Fangtooth (15 page)

Chapter 30

On the way to his boat, Zander took out
his phone and called his crew. He didn’t tell them what it was about, just
asked them to meet him at the boat, and to come armed. There was no way he was
going to let them sail with him unless they knew the truth, but he couldn’t
explain over the phone.

The fog had all but dissipated, but the
clouds made the darkness seem absolute. The globe shaped harbour lights
provided the only illumination, their radiance broken up into fractal patterns
on the water’s surface. The wind made the wooden shutters on Zander’s
outbuilding clatter and the waves drove
Storm Bringer
repeatedly up
against the dock, making her antennas, masts and winches jangle and clank.

He had left the engine running, leaving Brad
down below to make sure everything ticked over. Once on board, he skipped down
to the galley and made a pot of black coffee, a cup of which he took back up to
the wheelhouse while he waited.

The first to arrive was the first mate,
Muldoon, his brown hair sticking up all over the place and his chubby cheeks
flushed. He jumped aboard and scurried up to where Zander sat waiting.

“You do realise I was just about to get
down and dirty with Jill,” Muldoon said as he dropped his duffel bag. “So you’d
better have a good reason calling me out here in the middle of the goddamn
night.”

“Let’s wait for everyone to arrive. I
don’t want to keep repeating myself. There’s a brew on down below,” Zander
said. He ignored Muldoon’s inquisitive glare and sipped the coffee, which was
hotter than lava and just as thick.

A couple of minutes later, Jim arrived.
He clambered aboard and stepped into the wheelhouse, muttering something about
the weather. He had a habit of talking by hardly moving his lips, an act made
worse by his facial hair.

“So what’s the problem?” Jim mumbled.

Zander nodded. “Get yourself a coffee,
and I’ll explain.”

Jim scratched his beard and scuttled
away, muttering to himself.

About to take another gulp of coffee,
Zander saw a car’s headlights sweep into the harbour. He instantly recognised
McKenzie’s black BMW and he cursed under his breath. The drug dealer was the
last thing he needed.

He watched as the car stopped, its
engine cut out and its headlights extinguished. Next minute, McKenzie stepped
out of the vehicle. A cigarette drooped from the corner of his mouth and he
thrust his hands into the pockets of his black jacket. He walked towards
Zander’s boat, shoulders hunched and barrel chest thrust out.

When he reached the side of the boat,
McKenzie motioned with his head that Zander should come down.

He really didn’t need this shit, but he
stood up and exited the wheelhouse to stand on deck with his foot on the
railing.

“You’re early,” Zander said.

McKenzie spoke without removing his
cigarette, “Don’t fuck with me. Where’s my stuff?”

“Slight problem,” Zander replied.

“Problems are for Dear Abby. Do I look
like fuckin’ Dear Abby?”

This wasn’t going to go down well, but
Zander wasn’t about to start lying. “You’d better come aboard. We’re about to
set sail, and if you come with us, then you’ll see what the problem is.”

“Do I look like I’ve come to go fishin’?
You’re wastin’ my time. You know what happened to the last man who wasted my
time? I took him fishin’, fishin’ without a fuckin’ rod and with him as the bait,
you know what I mean?”

“I understand. But you aren’t going to
believe me if I tell you, so you’d better come and see for yourself.”

McKenzie exhaled a cloud of smoke. “You
fuck with me and I’ll introduce you to a world of pain you didn’t know existed,
you get me?”

Zander nodded. “Yeah, but just keep our
business deal between us. Now come aboard and I’ll show you what’s happened.”
He hated kowtowing to this city punk, a man who was only a go-between, but he
knew that if he didn’t pacify him, then those who swam in the higher echelons
would rain down with fire and brimstone. He really had gotten himself in too
deep, and no amount of regret would help. Now that he’d had time to think about
it, he knew that young lad, Jack, hadn’t stolen his drugs. No, it was the
creatures. Perhaps intrigued by the contents of the pot, they had torn it open.
Now all he could do was show McKenzie what had happened–show him what was
lurking in the ocean.

McKenzie narrowed his eyes and looked
the boat up and down. “You sure that old tub’s not going to sink?”

“Not while I’m at the helm it’s not.”

Looking less than convinced, McKenzie
stepped warily aboard just as Muldoon stepped out of the wheelhouse and
clambered down onto the deck. He looked at McKenzie with a challenging expression.

“You got a fuckin’ problem,” McKenzie
snarled.

Zander saw Muldoon bunch his fist. “Hey,
Muldoon, it’s okay, he’s with me.” He knew Muldoon could handle himself, had
fought beside him, but the likes of McKenzie were a different kettle of fish.
People like McKenzie didn’t just swim with sharks, they were the sharks.
Suburban predators.

Muldoon gave Zander a look that said,
‘you’d better have a good reason for not letting me hit this piece of shit’,
and then he skulked away to the stern to busy himself with preparing the boat.

Zander led the way to the wheelhouse,
and when Jim reappeared, McKenzie had seated himself in a chair at the back of
the room. Jim hardly glanced at him. The same couldn’t be said of McKenzie.

“You sure these men know how to sail this
piece of shit?” he said, looking Jim up and down with disdain.

Zander saw Jim bristle and mumble
something under his beard, which McKenzie thankfully didn’t notice or hear. He
was taking a big enough risk allowing McKenzie on board–apart from Brad, his crew
didn’t know about his sideline–but it was a chance he had to take. Now if only
he could get the jerk to shut his trap.

Next aboard came Robinson, looking as
though he had jumped straight out of bed as he rubbed his knuckles into his
eyes, his blond hair uncombed.

Brad climbed up from the engine room,
wiping his oil covered hands on a piece of dirty rag.

Brad smiled broadly, displaying a couple
of missing teeth between his large lips. “Jim,” he boomed, slapping him on the
back.

Just then, Muldoon entered the
wheelhouse. Saltwater dripped from his oilskins and he shook himself and nodded
a greeting at Robinson and Brad.

“Good weather for it,” Muldoon said.

Brad stared at McKenzie as though he
were someone he had caught breaking into his house.

Zander looked at each of his crew in
turn. “Okay, I’ll not lie to you because we’ve been through a lot, but tonight,
Brad and me, we saw something I’ve never seen before.”

“A bit of pussy. Good for you,” Muldoon
said, laughing loudly. Everyone apart from McKenzie joined in.

Zander waited for the laughter to
subside, fanning his hands to quieten the men down. “If only I was that lucky.”

“Don’t tell me, she were a large one,”
Muldoon said, shaking his head in amusement. “No trouble, I’ve had a few, but
you’ll get over it, hey boys. As long as there’s grass on the playing field.”
He winked.

Zander exhaled loudly. “Listen, this is
important. Tonight Brad and me, we saw something in the sea.”

Brad wrung his hands, his face pale.
“I’ve never seen anything like it.”

McKenzie snorted loudly. “Are you going
to get to the point? I’m a busy man, places to go, people to talk to, you know
what I mean.” He winked at Zander in a way that hinted at malice.

Unperturbed, Zander continued. “Well it
was a fish, but not like any fish we’ve seen before.”

“Come on,” Muldoon said, “we’ve seen all
kinds of fish.”

“Not like these you haven’t. You
remember the other day, when the nets were torn, well not torn, fuckin’
shredded—”

“What about it?” Jim mumbled.

“I think this creature did it. Now I don’t
know what it is or where it’s come from; could even have escaped from a secret
laboratory for all I know, but I’m telling you, this thing was at least four
feet long, and it had arms and legs and the biggest damn teeth you ever saw.”

McKenzie rolled his eyes. “What the
fuck! You think I’ve got time to sit here and listen to this shit?”

Muldoon glared at him. “I’ve sailed with
Trent Zander for more years than you’ve had baths, and if he says there’s
something in the water he’s never seen before, I believe him.”

“Then you’re as cracked as he is. You
sure you haven’t been smoking the merchandise, Zander?” McKenzie asked.

Zander felt like
grabbing him by the throat and strangling the life out of him. He looked at his
crew. Faced with McKenzie’s accusation, which virtually told the whole story,
he didn’t know what to say, and for the first time in his life, he was rendered
speechless.

Fortunately, Brad spoke up. “Aye man,
you don’t think they didn’t know what we were up to? Give the boys credit. We
sail out all by ourselves in the dead of night. I wouldn’t be surprised if
there’s anyone in the village who doesn’t know what we were up to. Not that
everyone agrees with it, but a man has to make a living, and the boys knew you
were using drug money to pay their wages. In my book, that went above and
beyond.”

Robinson nodded, and Jim chortled behind
his beard.

Zander smirked. How did he think he
could ever lead a secret life in a village where there were no secrets? A
village where everyone knew everyone, a village as tight knit as Mulberry.

“Well if you’ve all stopped licking each
other’s asses, perhaps you can tell me where my fuckin’ drugs are,” McKenzie
said.

Zander rubbed his neck. “They’re gone.
The lobster pots were smashed and the drugs were gone.”

McKenzie jumped to his feet. “You’d
better be fuckin’ jokin’.”

Zander shook his head. “I wish I was.”

“So who’s got the drugs?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. No
one’s got ’em. I think these sea creatures were inquisitive and they smashed
the pots to see what was inside.”

“Bullshit. You’re yanking my fuckin’
chain. Fuckin’ sea monsters.”

Brad puffed his chest out. “You want to
make something of it?”

Before anyone could react, McKenzie
pulled a knife out of his jacket pocket and thrust it towards Brad’s stomach.

Despite his size, Brad was quick on his
feet. He easily dodged the blade and grabbed McKenzie’s wrist. Next minute,
Robinson and Jim pulled knives from their waistbands.

“Little boys shouldn’t play with knives.
You might get cut,” Brad said, prizing the blade from McKenzie’s fingers.

“You’re going to regret that,” McKenzie
snarled. “Don’t you fuckin’ inbreeds know who I am?”

“Stop, you’ll have me quaking in me
boots,” Brad replied.

“Let him go,” Zander said. “I’ll not
have any fighting on board my boat.”

Brad passed Zander the knife, and
Robinson and Jim put their weapons away. The drug dealer straightened out his
jacket and ran a hand through his short hair.

“When Monty hears about this, you lot
will be fuckin’ dog meat,” he growled.

Monty was the big cheese, the head
honcho, and Zander knew McKenzie wasn’t making idle threats. These people
wouldn’t mess around. They had lost a consignment of drugs worth a lot of
money, and someone was going to have to pay. The only chance he had now at
redeeming himself, and the lives of his crew, was to show McKenzie what lay
beneath the waves.

“Okay men, I won’t force any of you to
come as this is going to be dangerous, but I’m guessing these creatures are the
reason we’ve not caught any fish lately. I’m also guessing they had something
to do with the sinking of the
Silver Queen
, and that’s why I’m going to
kill every last one of them. Now’s your last chance to leave, because the
tide’s in, and I’m about to set sail.”

McKenzie grimaced. “If you think I’m—”

“Shut your trap, McKenzie. You’re coming
whether you like it or not,” Zander said. “I’m going to prove to you that no
one stole your fucking drugs, and that there is something out there.” To his
relief, McKenzie didn’t argue. He was not stupid enough to think he could take
on five men.

Robinson nodded his head. “I’m in,” he
said. Brad agreed, as did Jim.

“Oh damn it, count me in too,” Muldoon
said.

Jim started towards the door, then
stopped and turned back. “How do you expect to catch or kill these creatures?
They chewed through the net last time.”

Zander stared out to sea. “From what
I’ve seen, these creatures want to come aboard to feed. So that’s what I’m
going to let them do. We’re going to use ourselves as bait. And then we’re
going to kill the bastards.”

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.”