Authors: Russ Cooper
"Uhm, yeah, what..." D. J. was distracted.
"DON'T GET OUT OF THIS CAR! DRIVE AWAY NOW!"
"Well, as you can see, Miss--"
"NO! DRIVE! NOW!
"But ma'am--"
"Enough with this ma'am stuff," bellowed Roxy. "Get out of our buggy, tramp! This ain't no 'ho' buggy! I've had it with all you sluts!"
"Now, ladies--"
"DRIVE CAR! NOW NOW NOW!"
"Drop dead! Slut slut slut!"
"Girls ... gals ..." D. J. was gesturing nervously to the front of the bashed-in buggy, which was filling with smoke. "I think we have a problem--"
"PROBLEM IS OUT THERE! EATING! COMING FOR US!
COMING FOR YOU!"
The naked girl wrapped herself tightly all over D. J. He looked over her naked shoulder, at Roxy, who was getting as steamed as the front of the buggy. "BOOM!" Roxy bellowed, and then jumped out of the buggy, running down the dune toward the ocean. "There! happy?"
"NO! DON'T! COME BACK!" the naked girl screamed--right into D. J.'s ear, breaking whatever mood might have been possible, with a naked girl on his lap and all.
"I... got to go... get her," D. J. said, part apologetic, part annoyed, as he stuck his pinky in his ear, to stop the ringing. He slithered out from under the naked girl --
"NO! IT'S OUT THERE!" --
--fell to the ground --
"NO! GET UP! IT'S
IN THE GROUND!
RUNNN!"
--got up, gave the naked girl a helpless look (oh, if this were any other circumstance), turned and ran after Roxy.
"NOOO
OO
--"
The smoke continued to billow, filling the buggy.
~ ~ ~
"Roxy! Wait!"
D. J. darted down the dune--stumbled, arms waving--but kept his balance--until he hit the bottom and started to flail, then fell--
--right on top of Roxy, knocking them both to the beach sand.
"Ooh! Get off me you creep!" She wriggled unmercifully beneath him, throwing a couple kicks in for good measure. "Why don't you go back to your naked slut girlfriend--!"
"Ooof! owch! C'mon, Roxy--
OW!
--We just met--I don't even
KNOOOW
her--ooof!"
They both rolled in separate directions. As soon as the plumes of beach sand settled, they eyed each other. Roxy, of course, was ready to give his one good working ear a nice bellow when--
"NO! IT'S
COMING!
IT'S
EATING THE CAR
--"
They both turned to see the naked girl, even more terrified than before, flailing around nudely at the top of the dune.
"--IT'S EATING EATING EATING
EEEATINNGG IT
--!"
"You stink, you know that?" Roxy said, resignedly.
"What did I do?" D. J. gave her a helpless, clueless look.
And that's when the naked girl took a step and stumbled down the dune--
--headed right for them.
When the dust plumes settled this time, Roxy just let out a big ole sigh, shook her head and said, "You know what? You two have fun. Whatever! Who knows! Who cares! I'm going for a swim. Why not! It's crazy time!"
And she stood up, dusted the beach off of her, and headed for the waves, clothes and all.
"NOO! IT'S GOING TO GET OUT! IT CAN SWIM! IT SWIMS BETTER
IN THE GROUND
--"
D. J. was on his feet now, covered with sand. He looked at the two girls, the screechy girl first--
hmmm, sure was naked
--then darted a few steps toward Roxy.
"C'mon, Roxy, don't be silly. You can't go out there at this hour. You're high, you just drank psychedelic tea, you'll get cramps or something."
"Don't care," she snapped, continuing toward the waves. "Nobody does, and I don't care about that either."
"NOOO! IT'S COMING!--!!"
"Oh, man, be like in the old-time movies and punch her in the mouth," Roxy called out. "She's driving me NUTS--"
"NOOO--" suddenly became a scream. An ear-piercing scream. An unnatural scream.
D. J. was transfixed -- Roxy, with another annoyed sigh -- "What now?" -- turned reluctantly--
And saw this:
The nude girl, up to her naked knees in beach, as if she were sinking in quicksand. The beach, rippling around her, almost as if it were water and not ground.
And, then, this: blood.
Lots of blood.
Spraying in a geyser of red, splattering all over the girl's naked body, as she whipped around in a frenzy of jerky, puzzled, panicky movements.
Roxy just went wide-eyed and froze, muttering, "No
way
--"
The naked Hooters girl went silent, her mouth popping open and shut like a fish trapped on dry land, as the blood continued to shoot up and out from the undulating sands. The girl's arms still waved, but much slower now, much more aimless, as she sank another foot or so.
The shark beast was visible now, crawling up out of the sand as it continued to devour the girl. It looked like a cross between a pitbull and a mako shark, and some sort of electric squid, with stinging tentacles whipping around crazily, along with four snapping lobster-like claws. It made no sound other than what came from the gnashing and chewing of those incredibly jagged dagger-teeth and a pair of long, sharp, twitching sabre-fangs.
Which gave D. J. the chance to be a hero, one he abdicated for about 20 seconds (he was a bit frozen in place by shock as well) and then, suddenly, wherever people get that burst within that makes them take action and do the right thing instead of just stand there and watch, numbly--
D. J. scooped Roxy up in his arms, and began running for the dune.
But then the shark beast--with an impossible gulp--swallowed the naked girl (or, well, most of her), and turned its shining silver eyes on D. J. and Roxy. They--and the creature--became suddenly, perfectly still. Eyeing each other. The moon glinted eerily in the shark beast's grisly stare.
It was a tense, long moment--
Then D. J. made a dash for the dune.
--but the shark beast scrambled to cut him off, wriggling and hissing, tentacles snapping in the air, forcing D. J. to retreat, edge backwards, carrying Roxy to the edge of the cold ocean waters.
This seemed to calm the shark beast, gave it an apparent sense of
the prey is trapped,
and it scuttled back to finish what was left of the Hooter's waitress. It never took its glinting eyes off of D. J. and Roxy, as it began chewing on the girl, wrapping its stinging tentacles around her for a better grip, slicing and cutting at the tough parts with those awful claws.
All during this those shark beast eyes kept glinting, unblinkingly, at D. J. and Roxy. As if to say...
Don't worry.
You two are next.
~ ~ THIRTEEN ~ ~
Back In The Hermit Crab Used Bookstore:
MORE ATTIC SEX
Upstairs, in the attic, Luna was insatiable.
After a short break, enough to catch their breaths, enough to recharge their lungs (but not, Hoagie thought sheepishly, much else), she'd climbed on top of Hoagie, and had started at it again.
Hoagie, on his back now, exhausted but, hey--
willing naked chick on board
-- couldn't believe his luck. He'd always imagined Luna probably looked good in the raw and all--those tight tops of hers sure put thoughts into a guy's head, even if he didn't want them there--but, now, getting a good look in the candlelight--
wow.
Sure, that tattoo on her right breast was a little creepy, but, other than that--
Wow.
Luna kept undulating, and muttering, and her breasts just kept swaying, and her hips--
Muttering?
What is she saying--?
he wondered, but just for a moment. Almost as if she wanted to change the subject of his unspoken thought, she started grinding her hips in a slightly different, somehow even more seductive manner. Boy, did that send his thoughts spinning.
It just felt...
so
...
good...
He arched his back, as much as he could, but then--fine--let her do all the work. After all, she was doing pretty good so far. Amazingly good-- heck, let's be honest--shockingly, the best he'd ever had, and he'd had, well, he'd had his share. But nothing like her, like
this
-- the way she was, well... the whole... how she... just...
Wow.
It was hard to believe-- yes, yes, he knew she had a rockin' body, but man, she usually seemed so utterly, unabashedly (and somewhat proudly)...
dumb.
And naggy. And a total slob. And the whole "Witches of Downtown Eastwick" thing. And a turbo drama queen. And about a hundred other things she apparently assumed men overlooked because of what she had under her clothes. And most of the time, she was right. But all that--and something else--struck Hoagie unappealing. Not now, of course, obviously, but... uhmmm...
(but?)
(but what?)
(
sooo...
gooood
)
His mind went in and out of focus, occasionally stopping on the odd rebel thought...
How come the candles are all back on...?
Why does the pointer on the stupid magic board underneath me seem to be moving...?
And Luna's eyes.
Why and by what reason how did they all of a sudden seem so--
So--
(so what?)
Luna twisted. And grinded. And rubbed. And--
...
so
...
good...
And all thoughts, rebel or otherwise, slipped away under a sweet tide of pleasure.
Luna smiled.
He smiled back, loopily. His gaze, foggy but cheerful, travelled over her body... her rockin' bod... down to those big...
Just as the tattoo on her right breast began to--
No.
It couldn't be.
Leaning his head up, squinting, he stared.
Wait, it does seem to be--
Nah,
mused Hoagie finally, with a sleaze-intoxicated grin.
It just looks like that in the light.
Still, it did look like it--
Luna swiveled, and that was it for any coherent thoughts in Hoagie's brain. His hands rose, and grabbed those big breasts, and began to squeeze. And twist. And this and that and...
Wow.
~~~
In the shadows of the ever-brightening candles... for a million different secret reasons...
...some good... some bad...
...and one really,
really
bad...
Luna just smiled.
~ ~ FOURTEEN ~ ~
Out In The Cold, Cold Waters:
ROCKS
D. J. took a quick look over his shoulder, hoping against hope that they'd lucked out, that maybe this was the spot where--
Yes.
There it was.
Roxy saw what he was looking at. She shook her head--
no--you'll never make it--we'll never make it
--but there was no energy in her opposition.
She knew they had no choice.
So D. J. tightened his hold on Roxy--and she rewarded this effort with a kiss--and that was more than enough to give him the burst he needed... to slowly... step back ... into the cold waves of the ocean.
D. J. was up to his knees, splashing backwards when the shark beast suddenly looked up from its Hooters meal straight at him.
"He sees what you're doing,"
whispered Roxy. Not in a nagging way, just in a that's-the-way-it-is way.
"I know, I know," D. J. whispered, not taking his eyes of the strange hungry creature that wasn't taking its eyes of them. "Tell me something new, like how far are we from the...thing?"
Roxy turned her head, dully. The "thing" was a little island of three rocks or so, sticking out of the waters about 50 feet away from them.
It was the little island of rocks that had inspired the t-shirt Hoagie had worn, and his band name, as well.
"Kinda close, kinda far," was all Roxy said, with a weary sigh.
D. J. kept slowly edging backwards. Up to his waist in water at this point.
"Kinda helpful, kinda not," he said, giving her a quick look. It lasted about a second, that look, but a lot of things swirled through D. J.'s mind in that instant. It was like his life suddenly flashed before his eyes--but not the one he'd had, instead the one he
could
have had--with Roxy--if only he'd have acted earlier, not wasted so much time, if only--
(what were you waiting for--?)
But then, now-- SNAP -- his full attention back to the shark beast, which was perking up on its hind legs, glaring at them from the beach.
"Well," D. J. mused quietly, thoughts of another life slipping off with the waves, as he kept wading backwards. "It's obvious that thing can crawl underground. And with that fin it's obvious it can probably swim ... the question is..."
Kept easing back.
The shark beast kept perking; glaring.
"... how
fast
can it swim?"
Roxy sighed, and nuzzled close, wrapping her arms around his neck, and then, with absolutely no touch of panic or fear in her voice, said, vaguely, "Think we're about to find out."
And with that, the shark beast emitted a loud angry hiss, spewing mist and blood into the night, clamped its jaws together tightly (after first spitting out some unchewed Hooters remains), and then, preening back, started gnashing its fangs together violently--
--click
CLICK
click
CLICK
click--
And like some mad dog after a lame rabbit, burst forward in a cloud of virulent beach sand, and came barreling toward the water.
--clickclick
CLICK
click
CLICK
--
"Time to
ru
-unn," Roxy said in a tiny sing-song voice, burying her face in D. J.'s chest, as she prepared to let whatever was going to happen, happen.
And what happened was--
D. J. choked and wobbled, then spun around and made his own mad dash for the kinda close kinda far little island of rock out in the sloshing waves.