The Judas Strain - James Rollins [5]
“What the hell is that?” Gregg asked.
Susan answered as she crossed closer. “I’ve heard of such manifestations. They’re called milky seas. Ships have reported glows like this in the Indian Ocean, going all the way back to Jules Verne. In 1995, a satellite even picked up one of the blooms, covering hundreds of square miles. This is a small one.”
“Small, my ass,” her husband grunted. “But what exactly is it? Some type of red tide?”
She shook her head. “Not exactly. Red tides are algal blooms. These glows are caused by bioluminescent bacteria, probably feeding off algae or some other substrate. There’s no danger. But I’d like to—”
A sudden knock sounded beneath the boat, as if something large had struck it from below. Oscar’s barking became more heated. The dog danced back and forth along the rails, trying to poke his head through the posts.
All three of them joined the dog and looked below.
The glowing edge of the milky sea lapped at the yacht’s keel. From the depths below, a large shape rolled into view, belly up, but still squirming, teeth gnashing. It was a massive tiger shark, over six meters. The glowing waters frothed over its form, bubbling and turning the milky water into red wine.
Susan realized it wasn’t water that was bubbling over the shark’s belly, but its own flesh, boiling off in wide patches. The horrible sight sank away. But across the milky seas, other shapes rolled to the surface, thrashing or already dead: porpoises, sea turtles, fish by the hundreds.
Applegate took a step away from the rail. “It seems these bacteria have found more than just algae to feed on.”
Gregg turned to stare at her. “Susan…”
She could not look away from the deadly vista. Despite the horror, she could not deny a twinge of scientific curiosity.
“Susan…”
She finally turned to him, slightly irritated.
“You were diving,” he explained, and pointed. “In that water. All day.”
“So? We were all in the water at least some time. Even Oscar did some dog-paddling.”
Her husband would not meet her gaze. He remained focused on where she was scratching her forearm. The wet suit sometimes chafed her limbs. But the worry in his tight face drew her attention to her forearm. Her skin was pebbled in a severe rash, made worse by her scratching.
As she stared, bruising red welts bloomed on her skin.
“Susan…”
She gaped in disbelief. “Dear God…”
But she also knew the horrible truth.
“It’s…it’s in me.”
EXPOSURE
1
Dark Madonna
JULY 1, 10:34 A.M.
Venice, Italy
HE WAS BEING HUNTED.
Stefano Gallo hurried across the open plaza square. The morning sun already baked the stones of the piazza, and the usual throng of tourists sought shady spots or crowded the gelato shop that lay within the shadow of St. Mark’s Basilica. But this most lofty of all of Venice’s landmarks, with its towering Byzantine facade, massive bronze horses, and domed cupolas, was not his goal.
Not even such a blessed sanctuary could offer him protection.
There was only one hope.
His steps became more rushed as he passed by the basilica. The piazza’s pigeons scattered from his path as he stumbled through them, heedless of their flapping flight. He was beyond stealth. He had already been discovered. He had spotted the young Egyptian with the black eyes and trimmed beard as he’d entered the far side of the square. Their gazes had locked. The man was now dressed in a dark suit that flowed like oil from his wide, sharp shoulders. The first time the man had approached Stefano he had claimed to be an archaeology student out of Budapest, representing an old friend and colleague from the University of Athens.
The Egyptian had come to the Museo Archeologico searching for a specific bit of antiquity. A minor treasure. An obelisk from his country. The Egyptian, financed by his government, wished it returned to his homeland. He had come with