Mid-Summer Catch
Large iridescent tails flashed amid the swell of an incoming wave. I counted five, then spotted a sixth. Vibrant-hued scales–purple, orange and red–dazzling in the sunlight, darkened to a blur as they streaked beneath the aquamarine surface of the Pacific toward shore like a homing torpedo.
I blew a shrill warning-whistle first, then used the bullhorn to call all swimmers to shore.
As people fled screaming, these ghastly fish fed. Possessing human torsos, arms and heads they emerged from the sea, hunted on the beach. Their shark-like teeth shredded flesh, crushed bone.
Sated, they retreated into the surf, dragging away a solitary corpse.
Cowering inside the lifeguard shack, peering out, I counted twenty-two patches of ruby red sand.