Note: Sequel to Old Debts

The Second Grave

By Caribou Kid

Lee Crane, captain of the SSRN Seaview, crown jewel of the Nelson Institute for Marine Research, strolled casually down the passageway of his boat. It was nearing 0100 and he was conducting what had been affectionately dubbed by his crew as a walk-a-boat; that time at the end of his day when he touched base with those crew members who worked the late watch and for all intents and purposes tucked his best girl in for the night before retiring. This was one of his favorite activities as the leisurely stroll allowed him to unwind and to just enjoy being aboard his gray lady.

As he ambled down the passageway the quiet was suddenly shattered by the report of several gunshots coming from the direction of the admiral's cabin. Lee spun on his heel and sprinted down the corridor heading towards his boss' and surrogate father's quarters to render assistance. Nearing the door, he felt his blood run cold as he heard a high pitched, terror-filled scream from behind the door.

Reaching the door he grabbed the knob and flung the door open only to be momentarily frozen by the horror he encountered inside. There on the floor lay the admiral's limp body and atop him was a huge male mandrill. At the sound of the door opening the animal turned its head, its face bathed in the admiral's blood, and slowly drew back its lips baring its 3 inch fangs in what could only be called a sadistic smile. He recognized the animal immediately as the mingehe, a malevolent forest spirit from the African jungle sent to destroy him by a passenger on their last cruise.

Recovering his wits Lee slowly eased his right hand down his side and was only mildly surprised to find a holster and his .45 resting inside. He unsnapped the flap wrapped his hand around the grip and withdrew his weapon. He leveled the gun at the ape waiting for it to move away from the admiral in hopes that it would do him no additional harm.

He mentally cataloged the scene before him as he assessed his options. Resting on top of Nelson's desk was the box the mingehe had been stored in and lying next to it was the small solid gold collar and chain that had been placed around its neck. The admiral's chair had been shoved back against the wall and he was lying on his back off to the side of the desk, his chest bathed in blood, his body motionless.

Staring intently at Crane, the mandrill slowly climbed off the admiral's body to face the true target of its rage and assigned vengeance. As it cleared Nelson it was readily apparent that the admiral was dead, a gaping hole ripped in his throat following the animal's attack. No longer fearing for Harri's safety, Lee cried out in rage and agony, and proceeded to empty the clip in his gun hitting the mandrill all nine times.

Aside from knocking the thing to the floor from the force behind the bullets, they otherwise had no effect as the mandrill roared in anger as it reclaimed its feet. Lee swore vehemently and slowly began backing his way out of the admiral's cabin. The mingehe opened its mouth wide baring its massive fangs and razor sharp teeth and hissed loudly as it watched its quarry edge its way towards the door.

Lee's effort to snag the doorknob and pull the door shut proved the trigger and the mingehe launched itself across the cabin slamming into him and propelling him through the door and into the bulkhead across the passageway with incredible force. Dazed and breathless, his head reeling from the impact, Lee slid limply down the wall to the deck. He fought desperately to pull much needed air into his lungs and fend off the maniacal beast scratching and snapping at his chest and throat. The mingehe effortlessly batted away his attempt to push it off and roared loudly deafening him. It cocked its head to one side, drew back its lips in a malevolent sneer, spread its jaws wide then struck cobra-fast snuffing out his life.

(oo)

Lee shot bolt upright in bed, eyes wide with fear as the sound of his screams echoed across the room. He was bathed in sweat and breathing hard as though he'd just sprinted across an open field through enemy fire. He was physically trembling and he drew a shaking hand through his damp locks. He clamped his eyes shut as he tried to slow his heart and calm his breathing.

After a moment and feeling more in control he opened his eyes to find himself in his own bed in his own bedroom. He let loose a relieved and weary sigh as he realized that it was just another dream and he was safely ensconced in his home. As the trembling subsided he pushed up out of bed and made his way to the bathroom to grab a glass of water. He gulped the water down and returned to his bed sitting tiredly down on the side.

He'd been home a week now and been plagued with these dreams for six of the last seven nights. He looked at the clock and grimaced, it was just approaching 0330. Further composing himself he shoved back up to his feet, grabbed his shorts and t-shirt, and headed down to the kitchen to brew up a pot of coffee. Based on earlier experience he knew there would be no more sleep tonight.

As the coffeemaker transformed the grounds into beverage he stared blankly at the dark rivulet that ran into the pot. He wondered silently when the hell this would all be over and the dreams would fade away. He'd spent the week it took them to reach port in sick bay and then two weeks after that in med bay under Jamie's watchful eyes as he made his slow convalescence. It had only been through constant whining and begging that would have done a 5 year old proud, was he able to connive his way out and home.

Home usually let him regain his center and shed the effects of whatever mission had beaten him down. It wasn't working this time, in fact things had gotten progressively worse. He was dead tired and was to the point of actually considering the pills Jamie had sent home with him to at least give his body a shot at rest. Although the wounds had pretty much healed and all the sutures were gone he still felt weaker than he should and ached constantly further adding to his difficulties sleeping.

When the coffeemaker spit out the last of the brew he pulled out the carafe, grabbed his cup and filled it to the brim with the restorative. He inhaled the aroma deeply then sipped cautiously on the hot beverage sighing in relief as he felt the caffeine make its way into his system. Having polished off half the cup he refilled it then made his way to the kitchen table to sit and try to pull himself together.

Today was the first day he was being allowed back in the office and he'd need a lot of coffee before he headed into work to look as lifelike as possible. If Jamie got even an inkling of his current problems he would have him corralled and back in a bed in less than a heartbeat. He pushed a hand through his hair again feeling somewhat better as the caffeine diffused into his bloodstream beating back the exhaustion fighting hard to consume him.

He finished off the pot and contemplated brewing another as he looked up at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was now nearly 0500 and he decided to get the next pot started while he went upstairs and got ready for work. The earlier he got in the better the chance he had of more fully waking up and putting forward an alert and functional facade.

(oo)