HERE I SIT
Ob and Dolan limped from shadow to shadow, headed for the longboat, making the best time that they could. They heard yelling and howling behind them from many voices. Something was up. Something big. They dashed across the boardwalk and onto the pier where they had docked the longboat. It was still there.
“Tug is by the boat,” said Dolan as he peered into the distance. “He's been in a fight,” he said as they started down the long pier. “I see bodies on the deck.”
That was news to Ob. His vision was better than most people's, but the far end of the pier was dark and still a goodly ways away. He could barely even see the outline of the longboat. When they drew close, he saw Tug sitting like a grim statue. The huge seaman was perched atop a barrel and leaned on Old Fogey, the hammer's head resting on the pier boards between his legs. The torn dead were strewn around him, seaman and Evermerian alike.
“Have you seen Slaayde?” said Tug.
“Not for hours,” said Ob. “We've been snooping about, reconnoitering and such.”
Tug nodded. “My men are all dead,” he said as if it wasn't obvious. “Except for Gurt the Knife. He's in bad shape,”” he said, gesturing toward the longboat where the wounded seaman laid. “Are them islanders all monsters? The whole bunch?”
“So it seems,” said Ob. “Bloodsuckers, top to bottom.”
“That's it then,” said Tug. “No warm bed tonight. Forget about a bath.”
The howling grew louder. They heard the pounding of many feet headed toward the docks.
“Don't worry, old friend,” said Tug as he patted Old Fogey's haft. “There are more coming. We're not yet done for the night.””
“Did they jump you?” said Ob.
“There were three of them at first,” said Tug. “One was just a child. Then came another — a big one, older, tougher than the others. He knew how to fight. Then three more showed up, howling for blood — more animal than men. I gave them all what for; me and Old Fogey did,” he said patting the haft of his hammer again and pointing toward the carnage. What was left of the Evermerians was unrecognizable; every one of their heads was crushed to pulp.
“You done good, Tug,” said Ob. “Real Good. But now we best shove off, afore any more come calling.””
Tug shook his head. “Here I sit until my Captain's return, or death takes me.”
“What? Death will take you right quick, if you don't get off your duff and get in the boat,” said Ob. “They'll be on us in a minute. We need to get our behinds out of here. Dying here won't help nobody.”
Tug didn't move; he didn't react at all.
“We've got wounded here,” said Ob. “Your man's hurt bad. Dolan is hurt too. We can't stay here. We've got to push off. Get us out a ways —— out there, maybe fifty yards, maybe more. If the others show up, we'll row straight back in and get them — don't you worry.”
“Hogwash,” said Tug. “There will be no rowing back. When that lot comes howling down the strand, if we're out there, we'll have to turn tail. No choice we'd have. So I'll just sit here and wait. Me and Old Fogey. And don't get any ideas about taking the longboat. I'll need it for when the captain returns.”
“Then what are we supposed to do?” said Ob.
Tug turned and stared menacingly at the gnome. “Whatever you want, so long as you don't go near my boat.”
“Here they come,” said Dolan. “Sounds like the whole town. They're chasing somebody.”
“No doubt Mister Fancy Pants is behind it all,” said Ob.
“It's the men from the schooner,” said Dolan.
“How many?” said Ob.
“Twenty at least. Most are running for the schooner.” He paused, watching. “The blooders are jumping them, biting them, tearing them apart. There are hundreds of them. Hundreds. The whole town.”
“Tug!” said Ob. “We've got to go. We can't fight that lot.”
Tug shook his head and didn't budge from the barrel.
“The blooders are waiting for them, two piers over from the schooner,” said Dolan.
“A trap, heh?” said Ob. “It figgers.”
When the main group of seamen, nearly a dozen strong, closed on the schooner, the Evermerians sprang their trap. A dozen of their kind leaped from the shadows and set upon the sailors, claws and fangs; no mercy or reprieve. They howled in glee as they tore, drank, and killed their prey.
Another wave of seamen sprinted down the hill to the docks; they saw what happened to their fellows, turned off the boardwalk, and ran down the nearest piers. Five chose Tug's pier by chance, it seemed, since it's unlikely that they saw the longboat from where they were. Five Evermerians howled at their heels.
Dolan raised his bow as they closed.
One seaman tripped on something, stumbled, and went down. An Evermerian pounced on him, biting and slashing. The man never had a chance.
A few moments later, another Evermerian leaped forward and caught the heel of the nearest sprinting seaman, tripped him, and sent him crashing to the deck. The Evermerian leaped onto his back; his mouth opened abnormally wide and revealed his spike-like fangs. Before the seaman could react, the Evermerian bit down on the back on his neck, those fangs sinking deep, puncturing muscle and bone alike.
As the remaining seamen approached the end of the pier, Dolan let loose an arrow that struck their nearest pursuer in the throat. He fell, writhing, to the deck.
Tug stood in the middle of the pier as the seamen passed him, and pulled up, for they'd reached the far edge. Nothing but frigid black water lay beyond. Old Fogey was perched on Tug's shoulder ready for action. Brass knuckles were affixed to each of his hands.
The next Evermerian veered toward Tug. He was moving fast. Old Fogey was faster. Tug caught him in the side of the head. His skull shattered like a melon; his neck broke; what was left of his head flopped over. The force of that blow was so great that it sent his body sailing over the side of the pier. The last Evermerian came on and leaped at Tug's throat, claws first. Tug twisted and spun, avoiding the direct impact. He grabbed the Evermerian by the collar and bodyslammed him to the deck with such force that the deck boards splintered. Tug straddled him and punched him in the face. Stunned, the Evermerian put up no defense. That first blow cracked his skull and knocked him out. The second blow staved in the side of his head, finishing him. Tug scooped up the body, lifted it over his head, and dumped it into the bay.
The Evermerian that Dolan had shot was up and loping forward, slavering and fuming. It either hadn't seen what Tug had done to his comrades, or didn't care, for he displayed no fear at all.
Dolan put a second arrow in his chest. That one didn't even slow him. The third arrow took him in the middle of his forehead. He fell straight back like a falling tree and moved no more.
Tug stepped up and crushed his head with Old Fogey for good measure.
The three sailors spotted the longboat and made for it, pushing past Ob in their frenzy to escape.
“Into the boat before they swarm us,” shouted Ob.
Dolan put his bow over his shoulder and moved toward the longboat as the seamen untied the lines.
“Let's go, giant,” said Dolan. “We can't do any more here, and you're about to lose your boat.””
Tug's eyes searched the docks for any sign of his captain. He saw only the Evermerians and their prey. A few seamen had made it into the water and swam frantically from the shore or from piers. The bay was large and deserted save for a few wrecks. The swimmers had nowhere to go, save for a cold death. A few more were fighting here or there for their lives. Most were already down and being eaten.
“I'm sorry, captain,” said Tug.
Tug hauled himself over the side and into the longboat, and they set off. They'd rowed only a few strokes when they spotted a desperate battle at the end of a nearby pier. A clutch of four sailors were fighting two Evermerians. A dozen other cannibals looked on from only a few feet away. One of the seamen was Captain Graybeard. He'd procured a sword from somewhere and was holding the Evermerians back, hacking and slashing with surprising skill and an agility that belied his years. His men all had knives, but the shorter weapons were ineffective at keeping the Evermerians at bay. Ob and group rowed toward that pier, hoping to pick up the men if they swam for it. Ob and the sailors shouted for them to jump into the water, but their attention was focused on their attackers.
Captain Graybeard's slash took one Evermerian in the throat. As the Evermerian's hands clutched its neck, Graybeard stabbed him in the heart, then kicked him, and pulled the sword free. The Evermerian turned to flee, but Graybeard slashed again and nearly cut off his head, severing his spine. The Evermerian dropped. Another sprang in, and the Captain's quick upward thrust took him through the mouth, up into the brain. He fell dead immediately, the sword stuck in his skull. The Evermerians swarmed forward and Graybeard leaped into the water even as claws shredded his shirt in attempt to stop him. Two of Graybeard's fellows followed him into the water; hungry claws and teeth pulled down the third.
Minutes later, Tug and the others had Graybeard and one of his men in the longboat, the other was lost amid the frigid waves.
“Let's get farther out,” said Ob. “If those things decide to go swimming en masse or if they pull a boat out of somewhere, we'll be in the deep stuff.””
“Where's your ship?” said Graybeard as he looked around the darkened bay.
“At the far edge of the bay,” said Ob pointing. “But we've got people still ashore.”
“Pray Odin that death takes them quick,” said Graybeard.