by Sheri Leigh
"Not that drunk.” Shane snorted. “I saw what I saw.”
"Why didn't you go to the police?"
"Only you would suggest that.” Shane laughed. “I can see it now. Me, Shane Curtis, little brother of Buddy Curtis, telling the Sheriff I'd seen my best friend eaten up by a monster in the cemetery at midnight…"
Dusty frowned. "Well, if it was the truth—"
Shane snorted again, smacking his forehead with his palm. "They don't give a damn about truth in this stupid little town. If they did, that thing would be dead by now. The law in Larkspur ignores the truth. Everyone does. They’re rather believe the illusion, the lie. It’s more comforting. Why do you think your brother never told anyone he was gay?"
She turned back toward the window. “I can’t believe...”
What? That her brother had been gay and never told her? That he was sick, and hadn’t told her that either? That he’d been killed by some…what? The thing she couldn’t believe was that she was no closer to the truth about what had taken her brother from her after confronting Shane than she had been before. She had gotten the truth, all right. Plenty of it—but it hadn’t been anything she’d expected.
“This is a very small town, Dusty. You know that as well as I do. They would have arrested me in a heartbeat.”
“You’re no saint, you know—"
"No, I know I'm no saint," Shane agreed, cutting her off and she could see the anger etched into his face even in the dimness. "But do you really think Chicago is the only place the law is corrupt?”
"Probably not," Dusty admitted, thinking of how defensive Buck Thompson had been that day, standing in her kitchen and telling her they were doing “everything they could.”
Shane sighed. "Anyway, that's why I didn't go to the cops.”
“What did you do?”
“I threw up.” He swallowed, his head down, eyes closed. “And then I went to the Starlite and told the guys Nick got sick and went home. I don’t think they believed me. And of course, they found Nick’s body the next day…”
Dusty stared at him. “Do they think you did it?”
“I don’t know,” he said bitterly. “They covered for me, anyway, even if they did. Lee covered for me too. The Sheriff even questioned that spastic kid. I think they were looking for him to slip up, but he didn't. I don’t know why I'm not in the state pen right now. There were beer cans out there with our fingerprints all over them, Dusty. I don't know who picked them up. Maybe the cops didn't even bother to check for prints. Maybe I just got lucky. I don’t know."
"But my brother…he wasn’t so lucky."
He shook his head. "I knew you wouldn't believe it, but Dusty, I swear to god I'm telling you the truth."
Dusty didn't look at him. She stared out into the empty road. Did she believe him?
looked like he was inside out the holes where his eyes had been in pieces like he got himself caught up in a meat grinder only thing that I know that can open doors is people shredded pieces the holes pieces his eyes
"Are you sure it wasn't human?" Dusty rubbed her hands over her arms, up and down.
"I don't know." He sounded tired and defeated. "I've never seen a human being with claws or teeth like that, but I've never seen an animal that wore three piece suits and walked upright and talked…so you tell me?"
Dusty turned it over in her mind. As incredulous as it was, she knew he believed it, and for some reason, it rang true to her own ears.
"Where did it come from?" she asked, remembering the image from her dream.
Shane wiped a hand across his eyes. "I don’t know. All I know is that it kills, and it eats what it kills."
Silence. Outside the snow had stopped falling. The wind whipped tree branches against the side of the house.
Dusty stared out, her back to Shane. "We’re going to kill it."
"What?" Shane asked from the bed.
Dusty turned to face him, arms folded across her chest. "I want to find it and I want to kill it. Like you said, we can't go to the police, so we're going to have to do it ourselves."
"You don't know what you're saying." Shane sat upright, eyes wide. "I don't even know if it can be killed."
"I want to try,” she said. “If you won't help me, I'll do it alone."
"You’re crazy.” Shane stared at her, incredulous. “Besides, maybe it's gone by now. There haven't been any more murders. Maybe it went where the food was better. Or maybe it…hibernates in the winter?”
She laughed softly. “Now who wants to believe the lie?”
Shane got up and came over to her, standing close. “We could both end up dead.”
“I have to.” She swallowed and looked out the window, her eyes overbright. “For Nick.”
He touched her cheek, catching a falling tear with his finger. She looked at him, not caring about the tears, letting them fall.
"You sweet girl," he whispered. "You sweet, stubborn girl. Do you love me?"
Dusty nodded, reaching out for him and he held her to him, tight.
He took a deep breath and whispered, "Okay, babe. We'll do it."
"Thank you," she said against his neck.
"I don't think you're going to be thanking me later," Shane replied. "Not after you see."
They stayed that way for a long time, alone in the darkness, taking comfort in the warmth they could find in each other's arms.
Part Three
Redemption
Chapter Twelve
"You're out of your mind!" Chris exploded, pushing away from the table. "If you think I'm going out on a manhunt for some—"
"Keep it down," Dusty hissed, glancing around the Starlite. It was a busy night and she had to get back to work in five minutes.
"Listen to me, Chris," Shane said in a low voice. "All of you, listen to me."
They got quiet. Chris sat back down. Billy, who had been leaning against the pool table, took a chair and pulled it up to the table. Evan sat down next to Jake.
“I’m telling you the truth,” Shane said. No one talked or even moved. "If we’re going to kill this thing, we need you guys. We can’t do this alone." Shane leaned back in his chair, surveying them.
"It's too much, man." Jake ran a hand through his long dark hair. " I'm not a kid anymore, Shane. I stopped believing in the boogeyman a long time ago."
"I’m telling you the truth," Shane said again.
"Okay." Evan pushed his glasses up on his nose with a deep sigh. "Okay, if we do, and I'm not saying that we are, but if we do go…do we have a plan?"
"If you think I'm going in there without a gun in both hands, you're crazy!" Jake said, shaking his head, his dark hair falling back across his left eye..
"Come on, guys," Shane smirked. “Did you think I wouldn’t bring guns?” He glanced at Dusty and a low communication passed between them—if guns can kill it.
"Enough for all of us?" Billy asked.
"Plenty," Shane agreed.
"And ammo?” Evan asked. “Guns don't help if we don't have bullets."
"Ammo, too," Dusty agreed. Shane looked at her, as surprised as everyone else. "Got it covered," she murmured.
"All right." Shane shrugged. "So what do you say? Are you guys in?"
They were silent. The Starlite's usual noise level seemed to rise—the clink of glasses and bottles, the low buzz of the T.V., the crack of billiard balls.
"For Nick." Billy was the first to speak and his voice was low. "I'm in."
"Count me in." Jake grinned. "Who knows, maybe we’ll be heroes?"
"All right, me too." Evan sounded reluctant, sliding his glasses back up.
They all looked at Chris and he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "We're probably going to end up spooking at an owl and shooting each other—but, yeah, okay, I'm in."
Dusty let out a sigh, closing her eyes. She’d never thought they would do it. She felt a hand in hers and opened her eyes to meet Shane's. He smiled at her and she smiled back.
"So when are we doing this thin
g?" Chris asked. "I'd like to have time to make out my will."
That broke everybody up. It wasn’t that funny, but it relieved the tension.
"Tomorrow night." Dusty looked around the table at all of them, wondering if they were doing the right thing.
"Enough of this, man, anybody up to a game of pool?" Billy asked. Evan agreed and Jake went to find a better selection on the juke, at Chris' request.
"Shane, this thing. This… monster?" Chris leaned his elbows on the table. "Are you sure? I mean, are you sure you weren't just hallucinating? You were pretty drunk when you showed up here that night."
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," Shane told him.
"It’s a little far-fetched, man," Chris said. "Either it was human or it wasn't. As far as I know, there isn't an in between."
"I don’t know." Shane looked between Dusty and Chris, shaking his head. "All I can say is that after you see it, if you see it, you can decide for yourself."
"Jesus." Chris put head in his hands. Then he looked up at Dusty. "Do you believe him?"
"He believes it," she said, looking at Shane. “That’s good enough for me.”
"Duh-Dusty?" Sam poked her shoulder and she jumped. "S- s-sorry, buh-but your b-b-break is over."
"Thanks, Sam." Dusty stood. "I'll be there in a minute." Shane caught her hand and she looked at him.
"Tonight.” He squeezed her hand.
She nodded and followed Sam, who glanced back to see if she was coming.
"P-p-problems?" Sam asked
"No," she said, taking her tray from Lee. "Why do you ask?"
"I huh-huh-heard him s-s-say suh-something about a muh-monster?"
Dusty looked at him, startled. How much had he overheard?
"It wasn’t anything," she assured him. "Just a private joke."
It was a feeble excuse and she smiled, trying to make it more convincing. He just looked at her.
"Well, got to get back to work," Dusty said.
Sam nodded and she moved away. Ten minutes later, when she looked back at the bar, he was still watching her.
* * * *
"Where did you get them?" Dusty stared at the pile of guns on his bed. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”
Shane laughed, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. There were four, no, five of them lying haphazardly on the threadbare bedspread. “None of them are loaded. But I have ammunition.”
“I told you, I know where we can get more.” Dusty looked back at him and he gave her a puzzled look.
“Is that so?”
"Trust me." She turned in his arms, smiling.
"I do." He sighed. “But I can’t help thinking about what’s going to happen.”
"We’re going to kill it."
He snorted. “You’re so sure of yourself.”
“You want to back out?”
Shane hesitated and then shook his head. "No. I should have... I should have saved him, Dusty. It… god, it should have been me.”
Stunned, she looked at him and then hugged him fiercely. "Don't say that. Don't ever say that."
"It's just the truth."
"No."
"Yes!" He pushed away from her and she stumbled from the force, turning and striding to the window. Dusty looked at him, running a hand through her hair. He was so solid, his arms crossed, hands cupping his elbows. His t-shirt pulled tautly across the hard muscles of his back, disappearing below the waistband of his Levis.
What could she say without being hypocritical? Hadn't she always wished him dead? She’d even threatened to kill him herself. Hadn't she thought the exact same thing? She had used him, hurt him and she now felt very small.
Yeah, but that was before…
Before what?
Before I realized I love him. Before I realized I’ve always loved him.
She’d once sworn she hated Shane Curtis, but she’d discovered the old saying— there's a fine line between love and hate—was very true. She had only to cross that line, and without even realizing it, already had. She loved Shane—more than she’d ever loved anyone in her life.
She came up behind him and leaned her cheek against his arm. They stayed that way for a moment, and then Shane drew a shaky breath and said, "Scott Summers was just twelve. You think you're going to live forever when you're twelve years old."
"It's not your fault." Dusty put her arms around his waist. "You couldn't control what happened. You couldn't have stopped it with your bare hands. We don't even know if a bullet will kill it."
"I could have told someone." He wiped a hand across his eyes. "Last night, when you asked me why I hadn't told anyone, I realized for the first time what I’d done."
"What?"
He sighed. "I might as well have put guns to their heads and shot them, Dusty. It probably would have been a lot quicker and less... painful. Here the cops were, looking in the wrong place for the wrong killer, and I knew."
He paused, closing his eyes for a moment and then finished. "I knew, but I didn't tell anyone. How selfish was that?"
"Human," Dusty murmured. "Just human, that's all."
He turned and took her in his arms, seeking comfort, and she gave it to him, holding tight. Her kisses were soft, her hands caressing, and she let him get lost in her, lost in the moment, pushing away the reality of what might be.
“I want to go away with you.” He nuzzled her neck, her ear, whispering. “I didn’t tell you…but I bought a little place further up north. Used the money I got from my little hunting expeditions.”
She smiled, nuzzling him back. “Were you planning on running away?”
“God, I want out of this town,” he murmured, pulling her in closer. “Would you come with me?”.
She nodded, closing her eyes and giving in. “Anywhere.”
He kissed her then, his mouth soft, his tongue probing. She gave into that, too, arching against him, moaning softly when his thigh slid eagerly between hers.
He backed her up toward the bed and then broke their kiss, gasping, “Gotta move the guns.”
“No, don’t,” she said with a smile, wiggling up against him. “They make me feel sexy.”
He laughed. “Guns make you feel sexy?”
“Mmm.” She ran her hands up under his shirt. “Hard steel… all that… power…”
“Dusty,” he whispered against her neck as she slid her hand over the crotch of his jeans.
“Ever had sex in a pile of guns?” she asked, taking her t-shirt off and unhooking her bra. His eyes moved over her, hungry, and then it was his hands, cupping and kneading her flesh.
“No, not on the guns,” he said as she turned away from him, unbuttoning her jeans and sliding them over her hips along with her panties. “Dusty, seriously…”
She crawled up on the bed on her hands and knees, feeling the cool metal of the .45 against her wrist as she found a place to put her hands in the midst of the weapons laid out on his bed.
“Come on,” she whispered, arching her back, sticking her bottom in the air.
He groaned and she smiled when she heard the sound of his zipper. Then he was behind her, and then he was inside her, and she lost and found herself with him again and again.
Dusty’s hands gripped the bedspread, and she found her hand wrapped around one of the guns, a .38, maybe the one that would kill the monster that took her brother’s life.
When Shane drover her forward onto the bed, pressing his full weight into her. Dusty gasped, feeling the cold steel of the guns biting her belly and thighs, but she arched and took all of him as his hands dug into her shoulders to gain more leverage. She twisted and arched underneath him, feeling the hard steel of the guns against her skin until they were both spent, his weight on her crushing the air from her lungs, but she didn’t care.
“Ouch,” she said finally, and he laughed, standing up and pulling her with him. She had little red marks where her skin had been pressed into metal.
“It was your bright idea,” he m
urmured, kissing her deeply.
They got dressed again, grinning at each other all the while.
"We need that ammunition I was talking about," she said, looking at the clock on the night table that read 3:12 a.m. She grabbed her coat off his dresser. "No better time than the present."
"Where are we going?" Shane asked, smiling, bemused.
"Cougar's."
He turned to stare at her. "Cougar's General Store? We're going to get ammunition from the general store at three in the morning?"
"Trust me," she said again, shrugging her jacket on. He sighed, pulling his leather on.
"Shane?" Dusty asked, watching him put the guns in a box and store them under his bed.
"What?" He flicked out the light. The full moon shone into the room, casting eerie shadows.
"What happens if guns don't work?" she asked. "What if it can’t be killed?"
"Well," he said, opening the bedroom door. "Either one or all of us will die." She looked at him in the pale moonlight and her heart seemed to forget to beat.
"I love you," she said. "Whatever happens." It was the first time she’d ever actually spoken those words to him out loud.
He held his hand out to her and she took it, letting him lead her.
"I know," he said, and shut the door behind them.
* * * *
"How did you know all of this was here?" Shane whispered, looking at the assorted boxes of ammunition on the shelves in the back of Cougar's General Store.
"How did you know how to disconnect the alarm?" Dusty whispered back and Shane laughed. "Fair enough. Here, put these in your pockets."
He began to hand her boxes of ammunition. She couldn’t read them in the dark, but when Shane held the flashlight up to the shelves, she made out some of the print. He was handing her ammunition for a forty-five, a thirty-eight, ammunition for shotguns, handguns...
"Look," he said, shining his flashlight on a box. "That's honest-to-god for a machine gun. You know anyone with a machine gun?"
She shook her head and shrugged.
“Seems to me like Cougar's running a little illegal business on the side. Check those out." He shined the flashlight farther down the shelf.