by Sara Clancy
Steadily, one sound emerged from the haze. A hard, steady beating that he, at first, mistook for his own heart. But with each repetition, the noise grew louder until there could be no mistake. It was the sound of beating wings. Colossal wings. Ones without the rustle of feathers. Something bat-like. The settling sand stirred once more, this time scattering from his riffle in all directions at once.
It’s above me.
His rapid heartbeat was like thunder in his chest. An icy chill rolled down his spine even as his hands began to sweat. Steadying himself, he tipped his face up. One powerful whoosh and the sand dispersed, clearing a small patch of the sky allowing him to catch sight of the creature that hovered above him. Aleksandr’s eyes widened. That’s not possible.
The creature’s body was hunched and disjointed, easily kept aloft by the slow beat of its enormous, leathery wings. Its torso was somehow both gaunt and muscular at once, covered in a thin layer of what looked to be toughened sheepskin, exposing every jut of bone and curve of muscle. Its arms resembled something human, but mummified and tipped with claws, and it kept them close to its bulbous chest. Aleksandr trailed his eyes from its horned face to its cloven feet but couldn’t believe that any of it was real. The fangs, however, his brain had no trouble processing. Without them, the monster’s face would have almost resembled a horse. Saliva dripped from them as it locked its tiny, glowing red eyes onto Aleksandr and swooped.
Jarred from his shock, Aleksandr threw himself away from its outstretched claws, only remembering the cliff when he fell over it. He clawed at the side of the cliff as he fell, the rock crumbling and slipping past his fingertips. His forgotten Kalashnikov swung out wide until the strap snapped and began to choke him. Broken stone sliced open his hand, making blood slick his tenuous grip. His feet crunched each ledge they found, adding to the rainstorm of rubble that washed out around him.
Entirely unprepared to discover a decent handhold, he almost fell from his small perch in surprise. The ledge was barely wider than the width of a belt, but the security it offered left Aleksandr deliriously happy. Each heaved breath threatened to dislodge him, but he pressed tighter still. Close enough that the rough stone scratched the side of his face as he looked back up.
The dust settled once again, leaving nothing to block or distort his vision of the monster that now crouched on the rim. The monstrosity watched him with unblinking eyes that glowed like smoldering embers. Trapped in place, he could only watch as it slowly pulled its lips back in a snarl, exposing rows of splintered fangs. The sound it made was a grotesque mix of a growl and a purr. It enjoyed his fear. Delighted in his helplessness.
Tipping forward, it stretched its bony arms out towards the wall of stone. Barely able to breathe, Aleksandr wrenched one hand free and reached behind him for his dangling riffle. He flinched as each nail clicked against the side of the rock wall. The gun slipped from his reaching grasp. Above him, the creature growled again, sending fresh spirals of panic swirling through his stomach. In his desperation, he threw himself hard and swayed wildly, almost losing his grip. Rubble dropped down on top of him, the debris marking the sound of crunching stone. Still struggling for his weapon, he looked back up. Wide-open jaws consumed his attention. For one gut-wrenching moment, he thought the monster was already on him. But then other meaning slipped back into his awareness. Most notably, the good distance that remained between them. That distance was rapidly diminishing as the monster crawled head first down the wall towards him.
Aleksandr reached behind him again. Sparks of pain crackled through his shoulder joint as he strained. Blood slicked his fingertips, slipped the hilt of the gun out of his grasp every time he managed to touch it. The battle clattered against the wall. His feet struggled to keep their position as he threw himself harder into his desperate grab. Hot spit dripped onto his face as the monster rapidly closed the remaining distance between them.
Grabbing the strap, he yanked hard to slide the rifle around. Seconds felt like hours as he fumbled to get the butt of the gun in his hands. With one last surge, he managed to get it in his palm and swing it around as best he could while the strap still choked him. It was an awkward angle that made it almost impossible to properly brace for the recoil.
He fired off a shot.
The sudden kickback knocked him loose, and he slid for a short distance before managing to find another hold. All that effort had been a waste. The bullet had gone wide. Not even nicking the monstrosity. His finger trembled as he squeezed the trigger again. Again, it slid across the stone wall, barely losing any speed as it avoided pathetic shots. Its jaws stretched wide as it consumed the last distance separating them. Rancid breath assaulted Aleksandr's nose even as he tucked his head to his chin, a pitiful attempt to protect himself. One last shot and there was nothing left to do but brace for the inevitable bite.
Chapter 6
Aleksandr clutched at the wall, suspended in that torturous moment of anticipation, feeling every second as it ticked away. His blind panic couldn’t last forever. Gradually, it faded. His heartbeat kept its furious pace, but he could at least think again. It dawned on him that it wasn't just a trick of perception. His surge of adrenaline wasn't playing with his concept of time. A few minutes had passed, and the monster had yet to strike.
Taking a few sobering breaths, he gathered his courage and forced himself to look up. A part of him expected to see the hideous deformity an inch from his face. Waiting him out. Wanting to see his facial expression as it tore his skin apart. But there was nothing to block the blazing sun, and he was left to squint against its glare.
A long, uneven stretch of stone rose up before him to push against the clear blue sky. Blood seeped from his fingertips as his hands shook. While it greased his already tenuous grip on the rifle, he managed to keep it pressed tight against his skin as he glanced around, searching for any sign of the beast. Nothing. Everything was in place and order. No more suicidal animals. No disgusting growls. No stirred dust or steady beat of wings. Just the glaring sun and the oppressive heat.
Aleksandr released a disbelieving, near delirious huff. Not exactly a laugh but close. He could have believed that it had all been in his head if it wasn’t for the single drop of saliva that oozed through the cold sweat on his forehead. That one bit of proof grounded him. It was real, a voice whispered in his head. So where did it go?
Tightening his grip, he looked around again, this time making sure to check the ground far below. The deadly drop didn’t bother him at that moment. Nor did the dozens of animals and smears of blood that marred the stone slab. What turned his flesh to ice was the distinct lack of anything that resembled the monster he had seen. If one of his stray bullets had managed to find their target, it hadn't been a kill shot. Where the hell is it?
While the monster remained hidden, something took his notice. Thin shadows gathered in a series of holes that worked their way up the side of the cliff. A rhythmic pattern of holes that started at the rim and stopped a few inches from his weak handholds. It took a moment for his muddled brain to figure out what he was seeing. More proof. The creature’s claws had gouged chunks out of the stone and, if he reached far enough, he could touch them. The discovery made his head snap up with enough haste that he almost dislodged himself from his ledge. This time, he focused his attention on the sky. It’s the only place it could have gone, he reasoned to himself.
“Alek!”
A jolt ran through him at the sudden bellow of his name. His hands squeezed, pulling the trigger. The bullet pinged off the canyon wall, and the recoil slammed into his hip. Unprepared, it knocked him from his perch. A sharp whine filled his ears as he scrambled to steady himself. Finally, he managed to press himself back against the stone. It burned against his cheek as his heartbeat ricocheted within his skin. As the sensations faded, he noticed the booming cackling laughter that echoed off the canyon walls.
“A little jumpy today,” Petya called down to him with mirth.
Not daring to peel his body off of the stone just y
et, Aleksandr slid his face up, letting his eyes do most of the work to bring the canyon rim into view. A moment later, his father's head poked out over the edge. Aleksandr could only stare at him. Is he real?
A familiar taunting smile stretched Petya’s face, still visible despite the distance.
“What kind of idiot falls over the edge?” he bellowed down. With an edge of excitement, he added quickly, “Is there blood? An exposed bone?”
Aleksandr took a sobering breath. Or at least tried to. The swell of his chest almost pushed him free. He still didn’t know if his father was real or a phantom. Either way, he reasoned that it was worth the effort of talking to ‘it’.
“I’m fine.”
“Shame,” Petya chuckled.
Readjusting his grip, Aleksandr pushed his face up just a little more, ensuring that his voice would be clear when he asked, “Is it up there?”
The trigger was smooth and cool under his skin. It wasn’t gun safety, he knew, but he wasn’t removing his finger until he was entirely sure that it was gone.
“Who?” Petya shouted.
A fresh spike of fear almost dislodged him. Who. Not what. That word opened up options Aleksandr didn't want to contemplate.
“Are the twins with you? Did you bring them out here?”
If there was a benevolent spirit that gave a damn about humanity, Aleksandr knew it wouldn't listen to someone like him, but he still prayed, just in case. Please, let them be safe. Don't let them be up there.
“Why?” The tip in his tone was blatantly teasing.
Aleksandr clenched his teeth. A sharp snarl cut through every word as he screamed at his father, “Are they up there?!”
Any other time in his life, fear would have instantly broken Aleksandr’s bravado. Today, however, fear let him clutch his rage close. Petya’s voice was like an arctic breeze as he replied.
“No.”
Aleksandr sagged with relief. At least, as much as he could, given his current situation.
“You better have a damn good reason for talking to me like that, boy,” Petya added.
Now, his courage chose to leave him, and he was left to grapple for an excuse. Something his father would believe. He had the notion of coming up with some grand explanation, but what came out of his mouth was simply, “There was something up there! A monster!”
A long moment of silence followed.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Petya laughed.
“I saw something,” Aleksandr insisted.
Petya’s laughter grew louder, filling the canyon and sky. “What drugs are you on?”
“Nothing.”
“Peyote and roaming the desert is a little Mason Family, don’t you think? I raised you to have some higher standards.”
Aleksandr released a long sigh. If Petya felt comfortable enough to mock him, then the demonic creature couldn’t be anywhere within sight. And that left him with another problem. His arm was throbbing, and his fingers were going numb. If he didn't get to the rim soon, his only option was going to be down, and even that wouldn’t be easy.
The moment he released his grip, the rifle swung around to tap against his spine. With near expert precision, the long, still-heated metal found the holes in his ragged cargo pants and seared his skin. He clenched his jaw and tried his best to ignore the pain. Studying his situation again didn’t reveal any good options.
Waving one hand to regain Petya's attention, he shouted, “Throw down a rope?”
A wave of dust and rubble toppled down on his head as Petya shifted around for a better look.
“You got down there. You can get back up yourself.”
Separation and the shield of his sunglasses left Aleksandr feeling safe enough to roll his eyes. Right. Stupid to even ask. Readjusting his grip, he eyed the deep grooves carved into the stone nearest his hand. If they were stable enough, the claw marks would work as a ladder. A small mercy. That’s where his luck ended, however. There wasn’t much that could serve as decent footholds, so for the vast majority of his trip, his arms would be doing all of the work. Licking his lips and rolling his shoulders, he mentally prepared himself for the climb. Years of hunting, boxing, and carrying dead bodies had left him top heavy. All of his strength was located in his arms. The rest of him was slim and, given that he was on the shorter side, it was easy enough for him to pull himself up in a dead lift. Aleksandr knew he could trust his body. In situations like these, the mind was what gave out first. Determination was a powerful but fragile thing. And integral to survival.
One last, soothing breath and he committed himself to the task. He rolled his shoulders, tightened his grip, and locked his eyes onto his target. Jumping as hard as he could and stretching his short body to the point of breaking, he desperately worked his fingers into the gaps. It wasn’t the best grip but enough for him to launch up and surge towards the next.
It didn’t take long for fire to crackle alight behind his ribs. The inferno spread quickly, striving to consume every muscle above his torso. Sweat dripped from his skin. Soaked through, his shirt plastered to his skin and trapped in increasing body heat. He blocked out the pain, the quiver in his arms and the fear that brimmed inside him every time he recalled that there was nothing beyond his dangling feet. All that existed was the next handhold. Then the next. It felt like his body was shaking apart by the time his bloody, questing hand wrapped around the rim.
All of the pain to get there couldn’t compete with the agony of those last few inches. Petya gave a bored huff as he watched the odds of his son plummeting to his death steadily dwindling. Aleksandr hooked his leg over the edge and Petya decided that his parenting skills deserved a little appreciation. He idly bragged about setting motivational challenges and aiding in character development. Sprawled out, body on the uneven stones and face smothered in sand, Aleksandr let all of the words fade into a white noise. Delighted as he was to be alive, he couldn’t enjoy it. As his adrenaline faded, memories of his encounter rose up from the depths of his mind. Flopping onto his back, he sucked in deep, heavy breaths, and tried to make some sense of it all. Both his euphoria and horror at the mysteries of it were snuffed out the instant Petya’s grinning face filled his vision. He blocked out the sun as he loomed over him.
“Don’t suppose you have any more of that peyote with you,” Petya said.
Aleksandr didn’t bother to argue that he was sober. Instead, he just shook his head, feeling the sand stick to every inch of his sweat drenched skin.
“Selfish,” Petya scoffed under his breath. “I was looking forward to an interesting afternoon.”
“Sorry.”
Petya waved him off and retreated into Aleksandr’s peripheral vision. Sitting up was awkward. Each muscle had taken advantage of his momentary inactivity to clench up and turn to stone. Exhausted by the time he got up, he rested his forearms on his bent knees and lowered his head. Questions bubbled up from the haze of his mind. None of it made any sense, however, until he unhooked his canteen from his belt and guzzled down a few mouthfuls of water. Wiping his face with his arm just exchanged sweat rather than cleaned any of it away.
“What are you doing here?” Aleksandr asked.
He was happy about his sunglasses as he glanced at Petya’s face. It felt like some small measure of protection. His father’s smile grew as he held his hands out wide. For all his showmanship, he was admiring the view, not looking at his son.
“I was looking for you. Why else would I be out here?”
That question could never have an unsettling answer. Instead of answering, Aleksandr decided to ask another of his own.
“How did you find me?”
The moment he had voiced the question, he realized how desperate he was to hear his father acknowledge that something was wrong. That he had seen the monster. That the only reason he found him was because the monstrosity had drawn his attention. Something. Anything.
“I was young once, too,” Petya laughed. “I know the desire to revisit your kills.
Although, I must admit, the gunfire did help a bit.”
Aleksandr let his head slump back down, attempting to make the gesture look like one of exhaustion. In truth, he just wanted to hide his disgust at the thought of seeing the mound of corpses that would now be rotting into each other under the summer heat. Swallowing thickly, he asked if Petya had noticed the animal displaying any odd behavior. The older man laughed.
“Are you still going on about this? You’re high. Just enjoy the ride.”
Aleksandr nodded and choked down some more water. As the cool liquid trailed down his throat, it occurred to him that perhaps he was. When boredom and opportunity lined up, Olga liked to experiment. Mostly, she would just spike his food with different things to see what happened when he ingested them. He hoped she had gotten tired of the habit, especially since he had learned to keep a secret stash of pre-packaged food and sealed drinks. Had she found the stockpile? His gut twisted at the thought. There was comfort in knowing that he had planned for such an event. He always kept the twins’ food separate from his own. Still, he made a mental note to ask them if they had experienced any ill effects.
Feeling sturdier, he got to his feet. Pain sizzled across his skin and he noticed just how much damage his fall had caused. Part of his shirt was shredded. A thick layer of dirt changed the color of the material, with bloodstains poking out from the mess. His chest was cut up, but with a bit of prodding, he found none of the damage was all that deep. Nothing that couldn’t be ignored for a while. Despite his best efforts, a pained groan escaped him as he straightened.
“You look like hell,” Petya commented.
Aleksandr didn’t reply and Petya didn’t expect him to.
The heat had made the canteen water unpleasantly warm, but Aleksandr forced down a few mouthfuls before he finally looked around. Petya had brought the off-road vehicle with him. A high set jeep designed to bounce right over the sand dunes. It was parked a safe distance from the rim but definitely close enough that he should have heard the engine. He hadn’t heard a thing.