Deep Ark 6 - Chapter 9

                                              Chapter 9

                                          pg 108                                                    

Finally, the Sea Slug arrives at Octo Serp's appointed spot.

I have spent the last twelve hours pretending to sleep in the cramped forward cabin. The truth is, I have never been more wide awake in my life.

I haven't had the chance to tell Hammerhead of my chilling discovery. He has been guarded at all times by Octo. Sitting alone in that cabin, the black waters swirling past the solitary porthole, my mind is a theme-park ride: spinning, turning, screaming out for answers.

What is Octo up to? Why hide snakes on board the Sea Slug? Where does he plan to take them at the bottom of the ocean? And what does he hope to find there, a thousand

                                                     pg 109

kilometres from anywhere?

Suddenly, I feel the old sub shudder and slow. The rackety engines grow silent.

We have arrived.

I scramble up the ladder to the cockpit. Hammerhead is peering out of his porthole, but the Sea Slug's bright forward lights illuminate nothing but endless ocean. A school of fish swims through the beams.

Octo Serp glares at me. "Rise and shine, kid! We've arrived!"

"Arrived where? The middle of nowhere?" I mutter.

"No, the centre of everywhere!" he sneers.

Hammerhead glares at him. "Vat do ve do now? Ve can't just bob around the bottom like a sick vale:'

Octo's eyes glow. A terrible smile splits his face. "Oh, I don't intend to stay on the bottom," he says, thrusting a pointing finger above his head. "We're going to the Surface!"

                                                            pg 110

"The Surface?" Hammerhead and I both explode together.

But Octo is waving the flare gun in our faces. "Take this heap of rubbish to the Surface. Now!"

Reluctantly, Hammerhead fires up the engines.  I can see anger smouldering in his eyes - anger and fear.

"The only thing you'll find up on the Surface is death!" he snarls. "Storms, poisonous air and a 

sea as violent as hell itself! Ve von't last five minutes up there!"

Octo doesn't reply, but the flare gun does. The sound of the explosion fills the cramped 

cockpit and when the smoke clears there is a ragged hole in the skipper's chair. Now he has 

our full attention.

"To the Surface!" he shouts. "No more debate!"

The Sea Slug begins to rise through the water. I grip the hull as she angles upwards. Through the porthole, I can see the water changing colour

                                                 pg 111

from jet black to murky grey. Fish appear in schools and a cloud of blue jellyfish shimmies by. A shark swims alongside the rusty sub for a while, then darts off.

Up ... up ... up.

After thirty minutes of slow but steady ascent, Hammerhead suddenly shouts, "Brace yourselves! Ve're surfacing!" I feel the Sea Slug burst through the waves, then thump back down with a bone-jangling crash. We roll around the cabin as the old sub rocks in the choppy water of the Surface.

The Surface!

How many times have I dreamed of visiting it, but never in my wildest nightmares had I thought I would arrive like this.

Octo is scrambling up the ladder to the conning-tower hatch. He swings it open with a rusty creak and a cascade of freezing sea water pours down on us.

Something else pours down as well —something I will never, ever forget. Light! Bright, white, pure, glorious sunlight!

It blinds me for a moment. I'm so used to

                                                       

                                                                    pg 112

electric bulbs, neon lights, false daylight.

This is incredible. It has a warmth about it, a golden glow.

I forget about Octo and the flare gun. I push up past him amd take my first look at the Surface.

I've heard people say that a prisoner who has been locked away for years can hardly comprehend the idea of freedom.

I was that prisoner, locked away below the sea for my entire life. Now, as I gaze upon the sights and sounds of the Surface, I know I'm free.

Hammerhead joins me. "I don't believe my eyes!" he gasps.

The sun, the glorious sun, is glowing from a sky of eggshell blue. Around us, the sea sparkles green, lightly dimpled by white-crested waves. A gentle breeze ruffles our hair. The air is sweet, salt-tinged and clean. Everything beams back at us.Octo is beaming, too, though his eyes still

                                                      pg 113

have a mad gleam. He points to something I haven't seen on the horizon.

"Take the sub there!" he commands.

I look. There is something rising up out of the sea. It is small at first but, as the skipper brings the Sea Slug along the surface towards it, it grows ever larger.

I have never seen anything like it before. It has the shape of a cone, carpeted in green. Fluffy clouds gather above it.

"What is that?" I ask out loud.

Octo laughs cruelly. "You've lived all your life like a crab on the bottom of the stinking ocean. Well, feast your eyes, kid. That is called land!"

"Land?" I say, fascinated by the sight of it. "But there is no more land. Dad said it had all been flooded ..."

"Well, he was wrong. They all were," sneers Octo. "This land exists!"

"How did you know it vas here?" asks Hammerhead, his bug eyes still blinking in the bright sunlight.

"I suspected it more than knew it," replies Octo. "Then, over many years of patient

                                             pg 114

research I grew certain. The tectonic plates move constantly, throwing up new land with each violent eruption. I knew such an island as this existed ... The only thing I needed to do was actually find.  But the fool Buller refused to believe me. He refused me permission to go looking for it. Ha! Today, I have proved him wrong. Let him and all the others who doubted Octo Serp rot at the bottom of the sea!"

In spite of the warm sunlight, I am shivering.

We arrive at the island as the sun is dipping on the horizon. Everything is bathed in golden light. Octo orders the skipper to pull into a small bay on the island's northern side and I immediately recognise the green objects that shade the sandy bay.

I have seen them in photos, but never

expected to lay eyes on them. Trees! Magnificent, blooming trees of every shape imaginable.

I'm still gazing at them when Hammerhead

                                                            pg 115

pokes his head through the hatchway. "Vat now, Serp?"

Octo tucks the flare gun into his waistband. "You stay here with the sub. I'm going ashore. And I'm taking the boy with me, just in case you get any ideas about leaving. Understand?"

Hammerhead glares at him. If looks could kill, Octo would be dead and buried.

"If you harm one hair on his head ...

But Octo is already grabbing me by the arm. He pushes me into the sea and jumps after me. The water is cold, but I can swim like a fish. We all can at Basin City.

We stumble ashore, stagger up the yellow sand, and sit gasping for breath on the beach. I can see Hammerhead on the prow of the sub, looking worried. I wave to let him know I'm okay. He seems relieved.

If only he knew he is alone with a sub full of snakes!

In the excitement of experiencing the Surface, I have forgotten the snakes. Until now.

That's when it hits me — the reason Octo has brought them here aboard the sub.

                                                      pg 116

I turn to him as he wipes water off the flare gun. "The snakes!" I Say:"This island is for them, isn't it?"

He looks at me as if I am an insect under his microscope. "You found my children in the hold, did you?" He stands and brushes the sand from his legs. "Yes. This will be their new home. No cages, no microchips — just them and me in paradise. Your stupid father never believed such a place existed. None of them did. 'Crazy Octo, they called me. Well, who's crazy now?"

"Others will find this place;' I say, getting to my feet. "When the skipper and I get back, we'll tell everyone what you've found ... what you have done!"

"What makes you think you're going back?" he says.

I stand there on that sandy bay with my mouth open, but no words come out.

By nightfall, Octo has explored the bay and the surrounding jungle and we swim back to the

                                                     pg 117

sub beneath a million stars.

Hammerhead helps haul me up out of the water. "You all right, boy?" he asks.

I nod.

"Vat's he up to on this island?" he whispers urgently.

I drip on the deck, shivering in the unfamiliar night air.

"Welcome to Octo Serp's new snake zoo!" I reply, pointing to the island.

The blood drains from his face. "There are snakes on the island?"

"Not yet."

"Vat do you mean? Vere in blazes does he expect to get them from?"

Octo overhears us and laughs cruelly. "Didn't the kid tell you yet? There are three hundred mating pairs of snakes safely stowed in your hold, Skipper. And tomorrow you'll help me release them all!"

                                                    

                                                                  

Room 11 Self Managers - Shanra, Lucy, Nikki and Brylee

Looking after the Pizza Orders This is a big job for the classrooms. We have to be very accurate when taking the orders. It can be a problem when we get late orders - please get them to us before 9.00. Thanks - our profits go towards camps and extra resources for our classrooms.

Untitled from Merryl McAllister on Vimeo.

Interactive Equivalent Fractions Games and Activities for Hexagons

Interactive Equivalent Fractions Games and Activities

Kieran and Jake's block towers

These are some of the towers that Jake and I made Yesterday. They were a real challenge for us. We really enjoyed hope you do to.

spelling liam

today i have made a huge improvement with my spelling. I only got 2 wont wrong when I did the test.

Deep Ark 6 - Chapter 8

                                                            Chapter 8

                                                  Pg 97

Coralville is the biggest undersea city in the Pacific Ocean. It's also the closest to DA6, after Basin City. Even so, it's more than six thousand kilometres away, and it'll take at least two or three days to get there. And that's in a reliable, seaworthy sub. The Sea Slug is neither of those things. On top of that, she's laden to the gills with supplies of fuel and food.

We're about six hours out of DA6 and all this time I haven't spoken a word to Hammerhead. Not that he's been in a talkative mood. He hasn't moved once from his grubby captain's chair. His bulging eyes are fixed ahead, on the sea outside. From time to time, I hear him mutter to his beloved sub. "Easy, little lady ... easy. Long road ahead ... long, long road ..."

                                                   pg 98

I sleep for hours among the sacks of flour and rice stored in the tiny forward cabin. It's 

uncomfortable and my ribs are still sore, but I'm dead beat. .

When I awake, I   have  no 'idea what time of day it is. Outside, it's as black as midnight. I've grown used to the artificial daylight and seasons back at Basin City. Now my body clock is completely out of whack.

I wonder how Dad and Old Joe are getting on back at DA6. Have they caught Octo Serp? I hope so. 

Lock him in the boa pen!

I need to stretch my cramped legs, so I go exploring in the Sea Slug.

Hammerhead barely acknowledges me as I pop my head up into his stuffy cockpit in the cramped conning tower. I carry on.

The Sea Slug is a typical, old-style sub-trawler. Built for military use on the Surface, the sub has been converted to trawl for fish deep under the sea. Not much has been done to her since.

                                                      pg 99

There's more rust than metal now. She is like an ancient whale, tottering through the sea.

There are six cabins on the top deck. The forward cabin is normally used as the skipper's quarters, but it's now stacked with supplies. Next is the chart room, covered with a spew of old maps and mouldy papers. Then there's the crew galley and dining room. Sound cosy? It isn't. The galley hasn't been used since she was on the Surface. Hammerhead prefers packet soups and instant noodles. The oven is black with old grease and cockroaches roam the filthy grill.

Behind these foul cabins are the old crew's quarters. But, since the Sea Slug doesn't have a crew, the space is now stuffed to the ceiling with fishing nets, greasy ropes and rank-smelling bait boxes.

Down below, through a tight hatch, lies the engine room. I saw enough of that when the skipper and the boa did their tango! It's lined with spare barrels of fuel and oil. It's noisy, smelly and hellishly hot.

I scramble past pumping motors and pistons

                                                         pg 100

and enter the hold at the back of the engine room. This is the largest space on board the sub. Originally, it would have held torpedoes, but it has been converted for fish storage.

Except we aren't'fishing. Now every bit of space is stacked with crates and boxes. Enough food to feed an army, I'd said to Old Joe as he was loading it back at DA6.

"Can't be too careful, lad," he replied. "On a journey like you're takin, you can never have too many supplies!"

A solitary bulb, dangling by a frayed wire, lights the hold. In its yellow light, I walk down the narrow gangway, reading the labels on the boxes: rice, salt, sugar, flour, coffee; tins of tuna, baked beans, canned fruit; packets of biscuits and salt crackers ...

Suddenly, something moves.

I stop in my tracks. There it is again — a shadow on the hull, at the far end of the hold.

It is too big to be a rat. My heart races. Not another snake! Surely not. Hammerhead checked every inch of the sub.

I slowly back up, keeping an eye out for

                                                       pg 101

any other sign of movement. The sub makes a sudden course correction, throwing me against a stack of crates. The light bulb is swinging crazily now.

I see a blur of movement ... a rush ... then the light shatters.

I stagger in the dark. "Skipper! Is that you?" In my guts, I know it isn't. I know exactly who it is.

"Octo Serp?" I call out. Next thing, I feel cold hands around my throat. I get a glimpse of an oily ponytail, then there's a hoarse whisper in my ear.

"In person!"

Keeping one hand on my throat, Octo Serp moves his other hand behind my back and I feel the painful poke of a barrel in my back. The flare gun! He must have found it!

"Nice and slow now, young Rom," he hisses. "Up the ladder. Let's go see that bug-eyed skipper of yours."

"What do you want, Serp?" I spit back, with all the courage I can muster.

He doesn't answer, just pokes the barrel even

                                                          pg 102

harder into my back.

I have no choice but to do as he says.

"Are you out of your mind? That's the craziest thing I ever heard!"

Hammerhead's eyes look like ripe tomatoes about to pop. Octo Serp's lips part in a flicker of a smile,  but it's a smile as cold as the abyss.

We are all crowded into the stuffy cockpit, with Octo still holding the flare gun in his hand. He has 

the skipper and me covered.

Hammerhead turned white as a ghost's laundry when Octo appeared but, now that he's heard what

Octo wants, the colour has come flooding back to his cheeks.

He slams his hand on the control panel. "I vill not do it!" he shouts. "It is impossible!"

Octo's smile has .slithered away and his cold black eyes stare unblinking, like a shark. "You 

will do exactly what you're told to do!" he hisses.

He jabs a long finger at the chart on the

                                                        pg 103

table. "You will take me to this reference point. It's twelve hours south-west of our current position."

"But that's the opposite direction to Coralville!" I interrupt.

"The boy is right!" shouts Hammerhead. "It is the middle of nowhere. Just empty sea bottom!"

Octo laughs out loud. It sounds like a rusty saw cutting sheet metal.

"I'm not interested in the sea bottom," he cackles. "There's something more interesting there — much more interesting?'

We stare at him, stunned. The map shows only barren ocean in every direction.

The skipper breaks the silence. "You really are as crazy as a barrel of snakes!"

Octo is not laughing now. He waves the barrel of the flare gun in the skipper's direction. "Turn this rust bucket around, now! And you," he snarls, turning the gun on me, "go below and get me that antivenom case you've stowed away!"

I look at him, anger burning in my eyes.

                                                              pg 104

that what all this is about? Dad's antivenom? What good will it do you? Where we're headed, there isn't a snake in a thousand kilometres:'

With the speed of a striking cobra, Octo a

shoots out a hand andagrabs ..my collar. He

pulls me close to his reptilian face and hisses, "For your information, boy, I am the one who created the antivenoms in that case. Me! Not your ignorant father. He would be nothing without me. The whole of DA6 was my creation. He treated my snakes like ... like reptiles! Like cows to be milked of their venom. I was the one who truly loved them! I am the one who will rescue them from their prison!"

He throws me to the deck, his eyes wide and wild.

"You have caused me a lot of trouble today. Don't keep pushing your luck, kid. Your daddy isn't here to help you any more. So go get me my antivenom!"

I'm stunned. Octo Serp is absolutely, certifiably insane!

I stumble down the ladder to the cabins below.

                                                                     pg 105

For a long while, I sit on a bag of rice in the forward cabin. The Sea Slug has turned around to follow Octo's new course. What is that madman up to?

My mind is spinning.

There is something he said back in the cockpit, something that has stuck in my mind like a damaged CD: "I was the one who truly loved them! I am the one who will rescue them from their prison!"

What did he mean by "rescue them from their prison"? All the snakes are safely back in their cages at DA6. Unless ...

An icy chill runs down my spine. I leap to my feet and bolt down the ladder to the hold. The shattered light bulb still dangles from its frayed wire. I find a greasy torch and flick it on.

I begin to search among the piled-up crates and boxes. My heart is thumping louder than the diesel engines next door. At the back of the hold, in the place where Octo had hidden in the shadows, I find them.

                                                               pg 106

A dozen large wooden crates, higher than my head. Stencilled on the sides in black ink are the words Engine Parts.

I  climb up on the nearest crate, torch in hand.

A startled rat, fat and4ily black, darts away into the shadows. It almost gives me a heart attack.

The crate lid is nailed shut. I look around for something to lever it open. A broken piece of wooden pallet is all I can find. It will have to do. Bracing myself on top of the crate, I begin to prise open the lid.

The timber creaks, then suddenly cracks in half. I'm sent tumbling backwards, whacking my shoulder painfully on the deck.

Surely Octo has heard the crash. I lie motionless for a while, waiting for him to come and investigate. But he doesn't come. The Sea Slug chugs on into the black sea.

I scramble back up onto the crate. The gap I've made in the crate lid is no wider than a baseball bat. But it's big enough for me to see the contents within.

There are no oily engine parts. The crate is packed with containers. Transparent containers

                                                      pg 107

dotted with small air holes. And, in each container, eyes unblinking, tongues flicking, are snakes!

Octo's children. Hundreds of them!