Fangtooth (17 page)

One of the creatures had Robinson’s arm
in its mouth. It shook its head from side to side, and Brad heard the
bone-sickening crunch as it chewed straight through Robinson’s arm.

Without the creature pulling against
him, Robinson fell back. Blood gushed from the stump of his arm, spraying the
air around him like a fire hose. At his side, Jim could only stand and stare.
Blood spurted over his face to cover it like a gory mask.

Robinson’s scream was the most
disturbing thing Brad had ever heard. Spurred into action by the sound, he
swung the axe around and buried it in the creature’s head, splitting it in two
like a ripe watermelon. The creature slumped to the deck, and globs of brain
matter poured through the split in its skull.

The creature writhed on the ground, its
talon tipped hands clenching in spasms, and Brad slammed the axe into its
chest, opening up a large cavity out of which gushed a snake of innards.

He placed a foot on the creature and
yanked the axe out, then he looked up and saw two of the creatures charging
towards him, jaws open wide and fangs hinged ready to bite.

Chapter 33

Zander reloaded his gun then stared at
the carnage and winced. This was all his fault. He saw Robinson flailing on the
deck, blood spurting from his severed arm. He saw Jim, standing frozen in
shock, blood dripping from his beard. He saw Brad, like a proud Viking warrior
hefting his trusty axe. And he saw the two creatures bearing down on him like
walking nightmares.

Brad flailed with the axe, swinging it
in wide arcs, trying to keep the creatures at bay.

“Jim you old sod, give us a hand,” Brad
roared.

But Jim stood transfixed, his eyes
glassy orbs in a bloodied face.

“Brad, hit the deck,” Zander screamed.

Brad glanced over his shoulder, mouthed
‘oh shit’, and dropped to the ground.

Zander swept the gun around in an arc,
spraying shot at the creatures, punching them back.

Once the coast was clear, Brad jumped to
his feet. “Cheers, skipper.”

Zander nodded, then saw movement as one
of the downed creatures scrambled to its feet. “Look out,” he shouted.

Brad spun around, slamming the blade of
the axe into its mouth, splintering its teeth like icicles. With the next blow,
he buried the axe in its shoulder and the creature dropped to the ground,
writhing in pain.

“Come on, grab it,” Zander said as he
bent and took hold of the creature’s legs. Brad dropped the axe and grabbed the
creature by the shoulders, then together they lifted and threw it overboard.
The sea appeared to boil as the other creatures started a feeding frenzy. In
the beam of the spotlights, the sea turned red. Zander leaned over the side and
watched. If they fed upon each other with such ease, what chance did humankind
have?

The creatures
clawed at the boat, scrambling up the net. He shivered.

They were relentless bastards.

Unable to look at them any longer, he
turned and hurried to Robinson’s side. As he approached, Muldoon shook his
head.

“He’s dead.”

The guilt weighed heavy on Zander’s
shoulders and he slumped under the pressure. “I’m going to drop the nets to
stop anymore climbing on board.”

Jim ran his hand across his face,
smearing Robinson’s blood, then he fired his pistol at an approaching creature.

Zander licked his lips. The skin felt
cracked and he could taste the saltwater. He knew the crew was going to blame
him for this, and he knew they were right. Stupid pride had possessed him to
come out here. He would never forgive himself.

He hurried back to the wheelhouse and
stared down at the carnage on deck. He pressed a button, sending the nets into
freefall.

But there were already too many
creatures on board. Seeing that his men were losing ground, he picked up the
microphone. “Fall back and barricade yourselves in. We’re heading home.”

He set a course back to Mulberry,
pushing the engines as fast as he could.

Chapter 34

Bruce held his hands up. “Duncan, what
are you doing?”

Duncan folded his arms across his chest.
“Lillian’s right. It’s an age old tradition to offer a sacrifice to the sea or
the land in return for a good harvest.”

Bruce couldn’t believe his ears. This
was pagan claptrap. “Duncan, there are monsters out there. You can’t be
serious.”

“Deadly.”

“Gran,” Jen said, “you saw those things.
This is crazy.”

“
She’s
crazy,” Jack said.

“Shut it kid,” Duncan said. “You
outsiders think you know it all. Well you don’t. If it wasn’t for us, this
village would have shrivelled up and died years ago.”

“My God,” Bruce said. “The people who
lived in the house before us. You killed them, didn’t you?”

Duncan shrugged. Shazam growled.

“I’d shut that dog up before I do it for
you,” Duncan snarled.

Bruce patted Shazam on the head.
“Shush,” he said.

Duncan was a large man, but Bruce
guessed he could tackle him. He chewed his lip, could feel his heart hammering
away, palms sweating. How had they ended up in this mess? And to think he
thought they were moving out of the city to escape trouble.

“Okay, that’s enough of the
pleasantries,” Lillian said, tapping the wooden club on the top of the bar.

“This is bullshit.” Rocky stood up and
faced Duncan. “You ain’t keeping me here.” He started walking towards the door.
When he reached Duncan, he stretched out a hand and touched Duncan’s arm to
move him aside.

For such a large man, Duncan reacted
fast. He punched Rocky in the stomach, forcing him to double up in pain. Rocky
retched, his hands clutched to his abdomen. “You piece of shit,” he wheezed.

“Rocky!” Sara said as she ran to him.

Duncan widened his stance, hands on
hips. “Look kid, this isn’t personal. You’ve got to realise it’s for the good
of the village.”

Erin stubbed her cigarette out. “So what
are you going to do, kill us all?”

Duncan ran a finger across his top lip
and looked at Lillian. Lillian gazed around the room. “It’s for the good of the
village.”

“
Gran
,” Jen squealed.

Lillian sighed. “Jenny, stop whining. I
sometimes wonder if you really are my granddaughter. You hear about people
being given the wrong baby in the hospital.”

“Gran, how could you? If mum and dad
find out about this—”

“And what makes you think they don’t
already know?”

Jen shook her head. “No. They wouldn’t.
You’re lying.”

Lillian shrugged.

“Well you won’t be able to take us all,”
Bruce said. “There’s only two of you.”

Lillian laughed–it sounded like a
cackle; made Bruce shiver. “And where are you going to go?” Lillian asked.

It was a simple question, but the way
she said it made Bruce hesitate. Was there something he didn’t know? How many
more villagers were in on this crazy idea? Were they waiting outside? It seemed
ridiculous, but after what he had seen tonight, he would believe anything was
possible.

Jen started crying. Jack put an arm
around her shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said.

“There’s a police officer outside. He’ll
be back in a minute,” Bruce said.

Lillian spat on the ground. “You think
we’re bothered about the law.”

Bruce knew he was going to have to do
something. But what? He fingered the lucky charms in his wallet. Make me lucky,
he thought before he ran at Duncan.

Not usually an impulsive man, Bruce took
both himself and Duncan by surprise. He rammed his shoulder into the
shopkeeper, driving him back into the door and making it clatter in its frame.
Before his opponent could recover, Bruce drove his fist into Duncan’s chin,
knocking the man’s head back.

The blow seemed to have little effect.
Duncan stood up straight and stroked his jaw. A slight grin curved the edges of
his lips. Bruce saw the shopkeeper bunch his fist, and just as he was about to
retaliate, Shazam bounded across the room and sank her teeth into his ankle.
Duncan squealed and hobbled around, trying to kick the dog away with his other
foot. Knowing it was now or never, Bruce grabbed Duncan around the neck, trying
to choke him. Despite his predicament, Duncan was strong and Bruce struggled to
maintain his hold. He linked his hands to strengthen his grip, but Duncan’s
neck felt like steel.

“Let me help,” Jack said.

Bruce nodded and allowed his son to grab
Duncan’s arm.

Although it looked like David versus
Goliath, with only a couple of deft Judo moves, Jack had Duncan on the floor
with his arm pinned behind his back squealing like a pig.

Bruce stood up straight and sighed with
relief. Then a wailing cry filled the air. He looked up just in time to see
Lillian charging towards them, holding the wooden club aloft.

Although she was an old woman, he didn’t
doubt being hit with the club would hurt–a lot–and he put his hands up to fend
off the attack when something flew across the room and he heard glasses
breaking and a rain of glass poured down. He shielded his eyes with the back of
his hand, and saw Erin and Jen bombarding Lillian with glasses from behind the
bar.

One of the glasses struck Lillian on the
head, knocking her aside. “You don’t understand,” she screamed. “We have to
offer a sacrifice.”

“You’re crazy.” Erin lobbed another
glass, fragments exploding and striking Bruce in the face.

“That’s why the creatures have come.
That’s why they’re here,” Lillian yelled. “You think this is the first time
they’ve been? They’ve been here before, but we’ve kept them satisfied.”

“They’re here because they’re hungry,”
Erin replied, “not because of you and your primitive beliefs.”

Lillian backed into the corner.

Bruce didn’t want to listen to anymore
nonsense, so he stepped over Duncan and Jack, unlocked the door, and said,
“Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Jen helped Rocky to his feet and they
made their way outside followed by Sara and then Erin, who looked at Bruce as
she passed and offered an encouraging smile.

When they were all out, Bruce tapped
Jack on the shoulder. “Okay, let him go. Come on, we’ll find Powell and let him
sort this out.”

Jack released Duncan and jumped to his
feet to follow Bruce outside. As he shut the door, Bruce heard Lillian scream
in anguish. The sound went through him. She was totally crazy. He wondered why
no one had ever noticed that she needed to be locked up.

He thought Jen of all people should have
noticed her relative’s behaviour, but then he remembered his own nana was as
fruity as a bowl of punch, and no one had bothered having her put away. But at
least she didn’t go around making pagan sacrifices.

He looked along the street, but Powell
was nowhere in sight. Where were the police when you needed them? If he were
speeding, no doubt an officer would appear out of the blue, but now when he
needed one, the blasted idiot had wandered off.

Getting angry wasn’t helping, but it
felt good to let off a little steam. “Powell,” he shouted.

“Dad, we’ve got to get out of here,”
Jack said.

Before Bruce could reply, Erin pointed.
“Isn’t that Zander’s boat?”

Bruce looked out to sea where the
running lights of the trawler reflected from the choppy waves. Bright
spotlights illuminated the water around the boat, making it appear ethereal,
like a ghost ship.

“She’s coming in fast,” Bruce said.

“Too fast,” Erin replied.

Bruce heard the roar of the boat’s engines
as the craft sped towards the harbour. In the glow of her lights, he noticed
ropes trailing in the water.

“Is that smoke?” Jack asked as he
pointed at the boat.

Bruce ran across the road, vaulted the
harbour wall and stared out to sea. Jack was right. A column of black smoke
drifted from the boat, and although not an expert, he noticed the craft
appeared to list sharply.

As the vessel drew closer, he was able
to make out more details, the skeletal framework of cranes and the bristly sea
urchin-like array of masts and aerials.

A shout issued from the boat, followed
by movement on the deck. Now close enough to see more clearly, he saw someone
or something had smashed the wheelhouse windows.

Erin stood behind the harbour wall.
“Jesus,” she said. “They’re in trouble.”

Rocky pointed. “They’re going to ram the
harbour.”

 “Shit,” Jack said.

A white froth
fanned out from the boat’s bow as it sped towards the harbour. “You’d better
stand clear,” Erin said.

Bruce didn’t move. He looked at the
boat, his eyes narrowed. There was someone hanging from the crane. At least it
used to be someone. Even from a distance, he could see the figure had been
severed at the waist. A grisly mass of entrails hung down like obscene rigging.
It looked as though something had eaten him while he tried to climb out of
reach.

“Bruce, stand clear,” Erin shouted.

Movement in the water caught his eye,
and he stood transfixed at the sight of hundreds of dark objects swimming
alongside the boat.

A shoal of Fangtooth. A pack of killer
creatures shepherding the boat to its destination.

This was bad. This was very bad.

The sound of the boat grew louder. Bruce
looked up, alarmed to see it looming upon him, a gigantic axe head of metal and
wood. He jumped aside, rolled, banged his shoulder against the harbour wall.
Pain shot through his body.

As the boat struck the harbour, it felt
like an earthquake – a horrendous noise of tortured metal and pulverized
concrete rang out. The ground underfoot shook violently. The light from the
lampposts flickered, throwing wild shadows around the harbour. Someone
screamed. Shards of concrete and metal started to rain down. Bruce shielded his
face. A lump of concrete struck the back of his hand, sending a jolt of pain
along his arm. He heard the boat creak and squeal as though in torment. He
peeked between his fingers, saw the boat’s bow sticking up in the air. A fallen
mast lay feet away. Water poured from the side of the boat. The intermittent
flash of sparks illuminated the boat’s wheelhouse. Shadows danced among the
sparks.

Concrete dust filled the air; hung like
a fog obscuring his vision. Bruce coughed and stood up. His legs shook, made
him feel unsteady. He took a tentative step towards the boat. The sound of
squealing metal rang out and the boat slipped back a couple of feet, making him
jump.

“Hello, can you hear me?” Bruce shouted.

Footsteps sounded behind him and he
turned to see Erin approaching. “Jesus,” she said as she surveyed the scene.

“Help me!”

Bruce heard the voice, but with the boat
standing proud, he couldn’t see anyone.

“Hello, where are you?” he shouted back.

“Help me!” the
speaker croaked.

Bruce studied the boat; saw a tangle of
ropes and chains hanging down.

“I’m going to have to climb aboard,” he
said.

Erin touched his hand gently. “Be careful.”

“I’ll come with you,” Jack said.

Bruce shook his head. “No, you’d better
stay here.”

He stepped towards the edge of the
harbour and looked down. For a moment, he felt dizzy and his heart thudded. The
water looked cold, dark and foreboding. Sudden movement disturbed the surface,
revealing the Fangtooth circling the wreckage. Some of them scratched at the
boat, trying to find a handhold. Bruce gulped. He tried to swallow but found he
couldn’t.

The front of the boat was crumpled and
dented, with jagged shards of metal jutting out at odd angles.

He grabbed hold of a hanging chain. It
felt cold and wet within his grasp. Then with the help of the sharp metal
protrusions created by the blow with the harbour, he started to climb.

Heights always made him a little
apprehensive, but climbing up the side of a damaged boat, above Fangtooth
infested waters, well, that was just plain crazy, and his sweaty palms, shaking
legs, thrumming heart and spinning head told him so. But someone needed help,
and he couldn’t stand by and do nothing, so he climbed, hand over hand, foot
over foot, one torturous, slow step at a time.

“Now do you see why we have to make the
sacrifice?”

Bruce twisted his head at the sound of
Lillian’s voice. She stood at the edge of the harbour, a vitriolic glare
plastered across her face. Blood dribbled from a cut on her forehead. In the
light from the lampposts, it looked like an exclamation mark. Duncan stood
behind her. He rubbed his wrist as though to relieve it from pain, his gaze
fixed firmly on Jack. Since leaving the bar, he had armed himself with a wicked
looking spiked hook.

“Do you want some more?” Jack asked,
bobbing his head.

“
Jack
,” Bruce shouted, hoping the
inflection in his voice was enough to cool his son’s bravado. They had enough
trouble without creating more.

“Yeah,” Rocky said, squaring up to
Duncan, “you ain’t gonna sucker punch me and get away with it.”

Bruce bit his lip. This was turning into
a testosterone showdown, and here he was, stuck up the side of a boat.

“Everyone calm
down,” Erin said. She waved her arms in the air and stepped between the warring
factions. “We’ve got injured people to help here. We don’t need this right
now.”

Bruce readjusted his grip. He felt
relieved that Erin was taking control and trying to calm the situation. His
feelings for her went up another notch. Growing tired hanging onto the boat, he
continued climbing and clambered over the side and onto the sloping deck.

Holding onto the front of the boat to
stop himself falling towards the wheelhouse, he looked back down at the
harbour, his eyes opening wide when he saw Lillian raise the club. His heart
stopped.

“Look out,” he screamed, but he was too
late. Lillian swung the club, hitting Erin on the head. Even from a distance,
Bruce heard the sharp crack of wood on bone. Caught unawares, Erin’s head
snapped to the side and she staggered back. Bruce cringed.