Fangtooth (23 page)

After a moment, Zander stopped
struggling and settled back in the armchair.

He looked through his one good eye; saw
Jim stabbing the beast that had charged towards him. Beyond Jim he saw the
villagers, people he had known all his life. People he had grown up with.
People he knew would blame him for the deaths of their loved ones on board
Storm
Bringer
. He glanced at the furniture around him. Knew that for it to catch
light it needed a source of flame.

Despite the torturous heat, he felt
oddly at peace. He closed his eye as best he could and gritted his teeth
against the searing pain.

It would never bring his crew back, but
he hoped that his sacrifice would be his salvation. That through his death,
others may live.

Chapter 44

Bruce stared across the road, shocked to
see Zander engulfed by flames. He considered running across to help him, but he
could tell that he was too far gone, his skin already charring. Strangely
Zander didn’t struggle; actually seemed to accept his fate.

He didn’t understand what an armchair
and a small cabinet were doing in the road in the first place, never mind what
Zander was doing with them. The flames from Zander’s body ignited the armchair,
and a yellow and orange conflagration danced above the furniture. Behind the
fire, Bruce could see Jim battling with a Fangtooth.

“Jesus Christ. Did you see that?” Bruce
said.

Erin nodded, her face pale. “Here comes
another Fangtooth,” she said, pointing her knife in the creature’s direction.

“There are too many of them,” Jack said.

Bruce gulped. He didn’t know how much
longer they could hold out. He glanced at the car, contemplated running towards
it, then looked back at Zander and the burning furniture.

He put a hand to his forehead as the
realisation struck. “Jesus. He’s using the furniture as a shield to keep the
creatures away. Come on, we’ve got to head towards the fire.”

Bruce bent down and carefully lifted
Shazam. The dog’s head lolled over his arm and he carried her across the road.
The heat from the flames washed over Bruce as he drew near and he went as close
as he could. The heat prickled his face; made the hairs on his arms tingle as
he laid Shazam as close as he dared. The rest of the group joined him, standing
around the fire. It was hard to look at Zander. The flesh on his body had
blistered and popped, and his eyeballs had literally exploded in their sockets.
The smell of burning flesh permeated the air. The aroma made Bruce gag.

The sound of breaking glass rang out.
“Here, put this on the fire.”

Bruce looked up to see Brad hanging out
of the bedroom window of the house across the road. Next minute he disappeared
and when he returned, he squeezed a mattress through the gap, letting it fall
to the road. Next he threw out clothes and books.

“Come on, help me carry them,” Bruce
said.

He ran across the road, and Jack helped
him carry the mattress back to the fire. They tossed it into the flames,
dislodging Zander’s now blackened corpse and causing the burnt skin to flake
from his body. Sparks flew into the air, twinkling like stars as they sailed
into the night sky.

The other teenagers gathered the clothes
and books and threw them into the fire. Bruce couldn’t help but be reminded of
Fahrenheit 451 as he watched the books burn.

Windows and doors started to open along
the seafront and terrified people peeked out.

“The fire keeps them away,” Bruce
shouted as he threw a pair of trousers into the inferno. “You’ll be safe here.
Gather anything you can that will burn, and bring it with you.”

Moments later, items started dropping
from windows. More books. Newspapers. Bookcases. Cushions. Plastic bowls.
Anything that would burn poured down in a rain of bric-a-brac.

People started running from their
houses, trailing clothes and blankets in their mad dash to reach the safety of
the fire.

A number of Fangtooth hovered on the
periphery, kept back by the flames. They scurried around, snapping at each
other in their fury and hunger.

As the fire grew bigger, Bruce moved
Shazam further from the heat. The dog’s chest rose and fell at a steady pace.

Flashing lights appeared at the end of
the road, and Bruce looked up to see a police car arrive. The man and woman in
the car stared at the scene with their mouths open, as though unable to believe
their eyes.

During the night, they raided every
house, threw every available piece of furniture onto the bonfire, and then sat
out the night in a huddle, sitting close to the flames. The searing heat turned
people’s skin a rosy red colour. Those who were armed took pot-shots at any
creatures that braved the flames and came too close.

Soon after sun up, the first army convoy
arrived, followed by a fleet of ambulances. Bruce watched the soldiers disperse
throughout the village, and the sound of automatic gunfire rang out.

Erin had her head on Bruce’s lap, where
she had lain for most of the night. He stroked her hair and stared at the faces
of those huddled around the fire. Despite the rosy skin, their faces reflected
the horror they had endured. Their haunted eyes gave them a vacant, lost
expression. Even though they hadn’t seen a Fangtooth for a while, none of them
seemed in any hurry to leave the protective circle of the fire.

Helicopters buzzed overhead, and the odd
jet plane screamed across the sky.

“I don’t suppose the army ever imagined
their enemy would originate from the sea,” Erin said as she turned to face
Bruce.

“I don’t think I did either.”

“Dad, me and Jen are going to check if
her parents are okay,” Jack said. “She’s looked around the fire for them, but
they aren’t here.”

“Well, you’re not going on your own.
I’ll come with you.”

“And me,” Erin said.

Jen nodded. “I’m sorry about my gran. If
I had known …” She wiped tears from her eyes.

Bruce put his hand on her shoulder.
“You’re not responsible for what she did.”

“Yeah, but—”

“There are no buts. Right, come on,
we’ll take the car.” Bruce crouched down and picked up Shazam. He carried the
dog to the car and placed her on the backseat between Jack and Jen. Then he
jumped in the driving seat, Erin beside him. He glanced at the lucky horseshoe
pendant hanging from the rear-view mirror and stroked it between his fingers
before starting the engine and driving through the streets.

Houses along the way bore the brunt of
the carnage, and with the gruesome bodies littering the road, the once quaint
seaside village now resembled a war torn domain from the bowels of hell.

Trigger-happy soldiers fired at any
straggling Fangtooth. “Do you think that will be the end of it?” Bruce asked
Erin.

“I would like to think so, but the sea’s
a big place. Who knows how many of them are out there.”

A horn sounded out at sea, and Bruce
turned to see a destroyer sailing past the harbour.

Jen gave directions from the backseat,
and when they reached her house, the door stood ajar.

“I’d better go
first,” Bruce said as he exited the vehicle. He walked up to the door and
carefully pushed it open, shocked to see someone he assumed was Jen’s dad
hanging from a noose tied to the stair banister. Her mother lay slumped at the
foot of the stairs, her neck broken.

He tried to close
the door on the scene, but Jen had already seen. She screamed and ran into the
house where she collapsed onto the ground, her head in her hands. Jack ran in
and tried to comfort her.

Bruce recalled
something Lillian had said, a hint that her parents already knew about the
sacrifices. He didn’t know whether that was true, would probably never know.
They might have taken their own lives rather than face the Fangtooth. It
certainly seemed an easier option than being eaten alive.

“Jen, you can’t
stay here,” Bruce said. “Jack, come on, bring her out.”

Jack looked up at
his dad and nodded. “Jen. Jen, come on. There’s nothing you can do for them.
We’ve got to go.”

“I can’t just
leave them here like this,” she said between sniffles.

Jack looked back
at his dad, his expression torn between confusion and concern.

“Jack, give me a hand,” Bruce said as he
entered the hallway.

With his son’s help, he cut Jen’s dad
down, then they carried the two bodies into the living room where they laid
them down and covered them with blankets.

“That’s all we can do for now,” Bruce
said.

“Thank you,” Jen sobbed.

Bruce nodded. “We’d better go now. It’s
not safe here.”

Once back in the car, they made their
way back towards the harbour. Once they reached the seafront, Bruce spotted
Brad and Jim.

Bruce lowered the window. “Hey,” he
called. Brad waved and ran across the road.

“Glad to see you both made it,” Bruce
said.

Brad looked back at Jim. “That remains
to be seen. This has affected him badly.”

“How about you?”

“I’ll manage. Probably have to get a job
with my brother now that the boat’s wrecked, but at least I came through in one
piece, which is more than can be said for some people.” He indicated the couple
across the road stepping into an ambulance, who Bruce recognised as Albert and
Doris.

“Did you see what happened to Zander?”
Bruce asked.

Brad nodded. “However you look at it,
the Skipper went down with his boat.” He shook his head and sighed. “So what
are you going to do now?”

Bruce glanced at Jen in the rear-view
mirror and then looked at Erin.

“We’re getting the hell out of here. If
you and Jen want to come, you’re welcome.”

Erin stared out to sea, her expression
unreadable. “I love the sea,” she said. “But then I never had anything else in
my life worth a damn.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Wherever you go, I’ll come
too.”

Bruce grinned and squeezed her hand.
“Jen, what about you?”

She wiped tears from her eyes and
coughed to clear her throat. “There’s nothing left here for me now.”

“Jack, that okay with you?”

Jack looked at Jen and Erin and smiled.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Bruce turned. “You take care, Brad.”

Brad nodded. “You too.”

Bruce looked across at the fire where
Rocky stood with his arm around Sara. He waved. Bruce and Jack waved back.

“Is there anything anyone wants to
take?” Bruce asked.

“I just want to get away,” Jen said.

Bruce knew how she felt. He put the car in
gear and made to drive off when Jack said, “Hold on. There’s something I’ve got
to do.”

Bruce looked in the rear-view mirror and
frowned. Without offering any explanation, Jack jumped out of the car and ran
across to the bar. He reappeared a few minutes later with Graham’s cat in his
arms.

“Don’t know what Shazam will think, but
I couldn’t leave it behind,” he said when he reached the car.

Bruce smiled. “Come on, get in.”

Jack clambered in and Shazam sniffed at
the cat, then licked it on the head. The cat ran its paw over where the dog had
licked as though disgusted.

Bruce laughed to himself. They had
arrived in the village as a widowed father, an errant teenager and a dog. Now
as he threaded his way along the street, careful to avoid the bodies, they were
a family.

Outside the village, Bruce stopped the
car and turned to stare at the sea. He watched the destroyer sail towards the
horizon, and heard the muffled thump of the depth charges she cast into the
ocean.

The wedding ring on his finger glinted
in the pale morning light. Bruce twisted it off to reveal a white band on his
finger that would fade in time. He put the ring in his pocket.

Erin put her hand on top of his and
squeezed

He noticed his son
staring at him in the rear-view mirror. “Forget Tenerife, remember Mulberry,”
Jack said.

Bruce stared at
the sea–a shroud for the denizens of the deep; then he focused on the road
ahead and started driving. “Let’s go home.”

About the author:

Shaun Jeffrey was brought up in a
house in a cemetery, so it was only natural for his prose to stray towards the
dark side when he started writing. He has had five novels published, 'The
Kult', ‘Killers’, 'Deadfall', ‘Fangtooth’ and 'Evilution', and two collections
of short stories, 'Voyeurs of Death' and ‘The Mutilation Machination’. Among
his other writing credits are short stories published in Cemetery Dance,
Surreal Magazine, Dark Discoveries and Shadowed Realms. The Kult was optioned
for film by Gharial Productions and is awaiting release.

Visit the author's site at:
 
http://www.shaunjeffrey.com