Fangtooth

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.

Without hesitating, Lillian grabbed Erin by the shoulder and pulled her back.

“Accept this, our offering,” Lillian screeched.

Bruce saw what was going to happen, but he was powerless to intervene. He screamed and then watched in vain as Lillian pushed the still stunned Erin off the harbour. She fell heavily, and landed with a splash, surfacing seconds later, spluttering and treading water.

“You’re crazy,” Jen screamed.

Before Lillian could react, Jen pushed her grandmother off the harbour. Lillian flailed in the air, and then disappeared over the edge. She landed with a loud splash and Bruce looked down in time to see her sink below the water, only to bob back up moments later with seaweed stuck comically on her head. She stared up at the people on the quay, and instead of the anger Bruce expected to see, she was grinning.

Attracted to the commotion, Bruce saw a swirl of displaced water as the first of the Fangtooth swam to investigate.

With Lillian being the closer of the two, the creatures made a beeline for her. Bruce watched wide-eyed with shock as the first Fangtooth sank its teeth into her shoulder, severing flesh with one bite. Although she must have been in agony, Lillian didn’t scream. A corona of blood spread out around her body, and the water became a whirl of motion as other Fangtooth joined in the feeding frenzy. Moments later, the creatures dragged Lillian under the water, her last breath a few bloody bubbles that popped on the surface of the sea.

With no time to lose, Bruce looked around, grabbed a length of rope that had unravelled along the tilted deck and wound it up into a loose bundle.

“Catch,” he shouted, throwing the rope as far as he could. It hit the water with a splash and Erin grabbed the end. Bruce started to pull, dragging her towards the boat, when he heard something bang behind him.

He turned his head and in the meagre light, less than eight feet away, he saw twin rows of vicious fangs and a pair of luminous eyes.