by Derek Gunn
He opened one eye slightly and kept watch as the dishevelled figure returned and checked on them. The man moved with a confidence that had not been there before and he crossed the room quickly, almost cat-like, as he checked on his charges. Butler saw him frown as he counted the bodies and, when he turned away to look for the missing body, Butler struck.
He grabbed the nearby lamp and brought it crashing down towards the man’s exposed neck. The man turned so quickly that the lamp nearly missed him entirely but, even his uncanny reactions, were not enough to dodge it completely. The lamp shattered against the side of his head and the glass tore a ragged line from his eye down to his neck. Butler stumbled as his momentum carried him too far and he tripped over Purcell’s limp form and crashed heavily to the ground.
Sharp pain lanced up his legs as he landed on pieces of shattered glass from the broken lamp and then the other man was on him. Butler saw a shadow to his left and shot his arm up without thinking, just in time to deflect a cruel-looking knife in his attacker’s hand. The blade gauged a deep cut, ripping the sleeve of his uniform and cutting into the soft flesh beneath. It was frightening how quick his attacker was, he hadn’t even seen the man move. Now, with his hand straining against the man’s downward motion, he realised that his attacker was merely playing with him. The man smiled at him as he forced the blade ever closer to Butler’s face with contemptuous ease. Butler had been lucky with the first blow but there was no way he could survive against such speed and strength.
Butler almost retched at the foul stench that seemed to emanate from the man and then his senses became aware of another, more potent smell. His attacker noticed it too and Butler saw a sudden glow in the man’s eyes as his attention shifted to Butler’s wound.
There was just a moment when his attacker seemed to go into a trance, as if under a spell. His mouth drooled and he seemed to lose interest in his victim as he began to lean towards Butler’s arm. Butler focused all his strength in one last desperate lunge and he shot his arms up, pushing his attacker back. As soon as he felt the man’s weight shift he twisted violently to the side. His attacker, surprised by the sudden movement, lost his balance and flew back into the fireplace.
Butler jumped to his feet and drew his sword as he rushed to press his advantage. His attacker was already on his feet and Butler faltered for a second as he realised that he hadn’t even seen the man move. He was too committed to his attack though so he bellowed a cry and swung the weapon in a downward, cutting motion. The man ducked low, but Butler’s wickedly sharp blade glanced off the back of the man’s head, tearing flesh and hair from his skull, before continuing on and slicing deeply into the man’s spine.
Butler was dimly aware that there was little or no blood from the terrible damage he had inflicted and then the man’s forward momentum sent them both sprawling to the ground.
Butler grunted painfully as the man landed on top of him and he offered up a prayer as he braced himself for his attack. But it never came. For a second, confusion clouded his mind and then he noticed that, although the man still grunted in anger and glared balefully at him, his body lay limply across his own.
Butler strained against the man’s dead weight and finally pushed him to the side. He rose unsteadily and looked down at the wretched figure. His sword had cut the spinal column and, although the man was very much aware, his body was no longer able to respond, despite his uncanny abilities.
‘What are you?’ Butler asked breathlessly as he studied the man’s hate-filled eyes.
‘You will never get off this island,’ the man tried to spit but there was no moisture in his mouth. ‘My master will come soon and then you will all die.’
Butler shivered. If there were more like him then they would indeed overcome his small party with ease. Just then he heard a scraping at the window and he raised his sword to meet this new threat. He had a brief flash of a small, frightened face and redirected his downward lunge by mere inches from the terrified Midshipman and imbedded the blade into the stone beside him.
‘S…sir?’ Hackett stammered as he stared wide-eyed at the quivering blade and Butler smiled despite the strange situation.
‘Sorry, Mister Hackett. It’s been a strange day. Can you go fetch Sergeant Casey and the others? We’ll have to carry our colleagues.’
‘That’s just it, sir. That’s what took me so long. They’re all asleep, drugged, looks like. I can’t wake them. There’s only Johnson left awake,’ he stammered and indicated the shocked crewman behind him.
Butler felt his heart sink as he heard the boy’s faltering report. Outside the sun continued its ineluctable journey down behind the horizon. Shadows lengthened and a cold breeze crept through the open window and tugged at his torn shirt. He shivered, but whether it was from the cold or the feeling of impending doom, he couldn’t tell.
Lieutenant Fowler slammed his hand on the taffrail and muttered a curse. It would be fully dark in less than an hour and still there was no word from the island. Already the Governor’s residence was hard to make out in the growing dusk and he still hadn’t seen any signs of life in the village. There were no lights or fires anywhere else on the island either.
‘Mister Fletcher,’ he snapped at the fourth Lieutenant, ‘ready the launch and assemble ten of the crew.’ The young officer seemed about to say something but thought better of it when he saw his superior’s worried frown. ‘Oh, Mister Fletcher,’ he called after the retreating officer, ‘issue weapons to the men.’ Fletcher nodded and rushed off to carry out his orders.
Fowler settled back to watching the island with renewed impatience. If he was wrong then he could expect the captain to bawl him out, he might even mark it in the log if he was so inclined. But Fowler was prepared to take the risk. Hang the captain’s anger, he decided. Something was wrong and he was damned if he would just stand by and do nothing. He slapped the taffrail again as if to emphasise the point and then hurried below to get his pistol and sword.
‘We’ll have to carry them, then,’ Butler decided and motioned for the others to climb into the room. Hackett scrambled in through the opening easily but Johnson was far too big. ‘You’ll have to come around, Johnson,’ Butler advised and then turned abruptly as he heard a throaty chuckle behind him.
‘Told ya. You’ll never get off this island,’ his attacker still lay where he had left him. ‘Not alive anyway.’
Butler strode to the man’s side in two quick steps and looked down with contempt. ‘This is your last chance, man. Help us and I will see that your wounds are cared for. I will also see what I can do for you with the authorities.’
‘You really have no idea what you’re facing do you?’ the man laughed. ‘Your precious authority holds no weight here.’
‘Then God help you,’ Butler replied calmly and raised his sword.
‘This island is under the dominion of one far more powerful than your pitiful God. I’ll see you in Hell,’ the man sneered before Butler’s sword sliced down and neatly removed his head.
‘Okay,’ he sighed as he turned back to his pale Midshipman. ‘Get Captain Purcell’s feet and we’ll drag him to the boat. Johnson,’ Butler looked up as the crewman arrived through the doors, ‘take Mister Winfield if you can and follow us. Hurry now, night is coming and I want to be away from here.’
Butler ignored the men’s confused looks. He could see the burning questions in their eyes but their discipline was too strong to question their captain. Butler longed to reassure them, to give them some understanding of the day’s events and what they could expect. But the truth was that he just did not know what was going on and if he showed any weakness or uncertainty then their confidence in him would be shattered. The men moved to their unconscious colleagues and they began to drag them back to the gig. They would never get all of the landing party back to the boat before darkness fell but they would try to get as many as possible.
What would happen when the darkness wrapped its shroud over the island, he had no idea, but he was
certain that he didn’t want to be anywhere near when it happened?
They met the second shore party half-way down the incline. The evening may have been cool but the three men sweated profusely from their exertions and looked bedraggled as Lieutenant Fowler and his party ran the final few feet to greet them.
Butler sighed in relief as he saw his first Lieutenant stoop to relieve him of Captain Purcell’s limp body. ‘Mister Fowler,’ he gasped as he sucked in great breaths, ‘I have never been so pleased to see one of my officers disobey my orders.’
Fowler grinned and his face appeared to lose years as the stress of the last few hours disappeared. ‘The rest of the party are in the grounds. We must be gone before dark.’
Butler could see the questions in the lieutenant’s eyes but they just didn’t have time for discussion. Already the sun was almost below the horizon and patches of the path were already steeped in darkness from the shadow of the looming forest.
Fowler snapped orders to his party and the men ran up the incline and disappeared through the gate.
By the time they reached the gig the sun had set. One of the men lit a number of torches from the fire in the village and placed one near the gig and the others he placed in the sand a few feet apart to light the way to the boat for the others.
‘Scuttle the other boats,’ Butler ordered as they lowered Purcell into the gig and then strode back towards the village to help the others who still struggled with their sleeping burdens.
Suddenly there was a scream from the direction of the residence and everyone stopped to look back. ‘For God’s sake, hurry,’ Butler shouted at the men and they snapped their attention back to the boats and increased their pace. Crewmen who had deposited their loads rushed back to help others but continued to throw fearful glances back towards the house. There was a taint of fear in the air that was almost tangible and the darkness seemed to press in on them. The men were on the verge of panic. Butler had seen them face impossible odds before but that had been against a foe they could see, even one that defied belief. This darkness shielded their attackers and courted their fears, allowing their imaginations to fill the inky blackness with untold horrors.
‘Steady men,’ Butler forced his voice to remain calm, although his own body shook in terror. He imagined the darkness filled with men as fast and vicious as their host and he despaired.
‘Load pistols,’ he ordered the men behind him and heard them fumble for their weapons. He heard more than one pistol clatter to the deck with a curse but he remained on watch at the head of the group, resolute against the darkness.
Suddenly he saw movement and Butler raised his sword and then relaxed slightly as two crewmen appeared carrying an unconscious marine. ‘There’s only Jackson left behind us, sir,’ the man gasped as he struggled past his captain and Butler felt his own spirits rise.
An ungodly scream filled the darkness. It sounded as if it came from directly in front of him and then the first of their attackers appeared at the fringes of the flickering torch-light.
‘Fire!’ he shouted and jumped as he felt the shots scream past him. ‘Into the boats,’ he ordered and paled as he saw a number of figures stumble back as they were hit but then regain their balance and continue towards them.
He backed away towards the boat and felt reassuring hands guide him into the gig. The boat pitched dangerously on the agitated water and the growing storm threatened to capsize the boat. A second volley of shots erupted but it was more ragged and failed to make much impact as many of the shots went wild. The first of their attackers launched himself into the boat from an incredible distance and sent the crew sprawling. Butler caught a brief glimpse of feral eyes and ragged teeth before the man attacked a crewman beside him. The attacker snarled and ripped into the crewman’s throat with his bare teeth and then, suddenly, the attacker was sent flying into the water. Butler looked up to see Lieutenant Fowler on his knees with an oar held tightly in his grasp. ‘Are you alright, sir?’
‘I’m fine,’ Butler replied, ‘get the men rowing as quickly as possible. We must warn the ship.’ He heard another scream from the other boat. What was that thing? He thought as he struggled towards the stern. The waves grew higher the further they drew from the shore. Although the harbour offered shelter to the ship, a small craft like the gig was tossed about with every swell. Butler finally reached the stern and scanned the darkness for any movement. He knew that the depth below them grew very steep close to shore so a concerted attack on their boat would be difficult for any force, especially in such dangerous waters. However, this enemy appeared to be far from normal. He remained where he was, constantly scanning their wake until he felt the gig knock against the hull of the ship.
Only then did he allow himself to move.
Chapter 4
‘But why don’t we attack tonight?’
Sir John Milton shot out his arm and grabbed the man who had spoken by the throat. ‘No!’ he snapped. ‘There will be too many killed if we attack now.’
‘But the storm won’t bother us,’ the man insisted. ‘We can take them easily.’
‘That is exactly the reason we will wait.’ Milton replied. ‘If this rabble is let loose on that ship they’ll slaughter the crew in a frenzy. They’re not used to the thirst yet. How will we get off this island if they’re all dead? Can you sail such a large ship?’
‘Eh…no, sir,’ the man stammered.
‘Exactly,’ Milton smiled as he released the man from his grip. ‘We are far too vulnerable on this island. There aren’t enough villagers left to sustain us for long, we must seize that ship with enough crew to sail to the nearest port. You may let the men slaughter the remaining villagers, though. They’re all but useless anyway. It seems we will have a new supply of fresh blood soon enough.’
The man braved one more attempt. ‘What if they sail off, though?’
‘Not this captain,’ Milton replied amiably. ‘I have heard reports of this Captain Butler. He’s far too conscientious to risk another, unsuspecting ship coming along while he goes off for help. No, he will wait until dawn and then come back to finish us off. But we’ll be ready. I see we have lost Perkins,’ he commented referring to the body they had found in the residence. ‘This captain is resourceful. Are the other thralls ready yet?’
‘Nearly, sir. It seems the change is harsher on those that don’t fully transform.’
‘Yes,’ Milton sighed impatiently, ‘but we are too vulnerable while the sun shines. We need them to protect us during the day. They will be rewarded later. For now get them on their feet. I have a job for them.’
‘What in God’s name were they?’ Lieutenant Peter Fowler tried to pace in the crowded, tiny wardroom and then threw up his hands in frustration and slumped back into his seat.
Butler had ordered all hands to the deck when they had come back aboard. He had sent Lieutenant Fletcher to break out the weapons and ensured that Captain Purcell’s remaining men took Lieutenant Fowler’s orders while the captain and his Sergeant were incapacitated. The drugged crew members were taken below to Doctor Sinclair along with any wounded.
He had ordered all lights extinguished and instructed his officers to keep a sharp watch on all sides for boarders while he had remained on the bridge. The moon bathed them in a weak glow that was continuously interrupted by the roiling clouds, and a cold wind cut through them as the storm continued to gather momentum out past the harbour walls.
They had remained like that for an hour. Butler was well aware what his crew must be thinking but he dared not relax their vigilance. Just one of those things would wreak havoc in the close confines of the ship. Their only hope was to repel them before they even got to the deck, that way they could use the surging water to their advantage.
After an hour though, even Butler had to admit that an attack was unlikely and he instructed half the men to stand down while he and his officers met to discuss their options. He left Midshipman Hackett in charge on deck as he wanted someone that had seen the h
orror they were up against to continue a tight watch.
‘I’m not sure,’ he began as he tried to put his thoughts in order. He brought them through the day’s events, describing everything as clearly as he could. He shuddered as he recounted his attacker’s strength and speed and left his officers pale and shocked by the time he finished.
‘It seems we are to battle dark forces once again,’ Lieutenant Fowler broke the uneasy silence. ‘We seem to attract the strange and ungodly. Do you have a plan, sir?’
Butler was amazed at how quickly the men accepted their situation. ‘With any luck the storm will continue through the night. It will be almost impossible for anything to co-ordinate an attack in this weather. If they haven’t attacked by now we might just make it to the dawn.’
‘We could set sail for Gibraltar, sir,’ Lieutenant Fletcher suggested, ‘with this wind we could be there in less than a week.’
‘No,’ Butler answered immediately, ‘we can’t risk another ship stopping for supplies while we are gone. My God, if they reach a populated area they would be a far worse threat than the creatures we have dealt with before. These things are intelligent; they are also incredibly fast and strong. I saw bullets strike a number of them and they merely continued advancing on us. We wouldn’t stand a chance.’
‘Then what can we do, sir?’ Fletcher stammered, ‘I mean, if they are that powerful, how can we hope to fight them?’
‘I’ve been thinking about that,’ Butler drummed his fingers as he scanned the faces around the table. ‘They only appeared once the sun set, so, unless I miss my guess, these things are tied to the night somehow.’
