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Octopocalypse
Ratings:
54 pages35 minutes
Summary
Some say the world will end in fire and ash, others frost and ice, still others dust and dissolution.
I say it will end in tentacles.
Lots of tentacles.
Publisher: Joseph J. BaileyReleased: Feb 10, 2018ISBN: 9780989458283Format: book
Book Preview
Octopocalypse - Joseph J. Bailey
bad.
Octopocalypse
If the thought of eating imitation calamari made from pigs’ anuses disgusts you, then knowing you could become part of a squid’s rectum can’t be much better.
These are the joys of living in the Octopocalypse.
This is my job day in and day out.
Sometimes I’d rather be unemployed.
My name is Willard P. Hayes and I’m a sheriff.
Usually being a sheriff means keeping law and order and upholding the peace.
When there’s no peace to be had, you just hold on to what you can.
What the Hell?
Watch this, Hank!
Watch what?
Just watch!
I’m watchin’!
The boat rocked gently back and forth, rolling with the low waves, as he angled the signal light down to point into the black waters. The beam hummed to life with a decisive click as he powered the beam on and watched it disappear into the depths.
Here we go!
We’re not goin’ anywhere, Ray. The engine’s off!
Just shut up and drink your beer, Hank. I’m workin’ on it!
Moving the spotlight steadily back and forth beside the boat, he waited for any sign of movement.
Can we get back to fishin’, Ray? I don’t really care about shinin’ lights into the water… reminds me how deep it is. It’s not like I get to come out often. I haven’t been out on the ocean in years.
He ignored Hank’s blabbering. Try to show a friend a good time and all he gets in return is a bunch of whining… Next time he wouldn’t bother.
Ray, you see somethin’ down there?
He smiled.
Now for the fun!
Almost invisible in the wavering deep, faint red and white oscillating pinpricks of illuminescence appeared to be darting around the searchlight’s glow far below.
I think I see somethin’. Shine that light over here!
He angled the light toward where Hank leaned over the boat’s prow.
Lookit, Ray! There’re red lights everywhere! They’re comin’ closer!
His grin nearly spread ear to ear.
Hank looked at him briefly, his look of astonishment clouding. What’re you smirkin’ about?
"Those’re Humboldt squid, Hank. They flash red and white when they’re huntin’. That’s why some fishermen call ’em diablo rojo."
Red devils? What’re they huntin’?
Right now the light’s foolin’ ’em. They probably think it’s a school of fish.
They’re comin’ up!
Hank was right. The lights were coming toward the surface quickly. This was quite a large shoal.
Hank’s tone was grim. Let’s get out of here, Ray! I don’t like this.
There’s nothin’ to be afraid of, Hank. They’re just squid.
I don’t care. Let’s go.
All right. Give me a minute to start the engine.
Turning off the signal light, he walked up to the steering wheel to turn the ignition, grumbling. It was just like Hank to be a spoilsport. He’d been complaining since high school.
Some things never change.
Next time he would go fishing alone.
Weaving between the bowrider’s two seats, where Hank stood looking out to port, he placed his left hand on the steering wheel and turned the key with his right.
He
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