Fangtooth

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 to 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.