by D M Shepard
A chorus of squeals and screeches echoed through the clearing. Excited by the sight of fresh blood, the Tailed-Men lunged forward. The dog rushed to his master’s side, growling. Rose threw up an arm to defend herself from the dog’s attack. Before it could reach her, another blur of fur blew by her, knocking Aaron’s mutt to the side.
When she looked up, Loki stood between her and Aaron’s dog, snarling, teeth bared. On her other side, Thor raised his hackles at the creatures as he growled. Cowering, Aaron’s dog backed away, tail between its legs. With a whine, it dashed out of the clearing.
“Rose! Stay down!” Ulrik shouted. Rose complied, heart pounding with hope. She rolled off Aaron’s still twitching, gurgling body. Crouching, she scrambled through the slush and mud, groping for the Glock. Yanking the gag out of her mouth, she spit on Aaron.
The lead Tailed-Man jumped on top of the pile of wood, bone necklace rattling as he hissed at her. She froze as she knelt in the muck, Aaron’s Glock just out of reach. The sound of rapid gunfire split the night as three of the Tailed-Men dropped to the melting snow around the bonfire.
The lead Tailed-Man, screeched again from his perch on top of the wood pile, his piercing gaze still focused on Rose. His tail snaked out and looped around her ankles. She let out a cry of surprise as she fumbled for purchase in the thawing ice with chilled, raw fingers. Her scream carried on the bitter air as it dragged her away from the protection of the dogs. Loki grabbed the hood of her parka in his teeth, tearing the fabric, trying to stop her.
“No!” Ulrik shouted. He sprinted into the clearing, shooting two more creatures, but three more blocked his path. “I’m coming Rose, hold on.”
She turned her head to see the black Glock lying in the reddish-brown muck. Stretching her arm further, the torrent of throbbing agony in her side stole her breath. She groped through the sludge for the weapon, ice and rocks lacerating her raw hands. Taking a deep inhalation of the glacial night air as she reached, her fingers curled around the grip. Bracing herself for the recoil, she took aim. She squeezed the trigger.
The Tailed-Man bellowed and howled as the lead penetrated its furred chest, but didn’t relinquish its grip on her legs. Instead, it whipped her around, knocking the Glock from her hand. Loki jumped up, snapping at its throat. The monster swiped with its claws, tossing the dog away into the trees with a yelp. Thor harried its hindquarters, attempting to hamstring it. It slapped Thor, sending him flying, as it continued to pull Rose through the mire. Hoonah and Juneau joined the fray, biting at its legs and tail, dodging back and forth to avoid the sharp claws.
As it lugged her past the woodpile, she rolled. She made a desperate grab for the axe. Grasping the wooden handle with her numb, lacerated fingers, she swung with all her strength. The pain in her injured ribs took her breath, but she had enough momentum to carry the blow through.
The muted thunk echoed, as the axe chopped the creature’s tail and sunk into the half-thawed ground. A roar of anger split the night. Obsidian claws clattering, it snapped razor-sharp teeth as it snarled and turned on Rose. Free of its grasp, she kicked and scrambled against the slick melting ice and snow. She jerked the axe free from the muck and dragged it with her.
Loki moved faster. Intent on Rose, the Tailed-Man didn’t see the malamute coming this time. Loki landed square on its bloody, hairy chest, latching onto its throat. The momentum carried through, knocking it to the ground. Thor rejoined his brother, helping him eviscerate the monster. Hoonah and Juneau stood guard, watching for further danger. Ulrik reached Rose’s side, gripping her arm and lifting her to her feet. Edna stood at the edge of the clearing. The sound of her rifle echoed in the night as she picked off creature after creature as they retreated toward the cave.
The herd of women waited at the base of the hill, shoulders sagging, arms hanging at their sides like limp noodles. Their milky eyes stared blankly at the fire and the chaotic scene. Their jaws wagged, exposing mouths with no teeth, emitting low moans but no words. The thick, putrefying smell permeated the clearing as they continued to watch, visages lifeless. Loki and Thor finished subduing the lead creature. It lay in a mangled heap by the fire. They padded back to Ulrik and Rose, jaws and ruffs slick with black blood.
Ulrik froze as he spied his sister. “Karen?” her name tore out of his mouth in a ragged whisper.
“I don’t think that’s your sister anymore, honey,” Edna said, stomping through the drifts toward him. A high-pitched keen filled the night from the hill above, and the herd of women turned in unison. The snow crunched beneath their bare feet as they made a slow shamble through the deep, lustrous drifts back toward the cave.
“No!” Ulrik shouted, shaking, as he reloaded his .338.
“I don’t think you can save her,” Edna stated as she stepped over a dead Tailed-Man, puffing on the cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth. The bonfire now burned much lower, as fine white powder wafted off the trees in the light wind, creating a micro blizzard.
“But we can’t let them go back to that.” Rose said. She reached down and retrieved the gun from the ground. Taking careful aim, she shot one in the head. Its skull cracked open, oozing pitch-like blood and pus. The woman dropped to the silvery glistening snowbank. A dark trail formed behind her as she persisted in attempting to crawl up the hill.
“Oh my God,” Rose shook her head, whole frame trembling. She shot another, then another, until the Glock was empty. She plundered Aaron’s pockets, finding another clip. Her arms and side throbbed as she emptied that as well. They continued to live, writhing and crawling on the ground, leaving a putrid path as they tried to answer the call of their masters. Edna handed her another gun. Ulrik opened fire. Though a much more powerful rifle, his weapon had the same effect. Before long the entire herd of slave women lay wriggling in the snow at the base of the hill while the creatures screeched and howled above.
“They can’t die.” Rose choked out. “Like they’re zombies or something.” Her body quaked as she observed their strange, helpless struggle.
“Stay here,” Ulrik insisted. He clutched the axe handle and trudged forward, dogs at his side. He gripped one woman by the ankle and dragged her back toward the fire. His gloved fingers sank into her gray putrid flesh, goop oozing as he pulled. Thor and Loki grabbed another and towed her with their mouths toward the clearing. The Tailed-Men screeched and screamed. One leapt down, but Rose and Edna shot their weapons simultaneously. It tumbled down the hill in a heap of claws, hair and snow.
Once on solid ground, Ulrik stood over the zombie-woman. She wriggled and clawed at the slush and the mire with gray nubs of fingers, trying to move toward the cave.
He raised the axe, closing his eyes against the splatter as he severed her head from her lumpy body. The body twitched, spurting black blood and pus, but the woman-like thing never made a sound beyond a muted, spine-chilling moan. He did the same to one after another, the dogs dragging the lifeless shells to him for his disposal. The Tailed-Men on the hill kept up their incessant wailing and screeching as Ulrik annihilated their harem of slaves. When a Tailed-Man would attempt to come down, Rose or Edna would pick it off. Hoonah and Juneau guarded the edge of the clearing, growling into the darkness.
Ulrik stood above the wriggling, helpless creature he once thought of as his sister. He wiped his eyes and swallowed hard. His hands shook as he raised the axe one final time.
“I’m sorry Karen, I love you,” he whispered. With a swift motion, he severed her neck with a single strike of the axe. He crouched down and covered his eyes for a moment, breathing hard. He watched the blood and pus ooze from the gray tissue, and mix with the gory, fetid mess that already stained the ground. He kept his foot on the rotting mushy flesh of her back, while the thing below him squirmed and shuddered one last time. He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for, perhaps a sign that she would return to at least being human. Finally, he tangled his fingers in her matted dirty hair and placed her head in the fire.
“I’m taking no chances
. Edna, bring that extra fuel we brought in the sleds. Rose, throw more wood on,” he ordered. He tossed one head after another onto the coals. Before long the flames roared once more. A rumbling, cracking sound drew their attention up the hill as the ground beneath their feet shook. The remaining Tailed-Men retreated rapidly into their cave as the hole began to close. The gap shut like a mouth swallowing its meal. The only sounds to be heard were the crackling of the fire and the rustling of the snow as it fell from the trees in clumps.
They walked over to where Dick’s mutilated, charred body still hung from the tree. Ulrik swung the axe, chopping him down. Rose came to his side, and he immediately wrapped his free arm around her, clutching her close.
“How—how are we going to explain this to the—the troopers?” Rose asked, teeth chattering not only with cold, but with shock as the adrenaline began to wear off.
“We don’t.” Edna choked, wiping a tear from her eyes as she slung her .306 over her shoulder. “At least, not officially. I’ll talk to my nephew Mike. He’s a trooper. But for now, we burn his body. Even with this map, I have a feeling this is a place you can’t find unless it wants to be found,” she said. She picked up his battered head and closed his eyes. She held it close to her chest for a moment and whispered a few words. Turning to the bonfire, she dropped his head onto the pyre.
Rose leaned her head against Ulrik’s shoulder. Ulrik wrapped his arm around her tighter, mind still reeling over what could have befallen her. “Rose,” he muttered against her hair. “You’re wet and muddy. You need a dry jacket and some gloves.”
Her breath came out in a low sob, her knees buckling. Ulrik pulled her closer to the fire. She shook harder, body feeling the brunt of the bitter air. She flexed her raw, bloodied fingers as she plunked down on the smooth map-stone.
“Sit here for a moment to warm up. Put wood on—keep the fire hot,” he said, giving her one more hug before he walked back to the sled. Thor followed close on his heels, while Loki leaned against her, lending his warmth.
Ulrik returned quickly, with a parka, blanket and gloves for Rose. Ulrik and Edna soaked a blanket in diesel and wrapped Dick’s mutilated body in it. He and the older woman constructed a make-shift gurney and heaved him onto the bonfire. They did the best they could, making sure Dick’s remains wouldn’t be left to the scavengers. All night long the flames roared, consuming all the available deadfall and wood around the clearing. The stench of diesel, kerosene and flesh hung thick in the air, stinging their eyes as they burned Dick’s body and the heads of the slave women. Shades of violet, magenta and blood-red painted the sky above the hill before they were done.
Aaron on the other hand, Ulrik made sure to give him a swift kick as he walked by. He couldn’t help but smile as each dog in turn hiked their leg on the prick’s lifeless body. He surveyed the empty clearing one last time. The headless bodies of the dead slave women lay in a heap at the base of the hill. He wished there was some way to identify who they were, let their families know what happened to them. But who would believe them? He dumped one last load of snow on the firepit, checking to ensure it was completely extinguished. The snowy slope above was bathed in the coral and gold of morning. He searched for signs of the cave, but it was as if it never existed.
“They’re not gone,” Rose said, leaning against him.
“No, they’re not,” he agreed. He lifted her off the ground, cradling her to his body for a moment before loading her into the sled. “I’m just glad that we were able to get to you in time.”
Rose held up the amulet they had taken from Aaron. The hand with its unnerving claws gleamed, jade eyes staring blankly at the light of the rising sun as she leaned back in the basket of the sled.
“All of this for gold?” Rose said, handing the strange, golden figurine to Ulrik. He took it with a frown before placing it in the pocket of his parka. He tucked the sturdy woven blanket around her and kissed her forehead. “I wonder how many women’s lives Aaron traded for gold? And that thing—does it control them? Why is it so special? And How did Aaron get it? And that map—it shows the source rock locations, but it also details where the Tailed-Men come out of the ground. Like this place. It looks like everything is connected through the lava tubes and caves that run through Mt. Sanford and Wrangell. It stretches through the entire Wrangell Mountain Range. It even goes all the way over to the Nabesna side, near Copper Lake. The picture Edna took shows all the details.”
“We’ll talk about this more later Rose, back at the lodge,” Ulrik said, checking the harnesses. “But I know what you’re thinking. And yes—we’re going to take out more of these monsters. But we’re going to rest first,” he said, touching her face and smiling down at her. Then he hopped on the footboards. The four dogs trotted after the Snowcat through the winter sunrise to the lodge.
EPILOGUE: COPPER TERROR
…The next evening 70 miles away at Copper Lake
“I can’t believe I lost both sets of contacts!” David whined, sending snow flying as he stomped across the threshold.
“I told you to keep your goggles on when we rode across the lake,” Taylor scolded, casting a glance back to her younger cousin that telegraphed her thoughts. Why’d you invite this Cheechako—boy on our girl’s trip?
Bailey’s amber-brown eyes pleaded with her to be patient as she followed, dragging a bulky wooden toboggan. Her twin sister Skylar suppressed a grin as she tugged off her ski mask. She smoothed her dark hair, highlights catching the alpine glow of the setting sun through the frosted windows. Taylor huffed and slung her pack down on the low bench against the lodge wall.
Their Swedish friend Pia dropped the ice auger on the porch. She lingered in the fading light, admiring the Wrangell Mountains with a broad smile while the frigid breeze rifled the light brown curls that escaped her knit cap.
“Let’s get wood to start a fire,” Skylar said, tugging Taylor back out the door. Pia left her pack just inside the door and followed. Their laughter and voices faded as they crunched through the snow to the woodshed on the south side of the lodge.
David’s face turned red as his hair, as he fumbled through his own pack, then set it on the cold wooden floor.
“What’s wrong?” Bailey asked, as he frowned.
“Nothing,” he replied, picking up his bag and stomping toward a back room.
She rubbed her face as she groaned. She did her best to mask her less than congenial thoughts toward her new boyfriend. This is turning into a nightmare. He said he wanted to do something different—something, “Alaskan.” Why did I invite him to come ice fishing with us out here? I should have started with something simpler. He’s never done anything like this before.
She followed, putting a hand on his arm as he rifled through the bag again, his forehead knotted.
“What are you looking for?” she asked, keeping her voice gentle.
He slammed his bag down. “My glasses. I left them in the glove compartment of the truck back at the other lodge.”
A pattering of footsteps in the loft above made them both jump.
“Something’s up there,” she whispered. Heart hammering, she snatched the .306 from the sled.
Taylor, Skylar, and Pia pounded back into the lodge and slammed the door.
“Something’s out there—moving in the trees!” Skylar exclaimed; eyes wide as she tried to catch her breath.
About the Author
Daniella Shepard is a Professional Electrical Engineer and ex-Navy Nuclear Electrician’s Mate who pulled up anchor at eighteen in California and set out to see the world. Through many twists and turns, she slowly made her way north to Alaska, where she immediately fell in love with the Last Frontier. She enjoys playing with live electricity, exploring Alaska, or snuggling with her editor (cat) Felix. You can find her and her husband Ray in Anchorage, or hanging out most summers at their off-grid cabin near the small community of Chicken, AK. If you want to read more about her latest Alaskan adventure, or her current work-in-progress about women in STE
M saving the day, check out her website and sign up for her newsletter.
Connect with the Author
website: dmshepard.com
Twitter: @dmshepard13
Instagram: @dmshepard13
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The legends of mysterious creatures that go bump in the night have always fascinated me. Growing up in the Mojave Desert near 29 Palms and Joshua Tree, stories of “The Yucca Man,” and “Skin Walkers,” were what kept us entertained on hot summer nights. My cousins, brother and myself would huddle together with a flashlight under the starry skies, and concoct the most gruesome tales a kid could come up with, often based on these legends. The more blood, guts and gore, the better (even if the plot made absolutely no sense).
As I grew older, I became even more fascinated with the various iterations of this theme. Whether it is the Yeti, Bigfoot, Creptids, Moth Man, The Jersey Devil, and other names, almost every culture has some sort of creature that stalks the night, that can’t be explained—except by myth, legend, or magic. Even modern science hasn’t been able to shake these tales.
When I moved to Alaska 13 years ago, I became fascinated with the local Alaska Native lore. It both echoed and differed from the tales I grew up with in the southwest. I have written multiple blog posts about my inspiration for The Dark Land.
I would like to give thanks to the website on Athabascan legends and language that was a great initial stepping stone in my research:
http://www.native-languages.org”ahtna-legends.htm
When I first started this story, it was intended to be just a simple horror short. But when a beta reader (not Alaskan) made this comment:
“You should include some Eskimo words!”
I groaned internally and gritted my teeth. This person is really kind, and I value their insightful feedback. But living so far away, they just didn’t comprehend that the First People in the region I am writing about aren’t Eskimos. In order to do justice to the region and the story, I needed to include a lot more.