Autumn's Ravage

by Phil Armstrong

Paul and Brian stumbled outside into the parking lot enveloped by the crisp cold evening air, they looked at each other and burst out laughing, “You’re a complete fool Paul! You can’t tell me that you didn’t see the size of that bloke in there?” To accentuate the point, Brian pointed to the diner’s door, his hand still visibly shaking.

  “He was big wasn’t he?” Paul doubled over in laughter, relieved to be out of the fray. “Sheriff Jones, my Uncle Kevin, what a disaster; absolutely useless that drunken fool. Kind of blown it with Kelly now though. What do you reckon?”

  Brian stopped laughing, “You best leave well alone mate, and I don't think she’s into you except for those large tips you’ve been leaving. Listen, here’s what we’ll do, the night’s a bust now, and I think you should stay out of the Uncle’s way for a bit. He was not pleased with you pulling that knife, and we don't want to run into that big guy any time soon. I picked up a case of beer this morning and it’s still sitting in my truck. I have my tent and a couple of sleeping bags, in fact, I have my camping gear stowed in my truck from the fishing trip last weekend - how about we drive up to Archers Point, hike up to the river, and pitch the tent on the bluff. We can start a fire, cook up some beans, and drink some beers. I think it best if we lay low for a while, and let this thing blow over - what do you say?”

  “Sounds good. They took my hunting knife - what have you got in the truck?”

  I have my hunting knife on me and there’s a camping knife and a couple of rifles with some ammo in the truck - we should be fine. I have a couple of large backpacks and supplies left over from the fishing trip, we have enough food, and we’ll start a fire. You’re in deep trouble and Uncle Kevin will need some time to cool off and sober up.”

  “Cool off - yes, I wouldn't hold onto much hope for the sobering up part - you’re right, let’s go, it’s pretty damn dark; if we’re lucky, we’ll get a high moon.”

  The two boys walked towards their truck before commencing their journey further north. Brian had grown up in the Village of Autumn, and he knew the back roads like the back of his hand. Brian used to travel these routes with his Father, who regularly took him hunting and fishing, so he was very familiar with the route to Archers Point; he’d been there less than two weeks ago.

  Archers Point offered a great place to safely park the truck near a roadside rest stop, from there, a simple fifteen-minute walk into the woods following an established trail, would lead them directly to the bluff. The bluff was a mile long outcrop of rock overlooking a spectacular scene of trees and forest stretching out below them, with the rapids of the Gernado River far below. It was a quiet peaceful place where tourists didn't venture and hunters wouldn't go. Only the locals knew of this place, and it was far more popular in the summer months, at this time of year, nobody would be partying at the bluff. This would make it a perfect hideaway place for a few days to let the tension die down. Brian hated the city and despised the village, he loved the woods, and for him, this is the place where he felt the most comfortable. He loved being outdoors where he was fully trained in survival techniques. Brian knew the terrain well, the weather, the animals, and the dangers associated with staying in the woods.

  Back at the diner, the stranger had completed his meal - he caught the attention of Kelly and motioned for the bill with a writing gesture. Kelly rang up his meal and delivered the itemized bill with haste and a renewed respect. The stranger reached into his pockets and pulled out some money, he folded some crumpled notes into a pile, taking care to ensure that he left a reasonable tip. He placed the money on top of the paper bill while reaching for the glass saltshaker, which he used as a weight to keep the bills anchored. He stood to retrieve his long black coat, as he pulled on his trench coat his eyes came to rest upon the old Indian Chief - Great Bear. Great Bear’s expression never changed, but he’d been curiously watching the tall stranger since he’d walked in. The stranger smiled and nodded his head as a mark of respect to the old man, before heading for the door. Before entering the diner he’d noticed a hotel sign located a couple of streets away, he needed a room and a good nights sleep.

  The truck’s headlights struggled to illuminate the last part of the journey to Archers Point; the darkness came quickly as the boys passed the Native Indian lookout point and parked against a rock face out of sight from the road. Brian organized the backpacks ensuring they contained the necessary survival supplies. The sun’s light had been completely consumed by darkness with the sky covered in a heavy blanket of clouds and freezing cold air. The boys were dressed in waterproof mountain gear, sturdy boots, wool hats, insulated jackets with hoods, carrying large backpacks with sleeping bags, a tent, rope, lighters, and other survival gear.

  “You ready?” said Brian, shining his flashlight into Paul’s face.

  Paul pushed the bright beam away, “Yes, did I tell you it’s really cold?”

  Brian smiled, “Yup.”

  “Well it is. Don't know why I let you talk me into this hair brained idea!”

  “Cos some idiot went and pulled a knife on a guy that was three times his size, and do you know why you did that? Cos you weren’t thinking with your head, you were thinking with another body part, and to make matters worse, you decided to do this in front of Uncle Sheriff! Maybe that’s why we’re here, freezing our butts off. You’re welcome, now take the rifle and place it over your shoulder, don't worry it’s not loaded. I have rounds in my backpack if we need them, and mine’s not loaded either,” a small lie Brian had to tell. “Now come on, let’s get going before it gets too late, I want to get a good nights sleep, and not freeze my butt completely off.”

  It wasn’t long before the gushing noise of the river signaled their arrival on the stone bluff. Brian started to take over, “This is the best place to make camp, but we have to get a fire going soon and start to get some warmth in our bones, plus it will keep any curious critters that we don't feel like entertaining away. I’ll pitch the tent; leave the backpack and rifle here, take your flashlight, and go to the fringe of the tree line over there - Brian pointed to the clearing. Find some dry wood, like branches, limbs and large twigs, should do nicely. Gather as much as you can and bring them back here OK? I’ll get the fire going but then you’ll have to gather some more wood, until I tell you to stop. We’ll need enough to see us through the night.”

  Paul nodded, but he wasn’t in the mood to argue for he knew Brian was an expert at this stuff, and he followed his instructions without complaint. The night air was still cold and his gloved fingers were starting to smart. He used his flashlight and managed to gather a few decent sized branches, and a fair amount of wood. When he returned, Brian had a light stand erected and was completing the tent. Brian had worked quickly like an animal totally at ease in the wilderness; Paul let the branches fall to the ground and looked at Brian for approval. “Yes, this is good. I’m going to need about three more loads of this size ok?”

  Brian nodded and trudged off in search of more wood. When he returned, Brian had completed the erection of the tent and a lantern was lit inside illuminating the area in front of the tent. Paul could hear the rushing water of the river below as Brian nodded his head. For a moment, Brian was impressed with his friend’s foraging skills; he was stooped over the pile of wood as he lit the brush, dried moss, and ferns used to ignite the makeshift fire. Paul dropped his second load and scurried off to find more wood. When he returned for the final time, the pungent smell of crackling, burning, wood assaulted his nostrils in the most delightful way. The soft warm glow of the fire pierced the brutally cold air of the night. Paul moved closer, dropping the wood on the pile he’d previously gathered.

  “Can’t beat a good fire,” said Brian, rubbing his hands together to accept the warmth. Brian had camped here before; the fire was surrounded by a group of large rocks, and he’d placed stones within the hearth to retain the heat as the night wore on. Two rounded boulders were close to the fire’s hearth, “Come, sit, this is the best way to get warm.” Brian pointed to
a dark rounded stone elevated from the damp ground.

  Brian let out a sigh of satisfaction, “Ahhhhh,” he looked up at the night’s sky, the clouds had moved away now revealing a clear sky full of brilliant stars. Cold nights delivered the clearest skies and the best views of the celestial heavens. This night offered a high moon, which cast its brilliant blue light onto the bluff. This far north, the heavens were clear, not hampered by the light pollution spewing from large cities. “So,” said Brian inquisitively, “perhaps you can tell me what you were going to do with that knife, and that monster of a man back there?”

  His words hung in the crisp night air, suspended only by the tension in his voice. Their eyes met across the flickering fire before they both burst into raucous laughter. “Yup, pretty stupid eh.”

  “The art of love is largely the art of persistence,” Brian quoted as he threw a can of beer at his friend.

  Paul caught it, snapped the pull ring open and took a much-needed gulp, “Don't get all fancy with me, we know which one of us has the brains, that’s pretty obvious. I know I acted stupid in front of Kelly, and I know I was jealous.” Paul thought about his own words. He knew what he had felt, and he couldn’t figure out a way to elegantly defend his actions.

  “I’m not even going to waste my time on that one, you’ve totally fancied her since you were both eight years old, but you know she plays you like a puppy; trouble is, I can’t figure out if she really likes you or not. With you it’s obvious.” Brian leaned back pausing to take a long drink from his silver can of beer. The fire’s heat felt so good warming his frozen face.

  Brian was always the smart one at school, and Paul couldn’t understand why he hadn’t used his talents and his good grades to head for a successful career in the city. “Yes, I was trying to be persistent like you suggested.”

  “Then you admit it - you’re an idiot around this girl,” Brian smiled, and swigged from his can.

  “You win, you’ve successfully proven that I like women and that one in particular, and what about you my fine educated friend? You don't seem to talk much about who you fancy.” Paul provoked a reaction.

  “Come on Paul, there’s not much to chase in Autumn.”

  “There’s gotta be someone.”

  “Yeah right, like I’m going to tell you, so you can rush in like a bull in a china shop and help me.”

  Paul tipped the rim of the can of beer to his lips, “No, come on now, tell me straight up, and I swear I won’t interfere or help.” Paul crossed his heart with his near empty beer can. Brian drank the last of the contents from his can and walked over to the tent, he opened the canvas flap and retrieved another can. He carefully stored the empty can inside the tent and walked back to the warmth of the fire. Paul stared at the dancing flames and watched the embers rise, flicker like a firefly, and extinguish in the cold night air. Raising his eyes to meet Brian’s, Paul tried to look serious, “The suspense is killing me!” moaned Paul.

  Brian fumbled with the pull ring located on the top of the can, with cold fingers he managed to open the can, and listened to the noise of the pressurized air escaping. He took a large gulp of the frothy beer and summoned up enough courage to speak, “Jenny Aldridge from the garage on Main Street. There, I’ve said it now, it’s out, fancied her for years, and never had the guts to tell her.” Brian looked down at his muddied boots and waited for the laughter to commence.

  Paul leaned inwards towards the fire’s welcoming warmth and watched the dancing flames, “Wow, Jenny.” Brian stared intensely at Paul waiting for some stupid remark. Paul could see the serious look of conviction etched onto Brian’s face. Paul smiled at his friend, he realized that it took real courage and trust, for him to make that statement, and declare his interest, “Jenny’s really cute, good call man, a nice all round package. She’s got brains, class, beauty, and a rocking body. You’ve got to tell her man!”

  The two friends talked into the night until Brian could hardly keep awake, “I’m naffed, I’m going over there to take a leak, and then I’m turning in.”

  “Yeah me too.”

  Brian wobbled over to the edge of the woods and relieved himself. Unsteady upon his feet with his senses suitably dulled from the beer, he thought he saw a subtle shift in the shadows deep within the woods in front of him. He blinked and the darkened scene in front of him looked normal again. He’d thought he’d seen something moving, but it wasn't accompanied by any sound. He shook his head to clear the beer induced fog, zipped up his pants, and headed back to the fire.

  Paul was finishing his last can of beer; he followed suit heading to the edge of the bluff intent on peeing over the edge into the rapids of the rushing river below. “Paul no; don't do that, trust me. Go where I went.” Paul gave him a puzzled look. “If you pee down the bluff you’ll scent the entire rock face with an unfamiliar scent. Animals scent their territory around here and the rapids below offer a great fishing ground. The bears come here and they’ll smell your beer-loaded pee from a mile away, we don’t need any unwelcome visitors tonight.” Paul nodded begrudgingly, he needed to pee so badly but he walked to the forest’s edge, and smirked at how clever his friend was. Brian offered one more insight, “Besides, you’re so stupidly drunk, you’d slip on your own pee and roll right over the edge,” he was laughing at his own joke.

  Brian began to stow the guns and bags inside the tent in an orderly manner, he turned his back to the clearing, as he stacked the fire with enough wood to see them through until morning.

  Paul unzipped his pants and began to relieve himself, for a split second he thought he saw something move in the forest ahead of him. It was so fast and fleeting, like he never saw anything, perhaps it was a trick of the light. Was it a shadow passing through the woods? His foggy alcohol saturated brain struggled to explain the changing density of the light, he couldn’t make sense of what he thought he’d seen. Paul blinked his eyes, perhaps that would bring into focus the movement; he needed to re-adjust his senses. The moment he blinked his eyes, a large dark mass lunged forward slashing his defenseless body with enormous power, catching him totally unaware. Paul had no time to react, his senses screamed at his body to defend himself. His head was immediately severed from the powerful blow with his chest brutally savaged splattering his blood onto the trunks of nearby trees. The ferocity of the razor like blow meant Paul could not make any sound to warn his friend. As Paul’s body dropped to the ground it made a sound, causing Brian to turn and look over his shoulder, he laughed at his clumsy drunken friend. Thinking his intoxicated friend had stumbled, he turned his head more to see large razor sharp claws strike his face and ravage his vulnerable body. He shouted a loud chilling scream, it would be the last sound he would ever make, but the forest was empty, and his final lament was short, and went unheard. The forest animals had panicked, for they’d long since moved away fearing the strange scent permeating their home. A pack of wolves had already crept silently to the safer lower valley, led by their cautious leader; the bears fearing no creature in the forest, had hid in their caves, or followed the banks of the river to safer territory. No animals heard Brian’s chilling scream, their normal curiosity had long since been overridden by their fear, when their sensitive nostrils had identified the strange scent of an unwelcome predator.

  The moon was now high and the crisp, cold air swirled in the eerie silence, the wind had died down and the forest was still. A mighty primal roar echoed through the woods, it came from the top of the bluff, but no one heard it and no creature dared to respond.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 3: Suspicious Minds.

  The Village of Autumn, The Mine District, The Fourth Realm.

  "Suspicion is a heavy armor, and with its weight, it impedes more than it protects.”