Zander raised his weapon and pulled the stock into his shoulder. He tensed his finger on the trigger and aimed, but couldn’t get a clear shot as McKenzie kept bobbing in his way.
“Get down,” Zander roared.
McKenzie dropped to the deck and Zander pulled the trigger, peppering the creature’s chest with lead shot.
As McKenzie stood up, he grasped his arm, wincing. Blood rained from his injury, splashing the deck with lurid patterns
“Take that, you son of a bitch,” Robinson shouted as he lashed out with a gaff hook.
Zander fired at a couple of creatures scrambling over the net, punching them back into the water. But behind those came more. Lots more and he couldn’t reload fast enough to keep up.
One of the creatures lurched forwards. McKenzie slashed at it with the knife, but the creature ducked underneath the attack and sank its teeth into his stomach. McKenzie screamed, the sound reaching an ear-splitting crescendo as it tore its head back, ripping out a chunk of flesh. Loops of purple intestine and viscera slopped out onto the deck. McKenzie staggered for a moment, then collapsed in a heap.
Oblivious to Zander, the creature dropped down onto all fours and started chewing on the wound it had inflicted. Zander opened fire, lead shot tearing through the creature’s body.
McKenzie scrabbled around on deck, trying desperately to push his intestines back into his stomach. “Help me,” he whined.
Zander gritted his teeth. McKenzie was beyond saving. He levelled the barrel at McKenzie’s head, finger tensed on the trigger. Despite his hatred of the man, he had never killed anyone before, and even though it would be a mercy killing, he couldn’t do it. He exhaled and lowered the weapon. Shook his head.
McKenzie scrunched his face up in pain. “Please,” he said.
Before Zander could reply, Jim ran past and rammed his knife into McKenzie’s chest.
“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” Jim said.
The boat listed, throwing Brad across the room. He picked himself up, heard the ear-piercing scream over the sound of the engines and he vaulted across the machinery, donned his oilskins and headed up towards the deck. What was going on up there?
The first thing he saw when he stepped out onto the deck was Zander firing from the hip. Then on the deck he saw McKenzie’s eviscerated body, next to which lay a dead creature, its body slick with blood and seawater.
The rest of the crew was back peddling against the tide of creatures surging up the net.
Brad sprinted across the deck and grabbed the fire axe from the side of the wheelhouse.
Movement to his left caught his eye and he raised the axe, prepared to deliver a deathblow when a voice shouted, “Stop. It’s me.”
Brad focused his gaze and stared at Robinson. He shook his head. “I fucking nearly killed you, you idiot.”
Jim appeared behind Robinson. “Might have knocked some sense into him at least.”
Robinson whirled on Jim. “Now’s not the time for your sarcastic comments.”
“Might not get another chance,” Jim cackled. His expression changed. “Behind you,” he screeched.
Brad turned and glared at the creature making its way towards them across the deck. It walked on all fours until it was about seven feet away, then it raised itself up to stand on its rear legs in an almost humanlike way. It opened its mouth impossibly wide, revealing long, sharp fangs. Brad could see down its ribbed throat – it was like staring into the bowels of hell, the teeth the gates to Hades.
“Come on you mother,” he said between clenched teeth. “If you wanna piece of me, come and get it.”
The creature scurried forwards, head thrust out, mouth open ready to bite.
Brad heard a scream, thought it might have been Robinson but couldn’t be sure. Well, nothing on this earth was going to make him scream like a baby. Not when he could make it scream first.
With expert timing, he swung the axe up and around with all his strength. The sharp blade struck the creature on what purported to be its neck. Brad clenched his teeth against the bone jarring pain that shot along his arm, but he didn’t stop following through. The creature didn’t even have time to blink as the axe severed its head clean off. The headless creature still moved forwards at an alarming speed, and Brad stepped quickly aside. A geyser of blood gushed out of its neck, spraying the deck with gore as it sailed by. Brad felt a sense of power, and he was about to whoop with joy when he heard another scream. What was it with Robinson? Brad never thought of him as a big crybaby before. He turned, about to tell Robinson to can it, but the words died in his throat.
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 t
o 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,” Bruc
e 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.
Fangtooth Page 17