It began to assemble in its dark heart a great rage, which made even more unbalanced his mind. A rush of adrenaline went through all of its millennial ganglia and the atavistic beast reminded herself that he was the god of the sea. The god of the war. And its enemies should only die.
14.
The sweat was dripping profusely from the Old Gringo's temples. He was trying to shoot the tentacles whose attacks had become more frequent and difficult to intercept. Without waiting for a command or an indication, Alfonso had started to change the trajectory of the boat, going zig-zag, darting into unpredictable semicircles in order to confuse the monster.
But Tanador proved itself very unwilling to be deceived, and, above all, very fast. He could stand up at a rate of one hundred and fifty miles per hour. It was refusing to be intimidated by the heavy armored counterattack.
"Don't lose the direction!" the Old Gringo shouted in a break between a burst and the next "The maneuvers are fine, but don't lose the direction."
"What's the situation?" Alfonso said.
Despite the high speeds sending a dry and sharp wind on their faces, the shreds of the monstrous fabric, felt on the vessel, was spreading an unbearable stench.
"We're running out of ammunition" the Old Gringo said.
Exactly what Alfonso didn't want to hear. He was sweating now, although all his labor was simply to maneuver the wheel and hold his breath. He had never been clear about the opposite values in the battlefield but now he knew it was coming to an end. An unfavorable end. They needed something new to turn the tide.
A click suddenly turned him over. The Old Gringo looked at him, his face drenched. He finally said:
"No more ammunition, boy."
Then he fell to his knees, without strength, catching his breath. Beside him a shapeless heap of empty cartridge tapes was lying like an abandoned suit. Tanador was very close.
Slightly traumatized by the painful efforts of its offensive tentacles that were fixed in painful counterattacks, Tanador was now trying to approach the boat with all its monstrous mass, in order to crush the entire ship with all its crew aboard.
Without thinking twice, Alfonso took a sudden decision.
He pressed the command launching the depth charges.
The sound of the released bullet running through the groove metal of the boat was listened by the Old Gringo, who understood immediately.
"You fool! What have you done, we are too close t ..."
There was a roar. A huge explosion fully hit the monster but also produced a flame and a shockwave that swept into the boat. The Old Gringo hardly tried to stand up on the ship while Alfonso felt him invested by the rotten flesh of the monster and assorted metal equipment. Fortunately it wasn't a painful impact.
The monster seemed slightly dazed.
"It 's been too risky! We could blow up with him" the Old Gringo chided.
"It 's too fast! And it was too close. He almost caught us" Alfonso said.
"Anyway we are still alive..." the Old Gringo concluded.
And soon after that, he searched in the door next to the helm.
"What are you looking for?" Alfonso asked.
"This one."
He was carrying a signaling gun. Without another word, he fired a rocket in front of the boat, to the darkest night. The rocket described a long arc and fell back slowly toward the sea, with a faint glow outlining the profile of an islet.
"Triton island..." he said peering at the horizon "After all, you were good at keeping the route."
Tanador, meanwhile, resumed the chase.
15.
There was a legend about Triton island. It said that the thief Melish, belonging to the race of the tritons, was traveling through our world and hers, stealing treasures. She than hided them in that place the local fishermen now identified with the name of her great race. It wasn't an island like the others. It was rather a shapeless mass of caves, ledges and coves similar to an irregular archipelago of rocky crags, covered here and there by sparse vegetation.
Navigate through it was very dangerous.
However, thinking about the situation, Alfonso realized that the Old Gringo's idea was to cross it. That morning they passed precisely in front of Triton island and the old adventurer thoroughly studied the environment ...
"So you want us to do a slalom between those rocks?" Alfonso said.
"In Japan there's a particular way of capturing polyps" the Old Gringo said "They bring a jar with a bait on the seabed. Polyps know get in but ignore how to get out..."
"You're still thinking at that being as though as it's a normal clam" Alfonso said.
"You know" he simply said.
Tanador was coming back to the boat, not at all hampered by the heavy blow it just suffered. A single word could have been used to describe how fast it was approaching the boat. Relentless.
"Take the cave on the right" the Old Gringo said.
Alfonso understood the plan. He had already directed the boat there. He cast one more look back at the monster, and he felt, for the first time since the beginning of that epic battle, the instinct of the fisherman who wants to grab its prey.
Perhaps the parties were reversed.
"This way, little fish..." he said softly. He held back an half-heartedly smile while veering to the right.
16.
The motorboat wedged itself under the rocky arch that was the entrance of the sea cave. Decreasing the number of the engine's gear to slow down, Alfonso reminded himself when, immature kid, he faced a test of courage to make himself look brave, just right there. It was a stupid act that could endanger his boat for a stupid question of pride, but proved that he was able to go through the cave without getting stranded...
Looking back at that episode, he felt really stupid. It all went well, but he had risked so much for a so foolish prize. Now, however, his life and his happiness were in play. That experience could reveal itself very useful.
Slipping deftly between a wall and the others in a state of gloom, Alfonso perfectly remembered every square inch of that cave. The adrenaline, the determination, and the exaltation would have let him guided the boat even eye-closed.
The Old Gringo at his side was quiet as usual. A look of satisfaction came over his face, noticing the baldness of his young companion. He bet on the young fisherman, he trusted him. Alfonso was paying off in the best way.
At the entrance of the monster, the boat already covered half of the cave. The two men on board felt the tentacles and the body of the filthy creature venturing into the heart of that dark tunnel, sweeping away everything.
Eventually the boat was able to see the exit and headed for it with relief. The monster was finding some difficulties on moving forward. But there was a roar again.
"What the hell!" Alfonso yelled, trying to rise above the roar itself.
"The Cave" the Old Gringo screamed "it's going to collapse for the passage of the monster! Hurry up!"
The rocks began to crumble on the side walls and a series of explosions followed each other as if they were the prelude to the end of the world. Alfonso looked up and saw that rock debris dripped from the roof such like sand from a broken hourglass. He felt lost for a moment.
But he recovered quickly.
He planted his right hand on the speed lever and the engine power significantly increased. The boat settled itself in a new, great going, almost prancing upwards, while small and large boulders began to drop toward the floor of the water, spotted by bursts of spray.
The boat reached almost ungovernable speeds in a few seconds, but, despite that, Alfonso managed to maintain the trajectory and to avoid a couple of looming boulders. Then, just ten meters from the cave exit an oversized rock collapsed, closing completely the viable water area.
"Nooo!" the Old Gringo exclaimed.
Alfonso didn't slow down.
"What are you doing!?" the Old Gringo cried.
"There's room" Alfonso simply said, a foolish determination in his ey
es.
The speedboat started describing a weak lateral trajectory, arched inwards, at full speed.
To the right of the huge boulder - the Old Gringo realized - there was a kind of dry rocky.
Understanding the boy's intentions, the elder adventurer had the temptation to let him give up but finally fell silent.
The boat was launched at full speed towards the right wall. It had a violent jolt when first rebounded the hard texture of the rock, but didn't end its run. Indeed, it miraculously went on for about ten yards throwing sparks and then falling back, almost exhausted, on the sea surface again. The rocky obstacle was behind them.
There was no time to breathe a sigh. Straightening the rudder and adjusting to new rides, Alfonso led the ship to the exit of the cave, turned down and returned again to breathe under the starry sky. Triton Island was transforming into an hell of rocks and debris.
17.
Alfonso and the Elder got a look back only once they reached a distance of three hundred yards. They finally heard the last sound of collapsing rocks.
The young fisherman was very tired. Splinters and sweat mingled on his face and his body was covered by bruises and scratches. He was been emptied by the tension of the combat, now gradually decreasing in intensity.
The benign stars shone in the sky and the silence, broken by explosions and earthquakes, slowly resumed its placid domain over the ocean and the night.
The profile of Triton Island was quiet again. The terrible threat of Tanador was buried under the rocks.
The boat was bedraggled almost as much as the young sailor. The engine was still running, but sending troubling coughing. The aerodynamic line of her keel was splintered, battered, unrecognizable.
The Old Gringo looked tired but still had a combative attitude. He made a quick check-up of the boat, sliding the screens of its onboard computer. Than he shook his head.
"You've completely ruined me" he said.
"Eh?" Alfonso said on the verge of collapse.
"You've ruined me" the Old Gringo repeated "The speedboat is damaged."
Alfonso didn't even have the strength to answer. He swallowed a couple of times and took two deep breaths while its companion was carefully studying the weapons' screen.
He then picked up the strength to say:
"Let's get out of here. Let's go home. We have done what we had to do."
"Nothing is done if something remains to be done, remember?" The Old Gringo said.
"What the hell should we do now?"
In response, the silence of the night was interrupted by the movement of a new rockslide, whose echoes resounded from Triton island. Ten seconds later the most terrible cry the young fisherman had ever heard rose to the sky. The surface of the sea started to shake and vibrate within several miles.
Alfonso felt his veins frozing. The Old didn't change his face.
"As I feared..." he simply said.
Gradually the profile of Triton island changed again. The unstable archipelago of collapsed rocks started to move slowly, pressed from below by a strong and atavistic power. Within a minute, the slimy and rotting mass of Tanador regained contact with the ocean air.
Without saying anything, the old man jumped in front of the cockpit, his boots firmly placed on the keel bow. Armed by a screwdriver, he was forcing with lucid frenzy a panel on the speedboat. He tore it with his trusty machete and pulled out the shiny head of a big bullet. According to Alfonso's eyes, it seemed in every way a missile.
"What the hell is that?" the boy asked.
"A nuclear missile" the Old Gringo replied.
"You're kidding, aren't you?"
The Old Gringo looked very serious.
"It 'a nuclear missile" he repeated.
"Are you telling me that I traveled a day and a night with an atomic bomb under my ass?" Alfonso said, incredulously.
"The launching device of the torpedo has gone bad" the old man said, ignoring the question "The only way to blow this trinket is to manually activate the detonator with a powerful blow to the tip of its head."
"Do you ever listen me when I talk to you!?!?" Alfonso screamed. He was starting to sense the Old Gringo's intentions.
"I never thought it would be necessary" the Old Gringo said, wearing brass knuckles "I won it after a fight a couple of years ago, in a Quito bar .. . "
"Old Gringo! Please, stop yourself and listen to me!" Alfonso yelled.
The night was silent. The breeze was light and lovely. The storm winds had passed. The dawn would have been a proud showcase for nature and its actors, ready to renew once again the miracle of the rising sun with the quiet sweetness of a benign deity. The Old Gringo stopped and looked at Alfonso. The stars were singing a mild melody on the score of the sky.
"Boy" the elder adventurer said "The most important thing in a war is the end. The most important thing is understanding how to bow out."
"Old Gringo" Alfonso said "I know your intentions and I can't let you go further."
"Nobody has ever managed to stop me" the Old Gringo said "If you want to succeed, you still need a thousand years of training!"
Alfonso was about to reply when the Old Gringo interrupted him.
"Remember!" he admonished "As long as there's still a drop of life in it, we won't rest in peace! Remember!"
Then, without warning, he punched the young sailor, who was knocked out unconscious. The screams of Tanador began to rise again towards the sky.
18.
He awakened a few minutes later. His head was about to explode. The Old Gringo wasn't there anymore. The boat was traveling at several miles per hour in the opposite direction. On Triton Island, the first hints of dawn lit the distant silhouette of the huge and terrible sea polyp, almost completely freed by its temporary prison.
Alfonso immediately took the helm to steer and collect the Old Gringo, wherever he was, but something stopped him.
Where once Triton Island was, where the evil and awful Tanador was trapped, a mushroom explosion rose in the air, accompanied by a roar of several decibels.
Alfonso imagined the Old Gringo giving a punch with his brass knuckles to the nuclear warhead, activating the detonator. He leaned his head back in the driving seat, while the explosion lifted the boat with a tidal wave, sending icy sprays on his face. Perhaps he had not suffered, Alfonso thought.
A tear lined his cheek.
19.
Alfonso returned to shore exhausted, while the adrenaline of the battle was flowing inexorably from his body. When he reached Asuncion, he found on the dock a welcome committee that included all the village inhabitants.
Her sister Marisol ran toward him, sobbing with happiness, squeezing him in a hug. She was afraid that he would never return.
Her parents also surrounded him with love, while hot tears streaked their faces, full of wrinkles and grief. They were grateful that this time fate was benign.
The rest of the country rallied around the young and brave sailor and led him in triumph into the town square. But he eschewed his personal glory early on. He told to all what had happened, the bulk of the terrible monster, the last battle, the final deed of the Old Gringo.
"He sacrificed himself to save us" Alfonso said, disconsolately.
"The important thing is that you are safe" his mother said.
"It 's true!" people said "He was just an old and arrogant man!"
But Alfonso didn't think so. He had learnt to know him, understand him and finally appreciate him. He knew that his arrogant tone, his intolerable presumption, were nothing more than the armor with which the Old Gringo faced life. And he knew that, behind that gruff and irritating attitude, it lurked a man who knew the true values of life: action, fighting, courage.
Alfonso couldn't feel happy or relieved.
But suddenly, a centaur sheathed in a full black leather, broke into the village square, driving a motorcycle. His long raincoat flapped like a flag in the night wind.
He entered the crowd's circle, among ever
yone's amazement and, once captured everyone's attention, he parked his vehicle dismounting down with a plastic pose.
Then he took off his helmet. It was the Old Gringo!
Alfonso thought he was dreaming. That old blockhead had just had his usual spectacular entering on stage.
"So guy" he said in a cocky tone "How does it look like now, my tub? Have you finally sinked it?".
He was referring to his hyper-speed boat, which laid quite battered down the pier.
Alfonso widened his mouth in a very broad smile.
"Old Gringo! You're still alive! " he exclaimed.
"Yeah, boy, I'm alive. Tell your neighbors to remove those long faces. "
Embarrassed, the villagers lacked the courage to tell him that he didn't care at all of his fate, especially compared to Alfonso's... but sometimes it's right to hide inconvenient truths. Alfonso didn't resist the urge to hug him, his eyes glistening.
"Hey, hey, take it slow, boy" the Old Gringo said, a little embarrassed.
"But how did you get safe?" Alfonso asked.
"Inflatable Rescue" he turned out "I climbed on board of it, setting the route of the speed boat so the monster was attracted to you. Distracted by anger and fury, the big polyp directed itself towards you without noticing me. So I succeeded in placing the bomb on one of the tentacles, then, at a safe distance, I blew a fuse."
"You really know one more trick than the devil, Old Gringo!" the boy said. He was really happy the old adventurer had survived.
The rest of the day and the night saw off lightly.
They sang and danced until the wee hours. The Old Gringo got drunk and harassed a couple of young girls. Someone suggested to kick him out of the country, but Alfonso prevented this to happen.
When the time came for him to go, he couldn't suppress a lump in his throat. He would be forever grateful for what he had done and the lessons that he gave him. Those lessons would accompany him for the rest of his life.
Where the monstrous beings rebels against the human domain, where the weak one is subdued by the strongest, where the hope seems to be lost permanently, there's only one man you can call. Marlins, giant octopuses or aliens. It doesn't make any difference in front of his firepower. He is the protector of the fishermen, the savior of the poor, the defender of the afflicted ones. He has a single, enigmatic name that resonates in the night like a bold and triumphant threat to the evil forces.