Ryan Lockwood - Below

Captain Dawkins had often wondered what it was like to own a grand vessel like this, to have so many people who called themselves your friends simply because you showed them a good time, to have beautiful young women throw themselves at your feet. He saw this all the time. He’d been a professional captain on many Hollywood yachts over the years. It paid pretty well to be a captain for hire in Southern California, and beat having a desk job.

Dawkins shook his head and looked away from the young actor. Bobby wasn’t a bad kid—he didn’t appear to have a mean bone in his body—but the captain knew how this would turn out. No matter how much money, fame, and sex these guys got, he had seen them all become unhappy. Yes, he wanted a yacht of his own someday—a real boat, not just a little twenty-two-foot fishing boat like he had now—so he could travel the world with his wife. Maybe his two daughters could join them for a leg of the trip, if they had careers then that would allow it. True happiness didn’t come from bedding a lot of women who cared nothing for you, or from six- or seven-figure paychecks. If he ever needed proof, all he had to do was look at people like Bobby.

“Mr. Flynt, may I ask what you’re doing?” The young man had stood and was leaning over the railing, staring intently into the water below.

“The fish are gone. I need to find them!” he shouted back at the captain over the loud music. The actor was taking off his shoes, one at a time. He grinned at the captain.

Dawkins glanced down into the ocean. Flynt was right—he no longer noticed any fish in the hull lights. But his employer was his foremost concern.

“Sir?”

“It’s a beautiful evening, anyway, Captain! I thought I might go for a swim. Maybe I can find the fish.”

“Sir, we’re over a kilometer from shore, and—”

“Lenny, stop worrying so much. Look how amazingly calm it is. I want to be in the water now!”

Dawkins watched as Bobby downed the rest of his drink, then stripped down to his boxer shorts and stepped over the railing, a leg at a time. He paused, holding on to the railing behind his knees, to shout down into the party below in the stern.

“Anyone want to get in the pool with me?”

A few girls shouted incoherently back over the music; then Dawkins watched Bobby dive with surprising grace off the upper deck into the water below. A single small fish darted off in the clear water as his body broke the surface.

Dawkins didn’t like having his passengers swim in open water, especially at night, because of the unknown risks at sea and the very real chance that one of the intoxicated swimmers might drown, or get accidentally left behind if they got too far from the boat. He knew it was senseless to try and stop the other revelers that were now shedding clothes on the bottom deck, though. He needed this job, and as sickening as it was, young Master Flynt was in charge here.

As Dawkins counted the splashes of other people entering the ocean, a statuesque brunette climbed to the top deck and walked past him. She smiled as she pulled her sundress over her head to reveal a beaded necklace dangling between firm breasts against her taut abdomen. Wearing only yellow thong panties, she jumped feetfirst off the top of the yacht with a scream, nearly landing on the swimmers below. After a few minutes, more than a dozen partiers had entered the water to join their host, as the other fifteen or twenty passengers looked on, laughing. Dawkins couldn’t be sure exactly how many had gone in now. Despite the chaotic situation, at least Dawkins was able to see the swimmers in the bright hull lights.

The tall brunette swam over to Flynt, and they coupled and kissed, oblivious to the others around them. Dawkins thought sadly that she looked a lot like his oldest daughter, and wondered if she too was chasing movie stars when he wasn’t around. She did have her own place, after all, and—

“Lenny!” Bobby was shouting up at him.

“Sir? Are you all right?”

Bobby laughed as the brunette clinging to him kissed his face and neck hungrily. “It’s a little too bright down here, Lenny! Think we can get some privacy?”

“Sir?”

“The lights, captain. Turn off the lights!”

“But sir—”

“You don’t want everybody gawking at these poor, exposed women, do you?”

Several men on the boat yelled in opposition to Flynt’s request as the nude women in the water screamed and giggled. The captain shook his head and reached down to the dashboard switch. He paused, then pressed it down. Around the yacht, the water went dark.

Despite the pulse of the deafening music, Dawkins could still hear the shouts and screams of the partiers. And in the dark water next to the boat, at least he could see the eerie, moving glow of the chemically lit jewelry some of the guests were wearing.

He’d leave the lights off just for a few minutes. He didn’t want to upset Flynt, who was as spoiled as any young celebrity with sudden money and fame, but he didn’t want to risk anyone getting hurt, either. Yes, it was an unusually calm night. These situations had a way of luring one into a false sense of security, however. The captain knew very well that accidents happened when intoxicated people went swimming. No matter what the petulant brat wanted, he wasn’t going to compromise everyone’s safety. His hand hovered over the switch for the hull lights, then withdrew.

Just a few minutes. Then he’d turn the lights back on and make everyone get back on board.

With the bright lights gone, the shoal closed toward the prey in the water.

As it had encircled the boat, most of the smaller fish had left the bright lights and gathered into a tight ball several fathoms underneath the floating hulk—still too close to the lights for the shoal to approach—in a defensive formation. Now, with the lights extinguished, the squid hurried in to snatch up the small fish swarming in confusion as they were attacked from every direction. A few of the fish darted for the surface, from where now came an irresistible glow.

The one-eyed female felt deep vibrations emanating from the large object ripple through her soft body, mixed with fainter vibrations from the splashing of the smaller living things around it on the surface. The shoal had consumed the swirling ball of fish under the object in an instant. Now, as the eyes of a thousand of its members quickly adjusted to the darkness, it surged upward toward the larger prey. The ravenous female avoided the nondescript bulk of the larger object to focus on the irresistible glowing lights emitting from the beings moving on the surface around it.

This time the squid did not hesitate to attack. They were no longer unsure of these strange creatures—they posed little threat and provided ample sustenance. The huge, scarred female was the first to seize one of the quarry. She easily dragged it below the surface, joined by several smaller members of the shoal.

The other squid rushed up to meet the warm, blood-rich prey in the dark water, seizing each thrashing individual in many sets of arms and tentacles and dragging them into the deep.

The one-eyed female moved in to clasp one of the creatures, with two of her brothers closing the distance with her. As her companions seized the kicking legs of the creature and began to pull it under the surface, she moved toward its head to find purchase on the body. The animal turned to face her underwater. The large female paused as her black eye met those of her prey. It did not struggle, but reached an appendage slowly toward her, extending what appeared to be a set of smaller tentacles. The massive female hovered motionless next to the submerged prey as it now began to touch her own flesh, gently running its own small appendages along her body. The eyes of the creature widened and its white teeth showed in a small arc.