Michael Bray - Feed

‘What the hell was that?’ Tyler said as he yanked off his mask and tossed it across the deck. ‘You fucking left me down there.’

Nash glared at them both then stared at the console which showed the red blip approaching. ‘You don’t know what you’ve done. It followed you, you assholes, it followed—’

The boat exploded from the rear, splintering into fragments as the prehistoric missile slammed into it from the rear. Tyler was launched into the air, arms flailing, unaware that he was screaming. An image from a nature programme he had seen some years earlier popped into his mind about killer whales and the way they would toss seals into the air before they killed them. There was no time to develop the thought, because gravity had taken over and he impacted the water, hitting the surface hard and taking an impulsive breath, he swallowed in a mouthful of sea water and starting to choke, slipping beneath the surface as debris started to rain down around him for the destroyed boat. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t swim or keep his head above the surface.

This is it. This is where I die.

The thought didn’t worry him as much as he thought for the simple reason that this way was better. Better than suffering in the jaws of the monster shark which was punishing them for daring to encroach on its territory. Tyler slipped under, enveloped in the black calm of unconsciousness as the chaos and destruction continued around him.

II

Nash was, in that instant, transported back thirty years. He tread water, coughing and blinking his good eye as he watched the boat begin to list to at the stern. He knew this scene. It had played out in his mind hundreds of times. The chill bite of the water, the feeling of the eternal depths below him, the groan as the boat began its journey to its final resting place. And of course, the shark. The demon from his nightmares come to life in the real world for the second time. Its massive head was out of the water, snapping at the debris spilling from the boat. Nash was mesmerised. Even though he never doubted its existence, to see it in front of him again in all its horrific glory was something beyond his ability to comprehend. Like him, it wore scars on its body, a mark of a creature that survived against all odds. It seemed they were not too dissimilar. He wondered how it would feel when it took him. If it would hurt, if he would be aware of those huge serrated teeth shredding his flesh, or if his life would just cease to exist, snuffed out in an instant. There was no fear, no conscious thought of survival, just peace that at last the lifetime of fear would be over. The shark would finish what it started all those years ago.

‘Dad, come on,’ Liam screamed from somewhere behind him. Nash ignored it. He watched the beast, his nemesis, the monster that had plagued both every waking moment and his nightmares, too, as it attacked the boat again, hurrying its journey to join the others in the graveyard beneath the surface.

‘Dad!’ Liam screamed. Nash blinked and whatever spell that had transfixed him was broken. He looked over his shoulder at his son, who was already out of the water and in the Zodiac. He had the unconscious Tyler under the arms and was struggling to pull him out of the water. ‘Swim, you’ve got to swim over and help me. I can’t pull him out on my own.’

Nash heard him, but in his mind, he was thirty years younger. ‘Huddle together. Keep still and in a pack,’ someone had shouted. Too young to argue and too afraid to wonder if the command was right or wrong, the young Nash had complied. They all did. Even when the water turned red and they were picked off in threes and fours.

‘Dad, goddamn it,’ Liam screamed, snapping Nash back to the present. ‘I’m letting him go, I’m coming to get you.’

‘No,’ Nash screamed, paddling towards the Zodiac. ‘Don’t do that.’ He swam to the Zodiac, all the time waiting for the beast to claim him, and in doing so, close the thread of that particular story. Nash arrived at the side of the zodiac, the yellow inflatable bobbing on the surface. Nash tried to climb out, but his broken body was too weak for him to pull himself over onto the boat.

‘Let me drop him. He’s unconscious anyway, it will be quick for him. Let me help you.’

Nash ignored him. He wrapped his good arm around Tyler’s legs and pushed as Liam pulled, together the two of them able to get the dead weight out of the water. Nash risked a glance behind him, hoping to see the shark, but it had gone along with the boat, which had slipped beneath the waves.

‘Pull me out,’ he grunted, his legs tiring. Liam grabbed him and pulled, but Nash’s clothes were waterlogged, the ocean reluctant to give up its grip. Nash could sense the shark below him. He imagined he could feel the pull of displaced water as the Megalodon circled, ready to launch its attack. It was this pure fear which made his adrenaline surge, and with a roar of defiance, he managed to swing one leg over onto the nine foot inflatable, Liam underneath him. They sat there floating in the debris field, both of them unable to do anything but stare as the six foot, slate-coloured dorsal fin broke the surface. Nash stared at it as it circled the inflatable, the current made by its wake pulling them into a slow rotation so that the fin was never out of eye contact. Once again, Nash went into a trance-like state, staring at the creature he referred to as his nemesis, any doubt he had imagined or overcompensated for the size of the creature dispelled. The Megalodon’s head broke the surface, a triangular wedge of horrific proportions. Nash had heard about this in white sharks who would lift their head out of the water to spot their prey. The shark stared at them with its black, lifeless eye, and Nash’s milky eye looked right back at it, the sense of helplessness in the presence of a superior predator complete and undisputed. Time lost all sense of meaning. For Nash, nothing else existed. He wondered if the shark remembered if it was able to recall the last time they faced off. The moment was broken when Liam pulled the chord for the engine, the outboard motor spluttering to life with a whine as the water churned.

‘No, don’t do that!’ Nash screamed, but it was already too late. The vibrations of the motor reached the Megalodon in seconds, causing it to go into attack mode. Liam swung the boat away from the shark, his eyes wild with fear as the Zodiac bounced over the waves. On the horizon, almost lost as the last of the daylight faded, was the shape of one of the small islands jutting out of the water. Liam aimed for it, powering the Zodiac at full speed. Nash was mesmerised, watching the immense dorsal fin slice through the water and closing the distance to them.

‘We’re going to make it,’ Leam screamed, his hair flapping in the wind, voice high and shrill. ‘We’re going to be fine, we’re going to—’ He was cut off and the lightweight raft was hit from underneath and launched into the air, it’s passengers with it. Before he made contact with the water and faced the certain death that awaited them, Nash found a split second to be jealous of Tyler. At least he was unconscious and would feel no pain. Any further thought was cut off as he hit the water and waited for his turn to die.

Tyler coughed, rolling onto his side and spitting up seawater onto the rocks. His face was hot, blistered by the sun as waves broke against the formation he was sprawled on, showering him with spray. He had no idea where he was, nor any recollection of how he arrived there. He sat up, squinting at the ocean, then over his shoulder. Nash and Liam sat further up the shale ‘beach’ before the small island transformed into boulders. Island, was, in fact, too strong a word. Tyler turned back to the ocean, then squinted at the gorgeous blue sky.