Read Online White Fangs by Tim Lebbon, Christopher Golden - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tim Lebbon, Christopher Golden
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looking to the others.
"Really?" Jack asked, dripping sarcasm.
"Have you seen what it is?" Vukovich asked.
Ghost shook his head and grinned at Jack. "Perhaps Captain London recognizes the attacker from his earlier journeys."
"No," Jack said.
"Then we should —" Ghost began, but Jack cut him off.
" We will do as we see fit."
Ghost's grin remained, and he raised one eyebrow. A scream came from somewhere, splashing, and then a terrible howl than ended in something crunching. Ghost partly closed his eyes and breathed in, and Jack knew what he was doing. Relishing the blood , Jack thought. Even he, a human, could sense the taint on the air — opened insides, ruptured organs. The others . . .
The others were shifting from foot to foot, breathing heavily, and from one of them issued a low, gentle growl.
"Very well," Ghost said. He turned back to Sabine. "You'll always be safest with me." Before anyone could reply he was gone, sprinting along the deck and quickly becoming one with the shadows.
"Sabine?" Jack said. Though their love was strong and Ghost was a beast, he could not keep a hint of doubt from his mind. It was Ghost who had been there to save her, after all. Not Jack. "Sabine, I should have been — "
"It was my fault," she said. She came to him and grasped his hand. The way she looked at him could not be feigned and Jack was relieved.
"The wheelhouse," he said, while surreptitiously checking them all, and once again it was Vukovich giving him the most concern.
"I'm so hungry," Vukovich said, shaking.
Louis stepped forward and slapped his crewmate around the face.
Jack held his breath and waited for the violence — simmering close to them and surrounding the stricken vessel — to explode. But Vukovich stood firm and stared at Louis, putting one hand on the man's shoulder and squeezing.
"Never . . . do that again," he said softly. Then he smiled, and nodded his thanks.
They headed along the deck, pressed as far from the railing as possible. Jack kept glancing at the river. He expected to see the attackers reveal themselves, rising from dark waters in all their monstrous splendor, and though terrified, he was eager to see. This wildness was something he did not know. He had seen true horrors, and he would prefer to know what new terrors he faced.
"I wish they'd just show themselves," Louis said, echoing Jack's thoughts.
Maurilio agreed. "I want to see what we'll have to fight.".
They reached the external stairs that led up two levels to the wheelhouse. Climbing felt good to Jack, because it took them farther from the water.
"Listen," Sabine said as they reached the next level. They paused, Jack and Sabine in the lead, the others behind them. The river flowed against the steamer's hull, but the boat did not move. The ship's lights had gone out and the passengers' shouts had grown even more anxious and fearful.
"We're not moving," the Reverend said.
"Yet the boat is not trapped," Louis said. "We would feel the vibrations if it were. I think we're being held ."
"But listen!" Sabine said again. They listened, and the night had grown quiet. No more gunfire, and no more screams. Jack closed his eyes, and when his other senses came to the fore he could still smell blood.
"Whatever is in the water has had its fill," Maurilio said.
"No." Jack shook his head. "They've simply taken the easy victims. If they want the rest of us . . ." He looked down over the railing at the river, and tried to see below its surface, to sense his way down. But he could not settle his thoughts. He was not too disappointed — he had no wish to touch on that void ever again.
"Perhaps they cannot emerge," Louis said.
"Or perhaps they will not," the Reverend said.
"We can only hope," Jack said.
"Could be they're just toying with us," Vukovich muttered. "Like prey."
Jack stared at him, hating the idea but fearing it might have merit. These wolves knew something about toying with their prey.
They climbed the steps and arrived
"Really?" Jack asked, dripping sarcasm.
"Have you seen what it is?" Vukovich asked.
Ghost shook his head and grinned at Jack. "Perhaps Captain London recognizes the attacker from his earlier journeys."
"No," Jack said.
"Then we should —" Ghost began, but Jack cut him off.
" We will do as we see fit."
Ghost's grin remained, and he raised one eyebrow. A scream came from somewhere, splashing, and then a terrible howl than ended in something crunching. Ghost partly closed his eyes and breathed in, and Jack knew what he was doing. Relishing the blood , Jack thought. Even he, a human, could sense the taint on the air — opened insides, ruptured organs. The others . . .
The others were shifting from foot to foot, breathing heavily, and from one of them issued a low, gentle growl.
"Very well," Ghost said. He turned back to Sabine. "You'll always be safest with me." Before anyone could reply he was gone, sprinting along the deck and quickly becoming one with the shadows.
"Sabine?" Jack said. Though their love was strong and Ghost was a beast, he could not keep a hint of doubt from his mind. It was Ghost who had been there to save her, after all. Not Jack. "Sabine, I should have been — "
"It was my fault," she said. She came to him and grasped his hand. The way she looked at him could not be feigned and Jack was relieved.
"The wheelhouse," he said, while surreptitiously checking them all, and once again it was Vukovich giving him the most concern.
"I'm so hungry," Vukovich said, shaking.
Louis stepped forward and slapped his crewmate around the face.
Jack held his breath and waited for the violence — simmering close to them and surrounding the stricken vessel — to explode. But Vukovich stood firm and stared at Louis, putting one hand on the man's shoulder and squeezing.
"Never . . . do that again," he said softly. Then he smiled, and nodded his thanks.
They headed along the deck, pressed as far from the railing as possible. Jack kept glancing at the river. He expected to see the attackers reveal themselves, rising from dark waters in all their monstrous splendor, and though terrified, he was eager to see. This wildness was something he did not know. He had seen true horrors, and he would prefer to know what new terrors he faced.
"I wish they'd just show themselves," Louis said, echoing Jack's thoughts.
Maurilio agreed. "I want to see what we'll have to fight.".
They reached the external stairs that led up two levels to the wheelhouse. Climbing felt good to Jack, because it took them farther from the water.
"Listen," Sabine said as they reached the next level. They paused, Jack and Sabine in the lead, the others behind them. The river flowed against the steamer's hull, but the boat did not move. The ship's lights had gone out and the passengers' shouts had grown even more anxious and fearful.
"We're not moving," the Reverend said.
"Yet the boat is not trapped," Louis said. "We would feel the vibrations if it were. I think we're being held ."
"But listen!" Sabine said again. They listened, and the night had grown quiet. No more gunfire, and no more screams. Jack closed his eyes, and when his other senses came to the fore he could still smell blood.
"Whatever is in the water has had its fill," Maurilio said.
"No." Jack shook his head. "They've simply taken the easy victims. If they want the rest of us . . ." He looked down over the railing at the river, and tried to see below its surface, to sense his way down. But he could not settle his thoughts. He was not too disappointed — he had no wish to touch on that void ever again.
"Perhaps they cannot emerge," Louis said.
"Or perhaps they will not," the Reverend said.
"We can only hope," Jack said.
"Could be they're just toying with us," Vukovich muttered. "Like prey."
Jack stared at him, hating the idea but fearing it might have merit. These wolves knew something about toying with their prey.
They climbed the steps and arrived
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