Island 731

15.

The lavish spread on the mess hall’s long dinner table felt inappropriate, given the fact that two men were dead, another missing, and they’d just uncovered the bodies of fifteen mutilated war crime victims, at least three of which were United States Navy. But it seemed surviving the storm and getting the engines back up was cause for celebration. At least it was to the Tweedle brothers.

In attendance were Captain Drake, Blok, Bray, Joliet, and Hawkins. Ray and Jim Clifton remained in the kitchen preparing meals for Jones and Bennett, who’d kept working in engineering, Sanchez, in case he woke up, and DeWinter, who manned the bridge. The crew normally ate in shifts, and the captain almost always ate alone, but this was as much a group debriefing as it was a meal.

The table held an assortment of foods. Grilled steaks sat in front of everyone except for Blok, a vegetarian who got pasta instead. Sides included mashed potatoes, green beans, and salads with dried cranberry, sugar-coated almonds, and avocado, served in frozen bowls. Not exactly high on the fancy scale, but filling, comforting, and served with red wine that helped ease Hawkins’s tension.

He’d eaten quickly, devouring the food while listening to Jones explain how the young Phil Bennett had been the one to figure out the engine problems. He heard the details, but only retained what was important—the engines worked. After Jones finished speaking, conversation faded to little more than “pass the salt.” It seemed that discussing what they’d found on the island, both living and dead, would wait until everyone had finished eating. During the silence, Hawkins sketched the strange lizard he’d seen. He drew a top view, a side view, and a nasty close-up of its strange, fanged teeth.

His mind drifted as he used a paper stump to smudge the dark charcoal he employed to draw the image. The shading brought the lizards face to life, its black and white eye staring at Hawkins as it had in the jungle—with grim intention.

Drake cleared his throat loudly, snapping Hawkins out of his memories. He flinched and dragged a smudge across the creature’s extended wing.

After wiping his bearded face with a cloth napkin, Drake said, “I don’t normally do things this way, but given the gravity of our situation, I want to hear from all of you before I make any decisions.” He tossed the napkin on his cleared plate and continued. “We’ve got two men dead, one that might be in a coma, and another missing. We have the most basic control of the Magellan, but still no communications, no radar, no navigations. If we try to leave we’ll be sailing by the stars with no weather service. We’d be on our own.

“Way I see it,” the captain said, “we have three choices. First, we stay right here, find Kam, and then leave.”

“Uh-uh,” Bray said, nibbling on an almond. “If someone boarded the Magellan and took Kam, I don’t think we should make ourselves a target by staying in the lagoon.”

Joliet wielded her fork like a laser pointer, aiming it at Bray. “You think we should leave Kam behind?”

“No, no,” he said. “I think we should get the ship out of this lagoon, anchor off shore—far enough to make swimming the distance tough—and come back in the small boats.”

“Which is option number two,” Drake said. “Park off shore and return to search in shifts. We’ll set up a search grid, and—”

“Won’t work,” Hawkins said, not lifting his eyes from the page as he added stripes to the lizard’s top view. “The island is too big to search a grid with so few people while returning to the ship every night. From what I could see, most of the island meets the sea with a cliff. The lagoon might be the only way to make land. We also have to assume that Kam—if he’s alive—or the people holding him, might be mobile. You can’t search an area and then assume he won’t be there later. We’d be better off leaving, getting help, and returning with a small army.”

“And that would be option three,” Drake said.

“I can’t believe you’re suggesting that,” Joliet said.

“Makes sense,” Blok said, running his hands over his bald head. “It’s possible Kam is already dead and we’d be risking our lives for nothing. Returning with more people, and weapons, is the only way to be sure and not lose any more lives.”

“You can stay on the ship,” Joliet said, growing angry. She turned to Hawkins. “Both of you can. Kam is our friend.”

“I wasn’t suggesting we leave,” Hawkins said. “Only that a search grid wouldn’t be much better than leaving.”

“Then what are you proposing, Mr. Hawkins?” Drake asked.

“The sun set thirty minutes ago, so it’s too dark to take the Magellan out of the lagoon tonight. I’ll take the Zodiac back to the beach in the morning, while you take the Magellan off shore. I’ll pick up the trail again and find Kam. On my own. Come back to the beach in a week. If I find Kam, we’ll be there.”

“And if neither of you are there in a week?” Bray asked.

“Then do like I said, come back with an army.”

“You can’t go alone,” Joliet said. “You were almost killed. We’re coming with you.”

“When you say ‘we’re,’ are you including me?” Bray asked.

Joliet glared at him.

“Thought so.”

Hawkins lowered his sketch pad. “I’m going alone.”

Joliet locked eyes with him. “Bullshit.”

“I won’t risk your life,” he said.

“It’s mine to risk.”

Hawkins sensed that arguing wouldn’t help, but if he’d known the island was populated, he’d have never agreed to let her join him the first time out. “You’ll slow me down.”

“We did just fine before and I saved your life.” Joliet crossed her arms over her chest.

The captain tapped a fork against his glass like he was about to give a toast at a wedding. Everyone turned to him. “I understand that this is a tense situation, but please try to keep your heads.”

“Not the best choice of words,” Bray said.

The captain ignored Bray’s comment. “I think we’ve ruled out leaving, and when it comes to finding Kam, I trust Hawkins’s opinion.” Drake raised his hand to Joliet, who was about to protest. He turned to Hawkins. “But I can’t let you go alone. Blok, what do we have for weapons?”

“Ahh, there’s the rifle. Two spearguns.”

“There’s a kitchen full of knives,” Ray Clifton said from the door, which he nearly filled. He dried his hands on a towel and stepped into the room. He paused behind Hawkins’s chair. “Overheard your conversation. We got cleavers, too. Keep ’em sharp.” He motioned to Hawkins’s drawing. “Make short work of those dracos there.”

“Draco?” Hawkins said, looking up over his shoulder at the behemoth of a man.

“That flying lizard,” Ray said. “It’s called a draco. Saw it on Discovery. That’s what you saw on the island, right?”

Bray stood up across the table and reached out for the sketch pad. “Let me see that.” He took the pad and sat down with it.

“Here’s how we’re going to play it,” Drake said. “In the morning, we’ll take the Magellan through the strait. I’m going to need every set of eyes to help us maneuver through there, so no one is leaving the ship until we’re out. Then Hawkins, Blok, Joliet, and if he chooses to, Bray, will return to track down Kam. Take whatever weapons you can find. I’ll give you three days to find him.”

Hawkins began to protest. “Three days is—”

“As much as you’re going to get,” Drake said. “When the sun heads for the horizon on day three, I’ll bring the Magellan closer to the island so you can rendezvous with us, with or without Kam. Understood?”

Hawkins nodded, but didn’t speak. The three-day deadline wouldn’t give them enough time to cover a lot of ground, but whoever took Kam wouldn’t just be wandering the island aimlessly. That path would end somewhere, and he felt confident they could find out where inside three days. But he had no way of knowing if Kam would still be there when they arrived, or even if he’d still be alive. He did, however, have an idea.

“What about you, Captain?” Hawkins said, looking at the old captain’s bulging muscles. “Let them take the ship out and you help me find Kam.”

A wide grin formed on the captain’s face. “Much as I’d like that, I’m the captain of this ship, and this isn’t Star Trek. My duty is here.”

Hawkins figured as much, but had to ask. While Bray was overweight, Blok a skinny rail of a man, and Joliet not much bigger than a fourteen-year-old boy, the captain was strong and in good shape. They’d cover a lot more ground and he had no doubt that the old sea dog would be good in a fight. Not to mention the fact that he wouldn’t worry about Drake as much as he would Joliet, or even Bray. His relationship with the captain had remained professional. He’d become attached to Bray and Joliet. Their welfare would be a distraction.

“Are these teeth right?” Bray asked, looking up from the drawing.

“Yeah,” Hawkins said. “Why?”

“It had fangs?”

“Yes. Like a snake, but shorter.”

“What about color?” Bray asked.

“Yellow with black stripes,” Joliet answered.

“And you got the size right? It was this slender?”

Hawkins lost his patience with Bray’s rapid-fire questions. “Yes. That’s what it looked like. Do you know what it is?”

“I told you,” Ray said. “That’s a draco.”

Bray stood and turned the pad around so they could all see it. “Your right,” he said to Ray. “But you’re also wrong. The wings are formed by a thin membrane stretched between ribs that the draco lizard can open. But they can’t fly, like a bird. They glide. Usually to escape predators. The wings, limbs, and head are all draco, but the rest… that’s something else.”

“Something else?” Joliet asked.

“You of all people should see it,” Bray said. He propped the sketch pad against his belly. Using both his hands, he covered the creature’s open wings and limbs in the top view Hawkins had drawn. “Remember the coloration. Ignore the size of the head, but take the fangs into account.”

Joliet looked for just a moment before she gasped. “Hydrophis melanocephalus.”

“Hydro-what?” Ray asked.

“A sea snake,” she said, her voice suddenly full of dread.

“That’s bad?” Hawkins asked.

“Sea snakes have the most potent venom of any snake. Far more deadly than any land snake. In fact, it’s the most deadly natural substance in the world.” She looked at Hawkins. “If either of us had been bit…”

“How come we don’t hear about people dying from sea snake bites?” Hawkins asked.

“Because they’re docile,” Joliet said. “You can swim right up and play with them. Millions of years of not being screwed with have made them nice. Probably why their fangs are shorter than the average venomous snake, too. They don’t bite unless severely provoked.”

“Like if you’re trying to eat them,” Bray said. “But just about everything in the ocean knows not to bother.”

Ray looked dubious. “Doesn’t look like a sea snake to me.”

“Nor does it look like a draco,” Bray said. “Because it’s neither. And both.”

“Just what the hell are you talking about, Bray?” Drake asked, raising his voice.

“It’s a chimera,” Joliet said.

The captain didn’t look impressed. “Which is?”

“Two or more creatures merged to form something new,” Bray answered.

“Something unnatural,” Hawkins added. His stomach twisted. There was another word he believed could describe the creature. “Another experiment.”