Fangtooth (7 page)

Chapter 14

“Are you sure it was her?” Bruce asked,
putting down the paintbrush he’d been using to paint the window. White paint
splattered the front of his blue shirt and speckled his cheeks and hair.

Jack nodded. “I don’t know what happened
to her, but she looked real bad.”

Bruce shook his head. “My god. I was
only talking to her this morning. What a day this is turning out to be.”

Jack recognised something more than
regular sympathy in his dad’s voice. He saw concern; wished now he hadn’t
mentioned anything. The previous altercation with his dad seemed to have been
forgotten, which was better than having to listen to another lecture.

“Perhaps I should go see how she is,”
Bruce said.

“Why? You don’t know her.”

“I know, but it seems the right thing to
do. I think I’ll go and have a wash. Do you know where they took her?”

Jack shook his head.

“Well, there’s probably a hospital
nearby. I’m sure someone in the village will know. And Jack, thanks for the
milk.”

Jack shrugged his shoulders. “It’s no
big deal.”

Bruce ruffled Jack’s hair. “Still,
thanks anyway.” He smiled and then left the room, leaving Jack feeling glad his
good deed hadn’t gone unnoticed, but resentful that his dad was going to see
another woman.

Bruce parked the car opposite the
harbour and then walked into the hardware shop. Duncan Roberts was sitting
behind the counter reading a book.

“Hello again,” Duncan said, smiling
amiably. “It’s Bruce, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. I don’t know if you heard
about the woman that had the diving accident earlier—”

Duncan nodded his head. “Terrible
business. What with the attack this morning. Never seen anything like it in all
the years I’ve lived here.”

“Well I was just wondering if you could
tell me where they might have taken her.”

“Probably to the hospital in town.”

“Is it far?”

“No, you passed through it on the way
here. The one with the new resort.”

“Thanks.”

Duncan clucked his tongue. “Mind how you
go now. You know what they say, bad luck has a way of travelling in threes.”

Bruce subconsciously fingered his wallet
with the good luck charms inside.

“If you’d like a drink later, get to
know a few people, I’ll be in the bar about eight,” Duncan said.

“What … yes, thanks. I might just take
you up on that.”

Outside the shop, Bruce stared across
the harbour and saw Zander standing on the bow of his boat, staring back at
him. Bruce held his hand up in acknowledgement. Zander spat into the sea,
turned and disappeared below decks.

Bruce didn’t like animosity, but he
didn’t think Zander was going to be on his Christmas card list anytime soon.

Once in the car, he took out his phone
and rang Jack, who answered on the sixth ring.

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to drive to the hospital.
Don’t know what time I’ll be back. There’s some money on the table in the
kitchen. If I’m not back in time, buy yourself something to eat.”

“Buy something where?”

“There’s a cafe in town isn’t there? Oh,
and can you feed Shazam too?”

“Whatever.”

“Thanks. See you later. Be good.”

Bruce disconnected the call and started
the car. He drove out of the village at a leisurely pace. With so much work to
do on the house, he felt guilty leaving it. But he knew he was going to have to
get back to his real job of website designing eventually when they connected
his phone line and set up his internet account. Some of the tasks, like the
rotten bedroom window and the dodgy plumbing, were best left to the
professionals. This reminded him to ask Duncan if he could recommend anyone;
better not to upset the local tradesmen if he could help it by getting in
outsiders to do the work. One person off his Christmas card list in a small
village was already one too many.

The new resort was bustling. Families
were playing on the beach, and kids were paddling in the sea and running
through the arcades. Bruce wondered whether news of the attack had filtered
through yet. Looking at the kids in the sea, he doubted it. Perhaps the attack
was an isolated incident, but then what had happened to Erin? He assured himself
it was probably unconnected, and followed the signs to the hospital.

He parked in the car park and made his
way to the reception. The hospital was a modern building with a large glass
front. The automatic doors glided open and Bruce walked inside. He basked in
the cool interior, took a moment to waft the neck of his T-shirt. He’d tried to
dress casually in new black jeans and a T-shirt, but now he wondered if it was
appropriate attire for visiting someone in hospital. That’s if they let him see
her.

The woman seated at reception looked up
and stared at Bruce over the top of her glasses. She had a studious expression,
her black hair tied back in a severe ponytail that only accentuated the sharp
angles of her face.

“Yes?” she said.

“Erm, I wonder if you can help me. There
was a woman brought in earlier.”

“Name?”

“Erin.”

The receptionist stared at him as though
he were stupid. “Erin who?”

Bruce leaned forward. He knew all too
well that hospitals had strict visiting procedures. “McVey. She’s my sister.”

The receptionist tapped a pencil against
her teeth.

Bruce gave her what he hoped was his
best smile. After another moment, the woman ran her finger down a list on her
desk.

“Well, visiting hours aren’t for another
hour.”

“How is she?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Well, couldn’t I just pop in and see
how she is?”

After another embarrassingly long
silence and prolonged staring match, she said, “Second floor. Ward four. Tell
the duty nurse I said it was all right.”

“Thank you.” Anxious to be out of her
sight, Bruce turned and followed the signs to the second floor. On the way, he
passed a small kiosk selling flowers, and he bought a bunch. Probably the least
green-fingered person he knew, he hoped the flowers didn’t die before he
reached the room.

Bruce followed the signs to the ward
until he found himself standing outside the double doors. Small squares of
glass in each door allowed him to peer through before entering. He couldn’t
spot Erin, although there was one bed with the curtains drawn around it. He
realised his palms were sweating, and he felt slightly nauseous. What the hell
was the matter with him? He was only paying a visit in the hospital. But he
knew that wasn’t all there was to it. He swallowed to dislodge the lump in his
throat, then he took a deep breath, pushed open the door and stepped into the
room. A small woman wearing round glasses sat at a desk inside the ward. She
looked up at Bruce, and he quickly explained the reason for his visit.

The duty nurse pointed along the ward.
“She’s resting. Bed at the end with the curtain drawn around it.” With that,
she returned her attention to the paperwork on her desk.

As in the rest of the hospital, there
was an antiseptic aroma in the air, but there was also the undeniable faint
smell of blood and human waste that almost made him turn around and head back
out.

The few patients who weren’t drowsing
looked at him for a moment then turned away. The television at the end of the
room was on, but with the sound turned down low the muffled exchange of views
between the host and guests on a daytime chat show sounded as though it was
coming from another room.

The patients were all female, and seeing
them in their nightgowns and pyjamas made Bruce blush. The ages of the patients
ranged from late teens to late life. Some sat in chairs, but most reclined in
bed.

He quickly made his way down the middle
of the room, towards the curtained bed at the end. When he reached it, he
coughed to clear his throat. Butterflies danced in his stomach, and he
chastised himself. He wasn’t a goddamn teenager.

“Erin? Erin McVey?”

When no one answered, he timidly peeked
through a gap in the curtain. The woman lying in the bed was asleep, but he
instantly recognised her. She looked pale, her breathing laboured. There was a
tube in her arm, and a clear liquid dripped through at regular intervals. Bruce
felt his heart miss a beat. Christ, what had happened to her?

He slipped through the curtain, shaking
his head despondently. Not wanting to disturb her, he placed the flowers on the
bedside cabinet, and turned to leave.

“I’ve got to get out of here.”

Bruce jumped. He spun around and saw
Erin struggling to sit up. She coughed, the action making her cringe in pain.

“Here, let me help you.” He reached down
to assist, but she held her hand up.

“I can manage,” she snapped. After a
moment’s struggle, she sat up. “What are you doing here?”

Bruce stared at her, unsure what to say
next. He nodded. “Yes, I … um, I—”

“Well, I don’t know what you’re doing
here, but I’ve got to get out. I’ve got to warn them.” She started to swing her
legs out of bed. The tube in her arm pulled tight, almost toppling the stand it
was attached to.

Bruce grabbed it before it fell. “Take
it easy.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Bruce sighed and his shoulders slumped.
This wasn’t going how he had imagined. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Wait a minute. What did you come here
for anyway?”

“I … Well, I heard about your accident–I
don’t know what I came for really.” He shrugged, could feel his face burning
up.

Erin exhaled noisily. “Look, I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“That’s okay. You look like you’ve been
through the mill.”

“That’s not the half of it.” With
surprising speed and strength, she reached out and grabbed Bruce’s arm. “You’ve
got to listen to me. They’re saying it was lack of oxygen, but I know it
wasn’t. You’ve got to believe me. There’s something out there. In the water.
Something unnatural.”

“Yes, I already know about it.”

“You do?” Her hold relaxed.

“Yes, a shark I heard.”

Erin shook her head and squeezed
tighter. “Not a shark. It was something else. Something, I don’t know …
something monstrous.”

Bruce patted her hand. “You’re safe now.
Nothing can hurt you here.”

Erin sank back onto the bed. “I don’t
think any of us are safe,” she said before sleep engulfed her.

Chapter 15

Jack was bored. He was also hungry
again. A quick inspection of the fridge revealed milk, a tub of margarine, a
couple of eggs, and a half empty can of beans.

He took a swallow from the milk to sate
his appetite, then replaced it on the shelf and closed the fridge.

His dad had left ten pounds on the
kitchen table, so he picked the money up, and with Shazam in tow, he left the
house and headed back to the village.

Hopefully, Rocky would have gone by now,
and if he was really lucky, Jen might still be around.

On the coast road, he stared out to sea.
The great expanse of water stretched before him, and he wondered whether there
really was a man-eating shark prowling beneath the waves. If there was, then he
could see a scene straight out of ‘Jaws’ might ensue, and a flotilla of boats
would set out to destroy it. Not that he would support that. The shark was only
doing what came naturally to it. How the hell was it supposed to know that
mankind was not on the menu?

When he reached the harbour, he noticed
Trent Zander’s boat had set sail. A couple of seagulls sat preening themselves
on the harbour wall. Shazam barked at them and the birds cocked their heads and
looked across at her before squawking loudly. They flapped their wings, then
settled down.

The aroma of brine was heavy in the air.
It stuck to the back of Jack’s throat, making him feel a little sick.

Across the road at the cafe,
Bites
,
there were still a couple of tables and chairs outside, but no one sat in them.
Jack wandered across. A faded blue canopy shaded the front of the shop.

A chalkboard nailed to the wall listed
the food available.

“I’ll have to leave you out here,” Jack
said to Shazam, who stared up at him with her tongue lolling from the side of
her jaw. “It’s no good giving me your sad face. You see that sign, it says no
dogs allowed.” Although she was generally well behaved, he attached Shazam to
her lead and tied her to a drain pipe. Then he quickly scratched her behind the
ear and entered the shop.

After the smell of brine, the aroma of
freshly baked food was wonderful. Jack breathed deeply to fill his lungs with
the fragrance, and his stomach rumbled in response.

Inside the shop, a glass-fronted cabinet
held a few cakes. Jack salivated at the sight of the chocolate éclairs. A big
black potato oven sat behind the counter, along with a cash register, a
microwave
,
and a rack of bread.

There was no one in the shop, so Jack
knocked on the counter and a moment later, a stout, ruddy faced girl appeared
from the back room. A small white cap covered her hair, and she wiped her hands
on her blue apron. Jack guessed she was about twenty.

“Hello. What can I get you?” she asked,
smiling to reveal large teeth. Jack settled on a cheese and pickle sandwich and
soup.

While the girl prepared the order, Jack
peered out of the window at the harbour, hoping to spot Jen.

“You on holiday?” the girl asked.

“No, just moved here.”

“Oh yes, where to?”

“A house on Millhouse Lane.”

The girl stopped in the middle of
ladling soup into a bowl.

“You okay?” Jack asked.

“Is that the Johnson place?” Her
previously ruddy complexion seemed to have blanched.

“That’s the one. And yeah, I already
heard the previous family was supposed to have disappeared.”

The girl resumed ladling and a dollop of
tomato soup splashed the counter like blood.

“They seemed like such a nice family.
Hadn’t been here that long either. Just plain disappeared. Some people say the
house had something to do with it, others say the father was in debt and that
the collectors found him, others say they ran away in the night.”

“And what do you think?”

The girl turned and stared at him. She
shrugged. “Don’t really know what I think. Just that it was a shame, that’s
all.”

When Jack had his food, he took it
outside and sat at one of the two tables. Shazam looked up longingly. “Sorry,
girl, but this is all mine.” The dog whined softly, and Jack relented, broke
some of the bread off, and tossed it to her.

A few white clouds gathered on the
horizon. Jack stared at them as he ate. A boat came into view. He watched it
make its way towards the harbour; saw Zander step on deck and moor the boat up.

Jack heard a car door open, and turned
to see a short squat man exiting from a black BMW. The man lit a cigarette,
hunched his shoulders and walked towards the harbour. Zander stood on the deck
of his boat and nodded in acknowledgment as the man approached.

Zander looked around quickly, then threw
down a white package, which the man deftly caught. Without saying a word, the
man reached into his pocket, withdrew a small packet of his own, and tossed it
up to Zander. Then the man turned and started walking away.

Now that he was walking back to the car,
Jack had his first proper look at the man. Short and squat, he had a round
face, short hair and deep-set eyes overshadowed by thick brows. He smoked his
cigarette from the corner of his mouth, lips curled around it to exhale. For a
brief instant, the man’s gaze met Jack’s and they stared at one another. Jack
looked away first. He didn’t know why, but the man scared him.

When he looked back at the boat, he saw
Zander clambering down onto the quay with a battered duffel bag thrown over his
shoulder. The sudden sound of the BMW’s engine disturbed the relative silence.
Jack kept his eyes averted as it drove by, but he thought he could feel the
driver’s eyes burrowing into him. He looked back up in time to see Zander
disappearing inside a small wooden outbuilding on the edge of the harbour.

He had seen enough in the city to know
there was something fishy going on that probably didn’t actually involve fish.

Jack wolfed the
remainder of his food, untied Shazam and then hurried across the road to the
harbour. The building Zander had entered was a faded red painted structure that
bore testament to the harsh weather with its buckling walls. Shazam sniffed
around the bottom of the door, her ears cocked. Thinking she might alert Zander
to their presence, Jack pulled her away. Around the side of the building, he
tiptoed towards a small window. Caked with years of dirt, the glass was an
impenetrable screen. Using the tips of his fingers, Jack carefully scraped away
a small viewing area, and then he cupped his hands around his eyes and peered
inside.

He could just make out a figure crouched
on the ground prizing up a floorboard.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doin’?”

Startled, Jack spun around to see Rocky
standing not twenty feet away. His pulse went up.

Great. This was all he needed.

“If it isn’t my girl you’re sniffing
around, it’s other people’s business,” Rocky said.

Shazam stood with her hackles raised.
“I’m just getting acquainted with the area.”

“Acquainted. Mr. Lardy Da Big Shot from
the city is getting acquainted. What say I acquaint you with my fists?”

“Try that and my dog will take a chunk
out of your leg.”

“You think I’m scared of a dog.”

Shazam growled softly.

Rocky coughed and took a step back.
“You’d better not let that mutt anywhere near me, otherwise—”

“Otherwise what?” Jack asked, enjoying
seeing Rocky backpedal.

“Otherwise I’ll make both of you pay.”

“Whatever. Come on Shazam, let’s go.”

“Shazam. What a fucking stupid name,”
Rocky said as he guffawed into his hand.

“That from someone called Rocky. You’re
priceless, you know that.” He knew he was treading dangerously, but he couldn’t
back down. Not now. He had to make a stand from the start, otherwise Rocky and
his sort would think they could do what they wanted with him. Although he
practiced Judo, it meant ‘the gentle way’, as the translation of the name
implied, and was more self-defence than kick-ass.

Heart pumping fast, Jack walked towards
Rocky. For a moment, it didn’t look as though he was going to move, but then
Shazam took the lead and he begrudgingly stepped aside.

Back out on the main road, Jack breathed
a sigh of relief. Without looking back, he walked along the side of the
harbour, intending to head home.

What happened next took him completely
by surprise. He didn’t even have time to react. One moment he was walking
along, the next someone pushed him from behind. He instinctively let go of
Shazam’s lead and flailed his arms to maintain his balance, but it was no good.
Pushed too far, gravity took over. Where a moment ago there had been solid
ground beneath his feet, now there was only empty air. With his heart in his
throat, Jack fell over the edge of the harbour, and down towards the cold water
below.

He closed his eyes and landed with a
loud splash. Although the water yielded, searing pain shot up his back. The
water was as cold as it looked and he descended into its depths. He kicked out
and his left leg struck something submerged beneath the surface. This pain was
more acute, more centralized – it felt like someone had poured acid onto his
skin. Bubbles spurted from his mouth as he gagged. When he opened his eyes, the
saltwater stung; everything was blurred. Disorientated, he kicked and clawed
out, striving to escape the fluid embrace. When he surfaced, he sucked in a
deep lungful of air and trod water for a moment to compose himself. Up on the
quay, Shazam barked loudly, her head visible as she looked down at him.

The pain from his leg was becoming
unbearable. He lifted it in the water to caress the afflicted area and flinched
at the resultant sting. His jeans were ripped where he had cut himself on
something. Blood trailed away from his leg like a ribbon, wafted on the ebb and
flow. Then he remembered the supposed shark attack, and with it came the
thought that sharks were attracted to blood, could sniff it out from miles
away. And here he was, sending out a personal invitation.

Panicked, he looked around the harbour
walls for a way out, but he couldn’t see anything, no ladder, no launching
ramp, nothing. A line of green plankton and barnacles on the harbour wall
indicated where the usual high tide mark was; he was about three foot lower in
the water. The bricks looked too slimy to climb. Then he remembered Zander’s
boat. He turned and looked at it, the only apparent way he could see to haul
himself out of the water. He swam towards the vessel, leaving a murky red trail
in his wake. His clothes billowed around him, making progress difficult.

While swimming, he kept glancing around,
terrified of seeing a fin break the surface. His heart beat like a drum in his
chest, furthering his panic as he wondered if the sound was amplified in the
water, another distress beacon to attract a hungry predator.

He swept his right hand into the water
and something clammy brushed against his fingers. The panic he felt before was
magnified a hundredfold.

Shark!

Terrified of losing his hand, Jack
lifted it out of the water – to find there was something attached to it. In a
fit of panic, he flung it away, but it was only a piece of seaweed. He couldn’t
be sure, but he thought he heard someone laughing.

Desperate to get out of the water, he
continued towards the boat and hauled himself up using the tyres that hung from
the sides of the boat. The weight of his soaked clothes made it difficult, but
eventually he clambered over the side and lay on the deck, breathing hard.

The deck smelled slightly of fish. He
didn’t know how anyone could stomach working with such a stench all day and he
quickly stood up. The thought of all those helpless fish slopping around
underfoot made him angry.

A quick glance at the harbour revealed
no sign of Rocky. Shazam stood at the edge of the quay, looking back with her
tail wagging and her tongue lolling.

It must have been Rocky that pushed him,
but Jack was surprised he hadn’t hung around to gloat. He berated himself for
not hearing him come up behind him. Even Shazam had apparently not heard
anything, otherwise she would have alerted him with one of her ear-piercing
barks.

The wet clothes made him feel
uncomfortable, and he shook himself to try to shake some of the water off. As
he passed the wheelhouse, he glanced inside and caught sight of a small package
on a table, similar to the one Zander had thrown down to the man on the dock,
but far smaller.

He stared quickly at the outbuilding
Zander had entered. Satisfied no one was around to see, Jack tested the door.
It was unlocked. With his pulse pounding in his ears, he opened the door and
slipped inside the room. He had never broken in anywhere before, and he felt
both guilty and exhilarated. Shazam barked loudly, and he silently urged her to
be quiet in case she alerted Zander to his presence.

All manner of electrical devices filled
the wheelhouse. Jack recognised sonar screens and a transmitter, but nothing
else. With glass windows all around, he felt vulnerable, and not wanting to
waste any time, he picked the small package up and immediately smelt the
familiar aroma of cannabis. He opened a corner and pressed his finger into the
brown substance beneath the wrapper. It felt soft, which meant it was fresh
cannabis resin. He didn’t know how, but Zander was smuggling drugs.

Although it was tough to break, he
managed to tear a chunk off before wrapping the package back up.

With the cannabis safely in his pocket,
Jack scurried out of the wheelhouse, ran across the boat, and scrambled up onto
the quay. Shazam bounded across to meet him and licked his hand.

Satisfied no one had seen, Jack turned,
intending to find somewhere quiet to roll a joint, only to find Lillian Brown
standing before him. Before he could react, the old woman grabbed his arm and
squeezed until he squealed.