Free Slime by John Halkin Page A

to harm it, after all. Creatures could sense hostility, couldn’t they? Hadn’t he read that somewhere? In some magazine?
    An agonising pain coursed through him, shooting through his intestines and genitals. He found himself swallowing mouthfuls of salt sea-water as he gasped for breath. He sank, then broke surface again, gulping in the air before he once more went under. A fresh pain explored him, more leisurely this time, meandering through him as though deliberately seeking out his organs one by one to inflict torture on them.
    He was screaming, yet he couldn’t hear himself. All around him was the muffled silence of water and the dim, shifting light. Instinctively he must have kicked out again, for there was the chill air and the ripples against his face.
    That agony had been no more than a sudden cramp, perhaps. Lazily he tried to work it out, his mind barely functioning. Yes, that’s what it must have been, but it had gone now. His whole body felt oddly raw, yet at the same time so relaxed.
    He was no longer swimming even; just floating. So gently. They didn’t believe he was seventy already, thepeople who saw him every day. They all said that, and Colleen had been so proud when she heard it.
    Wait till he told her about the jellyfish!
    It must have gone, of course. He tried to touch his stomach to make sure, but his arm was so reluctant to move. He’d better get back now: Colleen would be waiting.
    Shoulder?
    Had it moved to his shoulder, that jellyfish? Or a second one? No…
    Oh no…
    It slithered over his skin, shifting to his throat… like a muffler… A sharp, burning pain penetrated his neck, probing without mercy.
    Washing over his face, the sea choked his shrill screams. He was drowning, he knew it as surely as he’d have known a page from his own accounts. He’d tried to tell Colleen he’d follow her. Yes, he’d tried to tell her. Not sure whether she’d heard, though her hand had tightened over his.
    Colleen –

8
    Food… food… food…
    From the first few jellyfish already prowling these rich coastal waters the message goes out. No apparatus yet devised by mankind can detect such transmissions through the ocean depths; yet, many miles away, the main jellyfish hordes are alerted.
    Instinctively, the bell-shaped bodies start to pulsate as they home in on the signals. Hundreds move as one, riding the currents, skilfully using that bellows motion to stay on course. From the surface they are scarcely visible, although an observer flying directly overhead mightnotice a few variations in the sea’s constantly changing pattern of light and shade.
    From the south and west they approach, heading for the Celtic Sea… the English Channel… the North Sea… their tentacles alive with expectation.
    Food… food… food…

9
    The weekend with Sue turned out to be possible after all. The Welsh doctor raised no objections, though he did issue a firm warning that Tim should take things easy for the next few days. But that, thought Tim, suited his mood well enough. He still wore his sling and his left hand set up waves of pain at the slightest pressure on it.
    Jane appointed herself chauffeuse and drove him as far as Bristol where she put him on a train for the South Devon coast before taking herself off – in his BMW, naturally – to spend the weekend with her marine biologist sister.
    ‘We still need to find that specimen,’ she reminded him as they parted, brushing a quick kiss against his lips. ‘Keep your eyes open in Devon.’
    He nodded, then climbed awkwardly into the train. A walking casualty, they’d once called him in a war film in which he’d earned a couple of days’ pay as an extra. Only five years ago, that’d been, and now here he was, travelling first class.
    Much to his relief, Sue was at the station to meet him. He spotted her even before the train had stopped: a tall slim figure, as elegant as ever. She waved and ran towards him, eager to help as he clambered down the