by Rivi Jacks
“Woke us up, the dogs a barkin’.” Deiter takes a sip from his coffee cup. “Thought it might be a bear.” He tips the front legs up on the chair he sits in, leaning back, hands placed over his belly. “Didn’t think too much ‘bout it until we heard a gawd-awful scream. Me and Bud” —he nods toward his son— “put some traps out the day before. Didn’t catch no bear.” He looks at me again. “We did catch somethin’ though.”
I glance at Sawyer.
“What did you catch?” Sawyer sits forward in his chair.
“Somethin’ strong enough it pulled that trap loose from the stake we anchored it into the ground with.”
“Why do you think it wasn’t a bear?” Sam asks.
Deiter pulls his gaze from me to look at Sam. “Cause it sprung itself from that trap. Ain’t no bear gonna do that. Left some flesh and plenty of blood, but it wasn’t a bear.”
I shudder.
“Probably a Kihn,” Sawyer says. “You haven’t lost any cattle?”
“No, but I ain’t the only one who’s had a disturbance in the last couple of weeks.” He leans forward until his chair legs meet the floor again. “My brother Daul’s boy and Bud here chased a couple of—well we’ve not figured out what they chased— away from Bracy’s mom’s place.” We all turn our gazes on Bud.
“What did they look like Bud?” Sam asks.
Bud straddles the chair he sits in, turned to sit backward to the table. “Big and ugly. Fast. Never could get a clear shot at ‘em. Took Granny’s big ol’ hog, Red Boy.”
“That old woman’s still cryin’ over that hog,” Deiter grunts. “We just about convinced ourselves that the boys must have seen a bear, but now we know different.” Deiter stands and fetches a bottle of what I presume is more of his home-brew. He offers me the bottle before filling his cup.
“No thanks.” I’ve barely touched what’s already in my cup. He passes the bottle on to Sawyer who pours a shot into his mug.
“They’ll be back, Deiter,” Sawyer says.
“We’ll be here,” Deiter responds.
“We need to get Taylor out here,” Sam says to Sawyer before addressing Deiter. “Deiter, you need to meet the—people I told you about.” I see Deiter give Sam an appraising look and I wonder what Sam has told him about Lucas and his men.
“I think that’s a good idea,” Deiter says slowly. “Me and my brothers are gonna booby trap the woods in this area, so it might be wise to be on the same page as your monster hunters.”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. I guess Sam has told him quite a bit.
“We all need to work together if we’re going to stand a chance—”
“Well now, Sawyer,” Deiter interrupts. “You know y’all are family and family helps family, but we’ll be stayin’ right here, takin’ care of our own.” Deiter has a whole pack of brothers, and those boys are not ones you want to mess with.
“Understood,” Sawyer says. “But you need to hear what Santiago and his Guard have to say.”
“Fair enuff.” Deiter nods.
“Sofie,” Sawyer tosses back what’s left in his mug, “you ready?”
“You’ns need to come some night soon, we’ll have a git-together.” Deiter looks pointedly at me. “You too, young Sofie. Bracy will be sorry she missed you.”
“I’m sorry I missed her. Please tell her hello for me.”
“Will do.”
Sam and Eli decide to take their leave too, with Deiter and Bud seeing us all out. The animals pay no mind this time as we head to the vehicles. While Sawyer talks to Sam, I ask Eli how married life is treating him. His smile lights up his face. He invites me over for dinner, and I tell him I’ll call Dawn to see which night is good.
As Sawyer climbs into the Jeep, he turns toward me. “It’s time to meet Purl. You still want to go?”
“Yeah.”
“You sure? Lucas might get pissed. Taylor didn’t sound too happy about you running around today.” Sawyer gives me a steady look.
“We’re just meeting up with Purl. Right?”
We head back toward town to old Soldier Cemetery discussing what we just learned at Deiter’s place. Sawyer says it’s a sure sign the Kihn are branching out, going farther afield for food. It seems a lot sooner than what Taylor and Nick first informed us about. I wonder if that means the Kihn have moved more of their people into our area.
Purl is getting out of his truck as we drive up.
“Why’d he want to meet out here?” I question, looking around. I remember Sawyer telling me that they’d found evidence of animal sacrifices being carried on out here.
“Let’s find out,” Sawyer says as he parks beside Purl’s truck.
As I reach to open the door, Sawyer takes hold of my arm. I look at him, and he shakes his head, rolling down his window.
“Hey, Purl.”
“Sawyer.” Purl bends down, looking in the window. “Sofie girl, it’s been a while.”
“Hey Purl, how are you?”
He grins. “I’m doin’ okay.”
“What’s up Purl?” Sawyer cuts to the chase, which suits me. I glance around the area. This has always been such a pretty, peaceful place, sitting on this hill above the river. Now it’s just—creepy.
“There’s been a lot of night activity out there, two nights now.” He spits a stream of tobacco juice, and I have to grit my teeth and look away.
“Who?” Sawyer asks.
“First night, those weird freaks, last night, humans.”
What?
“Anyone, we know?” Sawyer questions.
“Nope.”
“Not the law?” Sawyer reaches over and turns the heater fan down.
“Funny you should ask that.” Purl leans down to look in and glances at me again. “That was my impression.” Purl grins at me. “Sawyer, how’d you get such a beauty for a cousin?”
“Purl, why do you think they were lawmen,” Sawyer asks, trying to keep Purl on track.
“They just moved like they were law dogs.”
“What kind of vehicles did they have?” Sawyer asks. “Did you see?”
“Dark, unmarked cars.” Purl states.
“What was the law doing there at night?” Sawyer asks, more to himself than to Purl.
“They hauled stuff up from the cave.”
“What?” Sawyer gives me a quick glance.
“I’m thinkin’ we ought to take us a little look-see down there,” Purl says. “I’m ready to see up close what’s in that cave.” Purl straightens. “You in?”
“Have you been over there today?” Sawyer asks.
“Earlier. Nothin’ goin’ on. Night’s when it gets busy.”
I can practically see the wheels turning when Sawyer looks at me again.
“I am not, waiting in the Jeep,” I tell him firmly. No way am I going to sit in a vehicle by myself at that evil place ever again. But I’m not about to let Sawyer go out there by himself either. Purl doesn’t count.
“You know I don’t leave you behind,” Sawyer says with a grin.
“If we’re gonna get in and out of there before dark sets in, we better get a move on,” Purl says, looking in at me again. “I don’t wanna be there when the freaks or cops show, won’t be pretty either way.”
We decide that Purl will ride with us. While he fetches his shotgun, Sawyer pulls his from under the seat and retrieves a box of shells from the glove compartment.
“You take this,” he says, handing me the gun and the shells. “There are some of those Dragon’s Breath rounds in there; you might want to load those.”
He’s right I do. We step out of the Jeep, and Sawyer heads to the back, returning with his crossbow as I load the shotgun’s magazine tube with the pyrotechnic shells that make the shot
gun a mini flamethrower, and after loading my pockets with extra buckshot and more Dragon’s Breath, I’m loaded for bear.
Purl opens the back passenger door. “Let’s do this.”
The McNish land is no less horrendous in the light of day, with the gruesome presence of animal skulls and skeletons hanging from trees and stuck on posts. There’s more snow left on the ground here, giving everything a different macabre appearance than normal. Not that this farm has any kind of normal.
The place looks deserted as we park. I truly hope it is. I can’t help but remember the last time I was here, and that thought doesn’t do a thing for my nerves.
As we step out of the Jeep, I have a passing thought that Lucas would probably be pissed if he knew about me being here. Jake wouldn’t be too happy either. But it’s daylight, we’re well armed, and we’re not going to be here for long. Hopefully, no one will be the wiser about our little foray onto spooky farm.
We duck under the police tape that’s strung from tree to tree and walk toward the back of the house. Purl takes the lead on what is a well-trampled path down the hill toward the creek. I follow, feeling lucky that I make it down the hill without falling on the packed snow. There have been many feet traveling this way, packing the snow down to a hard, slick surface, and with the melt that’s been going on, Sawyer comments that it’s slicker than snot.
We reach the creek without any trouble and little talking. I stumble to a halt and raise my eyebrows in surprise when I see the cave opening. I was expecting a small entry, but that’s not what you get with this cave.
“Wow!” I whisper.
“Sawyer’s never brought you down here?” Purl asks.
I shake my head. I’ve never had much interest in exploring or spending any time on the McNish land.
Sawyer walks over to the bank of the creek, looking upstream and then back the other way. I walk over by him, noticing the snow trampled down all around in the area we stand.
“Are they walking up the creek?” I ask.
“The freaks came in canoes, night before last,” Purl informs us.
Canoes!
Sawyer looks puzzled by this info. “They knew they were going to be hauling—something—out of there,” he says softly, looking back toward the cave. He turns back to Purl. “You said the cops also hauled stuff out, right?”
“Some. In cardboard boxes.”
Sawyer takes off walking downstream along the creek bank. “They went downstream from here?”
“Yeah, they came from that direction too,” Purl says, looking at me. This is one of the reasons I’ve never felt comfortable around him—he stares.
As Sawyer continues walking along the bank, I follow. Our tracks are the only prints except for the occasional animal track.
“What do you think they were hauling out?” I ask, trying to walk in his footsteps.
“Something they didn’t want anyone to find.” He turns to give me a meaningful look. “Maybe bones.”
“Dog bones,” I state. The night we’d discovered the McNish missing that was one of the first things I’d noticed, the absence of the dogs. Sawyer said they had over twenty and I know he and Jake believe the Kihn ate them.
“No. Human bones, Sofie.”
I gape at him before swallowing hard. Okay. I think I’m ready to leave now. This is not the first time he’s expressed his concern over the McNish suffering the same fate as their dogs.
We walk a bit farther before Sawyer decides to turn around. When we get back to the cave, he says, “Let’s get inside and see if anything’s left.”
Purl takes the lead as Sawyer brings up the rear with me in the middle. They both have high-powered spotlights, and I carry one of Sawyer’s flashlights in my back pocket. Just inside the opening, we find a campfire, still slightly warm Sawyer says, after putting his hand over it and kicking some of the charred wood around.
I glance about. The back of my neck has a prickling sensation. “Sawyer,” I whisper, raising my shotgun in a readied position.
“Yeah,” he says in agreement.
We aren’t alone in the cave.
“Purl,” Sawyer says softly. “We need to leave.”
Purl has his gun in the crook of his arm at the ready, and he’s flashing his light toward the back of the cavern in the direction where I assume is the passageway to travel farther into the cave. He starts moving in that direction.
“Purl,” Sawyer says again in a quiet voice. “Not with my cousin here.”
I’m glad he didn’t say my name. I don’t know why that matters, but I suspect it might, just in case someone is near enough to hear.
A noise comes from farther back in the cave. It sounds as if someone is dragging something heavy. We start backing up. The sound triggers a memory, but before I can fully recall it, a creature like nothing I have ever seen comes into view.
It’s as big as a medium-sized dog, moving—sloth-like—on all fours. As if just realizing we’re here, it lifts its odd shaped head into the air, and without any warning, it suddenly charges us, covering the distance at an alarming rate.
Sawyer is to the right of me and out of the corner of my eye, I see him adjust his aim of the crossbow, and almost instantaneously, I hear the crack snap of the arrow being released.
There’s a high-pitched squeal, not dissimilar to the sound a pig makes, and the creature thrashes around in the dirt on the cave floor. Then it stops all movement.
“What the hell?” I exclaim as we stand looking down at it.
Its face is pointed, no snout, just pointed and it has long claws on its feet. The legs are long; all four bent opposite of how most animal legs bend. As it had moved toward us, it was almost as if it glided across the floor of the cave. It doesn’t have hair on its body, just wrinkled looking skin that appears to be a whitish yellow. And it stinks.
“Hot damn!” Purl shouts.
Sawyer squats by it, flashing his light across the creature’s body. Its claws look to be about four inches long, and I shudder at the thought of the damage those wicked looking talons might do.
“Do you think it was going to attack us or just running for its life?” I ask.
“I don’t know, but I didn’t want to wait to find out,” Sawyer says, looking up at me with a grin.
“Do you think maybe—there are more of them?” I ask, looking around uneasily. I am so ready to leave this place.
Something clamps onto the calf of my left leg. I scream and jump about four feet to my right and swing around with the shotgun up ready to blast.
Purl starts laughing hysterically. He thinks he’s funny, reaching down and grabbing my leg as he did.
I look at him first with disbelief, then at Sawyer.
“Purl, you stupid son-of-a-bitch!” Sawyer swears at him as he stands.
Purl is holding his stomach as he bends over, laughing. When he straightens, he has tears running down his face. “Ding dang, if that weren’t the funniest thing!”
“Yeah, that’s real funny, dumb shit! You’re lucky she didn’t shoot your ass,” Sawyer tells him with apparent disgust. “So much for not letting anyone know we’re here.”
“Hey, she’s the one who screamed.” He starts laughing again.
I turn and walk out of the cave. It’s getting late in the day, and we need to leave this place. Soon. I glance around the area and know I do not want to be here after the sun goes down. Been there, done that.
I walk back inside. “We need to go, the sun’s setting.” I look over at Purl, and he smiles.
What an ass.
Sawyer continues studying the creature. “Maybe I should at least pull my arrow out and not leave evidence behind,” he says as he bends down over the creature.
Don’t let him touch it, girl!
“No, Sawy
er!”
Startled, he looks at me.
“D-Don’t touch it, I don’t think we should touch it. Let’s just leave.” I know my voice sounds anxious and that’s how I feel. I need away from this place.
Sawyer shrugs and stands. “Let’s go.”
“I don’t know,” Purl replies, leaning over the carcass. “I’d kinda like to have it stuffed. Bet nobody else has anything like this.”
“I don’t think it should be touched.” I definitely know I don’t want to ride in the Jeep with it.
“Let’s get out of here,” Sawyer says, as he walks toward me. “Purl… you’re not hauling that nasty thing in my Jeep.”
Thank goodness.
We walk out of the cave and start up the hill in the dusk, moving at a nerve-racking pace. I want to sprint up the slope, but the slick, packed snow slows our retreat. Sawyer takes the lead this time with Purl bringing up the rear behind me. It’s a horrible feeling having that jackass at my back. He’s not the only thing making me nervous though as I send furtive glances toward the darkening woods around us.
We haven’t gone very far when the explosion roars over the top of the hill.
Chapter Eight
What the hell?
I hear Sawyer exclaim, “What the fuck?” as the three of us drop to the ground.
I glance over at Sawyer as he looks at me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I tell him, and then he’s running, slipping and sliding up the hill. I can see the black smoke as it plumes up into the darkening sky. I have a sick feeling about what exploded.
I’m a little slower getting over the rise, and I’m grateful that Purl has hung behind with me. I think. Once we clear the hill and can see Sawyer’s Jeep engulfed in flames, I know that sick feeling has been right on. Sawyer is standing quite a ways back, unable to get too close to the intense heat of the roaring flames. The Jeep is a goner, and I’m sure it isn’t from a faulty electrical system.