Banshee Beneath

Prologue

The unremitting storm had now finally abated, and all Ben wanted was to go back to the land and lay his head down on his girlfriend's lap. The storm had been like a monstrous toddler who had cried and wailed for straight three days, kicking its huge hands and legs in the ocean, sending huge waves that had rocked their longliner as if it were a child's plastic boat. But thankfully the brat named Pacific storm had shut up, and JB had realized when people say that Pacific storms are the worst, then they mean it with their life.

Standing dreamily on the deck near the fore, Ben looked up at the sky. The grey clouds had started to melt away and he could see the stars through them. A breeze was coming in from the south-east. After spending three days in corner of his small room in the fear of their ship being capsized in the storm, walking out on the deck felt really good.

He heard footsteps approaching and turned on his heels and came face to face with a middle-aged man.

"Guam is not that way," the man said.

"I know that," Ben said. "I was just looking at that." He pointed at a speck of light bobbing at the horizon. "What do you think? What are those people up to, Vince?"

Vince, the younger brother of the captain, shrugged. "Beats me. They are probably constructing--ah what do you call them? Oil plants?"

"But don't they built them near the shelf?" Ben said, looking back at the light that seemed to be growing brighter. "We are near the Mariana Trench. I bet you can't build those oil pumping machines there. It's too deep. I bet they are doing something else."

"I really don't know." Vince pushed his hands into the pocket of his plastic apron. "I'm just a normal fisherman."

"Talking about fishing," Ben said, "This probably was a bad trip, wasn't it?"

Vince gave him a smile that was both doleful and warm. "Fishing is like a gamble, kid. Sometimes you catch a lot of them. Sometimes you catch none of them. Sometimes you catch them, but the storm breaks your line. This is the sea--"

Before he could finish his line, a wave of tremor passed through his body. Ben felt it too and looked in the direction of the light. What was that? A nuclear explosion underwater?

He grabbed the cold, metal railing and braced as another shockwave rocked their boat. Vince lost his balance and had to use the nearby barrel to prevent himself from breaking his hipbone. "What the fu--"

He stopped again as the noise of the thumping blades filled the night air. Two specks of light were approaching them from the direction of the tremor. One of the lights was floating up in the air, and Ben realized it was a helicopter. The second light represented a small motorboat had stopped near the starboard side. The helicopter continued to hover over their ship.

Ben leaned against the railing and took a look at the small boat. He saw two people in it, both of them in some kind of waterproof uniform.

"I'll go and fetch up my brother," Vince said and started for the door that was right behind them.

"Aren't you guys a little far away for fishing tuna?" One of the uniformed guys said, looking up at Ben.

"The storm washed our boat away," Ben said, then paused, thought about it and finally added. "And snapped our fishing line."

"Well the sea is a bitch," the man said. "We came from there." He pointed at the bubble of light behind him. "Thought you needed help."

"We are cool," Ben said. He paused again, licked his lips and added. "What are you guys doing there? I thought a nuke bomb went off underwater..."

It was hard to tell in the night, but Ben was sure that the man was laughing. The man shook his head. "Nah, kid. It was just some big dynamites."

Ben's right eyebrow arched upwards. "Eh?"

"It's nothing to worry about. We are just clearing the path."

Clearing the path for what? And before he could ask that, the door behind him opened again and Vince walked out with the captain of the ship. The old men talked for a while. Ben was ordered to go to the bridge and watch out.

Clearing the path for what? The question kept bugging his mind like a sharp needle. He didn't find the answer to that question on that day but did two weeks later on the T.V.

That day, the island of Guam, Ben's home, would be hit by the tallest waves the island had ever seen. And the creator of these huge waves would not be mother nature but one single man.