The Conch Shell of Doom (38 page)

A thumping sound came from beneath the ocean’s surface, sending ripples through the salt water. Something big had to be down there. The first thump seemed to restart time, which included the pain in everybody’s ears.

“What’s that?” Alexis asked, hands over her ears.

“Huh?” Bailey saw her mouth something, but he couldn’t tell what she said.

Franklin rejoined them. Hands at his side, he seemed unaffected by the shell. “You really don’t want to know.”

“What?” Marshall shouted.

Franklin pointed at Trenton and then made a throat slitting motion and stuck out his tongue.

Marshall understood it immediately. “I got you. We’re about to die.”

Franklin gave him a thumb’s up. “Most likely.”

Bailey noticed some weird black spots in the sky farther down the beach. They were smaller than most clouds and even moved faster. He tried to count them, but there were too many. Something else about the clouds seemed odd. It looked like they had wings. And they were coming right toward them.

Bailey pointed at the moving clouds, the pain in his ears settling to a manageable level. “Don’t tell me he has an air force.”
 

“Seriously?” Tim’s shoulders dropped when he saw what Bailey pointed at. “It’s not fair.”

Alexis picked up on what they were watching. “When it rains, it pours.”

“You.” Trenton pointed at Bailey with the blade, eyeballing him up and down. “You’re the reason my host gave his life for mine. You’ll make a fine sacrifice.”

“That necessary?” Percy asked. “You’ve already got a body.”

“Look at this body.” Trenton laughed at his new minion and then showed off his arm. It was getting blacker. “Franklin destroyed my flesh. If I want to live again forever, I need a sacrifice. A virgin sacrifice.”

The thumping from the ocean got louder. The vibrations went through Bailey’s shoes and his legs. A fin broke the surface of the ocean. And another. Then another. In front of them, rows of sand people emerged. Some wore starfish-like armor, and others carried whips made of eels. Dirty water dripped from their bodies. The first row stopped mere feet from Bailey and his friends, with each successive group falling in line close behind. Bailey couldn’t see the fifth row, but he didn’t doubt they were out there, inches underwater, waiting for their turn.

“Now there are sand soldiers?” Julie asked.

“Damn it,” Marshall pouted. “How can this shit get more messed up? How?”

Bailey’s parents pushed him closer to Trenton, whose skin kept worsening. Bailey watched in horror as Trenton’s new body darkened and thinned, exposing muscles that were brown and black. Some of his teeth were even starting to turn brown.

“We offer this sacrificial virgin to you,” Wanda said. “So that you may live forever.”

“I don’t offer it.” Bailey remembered how his mother picked him up by the throat at their house. They were too strong to let him escape. “Why can’t he take one of those sand people?”

Trenton ignored Bailey’s comment. “I accept this sacrifice.”

His parents moved away from their son, giving Trenton plenty of room to operate. Bailey glanced at each of them, feeling like he’d been stranded in the middle of the desert. Trenton moved toward Bailey, who stutter-stepped, trying to find somewhere to go. There wasn’t anywhere.
Shit,
he thought.
Is this really it
? The followers cheered and clapped as Trenton thrust the ceremonial knife forward. Bailey winced and closed his eyes, hoping the stabbing wouldn’t hurt too much.
 

Odd.

The stab didn’t hurt. In fact, Bailey didn’t feel a thing. He glanced down at his stomach. The blade didn’t even leave a mark on Ares’s armor. Bailey let out a long, slow breath, never more thankful for Greek mythology. The armor also sparked his memory. Those weren’t clouds with wings approaching. They were Birds of War.

Badass.
The whistle actually worked.

“Yeah!” Bailey pumped his fist in the air as he shouted and then immediately regretted it. His friends looked at him, surprised at the cheesy outburst. Even Trenton laughed.

“I was going to let you bleed out before taking your head. No matter.”

Bailey pointed at the Birds of War. “You sure about that?”

Ares’s flock descended upon the crowd, flying just out of reach. They were big enough for a person to ride, with thick brown feathers and claws at least a foot long. Bailey watched them pass overhead and then turn around for another run.

The birds tore through the sand army with their claws, leaving clumps of sand in their wake. One of the birds grabbed Trenton, knocking over Deckland, Percy, and even Bailey’s parents in the process. Free for the moment, Bailey watched the bird carry Trenton, with the Conch Shell of Doom in hand, far over the horizon, and let go of him. Percy tried to shoo off another bird that pecked at him with its beak. The other followers cowered, covering their heads with their hands.

Franklin motioned toward the street. “Let’s go.”

Franklin led the group back to the road. With Trenton in the drink, his followers were in free fall, too wrapped up in trying to keep Ares’s Birds of War from nipping their faces off to do anything. Bailey looked back at the chaos, relieved he’d caught a break. That relief disappeared the second some of the sand soldiers broke through the birds’ attack and gave chase.
 

Bailey cradled the whistle in his hand, doubtful it would work a second time.
 

Franklin nudged Bailey. “Enjoy the scenery later. We need to go.”
 

“Real quick. What kind of birds are they?”

“
Ornithes Areos
is the scien—mythology-,” Franklin stammered. “They’re just big giant birds, okay? We have to go.”
 

“Why?” Julie asked. “Except for the sand things coming for us, everyone we need to stop is right there, getting pecked to death.”

“We can only destroy Trenton with the blade.” Franklin glanced up and down the street. “Which we don’t have. Hence, we need to flight and fight another day.”

“Wait. Do you mean this blade?” Tim held up the weapon like it wasn’t a big deal.

“You beautiful, sneaky little bastard.” Franklin’s eyes watered. A little. Not too much. He probably wouldn’t have admitted it anyway.
 

Tim jutted out his chin, more than a little proud of himself. “I told you I was a ninja.”

“We never doubted you for a second,” his father said.

Franklin could’ve kissed Tim. And he did. Right on the forehead.

“Gross,” Tim yucked. “I’m not a geisha.”

“I thought we were in a hurry?” Marshall pointed at the beach. “Those sand men are still coming.”

Franklin ran across the street, past a row of parked cars. The others joined him. Franklin pounded his fist on the hood of a Hyundai.
 

“What now, fearless leader?” Bailey asked.

“We’ve got the knife, but those guys are a problem.” Franklin looked beyond the approaching soldiers at the ocean. “Those sand bags are only the first wave of Trenton’s army.”

Bailey bit his lips.
Fantastic.
There were only, oh, already about a thousand sand soldiers on the beach. The Birds of War continued their attack, but for every grunt that was destroyed, two more emerged from the ocean.

“And we’re not getting through them without some help,” Franklin said.

Debbie clanged her garden hoes together. “Want me to tend to them?”

Franklin raised his eyebrows. “I like your spirit, but those things won’t help you. You’re better off getting rid of them.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Chuck grabbed the hoes then tossed into some nearby bushes.

Debbie was not pleased. “You—”

Franklin winked at her. “The bat, too.”

“Oh, come on,” Chuck complained. His wife grabbed the bat and flung it into the same bushes. “Not Thunderboy.”

“What are those future pieces of glass going to do, send us a dream?” A starfish flew into the Acura nearest Marshall. Everyone jumped back.

“Loose lips, Marshall.” Franklin watched one of the sand soldiers pull a starfish off its body and hurl it at them, nicking Tim’s cheek and leaving a small gash.

Debbie rushed to her son, surveying the damage, like he was a vase someone dropped. He waved her off.
 

“I’m fine, Mom.” Tim held a hand to the cut. “Leave it alone.”
 

Debbie took a Band-Aid out of her pocket and gave it to him. “Just in case.”

Franklin saw a large SUV down the street. “Let’s move.”

Several starfish flew into parked cars, and one even whistled over Bailey’s head, as the group rushed for the SUV, which gave them a little more cover.

“Be careful. Those things will take your arm off,” Franklin said. “I’ve seen it happen.”

“You don’t say.” Tim wiped blood off his face.

“We’re not getting through them,” Franklin said. “We could get over them, if we had a tank.”

“Would that work?” Alexis pointed at the ice cream truck parked on the far side of the parlor, three blocks away. Its rear hung out into the street.

“It’ll have to.” Franklin peeked around the SUV’s front bumper. The sand soldiers were maybe ten yards away. The ones bringing up the rear flew up in the air, like a bowling ball crashing through pins. “Damn.”

“What?” Bailey asked.

“The second wave is here.” Franklin hated these things. The sand soldiers were nothing compared to them. “Sharks that can run on land. And they don’t even stop to use the restroom.”

Everyone glanced over the SUV to take a look. The sharks had silver, glistening bodies, powerful legs, and arms topped with razor-sharp fins. Trenton used the sand soldiers to weaken an enemy’s front line and then called in those bad boys to break through. They barreled through the first wave of Trenton’s army, led by a particularly nasty looking shark that was at least eight feet tall. It had a large, pointy-edged nose and exposed insides, like the skin had been ripped off.

“The hell is that?” Bailey asked.

Franklin dropped his head, cursing under his breath. “Goblin shark.”

Chuck and Debbie flinched as a starfish bounced off the front windshield and zipped past them.

Marshall’s mouth fell open. “That’s a thing?”

Chuck gawked at the thing. “It looks like Jaws went to hell and came back in a horror movie.”

“I hate those things. Come on.” Franklin and the others made a beeline for the ice cream shop.

The group was padding the distance between them and the sand soldiers, but Franklin mainly worried about the goblin shark. Metal crashed into metal behind them. He glanced back to see a car flip across the road into another, courtesy of the skinless fish.

A Porsche flew over everyone’s heads. Alexis shrieked. The car rolled end-over-end down the street, coming to a stop just past the ice cream parlor. Franklin knew their plan wouldn’t work. The sand soldiers didn’t stand a chance against the truck, but the truck didn’t stand a chance against Trenton’s second wave.

Franklin knew they needed a diversion. He took Julie by the arm. “You’re with me. The rest of you get that truck going.” He stepped out into the street, waving his arms and shouting at the goblin shark to get its attention. The thing made too wide of a turn to go after Franklin, slipping and crashing through a storefront, emerging seconds later with only a couple of scratches and a lot more anger. Julie shot at the pink monster. Buckshot tore through its body, but that didn’t slow the beast down.
 

Franklin called to Chuck. “Get that truck working and then pick us up.”

“Aye aye.”

“Where are you—” Bailey began, but Franklin and Julie didn’t stick around to listen. The two of them bolted into a neighborhood across the street from the beach, stopping at the front porch of a house to catch their breath.

“That thing kept moving, even after I hit it.” Julie reloaded her shotgun. “Truth. Are we screwed?”

“Truth?” Franklin leaned against a pillar with chipped paint. “You don’t want me to answer that.”

A man in his forties wearing khaki pants and a
Panama Jack
shirt came outside with a kitchen knife, scaring the two of them. His nostrils flared.

“Off my porch, you damn looters,” he said. “Think I’m stupid enough to leave town, so you bums can walk into my home and help yourselves to whatever you want?”

“Sir, please—” Franklin started. A loud crash interrupted him. Large pieces of wood, and even a toilet bowl, flew down the street beside the house. The goblin shark was closing in.

“Like I said, get off my property.” The man rushed back inside his house and slammed the door.

Franklin moaned. “Why does everything have to be such a production?”

“Been my experience that’s just how life goes.” Julie cocked the shotgun’s barrels closed. “Would a head shot take care of that thing?”

“Possibly. It’s going to have a lot of momentum built up, so make sure it doesn’t crash into you.”

“Wonderful.” Julie stepped off the front porch. “I could use a drink. Or three.”

“If we get through this, I’ll buy you as many drinks as you want.” There was an even closer crash. Franklin jumped off the front porch and took off running. “I’ll draw it out. Stay here and wait. You’ll know when to shoot.”

Julie’s expression dropped. “No, you’re not—”

He pointed at a large oak tree. “Hide behind this. I won’t be long. I hope.”

Franklin rushed onto the street, screaming and waving his hands. The goblin shark caught sight of him and gave chase. Franklin darted onto someone’s property, past their house, and into the backyard. He could hear the goblin shark’s heavy footsteps getting closer, when he stopped.

Shit!

A white fence surrounded the backyard. Franklin tried to jump it in one move, but he slipped on the wet grass and fell. There was a loud crash behind him. The shark wasn’t even bothering to sidestep the house. Franklin jumped again, gained some footing, and climbed over. A hoarse, guttural roar came from the monstrous fish. Franklin moved too fast over the fence for his coordination and landed face down on the other side, his knee crashing onto a rock with a hollow thud. Ignoring the pain, he rolled to the left, barely missing the shark as it made mincemeat of the fence.