FULL MOON COUNTRY (FULL MOON SERIES (vol. 2))

by Terry Yates

  “Denny?” Rhonda asked. “Is that you?”

  “Yes’m,” answered the boy.

  The teen pushed his hair back over his head. Rhonda could see that the boy’s black lips and eyeliner had become smudged and faded. She wasn’t sure if the dark circles under his eyes were caused by smudged makeup or lack of sleep. Either way, he looked like he’d had the crap spooked out of him.

  “Is it bad?” she asked.

  “Pretty bad.”

  “Well, I better check anyway.”

  Rhonda slid her hand into over the shredded flesh and into the large, gaping wound on her side. She winced as she felt the wound, which was the size of a fist…a large fist. She felt a muscle and quickly pulled her hand back again.

  “I was getting ready to put this bandage on it when you woke up,” Denny told her, raising his hand to reveal a large, gauze bandage dangling from it.

  “What happ…”

  Before she could finish her question, the memories from the night before began flooding back in…the blood on the walls, Tobin’s mangled torso, Harlan Gaskin’s scream. The last thing she could distinctly remember was being blindsided by someone or something.

  Rhonda Weaver put her arms over her eyes, rolled onto her back, and began to sob loudly. The thought of her husband, children, and grandchild all dead, all brutally and savagely killed by an animal, was too much to hold in. She lay there crying not caring who saw or heard her.

  “Mrs. Weaver? Mrs. Weaver!”

  Rhonda took her arm away from her eyes and tried to look up at Denny, but her tears had completely blurred her vision.

  “Mrs. Weaver, I need to put this bandage on you before you…it…gets infected. There are flies and gnats everywhere. Please, Mrs. Weaver!”

  Rhonda wiped her eyes and snorted. The boy looked almost frantic.

  She thought for a moment, and then slowly nodded her head. The teen poured what water that was left in a bottle of Ozarka water onto the wound. Rhonda moaned loudly as the cold water landed on the gash. She didn’t moan so much because of the pain, but because of the coolness of the water. She had expected it to be warm, so she was shocked to discover that it wasn’t.

  She looked away as Denny placed a large, gauze bandage over the wound. The adhesive corners barely covered the wound, but it was all that the kid could find.

  Denny had been with Josh McClewn and Sarah Tooley in the old Thompson house, two lots down from his own home. It had been vacant for years, and the three of them and their friend, Rocky Compton, four of the open Goths in Harmonville, gathered most nights of the week to dress in their black clothes, let out their stringy black hair, spray paint the few walls left in the empty rooms, then sit around on the floor and talk about how they were going to leave Harmonville the first chance that they got, but like many small town teens, they chicken out and end up staying and becoming their parents.

  Denny Lusk was different though. He dropped out of school in February and was waiting for his seventeenth birthday to roll around and then he’d be off to LA, Portland, or Seattle, and join others like himself that saw nothing but gloom and doom in every day life. His family didn’t understand him. No one understood him. He would let Harmonville kiss his ass as it was leaving it.

  The four had been sitting cross-legged on the floor in the dark, smoking cigarettes, when they heard the first one. Denny had just flicked his bic, and was lowering his mouth to the flame to light his cigarette, when Josh McClewn’s hand knocked the lighter from his hand. He’d hit him on his wrist and he yelped as the room went temporarily dark.

  “What the shit?!” Denny screeched, rubbing his wrist.

  “Shh!” Josh rasped. “Did ya’ll hear that?”

  “Hear what?” Rocky asked quizzically.

  Josh got up and crawled to the paneless window. He was still stoned from the joint that Rocky procured for the group. It seemed that guys named Rocky could always find weed, never the best, mind you, but Harmonville wasn’t exactly a hub for pot traffic. Guys like Rocky Compton would disappear for a couple of hours, and then return with something that was at least close to weed. It smelled and tasted more like horseshit than the actual thing, but it gave them all a buzz. Along with the joint, they had scored some wine from Denny’s dad’s liquor cabinet. He had so much of it, he didn’t miss the occasional missing bottle.

  Josh fell sideways, the effects of the weed and wine hitting him all at once.

  “I heard something!”

  “Shut up! You’re just stoned!” Sarah Tooley laughed. Sarah was the local high school fag hag/goth girl…about five-ten, heavy, dresses in black and was usually the girl who would deflower eight and ninth grade boys, and pretended not to mind if everyone knew it.

  “No, I’m not! I…”

  Before Josh could finish, they heard a sound. It sounded like something scraping along the blacktop road. He peered toward the road. The moon was bright, orange, and low. It was so bright, his eyes had to adjust to the darkness. As he peered into the darkness, he was startled by the neighborhood dogs, who had all started to bark at once.

  “What do you see?” Denny asked.

  “Nothin’. I…wait a minute!”

  At that moment, Josh saw a black form moving down the blacktop. By the way it lumbered slowly forward, shoulders slumped, and arms swinging close to the ground, Josh assumed it was Tobin Weaver who always seemed to walk that way when he had a buzz on, but this wasn’t Tobin Weaver. Whoever…or whatever this was…had to be seven or eight feet tall.

  “Holy shit! I think it’s Bigfoot!”

  Denny, Rocky, and Sarah suppressed their giggles as long as they could before they all snorted, guffawed, and shot wine from their noses.

  “Damn, Rocky,” Denny started, “where did you get this shit?”

  Denny had watched Josh turn from the window. His braces sparkled in the moonlight as he started to speak, but he never got the chance. Before he could utter a word, something long and dark came through the open window, wrapped itself around Josh’s face, then pulled him through the window with such speed that the boy made no more than a small grunt before he disappeared out the window.

  The three sat mouths agape, not sure if Josh actually disappeared before them, or were they smoking the best weed that ever came tippy-toeing down Everton Blacktop Road. They needn’t have waited long, for no sooner had Josh disappeared through the window, than they heard a thud, followed by a grunt followed by a loud snarl, then the sound of something gigantic ripping Josh to shreds.

  The three screamed and began to run to the other side of the small, dark house, Rocky leading the way. They were too busy with their own screaming to notice that every dog in the neighborhood was either snarling, barking, whining, or growling.

  Rocky lead the way as they ran screaming toward the back of the house. Denny ran between Rocky and Sarah. When they reached the back of the house, they sprinted down the short hallway where another large empty window sat. Denny began to slow up so that he could make a turn into another room. Rocky wasn’t turning though. He was headed straight for the window which lead to the back of the house which lead to the woods behind it, and like an Olympic triple-jumper he took three quick steps and jumped out the window and landed in mid stride. Denny stopped when he reached the window. He was neither as long-legged or as athletic as Rocky.

  “What are you doing!” Sarah screamed.

  Denny had to put his foot on the ledge to jump. It was at least a five-foot drop, and he didn’t want to be spraining his ankles with whatever that thing was on the loose. Denny put his second foot on the windowsill, and was about to jump, when he looked up to see Rocky sprinting for the woods. Suddenly, the creature jumped out in front of Rocky. It didn’t so much jump, as step in front of him. There didn’t seem to be any hurry with the monster. The creature stood on its back legs. It was massive and dark, with what looked to be like long ears. It was the eyes though, that scared Denny Lusk. They were sun yellow and glowed brightly. Denny was too scared to be sure,
but it looked as though they partially lit up the darkness.

  Rocky only had a moment to look up and see the beast. He made a quick pivot left, but not fast enough. The animal swung its arm/foreleg connecting with Rocky’s right shoulder at full gallop, knocking him sideways and to the ground. The teenager yelped, then screamed as the creature fell on him.

  Denny stood frozen as the thing began to rip Rocky to ribbons. Rocky only screamed for a few seconds before they turned to gurgles, as the thing was tearing out his throat. Denny’s trance was broken by Sarah screaming behind him. The two turned from the window and began to run toward the front of the house, both screaming for all they were worth. As they neared the end of the small hallway, they heard, or actually felt, something heavy stepping onto the old wooden porch. They rounded the corner of the hall just in time to see the front door being smashed inward, slivers of wood spraying the whole foyer and living room. Several hit Denny but he didn’t know it or feel it, nor did he hang around to get a good look at it, knowing only that the dark shape was huge. As he turned to run, the beast let out a roar that caused Sarah to scream right down into his face.

  “Move!” he screamed at the much larger girl.

  Denny had no time for Freeze Queens at that moment. He squeezed his slight frame past her, grabbing her arm.

  “Come on!” he yelled, trying to drag her back down the hallway.

  Sarah screamed in his ear as they heard the large beast rounding the corner after them. They were headed straight for the back windowsill again. This time, there would be no hesitation for Denny. He was going to jump out the window just like Rocky had done. He was going to jump and ankles be damned.

  As they neared the window, the beast let out a roar, which seemed to have the adverse affect on its prey, for suddenly the two began moving even faster. But the roar wasn’t meant to terrify, it was meant for something else, for no sooner had they begun to reached the window, than the windowsill exploded inward. In front of them stood the beast, or rather…a second beast. There had been two all along, one in the front of the house and one in the back.

  The creature’s whole silhouette took up the hallway. It’s yellow eyes burned as it too let out a roar. The only place left to go was through the kitchen door, which was off to his right. At that moment, his brain didn’t fathom why they had always kept the kitchen door closed. He just threw the door open and ran blindly into the dark room. It was then that he remembered why they kept the kitchen closed off. There had been two missing floorboard planks where rot had set in and Denny’s left foot found them. His body fell sideways as the room fell out from under him. Pain shot through his leg and his groin as he hit hard against the floor. His left leg went through the floorboard, but not so the rest of his body. His elbow slammed hard against the floor. His groin was the object that kept him from going completely through the floor. He could feel his leg bleeding through his jeans, but he didn’t notice. He was too busy looking up at the screaming Sarah who was reaching down for him. He wasn’t sure why she was doing this. There was no place to run anymore.

  As Denny reached up for her hand, Sarah was suddenly snatched backwards like a rag doll. She screamed as she was dragged into the hallway. Denny tried to free his leg from the hole, but before he could, the wood around the hole gave in, sending Denny crashing through the floor. It was a two-and-a-half foot drop to the ground, and Denny hit it hard, landing on his side, smacking his elbow again. He was now lying under the house on his side. Sarah was still screaming. Denny looked up through the hallway floorboards just in time to see three shadows through the cracks. He couldn’t see the forms, just shadows as they moved in front of what light there was. Sarah suddenly stopped screaming. He couldn’t see exactly what was going on, but when he heard the beasts grunting, and the sound of tearing flesh, Denny knew that she was dead. He was assured when he heard both shadows let out a grunt, and pull away in opposite directions. Denny curled up on his side and closed his eyes. He could hear Sarah’s blood falling between the cracks throughout the entire hallway.

  Denny lay there in the fetal position, facing the back of the house, which like most of the old, wooden structures, was up on cinder blocks. He knew that he wasn’t that well hidden, so he closed his eyes as if that might help. In the darkness, he could hear the monsters moving about as well as the neighborhood dogs barking more fiercely and ferociously.

  He lay under the house for hours never moving from his side nor never even opening his eyes. His elbow and his shoulder hurt, but they were nothing compared to the screams of pain that he heard throughout those hours. He’d heard Mr. Hagen come out of his house and yell to someone, probably Mr. Weaver up the road. It wasn’t long before he heard growls, howls, and both men screaming, followed by the sounds of women and children screaming, his guess being that it was the Hagen and Weaver families being given the same treatment as his three friends. Every once in awhile, he would hear a gunshot or two, but they never lasted very long before they were silenced. He heard the entire Weaver family, or so he thought, being killed. He knew the Weaver kids, who were all older than he. Keith and Tobin he knew because Harmonville was so small that all the weed smokers knew and hung out with each other. Ellen Weaver was three years older than Denny. He and Josh McClewn had lost their virginity to her the year before when they had stopped and helped her change her tire. She was drunk and horny and ready for anything.

  Several cars and trucks had driven up sporadically, all full of rednecks, who just needed a reason to pull the rifle off of the gun rack. Denny, his back to everything, figured that someone on the blacktop had actually had a chance to get to their cell phone and call someone, or that the howls and screams, had carried across the county. Either way, it seemed that everyone who showed up, got a shot or two off just like everyone else, then screamed, grunted, gurgled, and died. As much as Denny thought he hated his own family, he was relieved that they were on vacation in California. Whatever these things were, they had an appetite for destruction.

  Even with his back to the road, Denny could see the strobe of the red and blue police car lights. Normally, the thought of the police showing up would’ve been a great comfort, but so far no one that had showed up was still alive. He heard a police radio. Of course, it was garbled. Denny had heard that sound dozens of times over the years. Usually, he heard it from behind some bushes, or from behind some car, because he was usually hiding from Mary Sue Carter, Harlan Gaskin, or Earl J. Avery, after some mischief that he and his friends had gotten into. Twice, last year, he had been caught, both times, by Harlan Gaskin, who was one of those small town cops who thought they were important, unlike Sheriff Carter or Deputy Avery, or Sheriff Mac Wilson, who was the sheriff until year before last when he died of a heart attack while busting a meth lab. Yeah, they said the old fucker was dead before he hit the floor. Wilson had been one of those big old men that, looking back now, was mostly trying to scare Denny and his friends when he grabbed them each by the nape of the neck, and yanked them all over the Harmonville Police Station. Each time, he had let them go, not even bothering to call their parents, because there was no real need. Anything that happened in Shitsville, Ok, automatically got around town. The parents found out anyway. At that moment, Denny sure wished that it was Wilson instead of Harlan. Harlan liked writing tickets, busting parkers, and generally harassing everyone so they would think that he was a real badass. Sheriff Wilson, on the other hand, was one.

  Denny heard the car door open, and then close seconds later.

  “Hello!” a voice yelled out into the darkness. It was Harlan.

  That was the only actual word he heard Harlan say that night, because whatever they were, they were on him in a minute. He got out a scream and a couple of shots before they did to Harlan Gaskin, what they had been doing to everyone on Everton Road.

  The last victims of the massacre were the Berry Family. They’d been at a recital and were coming home and had pulled up behind Harlan’s patrol car. It sounded like Mr. Berry, like Harlan
before him, got out of the car to see what was going on, and got jumped by the creatures. He heard the sounds of screaming, glass breaking, metal bending, more screams, and then nothing. He heard Mrs. Berry and Artis being dragged from the vehicle. He clenched his eyes shut and tried to cover his ears, as fourteen-year-old Nicole was killed. Her screaming had been the worst of all.

  Denny did not move as the long hours passed. The screaming had stopped. Come to think of it, there were hardly any sounds at all. Denny had almost come to think that maybe the animals had gone…that was until he heard something crawling under the house behind him. He knew it wasn’t one of the creatures. It wasn’t big enough, plus he figured that if those big bastards wanted him, they would simply pick up the house.

  At first, Denny thought that it was a possum or an armadillo rooting around behind him, but it couldn’t have been because whatever this was, was sniffing around…like a dog. Great. Someone’s dog had gotten loose and had to pick his hiding spot to forage for food. Stupid mutt. There was probably a whole feast lying around the neighborhood.

  He remained still as the dog zigzagged back and forth finally stopping when it realized that it wasn’t alone. Denny waited for some response from the thing, one way or the other, but it remained perfectly still. Denny, for his part, was giving the dog a run for its money in the lying still department. The two lay still until finally he heard the thing moving toward him. It sounded like it was crawling on its belly, inching forward the way dogs do sometimes when they’re creeping up on something, and in this case, the something was him.