Jeremy Robinson - Kronos

Trevor groaned as the bathroom’s view clouded with steam, blocking his view of Andrea’s stellar body. He looked at Remus, whose smile had turned to a grimace. “You know, we’re really going to have to turn the water temperature down at some point. This is bloody ridiculous.”

Pursing his lips, Trevor sat up and leaned forward, never taking his eyes off the screen displaying an image of the steamy bathroom. “I think, perhaps, we misjudged Atticus’s attachment to the woman.”

“I bet he’s gay,” Remus said with a snort.

“Mmm. At any rate, it’s quite possible his rescue of her was merely an act of conscience. I swear to you, morality boggles my mind.”

Remus turned to him. “But you believe in God.”

“Indeed, I do. I just happen to disagree with Him. Besides, I’ve got O’Shea to wipe my slate clean. You know, you should really think about going to confession.”

Remus laughed. “No thanks. I’m looking forward to hell.”

“A prince among devils, is that it?” Trevor stood and stretched. “Ahh, well. Off to bed with you then. Tomorrow’s going to be quite the day. No use in spending the night trying to see through steam.” With that, he flicked a switch on the desk, and the wall of monitors went black.

Remus stood, scowling at the now-blank monitor where Andrea had only moments ago stood naked before their eyes.

“Having seen the fruit, you long to eat it that much more, eh?” Trevor asked with a smile, reading Remus’s one-track mind with ease.

Remus just nodded.

Trevor rubbed his back like a consoling father. “All in good time, dear Remus. All in good time.”

Andrea had just finished rinsing an exotic shampoo from her hair when a cool draft snapped her out of the South American jungle and back onto Trevor Manfred’s ship. She spun around and found a figure, concealed by steam, standing at the shower’s entrance.

“Who’s there?”

Andrea sighed with relief. It was Atticus.

It was Atticus!

A quiver filled her voice as she replied, unsure of whether or not she should cover her nakedness. “I…I don’t-”

“Did the Coast Guard send you? Are you here about the creature? To stop me?”

“No, Atti. I’m here for you.”

“Why did you bring the photo?”

“I promised your wife…Maria…in the photo. It’s stupid, but I promised her I’d take care of you.”

“You broke into my house?”

“You left it unlocked. Your brother-”

“You saw Conner? What…what did he say?”

“He knew you would go after it.” Andrea’s heart beat like a double bass in a heavy-metal anthem. She was shocked as the next words escaped her mouth. “He said it’s a rare woman who will drop everything and search the high seas for an old friend.”

Andrea felt a wave of heat rush through her body as a shadow moved toward her through the steam. She sighed with relief and a little bit of disappointment when she saw only Atticus’s hand, holding a towel. She took it, and stepped out of the water, wrapping herself up.

“Is that all?” he asked.

“No.” Andrea could feel her emotions rising as Atticus grew closer. “He said, ‘welcome back to the family.’”

With that, Atticus was through the steam, standing in a pair of boxers and a T-shirt. She felt oddly comfortable in his presence.

“It’s been so long,” he said.

“I know.”

“How is it possible, then?”

“It’s not just me?”

Atticus slipped his hands around her waist and let them linger on the small of her back. She pulled him closer, and they stumbled back into the water, soaking both towel and clothes. Their bodies meshed together as rivulets of water cascaded down the valley where their bodies met. He pressed his lips against hers, letting them linger, his top lip on her lower. He pulled back and looked her in the eyes.

“I have to finish what I started here.”

“I know.”

“Then you won’t try to stop me?”

“No. I’ll help.”

Andrea fell into Atticus’s embrace, lost in her emotions, swept up in the moment, and for the first time in a long time, felt loved and alive. This was worth the risk, she thought. In that moment, she realized how empty her life had become since losing her Abigail. But somehow through chance of fate-or the will of God-they’d found each other; or rather, she’d found him-dead-and brought him back. Now he was returning the favor, bringing her back to life.

The Titan-Gulf of Maine

A loud, angry thumping pulled Atticus from his sleep. He sat up quickly and found the bed empty. Andrea was gone. The banging continued, and flashes of Remus pummeling Andrea sprang into his mind. He leapt from the bed and vaulted into the living room where he found Andrea reaching for the door.

“Hold your horses,” Andrea said as she opened the suite door.

Atticus slid to a stop behind Andrea as the door opened to reveal O’Shea, dressed in his black priest’s clothing. His eyes opened wide as he took in Andrea’s form, standing in one of Atticus’s Navy T-shirts. It fit her loosely, but it was clear she wore nothing but panties underneath.

“Holy…” O’Shea whispered before Andrea’s voice diced his unpriestly fantasies to ribbons.

“And what kind of priest are you supposed to be?” Andrea grumbled, before moving to close the door on O’Shea.

“Hold on,” Atticus said as he approached, wearing only his boxers. “He’s not exactly a normal priest, and you’re not exactly dressed like a nun. Besides, he saved your life.”

Andrea shot Atticus a confused look.

“He tipped me off that you had been captured,” Atticus said.

Andrea offered O’Shea a half smile. “Then I owe you my thanks.”

“Think nothing of it,” O’Shea said, “Just do me a favor and put on some clothes. I may be a priest, but I’ve yet to be castrated.”

Andrea smiled and left for the bedroom.

As soon as she was gone, O’Shea punched Atticus lightly on the shoulder. “You devil. A regular action hero, saving the day and getting the girl.”

“Nothing happened,” Atticus said.

“Sure,” O’Shea said with a lopsided grin that told Atticus he’d never believe anything other than the two had been up all night having sinful sex.

Only then did Atticus notice that O’Shea was slightly out of breath and sweating. “Did you come by for a reason?”

“Oh! Right.” O’Shea said. “It seems we’ve located Kronos again. Same pattern as yesterday, following the fish. Trevor thinks it’s a feeding pattern and that it will rise again today around the same time as yesterday.”

Atticus squinted in thought. “It’s possible. Daily routine isn’t uncommon in many animals, but ocean predators are typically opportunistic feeders because it’s not always certain when the next meal will be found. Then again, I doubt this thing has any trouble finding something to eat, so a routine of feeding might make sense.”

When Atticus finished speaking, O’Shea’s face turned curious-squinted eyes, pursed lips.

“What?” Atticus said.

“I was expecting a mad dash to the bridge, followed by a quick dive in Ray to face and kill the beast, not hypotheses from an oceanographer. Beauty, it seems, truly can kill the beast.”

Andrea was suddenly at Atticus’s side, fully dressed in her shorts and blue T-shirt. Her feet were bare, as she’d worn no shoes, only her flippers. “If you’re going to do this, get dressed, and let’s get it over with.” She shoved Atticus’s clothes into his arms and moved past O’Shea into the hallway.

O’Shea smiled. “Or not.”

“Which way to the bridge?” Andrea asked.

“I’m not sure Trevor-”

Andrea blew past him.