Sea of Secrets Anthology Page 3

  I was assigned to Shch-317, a Shchuka class submarine, two years ago. We’d patrolled the Baltic for the best part of that time but hadn’t really seen any action until the summer of this year. Mother Russia had started the Baltic Sea campaign to deny the German dogs by attacking the freighters supplying them with materiel for their war effort.

  There had originally been twelve Shchuka class boats. Each given a code name inspired by the Zodiac. Ours was Pisces. We were the fish amongst the fish.

  Over the last two years, however, nine of the other boats had been sunk.

  Our latest mission had been part of a patrol of the remaining three submarines. Shch-313, the Capricorn, and Shch-310, the Aquarius, and ourselves had been watching the shipping lanes off the coast of Gdansk for the last month. We had taken out three ships and were heading home for a well-deserved rest and celebration when a U-boat found us.

  Protocol deemed that we should split up and rendezvous farther North. Capricorn and Aquarius dived and managed to escape quickly. At least that’s what we think. The U-boat locked onto our wake and followed.

  The first torpedo drove us towards the coast of Estonia and forced us into an emergency dive. The second torpedo exploded near the stern. Our engines died and with them our hopes. The captain called for our emergency oil slick to be deployed with the hope that the U-boat and any surface ships would think we’d been scuttled, so they’d turn away.

  It almost worked. No more torpedoes came at us but we heard a few explosions through the hull. Depth charges. One went off just above us. We still didn’t know what damage it caused but it shook us up pretty well.

  We sank to the bottom without any further incident, but the damage was done. No engines and a decreasing supply of battery power.

  It was looking more and more likely that our code name would be forever linked with our fate. We were going to die at the bottom of the sea amongst the fish.

  The boat creaked and groaned in the silence. A bead of sweat rolled down the captain’s temple as he stood, thinking about the next course of action. He turned, pulled up the periscope and peered into it. We all knew there was nothing. He’d tried it twice already. The periscope was broken, possibly damaged by the depth charge. After a moment, the captain’s shoulders slumped; he pulled away from the eyepiece, flicked up the handles, and pushed the periscope back down.

  A stern voice broke through from the corner of the control room. “What is your plan, Nikolay?”

  I looked across the space to Captain Second Class Yegorov, the division commander who had hitched a ride with us back to Russia. He did not look impressed.

  Captain Mokhov turned to face his commanding officer. “Sir, I suggest we remain silent for another few hours to ensure that any patrol boats in the area have left,” the captain replied.

  “And then?”

  The captain mumbled under his breath, “I don’t know.”

  “What was that?” Yegorov inquired.

  The captain turned and snapped at his commander, “I do not know. What would you have me do?”

  Yegorov tilted his head, a smarmy look on his face, “This is not my boat, Captain. It is not my purpose to tell you how to command her. Though, if I were in charge, I do not think we would be in this situation. I certainly wouldn’t have turned tail and run away from the German scum.”

  “The fleet has already lost many good men and boats to German U-boats. Our standing orders are to never engage them. I was following those orders.”

  “Sometimes the true character of a captain is not in how he follows orders but how he adapts to the circumstances. I would say your strategy has not worked.”

  Captain Mokhov dropped his head and turned away, he gently put his forehead against the stainless steel of the periscope column.

  A flash of brilliance came to my mind. I raised my hand. “Captain?”

  Mokhov remained unmoved.

  “Captain?” I repeated.

  His head slowly turned towards me. “What is it Seaman?”

  “We could try the emergency radio buoy.”

  “The what?”

  “The emergency buoy. It’s a small floating buoy that can be released and will float to the surface, taking a radio antenna with it.”

  The captain looked stunned, his voice was laced with anger but he controlled himself.

  “Why did you not mention this earlier?”

  “The buoy line is only two hundred feet. I didn’t think it would be of any use, but in this situation, I don’t think we have anything to lose.”

  “Well get to it then.”

  I stood, rushed over to the conning tower ladder, and started to climb. The captain watched me intently then moved to the bottom of the ladder and followed.

  Second Officer Petrov piped up, “Captain?”

  Mokhov looked back and said, “It’s okay, Vitali, I want to see if the short periscope upstairs is operational. It won’t show much, but it may tell us how badly we are damaged.” He turned and looked at Yegorov for a moment then said, “Vitali, you are in charge while I’m upstairs.”

  I had made it to the top of the ladder and opened the hatch. Climbing into the cramped room, I spun to help the captain. He climbed in, quickly shut the hatch, then turned to me.

  “Thank you, Dmitry, I just needed somewhere quietly think.”

  I nodded then got on with the task at hand. I opened a small hatch on the port side of the room and found the buoy release lever. It seemed intact, so there was hope it would deploy. I grabbed the lever with my right hand, ready to pull it when the captain’s voice piped up behind me.

  “I hate that man, Dmitry, I have always hated him.”

  I turned to face the captain. He stood at the short periscope with his head resting against the viewfinder and his arms slung over the handles.

  “We entered the military together. Yegorov was always favoured for promotion to officer. He beat me by five years and was captaining his own boat within another couple. I muddled my way from seaman to captain over a twenty-year period.” He sighed and looked up. His eyes were moist and small tracks ran down his cheeks into his thick beard. “I didn’t think it would end like this. My last turn as a Captain would be to fail in front of my long time enemy. The only saving grace is that Yegorov is destined to die with me.”

  “Captain, there is a chance. If I can raise the buoy, we might be able to get a signal out. Once we make contact, we can abandon ship.”

  The captain laughed a little and a smile came to his face. “I wish I was so young to have such optimism,” he said and nodded his head. “Yes, we should make every effort to save ourselves, no matter how slim the chance of success. Deploy the buoy and I will watch it from here.”

  He put his face against the viewfinder. I grabbed the lever, and locked it into position. A loud whooshing sound filled the tiny room.

  “I can see something,” he said. “Bubbles…and yes! A small buoy with a wire coming out.”

  As the buoy unwound, the sound of a wheel turning filled the cabinet. I hoped it wouldn’t catch and stop. I hoped even more that it would be long enough to send or receive a signal. I turned and switched on the small radio attached to the buoy and put the headphones on. Through the static, I heard the whirring of the wheel stop. I scanned through the available frequencies. Nothing but static.

  “Anything?” the captain said.

  I shook my head and started back through the range again. Halfway along, I stopped and listened.

  “What is it?”

  I held up my hand for silence then realised I was shushing the captain. “Sorry Sir, there’s something, but it’s very faint.”

  “I apologise, Dmitry. Continue on.”

  I strained to hear. There was singing. Faint singing. I turned the gain knob. The sound became louder and clearer. I listened intently. Yes, it was singing. Beautiful singing. The voices of angels.

  Impossible. Who would be transmitting singing during war time?

  “What do you hear, Dmitry?
”

  I looked up at the captain. Confusion reigned on my face.

  “Singing, sir. Beautiful singing.”

  “Impossible. You must be mistaken.” He held his hand out for the headphones.

  I reluctantly passed them over.

  He placed them on his head and listened. His face lit up with happiness. “My wife used to sing that song to me. She had such a melodic voice. Sang in our local choir. She should be with the heavenly choir now, but she must be near us.”

  He moved to the periscope and looked through the viewfinder. He turned around slowly then stopped and stood motionless for a moment.

  “Dmitry. I see her. She is outside. She is more beautiful than I remember.”

  “But captain, that is impossible. We are three hundred feet below the surface.”

  He ignored me and stood staring into the viewfinder.

  “She calls to me, Dmitry. She calls to me. I knew the day would come when I would finally join with her again.”

  He kept watching for a while then pulled away from the periscope as if in a trance. A loud screeching echoed through the chamber, like fingernails on a blackboard.

  “She is here. I must join her.”

  The captain dropped the headphones and moved to the outer hatch. He reached up for the wheel and rotated it to the unlock position.

  “Captain! No! You’ll kill us all!”

  The captain turned towards me. His face serene.

  “Dmitry. We are already dead.”

  Suddenly, the hatch opened outwards. Water poured into the little room. I’m still not sure but I could have sworn that a hand reached in, grabbed the captain, and dragged him out of the boat. The hatch slammed shut again, cutting off the cascade of water.

  I froze, mouth agape, watching the space where the captain had been, not understanding what had just happened. The wheel of the lower hatch spun and it dropped from sight. Water poured into the control room.

  “Goddammit! What the hell?” Petrov shouted a moment before he poked his head up the ladder, his hair and shirt soaked. He looked at me, then he looked around the little room.

  “Dmitry, what happened? Where is the captain?”

  I couldn’t answer. I could only point to the upper hatch. Petrov’s gaze followed my finger.

  I shivered under a blanket back in the control room. Yegorov was standing before me, hands on hips, fury written all over his face.

  “Tell me again, seaman, what happened?”

  I looked up at him. I was afraid. This man was my captain’s boss, with twenty years of seniority and thirteen ranks above me. I blubbered out the same story again, but it only infuriated him further.

  “That is what happened, sir, honestly.”

  Petrov piped up to support me.

  “Think about it, sir. We all saw the captain climb into the conning tower. The only exit is through the outer hatch, and it’s virtually impossible to close an open hatch at this depth against the flow of water. And you just have to look at Dmitry, he certainly isn’t strong enough to do it anyway. Hell, I don’t think he could even lift the captain out of the hatch in the first place.”

  I looked at Petrov for a second and mumbled, “Thanks, I think.”

  Yegorov looked at me for a few seconds, huffed, then turned away and bellowed up the ladder, “Lieutenant? Anything?”

  Sokolov put his head through the hatch and said, “The radio is working, sir. I can only get static though.”

  “What about the periscope?”

  “Nothing. Visibility is very limited. I can see the damage to the main periscope and the sonar, but there’s nothing out there. Absolutely nothing.”

  Yegorov turned back to me and said, “Seaman Lebedev, can you reroute the emergency radio to the main speakers?”

  I nodded and moved across to my station. With the flick of a few switches, the howling static filled the control room. Faces grimaced everywhere. I quickly adjusted the gain to make it bearable. Just to check, I moved through the entire frequency spectrum. Nothing but static came out.

  “Hmm,” said Yegorov, “seems your angels have flown away. Doesn’t it?”

  I looked at him with downcast eyes.

  “I think Petty Officer Orlov has been gone for far too long, don’t you Seaman Lebedev?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “Go and see what is keeping him and help fix that damn sonar.”

  I stood up. “Yes, Sir!” I said, and then hurried to the connecting hatch. As I unwound the locking wheel I heard Yegorov say to Sergei, “Seaman Egorov, keep scanning through the frequencies, just in case there is someone out there who can hear us.”

  Egorov replied with a quick, “Yes, Sir,” and sat in my seat.

  I opened the hatch and ducked through quickly, locking it behind me. I turned around and looked up the corridor before me. On either side were the general storage compartments and, farther ahead, were the officers’ quarters. I made my way along the corridor, thankful for the silence. Halfway along, I stopped for a moment and caught my breath.

  I’m going to die. I’m stuck at the bottom of the sea in this goddamn tin can and I’m going to die.

  I leaned against the wall and put my head in my hands. For so long I’d thought I had nothing to live for, but now that I was going to die, I realised I wanted to go on. I had to think.

  I haven’t gone through all this to become fish food, there must be a way out of here.

  I stood up and looked down the corridor, towards the forward torpedo room.

  The fore hatch is through there. I could escape, but it’s three hundred feet to the surface. I’d never make it.

  I looked back at the control room then through the officers’ quarters, to the forward torpedo room. I notice the ladder leading to the bottom deck and a plan begins to form in my mind.

  The emergency rebreathers. They’re stored in the aft storage room. I can get there through the galley below and then the crews’ mess on this level.

  I turned and headed towards the fore torpedo room, I looked down the ladder to the lower level, checking for any evidence of water. It was clear, so I searched my mind for the layout of the lower deck. Down there were the fore and aft batteries, plus the cold-storage room, freezer, and galley. I could easily navigate through, but I’d be cramped for room.

  I moved to the ladder but a noise from down the corridor stopped me.

  Was that Mikhail? I can’t leave him behind.

  I quickly made my way to the torpedo room and looked through the window. It was misted over. The only cause could be water hitting some of the unshielded heating pipes running through the room. I grabbed the locking wheel and turned it. The door opened and I stepped through, into shin-high water.

  The room was filled with steam, but I could make out a figure standing a few feet away.

  “Mikhail?” I called.

  He turned and peered at me, then a grin broke across Mikhail’s face. “Dmitry, my old friend. I found her. She’s come to visit,” he said.

  “Who?”

  “Natalia. My wife. I’ve told you all about her.”

  I was confused. “But you told me she died. Before you enlisted. She was why you enlisted.”

  “Yes, but she’s here now. She wants me to go with her.”

  He stepped to one side and revealed a young, beautiful woman with a face I recognised from a grainy photo that Mikhail had shown me. I stared at the woman and shook my head.

  “She can’t be here. We are trapped underwater, but I know how we can escape and I came to take you with me.”

  “But I don’t want to leave. Not without Natalia.”

  “She’s not your wife. I don’t know who she is but she’s not your wife. She can’t be.”

  “You are crazy, my friend, you have been in this tub for too long. This is my beautiful wife returned. Just look.”

  He turned back to face Natalia. She smiled at him for a moment and took him in her arms. Then all went to hell.

  The creature call
ed Natalia grew in height. Her delicate fingers extended into dagger like talons. Her face sloughed off its beauty. The hair disappeared. The eyes grew to dark orbs filled with malevolence. The mouth widened into a deep gouge in the face. Her teeth grew into long needles.

  “Watch out!” I cried, but it was too late.

  The Natalia creature drew back its head, opened its mouth impossibly wide, and brought its needle-filled maw down on Mikhail’s exposed throat. Blood jetted out and sprayed the nearby wall. The water at Mikhail’s feet turned crimson.

  I gaped at the episode for a moment then stepped backwards, until I found the entryway. The creature looked up at my exit, dropped Mikhail’s body, and started towards me. I stumbled out of the room and slammed the door shut just as the creature hit it from the other side. I held it shut and managed to turn the locking wheel. The creature thumped against the door for a few seconds then resumed feasting on Mikhail.

  I turned away and hurried back down the corridor. As I passed the ladder, I considered going down for a moment before carrying on. I knew I had to warn the rest of the crew about the creature. Those deadly hands must have been what I saw take the Captain and there was no telling how many more were outside the boat, or worse, already inside.

  When I reached the doorway into the control room I stopped to grab the locking wheel. It was then that I heard the singing. The same soft lilting voice I’d heard over the radio, but it was louder and coming from the other side of the door. I peered through the window.

  Every crew member in the next room was mesmerised by the sound. They stood, eyes closed, moving slowly with the rhythm of the voice. Even Yegorov was in ecstasy, his normally hardened face showing a softer inner side.

  Sokolov was back in the control room, but he moved to the ladder and quickly climbed up. Terror struck me as I realised what he was doing. I started to spin the locking wheel but self-preservation stopped me and I spun it back to make sure it was shut tight.

  Suddenly, Sokolov’s quest was fulfilled. Water poured into the control room from the open outer hatch. Petrov was knocked off his feet by the torrent but regained his footing quickly. The shock seemed to bring him out of his trance. He climbed the lower ladder and tried to close the inner hatch.