Dave Freedman - Natural Selection

In the Vertol, Darryl aimed once more. Completely focused on his target, he didn’t notice the other helicopter’s ladder, caught in a current of wind and speeding down toward the creature. Just as he released he saw it, heading to the same exact spot on the creature as his now-speeding projectile….

“ What the hell is that!” Craig screamed.

He’d just spotted the ladder himself. It was coming from his helicopter. If the harpoon caught the ladder and creature simultaneously… He turned the chopper up violently but too late. The stake knifed into the ladder, simultaneously plunged into the animal, and Craig instantly felt a pull on his machine. He spun around. “Unhook the goddamn ladder!!”

Phil jumped to the ladder hook, but it was impossibly tight. “It won’t unhook!”

“Then cut it! Cut it right now!”

Phil looked around over the wind. “With what?!”

Craig ripped open a compartment and two red Swiss Army knives dropped out, sliding under the seats. They all reached down to find them… just as the predator began flapping, flying straight up.

Craig bolted up, holding the knives, shoving one to Jason, the other back to Phil. “Cut the damn ladder! Cut it right now! ”

As Jason and Phil began cutting, Craig realized the creature was gone, the ladder now above the helicopter. If the ladder got caught in the speeding propeller blades… He gunned the machine higher, craning his head to see the animal. He couldn’t see it. Where the hell was it?!

It was plunging straight down. Wings pulled tight, it was behind the chopper, dive-bombing toward the ocean.

Jason jerked his head violently. A black shape blurred past, moving with astonishing speed. But the helicopter was still ascending….

“Craig! You’re going the wrong way!”

“What!” Summers couldn’t hear over the wind.

“The wrong way! You’re going the wrong way! ”

But even as he screamed the words, Jason knew it was too late. If they didn’t change direction instantly, the ladder would tighten and then—

Suddenly the chopper jerked onto its side.

His seat belt off, Phil almost fell out the open door. The chopper jerked again, and Phil slid straight out. With both hands, Jason grabbed him, pulling him back in.

Craig frantically pulled the levers, trying to right the machine. It was too late. The chopper turned over and entered free fall.

“Bail out!” Craig screamed, “Bail out! Bail out! Bail out!”

From under the seats, he grabbed orange parachutes, shoving two to Jason and Phil.

Phil frantically put his on, but Jason couldn’t get his hand through a strap.

“Bail out! Bail out! Bail out!”

The world started spinning… ocean and sky, ocean and sky…

“Bail out! Bail out! Bail out!”

Craig couldn’t undo his seat belt. Phil lunged toward him, trying to help.

Jason got his hand through the strap then felt toward the open door. Trying to focus, he watched as Phil yanked frantically on Craig’s seat belt. He couldn’t undo it. Jason just watched. He didn’t want to leave them.

“Bail out, Jason!” Phil screamed. Then he eyed him for a brief moment. “I’m sorry.”

Jason flew out the door, instantaneously plunging toward the sea. He felt along his chest, trying to find the rip cord. It wasn’t there. He frantically patted his chest. He found a little tab and pulled. He was sucked up into the air.

The chopper hurtled downward, Phil frantically tugging at the seat belt. “I can get it, Craig! I can get it!” But when the seat belt unclicked, Phil suddenly realized what Craig Summers already knew. It was too late for both of them. What had been a spinning kaleidoscope of ocean and sky suddenly became all ocean. The water rushed closer incredibly fast and…

THE CHOPPER didn’t sink immediately. Like a drowning windmill, its rotors labored mightily against the sea. It floated for several seconds, then submerged.

Jason entered the sea feetfirst, the ocean’s chill hitting his skin. He quickly removed the sopping-wet parachute and floated. It was suddenly very quiet, nothing but tiny breaking waves and light wind. He looked around nervously. The creature was still alive. Somehow, he knew it, he sensed it, even if its gills had dried out, it was still alive. And it was in the water with him. He looked up as the huge Vertol descended, Darryl at the helm now, Lisa looking down from the open door, weeping.

Jason suddenly sensed something behind him. There was a loud splash. He spun around and… A breaking wave. He felt sick. Craig Summers and Phil Martino were gone. Perhaps the creature was too. As the Vertol’s blades started flattening the water around him, he realized if the Demonray was somehow dead—and still harpooned to the Sikorsky—its body would be dragged to bottom of the ocean. They’d never see it again, never know for sure what had happened….

He dove, kicking as hard as he could. With sun-dappled water surging past his face, he quickly knifed lower…. Then he saw it far below him, something very large, descending slowly toward the depths. It was the helicopter, he could make out the bright yellow. He caught up to the machine, grabbing the trailing ladder. It pulled him lower, and he guessed the depth at a hundred feet. The water was darkening. Hand over hand, he climbed lower still, and forgot about the creature. He had to get Craig and Phil, their bodies. Barely able to breathe, he reached the passenger-side door and… There was nothing there, both men ripped out of their seats by the impact. Craig Summers and Phil Martino were gone.

Jason let go at a hundred and thirty feet and, strangely, didn’t feel like he needed to breathe. He just floated in the half-light, watching as the machine descended toward the darkness. Then the end of the ladder was pulled down and past him. One of Darryl’s harpoons was attached to it. But nothing else was. The creature was still alive.

He began swimming up. They had to find the Demonray fast, and he knew exactly how.

“ I’VE GOT to get my scuba gear!”

Sopping wet and hanging from the lifeline, Jason wasn’t even inside the helicopter yet. “And harpoons!” He climbed in awkwardly, collapsing on the metal floor. “And I got to get them right now.”

As Lisa slammed the door closed, Darryl’s face was blank. He looked down at the smashed orange parachute in the sea below. “It’s still alive?”

“I realized even if its gills did dry up, it might be able to get oxygen through its spiracle.”

Darryl nodded. “I’m sorry about Phil.”

Jason paused, looking up. “I’m very sorry about Craig, Darryl.”

“At least it’s out of the trees.”

“It will be back. Unless we find it first, it will be back.”

“Then let’s get that equipment.” The chopper sped back to the land.

“ A homing beacon?”

As the Vertol shot out of the parking lot, Jason was surprised. In the tail of the slender harpoon Darryl had just handed him was a tiny transmitter the size of a quarter. “I didn’t think these high-tech gizmos were your style, Darryl.”

“They’re not. Didn’t even know we had them; they’re Craig’s.”

Jason turned to Lisa. “If I can shoot it, we can use the homing beacon to locate it.”

Lisa nodded. She was already holding the transmitter.

As they crossed the shoreline, Darryl glanced at the distant dark mountains looming over the sea. Moments later, he hovered to a stop at the exact location where the Sikorsky had gone down, then turned back. “Sure you don’t want me to do this, Jason?”

Jason zipped up his wet suit. “Then who flies the helicopter?” He grabbed his harpoons and oxygen tank and clomped toward the door. When he put his hand on it, Lisa’s was already there.