by Derek Gunn
Two crewmen immediately jumped in front of their captain and the creature batted them aside indifferently. One of the men fell awkwardly and Butler heard a loud snap as the man hit the taffrail and fell limply to the deck. The other sailed out over the rail and fell into the water below, where he flailed helplessly before the water pulled him down. Butler roared with anger and threw himself forward.
The creature smiled and swept its hands to brush him aside with supreme confidence. Butler, however, had timed his move with a cold cunning and stopped short of his apparent anger-fuelled attack. The creature’s arm swung past him, raking the air, and then Butler thrust forward again with his sword held tightly outwards. The sword sank easily into the creature’s chest and Butler continued to push forward and buried the weapon up to its hilt in the creature.
The thing howled in pain and swiped at Butler again, this time catching the captain off balance and sending him flying back against the door to the officer’s quarters. He watched the creature glare at him as it reached forward and gripped his sword in one hand. The creature’s nails had grown long and sharp and it had trouble gripping the handle at first but finally found purchase on the slick handle and pulled the blade from its chest.
It howled again and then threw the sword away and advanced on the helpless captain. Butler was dimly aware of shouts and gunfire in the distance but his attention was riveted on the creature. Suddenly it staggered as Purcell’s marines let loose a fusillade of bullets, each one finding its mark. Flesh and bone were torn and shattered with each impact. But still the creature advanced.
Butler groped for a weapon but there was nothing within reach. He moved back further against the door and felt a weight in his uniform pocket. He snatched at the weight and pulled free the chunk of silver he had taken from the tunnel. The creature was already on him and it grabbed him by the neck and lifted him off his feet. The hand around his neck was like a vice and his lungs screamed for air.
He looked down at the face of the creature and saw the triumph in its eyes. He thought of the shallow grave and the mutilated bodies of the children they had found, and anger and disgust boiled within him. His head swam and his limbs grew heavy as the air was starved from his lungs. He gripped the chunk of silver with the last of his strength and slammed it into the creature’s face.
The result was immediate and shocking. Butler felt the grip on his throat disappear and he sprawled to the ground sucking air in to his starved lungs. The creature fell to the deck and rolled in agony with both its hands clasped to its face. Butler staggered to his feet and then fell again to his knees as dizziness overwhelmed him. The creature ignored him as he rolled over the deck, lost in its own agony, and Butler took a moment to settle himself. Once his head stopped spinning Butler grabbed the creature’s shoulder and pulled its arm away as he brought the silver down again and again.
It was Captain Purcell and his men who finally restrained him and brought him back to reality. He paled as he looked down at the damage he had caused as he allowed himself to be helped to his feet. The creature was dead, its head and shoulders pulped beyond recognition and the remaining flesh still smoking with the heavy stink of burnt flesh.
My God, Butler thought as he raised the blood-soaked chunk of silver in his hand, it must be vulnerable to silver.
He stooped to retrieve his sword and rubbed the edge of the blade along the silver vigorously. The men watched him with puzzled expressions but Butler ignored them. Finally satisfied, he thrust the chunk into Purcell’s hands. ‘Quick,’ he shouted to be heard over the cacophony of noise surrounding them, ‘break this up as small as you can and load up that carronade with it and as much shot as she’ll hold.’ Purcell gaped as he saw the silver and began to mouth a question but then nodded and gathered his men around him.
Butler ran to the stairs and jumped the last few steps onto the main deck. It was worse than he could have imagined. Bodies lay everywhere, their blood spreading out around them and staining the deck. The two remaining creatures were surrounded by men and outnumbered by a huge margin; however, there was no doubt as to who was winning. He saw a fire over on the starboard side and saw a harried Lieutenant Winfield directing men to extinguish the blaze before it grew out of control.
Butler waded into the closest throng of people and forced his way through the men. The stench of blood hit him before he reached the inner circle of men and its potency caused him to stop. The creature was surrounded by thirty or so men and each lunged forward and skipped back at alternate times as they tried to score a lucky wound on the thing. Bodies lay everywhere and testified to the creature’s speed. There were a myriad of wounds on the creature’s body but they seemed to close almost as soon as they were opened.
Butler waited until the creature swung around and then raced forward; slashing hard at the thing’s exposed back. His sword cut deep into the thing’s torso, separating flesh and exposing bone in one violent motion. Blood seeped from the wound but it was a foul, thick substance that was almost black in colour. The creature howled and turned on Butler but the captain was already moving through the crowd and taking up another position.
He noted that the wound he had inflicted still hadn’t healed and that ichor still seeped freely from it. He struck again and grinned as he cut into the thing’s arm and felt the bone jar his arm. The creature shrieked and this time turned in time to see his assailant. Butler tried to lose himself in the crowd again but the thing batted the crewmen aside easily and pursued him regardless.
Men scattered and Butler was aware of a strong voice over the chaos. ‘Cut the sails, men.’ Butler glanced up but all he could see was the creature bearing down on him. He had reached as far as he could go and he felt the ship at his back as he prepared to face his attacker.
The creature could only move one of its arms but Butler knew that he was still no match for its speed despite the creature’s injury. Suddenly he saw men jump past from above as they dragged the main coarse sail with them. They tumbled to the deck and continued on towards the quarterdeck. The creature was enveloped within the thick canvass before it knew what was happening and Butler ran forward and drove his sword deep into the struggling shape. He grinned maniacally as he withdrew the sword and then drove it again and again into the figure. This time the creature’s arm tore through the canvas and lashed outwards catching Butler and sending him sprawling. He felt his sword snap as he held on to its handle and then he hit the deck in a heap against the stairs.
Men immediately rushed to him while others descended on the struggling figure and hacked it to pieces.
‘Are you alright, sir?’ he looked up to see Lieutenant Fowler’s bloodied face and nodded as he was helped to his feet. He was about to nod his thanks when Fowler suddenly frowned and then collapsed silently to the deck. Butler looked past his first Lieutenant’s prone body and burned with anger as he looked into Sir John Milton’s face.
Butler didn’t see the Governor move but he felt his own uniform pulled tightly against his throat as Milton grabbed his front and pulled him into the air. At the same time he heard Captain Purcell shout that he was ready and then time seemed to stand still.
He saw Milton glance over at the men behind the carronade and then back at Butler. ‘You know that it won’t kill me, of course,’ the things voice was almost snake-like as he formed words through shredded lips. Butler gasped for breath but regarded Milton coolly despite his discomfort.
The man was much as Butler imagined. His face, despite the terrible contortions it suffered in his new form, was still that of a weak and embittered man. His chin was too short for his face and his nose over-large. His eyes, though filled with an inner fire that was anything but natural, were still those of a spoilt boy pretending he was a man.
‘You’ll not take this ship,’ he croaked in reply and then added. ‘Captain Purcell, be so good as to blow this bastard to Hell.’
‘A brave order, Captain, but one which is doomed …’
Milton suddenly howle
d and Butler was dropped to the deck. He looked up in confusion and saw Lieutenant Fowler collapse back to the deck with the stump of Butler’s sword held tightly in his grip. Butler saw the blood drench the clothes around Milton’s crotch and then suddenly the carronade exploded and sent its lethal discharge straight into the creature.
Butler saw the shot rip into Milton’s face as if in slow motion. The mixture included small rounded shot and these tore through the bone and flesh of Milton’s exposed face, shredding everything they touched. Butler watched in fascination as the flesh and bone begin to re-knit after the violence of the discharge. He thought for a moment that his plan had not worked, that the creature would recover after all. Then he began to see small pieces of silver that had lodged in the flesh began to burn. Initially, there were just small wisps of smoke but these soon grew as the silver’s taint spread through Milton’s system.
The effect was frightening and Butler watched in awe as the silver consumed the body like acid, running through ruined arteries and carrying its poison toward Milton’s heart.
There was no big explosion, no cleansing fire. One minute Milton was snarling at them and the next he died in agony. He was dead before his body pitched forward to the deck and then Butler quietly borrowed Lieutenant Winfield’s sword and removed what was left of the creature’s head. It took him another moment before he could rise and survey the damage.
Dawn came slowly but no-one really noticed. The torches were extinguished, much to the relief of the Boson, but men continued their grisly tasks regardless. Butler had ordered all corpses beheaded before they were burned just in case the infection had been passed on. He sent a small patrol back to the site where they had found the silver and not a man complained when Butler ordered the silver broken up and spread over the ashes of the creatures and the dead before everything was buried deep beneath the earth.
Others washed the deck with an almost manic enthusiasm, as if by doing so they could wash away their memories as well as the blood. Others still ran up the ratlines and secured the repaired main course sail while yet more of the men tended to the wounded that had made it out of the surgeon’s lair alive. Butler held his side as he surveyed the deck. The surgeon had requested his presence in surgery hours ago but he had instructed Midshipman Garrett to report back to the good doctor that he had been unable to find the captain but that he would pass on the message as soon as he could. Butler noted the poor Midshipman’s white face as he had returned from delivering his message and pitied the boy; the doctor’s tongue lashings were legendary.
They had one hundred and sixty two men dead and would be lucky to get to the nearest port with the men they had left. That assumed that they did not happen across a French vessel on the way, of course. There was some good news, however. Both Lieutenant Fowler and Midshipman Hackett, newly promoted to third lieutenant, would recover. Although both would take some time to heal from their wounds. Butler felt the breeze pick up and heard Lieutenant Winfield approach.
‘We’re ready when you are, sir,’ the young Lieutenant was shaping up nicely Butler thought as he saw the man stand rigidly to attention. ‘As you were, Mister Winfield,’ Butler replied and then looked out towards the island for the last time.
‘Let’s go home.’
Epilogue
The room was small but beautifully decorated. Oak panels covered the walls and soft lights suffused the room with a dull glow that was at once calming if not actually soporific. Numerous paintings of naval engagements, where the artists had been at pains to portray all of the heroism and grandeur of such engagements and none of the reality and terror that accompanied such slaughter, adorned the panels.
A thick pall of smoke filled the upper quarter of the room from cigar smoke and a small fan swung valiantly, but ultimately futilely, above the two men who faced a roaring fire.
‘You received the report I trust?’ the first man spoke around the large cigar which he only removed when he brought his drink to his lips. His jowls shook as he spoke and he rested the glass on his ample stomach as he regarded his companion.
‘Yes, indeed.’ The second man replied. ‘This Butler certainly seems to have an uncanny ability to pull victory from looming defeat.’
The first man grunted in reply and puffed again at his cigar. ‘There have been many strange sightings and even reports of lost ships through the years where no rational explanation has ever been found. Up until now, the Admiralty have merely ignored them. As the empire grows, though, we will have to address these,’ he paused as he sipped his drink again, ‘occurrences.’
‘What do you suggest?’
‘This Butler has a bit of a reputation I believe. Somewhat of a rogue who doesn’t always play by the rules.’
‘He gets results, though,’ the second man quickly added.
‘Oh yes, but that’s precisely what I’m getting at. He’s a bit of a lose cannon, which we could do well to aim in certain, shall we say, areas of our choosing.’
‘He won’t like it,’ the other man warned.
‘It’s not like he has a choice. His father was an accountant, not an Admiral.’
‘But it would be wise to appear to be magnanimous, my Lord,’ the man soothed. ‘After all, he has defeated threats which would otherwise have caused many deaths.’
‘You may be right,’ the first man agreed with a sigh. ‘Why don’t you promote him to Commodore and ensure that his ship’s re-fit is prioritised. That should keep him happy.’
‘The rank is not much good without a squadron to go with it, my Lord,’
‘Oh for God’s sake, man, you push too far. He will do as he is told,’ the larger man exploded and spilt his brandy when he turned too quickly.
The other man held up his hands in a conciliatory motion and reached for the brandy decanter to refill his colleague’s glass.
‘In the meantime,’ the larger man continued with a snort, ‘I have a report that you can draft orders around for our good captain.’
‘Oh?’ the second man raised his eyebrows. ‘So soon?’
The Lord ignored the sarcasm in the other man’s tone. ‘Yes, we have been getting reports from our colonies in the East Indies for some time of piracy and mutilation. Recently, however, news has been filtering back that suggests that all is not as it may seem; ships that appear from nowhere strike at our trade ships and disappear before their escorts can react. We have already lost far too many merchant ships as well as two of the King’s fleet and their entire crews. To be honest if only half of it is true then the authors of the reports are raving mad, but the stories are persistent and conspicuously similar. It might be no harm to send the Swift for a little jaunt after its re-fit.’
‘But we need every ship for the French blockade, sir.’
‘My dear, Lewis, the blockade is doomed to failure,’ the larger man snorted and waved his hand dismissively. ‘The French will be out soon enough and the war will begin in earnest.’
The second man was startled that all the Admiralty’s efforts over the last few weeks could be dismissed with a mere wave of the Lord’s hand. He wasn’t too sure if he liked the obvious glee with which his superior looked forward to war either. ‘But that is all the more reason to have all our ships ready, is it not?’
‘The most important thing at this moment is stopping these damned pirates,’ the Lord responded with a hard edge to his voice. ‘If merchants stop using these lucrative trade routes then we will not be able to charge them exorbitant taxes. Who do you think is going to pay for the coming war if our trade stops?’
The second man sighed as he saw the problem. ‘I’ll see to it immediately, sir.’
‘Did you find out what happened to that box they discovered on the island?’ the Lord asked as he blew out another cloud of smoke.
‘I believe they burned it, sir.’
‘Did they open it?’
‘No, sir. They were concerned that it might have been the cause of the infection to start with.’
‘Pity,’
the Lord grumbled and then shrugged. ‘Oh, there’s no need to mention the mutilations or the disappearing ships in the brief. It would be best for our good captain to approach the mission with an open mind.’
About the Author
DEREK GUNN lives in Ireland with his wife and three children. He is the author of six thriller novels: Vampire Apocalypse: a World Torn Asunder, Vampire Apocalypse: Descent into Chaos, Vampire Apocalypse: Fallout, The Estuary, Gemini and The Gatekeeper and two novellas in The HMS Swift Adventures: The Diabolical Plan and The Island and one novella in the Vampire Apocalypse series: A Prelude to the Vampire Apocalypse
Visit him at www.derekgunn.com