He sniffed and listened. Finally, he caught something. It was small, no more than a branch breaking, but he heard it. Somehow, the stupid things had gotten behind him. They would pay for their trickery.
* * *
Those are a couple of smart girls, thought Chuck Wayans. He didn’t have a clean shot, but he could see enough to know that the girls had left their backpacks behind for the squatch to find. Still, something about it bothered him. Squatches were smart, very smart. There’s no way it should have fallen for the ruse. There was also no reason for it to waste time destroying the packs when the girls were obviously on the move. Chuck was beginning to question whether this particular squatch might be a tad retarded when he saw it turn in the direction where he was hiding.
Although he was sure the nine-foot creature hadn’t seen him, he reflexively took a single step back. He heard the crackle beneath his foot even as he tried to stop himself. It wasn’t much, no more than a twig. A man at that distance wouldn’t have even heard it. But the thing that was out there was no man. The unearthly silence of the creature’s presence was broken as it let out a bellow and charged.
* * *
“Sit down, and don’t make any noise,” Mitchell commanded the group. He had heard the creature screaming, then Derek’s voice had blared in his earpiece, “It’s going for Chuck!” It had seen them. It was an effort for Mitchell not to bolt in the direction of his team. He knew, though, he’d help them best by doing the job he’d been tasked with.
As for the others, Greg didn’t need much convincing from Mitchell. He slumped against a tree, panting heavily and in obvious discomfort. Rob and the cute Asian girl likewise did as they were told.
Mitchell was pleasantly surprised to see the other hiker, Harrison, put a hand on Phil’s shoulder and guide him down. That one was keeping his wits about him surprisingly well. Clever, too, he noted. In appearing to give comfort, he was also making sure the other kid wouldn’t have a chance to run.
Mitchell knelt next to them for a moment and looked the pseudo-Indian in the face. “Whatever you do, don’t make a sound. You don’t want that thing to find us, do you?” It was reverse psychology at its finest. The kid was scared to death and probably ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. So instead of trying to downplay that, which would have only resulted in a lot of running and screaming, Mitchell used the fear to push him past that and into a place where he’d hopefully want to do nothing more than curl up into a little ball ... a quiet one at that.
* * *
Harrison, seeing what the medic was doing, gave him a small smile of gratitude. Despite their status as prisoners, he began to feel hopeful. Now all they had to do was keep from getting killed.
He was just beginning to think that might actually be possible when the shooting started.
Chapter 14
Derek and Francis heard the commotion ahead. It sounded like all hell had broken loose. First there was the bellowing of the creature, then the angry growl as it abruptly reversed direction. Derek had barely enough time to yell a warning into the radio before he heard the shot. It was Chuck’s bolt action rifle. As the thunderous noise died down, he expected to hear quiet return to the forest. Instead, he heard screaming, human screaming.
Without hesitation, he and Francis brought their guns to bear and raced forward. The shot had only come from a few dozen yards ahead at most. Derek silently cursed himself as he ran. This situation was rapidly turning into a giant furry clusterfuck. The second that thing had started acting all squirrelly, he should have pulled back his team and done some more recon. Instead, they had charged blindly ahead, confident in their knowledge of a creature that nobody on Earth really had all that much knowledge about.
He had hoped to come out into a clearing and line up a clean shot at the squatch. It was wishful thinking, and he knew it. Instead, they both pushed their way past a thick bramble of bushes and ran almost straight into the arms of the enraged beast. Up this close, it was massive – a hairy locomotive on legs.
Both parties were surprised. Derek and Francis dove to the side, losing any possible shot they might have had. The creature, in turn, clumsily swung one of its massive arms at the two men, just barely missing them.
Derek managed to land in a dive-roll to put some distance between himself and the creature. Francis, however, was not so lucky. As he landed, his legs became tangled in the underbrush. He skidded to a halt, still within reach of the monster. Derek saw the creature in full as it turned toward his cameraman.
My God, what’s wrong with it? he asked himself as it reached a bloody claw toward his friend. Derek hated to waste ammo, but he didn’t have time both to save Francis and line up a clean kill. Still on the ground, he raised his rifle in the creature’s direction and squeezed the trigger.
He got lucky. A spray of blood erupted from the beast’s side. It grunted in pain and backed up a step. Derek had a moment to hope he had gotten a lung, but then he saw a flash of white from the bullet wound. Dammit! He had done little more than graze a rib. All he had done was tick it off.
“Frank, move it ... now!” he yelled, scrambling back to his feet.
His cameraman, not being stupid, rolled onto his back and brought his own gun to bear on the creature. In the close proximity, he didn’t have time to raise the barrel. He pulled the trigger, and a chunk of the creature’s right thigh exploded.
Gotcha, motherfucker! thought Derek as the massive beast lurched backwards. Unbelievably, though, it still refused to fall. He briefly wondered how in the hell it was still on its feet, though the question didn’t matter. All he cared about was that it not stay on its feet.
He raised his gun and took aim as the creature roared its defiance at them.
* * *
Danni at first had led Paula in a direction perpendicular to the one they had originally come. From there, she had zigged and zagged, hoping to make their trail as difficult to follow as possible. She knew deep down it was a futile effort. No human could hope to evade an active predator for long in its own habitat. Regardless, she owed it to herself to at least try.
She was more or less dragging Paula. The girl somehow managed to stay on her feet. She was too tired to do much more than pant and let out the occasional whimper of fear, but Danni considered that a small blessing. Less noise was a good thing for them.
She had begun to think it might be working. The creature’s cries hadn’t sounded any closer, and, if anything, seemed as if it might have turned in a different direction. Nevertheless, that seemed liked false hope to her. Their best bet was to keep running and hope for a break – maybe some rocks they could climb or a stream where they could further dilute their scent.
Danni was still weighing options in her mind when she heard the first shot. She stopped, and Paula nearly bowled her over.
“We have to keep...” she panted, near hysteria.
“Shh!” Danni commanded. “Quiet! Don’t you hear that?” Earlier, while running, she thought she had heard gunfire, but she had convinced herself that it was just wishful thinking. Now, there it was again. She didn’t dare to hope that maybe someone was shooting at that thing. Still, Allison thought she had seen poachers the night before. If there were people with guns out here, and they could find them, their chances might improve dramatically.
“I don’t hear anything. Danni, we need to keep running before that...”
Another shot filled the air. No mistaking it. Someone was shooting at something. It was hard to tell with the way sound bounced around in the forest, but Danni would have bet it had come from the direction they had run from.
“That’s gunfire,” she said to Paula. It took a second for it to sink in, but then, for the first time since the creature had appeared, something other than panic shown on the frightened girl’s face.
“Wild Feather and Harrison?” Paula asked hopefully.
“Not unless they were secretly packing heat. No, there’s someone else out here with us. Sinc
e they have bullets and we don’t, maybe we should try to find them.”
“No! It sounded like they were coming from where that monster is.”
“I know. I don’t like it either,” Danni replied. “But if we keep running this way, we’re going to lead it away from the hunters. I don’t know about you, but I can’t keep this pace up forever. If that thing is gonna catch us, I’d prefer it happen when we’re surrounded by plenty of hot lead.”
Paula seemed to weigh the options, although Danni knew what decision she would make. She had purposefully phrased her words that way. It was either facing a possible death in an attempt to save themselves or a definite death if they kept running. Finally, she nodded.
“Okay, good,” Danni said. “Let’s take this slow and careful, conserve our strength a bit. Eyes and ears open. If we run into that thing, we bolt like hell. If we find the hunters first ... well, let’s try to not get shot.”
* * *
Kate ran around the back of her house as quickly as she could. As she feared, though, her father was nowhere to be seen. She checked the back porch for more blood. Not seeing any, she let herself into the house.
“Dad!” she yelled. There was no response. A wave of panic began to spread inside of her as the silence stretched out.
Again she screamed for him, louder this time. She was considering where next to look when the door to his bedroom flew open and he stepped out.
“What the hell are you yelling about, Katey?” Richard Barrows asked in a grumpy voice.
Kate breathed a sigh of relief, then flung her arms around her father. “Dad! I was so worried. Why didn’t you answer?”
“Can’t a guy take a nap without everyone thinking he’s gone and dropped dead?” he joked as he disengaged from her and rubbed his eyes. “What’s the matter? It’s not like you to go around hollering and screaming like that.”
Kate forced herself to take a few deep breaths. Now that the excitement was over, she needed to think rationally again. “Sorry, Dad. There’s blood all over the front porch. I saw some footprints. I thought maybe you had hurt yourself.”
“Blood? That mutt of yours probably just caught himself a rabbit,” he said, turning toward the front of the house.
She followed as he made his way through the living room. “That’s the thing, Dad. I don’t know where Gus is.”
“I wouldn’t worry. He’ll be around soon as he gets hungry,” he replied, opening the door to investigate. He stepped outside and took a look around as Kate joined him. “Holy Christ. Make that a lot of rabbits. Looks like a slaughterhouse out here, Katey.”
“I know, Dad.”
“You piss off anybody down at the store?”
“What!?”
“You deny credit to someone? Maybe one of those Bachowski boys? Those Polacks are all a little off in the head.”
“That’s not nice, Dad. And no, I haven’t denied credit to anyone. It’s been a good week.”
“Not that good.” He looked around, then spotted the bloody footprints. “Who the hell made these?”
“I don’t know. I thought they were yours.”
“What would I be doing walking around barefoot, girl? Not to mention,” he said, putting one of his booted feet down next to a print, “last I checked, I wasn’t wearing size twenties.”
* * *
Pain flared everywhere: in his brain, his shoulder, and now in his side. That was nothing, though, compared to the fury that erupted from his leg. Back before the fever had taken his mind, he had known about the fire sticks. He did not have a name for them, but his race was well aware of the dangerous tools the two-legged things often used. Two-legged things that carried these fire sticks were to be avoided at all costs. Whatever they were, they were capable of killing without touching. One of his own could easily snap the neck of any animal it caught, but the two-legged things didn’t need to catch their prey. They could bring death from far away, even further than one of his kind could hurl a stone.
But that was before. The part of his mind that used to remember those things had begun to liquefy. Now all he knew was that his leg was in agony and he could no longer put his full weight on it. The two-legged things had wounded him badly, crippled him even. How could this be? Did they not realize this was his forest, that here he was supreme? He might be laid low from his wounds, might even eventually die from them; however, he would tear the two-legged things apart before he let that happen.
* * *
There was a second shot, and then, a few moments after, a third followed by a tremendous bellowing scream. The group all looked at one another for a few moments. None of them needed to be psychic to know what the others were thinking. With the first few shots, they had all been hoping that it was over. Now, with the advent of the roaring, they were all wondering just how badly they were screwed.
Even Mitchell was feeling a bit worried. Three shots, and it still wasn’t down? That was very unusual.
The battle was momentarily forgotten, though, as all of their attention was drawn to Phil. “Oh God! It killed them,” he said, starting to rise. “We need to get out of here!”
“Jesus Christ, dude...” Rob started, but Harrison held up a hand to silence him.
He put his other on Phil’s shoulder to try to calm him down again, but this time Phil swatted it off. He stood up and looked ready to bolt.
“Easy there, son,” Mitchell said, stepping in.
“Screw that!” Phil barked, his voice rising in both volume and pitch. “I’m not sticking around and waiting for that fucking thing to kill us all.”
“Listen, kid...” Mitchell replied, moving to block his potential escape.
Unfortunately, Phil had reached his breaking point and was beyond reason. He shoved Mitchell away. It wasn’t particularly forceful, but it caught the medic by surprise. He stumbled and went down.
It apparently surprised Phil, too. He stared at the downed man for a second before turning to run. Before he could bring his foot down for the first step, though, he was tackled from behind. His hesitation proved to be his undoing.
Harrison was at least twenty pounds heavier, and thus the smaller boy hit the ground. Unfortunately, Phil was in the grip of panic and proved difficult to subdue. He squirmed against Harrison and, as he did so, he started screaming at the top of his lungs. It was a desperate, keening wail with no discernable words.
Mitchell got back to his feet. “Shut him up!” he hissed through clenched teeth, although nobody was able to hear him over the pitiful screeching.
Finally, Harrison had enough. He let his frustration boil over. All thoughts of Phil’s deceit as Wild Feather and, even worse, his entreaties to get into Danni’s pants were concentrated into one swift, savage action. He drove his fist into Phil’s jaw with everything he had. The other boy’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he at last fell silent.
“Effective,” Mitchell noted with a tone of admiration in his voice. He started to thank Harrison before he was again drowned out – this time by something much louder than Phil.
* * *
Derek took aim with his Browning rifle while Frank struggled to his feet. The creature had backed up into a tree and was using it for support. “Come on, let’s make this count,” he said.
He aimed for the creature’s right eye, exhaled, and slowly pulled the trigger. Just as the necessary force to fire the gun was applied, a manic screeching filled the forest. Derek was an experienced outdoorsman, but he was still human. The sound, a high-pitched scream like a scared teenaged girl might make, caught his attention and threw his aim off just enough. The bullet grazed the creature’s head and sent a shower of bark flying as it impacted with a tree behind it.
“Frank!” he yelled as the creature lurched in their direction, using the nearby foliage to keep itself from falling. Damn, these things are smart ... too smart. It began to close the gap between them.
He turned his head to find that his cameraman h
ad regained his footing and was lining up a shot. Just as Frank pulled the trigger, the screaming abruptly ceased. Nothing but a dull click sounded in the renewed silence. The gun had jammed.
Oh yeah, that fucking figures.
There was no time left for a proper sighting. Derek brought up his rifle again and aimed as best he could at the creature’s center mass. It was nearly upon them when he started to squeeze the trigger again.
Chapter 15
Three shots rang out in quick succession. As their echoes faded, silence descended once more. Mitchell stood up from where he had been checking on Phil. The boy was still unconscious, but aside from a possible cracked jaw, he’d probably awake with little worse than a headache.
Harrison, still cradling his bruised fist, motioned for the rest to stay down as they waited to see what would happen next. Everyone did as told, except for Rob, who bounded over to Mitchell’s side.
“Did they get it?” he asked the older man.
“I hope so,” Mitchell replied. He then tapped his headset. “Derek, are you there? Come in.”
No reply came, so he tried again. He was about to do so for a third time when Francis stepped from the bushes, a somber look on his face. “Derek can’t answer you.”
There was a moment of stunned silence until he smiled. “Because he’s too busy checking out the big bastard we just nailed.”
Mitchell let out a sigh. “Asshole.”
Rob thought it was hilarious and a grin spread wide on his face as well. “All right! The Crypto Hunter lives to hunt again.”
“You had us worried there. We thought that thing killed you all,” Harrison said.
The smile fell off Francis’s face. “It almost did. That was one mean motherfucker, I tell you. Derek missed his shot ... oh, by the way, whichever one of you was screaming like a little girl, thanks a lot for that ... and then my damn gun jammed.”
“So, what happened?” Allison asked, regaining her feet.
“Derek unloaded in its chest with his last two rounds. Blew holes in it big enough to put your fist through.”
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