Fangtooth (21 page)

Chapter 41

Bruce gingerly surveyed the street. The
harbour lights threw a sheen of illumination across the surface of the water,
making it appear almost picturesque. Shazam’s ears went up and her hackles
rose. She bared her teeth, growled.

“Come here. Heel,” Bruce said.

The sound of skittering claws scraping
across the ground reached his ears. He turned, looked down the street and saw a
number of Fangtooth heading their way. Some ran on all fours, others moved
upright. However they moved, they all looked menacing. Lamplight reflected from
their teeth, made them appear even longer and sharper.

He counted at least six creatures, but
God knew how many others lurked in the shadows.

The torch in his hand flickered,
creating misshapen shadows that danced across the walls and the ground.

“Form a circle,” Bruce said.

He felt people gather at his side and
back. “Right, we need to move as a unit.”

“Move where?” Zander asked.

“We need to get out of the village. My
car’s parked over there and I can get five in with a squeeze. Who else has got
a car?”

“And what about everyone else in the
village?” Zander asked. “We can’t just leave them.”

“The police will be here soon.”

He noticed the entrance to the cellar
door lying open. “What’s with the torches?”

Bruce looked across to see the old man
that had spoken to him before. Still dressed in his pyjamas, he leaned against
his front door and looked out. An old woman peered over his shoulder.

“Albert, what’s going on?” she asked.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,
Doris. You get inside; let me deal with it.”

“You get the fuck inside too,” Zander
roared. Albert’s expression changed, became indignant. “There’s something
dangerous out here,” Zander said.

“Is that you, Zander?” Albert asked.
“What’s going on?”

“For God’s sake, man, get the fuck
inside and lock your door.”

Albert stepped out into the street. “I
don’t know what the meani—”

The word caught in his throat as a
Fangtooth scurried from around the side of the house. It looked at Bruce and
the torches, hissed, turned and saw Albert.

The old man stood frozen to the spot,
his jaw hanging open. He babbled something unintelligible, raised his hands in
a feeble attempt to ward the creature off, then screamed as the Fangtooth sank
its teeth into his hand, severing it at the wrist. A plume of blood jettisoned
from the severed limb, spraying the ground with abstract gore.

“Shit,” Zander said. He broke free from
the others and ran towards the creature, furiously waving his torch.

Bruce sensed the unease in the rest of
the group. Next minute, Jim broke free. He dropped his torch and pulled out his
knife.

“You don’t think I’m gonna let you take
all the spoils, Skipper,” he said as he danced across the road.

Brad shook his head. “The damn fool.” He
ran after Jim.

Bruce grimaced. They needed to stick
together. Safety in numbers.

He watched as Zander parried and thrust
with the torch. Bits of burning cloth and sparks fell to the ground. The
Fangtooth scuttled back, chomping Albert’s hand as it moved. The firelight
appeared to dance in its eyes.

“
Albert
,” Doris screamed as she
ran out of the house. Blood sprayed over her nightgown as she reached her
husband’s side. Without hesitating, she started to drag him back towards the
house.

By now, the other Fangtooth had reached
the group. Bruce and his companions warded them off with the torches. The
Fangtooth circled around, snapping at the air with their teeth.

Alerted by the commotion, other people
ventured outside. Then the screaming really started.

Bruce saw a small,
middle-aged woman open her door to find a Fangtooth on her porch. The creature
moved with almost fluid grace, taking a chunk out of her waist with one bite.
In a strangely silent manner, the woman grabbed her wound and a length of
intestine slopped over the top of her hands to hang down her side. She
staggered back, stumbled, and another creature leaped upon her prone body and buried
its head in her stomach. Bruce heard its jaw chomping, and he turned away,
sickened by the sight.

A young
blond-haired boy ran into the street. His mother called him back, but it was
too late. A Fangtooth pounced, raking the boy’s back with its claws and tearing
out ribbons of flesh. The boy screamed and fell to his knees, the creature on
his back. The boy’s mother, heedless of her own safety, ran out and started
hitting the creature with her bare hands. Loud sobs burst from her mouth.
Another creature loped across, sank its teeth into the woman’s leg, severing
her ankle. She collapsed to the ground, still trying to wrestle the creature
from her son.

Bruce didn’t know
how much more he could take. He wanted to shut his eyes to blank out the
horror, but he couldn’t. He had to stay alert.

Terrified faces
peered out of windows. Gunshots rang out as some of the villagers took the
initiative.

The creatures were
in a feeding frenzy. Blood shone from their heads, dripped from their teeth,
between which lay strands of human flesh. They attacked indiscriminately, old
or young, male or female, it didn’t matter.

Jim jumped onto one
of the Fangtooth, riding it like a cowboy. Brad joined in, jabbing at it with
his torch. A spine along the Fangtooth’s back pierced Jim’s leg, but he seemed
unconcerned. He stabbed it with his knife, raking the blade across the
creature’s eyes. The creature roared in pain, which brought a grim smile to
Jim’s lips.

Bruce’s torch
burned low and he lit his other one from the embers. It wouldn’t last long, and
he wondered what he would do when it burnt out. “We need to move faster,” Bruce
said.

“We can’t leave
them,” Erin cried.

“We’ll come back
for them in the car, but we’ve got to move, now.” Four Fangtooth blocked their
path. One of them chewed on a man’s carcass, tearing chunks of meat out. Bruce
never would have thought human skin could stretch so far. With each bite, the
creature shook its head to snap the tenuous strands connecting the flesh to the
body.

The Fangtooth
reminded him of a cross between sharks and crocodiles, both true carnivores
with a penchant for raw meat.

Two of the
creatures moved to intercept the group. The nearest Fangtooth lunged for them.
Bruce dodged aside, lost his momentum and almost tripped. Shazam growled and snapped
her teeth at the creature’s legs, distracting the Fangtooth from her master and
allowing him to regain his balance. The Fangtooth dropped down to Shazam’s
level, cocked its head and lunged for Shazam’s throat. Bruce felt his heart
stop and his stomach sink. A lump blocked his throat, making breathing
difficult.

Shazam jumped out of the way, and the
Fangtooth’s teeth snapped on empty air. Bruce squeezed out a thankful breath.

Another Fangtooth scuttled across.
Shazam ran to intercept it; her agile body and faster legs helping her avoid
the creature’s attack. Bruce shoved the torch towards the creature’s face,
causing it to rear back, and allowing him to skip past. Although only twenty
feet away, the car may as well have been on another continent.

The Fangtooth feasting on the carcass
looked up. Blood dripped from its face, giving it a menacing sheen. It opened
its mouth, revealing half-chewed organs. Bruce cringed, his stomach curdling at
the sight.

He waved the torch, and remnants of
burning cloth fell off to lie smouldering on the ground.

The Fangtooth advanced on all fours, one
step at a time. The other Fangtooth stood before the car, as though it knew his
destination.

As the bloodied Fangtooth moved in for
the kill, it rose up on two legs and opened its mouth to roar. Bruce didn’t
hesitate as he thrust the burning chair leg down its throat, searing flesh. The
creature moved back. Bruce let go of the torch, leaving it jutting from the
creature’s mouth. Smoke from scorched flesh drifted out of its mouth, making it
look even more hellish.

Bruce’s companions waved their torches
and shouted menacingly to try to drive the creatures away.

The Fangtooth guarding the car twisted
its head to look at its wounded companion. With no distinction of where its
next meal came from, and seeing an easy target, it moved in and started to bite
the wounded creature. With the stick jutting from its throat, the stricken
creature couldn’t defend itself and it fell to the ground, the other creature
moving to stand above it before driving its teeth into the other Fangtooth’s
body.

“I’m going to make a run for the car,”
Bruce shouted. He extracted the keys from his pocket; pressed the key fob
button to unlock the car, ran across, yanked the door open and tumbled inside.
Shazam bounded across and jumped over him to sit in the passenger seat. Bruce
shoved the key in the ignition and turned it. The engine started up; it was the
most beautiful sound he had ever heard. Grinning to himself, he looked across
to his companions, only to see another group of Fangtooth had arrived and cut
them off.

Chapter 42

Bruce saw Erin and the group sweeping
their flaming torches around to ward off the creatures surrounding them. Zander
and his crew had disappeared. Bruce put the car in gear, pressed his foot down
on the accelerator and sped along the road. When he drew close to the nearest
creature, he switched the headlights on and pressed the pedal to the floor.

The Fangtooth swivelled and stared at
the approaching vehicle, but it reacted too slowly. The car struck it with a
sickening crunch; sent it bouncing along the road, rolling end over end.
Without easing off the accelerator, Bruce headed towards the next Fangtooth.
The car stuck it, the front wheel rolling over its body and momentarily leaving
the road as it careered over the carcass. Bruce thought he heard something
snap.

Shazam barked in his ear.

The group cheered, waving their almost
burnt out torches in the air. The remaining Fangtooth scattered, looking for
easier prey.

Bruce stopped the car. He glanced in the
rear-view mirror, saw movement against the harbour wall and twisted his head to
see Duncan. He glared at Bruce, his lips mashed together in a tight grimace. A
knife glinted in his hand. Bruce revved the engine, slipped it into reverse, eased
off the clutch, spun the car around and steered a course towards Duncan.

Seeing the car heading towards him,
Duncan stood up and started to run. The group was busy focusing on the
remaining Fangtooth and they failed to spot him until it was too late. He flew
into the group, knocking Jack and Sara aside before grabbing Erin. He sliced
the knife across the back of her hand, forcing her to drop her weapon, then
placed the knife to her throat.

Bruce slammed on the brakes. Erin stared
back at him, her face contorted by fear that made him feel physically sick.

Bruce jumped out
of the car. He heard sirens in the distance; saw flashes of red and blue lights
on the track leading down to the village.

“Duncan, it’s over. Let her go.”

Duncan laughed. “It’s never going to be
over.”

“The police are here. Don’t make things
worse for yourself than they already are.”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to
tell me what to do.”

Over ten feet separated them, ten feet
that Bruce couldn’t cross in time. He caught sight of movement out of the
corner of his eye, a flash of white creeping through the shadows beside the
harbour wall: Shazam.

“Look, what good is holding Erin hostage
going to do?”

“Who said anything about holding a
hostage?” Duncan turned, keeping a tight grip on Erin.

Bruce saw a thin line of blood at Erin’s
throat. Saw the fear in her expression.

Shazam was less than eight feet from
Duncan. She crawled along the ground, a canine predator.

“Now it’s up to you girl,” Bruce
whispered. As though sensing what to do, Shazam slinked closer, closing the
gap. Once close enough, she jumped up and started barking.

Taken by surprise, Duncan spun around,
the knife coming away from Erin’s throat enough for her to lever her arm
underneath his to hold the knife away. Bruce didn’t hesitate. He charged,
slamming into Duncan’s side, knocking him and Erin over.

Momentum carried Bruce further and he
rolled painfully across the ground. Behind him, Shazam grabbed the bottom of
Duncan’s trousers between her teeth and tugged at the shopkeeper’s leg. A low
growl emanated from the back of her throat.

Duncan slashed out with the knife. Bruce
clambered to his feet, but he was too slow. The blade cut Shazam across the
back, opening up a pink stripe in her black and white fur. The dog let go of Duncan’s
leg and yelped.

Erin scuttled backwards. Duncan jumped
up and bent to grab hold of her again.

Incensed, Bruce let out a roar of
anguish and charged towards the shopkeeper. Without any heed towards his own
safety, he crashed into Duncan, sending him sprawling across the ground.

Duncan landed on his back, arms above
his head. The knife skittered away. Bruce jumped astride the prone figure and
started hitting him in the face, blow after blow connecting with a sharp smack.

A moment later, Erin grabbed his arms to
stop the onslaught.

“That’s enough,” she said.

Bruce looked down, saw Duncan’s bloodied
face–his cut lips, broken nose, left eye already swelling–and the anger drained
from his body, leaving him feeling strangely empty. He hadn’t thought he possessed
the capacity for such aggression, but driven to the edge, he had responded with
raw anger. He rolled away from Duncan and crawled towards Shazam.

The dog lay on the ground, panting. Her
tongue lolled from the corner of her mouth. Bruce stroked her fur and Shazam
arched her head to lick his hand.

“Good girl,” Bruce said.

He gingerly inspected the vicious wound
on her back, and tears stung his eyes.

Shazam rested her head on his leg.

“She’ll be okay,” Erin said as she
crouched beside them. “We’ll find some antiseptic cream and bandages. The wound
doesn’t look too deep.”

Bruce looked at her, unable to see
clearly through the tears. He nodded.

“You’re going to pay for this,” Duncan
said.

Bruce looked up, saw the shopkeeper on
his feet. Blood dripped from his nose, and he spat a thick wad of blood onto
the ground. The reclaimed knife winked in his hand.

Bruce felt his heart sink. Screams and
shouts echoed throughout the village. Horrible, terrifying sounds originating
from the mouths of people being eaten alive; people battling against a horror
more terrifying than anything their minds could conjure.

“No, it’s you who’s going to pay,” Jack
said.

Duncan turned, raising the knife in his
left hand. He blinked his swollen eye, his mouth hanging open in surprise as
the smouldering chair leg struck him across the side of his head, sending him
sprawling back towards the edge of the harbour.

He teetered on the edge, arms flailing
in the air before regaining his balance. He grinned, revealing bloodied teeth.
But Jack was too quick for him. He drove the glowing tip of the chair leg into
Duncan’s stomach, sending him plummeting over the edge.

Bruce heard him land with a loud splash.
Next minute he heard the sound of churning water, a scream, and then silence.

Bruce ran across
and hugged his son close, ignoring the protests when he squeezed him too tight.