by Jordan, G R
Tommy threw Kiera's jacket over her head.
21
Hunting Party
An acrid whiff of peat smoke filled the nostrils of each man as they took up a seat in the front room of Angus McCreedie, brother of the deceased fisherman. Due to the number, in excess of twenty, the seats in question were a variety of stools, work benches and a three piece dilapidated sofa, stilling sporting a faded seventies floral pattern. All were silent, and the ornamental clock above the mantel piece told every beat of its mechanical heart. Closest to the fire sat Angus, his son opposite, and at his shoulder the recently bailed Iain McClaren.
"Gentlemen, thank you for coming at this late hour and for your condolences for my brother. Many of us are fishermen, and those of you who are not are well aware of the dangers of the sea. We take our lives in our hands daily on the waves. But now, we have a different threat. These fish men and women, these brutal abominations, clearly not God-designed, seek us out. Rest assured, they see us as a threat to their kingdom, their fish. Well it's not theirs’."
Angus McCreedie stared into the fire as a general hum of accord passed around the room. The man behind him placed a firm hand on Angus' shoulder. His son stood up and reaching into a dresser on the side removed a large number of shot glasses. Quickly they were passed around the assembly, with a bottle of malt following to charge the glasses.
"To John, God rest his soul."
"To John," came the unanimous reply.
A second bottle was passed around. Angus took to his feet, and with one arm leaning on the mantel, his legs warming from the fire, he faced the gathered men. His eyes were heavy and his manner grim. No one spoke or coughed, all holding respect to this giant of the fishing world. In a faded black shirt, opened at the neck and in blue jeans too wide at the bottom, he surveyed each one of the men.
All good lads, he thought.
"I once heard the story of a man who had a dog with lice. He didn't believe in those fancy shampoos or cleaners and so he decided he would carefully take off every lice on the dog and make it clean again. Days he would spend hunting them, and he removed so many that the dog looked better. For a season, it was well and healthy. But then the lice came back. So the man started again.
Again he picked off every lice he could find on the dog but once again they came back the following season. For five years he repeated this. Then in his sixth year he realised one day that the dog's blanket seemed alive. The blighters were all over it. So the man burnt the blanket. This time when he had cleaned the dog, it remained clean.
Understand me, gentlemen, there are these creatures about, and we need to eradicate them. We need to search our lochs and coves for them before hunting in the sea. But know this, until we find where they are coming from, we will not defeat them, only prolong it. But tonight we hunt. We hunt mermaid. Are you with me, lads?"
And the glasses dropped their liquor to show a resounding yes.
***
Hayley was cold. Her feet had lost all feeling after the small fire built by Donald had died. It was too dark now to see anything outside, and anyway, she was determined to remain beneath the blankets. Wrapped up in a fleece she should have felt warmer, but her dip in the sea with Tink had left her chilled, and she hadn't recovered. Donald's back was up against hers and she felt the shared warmth under the blanket but this was as close as Kiera's man would allow himself to be. No wonder, she thought, it will start to look like I am hitting on him. He hadn't even complained when she had inadvertently farted.
The wind was blowing across the entrance to their small cave and the shrill sound was keeping her awake. She had been listening for Tink but had now reckoned the mermaid was asleep, probably underwater as she seemed to be capable of breathing in two fashions. How this was achieved puzzled her but without a dissection she wasn't sure any hypothesis could be confirmed. And there had been enough bodies already.
There it was. The faint sound of a car motor. And then switched off. Someone was out there. Hayley sat up to see if she could hear better, but the wind continued its whistling. There was a voice. It was faint but male. She tapped Donald gently but got no response. Reaching up, she started to tweak his ear lobe. A smack from a hand was his only reply. She bent close down to his ear and said as loud as she could, "Donald." He started to shake himself awake.
As Donald turned to her in puzzlement, she pointed outside the cave to a beam of light sweeping ahead of them. Sitting up, Donald reached for his jacket, slipping it quietly on. Two figures passed across the cave front, one thick set with a smaller, thinner legged individual walking behind.
"Don't you recognise that backside, Hayley? I know the other one," whispered Donald.
Hayley looked at him bemused.
"Tommy," shouted Donald, "she forced me in her, trying to have her wicked way."
The torch flashed around and lit up the cave. Kiera ran inside and leapt on Donald, cuddling him tightly before kissing. Tommy reached for Hayley, and they embraced.
"How was the meeting?" asked Donald.
"Bad," answered Tommy. "Well bad. Lot of fighting, the centre is pretty messed up." Kiera didn't add to this but instead climbed under the blankets and snuggled up to Donald. "Best left to tomorrow. I'm exhausted, it's three a.m."
"Good idea, Tommy, I need warming up," Hayley said, pulling Tommy even closer.
"Easy, Tiger," laughed Tommy, "I just found you in bed with another man. Explanations before fun and games, Madam!" He copped a slap to the side of his head, before some hungry arms sought him further. Sleep soon engulfed them all.
***
"Do we have enough for everyone?"
"Yes, Dad. Between shotguns, a few hunting rifles and some knives, everyone's been armed."
"Good. Son, go and bring them all together. Then we'll get this under way." Angus MacCreddie's son turned away, obeying his father's instruction while the fisherman lit a cigarette. John had been an ass of a brother, all told. Always getting himself into messes he shouldn't have, and now he'd paid for it. But this was blood, and blood had to be avenged.
Dragging around carcasses through town isn't the thing. No, this is going to turn into a cull. Pushing those beasts back from our lochs to protect our fish and waters from these invaders, shield our daughters from their topless parading of their charms—flaunting it, encouraging the young ones to be as vulgar. No, this sort of thing wasn't to be done here. So now’s the time to change it. To protect. But above all, to pay them back for John.
"Everyone's ready, Dad."
"Okay, men. You know what to do. You have your routes to follow. Keep your eyes peeled, and if you see something, telephone in. If there's no signal then use the radio. But remember code words. Phone, then radio. We can't let what we are doing get out. Not until it's done. Not until they see why we did it. Not until it's better. Good hunting!"
Slowly, a grey light was forcing back the darkness, revealing a misty morning which was damp and cold. Into this blandness of grey drove eleven vehicles, mostly off-road 4x4s, with the singular purpose to find and kill.
Looking out of her window, the octogenarian housed next to Angus McCreedie wondered what all the fuss was about. Given the events she had heard on the news, she decided not to investigate but instead to put the kettle back on.
Angus rode in the passenger seat beside his son, eyes staring ahead, pondering how long the task would take. There was little traffic on the road, not surprising for an early Monday morning. There'll probably be little traffic all day after word of the meeting at the leisure centre gets out. The radio chattered with minor reports of a few hunters arriving at their search points. No place names were used and nothing to give away anyone's identity.
Most reports will probably be by radio, thought Angus. Annoying because the messages could be intercepted but an unfortunate necessity due to the remoteness of the island and its coast.
"Golden Eagle, Puffin has seen the fish, ready to engage."
"Golden Eagle…" Angus muttered, looking
down at the map.
MacCreedie shouted at his son to head towards Vatilisker point, approximately ten miles from town. Given their current location, Angus estimated a five minute drive.
Fortune favours us then, first call and we're right beside it.
Turning down a mere track, Angus' 4x4 soon came up on a Land Rover driven by "Puffin". The muck from its route showed across the wheel hubs of the vehicle, and Angus scoured the vista for its owner. He could see him down near the water's edge behind a rock with his compatriot beside him. Lifting his binoculars, he also saw the green sheen of skin and then tail breaking the surface of the water. The red hair of the creature was long, touching where a human bottom would be, and on turning around, it was obviously a mermaid.
So, it was one of these creatures that did for John. Angus could understand the attraction of catching one, why John had tried, but he knew he wouldn't be doing the same. Slowly, he climbed out of the passenger door and grabbed his rifle from the boot. He carefully loaded his ammunition before walking quietly towards his hunters. As the wind was blowing away from the sighting, he had no fear of his smell giving his presence away. Reaching the rock, he sat down beside the hunter. The grass was wet and the ground covered in dew, but he didn't care.
"Just the one, Angus" reported the hunter. Taking position and resting his rifle on the rock and his shoulder, Angus tried to sight the creature.
Leaning the rifle into him he muttered the words, “One from John, you bitch."
The trigger was pulled, but just as it reached its full displacement, the creature moved, diving into the water as the report echoed around the loch-side.
"Dammit." Angus realised this wasn't going to be a quick hunt but more of a prolonged cull. He grabbed the binoculars again and saw her swimming out towards the open sea.
Maybe we'll need to go to boats at some point.
He knew boats would be a risk, given the mermaids’ obvious advantage. John and his crew were taken out and possibly by just the one merman. Staying on land was the safer option, and besides, they didn't have boats they could risk. You didn't pick up a fishing boat that easy. The trawlers would be too big when they needed fast out-boarders.
Telling "Puffin" well done and to continue with the search, Angus retreated back to the car. Only an hour’s hunting and a sighting already. Things were going to plan. If the boys in the town could keep the police busy, then this might just work.
22
A New Man on the Scene
Reverend Murdo McKinney opened his eyes and believed he could finally see the trees clapping their hands. A moment's squinting brought his view into true focus and a welcome face smiled warmly at him.
"How's Iron Man?"
"Laura, what…where am I?" asked Murdo. As the question left his mouth, he could smell the disinfectant and feel the courser white sheets covering his body. His backside touching the bed sheet also made him think of those open backed gowns.
"Hospital, dear. You took quite a kicking. Had me worried."
"Sorry, but they were almost on her."
"You were very brave. I expect no less from you. But you really did get thumped."
Murdo tried to sit up but his ribs stabbed at him, giving a searing pain until he lay back again. He noticed some tubes in his arm and a metal stand holding a clear liquid in a bag. His head pounded and everything had a general ache.
"Two broken ribs, Murds. Severe bruising all over. You also had some bleeding from your head but turned out not to have been anything to do with the brain. Least that's what they said to me."
"But how's the girl?"
"Little shaken, a few bruises from the odd kick you didn't get in the way of, but fine. Haven't seen her since they discharged her. Thought she might have dropped by."
"At least she's okay. That's what matters."
"Yes, but a thank you doesn't go amiss," answered Laura, puffin herself up in indignation like an angry ward sister.
They sat in silence for a while, looking out the window to the miserable, grey sky.
"There was a meeting last night too. Sounded pretty rough." Laura described the news report she had heard that morning. Trying hard to focus, Murdo struggled to believe how violent reactions had been.
"This will end in more deaths if they don't stop these mob antics. Whipping people up against mere animals. I should get out there and…"
"Like the blazes, Murdo McKinney, you will sit on your backside and work at getting better. Nothing else. You're on a time-out, mister." Murdo murmured a response but then feel silent to his wife's obviously better judgement.
Only the occasional trolley being wheeled up and down in the corridor outside was heard, allowing the couple to enjoy their peace together.
"Oh, good news. Alyssa had her operation and she's doing well. Transferring up here, anytime really. James is seeing to her, he's quite smitten. I said she could stay at ours. After all, you're going to be here for a day or two so I can get on with looking after proper invalids."
Laura gave a wry smile as Murdo cast a sullen look in her direction.
***
The morning air blew across Kiera's face as she sat beside the storm kettle waiting for the water to boil. Huddled up in Donald's coat, she watched her man wash himself in the sea water. Dipping his head in fully, he then stood up and she saw little rivulets run down his back before he mopped them up with a towel. She was so engrossed that she never heard the kettle boil but reacted instead to the fluid spitting out of the stumpy spout.
"Hey, Donald, hurry up, coffee's ready. Shout them two as well."
Donald had brought some meagre supplies with him, croissants and scones and a jar of coffee. Hayley was unable to wait until after breakfast and had ventured into the loch with Tommy to see if Tink was alright. After an explanation of how Donald had found her naked in the sea, Hayley had decided she now required some clothing when she swam and took a t-shirt of Donald's with a promise to pick up her swimsuit as soon as possible. Clearly, she was all about Tommy, so Kiera wondered why she felt threatened by Hayley being seen in the raw by Donald, especially as all it had achieved was a great deal of embarrassment. Damn, we are funny, she thought.
Tommy was keen to show off his figure and had swam in his boxers which pleased Hayley greatly. Kiera insisted that to save further embarrassment, they should exit the water just down a little bit where she would leave their clothing. Towels were another forgotten necessity. Donald sat down to his coffee, placing a protective arm around Kiera's back. Mine, she thought, all mine.
"She seems a lot friskier," announced a fully clothed Hayley, grabbing at a croissant and devouring it hungrily.
"Just like Hayley," laughed Tommy, who got a stuck-out tongue as a reply.
"How long, Hayley?" asked Donald.
"How long what?"
"Until she's good to go back. Until she no longer needs babysitting."
"Not sure, as long as it takes. Why, do you need to go?"
"No, it's just with all this hassle I want her far away, and us not in the middle of it."
The foursome quietly ate their breakfast, tiredness seeping into their bodies. Tommy was conscious of attending to the leisure centre, knowing the damage that needed to be assessed. Kiera and Donald were both free while Hayley needed to drop by the practice, although she doubted it would be open, considering the recent events. Taking a short walk to his car, Tommy returned announcing the schools were closed and that the police, due to the recent riots, had asked everyone to stay at home in order to avoid any repeat and for tempers to calm down. Hayley agreed to go to the centre with Tommy, but first she wanted to check on Tink.
Kiera watched Hayley walk along the shoreline scanning into the sea. At regular intervals she would shake her head and start staring afresh into a different sector of the loch. Tommy was hailed over and sent out in the opposite direction. After an hour, as Kiera was tidying up the camp, Hayley came back looking very anxious.
"There's no sign of her. No sign at all. I
don't think she's here."
"That's a good thing, isn't it Hayley?" asked Kiera.
"No, it's not. She was no way fit enough to be swimming back out into the sea. She was still struggling when we saw her earlier. Wounded animals never last long."
"Nothing, Hayley," said a breathless Tommy on his return. "I've checked it all along, just nothing."
"Well, she must have gone back out to sea," surmised Donald.
"No. No, no, no. That's not it, Donald. Take my word, that's not it."
"But it makes sense, Hayley," countered Kiera. "She's gone home."
"Trust me she hasn't. I can feel it. Tommy, listen to me. She hasn't."
"Okay, take it easy," said Donald. "What do you suggest?"
"We need to follow the loch edges and then check out those little lochs that this one feeds. Even the really small ones. Some of them have a depth to them that could be suitable, I think. Look, some of this I'm having to guess at because at the end of the day, Tink's a mermaid. But something isn't right, trust me."
"Okay," agreed Donald, watching Tommy wrap his arms around Hayley, "we brought you into this, so it's the least we can do to listen to you."
They decided to separate into two groups, Tommy and Hayley going east, Donald and Kiera moving west. Donald watched the couple depart as Kiera packed away the last of the basic camp into Donald's car. She then took his hand, and they started to walk the water's edge to the west. Drizzle continued to fall, and the mist came down as they rounded the edge of the loch.
"Heck, Donald, I can only see about a hundred meters. If she's way out, we won't see a thing."
"Hayley reckoned Tink wouldn't move out too far due to her injury. Still, she did admit a lot of it was guesswork, so she could be wrong."
The going was slow as their scan was constantly broken when trying to negotiate the edge of the loch, uneven and rocky as it was. Kiera slipped on one occasion and only a fast hand from Donald saved her. Alas, her shoe was not as fortunate as she dipped it fully under the water. Now as they walked, there was a squelching sound which broke the calm, peaceful silence along with the infrequent birdsong.
