Octopocalypse (2 page)

There was far too much trash on
the beach.

Why couldn’t people clean up after
themselves?

It was, after all, a public
resource, not to mention a thing of beauty.

Who wanted to swim in garbage or
frolic on rubbish-strewn sand?

What was so hard about being
responsible?

He used his trash grabber to pick
up yet another piece of litter from the sand. Someone’s gigantic red
Big
Slurp
Styrofoam cup.

How long had it taken this person
to drink that monstrosity?

A week?

Did it come with its own wheeled
carrying case?

As long as it would take to milk
the thing dry, you’d think whoever lugged it around would be able to remember
to throw it away. Its colors certainly made it hard to miss.

Or forget.

At least he had the beach largely
to himself.

About a quarter of a mile away, Jim
was wandering the shoreline with his magnetic detector, doing his morning treasure-hunting
ritual.

June and Sarah were out with the
other retirees for their combination power walk and seashell-finding
expedition.

All in all, it was a good day to
be out and active.

Whoa!

What was that?

He’d never seen a rock like this
on the shore.

This thing was massive!

Had someone dumped it here?

It certainly hadn’t washed up!

Interesting…

He walked a little closer, curious
as to what it was and why it was here.

There were no tire tracks or drag
marks… either from the shore or inland.

Odd indeed.

At least this wasn’t another mess
to clean up.

Maybe it was part of some beach
beautification project.

Two mammoth tentacles whipped out and
broke his neck before he could manage a scream.

As its prey disappeared within its
folds, the octopus’s chromatophores flickered briefly in myriad soothing colors
before returning to its original, mottled, rocklike coloration.

There’s nothing like going out for
a run as the sun sets over the Pacific.

A refreshing breeze coming inland
off the shore. Babes to scope, to ease the discomfort of the jog. Sand giving
way underfoot as the lungs take in the heady air. Beautiful mountain and inland
views. The pleasure of the body put to good use.

Life is good.

He could see another runner up
ahead.

A real looker.

The view just got even better.

He smiled and picked up his pace.

If she was a regular, maybe he
would say more than hi.

Why else did he do this anyway?

Yeah… he’d said hello in passing
to her a few times in the past.

He knew exactly what he was going
to say. This would be good!

He smiled as she neared and raised
his hand to wave.

She smiled in reply.

Yes!

Signs were good!

“Holy shit!”

Her gaze clouded briefly in hurt
confusion before the giant squid’s two long tentacles, covered in serrated suckers,
lashed out and wrapped around her, whipping her into the shallows, her screams
a muted gurgle as she splashed and thrashed into the water.

He turned and starting jogging
quickly inland.

He would ask someone else for
their number.

The break was unbelievable.

The waves were clean and
well-formed with no chop, beautifully glassy in the early morning light. The
air was calm, with no onshore breeze to knock down the waves’ faces. The swells
rode easy and uninterrupted all along the shore.

He was stoked.

Why there was no one else here, he
had no idea.

Usually he had to fight the crowds
to get the waves he wanted… and that was just on the beach before he reached
the shore.

Today the state park was
abandoned.

He felt like he was entering an
untouched wilderness.

Had he woken from his campsite in
the bush after an evacuation?

He hadn’t felt any tremors or
smelled any smoke.

Today wasn’t a holiday.

Though he seldom worked, he kept
track of the calendar enough to avoid the beach on holidays.

This was a dream.

Shrugging at his good fortune, he
clamored down the hill from his semi-permanent camping site hidden within the
recesses of the rolling golden hills that protected the shore.

Gulls clustered and squawked eagerly
in the near shore break, a noisy counterpoint to the scuttling crabs.

The sand already warm beneath his
feet, he jogged eagerly onto the wide, gently sloping beach toward the distant break,
intent on the swell’s dance beyond the near shore.

Smiling, his eyes flitted along the
shoreline, taking in the beauty of an unblemished morning.

The smile quickly fell from his
face.

Farther down the strand, he could
see parts of broken boards washed ashore, more boards and their parts than he
wished to count.

What had happened here?

Running forward in case anyone was
hurt and needed help, now knowing what to look for, he spotted more colorful
board fragments washed up all along the shoreline, flotsam of dreams lost.

Gulls clamored and flew away at
his approach.

When he arrived at the water’s
edge, fragments of boards weren’t the only things he found in the surf.

His eyes widening in shock,
resisting the urge to vomit, he took one last look at the wasteland.

Boards were torn to pieces.
Scavengers feasted on the remains of what might have been his friends. A world
of horror filled his eyes.

He turned and sprinted away from
his idyllic delusions.

For once, he would be glad to
speak to the authorities.

The unbelievable wavering cellphone
footage of the immense flying octopus filled the screen as the reporter gave
her stunned warning to stay away from the water.

He turned off the TV.

As much as he hated to lose
control of a situation, this had to be done. Word had to get out. People had to
know to stay away from the shore.

He’d already lost at least nine,
and he didn’t want to lose more.

He already dreaded the phone’s
ring, knowing there had to be more… that there were going to be more.

They had to get help, and fast.

He needed to understand what was
going on.

His team needed assistance getting
the situation back under control.

His force was too small to do it
alone.

He’d already called in the Guard.

After they’d finished snickering
at him, making him repeat his story several times, probably so they could
record it for posterity, they’d promised to send some troops to help secure the
shore.

At least that took some pressure
off.

Now he just needed people to steer
clear of the beach until they had this figured out.

Like that was going to happen.

One thing he could count on:
people were stupid. Give them the chance and they’d show you every time.

He decided to call Megan at the
aquarium up in Monterey. Her fisheries research, toxicology background, and
general ecological knowledge might be able to help shed some light on what was
happening and why.

Besides, she was overdue for a
visit.

She hadn’t been home in far too
long.

He’d give her a call.

Picking up the phone, he dialed
her number with only a small amount of trepidation. While listening to the
phone ring, he cleared his throat, anxiously waiting for her to pick up.
Finally, on about the fifth ring, just as he was deciding what to say on her
answering machine, she answered. Her soft voice brought back so many bittersweet
memories of childhood: her growing up, the loss of her mother, his joining the
force and moving up with each promotion, her leaving Oceanview to pursue her
dreams, him left alone…

“Hello?”

“Hi, honey.”

“Daddy, is that you?”

“Of course it’s me!” He smiled
even though she wasn’t there to see it.

“You just sound different… tired.
Sad.”

“I am. I’m worn out and need help,
and I’m sure the real work has yet to begin.”

“What’s wrong? Tell me.”

So he did.

She promised to come down as soon
as she packed her things and gathered the necessary testing equipment and
supplies.

For that at least he was thankful.

The realization that he was
bringing his daughter into a place where she would face so much risk quickly
wiped away any feelings of satisfaction or excitement at seeing her.

So much for a happy reunion.

“You mean to tell me they’re
protesting our restriction of access to the beach?”

Major Ganlin’s response was clear
and firm on the other end of the line. “We have detained several groups of
protestors intent on breaking through our patrols and have similarly held many
more who have circumvented our cordons.”

He shook his head, muttering under
his breath. “Not even the sight of guns and tanks will deter them.”

“Sheriff, no one wants to lose
access to the beach.”

“Heaven forbid they lose their
lives instead. The break will be there another day… their health won’t be.”

“I’ll be sending another convoy
your way to hold those we have detained until they’ve been processed.”

“Thank you, Major Ganlin. And I’ll
be sending another rounds of officers to help your efforts. Is there anything
else I can do for you?”

Major Ganlin barked a short laugh.
“Send fewer sightseers and more men.”

“I wish I could help more than I
am, Major. I’ve already stretched my staff as thin as I can—extending hours,
reducing off time, and calling in reserves. Another few days and I fear my men
will start to to revolt. And the neighboring towns just can’t afford to send
men, for similar reasons.”

“Understood. I’ve requested more
men to augment our efforts.”

“Thanks, Major.” His voice was
tired, he was tired, and no rest was in sight. “I’ll see you at tomorrow
morning’s planning session. We need to decide how to handle this long-term
before we all start falling apart.”

“Until then.”

“Thank you for all you do, Major.”

The line clicked.

Megan would be at the meeting. It
would be nice to see her even under those circumstances. Her view would be
refreshing, not bogged down by logistics, pressing problems, fears, and the
minutiae of command. They needed some solid ideas on how to move forward and an
understanding of what was really going on.

Otherwise, they would start
floundering, could risk drowning.

And no one wanted that.

Except perhaps the sea monsters.

To say the beachfront was a circus
would be a Nobel-winning study in understatement.

Media outlets from San Diego to
Seattle crowded the streets, competing for space, while residents tried to at
least go through the motions of a normal day. National news and radio stations
jammed sidewalks and fought for ground between rows of National Guard vehicles
and troops. Reading and deciphering all the stations’ call signs was like
trying to grasp a foreign language without a frame of reference.

More numerous and vocal than the
media were the protesters marching along the boardwalk, parading before the
storefronts, and gathering before the entrance to the pier. Signs ranged from
the grounded and topical—“Our Beach, Our Lives,” “One World, One Ocean,” “Our
World, Our Voice” and “Give Us Our Beach Back”—to the more inflammatory and
off-the-wall—“Man does not belong,” “The End is Nigh!” “An End to Tyranny!” and
“Strike Down the Oppressors!”

Scattered among the Guard, the citizens,
and the protestors, the sheriff’s troops remained calm and composed within the
surging waves of activity.

Seeing their calming presence, he
was proud of his men and women, who put such a brave, positive face on the city
in a time of tragedy.

The National Guard command
station, his destination, was at the center of the fray by the pier’s entrance.
Pulling into the spot reserved for him, he took a deep preparatory breath, then
stepped out of the patrol car and entered the melee.

“Officer Hayes!”

“Sheriff Hayes!”

“Mister Hayes!”

“Will!”

“Willard!”

“Sir!”

“Hey!”

“You!”

“Just a moment!”

“A word!”

“A question!”

“We want to know!”

“A single answer!”

“What’s the plan?”

“What’s happening?”

“What do you know?”

“What’s the status?”

“What are you doing to keep
everyone safe?”

“Why now?”

“What does this mean?”

He was assaulted by hundreds of
questions, swarmed by microphones, encircled by pushing throngs of querying
reporters, jostled by protestors, all the while pushing forward to the command
center.

The command center itself was a
large matte canvas tent flanked by National Guard and local police officers. It
was also free of turmoil.

He longed to reach it like a
drowning man grasping desperately for purchase.

His deep voice measured and
steady, filled with a surety he did not feel, he replied simply and generally
to all those who buzzed incessantly around: “I will answer your questions as
best I can after our meeting.”

“Please be patient.”

“Thank you.”

“But…”

“We need to know…”

“What about…”

“Why…”

“When…”

“Who…”

He tuned their unending questions
out completely and moved back into the calm of his own world.

They would get their answers in
due time.

At least the ones he was willing
to give.

“Daddy!”

The first voice he heard upon
pushing through the tent’s flap was the most welcome.

His daughter had grown into quite
the woman. An accomplished scientist and researcher, she was also an outspoken
advocate for marine preservation, with several widely cited papers on the use
of sustainable fisheries and the restoration of degraded aquatic ecosystems.

His long arms enveloped her in the
warmest way he knew how, completely and with a bright smile.

Leaning to whisper in Meg’s ear,
he said, “Glad to see you, hon.”

Above and past his daughter’s
head, he saw Major Ganlin offer a brief nod in acknowledgement of his arrival.
Where Megan was tall and lithe, as playful as the waves on the shore, Major
Ganlin was short and solid, as unyielding as the seawall backing much of the
beachfront along Oceanview’s seaboard. The major’s hair was cropped short, with
striking silver bands visible even in the stubble.

They walked toward where Major
Ganlin, her assistants, and Deputies Smith and Carver stood around a central
table that held a map of the coastline around Oceanview. He leaned once more
toward his daughter’s ear and muttered, “Let’s get this started. I want your
job done and you out of here as soon as possible.”

“I can take care of myself, Dad.”

“I know that, Megs, but so long as
I can, I’ll try to take care of you, too.”

“Sheriff Hayes. Doctor Hayes.”
Major Ganlin’s firm voice offered little room for casual familiarity. “If
you’re ready, we’ll begin.”

With a slight nod, the sheriff replied,
“I want to thank you and your troops for coming to our call. We need all the
support we can get under the circumstances. You’ve been a godsend.”

Major Ganlin pursed her lips.
“We’re here to do whatever we can. I only hope it’s enough.”

Diving in, knowing the answer but
asking anyway, he said, “Have you heard back from the governor’s office?”

“The governor is reluctant to
commit more troops given the uncertainty of the situation. As you are aware,
she has already positioned more Guard along the coast in anticipation of
further emergencies. Until the need is here greater, the situation will
probably not change.”

Although he seethed inside knowing
that he had mile upon mile of oceanfront to protect with far too few resources
to do it, he asked, “What’s the status of your team? Are they are tired as
ours?”

“We’re making do. The citizens of
Oceanview have been most welcome hosts.”

She obviously wasn’t talking about
the protestors then.

Although to be fair, most of those
weren’t local. And of the ones that were local, he wouldn’t expect them to be
doing anything but protest. In fact, for them, protesting was a positive.

He shared what little good news he
had. “The CHP has sent officers in to bolster our forces along the roadways.
With the Highway Patrol’s help covering the regions outside town, we should be
able to create a much tighter cordon barring access to the beaches along the
coast.”

This at least got a brief smile
from the major.

Turning to Megan so that she could
explain her role and be about her business—and then be safely out of town as
soon as possible—he asked, “What do you hope to be able to do for us, Megan? We
could really use some help understanding why this is happening and what, if
anything, we can do to prevent further casualties.”

Megan sensed her father’s concern
for her and his eagerness for her to get started. “I will be taking water and
wildlife samples for toxicological analysis, along a transect over the entirety
of the shoreline in this jurisdiction.”

Major Ganlin raised her eyebrows.
“Is that wise?”

Megan didn’t yield. “It’s
necessary.”

Accepting Megan’s response without
reaction, Major Ganlin replied, “Would you care to offer any conjecture on the
cause of this… anomaly?”

“A fishery collapse may explain
the marine life exploring new regions and resources in search of food. As for
the unprecedented mutations… I’ll be testing for a range of mutagens, but there’s
no precedent for anything like this in the literature.”

“And out of the literature?”

Without missing a beat, Megan
replied, “You only have to look out your window.”

Pursing her lips briefly, Major
Ganlin answered, “I’ll send an escort with you. Report to Sargent Bayne and
tell him you need a small team to go with you. I’ll leave the choices to his
discretion.”

“Thank you. I’ll be back in touch as
soon as I can give you something worthwhile.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” the sheriff
said. “Please be careful.”

“That goes without saying.” Megan
left with a smile.

If only he felt that secure
inside.

Indicating Deputies Carver and
Smith with a nod, he said, “Would you please go with her as well? I hate for
anyone to go near the water.”

After his officers’ departure,
Major Ganlin’s eyes returned to his. “Any more issues since last we spoke?”

“A local surfer happened upon the
remains of several other surfers at Old Dunes State Beach. Lucky for him he
didn’t join them.”

“Anything else?”

“There are reports of a missing
jogger, but no body has turned up yet. Her next of kin are clamoring for
answers. There’s a missing beachcomber whose favorite pastime was picking up
litter along the coast. Witnesses claim they saw a large rock crawl back into
the surf near where he usually worked. They’re calling it a ‘rocktopus.’ His
gear was found mangled right where the octopus was reportedly perched in the
sand.

“We’re also investigating recent
reports of a pair of missing jetskiers from out of town and a couple whose tent
was found abandoned on the beach.”

Before the major could ask another
question, he queried, “Anything on your end?”

Her eyes flicking through the tent
flap, she stated flatly, “The pier has become a hotspot of unrest with the
protestors. They keep trying to push through our barricades to get access to
the pier. Their efforts are largely a symbolic gesture, but nonetheless, it
keeps far too many of my men tied down here when they could be patrolling higher-risk
areas and allaying citizen concerns.”

He answered positively. “Hopefully
the Highway Patrol will be able to relieve some of that burden.”

She gestured along the coast at
the map. “We’ve already shut down major coastal access points along the PCH.
However, our efforts are porous at best, because the area between Oceanview and
its nearest neighbors to the north and south is far too broad to effectively
seal. And given its economic significance, particularly with tourists, the governor
has asked that we not close the Pacific Coast Highway. I will continue to argue
that its closure will not only make our jobs easier but the situation far safer
for all parties concerned.”

The sheriff nodded. “I’ll lend my
support. Tourists can use the inland highways. The last thing we need is unsuspecting
innocents showing up without a clue as to what’s happening.”

With a motion of her head toward
the tent’s exterior, indicating all the news crews, Major Ganlin replied, “I
don’t know how long that will be the case. But the danger remains real whether
people know about it or not.”

“Anything else?”

“Nothing for now. I plan on
patrolling with my men as soon as we finish the press conference here. They
could use as much help as they can get. I’ll let you know as soon as the governor’s
position changes.”

He liked her confidence.

They would need it.

“Ready to go talk to some
reporters?” he asked.

She snorted, her hard exterior
breaking for just a brief moment. “Why don’t I let you do the talking? I’ll
stand in the background and look authoritative.”

He laughed. “Done!”

Holding back the tent flap, he let
Major Ganlin and her assistants precede him out into the noise and confusion of
the awaiting mob.

His hands gripped the podium so
tightly that his knuckles were white. His palms were sweating.

He hated speaking before groups.

Especially when they were actually
listening to him.

Yelling for order or to give
directions was an entirely different matter.

As he cleared his throat, the multicolored
array of microphones attached to the stand responded with a healthy whine of
feedback.

“Thank you all for coming.”

He wasn’t thankful.

Far from it.

Although their jobs were
important, the media merely complicated his job. They were very good at getting
in the way.

“This is a difficult time for
everyone.”

It would be a bit less difficult
if all these people would go home…

He needed to focus and take
control. Leverage what he could to turn the situation around as much as
possible.

And quit grumbling.

“We have faced one tragedy after
another. One impossibly improbable situation after another.

“We now border an alien world. One
we don’t really understand and cannot yet risk exploring.

“Please respect this danger.

“It is real.

“We have already lost more than
enough.”

Indicating Major Ganlin with a
wave of his arm, he said, “With Major Ganlin’s help and her able troops, we are
attempting to secure the beachfront. The CHP will be assisting in this effort. Your
help in avoiding the coast, as difficult and inconvenient as this may be, is
much appreciated.

“Major beach access points are
closed.

“The beach is off-limits.

“Please let us get the situation
under control and understood before venturing out or pushing the boundaries.

“We have a team exploring why this
happened and what can be done to remedy the situation.

“We will need time to make this
work. Please give it to us so that we can give you your beach back.”

He felt like a second-rate
politician giving a tired stump speech.

“Are there any questions?”

He didn’t want to ask.

But he had to.

“Officer Hayes…”

“Sheriff Hayes…”

“Mr. Hayes!”

The mob around him clamored for information,
raising voices, shouting over one another until finally one lucky winner got to
ask their question. Acknowledging the victor, a well-groomed lady from KFMB in
San Diego, he let her ask her question.

“What can you tell us about the
attacks and the victims of the unfortunate events?”

A big question there… two in fact.
She could get quite a bit from him with such an open-ended line of inquiry… if
he let her.

He was in a giving mood.

“The first known incident claimed
the life of a fisherman on the bay and appears to have been the result of an
attack by a group of Humboldt squids. The incident was instigated by shining a
signal light into the water in order to draw their attention.