Outlaw Tiger

by Terry Bolryder

  After all, they were family.

  “This is all the info I have.” Harrison finished, handing over a small scrap of paper that only had a time, place, and the name and number of the news station so Dallas knew who to look for.

  Even without this info, he could find this reporter and follow them like a hawk trailing its prey.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Dallas said, stepping out of the shade and clapping Harrison on the shoulder as he passed. Harrison thankfully didn’t return the gesture, which Dallas appreciated because he hated the feeling of other people—even his best friend—touching him.

  By the time he’d taken three steps, the information on the paper had been memorized, and he crumpled it up and tossed it into a trash bin as he decided the conveyance he’d use to get to Parson’s Creek.

  It irked Dallas to think of these nosy humans putting their faces into business that didn’t involve them. After all, it was Harrison and the others that had fought off the basilisks and protected not only Dragonclaw Ranch but all the other farms that bordered their sprawling spread.

  But even as that strange scent on the wind, that feeling of change, caught his senses one more time, Dallas decided he would do whatever it took to keep these people from discovering the secrets that belonged to the dragons of Dragonclaw Ranch.

  He would protect his family.

  No matter the cost.

  2

  Melinda Carpenter, or just Mel to everyone who knew her, was stuck trying to keep a straight face while she intently interviewed a man they’d just met on the street in Parson’s Creek.

  “I tell ya, I saw it with my own eyes! As big as a mountain with a gaze that would scare the pants off even the devil!” the man named Harry exclaimed, reeking more than a little of an afternoon trip to the bar.

  “What did the creature do?” Mel asked, pulling the microphone in her hand back a bit as Harry tried to lean closer to it as if he weren’t already loud enough the whole street could hear him.

  She and her cameraman, Trent, had arrived in the sleepy town of Parson’s Creek earlier that afternoon. And from the minute she’d set foot on the ground, awed by the quiet peace and rugged beauty of this remote location in Texas, she’d been on the hunt.

  For years, she’d worked as a reporter for Channel 8 news, part of a local branch based out of the suburbs of Houston. And for years, she’d been doing filler pieces about bakeries and local holidays and all sorts of other things that made people click their remotes to change to another channel.

  But now? Now was supposed to be her big break. Her shot at something really interesting.

  Though, as big as whatever Harry was talking about, she wasn’t sure.

  “It roared, and I could see spikes the size of flagpoles all along its back, and horns the length of school buses—”

  “Did it spout fire too?” Trent asked sarcastically as he haphazardly hefted the camera around.

  How he had gotten a job as a cameraman in the first place, she didn’t know.

  Oh yeah, nepotism. That was how.

  “Not helpful,” she replied to Trent, who shrugged as she focused back on Harry, who was starting to wobble a little.

  “Talk to Vern up at Hillson Ranch. He saw it too! Even got a video of it.”

  Video evidence? Now that was something worth pursuing.

  Not that she was sure what to make of this drunk, raving cowpoke’s tale in the first place. But inebriated or not, he was nice enough to speak with her, which was better than their initial reception when they’d arrived in town.

  Most of the passers-by had eyed her with suspicious expressions as they went about their business.

  “Aaand that’s a wrap,” Trent exclaimed, removing his camera from his shoulder before Mel had even fully concluded the interview. She wanted to say something about it, but trying to get Trent to do something he didn’t want to was nearly impossible. So instead, she thanked Harry one more time for the interview.

  Before she left, though, Harry glared at her with his jaundiced eyes. “Beware the sleeping giants. Beware the gazes of ba—”

  “Are you coming or not?” Trent interrupted, sounding annoyed, and Mel scurried after him before Harry had even more cryptic things to say.

  “I think you sometimes forget I’m the reporter here,” she said with a huff.

  Trent just groaned as he opened the door of the van. Thankfully, it was unmarked, just another vehicle with their equipment inside it.

  “Dude was clearly on something.”

  “On something or not, I think it’s worth pursuing.” Strange reports of unexplainable things that had filtered through local newspapers and stations began arriving on her desk a few days ago and led to this excursion in the first place.

  It had taken three hours of begging her boss to let her have a week to come here and see if there was any substance to the reports of giant monsters that appeared during rainstorms and flying beasts that ruled the plains.

  So far, it was just another small town in the heart of Texas.

  But monsters or not, there was something about this wild, beautiful land she’d never seen before. Remote. Quiet. Devoid of all the distractions and noise of the city.

  A girl could get used to living out here, she thought.

  “There’s still enough light outside. We should see if anyone else has heard about the disturbances,” Mel said, invigorated by the orange and blue sky above that seemed to stretch out forever in every direction.

  Trent rolled his eyes. “But I have to pack up all the equipment, lock it up, back up the footage to our internal storage…”

  “That takes five minutes.”

  “And I’m starving. So I’m going to go get something to eat.”

  She paused, deciding whether she wanted to join him or not. After all, he wasn’t the worst co-worker she’d ever had. He was just a bit stubborn at times.

  “You go ahead. I’ll just walk to the hotel when I’m done.” Thankfully, the town itself was only a few blocks from end to end, and their hotel was right in the middle of it.

  Trent shrugged and busied himself with the equipment. “Suit yourself.”

  She handed the microphone back to him, then pulled a small audio recording device out of her pocket. There was still daylight, and she sure as heck wasn’t going to waste it when the hope of something so much bigger going on still lingered in the air.

  Leaving Trent behind, she made her way to the nearest pedestrian, fearlessly introducing herself and asking if the person would be interested in answering a few questions.

  The man promptly said no, and Mel went on her way.

  The next hour passed quickly in this fashion. And before she knew it, the sun had all but set, leaving trails of purple and dark blue at the edges of the horizon as the moon began to rise behind her.

  Mel took a moment and just breathed in the clean, fresh air. Even with her body still aching from the long drive and her spirits a little downtrodden from the lack of further prospects, this sure beat doing any of the many repetitive things back at her office.

  Even if she couldn’t shake the strange feeling of being watched.

  But every time she turned around, there was nothing but a warm breeze and the occasional tumbleweed rolling through town to disrupt the silence.

  One more try and we’ll turn in, she promised herself.

  She approached a lone man leaning against the wall of an empty alley, smoking. And though her instincts knew better, she had her phone, her recorder, and mace on her at all times.

  Good things don’t come to those who wait, her mom had always said.

  “Good evening, sir,” she said, introducing herself briefly. “Do you have time to answer a few questions?”

  The man, probably in his late thirties, had a beat-up hat, ragged brown beard, and dirty clothes. The instant she spoke, he sneered down at her, even as his eyes leered over Mel’s body in a creepy way that made goose bumps form on her forearms.

  “Ugh,” he sai
d, though he didn’t take his gaze off of hers.

  “I’m doing a story on the strange occurrences going on here in Parson’s Creek. And I was wondering if—”

  Suddenly, she felt someone behind her, so close they were almost breathing down her neck.

  “I’ll give ya a story,” a male voice slurred.

  She whirled around to see three men, all who looked somewhat like the first man, standing in front of her. They looked like cowboys but definitely not the gentlemanly kind, based on their creepy grins and general lack of any hygiene whatsoever.

  “I—” She stuttered, trying to keep her cool. “I appreciate that.”

  With the sound of heavy boots, the man behind her kicked off the wall and joined what she supposed were his friends, the four of them cornering her into the alley.

  Nothing to worry about.

  They just wanted an interview, right?

  The man in front stepped forward, forcing Mel to take a step back, and she could see the predatory gleams on their faces. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed her worst fears. There was no outlet, and the alley was even shallower than she’d thought, maybe only ten or so feet, bricked off by the adjoining buildings.

  Only a single dim light bulb cast any sort of light into the dark corners surrounding her on every side. She could barely make out the men’s forms as they caged her in, leaving only the light above her as they surrounded her from the shadows with evil gazes.

  Crap, crap and double crap.

  “You hear the story about the city slicker that had the night of her life in Parson’s Creek?” the leader asked his companions.

  “I love this story,” said a friend at his side, licking his lips in a way that made even leeches seem like friendly creatures.

  “Yeah. They say the uppity bitch had it coming. That she screamed all night, but nobody ever found her.”

  A hand brushed across her shoulder from somewhere, and she whipped around, palming the pepper spray in her pocket. The men were circling like wolves, and she knew it was only a matter of time before they pounced.

  She’d spray them and run for the street. That was her only option.

  “What’s wrong? Aren’t you going to interview me?” the man asked.

  But Mel was already counting down in her head, every nerve in her body on edge.

  Three… two…

  But before she could pull the small canister out of her pocket, there was yelp behind her.

  Not a yelp. More like a muffled scream.

  She turned around, not sure what or who had made the noise.

  And around her, the men had stopped moving.

  How were there only three all of a sudden?

  Her eyes were still having trouble adjusting to the darkness, though, and the blinking light above her didn’t help. Her hand tensed again, ready to go…

  Then the shadow in front of her, the man she’d first approached who’d been smoking at the alley, suddenly was pulled away from the halo of light surrounding her. She could swear she saw movement from behind him, something in the darkness. But only the light scuffling of heaven knew what scraping across the ground remained as any evidence that the guy had been there a moment ago.

  The other two, aware of what Mel was now aware of, were wildly turning around, fists raised, attention no longer on her.

  What in the actual freak was happening?

  “Who’s there? Show yourself, bastard!” The man standing next to the leader screamed into the silence, eyes wild as they caught flecks of the lamppost’s light.

  Mel’s vision was starting to adjust, though. And to her utter horror, she saw an arm reach down from above them as if coming from the rooftop of the shops they were sandwiched between. In a motion so swift it was like watching helicopter blades move, the hand grasped the man by the neck, and he was lifted up and away like something from a horror movie.

  Only a muffled yelp, followed by something that sounded like a dull thud, punctuated the eerie, absolutely terrifying darkness.

  “What the fuck do you want? Come out and fight me like a man!” The leader’s gaze was wild, and he swung at nothing but dancing shadows as Mel backed away, trying to make sense of what was happening.

  There was a pause, and for a second, the silence was so pervasive it was deafening. Not a sound. Not a noise. Not even a cricket.

  Then a fist appeared from the inky blackness next to the evil man, and a thunderous CRACK shattered the quiet like a gunshot.

  The man’s head flew to the side as droplets of something splattered onto the ground, and he fell flat onto his back. Then, from the edges of the light, she saw a big hand grab the unconscious man by the boot, and he was dragged away into the darkness by a huge shadow that loomed like some feral beast making away with its prey.

  Her heart stopped as the shapeless form reached the end of the alley.

  But instead of some creature, she saw a man. Huge by normal standards, broad in the shoulders and well over six feet. And for a moment, she could make out a dark Stetson on the man’s head, even as he continued to drag the lifeless body of the man he’d laid out with one punch like it was a dishrag.

  Then she watched as she heard what sounded like a low growl rumbling against the walls around her.

  And then, in the blink of an eye, the shadow was gone.

  Fear and curiosity warring inside her, Mel dashed for the exit to the alley. But as she reached the street, which seemed bright and well-lit in comparison to the alley, she saw nothing.

  Not a single soul at either end of the long thoroughfare that made up Main Street of Parson’s Creek.

  Mel shivered from head to toe, wrapping her arms around herself as she tried to make sense of everything that had just happened.

  How could someone move so fast? How could someone be so quiet as to dispatch four grown men while hardly making a single noise?

  Either way, she wasn’t going to wait around to see if whatever that… thing had been was going to stick around to do to her whatever had been done to those men.

  Maybe it was just exhaustion from the long drive and the hot Texas sun.

  But as she pulled her phone out, turning on the flashlight and bolting for the hotel down the street, Mel Carpenter knew only one thing: There was something going on here in this little town.

  And she was going to get to the bottom of it.

  3

  Dallas watched from his booth across the diner as the determined reporter interviewed an old woman who was hemming and hawing at the details of her own story.

  The reporter’s name was Mel (according to the note from Harrison), and after last night, Dallas could tell she was going to be trouble.

  Roaming the streets when it was dark, trying to interview the most questionable sort of people just to find leads for her story.

  His dedication to staying in the shadows meant that he should have left her to fend for herself. After all, she was a problem for him, and things would be much easier if she stopped asking questions and just disappeared.

  But his tiger could never allow that to happen, not in a million years. Especially not when he’d seen the fear in her eyes, fear he knew all too well from his youth.

  Dallas had gained many things from his short time on the streets, most of all a hatred for bullies and a natural protective instinct for anyone being preyed upon.

  Although, it had been a long time since anyone had stirred this kind of reaction in him. There was definitely something different about this reporter.

  As he was eyeing her, trying to decide what that was, his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out, eyeing the caller ID.

  It was Harrison.

  Dallas leaned back and rested his arm on the red vinyl booth as he held the phone to his ear.

  “Yes?”

  “How’re things going? They gone yet?” Harrison asked.

  “Nope.”

  A low grumble on the other side signaled the dragon’s discontent. “Any idea when they’ll leave?”<
br />
  Dallas shrugged. “End of the week maybe.” He looked out the window. “She’s determined, boss.”

  “I heard,” Harrison replied. “For now, just keep watching her.”

  “Yup.” Dallas nodded, frowning as a cascade of footsteps neared him. “Gotta go.”

  Just as he ended the call and shoved his phone into his pocket, the reporter sat down in the booth across from him.

  “Hi,” she said, smiling at him.

  He just stared at her, eyes wide as he eyed her up and down. She had sparkling brown eyes, beautiful dark skin, and curly dark hair that was smoothed back into a tight ponytail.

  She was even more stunning up close than at a distance, not that he had noticed when following her, and her snug blue jeans and grey blazer did little to hide her gorgeous curves.

  “I’m Mel, a reporter for Channel 8. I saw you sitting alone and thought I might ask if you could help me out.”

  Shit.

  Dallas needed to get out of here. He was supposed to be shadowing her from a distance, not sharing a booth with her. Still, it wasn’t like she was getting anything out of him.

  He returned her gaze, jaw flexing as he held his silence.

  Mel smiled amusedly. “What? Not much for words? That’s fine. I listen to people talk all day, so it’s refreshing in a way. Plus, you can always just nod or shake your head.”

  Dallas just continued to watch her.

  “See.” She went on brightly. “I’m here on account of some of the weirdest rumors I’ve ever heard. Something about huge monsters rising from the earth and people being able to transform into animals and whatnot.”

  He cocked an eyebrow, and she laughed.

  “Funny, right? I didn’t think any of it could be true, but I wanted to come out and see for myself.” She leaned forward intently. “I wanted to get to the truth.”

  Dallas eyed her again. He was becoming more and more curious about her by the minute. Curious about this reporter from the city who was so intent on walking down dark, country alleyways just to find out about something that would likely get her killed: shifters.