“That man on holiday, he was attacked in the day,” Bruce said.
Erin nodded. “That’s what concerns me. If they have mutated, it’s not just in the physical sense, but in the—”
“I’m not going to listen to any more of this rubbish,” Graham said.
“Just shut up,” Duncan snapped.
Graham turned his one good eye on Duncan and scowled. “This is my bar, and I’ll say what the hell I like. I’ll certainly not have these outsiders come in here telling fanciful tales. It’s hard enough getting customers in as it is. Since the fishing fleets have been disbanded, I hardly get anyone in. I never thought I’d miss those trawler men with all that cash to throw around after being paid, but I do. So I’ll be damned if I’ll lose what little livelihood I’ve got left.
“Officer, are you going to stand there and let them carry on this ridiculous conversation?” Graham asked. “Can’t you do something before I throw the lot of them out?”
“And what would you have me do, sir? Arrest them?”
“That would be a start.”
“On what grounds? Storytelling?”
“Ah, so at least you agree it’s only a story.” Graham grinned, an expression his one eye made appear sinister.
“I really don’t know what to believe, but I’ll call through to have someone check the coast out.”
Graham rolled his eye and clucked loudly. “They’ll have you believing in little green men next. I don’t know what the world’s coming to when a man of the law can be made a fool of.”
Powell walked to the corner of the room and started talking into his walkie-talkie. Bruce went and sat next to Erin.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Erin forced a smile. “I’m glad your son’s safe.”
Bruce couldn’t help wondering for how long, though, if what Erin had said was true. “So am I. But these creatures, are they really coming ashore to eat?”
“That would be my guess, yes.”
Bruce looked at the clock above the bar, which read 9:30. He had never been truly afraid before, had not known what real fear was, until he had seen Jack being terrorized by the creature. The feeling hadn’t subsided. He needed to rescue his son, needed to wrap his arms around him and hold him tight.
Powell returned to the middle of the room. “Okay, the coast guard is going to send a patrol boat to check the area out.”
“You’d be better sending the navy,” Zander said as he stormed into the bar. “They have fuckin’ big guns.”
Jack walked in behind Zander, followed by Jen and another young lad with a cut on his forehead.
“Jack!” Bruce jumped up, ran across the room and embraced his son. Shazam jumped to her feet and bounded across the room, barking excitedly.
Jack returned the hug, and then said, “Okay, there’s no need to suffocate me.”
Bruce could see he was embarrassing Jack, but he didn’t care. He was just glad that he was safe.
“I take it this is your son,” the officer said.
Too choked to reply, Bruce nodded and squeezed his son harder.
“Daaaad,” Jack wheezed.
Eventually, Bruce relaxed his hold. “I thought I was going to lose you,” he said, his voice raw with emotion.
Jack stroked the dog’s head. “You can’t get rid of me that easy.”
“And you are?” Powell asked Zander.
“Trent Zander, skipper of the Storm Bringer. Graham, pour us a double whisky.” He stomped to the bar and leaned against the counter.
“Well, I’m going to have to ask you a few questions.”
“I’ve only come to drop these kids off, so I haven’t got time.”
“Then you’ll make time. I need to know what’s going on. So either we do it here, or I take you down to the station.”
Zander laughed. “It’ll take more than one of you to stop me from leaving, and for your own good, I’d advise against trying.”
Powell looked rankled, as though unfamiliar with disobedience. “Mr. Zander, that wasn’t a request, it was an order.”
“There’s not a man alive who can order me to do anything,” Zander said. He accepted the whisky as Graham handed it to him, and downed it.
“I need to know what’s happening.”
“I’ll tell you what’s happening. There’s a fucking great shoal of killer fish out there, and by God, I’m going fishing.”
Before Powell could stop him, Zander stood up straight, nodded at Jack, then ran out of the bar.
Chapter 30
On the way to his boat, Zander took out his phone and called his crew. He didn’t tell them what it was about, just asked them to meet him at the boat, and to come armed. There was no way he was going to let them sail with him unless they knew the truth, but he couldn’t explain over the phone.
The fog had all but dissipated, but the clouds made the darkness seem absolute. The globe shaped harbour lights provided the only illumination, their radiance broken up into fractal patterns on the water’s surface. The wind made the wooden shutters on Zander’s outbuilding clatter and the waves drove Storm Bringer repeatedly up against the dock, making her antennas, masts and winches jangle and clank.
He had left the engine running, leaving Brad down below to make sure everything ticked over. Once on board, he skipped down to the galley and made a pot of black coffee, a cup of which he took back up to the wheelhouse while he waited.
The first to arrive was the first mate, Muldoon, his brown hair sticking up all over the place and his chubby cheeks flushed. He jumped aboard and scurried up to where Zander sat waiting.
“You do realise I was just about to get down and dirty with Jill,” Muldoon said as he dropped his duffel bag. “So you’d better have a good reason calling me out here in the middle of the goddamn night.”
“Let’s wait for everyone to arrive. I don’t want to keep repeating myself. There’s a brew on down below,” Zander said. He ignored Muldoon’s inquisitive glare and sipped the coffee, which was hotter than lava and just as thick.
A couple of minutes later, Jim arrived. He clambered aboard and stepped into the wheelhouse, muttering something about the weather. He had a habit of talking by hardly moving his lips, an act made worse by his facial hair.
“So what’s the problem?” Jim mumbled.
Zander nodded. “Get yourself a coffee, and I’ll explain.”
Jim scratched his beard and scuttled away, muttering to himself.
About to take another gulp of coffee, Zander saw a car’s headlights sweep into the harbour. He instantly recognised McKenzie’s black BMW and he cursed under his breath. The drug dealer was the last thing he needed.
He watched as the car stopped, its engine cut out and its headlights extinguished. Next minute, McKenzie stepped out of the vehicle. A cigarette drooped from the corner of his mouth and he thrust his hands into the pockets of his black jacket. He walked towards Zander’s boat, shoulders hunched and barrel chest thrust out.
When he reached the side of the boat, McKenzie motioned with his head that Zander should come down.
He really didn’t need this shit, but he stood up and exited the wheelhouse to stand on deck with his foot on the railing.
“You’re early,” Zander said.
McKenzie spoke without removing his cigarette, “Don’t fuck with me. Where’s my stuff?”
“Slight problem,” Zander replied.
“Problems are for Dear Abby. Do I look like fuckin’ Dear Abby?”
This wasn’t going to go down well, but Zander wasn’t about to start lying. “You’d better come aboard. We’re about to set sail, and if you come with us, then you’ll see what the problem is.”
“Do I look like I’ve come to go fishin’? You’re wastin’ my time. You know what happened to the last man who wasted my time? I took him fishin’, fishin’ without a fuckin’ rod and with him as the bait, you know what I mean?”
“I understand. But you aren’t going to believe me if I tell you, so
you’d better come and see for yourself.”
McKenzie exhaled a cloud of smoke. “You fuck with me and I’ll introduce you to a world of pain you didn’t know existed, you get me?”
Zander nodded. “Yeah, but just keep our business deal between us. Now come aboard and I’ll show you what’s happened.” He hated kowtowing to this city punk, a man who was only a go-between, but he knew that if he didn’t pacify him, then those who swam in the higher echelons would rain down with fire and brimstone. He really had gotten himself in too deep, and no amount of regret would help. Now that he’d had time to think about it, he knew that young lad, Jack, hadn’t stolen his drugs. No, it was the creatures. Perhaps intrigued by the contents of the pot, they had torn it open. Now all he could do was show McKenzie what had happened–show him what was lurking in the ocean.
McKenzie narrowed his eyes and looked the boat up and down. “You sure that old tub’s not going to sink?”
“Not while I’m at the helm it’s not.”
Looking less than convinced, McKenzie stepped warily aboard just as Muldoon stepped out of the wheelhouse and clambered down onto the deck. He looked at McKenzie with a challenging expression.
“You got a fuckin’ problem,” McKenzie snarled.
Zander saw Muldoon bunch his fist. “Hey, Muldoon, it’s okay, he’s with me.” He knew Muldoon could handle himself, had fought beside him, but the likes of McKenzie were a different kettle of fish. People like McKenzie didn’t just swim with sharks, they were the sharks. Suburban predators.
Muldoon gave Zander a look that said, ‘you’d better have a good reason for not letting me hit this piece of shit’, and then he skulked away to the stern to busy himself with preparing the boat.
Zander led the way to the wheelhouse, and when Jim reappeared, McKenzie had seated himself in a chair at the back of the room. Jim hardly glanced at him. The same couldn’t be said of McKenzie.
“You sure these men know how to sail this piece of shit?” he said, looking Jim up and down with disdain.
Zander saw Jim bristle and mumble something under his beard, which McKenzie thankfully didn’t notice or hear. He was taking a big enough risk allowing McKenzie on board–apart from Brad, his crew didn’t know about his sideline–but it was a chance he had to take. Now if only he could get the jerk to shut his trap.
Next aboard came Robinson, looking as though he had jumped straight out of bed as he rubbed his knuckles into his eyes, his blond hair uncombed.
Brad climbed up from the engine room, wiping his oil covered hands on a piece of dirty rag.
Brad smiled broadly, displaying a couple of missing teeth between his large lips. “Jim,” he boomed, slapping him on the back.
Just then, Muldoon entered the wheelhouse. Saltwater dripped from his oilskins and he shook himself and nodded a greeting at Robinson and Brad.
“Good weather for it,” Muldoon said.
Brad stared at McKenzie as though he were someone he had caught breaking into his house.
Zander looked at each of his crew in turn. “Okay, I’ll not lie to you because we’ve been through a lot, but tonight, Brad and me, we saw something I’ve never seen before.”
“A bit of pussy. Good for you,” Muldoon said, laughing loudly. Everyone apart from McKenzie joined in.
Zander waited for the laughter to subside, fanning his hands to quieten the men down. “If only I was that lucky.”
“Don’t tell me, she were a large one,” Muldoon said, shaking his head in amusement. “No trouble, I’ve had a few, but you’ll get over it, hey boys. As long as there’s grass on the playing field.” He winked.
Zander exhaled loudly. “Listen, this is important. Tonight Brad and me, we saw something in the sea.”
Brad wrung his hands, his face pale. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
McKenzie snorted loudly. “Are you going to get to the point? I’m a busy man, places to go, people to talk to, you know what I mean.” He winked at Zander in a way that hinted at malice.
Unperturbed, Zander continued. “Well it was a fish, but not like any fish we’ve seen before.”
“Come on,” Muldoon said, “we’ve seen all kinds of fish.”
“Not like these you haven’t. You remember the other day, when the nets were torn, well not torn, fuckin’ shredded—”
“What about it?” Jim mumbled.
“I think this creature did it. Now I don’t know what it is or where it’s come from; could even have escaped from a secret laboratory for all I know, but I’m telling you, this thing was at least four feet long, and it had arms and legs and the biggest damn teeth you ever saw.”
McKenzie rolled his eyes. “What the fuck! You think I’ve got time to sit here and listen to this shit?”
Muldoon glared at him. “I’ve sailed with Trent Zander for more years than you’ve had baths, and if he says there’s something in the water he’s never seen before, I believe him.”
“Then you’re as cracked as he is. You sure you haven’t been smoking the merchandise, Zander?” McKenzie asked.
Zander felt like grabbing him by the throat and strangling the life out of him. He looked at his crew. Faced with McKenzie’s accusation, which virtually told the whole story, he didn’t know what to say, and for the first time in his life, he was rendered speechless.
Fortunately, Brad spoke up. “Aye man, you don’t think they didn’t know what we were up to? Give the boys credit. We sail out all by ourselves in the dead of night. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s anyone in the village who doesn’t know what we were up to. Not that everyone agrees with it, but a man has to make a living, and the boys knew you were using drug money to pay their wages. In my book, that went above and beyond.”
Robinson nodded, and Jim chortled behind his beard.
Zander smirked. How did he think he could ever lead a secret life in a village where there were no secrets? A village where everyone knew everyone, a village as tight knit as Mulberry.
“Well if you’ve all stopped licking each other’s asses, perhaps you can tell me where my fuckin’ drugs are,” McKenzie said.
Zander rubbed his neck. “They’re gone. The lobster pots were smashed and the drugs were gone.”
McKenzie jumped to his feet. “You’d better be fuckin’ jokin’.”
Zander shook his head. “I wish I was.”
“So who’s got the drugs?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. No one’s got ’em. I think these sea creatures were inquisitive and they smashed the pots to see what was inside.”
“Bullshit. You’re yanking my fuckin’ chain. Fuckin’ sea monsters.”
Brad puffed his chest out. “You want to make something of it?”
Before anyone could react, McKenzie pulled a knife out of his jacket pocket and thrust it towards Brad’s stomach.
Despite his size, Brad was quick on his feet. He easily dodged the blade and grabbed McKenzie’s wrist. Next minute, Robinson and Jim pulled knives from their waistbands.
“Little boys shouldn’t play with knives. You might get cut,” Brad said, prizing the blade from McKenzie’s fingers.
“You’re going to regret that,” McKenzie snarled. “Don’t you fuckin’ inbreeds know who I am?”
“Stop, you’ll have me quaking in me boots,” Brad replied.
“Let him go,” Zander said. “I’ll not have any fighting on board my boat.”
Brad passed Zander the knife, and Robinson and Jim put their weapons away. The drug dealer straightened out his jacket and ran a hand through his short hair.
“When Monty hears about this, you lot will be fuckin’ dog meat,” he growled.
Monty was the big cheese, the head honcho, and Zander knew McKenzie wasn’t making idle threats. These people wouldn’t mess around. They had lost a consignment of drugs worth a lot of money, and someone was going to have to pay. The only chance he had now at redeeming himself, and the lives of his crew, was to show McKenzie what lay beneath the waves
.
“Okay men, I won’t force any of you to come as this is going to be dangerous, but I’m guessing these creatures are the reason we’ve not caught any fish lately. I’m also guessing they had something to do with the sinking of the Silver Queen, and that’s why I’m going to kill every last one of them. Now’s your last chance to leave, because the tide’s in, and I’m about to set sail.”
McKenzie grimaced. “If you think I’m—”
“Shut your trap, McKenzie. You’re coming whether you like it or not,” Zander said. “I’m going to prove to you that no one stole your fucking drugs, and that there is something out there.” To his relief, McKenzie didn’t argue. He was not stupid enough to think he could take on five men.
Robinson nodded his head. “I’m in,” he said. Brad agreed, as did Jim.
“Oh damn it, count me in too,” Muldoon said.
Jim started towards the door, then stopped and turned back. “How do you expect to catch or kill these creatures? They chewed through the net last time.”
Zander stared out to sea. “From what I’ve seen, these creatures want to come aboard to feed. So that’s what I’m going to let them do. We’re going to use ourselves as bait. And then we’re going to kill the bastards.”
Chapter 31
The atmosphere in the bar was chilly to say the least. Since Zander had stormed out, Powell had been talking to someone on his walkie-talkie. Jack sat at one of the tables, talking to Sara and Jen. The other lad, Rocky, sat in a corner, glaring at Jen and Jack. Duncan sat nursing a brandy. Graham sat behind the bar, from where he eyed everyone as though they were interlopers from another dimension. Erin stood by the bar smoking a cigarette, and Shazam sat at Bruce’s feet, her head cocked as though she was trying to take it all in.
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