Superfreak: MerSea series, #1

By Melissa Crismon

Wounded by her parents' traumatic divorce and content with no love life, marine biologist Sarah Sumner is determined to fight for those who have no voice.

Aboard the anti-whaling vessel, the MerSea, she throws smoke bombs and creates mayhem for the Japanese whalers in the Southern Ocean with Gunner, a fellow deckhand. His compassion and gallows humor make a warm, lasting impression that could melt the ice in Antarctica.

At the end of the campaign, Sarah is stung by a mutant stingray in Australia where she begins morphing into a mermaid. She heads home to California, returning to her job at the Mobi Institute with a secret, not to mention an identity crisis.

While mooring the tempest of her freakish body, she must choose either to advance her career or to continue her expeditions. She longs to save sharks from being finned, but if she returns to the MerSea she can still save lives and explore the waters with Gunner.

Hurt by her father abandoning her years ago and apprehensive about Gunner's fresh divorce is a shipwreck waiting to happen. And how would they start a relationship with a tail?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melissa Crismon
• Release date: Dec 21, 2020
• ISBN: 9780997376111

Melissa Crismon

Melissa Crismon came out of the womb singing, influenced by her mom’s harmonizing in a Southern California rock band. With a creative background in modern dance, pedal harp, voice, and diary keeping, the natural step, was writing about an adventurous mermaid. She never thought her winsome sailor would be answering all her nautical questions with help from a little mermaid, a big-eyed Chihuahua, and a purry kitty.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The sea of blue mimicked a drop of watercolor on wet paper, bleeding through the current. Sarah expected a palette of grays, but it was summer in Antarctica. Being from sunny California, she figured she would be fine trying to sleep in the twenty-four hour days of sunlight for two-and-a-half months.

The bright sun bounced off the sea, blinding her. She swayed stiffly, bundled in her orange jacket and pants, and black helmet. Inside the Southern Ocean Whale Sanctuary, waves sloshed the seventeen foot Zodiac named OhShe, maneuvering between sea ice. Freezing water kicked up into Sarah’s burning face. She gripped the frame with both hands, bumping her helmet against the metal.

Grabbing her arm, Swedish shipmate and fellow deckhand, Gunner, steadied her. His touch calmed her mind. He had her back. Her gaze met his hazel eyes peeking out from his mask and helmet. Her heart pounded as the speedboat pursued the Katsuro Mori, the Japanese whaling ship. In the months she had been on the MerSea, the danger of confronting the whalers kept her heart thumping.

Radley, a deckhand, piloted the Zodiac along the stern, close enough for Sarah and Gunner to throw smoke canisters. The Aussie cox’n had a need for speed and liked to take the boat to the maximum of forty-two miles per hour.

Mustering, whalers dotted the starboard, ready for action.

She pulled the release then threw the harmless canister high. A puff of pink smoke trailed through the air. Sarah called it the can of smoke and mirrors because the weapon only created an illusion to distract the whalers. An obnoxious alarm from the Katsuro Mori rang in her ears. A canister flew from behind her, out of Gunner’s hand. From the wheel, Radley let out a raucous yell of affirmation.

A strong force of pressurized water hit Sarah’s helmet, amplifying the spray. The direction of the blast moved down her body then shot her in the chest, knocking her back. Water trickled under the orange protective gear, mixing with sweat. She rubbed her collar. Icy, cotton clothes tensed her muscles.

Go, go, go, go, go. Gunner urged Radley as he kept his eye on the whaler with the flashbang grenade.

Before Sarah could stabilize herself, Radley’s sudden take-off jerked her sideways.

Scientists, as the Japanese called themselves, threw flashbangs toward the conservationists.

Sarah closed her eyes, knowing her helmet wouldn’t protect her ears from the bang. Scientists. Scientists for what? To cover up an appetite for whale. They are living, feeling mammals. The bang penetrated her ears and she squeezed her eyes. Blood coursed through her veins as the ship pursued a pod of whales. Radley sped beyond the bow of the whaling hulk and Sarah released monofilament line from the back of the rumbling Zodiac.

It’s taut. Cold wind brushed her face. She hoped the line had caught in the ship’s propeller.

Full speed, Radley blocked the machine of death from the whales. The enormous vessel towered over the bouncy racer.

Slow down! Get stuffed! Radley cursed even though the Japanese couldn’t hear him, much less understand his Australian slang.

Sarah’s heart pounded. For sure, she would die being crushed by metal. The gigantic ship glided closer. She inhaled at the suspense of Radley’s next move. The small boat sped off. She exhaled.

A harpoon sliced through the air.

Wait! Sarah yelled.

As the Zodiac halted, the harpoon pierced a humpback whale. Sarah’s breath caught and her heart throbbed. A boom from the grenade exploding inside the leviathan had Sarah jumping out of her skin. OhShe bobbed beneath her feet. Her mouth hung open. Blood trailed behind the mammal being pulled through the ocean.

Wee, look Mom no hands. Gunner waved his hands in the air.

Up the whaler’s ramp the humpback whale went—exposed blood and guts. Sarah fisted her hands into tight balls.

I’m going for a ride then I’m off to school to be eaten by ankle-biters, Radley said in a high-pitched voice.

Sarah’s lungs rattled with every breath. Her blood boiled. The guys had told her they’d reacted the same way too on their first campaign.

This was a long way from Dana Point, California. She couldn’t have picked a colder, more remote, more extreme place. The first time she saw all the icebergs she’d realized she didn’t belong here—no human did.

Sarah met Gunner’s knowing expression of what’s done is done. They couldn’t change what had happened.

Mates, it’s not over. Radley steered toward the whalers. Get the butyric acid.

I thought we weren’t using acid anymore since they are lying in court about it being battery acid. Sarah waited for the okay to use the canisters of rotten butter.

Gunner opened the chest then took out a couple of cans of acid. Bombs away, he said casually, handing her the ammo.

She took the acid with relish since the monofilament line hadn’t worked. With the whalers busy with their spoils, Radley skirted the factory-ship. This attempt had to count. Reaching back to her high school softball days, Sarah aimed at the stack and threw the container. The canister spun through the air. She held her breath, wondering if it would reach into the belly of the ship. The flask hit the stack’s edge of the opening, bouncing and ricocheting against metal then down the hole. She exhaled.

Gunner’s attempt hit a busy group of whalers.

Pumping her fists in the air, she let out a cry of victory. Grief lifted from her once again. With gloved hands, she high-fived the men, thrilled the ship would stink for weeks.

The whaling ship turned away from the pod. Tension released from Sarah’s shoulders. Soaked in icy salt water, she panted in her wet uniform. She squirmed in sweat and briny water forming icicles. Radley turned back to the MerSea.

Her hard breathing slackened to a normal rhythm. The Fur Real Seals, as the Zodiac team called themselves, reached the three hundred foot vessel. Gunner hooked the dependable hull to the portside of the ship. Sarah pulled herself up the rails of the ladder with tired arms.

Ace. Sarah’s Aussie roommate, Jane, lent a hand to step on deck.

Gunner and Radley climbed aboard and took off their helmets. Gunner’s shaggy, dirty blond hair fell in his face. Sarah found him cuter now that his hair had grown out through the months. She forced herself to look away. Radley raked a hand through his thick brown hair then padded stray hairs. On the stern, he and Gunner helped Jane maneuver the boat to the skids.

The black-matte watercraft hung in the air by a crane. On the bow, sharp white teeth glimmered under menacing eyes. Any sailor acting illegally would have fear struck in his heart seeing the speedy shark girl.

Sliding the helmet over her ears, Sarah welcomed the release of pressure. Time to peel off the prison uniform.

Try wearing orange with auburn hair, A rosy-cheeked Boatswain Tammy said.

Tammy’s clashing uniform was hardly something to complain about. She had the legs of a supermodel with a perfect complexion and no makeup. Her maroon beanie and fiery ponytail added color to her face.

Focusing on the hanging Zodiac, Tammy hollered at the crew, Easy. You break it, you pay for it.

Tammy’s only flaw was that she was a bit of a hard ass. She wasn’t seen as one the girls even though she ate with Sarah and the others.

The Zodiac eased into place at the stern. Gunner hurried to Sarah and wrapped a blanket around her. She thanked him then rushed to her quarters with uniform in hand.

As she changed into dry clothes next to her bunk, she hopped around in the cold air. Looking in the mirror inside her locker, she toweled off tendrils of hair and the end of her short ponytail that hadn’t been covered. Her teammates, Gunner and Radley, had taught her how to deal with gruesome situations. At first she didn’t get their gallows humor, but then she came to expect it. If it wasn’t for them she would be in tears every time a whale was murdered, not being able to finish the mission. Examining herself in the mirror, she exhaled, grabbed her jacket and then headed to the mess deck.

Rich, roasted coffee permeated the warm dining area. A few of the crew high-fived her as she lilted to the beverage table. The tinkling of hot water filling the cup sent a wave of comfort through her. She put a tea bag in the water then waited for the honey to run down the plastic, bear container. Pulling the string on the tea bag, she dunked the honey.

She found a spot next to Jane with Tammy and Melinda at their usual booth. The four had become fast-friends. Melinda, the ship’s photographer, who also hid her blonde hair under a black beanie, congratulated Sarah. Boatswain Tammy fist-bumped her.

Chef got it set up? Sarah asked Jane under her breath.

Jane nodded. Congrats. We needed this win afte’ losin’ that mama whale yesterday, alon’ with a chunk of the pod. Her smile lit up. Dark brown bangs poked from under the rim of her black beanie.

Sarah loved to hear Jane’s Western Australian lilt, but she still frowned at the loss of one whale. Jane always chose the positive in everything. Sarah was thankful for her take.

Sarah focused on Gunner and Rad as they made their way to the coffee pot. They couldn’t live without coffee. They drank it all day long. They made odes to the roasted drink. An elbow poked Sarah’s side as Jane kept her attention on the guys. Tammy turned in the booth following the line of sight to the guys filling their cups. With his nose hovering over the mug, Rad inhaled the dark roast. They sat against the windows on a bench. At Gunner’s wink, Sarah smiled like a schoolgirl.

In brotherly unison, Gunner and Rad took a sip. An instant cough came out of Rad.

Gunner spit the coffee back into the mug, jerking up. What the . . .

The guys eyed the girls. Sarah’s lips widened. Jane shook her roomie’s shoulders, busting out laughing.

Gunner sauntered over with Rad behind. "Okay. I suppose we deserved that. That was nasty tasting."

At least you didn’t gulp it. Rad touched his Adam’s apple. My throat burns. What was in it, battery acid?

Cayenne pepper, black pepper— Sarah said.

And salt, Jane added.

You didn’t use the ship’s supplies did you? Tammy kept to the rules, being the Boatswain in charge of all the deckhands.

No, Jane and I bought coffee and spices when we were in Hobart last month.

Chef Dour shuffled to the booth wearing a stained white apron over his belly. The lassies got you good. His throaty laugh had the texture of a smoker’s. Deep creases around his smile held up pudgy cheeks. "I was all in when I heard you loons put plastic wrap on their toilets. Not nice. Funny, but not nice." He rested a hand on his stomach, chuckling.

It was great in the middle of the night. Sarah pursed her lips, glaring at Gunner.

Captain Barry ducked to walk through the door, followed by first mate Ethan. Dour took the coffee pot and everyone sat at their usual places. Turning toward the corner of the room for the report, Sarah sipped the tea. The steam from the mug burned her lips.

Okay, everybody listen up. Barry stood tall, strong shoulders against the outdated wood-paneled bulkhead and his head bent over a clipboard.

His lean build reminded Sarah of her old softball coach.

Ethan whistled for attention from the murmuring over the day’s event. He had the typical vegetarian appearance: pasty white and skinny with lackluster brown hair. The crew silenced from one end to the other.

"I’d first like to congratulate the Fur Real Seals," Barry said.

Blood rushed to Sarah’s cheeks from the hooting and hollering.

When she first came aboard ship, Gunner and Radley told her they needed a team name