Hawg

by Steven L. Shrewsbury

  Jordan pulled his head from the car and said, “It smells in there, like bad smokes and beer.”

  “I don’t see anyone,” Cassidy said quietly. “We better go.” Her little nose wrinkled. “This place stinks.”

  Jordan nodded once. “Maybe this guy drove through something. Sure smells like it.” He glanced at the vast graveyard full of odd sized stones, above ground crypts, shade trees and a couple statues. “My grampa’s grave is over here.”

  Cassidy followed him, still seeking around for someone.

  As he stopped by a large gray tombstone, Jordan pointed at a small gray building near the rear of the cemetery. “See the place over there that says White on it?”

  “Yeah, by the big Solow crypt?”

  “My great grandparents are in there. Tell ya a secret.”

  Her eyes looking down at the marker at their feet, she took her toes away from the veterans flat stone and said, “What?”

  “Dad says his great grandparents are really buried in the back of our property not far from Buddy. That was how they did it in the olden days.”

  Cassidy blinked. “Then what’s in that crypt?”

  “Well, let me tell ya…” Jordan started to say, but his expression changed. “The doors look open.”

  “Huh?”

  “On the crypt, see? The bars are usually locked, but they are open.”

  Jordan placed the flowers across the base of his grandfather’s stone. He then took a few steps away from the grave and stopped. “That’s goofy.”

  Cassidy glanced at the car and said, “We better get out of here, Jordan White. Maybe whoever is in that car is a grave robber.”

  That idea made Jordan scared and he hid it as best he could. “Yeah, we oughtta go then.” Still, he hesitated, fascinated by the crypt. As he turned, something caught his eye and he didn’t follow her. Jordan walked over behind a row of stones and said, “Jesus.”

  Halfway to her bike, Cassidy stopped and called out, “Jordan?” She then lowered her voice and hissed his name again.

  He wasn’t budging from the spot where he stood and she soon joined him.

  Cassidy was speechless as she too saw the two bodies, one on the grass, one partially on a tombstone.

  The body on the ground separated at the midsection. Not even his spine connected his ruined upper torso to his waist. A stunned expression etched frozen on the youth’s face. Even if very muddy and painted in blood, the two kids could make out his expression of shock. His ribcage exposed, Jordan couldn’t name the organs or pieces of his innards that lay spread out and crushed. The lower section of this young man’s leg was gone, savagely shorn to the knee.

  The other body was still sitting on the tombstone that resembled a chair. His head remained attached to his body, but hung on just barely by what Jordan guessed was a spinal cord. Most of the neck had been ripped loose. Jordan then saw a large portion of this young man’s right thigh gouged from his jeans. But the teen still sat there as if he passed out and would soon rise again.

  Neither nine year old said anything, so stationary at the sight. Jordan raised his head toward the crypt, and saw that something appeared lodged between the two stone caskets. He swallowed, eyes on the hind legs he thought were of a man, but were cleft like pig’s feet. Big pig’s feet.

  Slow in his motions, he reached out and took Cassidy’s hand. She never objected as Jordan started to back away from the spot. Though they were not moving fast in their exit of the area, Jordan kept looking back.

  Just before they passed by the car and the crypt would vanish from his sight, he saw the feet in the crypt stir.

  When they stopped to pick up their bikes, they heard a shrilling screech in the graveyard. Cassidy stared at Jordan, who could only motion for her to follow him out of the entrance. Always a talkative boy, Jordan had no more words to say.

  The shrill scream was as loud as a plane overhead and rattled around in both of their chests.

  ***

  Hawg awoke, ready to feed again. He pulled himself from the crypt and stretched his long body out. Nostrils flaring, he returned to the two he’d made a meal of earlier. Their bodies were colder and stiffening up on him badly. Still, he started to rip open the other thigh of the youth in the stone chair.

  He stopped in his motions, sensing something amiss. He let the teen go and dropped to all fours. Snout to the grass, he rooted all around and caught the scent of others. Boy and gilt, unbled, he smelt them deep. Their scents hung faint so Hawg understood them to be small, perhaps unworthy of his time. After all, he had meat and would find proper gilt as the night wore on.

  Then he heard voices, yes, children. He tilted his head, letting his ears pick up their words. Terror filled their throats, breaths popped in and out fast. In no hurry, Hawg trotted across the graveyard upright, trailing their scent. He passed the youth’s car and stopped once he reached the entrance to the cemetery.

  Hawg saw the two children, hardly bigger than runts in his red eyes. They appeared comical to him, scrambling across the highway, down a ditch and toward an opening in the train trestle.

  They spotted him as well. The girl screamed and the boy did his best not to, though his terror was clear in his eyes. Hawg never relocated, he only stood up tall on his hind legs, staring back at them. The boy was a runt, not worth eating. More meat awaited him back near the crypt. The other wasn’t yet gilt and wouldn’t be worth his time.

  Would they tell others of seeing him? Hawg reasoned they would. From tales old Elias spun him about the world and how many feared what was different, he couldn’t see older ones believing them…until they found the bodies Hawg left behind. Would slaying them only prolong the inevitable? He didn’t want to go back to the barn, at least not yet. Though the outside world was fearsome, he wanted to live and explore. He would just move on and these little ones would have a story to tell.

  Just as he was about to turn and go back to the crypt, Hawg caught a scent, a smell that drove him wild. Blood time. It was wafting on the winds from the trestle. Could the little one be gilt already? Surely not, but his loins burned at the odor and he wanted it more than food. His desire burning, Hawg dropped down and leapt through the entrance to the cemetery.

  ***

  “It’s coming after us,” Jordan yelled and stopped under the trestle. “Cassidy! C’mon!” He dropped his bike and bolted south along the trestle path.

  She screamed again, yet mimicked his actions. She ran after him and they stopped at the opening of the mine they’d seen earlier.

  Jordan pulled down a board that lay over the upper entrance, revealing a small slot of darkness. He grabbed her by the wrist and strove to boost her up, saying, “Ya gotta get in. It’s only a yard or so of a drop.”

  Cassidy was up the opening and saw nothing but blackness. “I can’t go in there!”

  When they heard the beast howl, her own scream stopped in her neck as Jordan pushed her legs. Cassidy slipped through the gap fast. Jordan grabbed the edges and pulled himself up. He swung a leg through the opening as he saw the creature step into view. Jordan froze; not dropping in the mine. The red eyes of the monster scanned the area, steel tusks shining in the afternoon sunlight. Cassidy pulled on his legs and Jordan fell into the mine opening.

  They had only seconds to breathe before the beast ripped at the sealed entrance. It pulled away several more boards, and even a few bricks, casting more light into the spot where Jordan and Cassidy held each other. The monster was like a digging machine, determined to get them. Dust rained on them and the howl of the beast popped their ears.

  Jordan eyed the dismal tunnel behind them and prepared to run into it.

  Suddenly, the beast stopped. Eyes on them, nostrils sucking wind fast, a look of confusion registered in its face. It stepped away from the opening a few feet, head tilted. It kept breathing, smelling. Then, back to them, it roared in the air.

  Cassidy whispered, “What is it?”

  Jordan shook his head fast, still holding her tight.
“Dunno. God I don’t know. Look! It smells something.”

  ***

  Micki worked up her courage and cried out again, but the only response was a recollection…a reminder of the time her pain came to her. In her blind agony, she thought she heard the beast again. No, it couldn’t be…

  But the strong odor of fecal matter returned and the deep grunts filled her ears. Micki felt the sharp claws swipe at her, knocking her backside to the weeds.

  Over her stood Hawg, his organ swinging, tongue on his tusks.

  Then, her nightmare started all over again.

  CHAPTER FIVE Going Home

  Hux killed his Harley as Nick Roberts stepped out of the small car. The other man with him, a quiet man of possible Mexican descent, also exited. He contemplated Hux, then stared off to where Nick stared. Roberts looked down at the device in his hand and then back to Hux. The only sound in their ears was that of the lapping water in the belly of the vast stone quarry.

  “Well,” Hux said, never getting off his Harley. “Looks like yer shit outta luck, pal.”

  Roberts frowned and stared back at the object in his hand. “No doubt about it, this is where the tracker is. Very strange.”

  Hux folded his arms across his chest as they all stared across the vast expanse of water before them. The piles of sand, rock and gouged out bluffs hemmed in the artificial lake. The area appeared more in tune with a canyon in the southwest, for the cold, lifeless arms of the rocks embraced the waters.

  “Quarries are mighty deep,” Hux told them in a matter of fact voice. “Good luck in getting your tracker back now.”

  Roberts dropped his hand and turned to face Hux. As he did this motion, the other man reached behind his back. Before a gun could appear, Hux had a small derringer from the sleeve of his leather jacket in his hand, aimed at the Mexican’s face. The man froze, gun in his hand, but aiming at the ground.

  “Ya’all don’t wanna do that now.” Hux said with a calm voice, eyes wide, but showing no fear. “Don’t be pinning this on me. I had nothing to do with it.”

  Rage boiled through Roberts’ serpentine face. “Who else could’ve double crossed us, fool?” Eyes to his partner, Roberts snapped, “He couldn’t hit anything with that little thing. Kill him, Rico.”

  True enough, derringers were very inaccurate. Hux never pulled the trigger as Rico went into motion, eyes focused on the small gun in Hux’s hand. The biker’s left hand rested on the gas tank of his Harley and he drummed his fingers once. From under the cams of the bike something hissed, the air split and Rico jerked in his motion, never able to boost the gun. He gawked down, seeing the black taped handle of a blade protruding from his belly. The rest of the weapon was buried inside of him, probably knicking his spine, for he suddenly couldn’t move.

  “Dumbasses,” Hux said as he climbed off the Harley like it was a steed. “Bring a gun to a knife fight.” A few strides brought him close to Rico. Derringer to the man’s temple, Hux pulled the trigger. The bullet made a pop as it left the chamber and a similar echo when it entered Rico’s skull. The man, scrammed, twisting backwards before flipping over by the edge of the quarry. The splash was great and the sloshing sound soon ebbed away to nothing.

  Robert’s face flushed. “I didn’t think you’d have the stones to kill someone.”

  Hux shrugged. “After the first one or two of you dope heads, it’s easy. But I never killed the mule on the way down. Ya gotta believe me, I never crossed ya’all up. I know nada about it all.”

  Roberts broke a sweat at last, his destiny apparent. “Wonderful trick with the projectile knife under the bike. How did you do that?”

  “I built the block to the Harley myself. Talent is there and when the will follows, one never knows what can be made to spec.” Hux squared himself to Roberts. “Now, what to do with you.”

  Roberts sneered, “You kill me, your life won’t be worth spit here.”

  “If I don’t kill you, you dance back to Cicero and I wake up dead some morning anyways. I can’t see that as a good thing, sparky.”

  Right eyebrow rising, Roberts said, “Perhaps we can compromise.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Though the first thing both men heard was a distant howl echo across the territory.

  ***

  Jordan and Cassidy couldn’t see what Hawg did beyond the ditch. They heard the creature’s repeated short grunts and the pained screams of a woman. Still, they clutched each other and said at the same time, “What is it?”

  Jordan spoke up and said, “It looks like a pig and a man had a baby.”

  “That’s impossible,” Cassidy said quietly, her bottom jaw shaking so much her teeth chattered.

  Jordan trembled and said, “Yeah, I know it is. It looks like one, though. The metal stuff on its face might be a mask.”

  “Where did it come from?”

  Jordan said nothing, trying to understand it all. The cries of a female voice, gurgling and coughing as Hawg howled, stabbed in his ears so hard he wanted to plug them up.

  “Will he come back for us?”

  Jordan was quiet for a while and then said, “I don’t know. He can’t get in. Did you see how mad he got when he couldn’t break the beams and bricks?”

  Cassidy’s tears erupting from her eyes, she cried, “What if he can when he gets back?”

  Jordan said, “Then we have to run farther into the mine. Maybe he will leave.”

  They heard the screams for another minute, though it sounded like longer. The human shouts stopped long before Hawg’s howls calmed.

  The beast stepped back into their range of vision. His manhood swinging, slick and bloody, his eyes focusing on their bikes under the trestle. At last, Hawg stared at the mine entrance. Chest pumping, the creature sucked air until its breaths evened out. There seemed no hurry to its actions. With rapid steps, Hawg trotted to the mine entrance. Claws on the beam, he peered into the opening and at the faces of the kids. Again, he took deep breaths, but slower this time.

  “Go away,” Jordan said in a halted voice. “Get!” his voice rose in power and he ordered Hawg, “Get on home now! Get, you hear?”

  Red eyes glimmering, Hawg looked at the little girl. Her bottom lip quivered along with the rest of her body and her nose started to run.

  They could smell him. His breath was fetid and ghastly, but slowing down its pace as he stared at them. A droplet of blood fell from his left steel tusk and struck the beam that prevented his entry. Not one drop of sweat beaded on the beast, though.

  “Go home!” Jordan ordered. “Get now, hog!”

  The beast turned from them and paused. They gaped at his curled tail, then held their breath and he dropped to his all fours. After a few moments of stillness, the beast began to trot away. Cassidy put her hand on her mouth when Hawg started to defecate running at full speed. In another moment, he was gone from their line of sight.

  They stared for a long time before Jordan said, “God, we gotta get out of here.”

  Cassidy gripped him tighter. “Not yet. I can’t move.”

  Hand on her long hair, Jordan nodded. “I’ll stay with you.”

  ***

  Hungry from covering the ruined gilt, Hawg departed. The little ones weren’t worth his labors to get to them.

  Hawg traveled along the long grasses of the waterway. In his mind, there was a slight bit of trepidation. Hawg comprehended that his actions would draw attention. The safety of the barn called to him, true, but his freedom brought new tastes, adventures, and also fear. Still, he didn’t want to go home. He never wanted to be shut up in the barn again, no matter how much he missed the feeling of safety there. No, this was much better. Even if the men found a way to get rid of him or cage him, this freedom was worth it. It was so much better than confinement. He hated a pen. He hated a fence. Hawg hated walls. When he inspected the space where the children hid, he felt the confinement loom. The place where he slept the night before was secure, but it wasn’t quite home.

  His gait
steady and consistent, he heard cars on occasion and flattened out to avoid detection. Eyes were everywhere in the outside world. That meant danger. Hawg neared his home, the olden place where he lived for ages. He couldn’t recall for how long. In his head, there was no concept of time, but he was glad the open spaces near the Gilmore farm allowed him liberty to progress, unmolested.

  Hawg spotted the trailer of Elias, the old man who fed him and cared for him all of his days. He missed Elias. The man was good to him. Hawg felt no anger for him or the farmer. Eyes keen on the other trailer nearby, Hawg slowly inched closer to this place. Nostrils extending, Hawg neared the porch holding the corpulent woman, covered in a half finished afghan.

  Her head tilted, eyes closed. Her dog’s head rose up, ears back. However, the dog never barked, but a low whine held in its throat.

  “Easy Duke. Hello? Are you there?” she said.

  Hawg drew close to the deck, but never set a claw nail on it.

  “I know you are there, honey. Are you being good?”

  Hawg breathed deep, but uttered no sound. His tusks drew in a bit.

  Luella said, “I hope you are not being too naughty, honey. Those men are around and looking for something to blame for bad things. You be good, you hear me, Hawg?”

  With a glance under her deck, Hawg thought only to rest. His stomach was full, but the run over to Luella’s had burnt off some of that. The joints in his body ached. The exercise made him feel incredible. He was not used to being so free and able to explore his abilities. He glanced to the farmhouse of the Solow place. His head snapped back, focused on what he saw.

  “What is it, boy?” Luella asked, concern on her face.

  Hawg lowered to the earth and couldn’t take his eyes off the house and the round barn.

  “Take a rest, honey,” she told Hawg. “You must be tired. They all came by earlier. They won’t bother me none again for some time.”