-laundering ring and make numerous arrests in Hawaii,
California, and New York. This whole affair should be quite a
feather in your cap.”

“Okay, let’s get started. We’ll use the same
ferry that got us here from Eneu to bring us to the scene of the
crime,” Buddy declared.

“Jaynnie, do you have any vapor rub in your
apartment?” Micko asked.

“Sure, why?”

“Can you please get it for me? I’ll explain
later.”

Micko, the scientists, and the FBI crew boarded
the ferryboat for the ride across the atoll. It was another typical
South Pacific day. The sun was hot, and there was barely a breeze.
The lagoon water was as placid as a sheet of glass. Marine birds
were flying about, and an occasional fish leapt out of the water in
an attempt to elude a predator. Birds were chirping and bees were
buzzing. It was a quiet, peaceful, and serene setting until the
ferry neared Shark Alley Island.

Nature seemed to have vanished abruptly as the
ferry neared the charred remains of the wharf. James let out an
audible groan as he saw the remains of the
Happy Monkey
beached at the foot of the great lawn. The luxury sport fishing
boat was burned right down to the waterline. All of the boats that
had been moored or docked the previous night had suffered
significant damage. The entire dock area was void of all life—human
and otherwise.

“We watched the horror from here,” Micko told
Buddy.

The ferry had a difficult time finding a safe
spot to drop off the investigators. The ferry captain managed to
drop off a few FBI men, who then set several burned boats adrift to
make room for docking at a still-sturdy section of the pier. Buddy
Burger had a crew of six investigators with him, and they all were
in awe of the ghastly scene that lay before them.

Undoubtedly these seasoned men had been to some
horrific crime scenes, but this one seemed to shock even them.
Micko pulled out the vapor rub and gave himself a menthol mustache
as the FBI guys put on surgical masks and gloves. Soon all the men
had clear gel under their noses masking the horrible stench.

The fires were out, but smoke emanated from
numerous sources. The pile that was once the Majestic Hotel and
Casino was now a thick haze of smoldering exhaust. Numerous corpses
could be spotted among the ruins. Evidently, some VIPs or staff
members had sought shelter only to be engulfed by the conflagration
that left only their skeletal remains.

A somber mood engulfed the FBI as they conducted
a professional investigation. Some members of the team erected a
temporary headquarters tent, complete with a field lab, while
others collected evidence once the video and photos were taken. DNA
samples were collected so that the victims could be positively
identified. Weapons were vouched along with the personal
possessions of the deceased. It was a huge task that would take
weeks to complete.

“Micko, why don’t you take me to the Bible?”
Buddy asked. “My men have the situation under control here.”

Tiki agreed to take them up the coast to Bokbata
Island. Micko liked Tiki, but he didn’t want to give away the
location of the shark cemetery. Celestial had been a good friend,
and he had showed this holy place to him in the strictest of
confidence. He believed that the sharks were God’s protectors of
the atoll, and that when their job was done, they came to that
special location to die and return to God. Their graveyard had to
be revered, just like any human graveyard.

In honor and respect for Celestial, Micko asked
Tiki to beach the skiff hundreds of yards shy of the shallows where
the sharks’ bones were at rest. Tiki did as he was directed, and
Micko hopped out of the boat.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

He ran deep into the foliage and then circled
back to the tree where he had buried the Bible ledger, retrieved
it, and then retraced his steps and returned to the boat.

“This is a pretty desolate area,” Tiki said to
the returning detective.

“I know. I found it when I got lost. Now let’s
get out of here,” Micko demanded.

Jaynnie met them as they were returning to the
Bikini resort. “Well, I have some good news, Mr. FBI man,” she
said. “I just called the ferry, and it’s coming back to take the
surviving VIP guests to the airport to fly home. You and your men
can use their vacated accommodations starting tonight.”

Then she turned to Micko. “Mr. Detective, you
can have your own private room to convalesce in. What do you think
about that?”

“Fabulous!”

She continued, “I just brought Dr. Collins and
James some food. I’ll order some for you two, but first, I’ll show
Buddy to his room. Then you need a massage. “I want you to take a
hot shower, and come out with a towel wrapped around you. You’re
getting a massage while we wait for the food to be delivered. I’ll
be waiting with my table and my healing oils.”

She eyed him up and down. “ From the bruises I
can see, and the stiff way you’re walking, I will need at least two
weeks to massage you back to health.” She winked and flashed that
beautiful smile. “Your real vacation has just begun.”

***

The recent unnatural tidal surges caused the
eggs to smack into each other. This hastened the hatching of the
first juvenile. Although awkward and clumsy It remained in the nest
hungrily waiting until Its siblings hatched. Then, like the
previous half century, It consumed the other juveniles- one by one.
This new predator would grow faster and stronger than its
predecessors as a new generation of mutants evolved.