Spring Break in Kansas

Spring break kicked off like it did every year. Horny college kids arrived by the truckloads. Most of them were already drunk by the time they parked and checked into their condos. Our little Florida beach town was pretty laid back most of the year, but every March when the spring breakers descended, all hell broke loose.

A lot of us locals grumbled and complained, but we all knew the town relied on the influx of money they brought in every year. A symbiotic relationship had formed over the years, and now we needed each other. They needed a place to drink, snort, shoot, fuck, and party. We needed to leach all the money we could out of them before they went back to their lives to nurse a weeklong hangover. We fed off each other’s weaknesses, and that was just the way of things.

As much as I hated them, my family made about half of our living in March alone. We offered about everything you could want or need down on the beach. We rented out beach chairs with umbrellas, jet skis, ocean kayaks, and paddle boards. We also had a small tiki hut that was part sundry and part bar. We could pour you and Jager bomb and sell you sunscreen at the same time. My wife, Claire, and I typically worked the tiki hut, while our 16-year-old twins, Tyler and Sierra, worked the crowds to rent out our wares. As a dad, I wasn’t particularly fond of exploiting my twins’ beach bods and tan skin to rent jet skis to drunken frat boys and stoned sorority sisters, but tourism was about the only industry in town. Besides, they were good kids that had seen enough tourists pass through that they were as untrusting as every other local in town.

Oh, and if you’re wondering how two sixteen-year-old kids can work the beaches all day and night during the month of March when they should be in school, then you’re probably unfamiliar with the finer points of homeschooling. I might not be the best parent in the world, but I make sure my kids get a proper education and a chance to escape this beach town if that’s what they want. They were on track to graduate early that same year if the world hadn’t all gone to shit.

Besides the twins, we also had an unexpected addition to our family four years ago, and babysitters in this town during spring break came at a premium. Our little “Whoopsie” child, as my wife so affectionately nicknamed her, could usually be found playing in the sand in or near the tiki hut or being a pain in my teens’ asses. Most of the time, though, she was building elaborate castles in the sand and marching her Barbie dolls around them like princesses on a mission to find Prince Charming.

And now that I’ve introduced you to my little tribe, if you’d be so kind as to pour me another one, I’ll get back to the story you really want to hear. That’ll do, sir. Thank you. As I was saying…

It started off a spring break like any other. Claire and I were mixing drinks and selling out of SPF 40 with Whoopsie building sandcastles underfoot inside the tiki hut. I could see Tyler explaining to a drunk group of college guys that his sister was in fact underage and absolutely not interested in any of them.

To attract more patrons to the hut, my son had talked me into installing some gigantic outdoor speakers and created a playlist on Spotify that played what passes as music these days. Personally, I don’t know how anyone can call it music when there isn’t one musical instrument played in the entire playlist, but it worked. I had a group of breakers doing body shots on the bar at twelve bucks a shot.

There were volleyball games to the west of our hut and to the east a massive stage pumping out its own god-awful music for half naked coeds to twerk to in wet tees and thongs. Everywhere in between were breakers huddled into micro parties trying to or succeeding in getting laid. Just another spring break, until it undulated out of the ocean like some kind of gelatinous blob dragging limp tentacles in its wake.

As weird as it was, it was so slow-moving and ungainly, at first, that we were all more bewildered than afraid. I mean, it was basically a giant jellyfish-like creature trying to move on dry land. It was so unthreatening that it only caused a small stutter in the breakers’ party. Once they had assessed it, decided it was either non-threatening or maybe a part of the hallucinations they were already experiencing, they went right back to partying.

“Ew. What is that thing?” Claire asked, finally noticing the giant mound of snot that had crawled out of the ocean.

“Um… It looks to me like the largest freak-of-nature jellyfish that ever walked up onto a beach,” I replied with about as much tact as my mother-in-law discussing the life I was providing for her daughter.

My wife, ever the patient woman, looked me square in the eyes, pumped her thumb over her shoulder at a group of frat boys, and said, “Eat me. If I want to have an immature conversation, I’ll go back to pouring shots for those losers.”

We stared each other down, doing our best to keep a straight face, but we both failed. I’m pretty sure I was the first to crack a smile, but she didn’t leave me hanging. We both snickered for a bit, but it soon faded. There was, after all, still a giant mass of jellyfish pulsating at the edge of the surf.

“Seriously, do you think we should call Lance and the boys?” she asked.

I rolled my eyes at the sound of Lance’s name coming out of my sweet Claire’s mouth. It was involuntary. I couldn’t help myself. She and Lance were a thing for nearly three years when we were in high school. He dumped her right before our graduation ceremony and banged her drunk little sister at the after party. He was a real classy guy like that. Lucky for me, I was taking a leak next to the gazebo she had run to when she caught them in the act. There was an awkward moment when she realized not only was she not alone, but I was there pissing in the bushes.

It all worked out. We both had a laugh at the awkwardness, and I held her while she cried. Afraid I was going to be put in the friend zone, I took a chance and kissed her before the night was over. We’ve been together ever since.

I really didn’t have anything to be jealous of I thought. Not only did I get the girl, but I was also way better looking than him. Out of high school he went straight into the military life where he was medically discharged after a training accident. As a civi, he did what most drop out military guys do—became a cop. His life of pushing papers behind a desk and eating boxes of Krispy Kremes in his squad car had left him balding and sporting a massive spare tire.

I, on the other hand, took all the money I had earned renting jet skis through the years and bought the business from my aging boss. Since then, I work the tiki hut and rentals during the tourist season and run crab pots and charter fishing expeditions in the off season. My active life in the sun had kept me relatively fit and absolutely tan. Suck it, Lance. I thought knowing that if I said it aloud, Claire would tell me again how childish I was.

“Earth to John. You spaced out on me there. You can’t only tell me that it still freaks you out to hear me say Lance’s name,” she said bringing me back into the present.

“Psht. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied with the world’s worst poker face.

“Anyway, I just think we need to get the authorities down here to clear the carcass before it starts to stink. We need all these college kids on beaches, drinking, and partying,” she explained.

She was always so damn pragmatic, but as usual, she was right. Just as I was reaching for the phone on the bar, the jellyfish creature started to inflate and deflate like it was breathing, but that couldn’t be right. Could it? Jellyfish don’t breathe, but that thing sure as hell was.

“Babe, do you see that? Is it me or does it look like that thing is breathing?” I ask her.

“Hey, sweet cheeks. Can me and my buddies get some more shots of Jose?” a frat boy yelled out from the end of the bar.

“Sure thing, hun. I’ll be right with you,” Claire said to them. To me she said, “Breathing or not just call them and make it their problem. We got drinks to pour.”

“Yes, dear,” I mocked as she turned away.

For good measure I gave her smack on one of her “sweet cheeks” as she walked away. Then I reached for the phone and dialed the cops. Just my luck, Lance answered on the second ring.

“Police. What can I do you for?” Lance asked, sounding bothered.

“Hey, Lance. It’s Jake down at the Tiki Shack. We got a large jellyfish-looking thing that’s washed up on the beach down here and I was wondering if you boys could come take care of that?”

“Jake, are you kidding me with this shit. You know it’s spring break, and I’m up to my asshole in drunk and disorderlies, not to mention all the indecent exposure complaints. And you call me about cleaning up a jellyfish? Have you had too much sun, today?”

“Well, this isn't just a jellyfish,” I said defensively.

“Then what the hell is it?”

“It’s more like around 2 tons of single jellyfish like thing about, oh, forty or so feet across,” I replied more than a little smugly.

“Fine, I’ll see if one of my officers is close by and have them swing by and take a look at it. But, Jake, I swear if you’re yanking my chain, so help me, I’ll…”

“Thanks, Sheriff,” I said, cutting him before he could finish his threat.

I hung up the phone, grabbed the nearest rag, and half-heartedly wiped spilled alcohol off the bar. I couldn’t get over how massive the thing was or the way it pulsed like it was breathing.

“Um…excuse me mister, but do you have any tanning lotion. I really need to even out these tan lines,” a bright red coed slurred at me.

“Would you like bronze, dark, or extra dark?”

“Extra dark would be great. Thanks. Hey, you know you’re kind of cute for an old guy. Do you want to buy me another drink?” she asked, already clutching a mixed drink in each hand.

“Thanks for notice, sweetheart, but you see that fine piece of ass over there is my wife and I always go home with her,” I said pointing at Claire who was currently bending over to scoop ice into some empty mugs.

“Look at you go,” the drunk girl said. “She’s a hottie.”

I smiled and handed over the extra dark tanning oil that she obviously didn’t need. She paid me and stumbled down to the end of the bar where the frat guys were shooting Jose. The jellyfish thing hadn’t moved, but a blonde that looked like she might have been tripping on molly was posing in front of it taking selfies for the Gram. She kept backing up closer to it. I couldn’t shake the feeling that was the wrong thing to do.

Just as my dread had reached its peak and the blonde was nearly touching it, an emergency broadcast interrupted the thump thump coming of the music. It chirped on everyone’s phone simultaneously effectively getting everyone’s attention at once. The semi electronic voice that announced the emergency on everyone’s phone at once was ominous in it’s in collective message.

“An unprecedented emergency is in effect for the entire U.S. coastline. Hundreds of unidentified sea creatures have been reported crawling out of the oceans. Whatever you do, do not approach these creatures. They are extremely dangerous,” warned the collective.

Everyone near the jellyfish thing backed away except the self-taking blonde. She was tripping balls and the molly was urging her to touch it. As soon as her hand contacted the slimy creature a tentacle whipped out from behind it piercing her straight through her chest and coiling around her like a constrictor. Streaks of red snaked out around her skin everywhere the tentacle made contact. She screamed in terror and pain until her throat was so raw no sound came out. She went mercifully slack with shock after what seemed like an eternity.

A tan muscled up dude ran toward her crashing through the crowd of wide-eyed onlookers. He was no more than six feet away when two more tentacles snaked out—one ensnaring his legs and the other coiling around his sternum. The jellyfish thing lifted the jock into the air. With no more effort than it would take me to tear a sheet of paper, it ripped the boy into pieces, spilling blood and entrails on the sand below.

The spring breakers that could sobered up instantly and ran away from the thing. The ones too far gone in their drunken or drugged stoopers were snatched up and tossed around like human confetti. Claire and I were rooted in place by fear and helplessness. At least its tentacles aren’t long enough to reach the tiki hut I remember thinking as I stood there staring too afraid to move.

Then it did something that spurred both Claire and I into action. It started to undulate, dragging its massive form across the beach in our direction. Claire snatched Whoopsie away from her latest castle—a princess dethroned. I bolted toward the rental booth yelling out the twins’ names, but my voice was swallowed amidst the screams of the fleeing breakers. I pushed my way through throngs of people determined to get to my kids.

When I finally got to them, I grabbed them each by a wrist and started dragging them toward our SUV. When we got there, I was relieved to see Whoopsie in her car seat and Claire behind the wheel.

“Get in the car,” she yelled.

The twins didn’t need to be told twice. Hell for once they didn’t even fight over who got to sit by the window. I risked a look back at the carnage we’d left behind only to find that things were about to get much worse. Hundreds more oversized ocean creatures were crawling out onto the beach. There were more like starfish, squid, crabs, octopi, and urchins. When I say like them, there was a semblance, but in every way they were more. They were all behemoths and now all of them were lit up with their own bioluminescent glows.

I jumped into the shotgun seat, and Claire slammed it into drive. She left twin tracks of rubber on the asphalt in our retreat. She blew through every stoplight in town and never left off the gas. When we had finally made the interstate, she finally spoke.

“What in the actual fu…,” she stammered. “What the hell was that?”

“I have no idea. Pissed off water spirits, maybe,” I guessed.

“That makes as much sense as anything else. Where are we supposed to go?”

“I think Kansas is about as far inland as we can get before, we start getting closer to another coast. How about Kansas?”

“Kansas it is…”