Hardcore Prawn Read online

  His finger hesitated on the plunger for a few seconds, then it depressed it, sending the payload into Miguel’s veins.

  3

  Gonzalez was a bag of nerves, expecting Miguel to drop down dead as soon as the compound hit his heart, but nothing really happened at first.

  They checked up on him hourly, but it didn’t seem to have made any difference.

  Gonzalez seemed to think it was a waste of money, but then Rivera came up to the farm.

  ‘Little courtesy call,’ he said, beaming. ‘How’s the subject?’

  ‘He’s fine,’ Gonzalez said. ‘Like he hadn’t taken anything.’

  ‘Oh, he’s taken something alright. He seem any different?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘How long’s it been?’

  ‘Two and a half days.’

  Rivera gazed into the sky, counting intently on his fingers. He nodded; ‘Give him the rest. See how he goes on that.’

  Gonzalez did as instructed.

  ‘There ya go, man,’ Rivera said, giving Miguel a hearty slap on the side.

  Miguel snorted.

  ‘Any problems give me a call, and remember… this didn’t happen.’

  Gonzalez nodded.

  Miguel was doing well, so well that Gonzalez asked for more of the drug.

  He began dosing some of the other cows with it too.

  The females took to it well.

  Milk production was up. Takings began to rise.

  They made that month’s payment without a sweat, with a little to spare to put towards the next month’s.

  Things were going well until Simone, one of the young ranch hands, was cleaning out Miguel’s enclosure.

  The beast turned on him, his huge – even huger since Rivera’s intervention – flanks seeming to tremble in anticipation.

  While Simone bent down, Miguel’s breathing began to increase. His vast flanks were heaving like he was drilling the road.

  Gonzalez was eyeing him warily, as he’d kept a close eye on him.

  He went in to see Miguel, laying a hand on the top of his head in the way he usually did when the animal was anxious.

  Miguel shook his head to the side, throwing the hand off.

  Gonzalez had never seen the look in his eyes before.

  It could only be described as murderous.

  ‘Miguel, shh it’s ok,’ he said.

  Miguel continued to stare at the ranch hand, his breathing getting heavier and heavier.

  ‘Hey, I think we should get out of here,’ Gonzalez said.

  Simone shrugged it off.

  Gonzalez grabbed his arm. ‘Come on, now.’

  Miguel followed them.

  He was snorting hard now.

  Gonzalez was out of the gate and he turned back to pull Simone through.

  Miguel lurched forward with the force of a tank.

  It was sickeningly fast for an animal of such bulk.

  His horns met with Simone’s back.

  There was a horrendous crack like a tree limb breaking, only louder.

  Simone screamed.

  Blood glistened on the ivory tip of a horn that poked from his stomach.

  Simone screamed louder, spraying a thick mist of blood over Gonzalez’s face.

  Eddie must have heard the scream as he was already sprinting through the enclosure.

  Gonzalez was trying to pull Simone out, but he was only widening the wound in his belly.

  Miguel reared back slightly, giving them room to shut the gate.

  Eddie saw that Gonzalez was still trying to pull Simone through the gate.

  ‘It’s too late, Dad,’ Eddie said, wrapping his arms around his waist and dragging him back.

  Gonzalez came to his senses and helped his son in his efforts to shut the gate.

  Miguel slammed into it with concussive force, throwing both of them on their asses in the hay.

  Simone was still gored on the horns, more blood spurting from his wounds.

  Blood gushed from his lips and dripped down his chin.

  He already looked like he was dying; pale with shock and blood loss.

  ‘Get this fucking gate shut,’ Gonzalez said.

  They pushed their muscles to their limit, and managed to force the gate shut.

  But it was warped from Miguel’s savage charge.

  The bar wouldn’t fit in properly.

  Miguel barged it again, throwing them back.

  Somehow they managed to dive on the gate and shove it shut again.

  José, Gonzalez’s other son, was running across the enclosure and he hurled himself on the gate just as Miguel hit it again.

  It looked as though it had been hit by a speeding juggernaut.

  While his sons braced the gate, Gonzalez moved the bar – which was bent out of shape in spite of it being heavy steel – round and forced it into place.

  Eddie leant his full weight on the gate, bracing it while José helped Gonzalez bend the bar back into shape.

  Gonzalez fastened the chain around the gate and padlocked it shut.

  Now that the gate was shut, Miguel had stopped trying to get them.

  Instead, his head was bowed, his back to them.

  The reason for his apathy was arguably worse than his continued assault on them; with dread, they realised he was greedily chowing down on Simone’s corpse.

  4

  ‘What the fuck just happened?’ Eddie said, shock making his face white.

  ‘Your friend’s magic potion. That’s what fucking happened.’

  ‘But Miguel was eating him. He just went…’

  Gonzalez drew breath in sharply.

  ‘That poor kid’s family.’

  ‘Miguel was fucking eating him,’ Eddie said, staring off into space with a haunted look in his eye.

  ‘Yes I know he was eating him,’ Gonzalez snapped. ‘This is why I should never have listened to you. I knew this was a bad idea, but I had to fucking listen, didn’t I?’

  He shouted, ‘Fuck,’ and slammed his hand into the table top hard enough to make the two empty tequila glasses jump.

  When he’d calmed his nerves with a few drinks, he went back to check on Miguel.

  He was slumped in the corner, his vast flank propping up the wall of the enclosure.

  His eyes were glazed now and the red that had filled his corneas seemed to have dispersed a little.

  He was breathing heavily, his belly bloated with the dead ranch hand.

  Gonzalez looked and saw that nothing remained of Simone. Even the bones had been ground to dust by Miguel’s powerful jaws.

  The only trace of him that remained was the splatters of blood around the enclosure.

  ‘We might be ok here,’ Gonzalez muttered, his rocketing pulse beginning to slow a little.

  He got the hose and sprayed it around the enclosure, chasing away the blood and occasional chunk of bone which Miguel had missed.

  Feeling much better about this nightmare situation, he went back to the house. And, after a few more tequilas, he went to bed.

  Sleep eluded him for most of the night; he kept seeing the enraged look in Miguel’s eye as he tried to settle.

  It was supposed to be me, he thought. He tried to get me, but he missed.

  Gonzalez woke late, feeling like shit. He scraped the stubble from his face, paused to grimace at the bags under his eyes, then showered.

  The image of Simone trapped, crushed and impaled, blood spilling over his trembling bottom lip, assailed him like the punches of a heavyweight boxer.

  He slapped himself on the temple to try and chase it away.

  ‘Jeez, you ok?’ Cassandra said, seeing the state of him.

  ‘Yeah, just slept like shit,’ he lied.

  He poured a large coffee and picked at the breakfast that had been prepared for him.

  The rare steak Cassandra had cooked for his breakfast just reminded him of the ranch hand’s bloodied flesh, so he pushed it around his plate for a while before getting up and setting off for the offic
e.

  He walked the enclosures, making sure the cows were all ok.

  They all seemed fine, even Miguel was relatively chilled.

  Still, when he saw Gonzalez, he got to his feet and approached the gate.

  His head was bowed slightly.

  He grunted, his eyes staring up at Gonzalez.

  His hand shaking, Gonzalez reached in to comfort him.

  Miguel grunted again and his teeth clapped shut just shy of Gonzalez’s fingers.

  Though he would have sworn it impossible, Gonzalez was sure he saw the beast grinning.

  Miguel bowed his head a little more and Gonzalez took the hint.

  He reached in and patted his head.

  On the way in, his hand grazed the left horn.

  It was cold, hard. Like a bone spear.

  He briefly pondered what it would feel like sticking through his back and out of his belly – like poor Simone – then he recoiled.

  Miguel seemed to be upset at this and let out a little grunt.

  Gonzalez thought he was going to go for him, try and batter his way through the gate, but he just stared at him menacingly.

  He seemed patient, like he knew he had all the time in the world.

  It was after he’d checked up on Miguel that the day’s next irregularity took place; a young cop showed up asking if Simone had turned up for work yesterday.

  ‘He drinks a lot,’ Gonzalez said. True.

  ‘And he misses work a lot.’ Semi true.

  ‘So I don’t know where he is.’ False.

  He hated lying and it made him nervous.

  It felt like his voice was tiny, insignificant.

  His palms and the back of his neck seemed to have a river of sweat running through them.

  His perfectly-pressed white shirt was developing sweat patches similar to those on Eddie’s workout vests.

  You look guilty as hell, his mind taunted him.

  ‘He sure wasn’t here yesterday. We had to struggle on all day without him.’ True, but because he was in Miguel’s belly, not living it up in a local bar.

  The cop nodded, seemed to buy it.

  ‘You got CCTV in here?’ he asked.

  Gonzalez shook his head. ‘Can’t afford it anymore, since Lopez came to town.’

  The cop paused for a long time and Gonzalez wondered what the hell was going on in his mind, if he was picking holes in his story already. But he just nodded. ‘I hear ya. Well, listen, if he does show up, gimme a call. His girlfriend is worried sick.’

  ‘Will do. Thank you, Officer.’

  Gonzalez threw back a shot of tequila.

  ‘It’s midday,’ Cassandra scowled. ‘What the hell is the matter with you?’

  ‘Just got off the phone with the accountant,’ he said, impressed with the speed he’d come up with the lie.

  She seemed to buy it.

  He locked himself in the bathroom, sat, slumped over on the toilet seat, head in his hands.

  It felt like the walls were closing in on him.

  A week passed and things seemed to die down a little.

  The cops hadn’t been round any more and Gonzalez was overjoyed about that.

  Miguel seemed to have settled down a little.

  Although he did still give Gonzalez funny looks now and then.

  He seemed to have increased in bulk since taking Rivera’s potion, as did the other cows.

  Gonzalez thought about the risks and weighed it up with the rewards.

  Milk production was up, and the cows were bigger, carrying more meat.

  Takings were finally up too.

  But is that worth some kid dying?

  And the risk of someone else dying?

  His musings were interrupted by the sound of a gunshot.

  He jolted from his thoughts and ran to the office to get the handgun he kept hidden under his desk.

  5

  With the gun in his hand, he looked around.

  Lopez was standing in the entranceway, samurai sword in hand.

  ‘Fuck’s sake, not now,’ Gonzalez muttered.

  Lopez came in, Santos, Morales and Garcia behind him.

  Gonzalez looked around.

  Eddie was at the gym. Ramon was out picking up feed.

  The workers here were fairly big lads, but they were placid.

  Trying to set them onto Lopez would be like throwing a kitten to a Rottweiler.

  You’re on your own here, Mario, he thought, forlorn.

  ‘What are you doing here? I paid you, didn’t I?’ Gonzalez said.

  Lopez nodded.

  ‘So what are you doing here?’

  ‘Well, well, well, what do we have here, jefe?’ Lopez said, his head pecking back and forth on his neck. ‘You finally managed to locate your cojones?’

  Gonzalez despised him, but he was terrified of him too.

  ‘I hear you’ve begun to claw back some of the market share,’ Lopez said.

  Gonzalez smiled in spite of himself. It had been a long time since he’d impressed Lopez.

  ‘So me and the guys reckon it’s time we put our prices up,’ Lopez said.

  Gonzalez shrugged. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’re taking enough from us as it is.’

  Lopez snorted laughter. ‘Well I think it’s high time we tied up this loose end. Time to take the Gonzalez ranch off the map for good.’

  He moved over to one of the cows and put his gun in its face.

  ‘I say we start liquefying your assets.’

  The gun went off, spattering Lopez’s face in gore.

  It added to his insane appearance.

  I don’t stand a chance here, Gonzalez thought. I’m totally alone.

  Just then Miguel snorted.

  Gonzalez looked over to the enclosure.

  Miguel was getting up, his muscles rippling beneath his dark flesh.

  His eyes had that red glaze, Gonzalez could see that, even from fifteen feet away.

  He snorted again, louder, and reared back slightly.

  Then he lunged at the gate hard enough to make the metal creak.

  While Lopez and his men looked over in bemusement, Gonzalez aimed carefully and fired.

  ‘You missed, jefe!’ Lopez laughed as the bullet whistled past his face.

  Gonzalez smiled and shook his head.

  The padlock on the chain around Miguel’s gate fell to the floor.

  Miguel charged the gate, smashing it open almost enough for him to get out.

  Gonzalez ran while they were occupied.

  They fired on the beast, putting wounds in his flanks, but this just seemed to further enrage him.

  Miguel rammed the gate harder, almost taking it off its hinges as it flew open.

  He bolted straight for Lopez, startling in his speed.

  Snorting, Miguel bowed his head and hit Lopez, throwing his head up at the last moment and sending the hapless gangster flying a full six feet up in the air.

  He cried out in bemusement until he hit the floor hard enough to wind him.

  Miguel turned to the closest gunman – Garcia – and ran at him.

  Garcia had sense to turn and run, but this just meant he was facing away from the bull when it hit him in the back.

  He hit the wall headfirst, making a sickening crack ring out.

  One of his gold teeth was still embedded in the wall as he slid down it.

  Santos and Morales began to unload, but Miguel was not bothered, though he was now bleeding in a dozen places.

  Lopez was almost back on his feet.

  Blood was running down from his lip and a scuff on the side of his head.

  Miguel hit him at the waist and launched him up again.

  This time Lopez landed on his leg, with a loud crack.

  Santos had emptied his gun into Miguel, still to no avail.

  Black blood dripped from the beast’s flanks.

  He snorted, fixing Santos with that crimson glare, and ran.

  Santos was still trying to fumble a fresh magazine into his gu
n when the beast hit him.

  The impact threw him back, landing him hard on his side.

  He got to his feet slowly and began to back away.

  As Miguel charged again, Santos ran for the nearest cow’s enclosure.

  He got there just as Miguel hit his backside, flicking him up in the air with a casual toss of his head.

  He landed face first in the straw in the cow enclosure.

  His grin of triumph soon faded as the cows surrounded him and began greedily jostling for position.

  Then the feeding began.

  He screamed as the flesh was torn from his bones and greedily slurped down.

  In the end, death was a blessing.

  Morales was still firing on Miguel, but the beast was ignoring him for now.

  It was watching Lopez, who was limping away as fast as he could.

  The beast snorted, making him cry out in fear and pain as he turned around.

  He tried to drag himself away.

  Miguel hit him a few seconds later, knocking him back to the floor.

  He landed hard and it didn’t seem like he was going to get up.

  Miguel waited for him to take a knee then lunged again.

  His horn stuck through Lopez’s temple.

  A pulsating segment of brain was stuck to the end, blood pouring down the side of his head.

  Miguel pushed it fully through, then pulled it back.

  Lopez froze for a second then toppled to his left like a domino.

  Blood began to form a glistening pool beneath him.

  Morales seemed to have belatedly realised that Miguel was not going to be stopped by mere bullets and had begun to back away.

  The animal snorted at him, again Gonzalez would swear that it was smiling.

  It began to advance slowly, snorting and pawing the dirt with its front right foot.

  Morales backed away.

  Miguel followed him, shepherding him towards the nearest cow enclosure.

  Too late, Morales realised that one of the beasts was reaching its head over the top of the metal gate.

  One of the animals bit down on his wrist, holding him in place.

  Thick, stinking drool began to drip down the sides of his face as the other cow’s mouth opened over the top of his skull.

  Then it bit down hard, crushing his skull in a tidal wave of blood and pulverised brain matter.