Fangtooth

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.

Bruce couldn’t help but feel what a ragtag group they made.

He looked at Erin as she lit another cigarette from the butt of her last one. Despite her dishevelled appearance, she still looked radiant. He noticed her hand shake as she put the cigarette to her lips, and he walked across and stood beside her.

“I don’t think Zander endeared himself to the police officer. What do you think he’s going to do?” he asked.

Erin turned towards him and he saw a deep sadness in her eyes, but also something else, something that made her appear as a frightened child. “Who, Zander or Powell?”

“Zander. What do you think he’s going to do?”

Erin shrugged and puffed on her cigarette. “I don’t know. He’s crazy enough to do anything.”

“You look worried.” He hoped her concern wasn’t for Zander; that she didn’t have feelings for him.

Erin emitted a nervous laugh. “Is it any wonder? You saw those things. God knows how many of them there are.”

“Well I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. The army will take care of them.”

“You think it will be that easy.” It was not a question.

Bruce put his hands on the bar. “They’ve got guns and all manner of weapons. I don’t think a few fish, no matter how big, will be a threat.”

“You seem to be forgetting, these fish, although I don’t think it’s right to call them fish anymore, are now as at home on land as they are beneath the water. That gives them an advantage, a big advantage in my book.”

“We’ve got one of the best armies in the world.”

“And now we’ve got one of the most fearsome predators after us. We’ve only seen a few, but a population can’t sustain itself without there being a lot more of them.” The fear on Erin’s face was evident.

Bruce saw Graham peering at him and he turned away.

Through the window, he could see the harbour lights. He had watched Zander set sail. So had Powell, but he hadn’t intervened. Bruce wondered what would happen when he returned to port. Wasn’t disobeying a police officer a crime? Having never broken the law, Bruce was unsure of the rules, but he didn’t think running away from a questioning officer would go down too well. But then again, from Zander’s expression, he didn’t think the man could care less.

The darkness outside was intimidating. It allowed things to hide too easily. He shivered at the thought. The bright lights of the bar reflected off the glass, so it was hard to see out, but Bruce moved away from the window in case anything looked in and saw him

He anxiously fingered the wallet in his trouser pocket, hoping the influence of the lucky charms would pass through the leather. The way things were going, he needed all the good luck he could get.

A sudden noise made Bruce jump. It originated outside, sounded like a glass bottle kicked across the ground. All eyes turned to the window, then the lights went out.

Bruce heard a scream. He didn’t know who it was, or whether it was male or female. Shazam barked once. The tip of Erin’s cigarette shook in the dark.

“It’s probably the fuse,” Graham grumbled.

Bruce heard a chair scrape across the cold stone floor.

A light penetrated the dark, blinding Bruce as it swept across his face. “Is everyone okay?” Powell asked as he shone the flashlight around the room.

Despite his impaired vision, Bruce saw a few blurred heads nod in the glare of the torch, and heard grunts of ascension before he rubbed his eyes to clear his sight.

“Do you need a hand?” Powell asked as he shone the flashlight behind the bar. “Where’s he gone?”

“Who?” Bruce asked.

“The barman, Graham.”

“He was there a minute ago,” Erin said.

“Well he’s not now.” He approached the counter and shone the torch around the bar. “Graham, are you there?”

No one answered.

“Dad, what’s going on?” Jack asked.

“It’s okay, Graham’s just gone to check the fuses.”

“Then why isn’t he answering?”

Bruce wondered the same thing, but he didn’t want to encourage the nervousness permeating the room. He heard a sob, hoped it wasn’t Erin, but couldn’t see her in the dark. At times like this, he felt useless. Didn’t know what to do or say.

The torchlight illuminated an open door at the rear of the bar. Behind him, Bruce heard footsteps as the assembled crowd gathered around, close enough for him to hear their breathing.

He stared at the doorway.

“Graham?” Powell said.

A noise filtered through the door. Bruce heard those around him hold their breath in anticipation. Sudden movement at the edge of the doorway caught his eye. One of the young girls squealed. Bruce involuntarily clenched his fists; his eyes went wide, fearful. Then a face appeared.

The figure shielded its face. “Get that light out of my fuckin’ eye,” Graham said as Powell shone the torch at him.

The group released a collective breath. Bruce unclenched his fists. Powell lowered the torch. “Why didn’t you answer when I called?”

“Didn’t hear you. Thick walls.”

“Was it the fuse?” Erin asked.

Graham shook his head. “They all look fine to me. Probably a power cut.”

Bruce pointed to the window. “Then why aren’t the harbour lights out?”

All eyes turned towards the window, beyond which the harbour lights glowed. A murmur filtered around the bar.

“What’s going on?” Jen asked.

Powell waved his arms in the air, making the torchlight chase shadows around the room. “Now if everyone will just calm down. It’s probably nothing to worry about.”

“Of course it’s nothing to worry about,” Graham said

Bruce felt something brush against his leg. He looked down and saw Shazam, her head held high as she sniffed the air, ears cocked.

“What is it girl?”

Shazam looked up at him. In the near dark, her eyes glistened.

“What, you think you’re Doctor Doolittle now,” Graham said. “First monsters, now this. Jesus.” He snorted loudly.

“I’d better go and check around outside,” Powell said.

“First sensible thing you’ve said all night,” Graham snapped.

Bruce thought he saw Powell sigh, but he wasn’t sure as shadows played tricks with Powell’s face.

“Be careful,” Erin said.

Graham spat. “Let the man do his job.”

Although not a violent man, Bruce felt like punching Graham.

He watched as Powell turned and walked towards the door; wondered whether he should offer to accompany him, but decided against it. Now that he had Jack back, he didn’t want to let him out of his sight.

Once Powell walked outside, darkness descended upon the bar. Bruce felt something brush his hand, felt fingers intertwine with his own. He looked up, could just make out Erin in the gloom. He squeezed her hand, saw the reflection of her teeth as she smiled in return. Her aroma filled the air, a smell that excited him. He felt they were like school kids, sitting in the back row at the cinema, too shy to surrender to their feelings, but her presence was comforting.

His eyes slowly adapted to the lack of light, and he watched as Sara wandered over to the window and peered out. Beyond the glass, he could see torchlight flicker as Powell swept the area.

He saw Jack staring at him, realised he was still holding Erin’s hand and let go. As though sensing the reason for his action, Erin gave him an encouraging look and then lit another cigarette.

“What’s taking him so long?” Sara asked.

Rocky spoke for the first time, “Perhaps those things got him.”

“Not you as well. I would have thought you had more sense,” Graham said.

“You weren’t there.”

Graham poured himself a whisky and knocked it back.

Bruce saw movement in the doorway behind Graham, but before he had a chance to say anything, a figure rushed forward and struck Graham over the head. He dropped his glass. Bruce heard it shatter. Then Graham collapsed in a heap on the ground behind the bar.

Bruce was too stunned to move. His gaze travelled up the body of the new arrival until he saw her face: Lillian Brown.

By now, everyone had heard the commotion and Bruce heard a voice say, “Gran! My God, what are you doing?”

He turned to see Jen on her feet, shaking her head.

“Hush child,” Lillian said. Her wild eyes surveyed the room before coming to rest on Bruce. He shivered.

Although the bar was between them, Bruce could make out a club of some sort in her hand, which he surmised she had used to hit Graham over the head.

Lillian held her free hand up. “I’ve not come this far to be stopped now.”

“I don’t understand,” Jen said, her voice choked with tears.

“The sea needs sacrifices, child. That’s why this is happening.”

Bruce couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re crazy. Duncan, help me out here.”

He heard a bolt snap into place and turned to see Duncan standing with his back to the door.

“I’m sorry Bruce, but she’s right.”