The Highway
From chapter 1:
Jeff started to lean over to her, capitalizing on an in-joke between the three with "That's spoken like a true..." until Rob, still holding up his alcohol offering, suddenly saw that the road ahead was blocked.
"LOOK OUT!!!" He screamed.
Chapter 2: A Dark Roadblock...
He instantly recalled all the horrible pictures he had seen of highway accidents, and the massive injuries sustained by their victims. One specific picture came to mind: a Jeep, of all things, had collided with an adult buck, and the passenger had been slightly impaled when one of its large horns had punctured the windshield like an icepick through thin plastic. Luckily, the horn had been stripped of most of its lesser branching spikes, and the wound had been relatively small. Unluckily, the other horn had gone over the top of the windshield frame and had plunged deep into the passenger's eye socket. Great image for a time like this, huh Robbie?
Before he could counter this thought, Jeff had reacted by jamming on the brakes. Rob, caught off-balance, dropped the Coronas, which then shattered on the pavement. Cassie actually caught a few droplets of Corona in her distorted, screaming mouth, as one bottle was merely shaken when colliding with the cardboard divider between the rest before it, too, met the asphalt. It had exploded with a splattery tinkling pop, its contents soaking the right rear tire instead of being thrown down, then back up by Rob.
Rob, still standing, still screaming, collided with the windshield at mid- thigh. He might have gone over the hood and under the front wheels, if not for Jeff's horrible realization that they weren't stopping fast enough. He turned the wheel hard to the left, gritting his teeth, and the overloaded, passenger-heavy Jeep threatened to roll. Rob was nearly folded double over the windshield when this new lateral movement saved him and threw him over the side. He would have hit the ground an instant after, were it not for his 'lucky' tropical shirt. He had gotten it when he and his parents had taken a trip to Hawaii. The shirt had started a personal lucky streak that had more or less continued until this very day. The right-hand corner of his shirt had caught on the corner of the windshield, giving Rob enough time to gain a handhold on the hood latch with his right hand, and to gain a foothold with his right foot. His left shoe dangled mere inches above the asphalt, but Rob quickly secured a place for it as well on the custom running board he himself had installed no more than a week before. Later on, he would thank his lucky shirt for this as well.
The Jeep was sliding almost exclusively on its right tires, squealing and screeching seemingly in pain. The sound of the screaming tires was almost masked by the screaming if the Jeep's rear passengers, as the vehicle was nearing a roll that would almost certainly kill Rob instantly. The Jeep was a mere eight feet away from the roadblock when friction finally took over and all momentum had been spent. The Jeep rocked back onto its left-side springs, jostling the passengers inside. Rob had a perilous grip on the hood latch to begin with, so this last little jitter had caused him to lose that grip and drop to the ground flat on his back, knocking the wind out of him. He had no time to evaluate this new development, because something behind the roadblock had shifted its attention from the large black fur- coated thing in the road to this fresh intruder. It leaped over the black thing, and would have snapped Rob's face right off him like a rubber mask, had he not been paying constant attention to the black mound of fur that had caused this event in the first place. Rob had rolled over onto his elbows, and was in good range to fend off the thing's attack with a good kick to the head. Thank God for soccer, huh? He had done this with a final scream of triumph and fright. His breathing was heavy and his eyes were wide. He was scanning the corpse of the large animal in front of him, searching for another attacker, when a hand gripped his left shoulder. He screamed again, and grabbed the hand, which he recognized as Cassie's. He jumped to his feet, taking inventory of his friends with the ragged, raw look of a man sent to the edge and back. That was where he was, after all. He struggled to catch his breath.
"Jeez, Rob! Are you all right? What in the blue hell was that?" inquired Tiko, asking the questions everyone had wanted to ask Rob at the same time. Tiko was kind of like that, intuitive and receptive to the surrounding vibes. Yeah, fat lot of good it did me back there, huh? he asked himself.
Rob couldn't speak yet, so he just shrugged his shoulders and looked over to the dead roadblock, as if trying to find an answer for himself as well.
Jeff had jumped over the driver's side door and had run over to his pal. Cici and Cassie soon followed. They chose to stand by the rear-mounted spare tire, cautiously putting Rob the Kicker between themselves and the dead thing that he had defeated. Cassie rubbed her leg on the tire, and felt the moisture of the beer spilled on it. She licked her lips absently, having a better idea of why she tasted beer. She rubbed her leg dry, her eyes never leaving Rob's.
"Rob! Rob!! ROB!" Jeff yelled, trying to get his attention. Rob turned his head back to Jeff, a little more calm but still quite frazzled. "Rob, are you ok?"
"Yeah, I think so... I just... saw something."
"You SAW something?! An understatement, now! Jeez, what was that? A dog or something?" Jeff's terror alert had gone down from Red to Orange, and his tone had reflected this. Rob would have been a Green or Blue by now, were it not for his unplanned exit from the vehicle. As it stood, his alert level was a nice, cozy Yellow.
"No, not really a dog. It didn't have any ears. It had teeth like a fricking Doberman, but no ears. I'm sure of it," he had rubbed the back of his head while saying this, as if trying to massage a more accurate memory out of his reeling head. "Did you see where it went? Did it run off or something?"
"No, it landed over there," Jeff exhaled, gesturing towards the 'head' of the dead thing in the road, where the attacker now lay. "Man, you really kicked it hard!"
"For some reason, it felt like that game with Anaheim last semester. Weird, huh?" Rob saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He jerked his head towards the place where the dog's body supposedly lay, instantly rising from Yellow to Orange. Cici and Cassie also glanced over. When he saw it was only Tiko, trying to figure out what the thing that wanted Rob's face as second course was, it thankfully sank back to Yellow again. Cici and Cassie turned their attention back to Rob, sharing a smile between themselves beforehand.
During the girls' exit and placement behind the Jeep, Tiko had made his way around the group of friends and over to the thing's corpse. Tiko was taking Veterinary courses, and was very interested in finding out if what Rob had said was right. If the thing had no ears, it probably would have had a hard time hearing anything else except the sound of its own eating if that was true. The argument made no sense to Tiko, though--a thing that voracious and quick would have to have the hearing of a tree monkey--but he was still determined to find out what species it was.
He had seen just its hind quarters, when he recognized it to not only have the teeth of a fricking Doberman, but the tail and hind legs like one as well. He was completely sure of its species as soon as he had seen the muzzle. It was a bit difficult to make out the details, but rest assured, it was indeed a Doberman. But that makes no sense, he thought. A Doberman is usually the prime animal for guarding or defending, but not for hunting. At least not in this suburban/highway/forest setting. And, most assuredly, a single Doberman would not be able to take down something this large, either.
He knelt beside the Doberman's corpse, and it was right then that Rob had turned his head towards the future Vet. Tiko had met his blazing eyes with an apologetic smile and a look that said sorry, tense moment, probably should have made more noise, then resumed his analysis. In the moonlight, things were blurry, but as he got closer to the head, he noticed a small, lumpy stream of blood trickling out of the Doberman's mouth. He leaned closer, almost within kissing distance, when he was then able to confirm that yes, indeed, it did not have any ears; they had been either ripped, bitten, or rotted off. The closer proximity told Tiko that the latter was probably true, as the animal smelled like a piece of blood-soaked, week-old hamburger, and looked fairly similar.
But that made no sense, either, he had told himself. Things didn't smell this badly after being dead all of fifteen seconds, and they surely did not bleed congealed blood. The lumpy texture of the blood dribbling from its mouth was consistent with the blood around the torn flesh where the ears used to be. He then realized that they had not rotted off, they were actually ripped off, and post-mortem, at that! He noticed that most of the lips and nose, even the left eye had been ripped off in similar fashion. His eyes then traveled down the dog's body, and noticed wounds consistent with its face. It looked like someone had taken two mad-vicious rakes and had made the dog run through the intertwined metal fingers at full speed. Reflecting back on the thought that dobies were used as urban bodyguards for such places as junkyards and the like, he thought that the wounds may have been caused by a wire-mesh fence, or a cage, or barbed-wire, or some similar form of containment. He also thought that it made sense that its reaction was slow; things that were dead usually had the reaction speed of a brick...
His thoughts trailed off when he took notice of the face of the thing in the road. His night-vision had kicked in, and he was confidently able to make out the species of the roadblock which had almost cost Rob his life.
Jeff was now standing to the right of the rear-mounted spare tire, trying to see if Cici was all right. Cassie was now sitting in the passenger's seat, and Rob was standing beside the passenger door, explaining how he was able to kick the dog as fast as he had.
"Yeah, I just kicked out of instinct. I had no time to..." admitted Rob, interrupted by the approach of a shaken Tiko. He had walked over to Rob's left side, and his look told them that he had news. Bad news, most likely, given the current hell-in-a-handbasket situation. Jeff's attention was all Tiko's. Rob was too shaken and alert to be anything but attentive and receptive to a new development. Cici actually wedged Jeff out of her way, taking her place on the Jeep's rear bumper.
"Hey, Tiko, what was that thing?" Cici nervously spouted as she sat.
Tiko was visibly confused, disturbed and deeply frightened at the same time. Through those feelings, his usual articulation and almost professorly diction had suffered slightly. In hushed tones, almost as if he were telling a campfire ghost story, he told them what he had seen.
"Rob, you were right. It had no ears. It is--was, at least--a Doberman. Your kick probably broke its neck..."
"Why did it attack him?" inquired Cici. Jeff thought this was funny, in a weird way. After all these years, she still had a level of care for Rob that would probably never go away. He didn't have to fight away the smile, though; the current situation did that much for him.
"I suppose it was defending its dinner. That's not the point. That thing..."
"Is it dead, Tiko?" Cassie interrupted. Tiko probably hated that about her; she would need to get her information first, and everything else would come later. He wasn't bothered now, though. He was simply glad that Rob had killed, er, stopped that thing before it could get anyone else in its sights. He turned to Cassie with a confused, apologetic, "sorry, babe, I don't have an answer for you" type of look. He did have an answer, though, it just wasn't a satisfying or conclusive one.
"Yes. Like I said, Rob, your kick broke its neck, but I think that it was dead before we even got here."
A round of surprised gasps and confusion swept the little group.
"How can you know that?" Rob questioned. He was the forensic student, not Tiko. Tiko had studied quite a bit of biology, and the answer came to him just as if he was studying trail-sniffing.
"Yeah, well, it had wounds that it received no earlier than an hour after its death, and it smells like it's been dead a week. No way was that thing alive when it attacked Rob. No way."
More confusion, but less gasps of surprise. The weight of the situation had almost fallen completely on them. And Tiko still had a half ton more of it to put on them.
"That's not all. It seems the dead Doberman was eating the thing in the middle of the road. The Doberman killed it, too. I know because there's a fresh, lethal slash-type wound on its..."
"Wait a minute. If it's dead, why would it be eating?" Jeff confusedly asked. A good question, Tiko thought. A very good one.
"I honestly don't know," he shrugged. "Probably for the same reason a dead dog would be out here in the first place," he gestured towards the city just below the gentle slope of the hill they currently sat on. It was no more than eight miles away.
"Well, what was the thing in the road? A deer? I know its got a lot of fur..." Rob nodded towards the roadblock. That it had fur and it was large was all he knew.
"Fur, yes. A deer, no. Like I said, the Doberman killed it by slashing its carotid artery--its animal equivalent anyway--and finished it off by tearing its guts open. The marks are really too deep for a dog..."
Everyone was almost strained by suspense. They had to know.
"What the hell is it already?" Jeff was usually the one who got to the point. The bottom line was all that mattered to Jeff, and his education in accounting was only honing that sensibility.
Ignoring this latest exasperated plea, though, Tiko continued on his own path towards the desired answer.
"...But the marks match the Doberman's claws exactly. There's fleshy remnants under the claws, and the wounds are consistent with that type of animal..."
It was Cassie again, but she was gentle and reasonable this time.
"Please, Tiko. We have to know what it is. Please."
This had gotten through to him. He was suddenly extremely grateful that she was all right. She was the greatest thing that had happened to him these past few months, and if anything could break his scientific concentration and bring him into the real world, it was Cassie. He smiled at her, wanting to kiss her, but he knew an answer was all she wanted--it was all everyone wanted, especially himself--right now.
"Ok, Cass. I'm sorry, guys. The thing in the road is, was, a bear."
Another wave of shock and silence ensued. Nothing in this forest, not even another bear, was usually strong enough to kill a bear, especially not some supposedly dead Doberman. On top of that, how had a bear, with its strength, toughness, and superior weaponry failed to stop a dead dog that had been kicked aside as easily as a, well, dead dog?
Their attention now turned slowly to the dead bear. They looked at it, wondering how in the world they had gotten into this situation. Suddenly, Cici gasped. Cassie put her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream brewing within her throat. The bear, supposedly dead and disemboweled, had moved its head towards them. They all watched in absolute terror as it rolled over, spilling the rest of its entrails out onto the highway. One long piece of smaller intestine splattered along the length of the lane divider in the middle of the asphalt, tinting the white paint a dark red that almost looked black in the moonlight. They stood there on the road, unbelieving as the bear stood up on its haunches and raised its arms, emptying the remainder of its thoracic contents as it did so. It tried to roar, but its position lying on the road had tweaked its throat so that it sounded as if the bear had a severe case of bronchitis.
A funny thought pounced into Rob's head at the moment following the bear's attempt at a roar; I can kill a dog that can apparently kill something like you, Mr. Pooh Bear, but I'm not sure I can do you the same favor! Soccer would not help him in this situation. Lucky shirt or not.
Somewhere, no more than five miles from where they stood, a massive explosion lit the sky and echoed like thunder throughout the hills.
Alrighty! Now THAT was Resident Evil! Wasn't it? Hello? lol. Anyway, new chapters are imminent, so R&R!
From chapter 1:
Jeff started to lean over to her, capitalizing on an in-joke between the three with "That's spoken like a true..." until Rob, still holding up his alcohol offering, suddenly saw that the road ahead was blocked.
"LOOK OUT!!!" He screamed.
Chapter 2: A Dark Roadblock...
He instantly recalled all the horrible pictures he had seen of highway accidents, and the massive injuries sustained by their victims. One specific picture came to mind: a Jeep, of all things, had collided with an adult buck, and the passenger had been slightly impaled when one of its large horns had punctured the windshield like an icepick through thin plastic. Luckily, the horn had been stripped of most of its lesser branching spikes, and the wound had been relatively small. Unluckily, the other horn had gone over the top of the windshield frame and had plunged deep into the passenger's eye socket. Great image for a time like this, huh Robbie?
Before he could counter this thought, Jeff had reacted by jamming on the brakes. Rob, caught off-balance, dropped the Coronas, which then shattered on the pavement. Cassie actually caught a few droplets of Corona in her distorted, screaming mouth, as one bottle was merely shaken when colliding with the cardboard divider between the rest before it, too, met the asphalt. It had exploded with a splattery tinkling pop, its contents soaking the right rear tire instead of being thrown down, then back up by Rob.
Rob, still standing, still screaming, collided with the windshield at mid- thigh. He might have gone over the hood and under the front wheels, if not for Jeff's horrible realization that they weren't stopping fast enough. He turned the wheel hard to the left, gritting his teeth, and the overloaded, passenger-heavy Jeep threatened to roll. Rob was nearly folded double over the windshield when this new lateral movement saved him and threw him over the side. He would have hit the ground an instant after, were it not for his 'lucky' tropical shirt. He had gotten it when he and his parents had taken a trip to Hawaii. The shirt had started a personal lucky streak that had more or less continued until this very day. The right-hand corner of his shirt had caught on the corner of the windshield, giving Rob enough time to gain a handhold on the hood latch with his right hand, and to gain a foothold with his right foot. His left shoe dangled mere inches above the asphalt, but Rob quickly secured a place for it as well on the custom running board he himself had installed no more than a week before. Later on, he would thank his lucky shirt for this as well.
The Jeep was sliding almost exclusively on its right tires, squealing and screeching seemingly in pain. The sound of the screaming tires was almost masked by the screaming if the Jeep's rear passengers, as the vehicle was nearing a roll that would almost certainly kill Rob instantly. The Jeep was a mere eight feet away from the roadblock when friction finally took over and all momentum had been spent. The Jeep rocked back onto its left-side springs, jostling the passengers inside. Rob had a perilous grip on the hood latch to begin with, so this last little jitter had caused him to lose that grip and drop to the ground flat on his back, knocking the wind out of him. He had no time to evaluate this new development, because something behind the roadblock had shifted its attention from the large black fur- coated thing in the road to this fresh intruder. It leaped over the black thing, and would have snapped Rob's face right off him like a rubber mask, had he not been paying constant attention to the black mound of fur that had caused this event in the first place. Rob had rolled over onto his elbows, and was in good range to fend off the thing's attack with a good kick to the head. Thank God for soccer, huh? He had done this with a final scream of triumph and fright. His breathing was heavy and his eyes were wide. He was scanning the corpse of the large animal in front of him, searching for another attacker, when a hand gripped his left shoulder. He screamed again, and grabbed the hand, which he recognized as Cassie's. He jumped to his feet, taking inventory of his friends with the ragged, raw look of a man sent to the edge and back. That was where he was, after all. He struggled to catch his breath.
"Jeez, Rob! Are you all right? What in the blue hell was that?" inquired Tiko, asking the questions everyone had wanted to ask Rob at the same time. Tiko was kind of like that, intuitive and receptive to the surrounding vibes. Yeah, fat lot of good it did me back there, huh? he asked himself.
Rob couldn't speak yet, so he just shrugged his shoulders and looked over to the dead roadblock, as if trying to find an answer for himself as well.
Jeff had jumped over the driver's side door and had run over to his pal. Cici and Cassie soon followed. They chose to stand by the rear-mounted spare tire, cautiously putting Rob the Kicker between themselves and the dead thing that he had defeated. Cassie rubbed her leg on the tire, and felt the moisture of the beer spilled on it. She licked her lips absently, having a better idea of why she tasted beer. She rubbed her leg dry, her eyes never leaving Rob's.
"Rob! Rob!! ROB!" Jeff yelled, trying to get his attention. Rob turned his head back to Jeff, a little more calm but still quite frazzled. "Rob, are you ok?"
"Yeah, I think so... I just... saw something."
"You SAW something?! An understatement, now! Jeez, what was that? A dog or something?" Jeff's terror alert had gone down from Red to Orange, and his tone had reflected this. Rob would have been a Green or Blue by now, were it not for his unplanned exit from the vehicle. As it stood, his alert level was a nice, cozy Yellow.
"No, not really a dog. It didn't have any ears. It had teeth like a fricking Doberman, but no ears. I'm sure of it," he had rubbed the back of his head while saying this, as if trying to massage a more accurate memory out of his reeling head. "Did you see where it went? Did it run off or something?"
"No, it landed over there," Jeff exhaled, gesturing towards the 'head' of the dead thing in the road, where the attacker now lay. "Man, you really kicked it hard!"
"For some reason, it felt like that game with Anaheim last semester. Weird, huh?" Rob saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He jerked his head towards the place where the dog's body supposedly lay, instantly rising from Yellow to Orange. Cici and Cassie also glanced over. When he saw it was only Tiko, trying to figure out what the thing that wanted Rob's face as second course was, it thankfully sank back to Yellow again. Cici and Cassie turned their attention back to Rob, sharing a smile between themselves beforehand.
During the girls' exit and placement behind the Jeep, Tiko had made his way around the group of friends and over to the thing's corpse. Tiko was taking Veterinary courses, and was very interested in finding out if what Rob had said was right. If the thing had no ears, it probably would have had a hard time hearing anything else except the sound of its own eating if that was true. The argument made no sense to Tiko, though--a thing that voracious and quick would have to have the hearing of a tree monkey--but he was still determined to find out what species it was.
He had seen just its hind quarters, when he recognized it to not only have the teeth of a fricking Doberman, but the tail and hind legs like one as well. He was completely sure of its species as soon as he had seen the muzzle. It was a bit difficult to make out the details, but rest assured, it was indeed a Doberman. But that makes no sense, he thought. A Doberman is usually the prime animal for guarding or defending, but not for hunting. At least not in this suburban/highway/forest setting. And, most assuredly, a single Doberman would not be able to take down something this large, either.
He knelt beside the Doberman's corpse, and it was right then that Rob had turned his head towards the future Vet. Tiko had met his blazing eyes with an apologetic smile and a look that said sorry, tense moment, probably should have made more noise, then resumed his analysis. In the moonlight, things were blurry, but as he got closer to the head, he noticed a small, lumpy stream of blood trickling out of the Doberman's mouth. He leaned closer, almost within kissing distance, when he was then able to confirm that yes, indeed, it did not have any ears; they had been either ripped, bitten, or rotted off. The closer proximity told Tiko that the latter was probably true, as the animal smelled like a piece of blood-soaked, week-old hamburger, and looked fairly similar.
But that made no sense, either, he had told himself. Things didn't smell this badly after being dead all of fifteen seconds, and they surely did not bleed congealed blood. The lumpy texture of the blood dribbling from its mouth was consistent with the blood around the torn flesh where the ears used to be. He then realized that they had not rotted off, they were actually ripped off, and post-mortem, at that! He noticed that most of the lips and nose, even the left eye had been ripped off in similar fashion. His eyes then traveled down the dog's body, and noticed wounds consistent with its face. It looked like someone had taken two mad-vicious rakes and had made the dog run through the intertwined metal fingers at full speed. Reflecting back on the thought that dobies were used as urban bodyguards for such places as junkyards and the like, he thought that the wounds may have been caused by a wire-mesh fence, or a cage, or barbed-wire, or some similar form of containment. He also thought that it made sense that its reaction was slow; things that were dead usually had the reaction speed of a brick...
His thoughts trailed off when he took notice of the face of the thing in the road. His night-vision had kicked in, and he was confidently able to make out the species of the roadblock which had almost cost Rob his life.
Jeff was now standing to the right of the rear-mounted spare tire, trying to see if Cici was all right. Cassie was now sitting in the passenger's seat, and Rob was standing beside the passenger door, explaining how he was able to kick the dog as fast as he had.
"Yeah, I just kicked out of instinct. I had no time to..." admitted Rob, interrupted by the approach of a shaken Tiko. He had walked over to Rob's left side, and his look told them that he had news. Bad news, most likely, given the current hell-in-a-handbasket situation. Jeff's attention was all Tiko's. Rob was too shaken and alert to be anything but attentive and receptive to a new development. Cici actually wedged Jeff out of her way, taking her place on the Jeep's rear bumper.
"Hey, Tiko, what was that thing?" Cici nervously spouted as she sat.
Tiko was visibly confused, disturbed and deeply frightened at the same time. Through those feelings, his usual articulation and almost professorly diction had suffered slightly. In hushed tones, almost as if he were telling a campfire ghost story, he told them what he had seen.
"Rob, you were right. It had no ears. It is--was, at least--a Doberman. Your kick probably broke its neck..."
"Why did it attack him?" inquired Cici. Jeff thought this was funny, in a weird way. After all these years, she still had a level of care for Rob that would probably never go away. He didn't have to fight away the smile, though; the current situation did that much for him.
"I suppose it was defending its dinner. That's not the point. That thing..."
"Is it dead, Tiko?" Cassie interrupted. Tiko probably hated that about her; she would need to get her information first, and everything else would come later. He wasn't bothered now, though. He was simply glad that Rob had killed, er, stopped that thing before it could get anyone else in its sights. He turned to Cassie with a confused, apologetic, "sorry, babe, I don't have an answer for you" type of look. He did have an answer, though, it just wasn't a satisfying or conclusive one.
"Yes. Like I said, Rob, your kick broke its neck, but I think that it was dead before we even got here."
A round of surprised gasps and confusion swept the little group.
"How can you know that?" Rob questioned. He was the forensic student, not Tiko. Tiko had studied quite a bit of biology, and the answer came to him just as if he was studying trail-sniffing.
"Yeah, well, it had wounds that it received no earlier than an hour after its death, and it smells like it's been dead a week. No way was that thing alive when it attacked Rob. No way."
More confusion, but less gasps of surprise. The weight of the situation had almost fallen completely on them. And Tiko still had a half ton more of it to put on them.
"That's not all. It seems the dead Doberman was eating the thing in the middle of the road. The Doberman killed it, too. I know because there's a fresh, lethal slash-type wound on its..."
"Wait a minute. If it's dead, why would it be eating?" Jeff confusedly asked. A good question, Tiko thought. A very good one.
"I honestly don't know," he shrugged. "Probably for the same reason a dead dog would be out here in the first place," he gestured towards the city just below the gentle slope of the hill they currently sat on. It was no more than eight miles away.
"Well, what was the thing in the road? A deer? I know its got a lot of fur..." Rob nodded towards the roadblock. That it had fur and it was large was all he knew.
"Fur, yes. A deer, no. Like I said, the Doberman killed it by slashing its carotid artery--its animal equivalent anyway--and finished it off by tearing its guts open. The marks are really too deep for a dog..."
Everyone was almost strained by suspense. They had to know.
"What the hell is it already?" Jeff was usually the one who got to the point. The bottom line was all that mattered to Jeff, and his education in accounting was only honing that sensibility.
Ignoring this latest exasperated plea, though, Tiko continued on his own path towards the desired answer.
"...But the marks match the Doberman's claws exactly. There's fleshy remnants under the claws, and the wounds are consistent with that type of animal..."
It was Cassie again, but she was gentle and reasonable this time.
"Please, Tiko. We have to know what it is. Please."
This had gotten through to him. He was suddenly extremely grateful that she was all right. She was the greatest thing that had happened to him these past few months, and if anything could break his scientific concentration and bring him into the real world, it was Cassie. He smiled at her, wanting to kiss her, but he knew an answer was all she wanted--it was all everyone wanted, especially himself--right now.
"Ok, Cass. I'm sorry, guys. The thing in the road is, was, a bear."
Another wave of shock and silence ensued. Nothing in this forest, not even another bear, was usually strong enough to kill a bear, especially not some supposedly dead Doberman. On top of that, how had a bear, with its strength, toughness, and superior weaponry failed to stop a dead dog that had been kicked aside as easily as a, well, dead dog?
Their attention now turned slowly to the dead bear. They looked at it, wondering how in the world they had gotten into this situation. Suddenly, Cici gasped. Cassie put her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream brewing within her throat. The bear, supposedly dead and disemboweled, had moved its head towards them. They all watched in absolute terror as it rolled over, spilling the rest of its entrails out onto the highway. One long piece of smaller intestine splattered along the length of the lane divider in the middle of the asphalt, tinting the white paint a dark red that almost looked black in the moonlight. They stood there on the road, unbelieving as the bear stood up on its haunches and raised its arms, emptying the remainder of its thoracic contents as it did so. It tried to roar, but its position lying on the road had tweaked its throat so that it sounded as if the bear had a severe case of bronchitis.
A funny thought pounced into Rob's head at the moment following the bear's attempt at a roar; I can kill a dog that can apparently kill something like you, Mr. Pooh Bear, but I'm not sure I can do you the same favor! Soccer would not help him in this situation. Lucky shirt or not.
Somewhere, no more than five miles from where they stood, a massive explosion lit the sky and echoed like thunder throughout the hills.
Alrighty! Now THAT was Resident Evil! Wasn't it? Hello? lol. Anyway, new chapters are imminent, so R&R!