The helicopter shuddered and there was a loud thud behind Daniel, followed by a very distinct, very loud and menacing growl. Jenny’s eyes popped open and she whispered loudly, “What was that?”
Jack crawled on his stomach to Jenny and laid his head in her lap. He whimpered softly.
“Bear,” Daniel whispered. “Has to be…”
Jenny thought Daniel’s tone was odd. Has to be? It sounded as if Daniel was trying to convince himself, and that he was failing.
“Bear? Are we…”
“Shhhhhhhh”
Another growl from outside, followed by a clearly audible huffing sound. Daniel felt a bit reassured by that sound…it was the same type of sound a bear made when sniffing for prey or other food sources. His shoulders relaxed just a bit. I can deal with a bear.
His moment of comfort ended, however, when he turned his head to look out the front windshield, and saw a massive black shape straddled across the nose of the helicopter, peering into the cockpit…the creature’s muscled, fur-covered upper torso pressed fully against the plexiglass . The face was that of pure nightmare. Ghosts, goblins, ghouls…all were soft and cuddly things that little girls curled up with for comfort and reassurance when compared to the demonic, grotesque misshapen head that looked right through Daniel Coahoma. Its dog-like snout was parted, long, black, wet lips wrinkled in a fiendish snarl, exposing rows of impossibly large teeth.
Daniel could not breathe and for what seemed like forever, his eyes locked with the diamond yellow eyes of the thing. When it roared, breaking the deadlock, Daniel thought his heart had completely stopped.
Jenny screamed. The beast roared again, this time accompanying the roar with a deafening blow to the plexiglass windshield. Daniel finally found the will to move, and his instincts took over. He brought the rifle barrel up and fired twice at the huge form. His instincts failed him, however, in that he did not shield himself from the bright muzzle blast. Even with a flash suppressor, the blast from a rifle became a powerful torch that could ruin night vision…and this rifle had no suppressor at all. The blasts lit the cabin like a camera-flash, blinding Daniel to the dark.
The creature howled flailed backward, puzzled for a moment by the pain and its own blood. Daniel took a second to let his eyes adjust, but he realized he could not afford to wait. He pointed the rifle intent on firing again…but just as he squeezed the trigger the thing dove from the windshield and was gone. The rifle went off with another ear-splitting roar in the confines of the helicopter, but the bullet only did more damage to the now caved-in windshield.
Daniel closed his eyes at the split-second of the trigger-pull, hoping to help retain his vision in the dark cabin. Jenny had stopped screaming and pulled her knees up to her face. She yelled for Daniel to kill it while in the same breath demanding he tell her just what it was.
Jack had come alive, no longer whimpering or cowering—now standing fully erect in the small space of the cabin floor, sandwiched between Daniel’s legs and Jenny’s sitting form. His tail was curled tightly and the fur along his spine and on his thick neck stood erect. His teeth were bared in a fearsome snarl.
Daniel wished that he had just a little more light. The almost drained glow of an instrument panel light gave him just enough visibility to barely make things out in the cabin. Jack suddenly turned toward Jenny, scaring her even more as she feared the dog was now growling at her in the chaos of the moment. “Jack, NO!” she yelled, but Jack looked right through her, and then up to the window above Jenny’s head. He barked in unison with a loud bang as the creature pounded into the door. The middle of the door caved inward and pressed into Jenny’s back. In her frightened state she took an instinctive leap forward to get away and tangled with Jack and knocked Daniel backward.
Daniel cursed as he shoved her forcefully aside. He brought the rifle up and aimed it point blank at the sliding door. The sound of the shot deafened them again. Daniel knew he had shot low…far too low…but he believed he might have hit the creature again when it suddenly roared in unmistakable pain.
Jenny had made her way around Daniel’s kneeling form and flattened herself against the door on the opposite side of the cabin. She was now directly behind Daniel. Jack had leaped up onto the bench where Steven lay and he stood over him, growling and snapping at the air while facing the damaged door.
With a loud ‘pop’ the rectangular plexiglass window of the sliding door flew into the cabin. A large shaggy-coated, muscle-bound arm reached inside, groping for anything it could reach. There was just enough light to make out the huge claws on the human-like hand, outstretched fingers probing the air for something to grasp. Jack leaped forward, seventy pounds of fury knocking Daniel to the side. Like a vision straight from a monster movie, Jack latched onto the arm just below the wrist and hung in the air momentarily as the creature tried to pull the arm back outside. The thing, failing to pull away, slammed his body into the door. The thin aluminum bent wildly inward in a massive v-shape, creating a large gap, open to the outside. Jack could not place all four of his paws on the floor with the creature’s wrist in his mouth, so he tugged wildly backward shaking his head left and right with such ferocity that Daniel did not know how the dog kept from snapping his own neck.
In the chaos, Daniel had become oddly calm, the initial shock of the encounter with the mystifying, terrifying creature was gone. He no longer wondered what the monster was, nor did he fear for himself. It was what his ancestors had called the battle calm. Once believed to have been a product of years of shield to sword fighting among warriors of old, many men knew that the battle calm was timeless, and came over any man who had been numbed to battle…and even more so for those who lived for the conflict between man and man…or even man and beast.
Daniel knew that he must protect Jenny and Steven. He had made a promise to Steven’s listless form that he would watch over Jenny, and he would keep that promise. With a roar of his own, Daniel stood up and jammed the rifle muzzle past Jack’s still flailing body, stopping just under the creature’s arm (that the Husky seemed intent on tearing off) and fired twice, knowing these shots might be his last opportunity. The rifle held a maximum capacity of five rounds with one that had been locked into the chamber already. He doubted he would have time to dig for another magazine and reload…unless these last shots did some real damage.
The roar that came from the creature as it fought against Jack was of bewilderment and pain, but when the blasts of the last two gunshots dissipated in the cabin, the roar had changed into a howl of fear. The creature summed up enough strength to pull Jack all the way up to the broken window as he tried to retreat. The window was not large enough for Jack’s body, so the dog slammed head first into the door and finally let go of the arm. He yelped loudly in pain as his soft nose slammed into metal. Jack then saw the foot-wide opening caused by the smashed and disfigured door, and he tried to get outside to attack the creature once more. Daniel turned to make sure Jenny was okay, realizing that she had been silent for the last several moments.
She was unconscious, slumped over on her right side against the door behind Daniel. He wanted to come to her aid but he thought that this nightmarish battle was probably not over. As a last resort, he tossed the rifle into the cockpit so it would be out of the way, and then pulled his Bouie knife from its sheath. He had owned the knife since he was a child. It was made to the original specifications of the knife credited to the famous Jim Bouie…not the smaller, weaker version seen in many stores nowadays. Delmar and Thomas had always laughed at the huge knife, saying that he might as well tuck it into his backpack frame for use as a machete, but Daniel was comfortable with the knife at his side. Now, with the knife in hand, he twirled around, waiting for the creature to attack again.
The creature did attack again, but not in the way Daniel had envisioned. Daniel felt the helicopter move and shift violently upward. He found himself falling backward against Jenny and was unable to regain his balance. He tumbled and remembered to point the knif
e down and out of harms way. Jack lost his footing and plummeted into Daniel and Jenny. The helicopter’s nose suddenly shifted straight down, and Daniel’s face slammed against the steel frame of the co-pilot’s seat. He felt a warm gush across his face as his nose impacted with something hard. He saw a flash of bright colors and cursed loudly in shock with pain. He could not believe that this monster possessed the strength to move the aircraft…at least in its wounded state, but he knew that was what was happening. Suddenly, Daniel felt a tug at his stomach and then he was on the ceiling, rolling once more toward the cockpit. Bodies slammed into him. He knew it was Jenny and Steven, who were now tumbling with the changing gravity, just as he was. Could we be falling over the damned cliff? Those were the last thoughts that Daniel had before he blacked out.
Jenny woke up to a searing pain in her forehead. She was tangled up with Daniel. Jack whimpered softly from somewhere in the dark. Did I pass out? She was in almost total blackness now, and realized that the helicopter was no longer sitting upright. She could only guess, but it seemed like the aircraft had somehow settled in a nose-down position. Yes…that was it. It was almost nose-down. Wait…Steven! Where was he? She grunted and pushed and twisted, trying to push the bulk of Daniel’s weight off of her pinned legs. Jack whimpered louder. She could not see her husband. She twisted to look downward…in the direction of the cockpit, but she could not make anything out other than the back of the seats and more of Daniel’s torso.
Still on her back, she pushed and shoved, trying to get herself upright. She rested for a moment and felt a small, plastic case. She stared. As if by some miracle, it was the yellow case containing the aircraft’s flare-gun, and it was right in front of her face, moving up and down with each breath as it lay on her chest. She forced herself to calm down. Almost straight up, where the ceiling should have been, was a misshapen hole in the aircraft. Once, a sliding door had covered that hole. The same sliding door that the monster…oh shit…the thing. Where was it? Had Daniel killed it?
Calm down. She freed herself and climbed skyward over bits of gear and twisted metal from the benches until she could reach the opening. Her foot pressed against something soft and Jack yelped in pain. She tucked the small case under her left arm and groped around, trying to free Jack. Finally, the dog pulled himself on top of what was left of the bench that Steven had laid on. It was twisted, but still elongated, and the Husky balanced himself on the canvas.
Jenny opened the case and snapped open the breach of the short, fat pistol. She pushed in one of the four shells and pointed it skyward. As she pulled the trigger, she looked upward and was stunned by the clear sky and the stars. There was no sign of the storm that had plagued the area earlier.
The helicopter had indeed fallen over the cliff. She knew the thing had done it, and did not even try to make sense of it. She could see that the helicopter rested almost upside down, cockpit facing downward while wedged between some huge rocky outcroppings. She smelled jet fuel in the air. It was thick. She did not take time to make a connection between the firing of the flare gun and the possibility of the fuel igniting. Thankfully, it did not.
As the flare rocketed skyward, she realized she was cold. Freezing cold. She shivered and her hands shook as she reloaded the weapon. This time she aimed it in an arc, hoping to get more distance toward where she thought Delmar and Thomas would be…and in the direction of the hermit-guy’s cabin. She placed the pistol back in its case, and went to work to find and help her husband. Daniel would have to wait.
* * * * *
Thomas stirred in his sleep, his eyes darting left and right behind his eyelids. He opened them and could have sworn that there had just been a light in the middle of all the darkness. As he pulled down the zipper of his mummy-like cold weather sleeping bag, trying to free his upper body, another flare arced through the darkness, far away in the direction of the helicopter.
“Those came from the bird,” said Delmar, struggling from his own sleeping bag and forcing himself to adapt to the rushing cold as it attacked his now exposed torso.
Thomas nodded. “No doubt.” He stood up and stepped free of the sleeping bag only to hit his head on the rock overhang. “Ouch! Crap!” He rubbed his head and bent over to begin quickly rolling up the sleeping bag.
“This changes things,” Delmar said as he struggled to free himself from his own sleeping bag.
“I think we can make it back in two hours if we drop these packs and just take day-packs.”
“We could do it in the same time with full gear if the damned moon was still bright.”
Thomas grimaced. “Two hours…”
He stopped his reply short, as his eye detected another flicker in the night sky.
“Another one,” Delmar said. “That one was wild…far over the Northern horizon and low.”
“Let’s take the gear,” Thomas said as he scrambled. “It’s not just risky for us. They might need it.”
Delmar glanced at Thomas, then nodded. “Alright, we take everything. But be prepared to haul ass.”
“You up for it?”
“Don’t start, Hero.”
“Sorry,” Thomas said, meekly.
Two minutes later the men had their backpacks ready to sling across their shoulders. Without giving a single thought to their failed attempt to reach the cabin, the two men took off in the direction of the helicopter, this time at a pace equivalent to a steady jog. The snow would play hell on their shins and ankles, and strain every muscle in their legs as they ran, but they had an edge. Their former careers had instilled the discipline, strength, and stamina that they would need in order to ensure that their movement did not stretch their abilities or cross over their physical limitations. They would select a pace and stick with it.
They strained to see, and their night vision was such that they could make out the trees and stones easily…helped by the reflective snow-covered ground as it bounced light from every star in the sky.
* * * * *
* * * * *
The Other was wounded. The human had stung him several times. The strange, small predator that was with the humans had hurt him as well, tearing at his arm. The pain shocked him, but not as much as an instinctive feeling of failure and inferiority.
While he had no true understanding of the pain that shook his huge body—he understood that it was a signal that he needed to retreat long enough to heal. He knew from instinct that the healing process would not be long…but he also understood that the Beast would be coming for him. He had heard a low howl moments ago, far in the distance. A brief image, almost a true memory, of the Beast’s black eyes much larger and more powerful form flashed before him. Enraged that he had again been thwarted in his pursuit of these humans, the Other pointed his face skyward and let loose a howl. A cold feeling took over the creature’s heart as he ended the howl, and once again the feeling of fear washed over him. His howl may bring the Beast closer.
The wounded creature limped south, slowed by a gunshot wound to his upper right leg. He clutched at his chest with a badly mangled hand—feeling two more wounds and the blood that bubbled from them. The night was still his, however. He knew he would recover very soon, and then he would be free to pursue other victims…but he would not stay here for fear of the Beast.
There were more humans on the mountain, he knew, and he would find them.
CHAPTER NINE
By the time Alan reached the dock, Travis had already swung open the passenger door and entered the plane. “Wait,” Alan yelled to Craig. “If you get in, I won’t be able to climb over you.”
Craig stopped, one leg already at the baseboard of the aircraft.
Alan shook his head and strode to the plane. This was insane. Never mind that he regretted coming out here in the first place…a damned stupid thing to do, even though he had made his decisions based on friendship and compassion, but this whole man-wolf theory was getting to him. It was too much. Were it not so close to dark, he would change his mind and refuse to fly out
without having searched the entire property, ensuring that no one lay wounded somewhere they had not yet checked.
Alan had heard a low, far-away drone as they had moved quickly toward the docks, but other thoughts had preoccupied his mind. Now, the drone was louder, closer, and he could make out the distinct whump, whump, whump of an old Huey…only a UH1H military style helicopter made that distinctive sound. He hoped it was Steven’s aircraft, which is very similar, but he saw that it was not and realized they were now in a different type of trouble. Sure enough, as he and Craig stood at the dock looking skyward, the red and yellow silhouette of a government helicopter popped in over the trees.
“Blast and damn.” Alan muttered.
Travis motioned for them to get in, and yelled to Alan that they could still take off.
Alan shook his head as the helicopter looped in a tight circle, viewing the area and looking for Steven’s landing zone at the cabin. Though the helicopter was fitted with pontoons, Alan’s plane blocked the only dock on the lake near the cabin.
“If we take off, they’ll just nail us at the airfield, and we’d make things a whole lot worse if it looked like we were running.”
Craig kept silent as they watched the Huey hover about a hundred meters from the cabin. Travis mumbled something about how it would be better to be charged with murder back at Hope airfield than it would be to be stuck out here after dark.
The helicopter slowly descended just behind the cabin and Alan decided it might be best to meet its occupants rather than make them, the constable likely being one of them, come to him. He told Craig and Travis he’d go talk to them and made his way off the dock and up the hill toward the cabin.
By the time he reached the aircraft, four members of the RCP had disembarked and made their way out from under the rotating blades. Alan squinted in defense of the warm rotor blast and saw that the last man off the helicopter was Constable O’Reilly. Alan turned to look toward the horizon. There was perhaps twenty minutes of decent light, after that the night would come on quickly.
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