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The Cure

by Bethanie Clark

By Bethanie ClarkPublished 3 years ago 10 min read
2
The Cure
Photo by Carlos "Grury" Santos on Unsplash

‘The elusive Holmford Bay Great White has finally been located 3 weeks after it’s initial discovery. The shark has been giving our hunters a swim for their money, for the majority of June they have tailed it all along the East Coast. On the 15th we were heartbroken to announce that the trail had gone cold after 3 days with no sightings. Thankfully, Mary Gaul of Turnasea, was swimming with her children this morning when they spotted the large fin cutting through the water towards them.’

‘My my, must have been a fright for them Terry!’

‘Nothing a Turnasea cream cake won’t fix I’m sure, Ron!’

‘Now you’re talking Terry, how about we head there after the show? We could even shake the hands of those little kiddies.’

The two men guffawed over the airwaves, Charlie’s hand twitched against the power button, then rested in his lap, trembling.

‘We are elated to bring this news to the people across the nation who have been patiently waiting for their treatment. After months of knock-backs and disappointment this day is a triumph for the hunters who have worked tirelessly over the last 6 months. We at Channel 7 were lucky enough to speak to one of our nation’s heroes this morning...’

Charlie turned the key in his ignition, a half turn so the radio continued. He increased the volume and buried his scowling face in his hands, his elbows bouncing up and down on restless legs.

‘We are overjoyed by the discovery of the Great White this morning, we believe that this individual is large enough to provide a cure for over 120 people. The days and nights at sea are incredibly hard but seeing those bodies hanging from the deck makes it all worth while.’

‘Here, here! The East Coast Hunters are due to be setting sail at first light. If you, or loved ones, have been waiting for the cure, make sure the hunters are in your-’

Charlie yanked the key from the ignition and gripped it in his fist. He sat for a moment, staring at the dead display on his radio, his breathing ragged. The horizon was pink but the water boasted no beautiful reflection, the gentle ripple of the waves looked more like undulating earth than water. From Charlie’s cliff top vantage, the surface of the bay was textured, the green hue was barely visible in the dusk. He locked his car and tucked the key behind the wheel arch. He checked his reflection in the wing mirror, he had hoped that confident eyes would greet him, but instead a pale, clammy constitution stared out at him. He pulled his hood over his head and zipped his coat up to the top, covering the lower half of his face.

The descent down the cliff side was precarious at best, the meandering path was far too narrow in places and deceptively steep in others. When he reached the bottom, the smell of the bay consumed him. Bloated corpses of seagulls littered the beach alongside half eaten fish, all left to rot in the summer heat. He quickly walked along the sea front, along the boarded cafes and shops. He paused outside of McGinty’s Diner, once the social hub of the town, now a sorrowful sentry watching over the tarnished bay. All of the pivotal moments in his life had been lived in this little bay, first bike ride, first swimming lesson, driving lesson, first kiss, first heartbreak. In under a year, a town of memories had been lost to the unbalance of the ecosystem.

Cure H7JK was discovered by Janya Khatri, a freshly graduated biology student from Yale. Janya had been dissecting the discarded carcasses of finned sharks in the hope of finding a purpose for them. She found that the stress live sharks endured while being finned released a calming agent into the blood stream, Hartonin 7yx, which, modified during a lengthy set of precisely timed, highly intricate procedures, resulted in an extremely volatile substance coined H7JK- the cure for 68% of the world’s cancers. In one month 23% of the sharks across the globe had been culled, including the extinction of 4 different species. With the absence of an apex predator, lesser predators thrived and multiplied, pushing their prey to the edge of existence. The weak and sick that the sharks would usually prey on, survived and bred, spreading maladies and poor genetics through their species. Survival of the fittest was a thing of the past and the ecosystem was sent into disarray. The oceans died and took their tourism down with them. Unemployment sky rocketed, closely followed by suicide rates.

Charlie had reached the entrance to the docks. Even at this hour, the place was abuzz with workers and their duties. He pulled nervously at the zip on his coat, it was as high as it could go, only his eyes and the bridge of his nose were visible. His unsteady breath steamed against the fabric of his coat, his skin was damp.

‘People lined the streets of Berksfield this afternoon to celebrate the cull, many even dressed for the occasion-’

Charlie risked a glance through the security office window, the guard was snoring loudly against his desk. The TV flashed with images of people laughing and celebrating, wearing shark costumes with crosses in place of eyes. He pressed his body to the wall of the office and pulled the coat from around his mouth, desperately trying to steady his breathing. His heart drummed with rage in beat with the parade drums on the television. He slipped from the wall and under the barrier. Once inside, he tried to act casual and blend in with the hundreds of people milling around, workers, drivers, visitors. A few people eyed him suspiciously but said nothing, others nodded and greeted him. The din from the machines was deafening but couldn’t contend with the blood thrashing around his ears. He leant against a wall near a small group of workers and looked at his phone, trying to imitate a man on his break. He pulled up the news article he had seen two days prior, a photo of the hunter’s fleet situated in the docks- the hunters proudly beaming from the deck, three bloodied tiger sharks hanging at their side. He zoomed in on the yellow building in the background and then looked around. He spotted it, further North, he started walking again.

“Oi, lad!” A voice called from the group behind. Charlie froze in his tracks, his blood turned to ice in his veins. “You got a light?” Charlie’s shoulders sagged in relief, he turned back to the man and offered him his lighter. “Who you workin’ under?”

“Fred.” Charlie shuddered at the hitch in his voice, he really hoped Fred still worked at the docks. The man put his cigarette to his lips and narrowed his eyes at Charlie as he took a drag.

“Tommy ‘ere works for Fred.” He waved his cigarette at a young man glued to his phone nearby, Tommy didn’t look up. “You seen ‘im before Tommy? I’ve never seen ‘im.” There was an edge in the man’s voice that churned Charlie’s stomach.

“Eh?” Tommy grunted, looking dazed as he peered up from his phone.

“Him” The man jabbed his cigarette at Charlie, “you know ‘im?” Charlie shuffled his feet, hoping the group couldn’t see the sweat beading on his forehead.

“Prolly.” Tommy shrugged and returned to his phone immediately. Charlie grinned uncomfortably at the group, several of whom were regarding him with disinterest, the man with his lighter seemed satisfied with Tommy’s non-committal response and turned back to the group. Charlie cleared his throat.

“May I?” He spoke to the man’s shoulder.

“Wha’?”

“May I have my lighter back?” The man scowled at Charlie but pressed the lighter into his hand. Charlie quickly retreated from the group and towards the yellow building. The flood lights in the yard were blinding, but the yellow building was cast in darkness. It sat beyond a gate, sealed from the other side, dreadfully sharp spikes at it’s peak. Charlie could just make out the sign at the front of the building ‘East Coast Cure Seekers’ the logo, a man grinning, a dead shark slung over his shoulder. This was it, Charlie slipped down beside the container and the fence and huddled down in the shadows.

It was almost midnight when the noise in the docks finally died down. Charlie waited a little while longer until the floodlights were turned off and darkness descended. He stayed in his hiding place until 2.30am, he had strained his ears until all he could hear was his own rapid breathing. With difficulty he clambered onto the container he had used for cover, pushing off from the fence. Charlie took a deep breath and leapt over the spikes. He rolled on impact and to his relief, came away relatively unscathed, having only torn the leg of his jeans. He repositioned his clothing so again only his eyes were showing, and moved down the decking to the docked fleet. He took a few minutes at each boat to listen, to make sure there was no one on board. When he was confident all were empty, he returned to the first boat and grabbed the petrol cannister.

****

Charlie could barely remember reaching the car, only flashes, brief moments in time. Running, crying, climbing, vomiting. A small patch of the ocean reflecting orange and red on the gentle waves, oddly beautiful. He drove passed his road, continued out of town and pulled his car down the dirt path into the forest. The steering wheel trembled in his already shaking hands, images of him losing control and veering off the road whirred around his mind. He killed the ignition and threw the door open, his clothes lay in a pile on the floor before he had reached the trees.

The headlights cast terrifying shadows around the forest, like people watching, knowing what he’d done, looming ever closer. He ran through the trees, the lights struggling to make it through the density of the forest, he ran by memory. Falling to his knees at the grand oak, he felt around until his fingertips brushed over his rucksack. He exchanged the fresh clothes for those that smelled of smoke and guilt, quickly dressed and returned the rucksack to it’s hiding place. Premeditated, if they find the bag, they’ll know it was planned. He pushed it deeper into the bush until his arms were raw with scratches.

****

Charlie paused on his doorstep, resting his head against the door. His throat burned and tears threatened his eyes. He tiptoed across the threshold and into his room, where he lay staring at the ceiling until the sun rose.

****

“You were in the shower early this morning.” His mother smiled at him, he couldn’t look at her, he busied himself with the burnt crust left on his plate. She ran a comforting hand along his shoulders and kissed his head as she passed, she leant on the window sill and sighed. “I know you don’t like to talk about it Charlie, I know you’re against the cull.” She paused and glanced back at him, he stared at the table. “But if they catch this Great White...here…well surely they’ll distribute the cure to the locals.” She cleared her throat. “You wouldn’t be in pain any more Charlie.” Warm tears gently rolled down his cheeks. “You could go back to University.” She moved over to him and wrapped her arms around him. “Your hair would grow back.” He pressed his face into his hands. “You could have a life again Charlie and if saving the sharks is really what you want to do and what you’re passionate about, you could work towards that-” His mother released him, something outside had distracted her. Charlie followed her to the window, outside the street was illuminated by flashing blue light.

Sci Fi
2

About the Creator

Bethanie Clark

Hi I'm Beth from Derbyshire in the UK, all I've ever wanted to do is write, now I just need to trade my soul for some motivation to do it! I'm also painfully aware of the irony that I can't think of much to write here...

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