Paul Zindel: Loch

“Look, you’re a kid …”

“Dad, some fantastic and mind-blowing creatures are trapped out there and you’re just standing by, helping to destroy them.”

“I only work for Cavenger,” Dr. Sam said.

“But you’re the grown-ups!” Loch found himself shouting now. “You’re supposed to do what’s right!”

Dr. Sam looked out at the lake. “Loch, I’m sorry,” he said finally, and started back up the slope to the trailer.

Loch ran after him and stopped him. “You have the codes for the grid. You could open it. The creatures could go back where they came from.”

“I can’t do that,” Dr. Sam said.

“You can.”

“No.”

“What you’re saying is you won’t.”

“You’re out of line, son.”

Loch curled his fingers into a fist. Dr. Sam saw it as well as the look in his son’s eyes. Dr. Sam turned away and opened the trailer door. He went inside, leaving Loch alone in the night.

Dr. Sam had to leave for the base before dawn. Loch and Zaidee were still sleeping in their rooms, so he scrawled them a note:

Good morning!

Please take care of yourselves and stay out

of trouble until I get back. I’ll make it all

up to you. I promise. Camping. A dozen

new computer games. Swim with dolphins

A real vacation. You name it.

Love, Dad

The guard was waiting at the encampment gate when Dr. Sam arrived.

“Today’s the day,” the guard said. Dr. Sam saw the excitement in the guard’s eyes.

“Right,” Dr. Sam said, then drove on through. He parked near the dock, got out, and headed for The Revelation . The thrill of the hunt charged the air as fleet crews and personnel scurried everywhere. The water taxis skimmed between the dock and skiffs like water beetles. A few of the lighter, oldest boats had been replaced in the search formation by the converted PT and a pair of twenty-six-foot metal-hull patrol boats hauled overland from Lake Champlain. The highest security surrounded an army truck delivering a long gray crate to the yacht. Dr. Sam followed the crate up the gangplank.

Cavenger was waiting for the crate in the control room. “Here’s what we’ve been waiting for,” he said as the crew set the crate down against the far wall.

The mood in the control room was confident as Emilio and Randolph unpacked several pieces of heavy-duty artillery. In addition to upgraded electronics systems, the yacht now carried a half dozen automatic guns, a grenade launcher, and several explosive-tip spear guns.

Dr. Sam checked the ammunition supply. “You’ve got enough explosives aboard to blow up half the lake.”

“We’ll use what we have to,” Cavenger said.

Emilio checked the sights on the grenade launcher. “I was certified on this launcher in the army.”

“When?” Dr. Sam asked. “Twenty years ago?”

Randolph slid a clip into an automatic rifle. “It’s like riding a bike,” he said. “Just like riding a bike.”

Loch had heard his father get up that morning and stumble around the trailer to fix his coffee and toast. Loch wanted to get up, go out to the dining nook, and apologize to his dad for his outburst the night before. Instead, he lay on his bed staring at the remains of the cryptids and the sunlight streaming in through the bullet holes in the wall.

When he heard the Volvo drive off, he got up, poured himself a glass of orange juice, and read the note his father had left. The sunshine drew him outside. Barefoot and in his pjs, he walked down to the lake and picked up a handful of pebbles. He sat on the edge of the dock and stared out at the still, glassy surface of the water. One by one he tossed the stones in, watching them splash and send out ever-widening circles. Somewhere out there were Wee Beastie and the giant creatures.

“They’re going to try to kill Wee Beastie and the other creatures today, aren’t they?” came Zaidee’s voice. Loch turned to see his sister in her nightgown munching on a bowl of cereal as she came down the slope.

“Yes,” Loch said. He would have lied to her, but he knew she’d see right through him. Cavenger would slaughter every one of the creatures rather than let them get away.

Zaidee sat next to him on the dock and dipped her toes in the water. “Wee Beastie’s very smart. They don’t know that.”

“No, they don’t,” Loch agreed.

“And if he’s just a kid plesiosaur, you can imagine how smart the big ones are,” Zaidee added.

Loch saw a long, dark shadow emerging from the black water into the clear shallows. He stood. Zaidee spotted it too and jumped up.

“Oh,” Loch said, “it’s just another log.”

“Right. Another log.”

Loch looked to Zaidee. Suddenly, he was fully awake. He jumped up and rushed back toward the trailer.

“Hey, you’re thinking what I’m thinking, aren’t you?” Zaidee asked, running after him.

Inside, Loch grabbed the phone and dialed Sarah. It rang several times before she answered.

“Are you out of your mind?” Sarah’s sleepy voice came out of the receiver. She knew Loch was the only one who’d have the nerve to call so early.

“Do you have to sail with your father today?” Loch asked.

“No.”

“Good.”

“When do you need the jeep?” Sarah moaned.

“No,” Loch said. “A boat.”

“You’ve got a bass boat.”

“A bigger one,” Loch said. “I think I know where the creatures hide.”

By ten A.M. the search fleet was under way, with The Revelation setting the pace for the sweep. The PT was first to the yacht’s port side, with a new documentary photographer Cavenger had flown in from London. The pair of clanking fishing trawlers flanked the fleet. Both trawlers had let out their full lengths of rusted-steel netting by the time the fleet passed Dr. Sam’s trailer camp on the south shore.

Dr. Sam looked up from his console of graphic recorders as they scratched their ink zigzags onto the rolls of graph paper. Out the window he could see the motionless specks of Loch and Zaidee standing on the dock watching the fleet pass. Loch’s words last night repeated inside him as Dr. Sam caught his reflection in the glass.

“Sit down,” Cavenger ordered him.

“Sorry,” Dr. Sam said.

“Today we will be famous,” Cavenger spouted, basking in the glow of the dozen flickering sonar screens. His hands trembled as he tensed forward in the command chair, looking to Emilio and Randolph for their assurance. They smiled and nodded to him.

“This time we’re ready for them,” Emilio said.

“Right,” Randolph agreed.

At the wheel Haskell kept his eyes straight ahead.

It was ten minutes after The Revelation had passed the logging mill that the first significant BLIP hit the screens. By now even Cavenger had learned to read the difference between a beaver or a log and their prey.

“I’ve got one of them,” Cavenger said, his voice cracking with excitement.

“It’s very deep,” Dr. Sam confirmed. “Deep under us.”

Cavenger looked like a ghost in the strobe light. “It’s coming up! Give the alert!”

Randolph went on the PA. “Sighting! All crew in place!”

The harpoon team readied the equipment on the bow. A half dozen other crew members with rifles took their positions topside. Emilio got the alert out over the ship’s radio. A dozen armed men moved to their stations around the perimeter of the PT.

“It’s the big one,” Cavenger said, checking the signal.

“Yes, it’s big,” Dr. Sam confirmed.

“How deep?” Emilio asked.

“Rising from eight hundred feet,” Dr. Sam called as the seconds ticked by. “Eight hundred, seven hundred, six hundred fifty …”