Shark Beast by Russ Cooper Read Free Book Online

inches from Kirsten's thigh.
    It was then Kirsten saw that Eddie had--somehow--sunk in the beach, about a foot, maybe two, past his ankles, right below his knee--
    Quicksand?
    That was her initial thought.
    Until she saw the tentacles curling up from the sand, wrapping and wriggling up Eddie's legs.
    And, of course--
    The blood.
    Kirsten could only watch, in her for-sure dream state (did he hit me with the crowbar already?) as Eddie started whipping around like he was being electrocuted, as blood started soaking his pants, as he--whoop!--dropped another foot into the sand. The tentacles hurriedly reasserted their grip. One tentacle whipped right into Eddie's crotch, and if Eddie thought those Kirsten-kicks were painful--
    (oh, his poor balls)
    (almost feel sorry for the jerk)
    Eddie's teeth chomped together with a harsh, horrid click--
    She grinned droopily. Wow. This is one wicked-ass dream.
    And then, that's when Kirsten noticed another click... and another... and another--
    ...click-click- CLICK -click- CLICK...
    ...a whole rapid-fire machine gun clip of clicks...
    And that's when-- now, I know I'm drunk, but this is getting ridiculous --she saw the teeth, coming out of the sand, chewing on Eddie's leg--
    The beach is eating Eddie? she thought dimly. Good times. Good times.
    Suddenly, Kirsten didn't want to watch--even for a dream, this was getting a little too surreal. And kinda sick, to be honest. But, funny enough--she couldn't turn away.
    So: she lay there, in the surf, and watched Eddie slowly--and bonelessly--get pulled down into the sand.
    All the way down to his neck.
    She looked into his eyes.
    He looked into her eyes.
    And then--
    Some creature, some creature's head--
    (man, I got me some drunk imagination)

    --burst out of the sand, like a shark--that's what it looked like, a shark's head--but with tentacles and pinchers and who knew what else--
    (maybe I should be a writer)

    And that shark-creature-tentacle-thing just rose up and swallowed Eddie's big stupid dumb stupidjerky bloated head--
    A chomp. A loud chomp. And then--eeeew, gross--a sickly guttural swallowing sound... And then--
    Mr. Tacky Camaro was gone.
    Kirsten blinked. Then--she blinked again.
    Well. That was fun.
    A slow cool breeze overtook her. She let it. Wow. That was... wow.
    Kirsten stretched, listened to the waves. Then started to drift off again, for how long she didn't know, because--suddenly--she felt something.
    The sand, beneath her, starting to...
    ...shift.
    (when's this dream gonna be over, let's skip to the hangover and be done)
    ...undulating beneath her.
    (feels kinda good)
    Whatever. She shrugged, and sank back into her wet, sandy beach hallucination... began to sink...
    (felt a pinch... kinda painful, actually...)
    (but, hey, beats a crowbar, no?)
    ...sinking ...
    ... sinking ...
    ... sinking --
    Her gaze slipped, and wandered. Found herself looking out, into the ocean, those waves. As her vision slowly began to blur.
    Look.
    How interesting, yes?

    A little island of rocks. Just out there, in the water.
    Just like that t-shirt the guy tried to buy for me, at the crab used bookstore... the book used crab store... the...
    Welcome to Rock and Roll Island.
    Something like that.
    Man.
    I should have let him buy it for me.
    After all...
    He seemed nice.
     

    ~ ~ SIX ~ ~
Downstairs In
The Hermit Crab Used Bookstore:
The Prank

    The next bit of action unfolds like a scene from one of those teenage scary movies. Imagine sitting in a darkened theatre, the lights low, the atmosphere tense and mysterious, and then, the following:

    TIGHT on the unlocked front glass doors of the bookstore, as a hand slowly -- and quietly -- gives a nudge.
    A YOUNG MAN peers his way inside, sneakily. He is carrying a black bag. Taking a few cautious peeks around to make sure the coast is clear, he sneaks behind the register counter, and looks inside his bag.
    He pulls out a black robe, a fake rubber knife, and a couple of Halloween masks. And, a small