Ominous Wave

By Dalton Smith

The residents of Morning Shell Island are alarmed when their sleepy community is threatened by a series of rogue waves. While in the process of a groundbreaking expedition, a team of scientists and a professional photographer are tasked to examine the source of this disturbing anomaly. Soon, their analysis leads to a hypothesis that exceeds rationalization. With limited time, the team scrambles to divert an impending catastrophe from an enigmatic adversary.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 30, 2018
• ISBN: 9781984552648

Dalton Smith

Dalton Smith is a native Floridian. He holds a degree in marketing and has had a fascination with undersea life since childhood. With this, his first book, Dalton attempts to present an adventure story that is both quick moving and positive in nature. It is Dalton’s hope that the reader is able to a take a break from their busy life, and ride along on this exciting journey.

Book preview

Copyright © 2018 by Dalton Smith.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2018910836

ISBN:                  Hardcover                      978-1-9845-5262-4

                            Softcover                        978-1-9845-5263-1

                            eBook                             978-1-9845-5264-8

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 11/17/2018

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CONTENTS

Middle Seventeenth Century Off The Northeast Coast Of Florida

Chapter 1     Early 21st Century

Four Months Later

Chapter 2     Year: 2030 Morning Shell Island Northeast Coast of Florida

Mainland: Morning Shell Island

Chapter 3     Island Mystery

Point of Attack

Chapter 4     Political Ambition

The Meeting

Reason for Terror

Chapter 5     Offer

Chapter 6     Newcomer

Backfire

Reacquainted

Arrival

Chapter 7     Monster Found

First Impressions

Engineering Marvel

Chapter 8     Elusive

Voyage

Tidal Conqueror

Briefing

Patience

Bounty Denied

Necessary Preparations

Chapter 9     Review

Cold World

Sighted

Alternative Thoughts

Chapter 10   The News

Rare Monster

Chapter 11   New Day

House Guest

Night Out

Chapter 12   Crossroads

False Alarm

New Mission

Clear Coast

Chapter 13   Dare

Chapter 14   Shocker

For Those Who Wait

Unintentional

Direct Focus

Exposed

Chapter 15   Inspection

Responsibility

Disaster Zone

Learning Curve

Chapter 16   Second Thoughts

Chapter 17   Foraging

House Call

Chapter 18   Pressure Cooker

Mission Two

Belief

Backup

First Look

Chapter 19   Confrontation

Surface Return

Survival

Chapter 20   Alternatives

Feelings

Clear Direction

Chapter 21   Secret Gathering

Recognition

Trail of Nourishment

On Location

Appearance

Chapter 22   Debt

Back on Track

Chapter 23   Banquet

Chapter 24   Overreaction

Connection

Puzzle

Strategy

Chapter 25   Honeymoon

After Hours

Chapter 26   Prelude

New Concern

Secret Plot

Explanation

Professional

Ominous

Chapter 27   Dinner Cruise

Mindset

Impending Danger

Short on Time

Chapter 28   Window of Fear

Chapter 29   Brawl

Cards in the Table

Closing In

Only Chance

Chapter 30   Observation Point

Diversion

Pier

Chapter 31   Awakening

On Location

No Alternative

Cooperation

Sunlit Haze

Instinctive

Chapter 32   Precautionary

Rapid Departure

Night Watch

Identity

Impact

Chapter 33   Topic

Moving Day

Showtime

Unanticipated

Chapter 34   Final Hour

Chapter 35   Final Acknowledgments

Titan

Four Months Later

Circle of the Depths

This book is dedicated to my wife.

In memory of my mother.

MIDDLE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY OFF THE NORTHEAST COAST OF FLORIDA

W ave after wave slammed into the side of the merchant vessel. Her wooden hull groaned under the constant assault that was being administered by the gale force winds. All hands attempted to maintain their positions, but to no avail. Nature was now in command. If they could not regain control soon, their hopes, their dreams, their very lives would soon come to a dismal finality.

Only two miles off the shores of St. Augustine, the Spanish galleon was at the end of its long journey. Her mission was to deliver a variety of badly needed supplies to the colonies. Up until this point, weather conditions had been very favorable, making the trip almost incident free. But before landing at their destination, a freak November storm fell upon them without warning. Now, with the only channel to the docks rendered completely unnavigable, the ship was in peril of losing everything.

Vainly, the young crewman tired to assist his shipmates with their dangerous tasks, but his lack of experience under such conditions only threatened their chances for survival. Repeatedly, he was pushed aside and told to stay out of the way. Eventually, his distractive attempts to lend assistance drew the attention of the captain.

Careful not to be swept overboard by the driving rain, the ship’s leader cautiously made his way along the slippery deck, until he had arrived by the crewman’s side. With a grim face, he ordered the young sailor to go below deck, and to wait there until the seasoned crew had gained control of the vessel. Disappointed, the crewman reluctantly agreed, and then carefully made his way over to the damp steps.

Just below the vessel a large animate form watched with unbroken interest. Its movements had been in sync with the ship for the last several miles as it attempted to identify the intruder. Although it was very dark in the nighttime waters, the animal could easily see the object above, and had already determined that it was slow, weak, and relatively small. The animal could also tell that the object was not a prey organism, or for that matter, any other type of living entity. For now, it rested on the ocean bottom, observing the strange visitor, waiting for a signal that would dictate the animal’s next course of action.

His journey below deck proved nearly as dangerous as braving the hazards topside. With no lateral support, the crewman had slammed into the bulkhead as the ship was tossed about by the evershifting gale-force winds. He tried to cushion the impact with his elbow, but a painful injury was not to be avoided.

With his hand braced against the inner hull, the young sailor slowly rose to his feet. A dark bruise had already started to form along the edge of the injured joint. He grits his teeth, as if this action would somehow reduce the level of growing discomfort.

It was at that moment that he began to regret his decision to participate in this endeavor. The choice to enlist had been made in haste: a short-term solution to his then dismal economic status. He was, after all, an artist by trade. But his renderings of exotic animal life had never provided him the means necessary to sustain an adequate living. Thus he had been forced to pursue a different line of work; one that he was not at all comfortable with.

Nevertheless, at this point in time, he was a part of the crew. And he would not allow his shipmates to struggle in vain while he took refuge in the ship’s safer confines. Despite the captain’s orders, he would somehow find a way to help.

Although it gave no signs of life, the animal knew that the strange object above might actually contain living organisms. It had learned through experience that many prey animals took to hiding, camouflaging, or simply using whatever means necessary to avoid being located by one of its lethal appendages.

It was not native to this environment, for the animal’s natural habitat was that of the deep, lightless regions of the Atlantic Ocean. But it was an inquisitive explorer, and it had already learned enough about this strange brightly lit world to investigate every possible opportunity for a chance to feed.

Captain and crew alike held on to any stable object that was within their reach. Time was short. If the unrelenting elements did not lessen their assault within the next few moments the crew would have to abandon their vessel and take their chances in the merciless ocean.

As the captain turned to locate his first mate, an unusual object drew his gaze toward the sky. He looked up, craning his neck back to get a better view. There, cast against a backdrop of racing storm clouds and partially diluted moonlight, was a lone figure, desperately trying to maintain his balance atop the upper deck.

Moving with tactical precision, the huge limbs stretched out towards the helpless ship. Each one would climb the hull from a different angle, and each one would then search individually for anything that could be deemed living.

He had made a serious error. In his attempts to aid his shipmates, the young sailor had taken it upon himself to locate a safe path in which the vessel could navigate. But after being exposed to the storm’s violent fury across the upper deck, he realized that he could not be of assistance. In fact, all he could do now was to hang on and hope that the situation improved for all of their sakes.

Something new drew the captain’s eye. He turned away from the stranded crewman and looked over towards the port side. And for a moment, just for a moment, he thought his heart would burst through his chest.

A powerful gust, approaching hurricane speed, nearly blew the crewman off the rain soaked deck. He could wait no longer. With his fingers grasping the wooden rail as tightly as possible; the young sailor slowly began to make his way over towards the stairs. As he approached the slippery steps, he momentarily looked down. Then, he almost went into shock.

The crew was abandoning the vessel. He changed his gaze toward the dark ocean where he could see his shipmates swimming desperately away from the galleon. There were no lifeboats, no flotation, no organization, just a blind panic to escape the ship’s inevitable destruction.

Bewildered, the crewman tried to fathom the cause of such an evacuation. Why had they not waited for the storm to ease? What could have provoked the captain to give such an irrational, desperate order? Had the vessel taken on too much water? Fatigue and exhaustion suddenly began to overwhelm him as the answers continued to evade his thoughts.

He looked below again; then discovered the horrifying reason for their desertion.

They came up from all sides. Like individual units of destruction, the huge serpentine forms savaged anything in their paths. Their movements were alien, unnatural, and seemed purposefully driven to cause terror. He stared in horror. Stories of such an animal were pervasive among sailors, but the crewman never believed that he would actually view such a monster. Let alone, several of them. A sudden change in the ship’s position on the water caught him by surprise. It felt as if an overwhelming force, more powerful that the churning sea itself, had taken hold of the vessel. He readied himself by slipping his arms around the supports for the stair rails; then prepared for the worst.

It could neither feel nor taste any life forms with its probing limbs. To investigate further, it would need to add its strong visual acuities to the search. The animal began to pull the greater bulk of its massive body away from its liquid home and out into a strange, waterless environment.

Below the crewman, two huge eyes now made their appearance. They were soon followed by a colossal mass of flesh, looking not unlike a large head. Restrained by morbid curiosity, he stared at the assailant, disregarding his own safety as his mind tried to piece together details in the dark night. Of what relation were these eyes to the other serpent like animals?

His attention shifted down toward the steps below him. Apparently, one of the serpents had spotted him and was now advancing. He watched as the muscular dark brown object maneuvered its way along the rain soaked wood. The crewman was repulsed by the hideous site of this slithering nightmare. Its flesh was very odd for a serpent for it contained no scales, and unlike the monstrous animal in the water, it had no eyes. But he did notice several mouths as the assailant revealed its gruesome underside. His only chance to escape from the pursuing thing was to jump, and risk his life in the stormy sea.

He made ready. With luck he would be able to clear the boat, land in the water and avoid the strange attackers. He knew the location of the shoreline so there was a good chance that he would be able to make it to safety. And maybe he would catch up with some of his shipmates as they swam across the cresting waves.

His grip was nearly broken as the vessel inexplicably rocketed back in the other direction. He held tight as the ship made a determined effort to regain its normal buoyant position atop the hostile water. When it seemed reasonably stable the crewman looked back down along the stairs toward the lower deck.

The animals were leaving, all of them. He noticed the serpent below him was recoiling, pulling itself rapidly away from his location. Seconds later, all the animals disappeared into the Atlantic. The only proof of their existence was an array of crushed items strewn across the deck, forming a trail of destruction that marked their paths of travel.

Happy to be alive, the young man started to make his way back down the slippery alignment of damp steps. As he began his descent, he couldn’t help but wonder why the animals had left so quickly, so recklessly. No matter, just knowing that they were spared from such monsters was reason enough to be grateful. His attention now turned to locating his shipmates.

Moonlight eventually broke through the departing storm clouds, casting a greenish hue to the calming ocean. The rain had ebbed and the crew had become plainly visible amongst the low rising swells. The young man waved to them, trying to get them to swim toward the galleon. But they did not hear him, or make any attempt to reach the ship. The shoreline was just ahead and their efforts were solely focused on reaching it. Their movements seemed as frantic as when the ship was first attacked. But surely the danger had passed, there was no longer a need to risk ones lives in the chilling Atlantic. Surely they must know—

A deafening roar forced the young man to turn around and look out toward the ocean’s horizon. He only saw it for a split second. A mountainous dark shape as it enveloped the night sky. Instantly, the vessel was engulfed by this unknown, unfathomable colossal force. The sound of cracking timber filled the air as the assailant demolished the Spanish galleon; turning the proud flagship into a jagged collection of shattered debris.

A few moments later, all was calm. The rains had completely ceased, the winds had died and all that could be heard was the sound of the crew as they made their way towards the shoreline.

Ch.1

Early 21st Century

A n eerie squeal bellowed from the heavy box as it scraped its way along the bare concrete floor. A fine silt-like haze started to cloud the unfurnished room. The part time inventory assistant stood up and began to wave his hands about in the air. Once the irritating condition had improved, he looked over to his supervisor and shook his head. Tell me again why we have to go through all this old junk?

His supervisor put down her small hand held PC and took off her glasses. Because Henry said to be thorough with everything. No matter what its condition.

But this crate; look at it. There couldn’t possibly be anything inside that the restoration department could want.

Well, I agree, but it’s not our place to question his decision. If he wants this…garbage then that’s his business. Does it have any type of identification on it?

The assistant lowered his head and quickly scanned around all four corners.

Nope. Nothing that I can see.

Then you’re going to have to open it up. Crowbar’s in the corner.

He let out a disapproving grunt and made his way over to grab the tool.

With crowbar in hand, he looked down at the tattered old crate. Glancing across the rough exterior he soon found a gap between the lid and one of the sides. The robust man drew back his arms, and then lunged forward with all his weight. Small brown fragments shot across the room as the metal bar crushed its way deep into the side, just below the opening.

Careful! she yelled.

The man shrugged and then started to lean down on the bar.

A forbidding wail echoed off the walls as the rusted nails yielded their ancient hold on the decaying wood. Once opened, the assistant picked up the lid and discarded it onto the floor where it bounced several times before coming to a rest. At first glance, all the contents revealed were an array of moldy packing material scattered about the surface. Realizing that the contents were probably all jammed in at the bottom, he then reached down, moving his hand deep into the center of the crate. With luck, he wouldn’t find anything of interest. It was almost closing time and he didn’t want to be stuck labeling a bunch of specimen jars until the middle of the night.

His fingers glided over the top of a smooth rounded object. Its back was curved and broad while the front sloped down, ending at what felt like a sharp flexible stick. Curious, the assistant pulled it up from the bottom of the box and hoisted it high into the air. He immediately dropped it. Yuck, he said.

What is it?

I think it’s a dried up old horseshoe crab.

"Now that, you can throw away."

We really hit the jackpot with this crate.

Just keep searching.

After arranging the contents in a semi-organized lineup, he turned to gain his supervisor’s attention. There you go, he said, pointing to the crude display of items. That’s all of it, the crate’s empty now.

All right. I’ll have a look.

It only took a moment for her to confirm that the objects were indeed worthless. You were right, she said. Junk.

A second before she gave the order to have the contents discarded, a lone jar with a metal lid caught her eye. What’s that? she asked.

The assistant leaned over and picked up the glass container. It was unlabeled. Inside, a hunk of light beige meat swirled around in gray liquid solution.

Have any dinner plans tonight? he said with a broad smile. But she was not amused.

We’d better have our chemical analysis department come look at it, she said.

You’re kidding? Why waist the most highly advanced tissue analysis procedure ever developed on this…stuff?

"Because it’s our job. Now look around, there must be something here that can give us the point of origin."

His second examination revealed little more than the first. Now back on his feet, he let out a long exaggerated sigh.

Sorry, still nothing, he said.

How about inside the actual crate itself. That might give us a clue.

Yeah, good idea.

She peered down into the box. The musty crate contained no information on or in it. Smirking, she turned and noted the discarded lid on the floor. After carefully turning it over, she spotted a hand carved inscription on one of the planks, Look here, she said, It’s old! If this is accurate, we’re talking more than one hundred years in fact.

There you go then.

She handed the splintered lid to the assistant and instructed him to fill out the appropriate forms. As he walked away he took a moment to glance down at the carving. It said:

Anastasia Island Florida, 1897

Four Months Later

Silence filled the elevator as soon as the highly polished steel doors made their connection. A second or two passed before the top button was hesitantly pressed. It was a button that denoted a special floor, the area reserved for the company’s owners. As the elevator started to rise the man closed his eyes, trying to relax. Even though his credentials spoke volumes, his latest proposal could not only threaten his career, it had the potential to destroy his reputation as well.

Henry Sullivon had been Vice President of Time Skimmer Industrial for just under two years now. He had originally accepted a supervisory position with the internet giant back in 2005. During that period, Time Skimmer Industrial was a small company growing rapidly; but not rapidly enough in Henry’s view. His vision for the organization looked beyond a simple one dimensional focus, but his concept would require substantial change. Henry knew it would be a difficult sell, but he was determined to see his plan through.

He developed a proposal that would have Time Skimmer Industrial using a portion of its capital to invest in several unrelated industries. Henry introduced his concept to senior management, attempting to convince them that diversity was the most effective growth plan for the company. Unfortunately they found his view of the market to lie somewhere between the world of fantasy and paranoia. Discouraged, but not defeated, he decided to present his ideas to the company’s owners. Although this presented great internal risks politically, he felt that it was the only way to effectively convey his message.

His strategy paid off. The owners looked at Henry’s idea in a completely different light. Not because of the proposal itself, but more for the type of person Henry Sullivon represented in their eyes. They were impressed by his determination and sincerity. For them, it was a refreshing change to hear from an employee who was more concerned with Time Skimmer Industrial’s long-term growth rather than its short-term profits. Based almost entirely on his character alone, they implemented his suggestions.

The next few years brought dramatic changes for the company. New management teams were formed and intercompany policies were completely reevaluated. Their diversification strategy proved very challenging in the beginning, but over time, with the help of Henry’s unique management style, its effectiveness became readily apparent. After five short years, the firm’s profits were exceeding even the most optimistic expectations. Long before the term ‘thinking outside the box’ became an antiquated industry catchphrase, Henry Sullivon had successfully redefined what corporate success and growth meant to the leaders of his company.

Once Time Skimmer Industrial had been firmly established as a world leader in several unrelated industries, Sullivon’s efforts were duly rewarded. His rise up the corporate ladder of positions and titles was nothing short of phenomenal. Executives who once assigned Henry his busy agenda were now answering to his schedule of priorities. Although many of his jealous colleagues suspected that Henry’s brilliant ascension was due in part to favoritism by the owners, few could deny his worthiness or his achievements.

Before long, Henry Sullivon was promoted to Vice President of Time Skimmer Industrial. His first initiative following the promotion was to place even more emphasis on their subsidiaries. Some of the smaller unrelated businesses had contributed handsomely to the parent company’s bottom line. Others were floundering and in need of assistance or reevaluation. Whatever the challenge, Henry was committed to the expansion and breadth of Time Skimmer Industrial’s varied portfolio.

Besides, one of their lesser known establishments had recently provided him with a report, one that contained information that was almost beyond the limitations of reason.

Time Skimmer Industrial-Restore, their renovation facility, had stumbled across an amazing find, a find that would startle and shock the entire world, if it were revealed to the public. They discovered absolute proof of an ancient legend, a legend that had once fascinated Henry when he was a child. A legend so fearsome and large, that upon hearing the news Henry immediately began formulating a plan for its marketing.

At first glance, the logistics and technical problems appeared to be insurmountable. But further investigation revealed that the answers to these barriers were not only solvable, their solutions rested within the very subsidiaries that he so proudly defended. Bottom line: his plan was not only possible; it was well within their reach.

But the greatest obstacle of all had yet to be resolved.

Last year Time Skimmer Industrial had reported record gains to their shareholders. Henry’s unorthodox business techniques had provided the company with its most prosperous year to date. Last year the new Vice President’s instincts were not only revered, they were put on a pedestal. Last year his latest proposal would have been approved without question. But that was last year, an eternity in the corporate world.

A changing of the guards had recently taken place. The original founders had sold the company to its new owners, and with it, a substantial amount of Henry’s power. Although every effort had been made to keep the Vice President’s status as an empowered decision-maker intact, the new leaders took a different view of what Sullivon’s role in the company should be. They did not warm up to Henry’s grand vision of a diverse and broad Time Skimmer Industrial. In fact, they considered his past achievements to be more accredited to luck rather than savvy business intuition. They were also annoyed by his recent decision to create a casual working environment, devoid of suits and business attire. There was little common ground between the new guard and the old school. And Henry realized that if his latest project, his most ambitious dream, failed to meet the approval of his new ‘superiors’, his remarkable discovery would become little more than just another amazing statistic in the world of natural science.

A pair of dark brown mahogany doors greeted Henry upon exiting the elevator.

He took a long deep breath; then slowly turned the gold plated door handle. Instinctively he ducked, momentarily forgetting that even his lean six foot seven inch frame was in no danger of making contact with the vaulted entranceway. Inside was an enormous conference table that occupied a majority of the floor space. The air was unusually cold and the lighting strangely inadequate. At the far end sat a lone figure, the company’s chairman of the board. Henry proceeded to walk around the table. His noisy dress shoes echoed off the marble floor, making him feel even more uncomfortable in the already intimidating environment. Despite his obvious lack of subtlety, the new owner never so much as raised her head. All of her attention seemed devoted to a small table mounted laptop. When Henry arrived at her location, she held up her hand in a motion to wait.

Good morning Henry. I was just reacquainting myself with your proposal. It would seem that you have, shall we call it, a rather ambitious agenda laid out for our subsidiaries. That is, if I were to approve of this plan.

If? He didn’t like the sound of that. Yes Ms. Brasker, the smaller business units do play an integral part during most of the initial phases. I believe that my cost analysis, which is included, provides a specific breakdown showing exactly how much each division contributes—

Yes Henry, I’ve been over the entire report. There is no need to embellish individual particulars.

Ms. Brasker closed the laptop, stood up from the table and walked over to an enormous video display covering three quarters of the back wall, showing a real-time image of Puget Sound. There was a