The Bound Eye-Part 5

Click here for Part 4

               The jet-black waters which surrounded the sub seemed more oppressive to Miguel than they ever had before. Perhaps it was because the grey clouds swirling above the surface which mirrored the looming darkness, to a lighter degree. Perhaps it was the complete lack of sleep he had gotten after the night’s terrifying dream. Whatever the reason, his sense of dread was at a peak this day, gnawing at his soul like a vulture on bone. The sub glided through the inky depths as it had many times before, but to Miguel it seemed like he was seeing this overbearing darkness for the first time.

               A bit of the blackness was dispelled on the camera as the plasma torch flashed its bright, blue-white addition to the lights. The sub’s mission that day was to extract some additional rock and fossil specimens to retest and validate the results of the previous days. Knowing that the storm would restrict diving over the next day or two meant that the team would need a lot to analyze and keep them busy aboard the isolated ship. To that end, a carrier net was fixed to the sub that morning to allow it to carry multiple samples back up. One piece that everyone on the research team except Miguel was very adamant about getting was as complete a set of remains as possible from within the sacrificial chamber. That was where the sub sat now, meticulously cutting around a fossil set, extremely careful not to damage the specimen or those around it.

               Wanting as little do to with the interior of the structure as possible, Miguel had volunteered to help Alex with the sample testing for that day. They started by investigating more into the statuette. Absolute dating methods of the shale came back inconclusive, so they could only estimate its age by relative means. Based on where it was found and the fact that its pedestal was carved from the same base stone as the great mound it was in, they theorized it was also roughly 20 million years old. They then set to work trying once again to determine what type of tool was used to cut the stone. Alex sat staring at the cuts through the microscope, scratching his over what he saw. “It doesn’t make any sense,” he said, frustrated. “There are absolutely zero tool fragments or chips from a cutting blade within these grooves.” He pushed the microscope from his face and gave Miguel a look of dejected curiosity. “Either these guys were able to shape diamonds into cutting tools that leave no evidence AND hide those tools where no one could find them, or they cut this rock with telekinesis.”

               “This isn’t the only sample of carving that we have,” Miguel responded in a calm monotone. His tone was meant to reassure himself as much as it was to soothe Alex’s frustration. “Go get that flat roof stone from the smaller mound. Maybe there’s something on that one that will give some insight into their tools.” Alex gave a quiet grumble, but ultimately did as he was told. Miguel stared into the idol’s eye as Alex got up to pull the other sample, and it stared right back.

               When Alex came back, Miguel stood and picked up the statuette. He was on his way to place in in the cataloging drawer when Anita called to him from the monitoring console. “Miguel, there’s an anomaly in this fossil bed we would like you to take a look at.” Trying hard to subdue his unease, Miguel placed the idol in his jacket pocket and ambled over to the console. He leaned over the chair, bracing both his hands against the back, and squinted at the video monitor.

               On the screen, the robotic arm was very slowly working its way around a skull fragment of one of the creatures. The long, broken upper jaw way sticking up from the sea floor, sloping back towards the hollow cranium and the eerily empty eye socket. The light was bright enough to see where the fossil cast melded with the volcanic sediment encapsulating it, while the sparks from the plasma torch cast jumping shadows that made the remains seem like they were twitching in terror.

               Anita pointed to the rock that the arm was currently cutting through. “Do you see the color difference between the area surrounding the bone and the rest of the floor?” Miguel leaned in close and squinted harder. It was hard to see in the inconsistent light, but Anita was right; directly around the fossil was an area of darkened stone. It didn’t look like a different type of stone, just a blackened version of the floor that followed the outlines of the skull. He mentioned that he could see the gradient and asked what she thought it was. “Well the video makes it hard to tell, but I would say it almost looks like char or ash, as if the stone has been heat blasted.”

               “Could the plasma torch be set too hot?” Miguel asked.

               “No, you can look and see that the coloration is there on parts of the rock that haven’t been cut yet. This has been there before...” Her words were cut short as the radio buzzed to life.

               “This is Steven in the wheelhouse. The instruments are showing the wind starting to pick up and the I’m watching the rain come down harder. Looks like our little storm’s decided to show a little spunk Captain.”
               Shelly stood from where she was helping Dr. McMullin and went to the transmitter by the rear door. “Understood Mr. Steven. Keep our position and let me know if anything changes.” She hung the transmitter up and turned back to the team. “Alright, I’m going astern to secure any loose equipment on deck. Dr. McMullin, you go forward and do the same for the fore deck. You all, call the sub back up, we’ve got to brace her and the crane as soon as we can.” She was out of the door before she had finished this last sentence and it shut with a dull click right after she stopped.

               A new feeling took a sudden hold over Miguel’s heart, a kind of burning necessity he had never felt before. Without knowing why, he felt a sudden need for the fossilized skeleton to be brought back up. He looked down at the camera feed and saw the unseeing socket staring back at him, calling out to him. It was as if this creature had been something he had owned his whole life, and he needed it to be back in his possession. What was more, he felt it as a sort of out-of-body experience, his heart deeply yearning for this fossil while his mind told him to follow the captain’s orders. Anita reached for the button to contact the pilots, but Miguel pushed her hand out of the way in a quick, jerking motion.

               The look of shock on Anita’s face was somehow surprising and fully expected as she looked up at him. “You heard the captain; we need to bring them back up.”
               “I know, but think of the importance of this fossil.” Even as he said the words, he knew in his mind it was a bad idea, and they felt as if someone else were speaking through him. “Let’s let them finish cutting a bit more and try to get at least that skull out.”

               “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Anita argued. “It could take another hour to cut that piece out, and who knows how long they need to safely secure the sub.”
               Alex joined them by the console, siding with Anita. “I know this fossil is important Miguel, but it will still be there in couple days. Let’s get those kids back up on dry boat.”

               The desire in Miguel’s heart began to turn to anger towards his teammates, while his mind still reeled at what he was saying. “No! We may not get such a perfect chance like this again. The team is already down there, the torch is lit and cutting, why waste this opportunity?”
               “It’s the safety of the equipment and the crew we’re talking about Miguel. Getting one more sample is not worth anyone’s life.”
               “It was worth Alyssa’s.” The words came up with a more putrid taste than vomit, and Miguel’s head could not grasp what his mouth was saying. The other two both had looks of disgusted shock on their faces, struck to silence by such an awful sentence. He couldn’t tell what they had interpreted his words to mean, but he could see that they both stared at him like he had mutated into some reviling monstrosity. Within his own thoughts he agreed with their horror and wanted to cry out and apologize, but it seemed as though his actions were no longer his own. The three stood in near silence, the patter of rain on the roof the only sound.

                The air of revulsion was cut by a small red light flashing on the console. Slowly peeling his eyes away from Miguel, Alex looked down at the console to see what was being indicated. At the same time, Corwin’s voice crackled in through the receiver, a hint of dismay in his tone. “This is the sub team. Are you all reading a drop in the  tanks? Over.”

               The mention of the oxygen supply snapped Miguel and Anita out of their staring contest, and they too looked down at the console. As Corwin had said, the oxygen dial was dropping very quickly, and had just passed the safe level for ascent marked for these dives. The red indicator light strobed quickly, and like some magic flash Miguel felt the anger and overzealous passion drain from him instantly. Anita quickly reached for the transmission button and Miguel made no move to stop her. “You all need to get out of there right now! Oxygen levels are dropping quickly, and that storm is coming on strong. Over.”

               “Alright, thanks for the heads up,” Corwin answered. “The sub’s got a four-hour reserve supply onboard, so don’t worry about us getting back up. There’s probably some problem in the gauge or line. I’ll check it out when I g…” With a jarring clap, the audio from the receiver cut out, and the team was left looking at both video feeds with no sound. Corwin still seemed to be talking, but none of his words could be heard.

               “Sub team, your audio has cut out up here. Indicate to the interior camera if you are receiving me. Over” Anita’s voice had become high pitched with worry. When neither Millie nor Corwin made any indication that they had heard, she repeated the message with even more desperation. Again, neither one made any gesture to the camera, but they did notice Millie tap Corwin and point to something on her panel.

               Miguel’s stomach dropped as he watched the two pilot’s faces sink into deep frowns. Corwin pick up his transmitter again and looked like he was calling the ship with something urgent. As if responding to his actions, the digital display on the console automatically changed to the electrical systems monitor. Alex, Anita, and Miguel looked down in dismay as one after another, all of the electrical systems began to fail. They watched the plasma torch sputter out on the upper screen, and Miguel thought he was the flash of some illuminated sea creature swim by. Moving quickly, Alex darted out of the research center towards the rear deck, undoubtedly going to tell Captain Barton what was happening. The other two continued to monitor the screens. Miguel’s gut churned as he watched Corwin’s face turn to terror, and then to panic. He was shouting into his transmitter, but from the surface they were just screams of silence. Alex and Shelly arrived at the console just in time to see both pilots give the camera one last desperate look before the camera feed flipped to black.

               Anita gave a sharp gasp and shot her hand over her mouth. Captain Barton cursed loudly and ran back out to the rear deck. Wishing to feel anything other than the soul-crushing helplessness that gripped him now, Miguel followed Shelly out of the room.

               Outside, the wind whipped more strongly than it had during the entire expedition. Rain came down in fat, heavy drops that plopped down with a warm splat. Shelly was already at the crane controls, throwing levers with skilled determination. Miguel pulled up his jacket collar against the rain and made his way back towards the captain. Calling out over the wind and starting hum of the motor, Miguel said. “What can I do to help?”

               “Not much,” Shelly yelled back, never taking her eyes off the levers. “The sub has reserve power and oxygen for emergencies, but we seem to be blind up here. I’m gonna try and give them some help by reeling in the lines. Those two are good pilot’s; they know the emergency procedures and will get back just fine.” It sounded to Miguel like this last line was to reassure herself as much as it was for him.

               Just then, the motor began to groan loudly, and the connection wires delving into the swirling sea became taut. A puzzled look came across Captain Barton’s face, and she operated the levers again, none of which seemed to have any effect. The complaints of the motor grew louder, and Miguel felt the deck begin to pitch slightly downward beneath his feet. The line had snagged on something, he thought, or, more disturbingly, something was pulling against it. The captain and the crane battled against this unforeseen adversary for half a minute before, with a loud crack and burst of burnt-smelling smoke, the motor failed under the strain. The bow of the ship dropped sharply, and Miguel had to cling to the rail to keep his footing.

               Carefully righting himself while the ship leveled out, Miguel saw and heard Captain Barton furiously throwing the levers. The dead motor gave no response to any of the captain’s wishes, though, and she loudly cursed it and the situation. She turned to Miguel and shook her head. “Well the fucking motor just blew out on me. Nothing we can do now but wait for Millie and Corwin to bring the sub back up on their own. You get back inside and keep dry.”

               They both made their way forward, walking back into the research room. Inside, they found the others, including Steven, all crowded around the table, and abuzz with noise. The charts and equipment had all been removed, and Gene lay on the table while Steven bandaged his head. Alex was tossing a blanket over him as Anita scrambled through the first aid kit, grabbing out another roll of gauze. A long trickle of blood made its way down to the floor.

               “What happened?” Shelly questioned over the commotion.

               Keeping to his delicate work, Steven replied, “the poor bastard slipped and smashed his head on the rails when the bow pitched. Knocked him right out. Luckily, I saw it all from the wheelhouse and brought him in here.”

               “Should we bring him down to the sleeping quarters?” Miguel asked. “That hard table can’t be too good of a bed.”
               Steven shook his head as he answered, “Nah, I don’t know how bad the blow was on his neck, and I don’t want to risk moving him down the stairs when they’re this slick. He’ll be fine in here for some time.”

               “Alright, Steven, I need you with me in the wheelhouse. We’ve lost contact with the sub and the crane is shot. We’ll keep a lookout for when Millie and Corwin surface. You three keep an eye on Gene; keep those bandages fresh and watch his breathing. If anything changes or he wakes up, you know where I’ll be. Come on Steven.” The two crew members strode out the forward door and went up their post.

               Miguel knelt down next to the table and helped Anita to repack the first aid kit. He looked at Gene, who’s mouth was slightly ajar and whose grey hair was tucked tightly under the bandages. A shadow fell over Miguel as he worked, and he looked up to see Alex towering over him, his expression dark and angry. “This is your fault,” he hissed. Miguel stood to look him in the eye, though not sure what to say.

               Anita came to his rescue instead. “It’s nobody’s fault Alex. Field equipment runs into problems all the time.”

               “Not like this it doesn’t.” He jabbed his finger accusingly at Miguel. “If he had let us call the sub back when the captain ordered, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

               “You don’t know that,” Anita was beginning to raise her voice as well, and Miguel knew this could spiral out of control quickly. He lifted his hand to tell Anita to stop and turned towards Alex himself.

               “I can’t justify what I did back there, or explain what came over me. You’re right, I should have followed orders and called the sub back. I can’t undo that now. All we can do is wait for the sub to resurface and watch after Gene. He needs us now, and bickering isn’t going to help anyone.” His tone was tired and soft, though he felt some outrage in his gut over the accusations, no matter how true they were.

               Alex sighed his resignation, but the anger still burned in his eyes. “Whatever happens to Millie and Corwin is on your hands.” He the turned away and went back to treating Gene.

               Anita walked up next to Miguel and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. “He doesn’t mean that. We’re all a bit worked up right now. What happened isn’t your fault and we’ll get through the rest of this.” She tried to smile and display courage, but Miguel could see it was just for show. He thanked her anyway and sat down to think to himself.

               The time spent waiting passed agonizingly slow as the wind howled outside and the rain came and went in thunderous sheets. Two-and-a-half hours became three, and three became four. Finally, around six o’clock in the evening, Shelly came back into the research center. Her expression was tired and somber, and all the color had seemed to drain from her face. Even her normally lustrous hair seemed to have greyed over the hours. “We haven’t seen any sign of the sub from up in the wheelhouse. As of now, their reserve oxygen has run out. We’ve alerted the mainland of our situation and present location and have been told recue patrols will keep an eye on these waters, but it’s more likely than not that the sub and her crew are lost.”

               “Could they have surface out of sight somewhere?” Miguel asked, a pang of guilt eating at his heart.

               Shelly shook her head sullenly. “If they had come up anywhere within twenty kilometers the sonar would have picked them up. Running on reserve power, I doubt the craft could even get that far. We can stay hopeful all we want, but the fact of the matter is that going down always has its dangers, and those two knew the risks. Right now, I have a responsibility to the crew I know is alive, and that starts with getting him back to a proper doctor. We’re heading back to the mainland now and we’ll be cutting right through the heart of this storm. I need you all to keep your heads on right and help everyone else get back safely.” Her tone was stern but not harsh, and the confidence she showed, whether real or not, put Miguel a little more at ease.

               They held a small service that evening in the galley. Captain Barton gave the sermon and eulogy. A small memento was taken from each of their quarters and, along with a photo of them with the sub, made into a makeshift memorial to be placed on the bow after they cleared the storm. Afterwards, everyone headed to their quarters to get some rest. Miguel could feel the tension in his bunk with Alex, but ignored it as best he could.

               An hour later, when he knew Alex was asleep, Miguel crept out of bed and onto the outer deck. The rain was still falling pretty fiercely, but under the overhang was dry enough to tolerate. The night air was chilly from the wind and rain, and so Miguel had on his jacket over his long-sleeved sleeping shirt. He pulled out the last of his cigarettes and carefully guarded its blaze from the rain. He leaned against the railing and felt the cool mist splash onto his face. The scent of salt was heightened in the rain and, well not as tranquil as the sea on previous nights, the rolling of the storm and low rumbles of thunder had their own kind of serenity. He stood silently, smoking down the cigarette, and simply enjoying the storm for some minutes after its fire had died away.

               Becoming in tune with the sounds of the storm around him, Miguel soon became aware of a new sound that had joined the pattering of rain in the upper deck. It was faint, but he thought he heard the sound of footsteps. Or perhaps heard was not right; it was more like he sensed that someone was walking. He felt each step from where he stood; a gentle pressure over his whole body that he seemed to simply know what it was. He felt them gently start near the bottom of the wheelhouse and grow stronger as they came diagonally forward to the rail just above and aft of him. He instinctively looked up at the sport where he knew they stopped.

               Suddenly, a large object dropped from the upper deck right where Miguel was staring. It passed his view only for a second, but it was long enough for him to have the blood-curdling realization of what it was. With a sickening splash, he heard it crash into the black water below. He ran over to where he had seen it fall and looked out desperately for any sign of it, but the cover of night and tumultuous ravages of the storm made it impossible for him to see anything. While he searched frantically, he was vaguely aware of the footsteps retreating the way they came, but was far too focused on his search to care. Any icy hand gripped his heart and sent shivers down his spine. Somewhere in the roiling darkness beneath him, hidden by a crashing field of waves and hull, was Gene.

Click here for Part 6