Ryan Lockwood - Below

Sturman grunted as the squid tried to make another run. “Grab the gaff.”

“No. I need it alive.”

“You got a better idea? I don’t know how long he’s gonna be here.”

Despite his obvious strength, he looked exhausted from the fight. She watched as a smaller Humboldt darted up and latched on to the mantle of the hooked squid. Val raised the net over her head and smashed the aluminum frame into the body of the attacking squid. It released its grip and disappeared into the black water.

Val turned and looked around the boat . Come on, Val. Think. She rushed into the cabin and searched for a means of landing the squid, but found nothing. She hurried back to Sturman, who was now bent toward the water, his elbows jammed against the top of the gunwale.

“Sturman, can you bring her around to the transom? Maybe we can slide her onto it when a wave hits.”

He grunted and began working his way to the stern. Val grabbed the transmitter and a coil of rope that was cleated to the side of the boat. She tied a quick loop in the loose end and pulled the rope through the loop to form a makeshift lasso. As a heavy swell rocked into the boat, Sturman pulled hard on the line, and the squid slid up with the water rushing over the transom.

Val leaned forward and slid the loop over the broad fins on the squid’s mantle, then jerked the line tight. “Drop the pole! I need your help!”

A minute later they had managed to drag the thrashing animal into the stern using the coil of rope. Bud was barking nonstop at the unwelcome visitor. Out of the water, its soft body looked weak and flaccid sprawled across the bottom of the boat, which was now covered in foamy seawater. Despite obvious injuries from the other squid, it was still struggling to survive. Its arms writhed and coiled in desperation. A jet of ink spurted from its tubular body, coating their feet in dark fluid.

Sturman, still breathing hard, grimaced. “Bastard’s staining up my boat!”

Bud went quiet and strained against his leash to smell the animal. It lashed out and seized Bud’s head with twin tentacles, dragging the yelping mutt toward its wriggling arms. Sturman stepped forward and slammed his heel onto the squid’s smooth body. The stomp sounded like a water balloon exploding against the ground. Sturman stomped again and it released his dog.

“Goddammit, we need it alive!”

“My dog comes first, Doc. Thing’s already gone, anyway.”

“Well, it is now, isn’t it?” Val sat down. She knew Sturman was right. The Humboldt had been badly damaged by the other squid. It was pointless to waste the transmitter on it.

“How about that? I can still see my footprint on it.”

On the squid’s soft mantle, a glowing footprint was visible where the sole of Sturman’s sandal had struck it. They watched as the glowing print slowly faded to match the reddish hue of the body.

“That’s just the photophores reacting to the impact.”

“Pretty cool.”

“This one is too badly damaged. We need to try again.”

“What we need is another plan. We need to get them out of the water faster.”

Ten minutes later they finished securing the fishing tackle. The squid they had landed lay motionless in the bottom of the boat. Its angry crimson coloration had slowly faded away, until it was simply a large, almost formless slab of pale flesh, marked by large cuts and tears. Sturman squatted down and ran his broad hand over the smooth, lifeless body.

“It isn’t as slimy as I thought it would be. Feels like a giant uncooked chicken breast.”

“Be careful. I think she’s dead, but she might have a final spasm before she goes.”

Sturman ignored her advice. “You keep saying ‘she.’ Is this a female?”

“Probably. That’s a very large Humboldt. The males are usually smaller.” She sighed. “Well, it’s not a total loss. I can dissect this one in the lab. My God, she is one of the bigger ones I’ve ever seen out of the water.”

“She’s one big girl. Is this a really old one, then?”

“It’s probably quite old for a Humboldt, but that’s not saying much. These animals only live for a few years. All cephalopods grow incredibly fast.”

Sturman’s hands moved to the tentacles. He separated one from the arms, stretched it out and ran his palm along the surface. “Its suckers feel like little knives.”

“They have over a thousand of them. Each one is lined with serrated teeth to grip the slick sides of fish.”

Val headed into the cabin as Sturman continued to examine the animal. When she returned a few minutes later he was still looking at it.

“So what now, Doc? Any more ideas?” Sturman stood and turned to face her as she pulled up the back zipper on her wet suit. He shook his head. “No way.”

“Yes.”

“Hell no.”

“I’m getting into the water.”

“You’re not really going in with those things, Doc?”

“Please don’t be so dramatic. I dive with Humboldt squid all the time.” Val began connecting her BC vest and regulator to an air tank in the stern. Dawn was still hours away, but she knew the squid could soon start their descent to deeper water.

“Maybe so. But not these ones. Hell, you saw what this one just tried to do to my dog!” Sturman kicked the side of the squid heaped in the stern of his boat. “You saw what they did to Steve Black.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll make sure I’m tethered to the boat, and I’ll surface immediately if I’m worried by their behavior. They’re normally afraid of unfamiliar objects, like a person in scuba gear. I’ll be lucky to get near one.”

“Steve was in scuba gear.”

Val paused. “True. But we’re still not absolutely positive he was attacked by Humboldt squid. And even if he was, it must have been under incredibly rare circumstances.”

Sturman shook his head. “You’re fucking serious, aren’t you?”

“We need to attach the transmitter to a healthy squid, or else there will be no reliable way to follow this shoal and find out if it might be a threat.” She fixed Sturman with a hard stare. “You have any better ideas?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t understand how tracking them now is going to help us figure out what they’ve already done. Give me a minute to think.”

“I can get a better idea what their habits are and we can warn the local authorities if they move too close to shore. Look, we can’t risk the shoal getting away. They’re here now.” Val slid a neoprene hood tightly over her head and adjusted it around her face. Unlike most of her dives with Dosidicus , before which she usually felt excited, this time she felt a hint of fear. She couldn’t let Sturman know. Without his cooperation, she couldn’t make this dive.

“Let me do it, then.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Val smiled, and was grateful for the neoprene covering much of her face. Considering how dangerous Sturman saw the situation as being, it was brave of him to offer to go in her place. “I have much more experience with these animals than you do. If they do get agitated, I can read their behavior. Besides, this is your boat. It makes more sense to have you topside.”

Sturman looked her up and down, making her feel self-conscious in the unflattering full-body wet suit and hood.

“That’s a good look on you, Doc.”

“Let’s be serious, Sturman. I know you’re worried, but I don’t want to joke around now. I know these animals better than almost anyone in the world. Despite how crazy this must seem to you, I’m not suicidal.”

Sturman looked her in the eyes. “How do you plan to get this”—he picked up the transmitter and shook it—“hooked to a squid, underwater, while it’s alive and doesn’t want to be bothered?”