He lifted the ticket from the seat and handed it to her.
She looked at the four-hundred-and-fifty-dollar total.
“Sorry, Bryan. I’ll help pay this.”
“Damn right you will,” Johnny said.
Silence fell over the cab as the light continued to fade from the day. Wendy got lost in the back and forth dance of the wiper blades.
…..
Crouched behind the trees, naked and sweating having tossed his clothes, Arthur felt the beast within making its way out. He’d held back as long as he could, but the wolf would wait no more. At least he hadn’t attacked her. It’d been a battle to keep from running out and grabbing her and taking her back with him. He couldn’t wait to copulate with her. He stepped from the woods and inhaled her scent one more time before his stomach clenched and dropped him to his knees.
Their tail lights faded as he howled into the night.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Paul arrived home, but couldn’t force himself to kill the engine.
“Shit,” he said.
Hurt or not, he couldn’t leave Wendy out there alone in the rain. It would be pitch black any minute. He put the car in reverse and turned back the way he’d came.
He clicked the button on his steering wheel. “Play my playlist: Wendy #6”
Melancholy keyboards and acoustic guitar came to life as Ryan Adams voice crackled through the speakers.
His parents hated her. They hated that he couldn’t let her go. He didn’t care and they didn’t understand anything. They didn’t love each other and had no concept of what it was like to care about someone outside of themselves. They threw money at him and thought that counted, but that proved how clueless they were. Wendy had been his one true friend since third grade when he’d moved to Coopers Mills. He wished she’d see how perfect they could be together, and part of him, though that part was growing quieter with every passing year, thought she’d come around, eventually.
Rebecca Ying had asked him out, and he had considered it. Maybe it would make Wendy jealous. Maybe she didn’t think so, but maybe it would. Love was like that, sometimes you didn’t realize what you had until it wasn’t there. Damn it, he just wished he could make her love him.
Whatever, he thought. He was going to tell Rebecca yes.
He clicked another button on his wheel. The music stopped. “Dial 207 453-0098.”
The phone on the other end rang through the car speakers.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Rebecca. It’s Paul.”
“Hi, Paul.”
“Yeah, so, I thought about it and I think…I think we should go out sometime.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I mean, if you still want to.”
“Yes, yes, I mean, sure.”
“How’s dinner tomorrow night at The Shallows sound?”
“Wow, The Shallows? Isn’t that in Boothbay?”
“Yes, how about I pick you up around 5pm?”
“That sounds great,” she said.
“All right, great. I’m driving at the moment, so I’ll call you tomorrow beforehand and make sure we’re good?”
“Okay.”
“Bye, Rebecca.”
“Bye.”
He’d have to make a reservation sooner than later for them at The Shallows. It was one of the most popular seafood restaurants on the coast.
He’d done it. He’d made a date. He had a date, and with it, a sense of pride.
“I have a date,” he said aloud.
He smiled and felt a warmth flooding his cheeks.
Maybe Wendy was right. Maybe he just needed to give other girls a chance. He still didn’t think so, but maybe. He was nearly lost in thought as the orange sign for the outlet road illuminated in his headlights.
He turned off Peacock Road and wondered if he’d missed Wendy while lost in his daydreams. Oh well, he’d check the cabin first, and make sure to pay extra attention on the way back. At least the rain had stopped.
Halfway down the outlet road he squinted. There was something standing in the center of the road.
“What in the world?” he said. He applied the brake and came to stop twenty feet from something white and massive.
It hadn’t turned to face him yet when he realized what he was looking at.
The white wolf.
God in Heaven. It was real. It was really real. And it was right there.
Oh God. It’s right there.
The creature bared its rows of knife-like teeth. Its thick, furry chest puffed out, and the monster unleashed a blood-curdling wail.
Paul fumbled for the gear shift and put the car in reverse.
He whimpered as the beast lunged at him and landed on the car’s hood. He screamed and slammed the brake. The beast disappeared over the roof. Paul threw the car in DRIVE and floored it. He didn’t know where the outlet road came out, but he didn’t care. He saw the monster in his rearview mirror, bathed in the red of his tail lights, chasing after him, but falling farther behind.
“Yeah,” he shouted, pumping a fist. He’d escaped. He’d seen the white wolf and was going to live to—
He slammed his brakes on.
“No!” he cried.
The road came to a set of cement barriers. Beyond them was a trail into the woods.
He gripped the steering wheel and shook it violently. “No, no, no!”
A distant howl made him snap his head around. He couldn’t see anything out the back window. He knew he was going to have to try and speed by it. There was no other way. He turned the car around and began heading back.
The thought hit him: Wendy. Oh God, what if it got her? What if that thing found her and killed her, because I left her out here. That’s why I didn’t see her. She’s dead. God, no, please…
The road was empty as he reached the driveway to the cabin. The beast was gone.
He slowed as he approached the driveway.
What if she’s still in there? What if that horrible thing hadn’t found her yet and she’s hiding in the cabin?
Paul pulled into the driveway and stopped before the steps. He rolled his window down, stuck his head out, and glanced around. There was no sign of the white wolf.
“Wendy, are you in there?”
Christ, he didn’t want to get out and check. The monster could be anywhere.
“Wendy, if you’re in there, come on, quickly, please.”
She wasn’t there. He backed down the driveway. He was nearly to the road when a white blur rushed his driver’s side window and slammed his car off the driveway.
Paul let out a high-pitched scream as his side of the car rose into the air. The world flipped upside down as the car crashed down on its roof. He tried to open the door, but it refused to budge. He shouldered it several times to no avail.
The beast’s feet came into view. He clasped his hands over his mouth, stifling another cry. Why he wasn’t sure, because it knew where he was, but still it gave him the most minute amount of comfort to think he could disappear, even just for a moment.
What is it waiting for?
A clawed hand gripped the door, its powerful fingers punctured the metal before the entire thing tore away and flew out of sight.
Paul covered his face and began to weep.
The monster clawed his chest as it snatched hold of him. He felt its talons puncture his flesh, and red-hot pain burst to life as it pulled him from the vehicle.
He was in the air, blood pooling under the front of his shirt, as the Beast of Brenton Woods, the white wolf, gazed into his soul with its yellow eyes and roared into his face. Spittle and chunks of God knows what thudded against his cheeks and eyelids.
His bladder let go as the monster buried its razorblade teeth into his shoulder and ripped muscle, flesh, and bones away. His arm hung at his side, held by the last vestiges of sinew and tendon which flared with heat and searing pain. He was tossed to the ground where he did his best to curl up in a ball.
The wolfman stood above
him. He felt the claws penetrate his flesh and ride from his hip to where the ruined arm was still attached. And then, his arm was gone. Another slash of claws turned Paul over onto his back, but he refused to open his eyes. He didn’t want to watch it happen.
Another swipe bloodied him from the belly button to under his chin. He struggled for breath. As his hand went to his stomach, it landed upon wet, stringy chunks protruding from within. The air changed in front of his face and he opened his eyes. Saliva from the beast’s mouth drooled into his vision, blurring the monster as it reared back, howled, and descended upon him.
He heard a loud crunch as its jaws snapped through his face and skull, and then, nothing more.
…
Ben heard the horrible sound somewhere off in the night. He and Tyler froze on the porch.
Their trip to the fort had been tense, but outside of the crow scaring the piss out of them, uneventful, for which he was extremely grateful. Hearing the beast now though, he knew they’d been lucky.
“C-can your mom give me a ride home?” Tyler said.
He waited for another howl. When it came, he shivered.
“I don’t think we should be out here,” Ben said. “I don’t think it’s safe anymore.”
SUNDOWN
CHAPTER TWELVE
Tyler fell asleep two movies into their Friday the 13th marathon. Ben wasn’t interested in watching the killer flicks alone. He shut down the DVD player and clicked over to TBS, grateful to see Peter Griffin’s face on the screen. He also had to get the gun back into his mother’s closet before she decided to do some random check. Tyler had been a pain, asking to hold it and pleading for them to fire it again. Ben didn’t budge. His mother had preached to him about the seriousness of owning a gun. They were not toys and should never be treated as such. She’d let him fire the pistol at the shooting range in Richmond, on a couple of occasions, but he never felt confident holding the thing.
Ben got up, grabbed his iPad and headphones from his bureau, and shut the TV off. The darkness stirred the dread in his stomach. The light of the iPad’s screen came on, alleviating some of the fear. He searched his stored files, trying to find something funny he hadn’t seen. Tyler was always ripping movies off the internet and sending them to him. He stumbled across the folder he’d tucked his father away in. Hard to believe it’d only been three years. He wished his dad was here for a million reasons, but tonight, he just wanted to know more about the white wolf.
He opened the folder and started swiping through the photos. He hadn’t looked at them since his birthday last year. He’d be fourteen in a few months, not that he celebrated it like he used to. It was hard to be happy on the anniversary of the accident. His mom did such a great job trying to help make the day better, since she got him the PS4 last year, and they were going away this year. She hadn’t told him where to yet, but she’d promised sunshine and waves. He hoped it was California. He’d love to get as far away as he could, but being that his grandparents were in Florida, that seemed a more likely destination. He stopped, swiping on a picture of him and his dad dressed in Foo Fighters t-shirts and making devil horns. The memory of his first concert stirred the tears to life. He hated breaking down into that “life’s not fair” mode. It was easier just putting the past away. He closed out of the file and searched for some music to fall asleep to, but nothing seemed right. Too heavy, too depressing, so he shut the device off, and lay there awake.
He didn’t want to think about that day, but he couldn’t help it.
His father had been a contractor his entire life, but when Ben was eight or nine his dad took a third shift job working on state highway crews. The job sent him all over Maine, New Hampshire, and Massachusetts, but he claimed it bought him more time at home. Ben vaguely remembered his dad acting like a zombie for the first few months, but once he’d gotten used to working overnight, he really seemed to be happy. And it worked for Ben, as well. His father was awake and there waiting for him every day after school. At least a few times a week, they’d go out to the diner in town for shakes and fries, or onion rings, Ben’s favorite. Other times, they’d grab Tyler and the three of them would go out hiking the woods. Ben never thought much of it at the time, but his father always brought his rifle with him. He said it was in case of a bear or a bobcat, but in all the time spent out there, Ben had never seen a trace of either creature.
Then came his eleventh birthday. The Foo Fighters concert had been two days before. His father always came home. Even if he had a job in all the way down in Springfield he’d drive the three and half hours home at dawn. Most of the guys he worked with that were from here or farther away would stay at motels, but being home with his family had always been his dad’s number one priority. On that Tuesday morning, it wasn’t his father but Sheriff Decker that pulled into the driveway. Ben came out of the bathroom blurry-eyed and half-awake to witness his mom burying her face in her hands. He knew it was something awful. Something impossible.
“Oh, Ben…” his mother said.
A distant yet clear howl drifted through his open window that brought Ben back. He wiped the tears with the palms of his hands and walked over to the window. The rain clouds had cleared, only a few stragglers were left behind. Ben watched one cross in front of the big, fat pale moon in the night sky.
The white wolf was out there. He had no doubt. He was suddenly too tired to be afraid. Instead he wondered where the beast had been all these years. His father had seen it as a kid his own age, and they’d not seen or heard about it since. Where had it gone? And what had brought it back?
Ben closed the window and turned on the box fan on top of his book shelf.
What would you do if you were here? Would you go looking for it?
He just remembered the look in his father’s eyes as he retold the story of his youth. A fascination and a fear. Ben understood. As scared as he’d been in its presence, he too felt the need to discover the truth. To solve the mystery of the Beast of Brenton Woods.
…..
Deputy Kenny Rutherford was sitting out back of Variety Grocers. Beth Reese’s head was buried in his lap. The thirty-one-year old waitress from The Bluebird Diner gave the best blow jobs in town. He grabbed the bun on the back of her head and shoved downward. She gagged and he laughed.
As she tried to come up for air he held her in place.
“Ah, ah, ah, finish it,” he said. She gave in and went back to work on his cock. He loved it when she swallowed.
“Yeah, baby,” he said as he felt his orgasm coming. “Yeah, yeah,” he grunted. “Arrhhhh.” He exploded in her mouth. His entire body spasmed as she sucked every last drop of cum.
“Oh my fuck,” he said.
“Kenny, you there?”
Deputy Wilcox voice came over his com.
“Shit,” he said.
Beth sat up, wiping her chin. “You’re gonna tear up my nephew’s ticket now, right? That was the deal.”
He’d promised Beth the world a million times over, her blow jobs were well worth it, but erasing a ticket, well, that might take a little more. Especially when it was Bryan Smith’s ticket. The kid’s old man, Barry, was a mean motherfucker and would beat the shit out of him. If his aunt really cared…. well, she could offer up a little more.
“Well, about that—”
“Fuck you, Kenny. You told me you would. You told me—”
“Deputy Rutherford!”
“Shhh, we’ll talk about it more later,” he said to Beth. “Right now, I have to work.”
Picking up the com he said, “Yeah, Wilcox, what is it?”
“Just got a call from Harriet Newman. I need you to meet me out at Conway Yates’s place.”
“What for?”
Beth went for the door. He grabbed her wrist, and said, “Hold on, we’re not done yet.”
She jerked her arm free and flopped back against the seat crossing her arms over her chest.
“Never mind what for, because I told you to. Now hurry it up.”
<
br /> “That fucking bitch thinks she’s the boss. Yeah, right.”
“She’s a better cop than you are,” Beth spat.
He reached out and backhanded her. “Shut your cocksucking mouth. You don’t ever talk to me like that. See what you did? Now you’ve pissed me off. Get out.”
She started to cry. “But Bryan’s ticket?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take care of it. But you still owe me. Now get. I’ll come by tomorrow night after I get off.”
She opened the door. “But what if Nate’s still home?”
“Your dipshit husband ain’t my concern. ‘Sides, he’s a queer, you said so yourself. Tell him to head over to his boyfriend’s little fag bar in Haden Hills. I don’t care, just get rid of him.”
“Okay, yeah, I can do that,” Beth got out and shut the door. She leaned into the window. “You better take care of my nephew.”
“I told you I would, didn’t I? Now I gotta go deal with another bossy bitch, so get movin’”
“You’re an asshole,” she said, as she turned and walked away.
“Yeah, but you love my cock,” he grumbled to himself. She didn’t need to know that he’d already squealed on her dipshit nephew earlier at The Depot. To hell with her, she couldn’t prove it was him. He’d get more out of her yet.
Clicking the com, he said, “On my way,” and set it back in its cradle. He started the car and squealed his tires as he pulled out onto Main Street and headed East.
…..
Harriet Newman was hysterical. Kathy couldn’t blame her. There were pieces of what she assumed was Conway Yates strewn from the front porch of his home, across the yard, and to the edge of the woods. The old man had been mauled and fed upon by something big, before the smaller creatures ventured onto his property for the rest of the scraps. It was speculation on her part, but she was certain whatever shredded the deer at the Cutter kid’s house last night had paid Mr. Yates a visit, as well.
“I…I hadn’t seen him…we were supposed to have our Saturday morning’ brunch together…I fix him eggs over easy, some wheat toast with strawberry jam… and …and…”
The Beast of Brenton Woods Page 5