Steven jogged towards the boat. His breathing was steady even as sweat dripped down his brow and threatened to seep into his eyes. He would have whipped at it, but between an unconscious Issac on his shoulders in a firefighter’s carry and keeping any goblin that got through Miles and Ryan at bay, he didn’t have enough hands.

The ambush party was thinning, their prone bodies either dead or too injured to fight littering the sand. As the ferry came back into view, his mouth set into a grim line. He was never so foolish to believe that the decline in attackers meant they had retreated. No, they had only switched targets.

Upon seeing the ferry overrun with monsters, Ryan abandoned his position and sprinted towards it. Stumbling once in the unsteady terrain before regaining his footing. He could feel them watching him boarding the boat once more and as soon as his feet met the deck, the swarm swallowed him whole. His form was no longer visible from their position on the beach.

Ryan’s absence opened up a hole in their defence and left Stevens’ right side open to attack. With the heavy burden on his shoulders, he faltered. Keeping his pace impossible with the Goblins in his path. They came to a slow, and then a standstill.

They soon learned to attack from the side, or behind, for any that did otherwise found themselves crushed underfoot. Miles dealt with those that scurried onto his back, refusing to let anything touch Issac while he was defenceless, but try as he might, he was only one man.

“There’s too many!”

Steven acknowledged the statement with a grunt, dropping his son to the ground a lot less gently than he wanted, with haste being the priority. Taking a wide stance to lower his center of gravity, he glared at the goblins blocking the path to the ferry. The bones in his neck cracked as he tilted it from side to side. Blood thrummed through his ears as if trapped within his skull.

“Right.”

They fell by his hands in droves. Expression cold, stony while putting an end to the threat. With calculated precision, he tore them to pieces. Blood, belonging both to himself and the monsters, coating his arms all the way to the elbow. When The last one fell gurgling, he crushed its skull underfoot. Miles panted for breath, bent over with his hands on his knees as he took the much needed rest, brief as it was. Steven hoisted his son back on his shoulders and they were on the move once more.

“Remind me not to piss you off.”

Goblins infested the ferry like a plague of rats. Getting back on board was easy. Once the larger, most likely more experienced goblins died, those that remained displayed no signs of tactics. Not thinking to separate them, and even aided in dragging them aboard to rejoin the group.

Though Miles was losing his fear of them, their danger only being in ambush and numbers, he still worried about the other members of his group. An anxiety that was laid to rest the moment Emily’s battle cry roared across the deck and met his ears. Though covered in shallow injuries his friend dished out twice what she received, he thought about aiding her but she seemed to have it under control, and he had a plan, something that he had always wanted to try if there was ever a zombie apocalypse.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Dodging and dislodging attackers, he scrambled to the passenger seat of his car. Holding the door shut as he rummaged through Emily’s backpack. Fumbling for a moment, he finally pulled out a can of deodorant and a lighter. With a manic grin, he turned to the goblin beyond the door.

Throwing it open and knocking aside all those behind it, Miles thumbed at the lighter and on the third strike, it lit. The scent of cooking pork filled the air as the makeshift flamethrower cooked at the goblin’s flesh. The skin on his hands blistered with nothing to protect it from the heat, but the fire had done its job and created some room between him and the monsters.

Miles wondered if the fact the anguished screams made him smile made him a psycho, and decided he didn’t care if it did. He wanted to make them hurt, like he was hurting, like every person on the boat was hurting. They deserve it for attacking them, and he was sure that if the shoe was on the other foot, they would do the same. Did it make him a monster too? He dropped the uncomfortable line of thought.

Rejoining the fight, Miles targeted large groups of the monsters, setting them a light with little consideration to his own pain as the burns on his hand worsened, though the creatures dressed in nothing but rags, hair was still very flammable, and with the compact mob it quickly spread.

Those set alight desperately tried to put themselves out, rolling on the ground only to be trampled. Others jumped off the boat and towards salt water and were unable or unwilling to rejoin the fight. Slowly, the number of enemies waned, one by one subsuming to their injuries as the group worked to bring them down.

“Where are the kids!?” Ryan demanded the moment he deemed help no longer necessary.

“Below deck!” Vicky desperately wanted to go check on them, but wasn’t about to leave Steven alone to defend their unconscious son. The moment the words left her lips, he ran in that direction. Nobody in the group minded this, aware that victory was nearly assured, and all that remained was to exterminate the rest.

When the last goblin fell, the newly minted brothers in arms were too exhausted to speak, instead examining each other to regain their composure and making sure no one was about to keel over. Words needed to be had, yes, but that could happen later, when half the group didn’t look to be on the verge of passing collapse.

They were so exhausted that when the now familiar fog rolled in once more, no one commented on it. For a long moment, all they could hear was their own ragged breathing and the sea. As it plopped back into the water, the rocking motion returned a second later, and the ferry groaned as if relieved to return. The sky darkened, the once midday sun turning to dusk that seemed darker than usual with their unadapted eyes.

From the fog appeared a ship that belonged in another century. Lined side by side, the damage to the wooden vessel was unmistakable, full of splintered holes and half sinking into the murky depths below. The sky rumbled,lighting up for a moment. A raindrop hit Emily’s cheek, prompting her to look up and as she did so, spotted the tattered skull and crossbones flag.

Before she could comment on it, a heavy bang sent vibrations through the floor and rocked the ferry. Unbalanced, she fell to her knees in fright as Miles yelped. Standing in front of her with his makeshift flamethrower raised. The rain began falling in earnest.

“Shit.” He lowered the weapon as the weather made it useless. Trying to get his eyes to adjust to the dark as he squinted toward the noise, only to see nothing. He jumped as the clouds lit up momentarily and revealed a figure that cast a dark shadow.

Standing almost eight feet tall. Half man half hyena the pirate stood straight, the cutlass though pointed at the deck and not at them was still firm in hand. His fur was wet and mangy, a canine missing as he bared his teeth. Wearing only buccaneer trousers that tied in knots half way down the calves.

“Brave of ye, to sail these uncharted waters.”