A large wave washed across the starboard bow. The boat listed precariously.
McKenzie jumped up and grabbed his knife. A small grin altered his expression as he opened the blade. “What are those things?”
“I told you, they’re what took your drugs.”
McKenzie narrowed his eyes. “If this is some fuckin’ sort of joke… if you’re fuckin’ with me…Right, let’s go see how they like the taste of cold steel.” Then he turned, ran towards the door and disappeared outside.
Although not a religious man, Zander said a prayer then picked up his shotgun and followed McKenzie outside.
The wind roared around him, sea spray stinging his face. McKenzie ran on in front, slipping across the deck. He reached the nearest Fangtooth and started stabbing it with the knife. The blade pierced its body and the creature slashed out in retaliation, raking its wicked claws across McKenzie’s arm, tearing cloth and parting flesh.
Zander raised his weapon and pulled the stock into his shoulder. He tensed his finger on the trigger and aimed, but couldn’t get a clear shot as McKenzie kept bobbing in his way.
“Get down,” Zander roared.
McKenzie dropped to the deck and Zander pulled the trigger, peppering the creature’s chest with lead shot.
As McKenzie stood up, he grasped his arm, wincing. Blood rained from his injury, splashing the deck with lurid patterns
“Take that, you son of a bitch,” Robinson shouted as he lashed out with a gaff hook.
Zander fired at a couple of creatures scrambling over the net, punching them back into the water. But behind those came more. Lots more and he couldn’t reload fast enough to keep up.
One of the creatures lurched forwards. McKenzie slashed at it with the knife, but the creature ducked underneath the attack and sank its teeth into his stomach. McKenzie screamed, the sound reaching an ear-splitting crescendo as it tore its head back, ripping out a chunk of flesh. Loops of purple intestine and viscera slopped out onto the deck. McKenzie staggered for a moment, then collapsed in a heap.
Oblivious to Zander, the creature dropped down onto all fours and started chewing on the wound it had inflicted. Zander opened fire, lead shot tearing through the creature’s body.
McKenzie scrabbled around on deck, trying desperately to push his intestines back into his stomach. “Help me,” he whined.
Zander gritted his teeth. McKenzie was beyond saving. He levelled the barrel at McKenzie’s head, finger tensed on the trigger. Despite his hatred of the man, he had never killed anyone before, and even though it would be a mercy killing, he couldn’t do it. He exhaled and lowered the weapon. Shook his head.
McKenzie scrunched his face up in pain. “Please,” he said.
Before Zander could reply, Jim ran past and rammed his knife into McKenzie’s chest.
“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” Jim said.
The boat listed, throwing Brad across the room. He picked himself up, heard the ear-piercing scream over the sound of the engines and he vaulted across the machinery, donned his oilskins and headed up towards the deck. What was going on up there?
The first thing he saw when he stepped out onto the deck was Zander firing from the hip. Then on the deck he saw McKenzie’s eviscerated body, next to which lay a dead creature, its body slick with blood and seawater.
The rest of the crew was back peddling against the tide of creatures surging up the net.
Brad sprinted across the deck and grabbed the fire axe from the side of the wheelhouse.
Movement to his left caught his eye and he raised the axe, prepared to deliver a deathblow when a voice shouted, “Stop. It’s me.”
Brad focused his gaze and stared at Robinson. He shook his head. “I fucking nearly killed you, you idiot.”
Jim appeared behind Robinson. “Might have knocked some sense into him at least.”
Robinson whirled on Jim. “Now’s not the time for your sarcastic comments.”
“Might not get another chance,” Jim cackled. His expression changed. “Behind you,” he screeched.
Brad turned and glared at the creature making its way towards them across the deck. It walked on all fours until it was about seven feet away, then it raised itself up to stand on its rear legs in an almost humanlike way. It opened its mouth impossibly wide, revealing long, sharp fangs. Brad could see down its ribbed throat – it was like staring into the bowels of hell, the teeth the gates to Hades.
“Come on you mother,” he said between clenched teeth. “If you wanna piece of me, come and get it.”
The creature scurried forwards, head thrust out, mouth open ready to bite.
Brad heard a scream, thought it might have been Robinson but couldn’t be sure. Well, nothing on this earth was going to make him scream like a baby. Not when he could make it scream first.
With expert timing, he swung the axe up and around with all his strength. The sharp blade struck the creature on what purported to be its neck. Brad clenched his teeth against the bone jarring pain that shot along his arm, but he didn’t stop following through. The creature didn’t even have time to blink as the axe severed its head clean off. The headless creature still moved forwards at an alarming speed, and Brad stepped quickly aside. A geyser of blood gushed out of its neck, spraying the deck with gore as it sailed by. Brad felt a sense of power, and he was about to whoop with joy when he heard another scream. What was it with Robinson? Brad never thought of him as a big crybaby before. He turned, about to tell Robinson to can it, but the words died in his throat.
One of the creatures had Robinson’s arm in its mouth. It shook its head from side to side, and Brad heard the bone-sickening crunch as it chewed straight through Robinson’s arm.
Without the creature pulling against him, Robinson fell back. Blood gushed from the stump of his arm, spraying the air around him like a fire hose. At his side, Jim could only stand and stare. Blood spurted over his face to cover it like a gory mask.
Robinson’s scream was the most disturbing thing Brad had ever heard. Spurred into action by the sound, he swung the axe around and buried it in the creature’s head, splitting it in two like a ripe watermelon. The creature slumped to the deck, and globs of brain matter poured through the split in its skull.
The creature writhed on the ground, its talon tipped hands clenching in spasms, and Brad slammed the axe into its chest, opening up a large cavity out of which gushed a snake of innards.
He placed a foot on the creature and yanked the axe out, then he looked up and saw two of the creatures charging towards him, jaws open wide and fangs hinged ready to bite.
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.