The gun went off, and the creature lurched. Hesketh remembered falling backward with the creature on top of him, the impact into the ground, and the bite of metal into his back. Then everything went black.
He woke up to a one-eyed Chinaman yelling at him in his native tongue, and slapping the hell out of him. Blood had dried around Fong’s empty eye-socket, and the mystery of why he had gone down was solved.
Hesketh held up an arm to block the next slap, and received a smile in return. Fong climbed off of him, and offered a hand to help him up. Hesketh took it, and his back screamed as he lifted, but eased as he stood. The little man had obviously pulled the nasty barbs out of him.
Fong pointed to the body of beast. In the firelight, Hesketh saw that it was already separating back into the bodies of Lassiter, and the wolf. The change was slow, like trying to watch a night flower bloom, but the men stared on in fascination. After what must have been hours, the body of the man lay beside the body of the wolf, and no one would ever know what they had been.
Both men were silent, just staring as the fire burned down to embers and the stars crossed the night sky.
The line on the horizon had only just taken on a pink tint when someone whispered her name to wake her.
Sara opened her eyes to find William standing outside of the cage. He smiled at her, eyes moving toward the gun that she still held in both hands, and whispered.
“It worked.”
She had never been so glad to see anyone in her life, and just nodded as she bit her bottom lip.
He slipped open the door the cage, and crawled inside, reaching for her manacled foot with the key. The manacle dropped to the floor, and he held out his hand.
“It’s time to go.”
The explosion rocked the dawn, blowing the house into a ball of fire and shattered wood. Fong had made sure that none of the four men inside would live to escape it.
Hesketh and Sara had gone to the barn and debated on what to do with the wolves. He felt an obligation to put them down, but she had looked up to him and said that they had been through enough, and should be set free. He insisted that she climb up into the hayloft as he did it, keeping his gun trained on them as he opened the cages. But to a one, they merely sprang from the cage, and ran out of the barn.
She was comforted by the act, and for that, he was happy for her.
“They’ll be here in two days. Our best bet is to put as much distance between them and us as we can.”
The three had packed enough provisions to see them through a couple of days riding, and then it was time to go.
Hesketh looked back at the barn door. He’d hammered a spike into the front of it and hung the heads of Lassiter and the wolf, like some grisly trophy.
“They’ll be coming as soon as they see this, but maybe it will give them pause as to who they’re coming after.”
Fong grinned. Sara wore a face of stone. Hesketh just pulled his horse around and began to ride back the way that they had come.
New Fallen Snow
Miles Boothe
“Have you prayed that he will overcome his weakness? Did you watch him tonight as he walked into the forest? He did not go willingly. He did not go with a purpose. It always seems that there are so few hours of darkness before the dawn arrives.” He shook his head, “I do hope for his sake that when the light finds him, he is covered in blood…”
Drawing out his words, lingering over implications and letting the recipient writhe over unfinished threats had always been a pleasure, though the thin-faced man might enjoy this endeavor more if the boy would do something other than stare through the snow toward the eastern horizon. He ran his fingers through lank, oily hair as a dark thought crept into his next words.
“Some men are haunted, you know, and they have a damaged soul.” He looked down at the boy, “Your father has a soul like that; a dark and damaged soul, and the spirits prize that—they prize a man like him. Before you were here, your father used to please those spirits greatly.”
The boy stared out into the forest, pretending that he could see the first light of dawn to creep between the trees. As soon as it was light enough to see, he could go to his father.
“But these days, he seems to please them less and less…”
The man cultivated a wan expression and stared toward the horizon as well, but he watched from the corner of his eye for a reaction.
The boy never broke his gaze, never spoke a word, but there was a movement under his coat, and the man could only imagine that the child’s hand had found the bone hilt of the blade that his father had given him. A crooked smile appeared at the far corner of the man’s mouth.
The boy hated the man. He hated the nights when he climbed into their wagon to wait with him for the dawn, poisoned words slipping between yellowed teeth. He hated that he was forced to listen to the man’s lies, and he was well aware that the man hated him and his father, both. He held the knife under his coat tightly in is hand, as always, even though it was futile. There was nothing else he could do.
His father had made it very clear that he must always respect the Keeper.
Dawn was still hours away.
He could feel the man watching him, even though he pretended to look into the forest. He held on to his knife, tried to ignore the man, and hoped more than anything his father would not be covered in blood.
When it happened, they were not ready. Despite the preparation, doubt hung in the air like a loose thread, circled by fear, about to be pulled.
The group needed more time.
They wouldn’t get it.
Akiva skidded around the corner in a cloud of dust, barely able to keep his feet…William hissed and lurched forward onto a knee, rifle to his shoulder.
The beast careened into the shorn wall of the mine, one arm braced to absorb the impact, the other outstretched as it lunged for the man that fled before it.
“Now!”
“Hold on!”
William jerked his head toward the voice in shock, immediately regretting taking his eyes off of the beast.
Akiva had sprawled into the dirt, made it up onto all fours, and was scrambling…the others hesitated, waiting for the young man to make it past the safety of the wooden beams.
“Don’t wait!” William swung back, rifle up, pointing to where the beast had just been and fired. Rock splintered as the shot struck behind the creature, missing it. Nevertheless, the report caused the creature to jump and stare at William, giving him time to line up the next shot…and just as he fired, the dust hit his eyes.
The beast stumbled and screamed as the bullet took it in a knee.
William rubbed his eye furiously as he bellowed, “DO IT NOW!”
The explosion rocked the confined space, causing all to glance up to the mine ceiling before smoke blocked any view at all.
William kept the rifle up and his eyes closed, straining to hear any sounds above the ringing in his ears. But there was no sound. Nothing moved.
“William…”
The whisper was loud enough keep him from hearing the beast.
“William,” the whisper paused, “William, I’m hurt…”
He didn’t answer—he couldn’t, and the others should know better than to talk and make themselves targets. His pulse thumped as he waited for the inevitable.
“William! I’m hurt bad…”
The smoke was beginning to clear. William kept his eyes and rifle trained on the spot where he had last seen the beast.
“William…”
“Say it again and I’ll put the next bullet in you.”
The man went silent.
The smoke cleared slowly, revealing the outline of the creature’s back. It was down. Wary, nerves frayed, William waited until he could see its head through the gloom and lined up a proper shot. He was just about to pull the trigger when its rib cage heaved with a breath.
“Get back! It’s not dead!”
Movement rustled in the tunnels as the men retreated.
/>
He could have shot it. He should have shot it. But William hesitated, watching the thing’s rib cage rise and fall with another shallow breath. Fur had been singed and blood glistened from the burnt area, but he couldn’t see any killing wound. He stepped closer, straining his eyes in the weak lantern light. The beast’s eyes were closed.
It had been knocked unconscious.
An idea, borne of madness, flew into his mind.
“Chains—bring me chains…”
The men scrambled, digging through canvas, picks and shovels until the clink of chain sounded.
Akiva was the first to make it back to him, holding a length.
William nodded and motioned with his rifle, “bind its legs.”
Akiva’s mouth dropped slightly as he stared.
“Bind its legs, boy, and be quick about it!”
To his credit, Akiva did not hesitate further, nor did he balk at touching the beast, but instead grabbed a leg above the clawed foot and whipped the chain around several times before grabbing the other. When they were both bound, he added a lock-bolt and whispered hoarsely, “Legs are bound!”
William looked to the others and pointed the rifle at thing’s arms.
Chain rustled, and within moments, the beast was bound tight. The other men stepped back as William moved in with the lantern to inspect. He prodded at the thing with his rifle and it breathed, but that was the only movement. He looked to the right and pointed to a massive boulder. “Chain it to that rock. Then bring more lanterns.”
Two more lanterns brightened the gloom and William and the men had a chance to properly look the beast over. He knelt beside it without hesitation, but then, he had killed beasts like it before. The other men kept a distance. They had only seen one before, alive, as it had torn and slaughtered its way through their mining-camp.
But they looked upon this one now and shock mixed with fascination washed over them. It was taller than all of them, arms and legs longer, but thinner and dog-like. It had the long snout of a wolf, and an animal’s teeth, but it walked upright. Its barrel chest rose and fell slowly, mostly shoulder-less where its arms reached forward from the torso, ending in claws extending inches from the malformed hands.
William knew that it was disturbing to look upon, and he was not shocked to see the expressions on the men’s faces. He brought his attention back to the beast. There was little he could say; they would each have to let it sink in and choose whether or not to control the madness that would try to creep over them.
He studied it closely in the light and still found no killing wound. There were only scorch marks along its flank and the wound where he had shot the now ruined knee. He glanced back to Wallace, who had started whispering again he that was hurt.
William scowled at the man. “What did you load the cannon with?”
The man mumbled, causing William to lean closer to him.
“Stop whining and tell me what you shot it with…”
The man looked up through pain-filled eyes, “I didn’t have time to load it…”
William stood to his full height. “You what?”
“We were building the barriers…”
“You dumb son-of-a-bitch—you shot it with powder?”
The man just stared at him. William shook his head, looking down at the squat mini-cannon.
“And it was so damn close that the blast blew it into the wall and knocked it out. You’re lucky you’re not dead—you’re lucky we’re all not dead.” He shook his head incredulously. “Where are you wounded?”
The man held up his right hand, scorch marks covering it, his fingers burnt black.
William snorted, “That’s a lot less than you deserve…”
Bobby Myers yelled out, “Hesketh! It’s moving!”
William spun back around, leveling the rifle on the creature’s head as it began to come to.
“You boys are about to get quite a show.”
There is a force possessed by an animal that can never be matched by man. It is a primal thing, feral, and a creature even half the size of a man will best him, sinew far outmatching the softer tissues found in our own bodies.
This beast was larger than any man in the group, and they watched in awe as it employed force enough to tear up the ground beneath it, around it, and anything else that got in its way. Rage filled growling sent chills through the men, and there was no question of what would happen should the chains not hold.
Tense moments passed as the beast thrashed in every direction, straining against those chains, and several times William thought for sure that it would tear loose.
Sudden bursts of violence exploded, ending in panting and a baleful stare. Then, with inhuman speed, the next outburst would begin…
William nodded in appreciation to Akiva. Despite being a tenderfoot from the city and a strict follower of his faith, the young man had proven himself quite useful.
The creature raged, but as the time passed, even a beast filled with ferocity must tire, and tire it did.
After an hour, the rages had lost most of their steam. After two, it lay upon its side in the dirt, panting, mouth lathered in foam, as it stared at the group of men with hate glittering in its eyes.
The room grew quiet, and the men watched with an adrenaline-fueled focus. Akiva was the first to ask the question that they were all thinking.
“Will it change?”
Hesketh had to consider for a moment.
“I’ve only seen the one change, and that was after we killed it.” He looked at the four others, “After it was dead, it separated into a man and a wolf, just like I told you.”
There was no doubt among them, not after everything else he had told them had been proved true. Still, the shock of seeing the truth come to life was a great deal to comprehend. Each of them had lost family or friends in the attack on their camp, and the after the pain that each had endured, it came as no surprise that they wanted to witness the final, unbelievable act of a beast changing into a man.
“Now that we have one that is still alive…” he shot a scowl at Wallace, who was still cradling his hand, “I suspect that we’ll have to wait until dawn. I’ve never heard of one being seen in the daylight, so I’m wondering if this one might change when the sun rises. If it does, we’ll have a word with the fella. If it doesn’t, I’ll shoot it in the head.”
They nodded. It was several hours still until dawn, and the adrenaline was wearing off.
It’s an odd thing to witness something that defies the laws of nature. There is a feeling of the ground rushing away beneath you, of everything you’ve ever been told being held up as a lie and if you let yourself slip just a little, you can tumble over the edge of the abyss, never to make it back.
Wallace had that look in his eyes now—he was going to tumble.
William looked at the three others, “Take him down to the creek and see to his hand. All of you look like you could use a little cold water splashed on your faces. Go on and get some air. I’ll keep watch.”
None of them argued, and they led Trent Wallace toward the entrance to the mine. The hand would heal, but William could see that his spirit was shattered. He wasn’t long for the hunt.
The Myers brothers—they were more resilient. They had worked a claim at the mining camp for a few months before the attack, and from how they described it, were well known and well regarded. A lot of folks had died in that attack, but they had both survived, and William had found them there a few days later, when he had come looking. Ian was the quiet one. Bobby would talk your ear off. They were both in it for revenge, and that might steer them through the madness.
Akiva was the mystery. More than the others, he proved himself able, quick with his hands, and quicker with his wit. He had travelled from the Northeast with his entire family, he never said exactly how many, and they had stopped at the mining camp to wait out a storm and trade for supplies.
The snow had only been light, though, and they had decided to push on. The beast found th
eir wagons first. Akiva had spoken of losing his mother, father, and a bride; all slaughtered by the beast. He somehow managed to burn the beast with fire, and had been the only one who lived.
He was young, and truth told, not much more than a boy. He’d been reading scripture over his family when the Myers had found him. He babbled on about questioning God’s will and they figured him for mad, but they helped him to lay his family to rest. By the time William arrived, he had snapped out of his stupor and asked to join in the hunt. He wore laced up shoes and dressed like a banker, but William took him in anyway.
They had all now been witness to the madness that had gripped William for months now. He would have chosen differently for all of them, but it wasn’t his world to make the rules.
He kept the rifle propped up over his leg as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a pouch of tobacco. He took his time as rolled the cigarette, staring at the beast and the beast stared back at him.
The match struck and hissed loudly in the confined space, the smell of tobacco welcome, the light from the flame reflecting in the beast’s eyes. William never broke his stare as he inhaled deeply. He knew that the others would not come back until later, most likely waiting to return until dawn.
He settled himself, watching the glow of the cigarette in the creature’s eyes, and imagined what would happen if the thing changed into a still living man. His head was dizzy with the thought.
A faint cast of blue slowly lit through the trees, and the boy pulled his pack more closely to him. He fidgeted as the light grew. The man took in a breath next to him and his voice dropped low as he spoke.
“Pray for blood, boy, or I fear for him. And I fear for you.”
Then it was light enough to make out the trees, and the boy did not ask to leave, but just slipped out of the wagon and was off. He ran through the falling snow, waves of relief washing over him to be away from the Keeper. The boy was silent as he ran, listening and watching the trail, just as his father had taught him, and by the time he reached the spot his father had shown him yesterday afternoon, the sky was a cold gray. More snow would come, he knew, and he hoped that his father would not have to go out again tonight.
Both Barrels of Monster Hunter Legends (Legends of the Monster Hunter Book 1) Page 14