part0006

The scuba guide kicked his left foot to face the woman swimming behind him. At first, Alberto could only see the slender form of his client, Ms. Cynthia Reynard, churning her flippered feet as she turned her head backwards.

The guide’s voice immediately cut short when a long, sleek figure emerged from the murky darkness of the water. The creature appeared to be easily seven feet in length, a jagged fin resting upon its back. As it rose closer to the surface, the sunlight reflected off a smiling mouth of uneven, needle-like teeth.

Alberto swam back to close the distance between himself and his shaken client. “What you’re looking at is what they call a Great Barracuda, the largest of the species. It’s not uncommon for them to grow over six feet in length. They are predators, but they only use those sharp teeth on smaller prey, like guppies and flounders.”

Alberto reached Cynthia’s side and stared at the carnivorous fish that followed them. He didn’t bother telling Ms. Reynard that it was the biggest barracuda he’d ever seen, in either the ocean or in an aquarium. And that was saying something, considering out of all his knowledge of aquatic life, the barracuda was his area of expertise.

Alberto chuckled, “It’s just curious. Barracudas are scavengers and often mistake humans as larger predators. He’s just waiting for you to take down your prey so he can nibble at the leftovers.”

And while what Alberto said was entirely true, he began to have doubts even as the words fell from his lips. The closer the barracuda approached, the more ambiguous its appearance became. Alberto had encountered several barracuda in his diving career, and none had been as unique as the specimen that trailed them now. Even with the bright rays of the high noon sun beaming down into the tropical water, the barracuda showed a surprising variation in color. Instead of the bluish, silver scales prevalent in the fish’s species, this barracuda was stained a deep crimson hue.

A red barracuda? Perhaps Alberto had been mistaken all along, and this really was a young shark of some kind. But after the fish made another quick dart and closed its distance by five more feet, its distinct body shape eliminated any doubt in Alberto’s mind.

“Why on earth would it mistake me for a predator?” Cynthia asked, trying to make light of a situation that obviously still frightened her. “It must know my ex-husband.”

The attractive woman laughed at her own joke and Alberto joined in, all the while keeping a close eye on the lurking fish. Cynthia had previously told him all about her wealthy ex-spouse, a Wall Street investor who’d lost half his assets to her after a lengthy divorce. She was just the sort of clientele Alberto preferred: rich divorcees vacationing by themselves in hopes of getting over their old spouses by finding a handsome local to show them a good time. And with Alberto’s suave Italian heritage, catching these gold-digging beauties was easier than fishing for anything found in the ocean. A private scuba diving tour, which meant two hours of observing his immaculately sculpted body, was always the perfect bait.

Alberto secretly agreed, but kept up his charade. “He’s just trying to get a better look at you, that’s all. Barracudas rely on their short bursts of speed to catch their prey. In short distances, they can move up to twenty-seven miles per hour. Pretty remarkable, isn’t it?”

His client seemed unimpressed, ignoring the question and asking, “How fast are we moving?”

Alberto paused before giving his response, taking a moment to consider whether he should reply truthfully or not. The real answer: nowhere near as fast as this barracuda was capable of moving. There was no way he and Ms. Reynard would be able to out swim this pursuing fish—but why on earth would that be necessary? Alberto silently scolded himself for being so paranoid, especially at his level of experience. Barracuda attacks on humans were entirely anecdotal, the result of rumors spread by novice divers and swimmers who misidentified smaller sharks.

The guide’s statement was proved wrong the moment the last word left his lips. A dark red blur shoved its way in between their floating bodies, rocking Alberto away in a backwards somersault. Even as he frantically kicked his legs to right himself, he registered Cynthia’s cry as one not only of fright—but of pain.

“Cynthia!” Alberto hollered, craning his neck in all directions to locate the suddenly aggressive creature. He spotted it lurking once again behind them, having instantly retreated after its single strike attack.

Keeping an eye on the barracuda, Alberto swam to Cynthia’s side and immediately noticed the hand that pressed firmly against the thigh of her left leg. Thin, dark tendrils of blood snaked their way between the woman’s fingers, the cerulean water turning the liquid from deep red to near black.

Alberto swung an arm around his panicked client’s shoulder and, as calmly as he could, removed her hand from the bleeding wound. It was then he saw the small, glittering object on her finger sparkling under the penetrating rays of the midday sun.

“I told you to take off all your jewelry on my boat!” Alberto shouted at the sight of the diamond ring. “This is why it bit you! It’s easy for a barracuda to mistake shiny things for prey!”

“Not at all,” Alberto answered, completely telling the truth. The barracuda had only taken a curious nibble. The nature of its charge had been merely reconnaissance, rather than a full out assault.

The fish stared at them now, remaining idle as it seemed to assess the situation. Alberto found the animal’s look of plotting logic to be fathoms beyond unnerving, but perhaps the close encounter had cleared up its confusion once and for all. It now knew that Cynthia was indeed not a fish, having nipped off the smallest of samples from her leg. But instead of losing interest in the huddling couple and wandering off in search of another food source, it remained lurking behind them—its strategy hidden behind soulless, black eyes.

“Give the ring to me.” Alberto held out his right hand while keeping his eyes trained on the predator. Looking away from the glinting teeth that’d punctured her flesh, Cynthia removed the expensive ring from her finger and placed it in Alberto’s palm. He transferred it to a zippered pouch on his belt.

Before Cynthia could answer the loaded question, a streaking missile rushed across Alberto’s peripheral vision with the speed of scarlet lightning. Alberto could only squeeze his eyes shut in the single second it took for the barracuda to commence its vicious attack.

Alberto opened his eyes, expecting to discover a bloody stump where his client’s head should be. Instead, he found the woman seemingly unharmed, minus the small cut from before.

“Then what—” Alberto’s question trailed off when he tilted his eyes downward to see the gargantuan, red barracuda using its intimidating larger size to chase away several others of its fellow species. The expert guide could easily identify the smaller barracuda as the everyday, yellow-tail variety, or Sphyraena flavicauda. The big daddy darted at the smaller fish, gnashing its teeth and scattering the school in all directions. It was the behavior of any alpha male demonstrating its dominance—

“Come on!” Alberto grabbed Cynthia’s hand and yanked her away from the violent scene. They only had to make it two hundred feet to the cay. Maybe the yellow tail barracuda would buy the time they needed before the alpha male realized its lunch had gotten away.

Cynthia, of course, had become aware of Alberto’s urgent tone and had resorted to pure hysterics and blubbering. Alberto ignored her frantic cries, kicking as hard as he could and ordering the bawling woman to do the same. He could feel the barracuda’s presence behind them, a relentless murdering force of nature centimeters from their heels. Any moment now and the barracuda would rip his client from his hand

A cloud of swirling sand erupted from below as his knee collided with something hard. At first, Alberto believed the object to be the barracuda, the sand to be the churning debris of Cynthia’s insides. But after reaching a hand down and feeling the soft embrace of solid ground, he understood the fortunate truth.

Alberto tore off his diving helmet, ripping the earpiece out in the process. It landed in a patch of muddy sand. He completely disregarded the gadget in order to hoist his exhausted client from the lapping tide and onto the beach. Cynthia lay at his feet, removing her own helmet as she struggled to catch her breath. After a minute of heavy gasping, Alberto extended a hand and assisted the woman to her feet.

“Exciting?” Cynthia stepped backward, her eyes bulging. “I can’t believe we got away! We almost got ripped to shreds by that whole school of barracuda!”

Alberto laughed. “You almost got ripped to shreds. I wasn’t the one who brought along a shiny object to attract every carnivorous fish in the ocean.” He paused, taking a moment to reach down and retrieve the large serrated diving knife strapped to his leg. “Well, except for this.”

Cynthia nervously stared at the razor-sharp blade twirling in his hands. But what made her even more uneasy was the ominous aggression that had suddenly washed over her scuba guide’s eyes.

“I guess you’ve got me there,” Cynthia anxiously muttered, chuckling in an effort to conceal her growing fear. “You were probably right all along. It must have started following me because it thought I was a predator.”

Twenty minutes later, Alberto threw the body of Cynthia Reynard from a perfectly situated high cliff into the crashing waves below. Here, the water was deep enough to allow the gargantuan barracuda access to the floating carcass and to begin its well awaited binge. It only took three minutes for the fish to show up and prove Alberto’s theories correct. The barracuda must have discovered Alberto’s discarded victims and had acquired a new taste.

Alberto wiped his blood-stained knife with some damp palm fronds and used the blade to puncture a fallen coconut. As he sat in the shade of the tree, drinking sweet coconut milk and watching the barracuda enjoy its meal, he couldn’t help but admire the animal’s cleverness. Ms. Reynard had been the fifth woman vacationing by herself whom Alberto had seduced and taken to this secluded cay. And just like the rest, he’d forced her at knife point to hand over her hotel room key and the combination to the room’s safe, as well as her ATM pin. Despite her cooperation, Alberto had then slashed her throat as he had the others, but not before offering one last bit of knowledge that a school of barracuda was actually called a battery.

“We make a good team,” Alberto said to himself, mentally addressing the feeding fish. “I get the goods, you take care of the evidence.” He took another swig from the coconut and added, “Even if you were a little impatient this time. Would’ve been a waste of an entire day if you’d snatched her before I got the info I needed.”

With the last of the coconut milk drained, Alberto stood and brushed himself off. The setting sun was now halfway to the horizon, bringing to the sky a brilliant, reddish tinge. According to old sailor lore, the current conditions promised pleasurable weather tomorrow.

Alberto smiled. The perfect weather for diving. But which lucky lady will it be?

Reattaching his helmet, the pro diver prepared to depart before the overwhelming darkness arrived to make its daily claim on the night. After all his buckles and straps had been securely fastened, Alberto marched into the foaming water. He looked forward to going through the valuables Ms. Reynard had left on his boat.

Reaching the edge of the shallow water, Alberto felt the ocean’s bottom drop out of reach from his feet when his left knee ignited in fiery pain. Alberto jerked his head around to see the red barracuda shooting away, a thin trail of blood in its wake. Frozen in utter surprise, Alberto watched the fish make a short, arching left and begin its return. Before he could even start to anticipate the predator’s next move, the barracuda shot forward again, slicing Alberto’s shoulder this time with its teeth.

“Gaah!” Alberto cried out, frantically kicking his right leg to propel himself away, backwards to the shallow water where the barracuda could not pursue. Fortunately, it only took the scuba diver mere seconds to regain his footing and return to safety. But he could still feel the heat of blood saturating his wetsuit, even warmer than the temperate ocean water. If he wanted to assess his injuries, Alberto had no choice but to walk back onto the shore.

He arrived at the hot, white sand of the cay’s beach and once again ripped off his diving helmet. He turned to the ocean, trying to catch a glimpse of the barracuda’s dorsal fin. How could it still be hungry? It had just devoured an entire human being. Even a fish that size couldn’t stomach so much food at once.

The answer flashed before his mind’s eye like an instantly loading web page: Large barracudas, when gorged, may attempt to herd a school of prey fishes in shallow water, where they guard over them until they are ready for another meal.

“You don’t have to do this!” Alberto screamed at the ocean as if the barracuda could both hear and understand him. “I can bring you more food! Haven’t you learned that? You eat me and there’s no more! I—”

Alberto cut himself short when he realized the immense absurdity of his blabbering outburst. Deadly, instinctual hunters they may be, but barracudas were not rational thinkers. They were simply fish. And for all of Alberto’s expertise, nothing would ever change that.