Free Octopocalypse by Joseph J. Bailey Page A

together
in high school. Willard had wrecked the opposition on the defensive line. Ray merely
got in people’s way.
    Much like now.
    “No, Willard. Hank was drinkin’.
Not me.”
    “And you don’t think his state of
intoxication was the reason he fell overboard?”
    “Like I told you, he didn’t fall
overboard. A jet squid flyin’ through the air knocked him overboard.”
    Sheriff Hayes snorted. “You allege that a squid, propelled by air forced out of its siphon, knocked him overboard.
But it was dark, there was no moon, and your spotlight was off.”
    “There are some squids that can
shoot out of the water. Maybe this was one.”
    “Be reasonable, Ray.”
    He could tell by Willard’s flat
tone that the sheriff believed him about as much as he believed UFOs cavorted
in the bay alongside the Humboldt squids. “I know what I saw, Sheriff.” As his
frustration grew, his voice got louder. “When Hank fell in, he was swarmed by
those glowing red devils and eaten! Just as sure as shit!”
    “Is that really what you want us
to tell Hank’s family? Jim and Sally? Julia? His kids? That glowing Humboldt
jet squids flying through the air killed their son, their husband, their
father?”
    “You know what to say better than
me, Will. Tell ’em it’s under investigation. Tell ’em it’s my fault.”
    He sighed, head in his hands. “Because
it is. I never should’ve taken him out. We should’ve just stayed in and watched
the game.”
    The Sheriff was not impressed. “Something
happened out there, Hank. I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”
    He wanted nothing to do with
getting to the bottom of anything.
    Most especially the ocean.
    If he didn’t have to stay, he
would already be long gone.

Octocopter
     
    The county pier was one of his
favorite places to go with his friends.
    He loved the easy access to the
water should they want to swim or hang out on the beach.
    But it was also a destination.
    A place providing something to do
if they needed it.
    The pier always felt like the
focal point for his friends’ summer activities.
    If they were surfing the break and
hungry, they could grab a bite to eat at Ruby’s.
    If they caught some fish in the surf
or from the pier, they could save them for a sunset cookout after calling in
more friends to hang out, goof off, watch the sun burn out among the reds and
oranges of the ocean’s horizon, and laze away the warm summer nights with laughter
and camaraderie.
    The pier was always there.
    A welcome background.
    A friend standing silent vigil
whether you asked him to or not.
    The pier was there and it felt
like home.
    Until today.
    Today the world ended, and he
didn’t know if he would ever get it back.
     
    “Come on, Mike! Cast your line and
get started. The fish aren’t waiting for your sorry ass!”
    He could take Chris’s abuse. After
all, this was one of the few places Chris could let go. When he went home,
things would get serious quick and all jokes would be off.
    He always encouraged Chris’s
moods. As far he knew it was one of his only releases.
    Today was no different.
    He took things real slow.
    “Did you remember your sunscreen?”
    When Chris just raised an eyebrow,
he smirked and added, “Because we’re going to be here a l ong time!”
    His joke was met with a playful
punch in the shoulder.
    “Shut up and cast, man!”
    He took his time, drawing things
out, looking down at the waves over the pier’s railing as if studying the
perfect spot to lay his line.
    “Okay. I’m not waiting for you any
longer, you poser. You just pretend to know how to fish. Stand back and watch
how it’s done!”
    “The only thing I’ll be watching
is you hauling up another load of seaweed. I hear you supply all the nori to Yoshi’s in town.”
    Chris shook his head. “At least I
catch something. All you do is make sure the bottom feeders have full bellies.
You always were a bleeding heart, finding ways to give to those in need.”
    Chris had him pegged there.