BEWARE THE MOON
By FAH3
TwO:
The fall winds that were blowing through the sparse trees and tombstones of the graveyard added a slight chill and bite to the already dreadful and bitter morning for all those gathered around the open grave. A simple mahogany coffin sat above the freshly dug six foot hole as those gathered more for its sole occupant. Everyone there were dressed in black from head to toe as they kept their heads bowed in mourning and prayer while the preacher gave his sermon. John stood to Miriam's left while Mankey stood to her right, almost as close to her as John was. However, it was John's hand that she held tightly in his as her tears fell and struggled to keep every sob silent. John gazed at his surroundings and saw what must have been almost half the town had come to pay their final farewells to Miriam's cousin Jocelyn. John sighed to himself and muttered a small prayer his mother had taught him in Hebrew and hoped that in some way, if the afterlife exists, that it gave the poor girl's soul some form of rest and comfort.
As the preacher finished his words, a chorus of quiet and solemn "amen" followed along with a moment of silence. Timothy Possible, or Slim as he was known, walked forwards and placed a single long stem rose on the coffin lid. He than placed his hand on top of the coffin as he closed his eyes tightly and used every ounce of will power in his being not to break down. He took several deep breaths before lifting his hand away as it balled into a fist and stepped back into the crowd. The coffin was slowly lowered into the ground as Slim knelt down and picked up a hand of fresh dirt and sprinkled it over the coffin as it was lowered. As Slim walked backwards into the throng of mourners, people began to step forward and drop a rose of their own into the hole and onto the coffin. As John watched Mim step forward and let go of his hand, he couldn't help but feel his own heart ache for her as she dropped her rose into the grave and followed with a simple blown kiss. Ron tore his eyes away from his friend and saw the gravestone that had been placed for Slim's daughter. It was a small statue of a praying angel that was knelt in prayer while the pedestal on which it rose had Jocelyn's name, the year she was born and the year she had died, and one phrase. "Taken too soon."
"Are you okay?" John whispered as Miriam rejoined the others.
Mim could only nod her head yes in response as the coffin softly reached the bottom of the grave. That was when two men stepped forward and began to fill in the grave as the preacher gave one more prayer for everyone to hear before everyone was excused to leave. John noticed how close Mankey was to Miriam but did his best to keep his opinion to himself. Now wasn't the time nor place for their own selfish behavior. Ron glanced and saw that Tim kept looking down at the coffin as the grave diggers continued to fill the hole. He couldn't begin to even fathom what he must have been feeling at that moment. As Tim continued to watch the grave being filled, he didn't notice the preacher make his way toward him.
"I'm so sorry for your loss, Timothy." The Father said as he held his bible in both of his hands.
"Thanks you, Father. Those were kind words you said about Jocelyn. And thank you for not turning this into another Sunday sermon." Tim said.
"Now is the time for comfort and not a fire and brimstone speech. How are you holding up?"
"Right now, I feel like hell. I can't wait for this day to end." Tim said as he rubbed the side of his head.
"It's not over yet, Slim." Fritz said as he approached them. "The other ranchers are having a meeting down at the Twilight Moon saloon and they want you there."
"This is the last thing I need." Slim groaned.
"Who's your young friend?" the priest asked.
"Oh, my apologies. Father, this is John Stoppable. He's Miriam's friend from the city. John, this is Father Lawrence Wagner."
"It's a pleasure to meet you." The priest said and offered his hand to John.
"The pleasure's mine." John said as he took a good look at the man of the cloth.
He looked to be a man in his early thirties and his body was tall and skinny, or lanky as some would say. It was like it was a scarecrow that had gained the ability to move. His head was rather large for his body and had a rather square shape. Almost like a large wooden block. He had brown wispy hair that was already starting to recede in the front while his nose was somewhat on the large side and seemed out of place as his blue eyes were a little too close together.
"If I remember, you're a police officer?" the Father asked.
"Former. It just didn't work out for me."
"Oh. Well, maybe you'll find your true calling while you're here. I know I did."
"Was that before or after that mule tried to kick you in the head?" Fritz asked. John saw the preacher role his eyes and shake his head in response to the question.
"I tried to be a blacksmith, but I'm afraid I'm a little bit on the clumsy side with a few things."
"Don't you mean everything, Father? He accidentally locked himself in his own confessional booth last week. He was calling for help for twenty minutes before someone finally let him out." Fritz said with a chuckle.
"Stoppable, would you mind coming along?" Tim asked.
"I don't mind, but; why?" John asked.
"Because I'm almost willing to bet this is about the attacks, and their going to use my daughter's death as an excuse to do something stupid. If they do, I'm going to need all the help I can get to not strangle every single one of them." Tim said and began walking ahead at a faster pace.
"Don't mind his words, Mr. Stoppable. He's just upset." Lawrence muttered to himself.
"No, Father. He's angry. If he were upset, his hand wouldn't be hovering over his pistol right now." Fritz said. "You let Miriam know what were doing so she can head back to the ranch. I'll meet you at the saloon."
"All right. I'll be there as soon as I can." John said as he turned and made his way to Mim. As he did, he saw that she and Joseph Mankey were now talking to a young pale looking woman in a simple black dress with long blonde hair that was done in a large braid. He took his time approaching and cleared his throat to gain their attention.
"Can we help you?" The pale woman asked.
"John, allow me to introduce Ms. Sarah. She's the town's school teacher." Mankey said.
"A pleasure." John said and bowed slightly before his nostrils flared. He felt a slight burning sensation within them as he smelled a rather pungent aroma. Lavender mixed with a smell he wasn't familiar with. "Are you wearing perfume, Miss?" John asked her.
"Yes, but I accidentally spilled some getting ready this morning. It's supposed to be lavender and gooseberries. Is it that bad?" Miss Sarah asked when she noticed John started to look somewhat nauseous.
"No, not at all." Joseph said.
"One of our earlier cases was a robbery where several perfume bottles were destroyed in the process. Ever since then, any perfume scent tends to make John a little unwell." Mim explained.
"Miriam, women are unwell. Men vomit." Mankey said in an effort to lighten the mood in which he failed miserably.
"Is there something that you need, John?" Mim asked.
"I just wanted to let you know that your father is heading to the saloon. Apparently, the other ranchers are having a meeting."
"Oh no. Not again." Miriam moaned.
"They've been arguing about taking matters into their own hands for the past two weeks. If they do that," Sarah started.
"If they do that, then someone's going to get hurt. How was Uncle Tim?" Miriam asked.
"Fritz said something about him having his hand over his pistol." John said.
"We better follow. Uncle Tim is a good man, but he's rather well known for having a short temper. Thank you for your sympathy, Sarah." Mim said.
"You're welcome. Let me if there's anything the students or I can do."
"I'll see Sarah back to the school house while you two keep an eye on Slim." Joseph said.
"Thank you, Joseph. Come on, John. I just hope we're not too late before the fireworks start." Miriam said as they made their way to the saloon.
John couldn't help but feel slightly nervous as they made their way to the saloon. Every time he turned around, he could feel more and more of the world's weight be mounted on top of his shoulders. He wondered if this was how the titan Atlas felt at times. He took a few deep breaths and began to mentally berate himself as he followed Miriam. He came here to help Mim and her family, and that's what he was going to do. So if being apart of this meeting would help, then so be it. So with a brave face, he entered the saloon with Miriam prepared himself for the worst.
The interior of the saloon wasn't what he expected. From all the storied he had heard about the frontier and battles between outlaws and lawmen, he was half expecting to see a practical lawless madhouse. What he saw was a rather tame and respectable establishment. There were ornate carvings on the bar, the walls, and even the banister to the stairs that lead to various rooms up stairs had polished and buffed shine. There were various tables of different sizes that were placed here and there that were stained to a dark finish, polished, and well cared for that were accompanied by equally crafted chairs with upholstered seats. To the far left were several poker tables along with a very well crafted and maintained billiard table. Behind the bar, in the middle of the numerous shelves that housed all the various bottles of liquors, spirits, and ales from across the nation was a large silver backed mirror that reflected everything perfectly as it was held in a gold frame with smooth twists and curves. It was like the maker was trying to replicate something one would see in nature almost.
John had to admit that he was very impressed with what he saw. As he glanced to his right, he could see Tim sitting down with at least four other men around a large circular table. Each of them were wearing clothes that were one part formal and one part clothes one would wear while having to maintain the land or were active outdoors. John quickly followed Miriam and joined the gathered men at the large table. As he did, a whiff of tobacco assaulted John's nostrils like a sharp slap in the face. It wasn't sweetly scented like Tim's cigars, but it was pungent and strong. John couldn't help but feel a little nauseous as he took a seat.
"Miriam, what are you doing here?" Tim asked her.
"Making sure you don't do something rash." She said while Slim merely grunted in response, not wanting to admit that she was right. A duty that was once Jocelyn's when her mother's was absent. Now it had fallen upon Miriam.
"Mim, John, these are some of the local ranchers here. This is Landis, Talbot, Baker, and Bellamy." Tim said as he raised his hand and moved it from left to right as he said each name.
The first, Landis, looked to be around his mid forties. Even though he was sitting down, you could tell that he was a rather tall and broad shouldered man. His hair was dark and greased backwards with hints of gray peppered through out it. His ears were rather large for his rather broad face and his nose was bulbous, and the lines on his face were rather deep. You could easily tell that he had seen and witnessed much in his life as he sat silently with a somewhat glum expression. The second man, Talbot, was in his early thirties and about average height with a thick head of hair that was as black as coal itself. The hair on his head was rather short and stopped right at the lobes of his ears while a very thick black beard that rested on his rather round face and kept its lower half hidden. He also wore a pair or circular glasses that rested high on his narrow nose that slightly dulled his brown eyes that had a sense of vibrant energy to them.
Baker's age seemed to be in between thirties and forties, sitting in the middle of both Landis and Talbot in age. His hair was chestnut brown, long, and pulled back and tied off in a rather long pony tail. Like the others, he had dark eyes but also seemed rather wild in John's opinion. He had a beard as well that seemed to fit his somewhat narrow face, but it wasn't nearly as thick as the one Landis had. He wasn't too skinny nor stocky, but was rather fit. A cigar hung from his mouth in which the rather odious smell was coming from. He could tell it was home made and gathering from how bad it smelled, there may be something else other than tobacco within it. Bellamy was the last and looked to be the oldest at the table as he appeared to be in his very early fifties. His blonde hair was parted down the center and was mostly gray. His thick side burns grew down his face and into the rather lavishly thick mustache that rested on his upper lip. Unlike everyone else, his eyes were a rather deep blue and his lips rather thick. A fact made more obvious as he drank a rather large swallow of Whiskey and slurped the last little bit. He used his navy blue handkerchief in his left hand to dab his lips dry as he set his glass back down on the table with his right. One thing was obvious about this man was an air of smugness. A sight John had become well accustomed within the police department and more specifically with Barkin after Miriam was accused of the theft at the fair.
"Gentleman, I've just had to bury my daughter today and I'm in a very bad mood. So cut the bullshit and get to the point." Tim said in a matter of fact tone of voice.
"The attacks have gotten out of hand, Slim." Landis said. "We need to put a stop to this."
"Quit beating around the bush, Landis. We want to form a hunting party, find this damn thing, and kill it once and for all. It's that simple."
"Nothing is ever simple, Bellamy." Tim said.
"We've got to do something. Whatever the hell this thing is, it's attacking our livelihood. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm sick and tired of sitting around with my thumb up my ass and hoping it'll just get bored and leave." Talbot voiced up.
"I'm guessing you don't want to wait and see what the Sherriff has to say." Tim said.
"That Schmuk? He couldn't find his asshole if you shoved a metal rod up it and gave him a magnet. Besides, he's two towns over attending an execution. Who knows when he'll be back?" Talbot said.
"So how do you just plan on doing this, anyway? We don't even know where the thing is nesting and every attack so far has just been at random." Landis said, trying to keep a level head.
"What he said." Tim said.
"Bellamy has already thought of that." Baker said.
"We set up a trap and lure it out. We'll have to use one of our head as bait, though. Once it goes in for the kill, we shoot it on site." The large man said as he took another swallow of his drink.
"May I remind you that whatever this thing is, it's powerful enough to take down a bull big enough to feed this town for almost a month? That means it has to be powerful if not smart." Miriam said.
"Please, Madam. It's just another stupid animal that you're giving far too much credit too. This is why you never bring a woman to a meeting like this." Bellamy commented.
"May I remind you that my niece is a brilliant young woman that can do just as well as any man here in any job you give here if not more so." Slim said with an edge to his voice. "I suppose all of you are going to be apart of this trap?"
"Actually, no." Baker said, being mostly silent the entire time. "We were going to send some of our hired hands that have experience in hunting and trapping. We were hoping you would volunteer a few of your own."
"Let me guess, you want me to provide the bait too." Slim said and noticed how all of them refused to look him in the eye. "I don't believe any of you. Rather risk your own necks for this idea, you'd rather risk the lives of the men that help keep your ranches running like they were cannon fodder. You want me to sacrifice one of my cattle for this stupid plan? Miriam is right. We don't know what the hell were dealing with, and you just want to go charging after it without knowing what it is. This is a plan for disaster."
"Slim, if it'll help, I'll go with them." Bellamy said. "I've hunted big game myself, so I'll lead the hunt. I'll even volunteer the bait. So all you have to do is provide one or two more gunmen."
"Come on, Slim. You've got to want this thing dead after what it did to Joss." Talbot said and gulped as soon as Tim began to glare at him. If looks could kill, Talbot would be engulfed in flames right about now.
"Don't you goddamn dare drag my daughter into this." Tim said in a slow, rather ominous, and a very threatening low tone of voice. "That thing tore my daughter to pieces. Pieces." Tim growled as he glared at every single one of the gathered men. "IT TORE MY DAUGHTER TO PIECES!" Slim shouted as he stood to his feet; making the entire saloon go silent and focus everyone's attention on him. "You don't think I want this thing dead?! I want it to suffer worse than any fate or punishment that the very pits of hell could ever dream for it! But it won't do us any good going after this fucking thing when we don't know what the hell were going up against! So if you want to make the wives of your hands widows, and possibly make their children orphans; then you go right on ahead. But I won't have anything to do with it." Tim said.
"Gentleman, please!" Father Wagner said as he approached the table. He had followed Miriam and John and had taken a seat at the bar, but had been listening in. "We are all on edge after recent events. We must let cooler heads prevail. Why don't we wait for the Sheriff's return? Surely he'll know what to,"
"I'll do it." John spoke up, causing attention to be focused on him. "I'll volunteer. I took an oath to serve and protect, so it's the least I can do. I'll go."
"John, what are you doing?!" Miriam asked him.
"If I can bring some peace to Jocelyn, then I'm going to do it."
"At least someone is thinking with some common sense." Bellamy said.
"John, I admire your loyalty to Mim. But please, think about this." Tim said before leaving the saloon. As soon as he was out the door, John looked back at the gathered ranchers.
"I'm in." John said.
"Excellent! We'll set everything up for tonight, and I'll send one of my hands to fetch you from Slim's at sundown. Gentlemen." Bellamy said as he stood and left the saloon.
"My people, please! Listen to Timothy. This plan will only bring folly upon us!" Father Wagner pleaded.
"Sorry, Father. But it looks like it's up to us to bring God's wrath this time around." Talbot said as he and the rest of them stood.
"John, what are you thinking?" Mim asked John as she grasped him by the arm.
"Mim, I have done nothing but mess up my entire life. Even my career as a police officer was a joke. I need to do this."
"No, you don't!"
"Yes, I do. I'm sorry." John said as he left the saloon with Fritz sighing and following after.
"Father, what are we going to do?" Miriam asked the preacher.
"The only thing we can do. Pray." Wagner said and crossed himself.
John had just finished dressing himself when he looked back into his suitcase and removed the one thing he hoped he wouldn't have to use. It was a six shot revolver that had never been fired. He had this ever since he first joined the police department and had never had to use it. Now here he was, getting ready to go on a hunt where he may have to use it now. The thought of using the weapon to take a life, even though it was an animal's life, put a vicious knot in the pit of his stomach. He took a steady breath to calm himself and to fight the feeling of him wanting to vomit as he placed the gun on the bed and reached for the case of ammunition. As he held the box, his hands began to tremble. He needed to steady himself.
He placed the ammunition by the gun and quickly took the leather gun belt that Felix had loaned to him and wrapped it around his waist and secured it into place. He then opened the ammo box before grasping his pistol and pushing the cylinder out. He loaded a bullet into each empty chamber of the gun before sliding it back into place and placing the weapon into the attached leather holster of the belt. He cloaed the box, quickly grasped his coat and slid it on, and then took the ammunition box and slid it into one of the side pockets. He hoped this night would be over quickly and the task at hand be accomplished without any incident. As he turned to the door of his room and opened it, he flinched as he saw Miriam glaring at him with a very crossed and angry look on her face. A look he was very well aware of.
"You do know you're acting like an idiot, don't you?" she asked him.
"More than you know." John said as he stepped out of the room quickly and closed the door behind him.
"John, if you're trying to prove something to these idiots then you're going about it the wrong way." Mim said as she followed John down the stairs.
"I don't have anything to prove to them. Wait a minute. Do you think this is about me trying to prove my masculinity?" John asked as he stopped and turned at the precipice of the top step of the staircase.
"Is it?"
"Of course it isn't! After all these years, I thought you knew me better than that!"
"Well the John that I've known for all these years wouldn't do something so half brained, stupid, and dangerous as this. What reason do you have for putting your life at risk?"
"I thought it would be obvious to a woman of your intelligence." John said as he began to descend the steps.
"Does this have something to do with what you said in town? John, please answer me! Are you making this about the theft?"
"No!" John said as he reached the bottom of the stairs with a very frustrated look on his face. "Yes. I don't know! I just know this is something I have to do!"
"No, you don't! You don't have to do anything to redeem yourself to me. You never did."
"It's not just that. I don't know how to explain it." John said halfway to the door before he turned to look at Mim again. "Do you remember when Joss came to visit you? Right before the fair and that whole mess?"
"Of course I do."
"Every time I think about her, I keep seeing that excited little girl. That little girl that this endless energy and thirst for the limitless possibilities in her life. She had this - spark of life in her eyes that always made me smile. So this isn't about me, it isn't about you, it's about her!" John said as tears welled up in his eyes. "That little girl deserves some sense of justice! She didn't deserve what happened to her. So if this one way I can make sure she gets some sense of justice in order for her to rest in peace, you bet your ass that I'm going to do it!" John said as the tears flowed down his cheeks and into his mustache.
Mim's eyes were welling up with tears of her own as she closed the gap between her and John and embraced him in a firm hug which he gladly returned.
"There are other ways. I've already lost so much; I don't want to loose you too." She said to him.
"Hey, John?" Fritz asked as he entered through the front door. "Bellamy is here with a wagon full of hunters. You still going with them, or do I tell them to piss off?"
John broke his hug with Mim and pulled away and looked directly into her green eyes. "I promise you that I will do everything that I can to come back."
John made his way out the front door when Fritz grasped him loosely by his right arm and looked at him.
"You be careful out there. You hear me?"
"I hear you." John said and began walking toward the waiting wagon.
The sunset was quite beautiful as they rode. All the pastels blending together so seamlessly as the sun descended in the distance almost made John think that maybe God was an artist. However, his sense of reverence was soon replaced by unease as they entered the woods and the evening light became sparser and sparser still. The shadows cast by the trees and the autumn leaves seemed to grow and move on their own. It was like their shadows had come to life and were doing their best to change their shape and hide in plain sight. It was like these shadows had sinister thoughts in mind. They had ventured so far from the road that the wagon ride was starting to become bumpier and jolting with every turn of each wheel. John was thankful when the wagon finally came to a stop and the rest of them men began to exit the wagon's confines.
As John made his way out, he saw that they had ventured into a small clearing with a minor hole in the canopy of drying leaves to show that dusk was almost at an end as the pastel hues that John had admired earlier were now becoming the dark skies of night. There was plenty of shrubbery and thick trees surrounding the clearing as four men, including Bellamy who had brought a double barrel shotgun, were loading their weapons.
"Stoppable." A young man of John's age with red hair that almost looked like a shade of bronze asked with a thick Irish accent. "Didn't you bring a gun with you?"
"Of course I did." John said as he brushed his coat aside to reveal the pistol he had loaded earlier.
"That little noise maker? That ain't going to do anything with what we're hunting." The Irish man said with a chuckle. He reached into the wagon and removed a Winchester repeating rifle. After quickly loading it, he handed it to John. "It's easy enough to use. Aim using the sights on the top of the rifle, squeeze the trigger, and then pull the lever down to eject the spent bullet."
"Thank you." John said. "I didn't get your name."
"Just call me Sean." He said as he shook John's hand roughly.
"Do you work for Mr. Bellamy?"
"Nah. I work for Mr. Landis. I've got a wife and wee young one to care for, and I don't want what happened to Miss Possible to happen to them."
"You're married? You look so,"
"Young? I get that a lot."
"You said married and a child?"
"Aye." He said as he pulled out a locket from his shirt and opened it. Inside were two small photos of a woman and a three year old girl. "My wife is Josette and me daughter is Beatrice." Sean said.
"Very Noble." John said while Sean closed the locket and put it back under his shirt. John turned and looked at the clearing and all the woods that were surrounding it. "I'm guessing we're going to try and lure it out into the open here?"
"That's the idea. We hide down wind and then shoot once it's in sight."
"Won't it be hard to try and shoot it at night?" John asked.
"Normally, it would." Bellamy said as he stepped forward. "However, luck seems to be on our side. There's a full moon tonight, and that should give us plenty of light." He said with a smug grin that, with his large lips, made him look like a smiling fish.
"Mr. Bellamy, did you bring the bull yet?" Sean asked.
"Even better." Bellamy said and whistled.
From a deeper part of the woods, two more men appeared with ropes in hand and pulling a struggling animal behind them. At first, John couldn't see what it was as it made the strangest of noises in protest. When it was finally pulled into the clearing, John could see that the large animal wasn't a cow at all. Instead, what they were pulling was a large Elk with a large rack of antlers mounted to its head.
"Where did that come from?" John asked.
"I caught the ruddy bastard earlier this morning. He has been giving some of the crops I've been growing hell. When he tried to flee, he became tangled in one of my fences. So I decided to make the most of the situation."
"I feel sorry for him." John said to himself as he watched the men tie the elk to the nearest tree and made sure that the rope was secured tightly.
"The sun is almost down. All right, time to get this show on the road." Bellamy said as he drew a knife and began to walk toward the struggling and bucking Elk. He made sure to stay clear of the animal's hind quarters as he cautiously approached the beast with knife in hand. Moving in quickly, he used the knife to place two deep cuts into the animals shoulder; making it scream in pain as it shook its head in an effort to break the rope that held it in place. "That will put the scent of blood into the air and lure this bastard out."
"So what do we do now?" John asked.
"We wait." Sean said.
Wait is just what they did. Each of them were either sitting or crouched down as they hid in the brush or against a tree while they kept an eye on the defenseless Elk tied in the clearing. Every so often, they would slowly change position if the direction of the breeze would change to prevent their prey from finding their scent. However, there hadn't been much of a breeze to begin with. John had more than likely had dosed off more than a few times as the night dragged on with no sign of either beast or man. John would usually wake up either by sheer force of will, by Sean when they had to change position, or when the Elk screamed in pain because of them inflicting yet another cut to keep the scent of blood fresh. It was past midnight when John had forced himself awake again when he looked and saw that the Elk was standing still and was now eating some of the grass beneath it. John needed to find away to not fall asleep and decided to start a conversation with Sean.
"Is it always like this? Hunting I mean?" John asked.
"Most of the time. It's mainly a game of patience when you hunt like this." Sean replied.
"You think Mr. Bellamy would have mentioned that." John said.
"Like that man has ever hunted anything in his life. You can tell from the get go that he was born with a silver spoon up his arse."
"He claims that he's hunted big game."
"If that man is a hunter, then I'm from the land of Tir Na Nog."
"What?"
"Never mind." Sean said as he looked over at the Elk as it grazed. "I'd hate to say this, but it would be better if it was still trying to escape."
"Why don't you tell me about your family? Just to make the time go by a little faster?" John asked.
"Not that much to tell. I met me wife when I was working in a shipyard in Liverpool. Her father spent more time drunk and on his back while her mother, God Bless her soul, did what she needed to make ends meet. Her Ma liked me. Her Da; not so much."
"I've met many a man like that." John said as a few old cases came to his mind.
"Her Ma wanted her daughter to have a better life. So when we were married, she gave us all the money she had been saving for us to book a ship to America. Six months after we came here, Beatrice was born." Sean said with a smile.
This gave John a smile on his face as he turned and looked at the Elk again. It was still standing there and still grazing. It had long stopped trying to break free of its bonds and the cuts had stopped bleeding. It looked like there bait was a failure.
"Do you think this hunt is,"
"Shh!" Sean said; silencing John as he turned his ear to his right. "Do you hear that?"
John listened in the dark for whatever Sean was hearing. He heard the rustle of branches, the nocturnal symphony of insects. That was when he heard the horse. The horse that had pulled their wagon and had been restrained several yards behind them. They could hear him snorting and moving about. The horse was upset at something. That was when the snorting was soon replaced by the horse neighing.
"Something has the horse spooked." Sean said as he raised his rifle. As he did, that was when the horse went silent. "John, get your rifle ready."
The quiet had returned, but now it was unnerving. By now, everyone was at alert. They kept looking from their left to their right and tried to keep their breathing steady. John on the other hand was so nervous that he was sure that his hands were shaking. His fear had grown to such an extent that his stomach was bubbling. It happened almost every time he became nervous or afraid. The down side was that when his stomach would bubble, it would result in a case of gas. As they stood in the silent darkness of the night, he was keeping his buttocks clenched in an effort not to pass the gas that was building in his gut. What was only a minute or more passed, it seemed to feel like hours were crawling by. John gasped as he turned upon hearing the sound of rustling behind him. The Elk was shaking his head, but with more vigor and effort than before. It was stamping its hooves and trying to run away in its panicked state.
"Eyes open, boys." Bellamy whispered.
Their guns were raised as they kept their eyes focused on the clearing. The Elk's panic was growing worse and worse as it kept trying to force itself free from the rope. Each of their breathing had quickened in anticipation as the kept their eyes opened and their fingers close to the triggers of their rifles.
"Where is it?" John asked. "Why hasn't it gone for the Elk?"
"Good question." Sean said. "Something isn't right."
"Listen!" one of the men spoke up.
The sounds of crunching leaves came from behind them as something moved. They turned with guns at the ready and tried to search in the darkness for any sign of what they were hunting. What they could see was only trees while the rest of the forest around them was black. When they heard the crunch again, it was from behind them again, but on the other side of the clearing. It wasn't the wind for there was none. What ever made the noise had weight and was moving. As they heard the movement again, they all noticed that it was accompanied with the sounds of deep throated growling.
"It's circling us." Sean said.
"What was that?" Bellamy asked.
"It's circling us. The damn thing is stalking us." Sean said.
"Impossible. We've been keeping down wind." Another said.
"I'm telling you that the damn thing is hunting us!" Sean replied as they heard the growling again, but it was louder and closer. It was closing in on them.
"Is it a boar?" one of the men asked.
"You heard that growl. No boar makes a sound like that." Another answered.
"Could it be a bear?" John asked.
"It's moving too fast." Sean answered.
"What do we do?" Bellamy asked as his voice quivered.
"We just – need to back away. Just slowly start,"
There was a sudden rush from the shadows. A loud and vicious growl was heard as a large creature seemed to almost fly out of the darkness that was blanketing the forest and grabbed one of the hunters and pulled it to the ground like he had been nothing more than a limp rag doll. As everyone turned, they only saw the man's feet kicking wildly as he was being dragged into the shadows. They couldn't even hear him screaming but saw that the ground and leaves were covered in copious amounts of crimson red blood and the trail that he had left behind as he had been taken.
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" Sean whispered as his breathing quickened in a fearful panic.
"To hell with this!" Bellamy said as he dropped his rifle and began to run.
"BELLAMY, YOU COWARDLY BASTARD!" one of the men shouted.
The man raised his rifle, fully intent on putting a bullet through the man's head. That's when they heard another brief roar and Bellamy froze in place. There was movement in the shadows again as the beast emerged once more and seemed to dart past Bellamy as he stood petrified. The beast's movements were so fast that it could barley be seen. Bellamy slowly turned to face the others as his eyes were opened wide and his mouth moving as he tried to speak. Beneath his rather pudgy chin, a very bloody and jagged hole sat where his throat and vocal cords had once been. The inside of his throat could clearly be seen as blood from his arteries spurted out in far and wide ribbons of red arcs with each beat of his terrified heart while pieces of his skin and muscled dangled. A large chunk of his windpipe hung limply forward while the clothes he wore were quickly becoming soaked in pints of blood that almost appeared to be black in the light of the fool moon. As he fell to his knees, the old man's eyes rolled into the back of his head before he let out one vain gargle of noise from his throat and fell to the ground in a lifeless heap.
"Holy shit!" one of the others shouted.
"BACKS TO EACH OTHER! NOW! Form a circle." Sean shouted. Everyone immediately did as the Irish man ordered. As soon as they felt their shoulders pressing against each other, they all raised their rifles. "Be ready!"
"What do we aim for?" another man asked.
"If you see something move that isn't us, shoot it!" Sean shouted back.
Each man was breathing was fast and pacing while their hearts thundered hard within their ribs. Despite the cold air of the night, each man was sweating small rivers down the backs of their necks and along the sides of their faces. John was quickly wiping sweat from his eyes with his right hand while the left kept the gun leveled and the butt in the crook of his shoulder. After trying to dry the hand against his coat, he placed it back on the stock and kept his finger at the ready over the trigger. Everyone's eyes kept darting from left to right, up to down, trying to find any sign of movement. They couldn't hear anything, they couldn't see anything. All was quiet and still.
The next attack was sudden and unexpected as the beast came down upon them from above. They all knocked to the ground as John felt his ankle turn in a way it wasn't supposed to and the air was forcefully expelled from his lungs. He could hear one of the hunters screaming in pain that was accompanied by the sounds of vicious loud snarling, clothes tearing, and wet fresh being ripped apart. John quickly grasped the rifle and turned to see something the size of a man, if not larger, clawing at a downed hunter as it bent down and began biting at the man's neck and torso. John quickly tried to aim from the hip and squeezed the trigger as all the hunters fired as well. The beast snarled in rage as he backed away from its prey and leapt at another hunter that had just stood. The beast knocked him to the ground and bit at the man's arm. More screaming and snarling followed as John could see the beast digging its claws in the man's chest over and over as it viciously shook the mans arm about as it were nothing. He could hear bones snapping over the man's screams of unbridled terror when the beast shook its head once more and John felt something hard and wet hit him in the chest.
John's eyes grew so wide that it felt like his very eyeballs would fall from their sockets as he looked at what had hit him now laying on the ground. The man's entire forearm had been ripped away at the elbow and flung into John's chest. Through his fear and his need to vomit, he looked back up again. The creature had dispatched two other hunters in the time it took John to look up again and stand to his feet and saw that it was now making a straight line towards Sean. John opened fire once more with the rifle aimed at the beast's chest until the weapon had fired every bullet it had; but it was to no avail. John watched helplessly as the beast reared up on its hind quarters and brought down the claws on its right from limb down across Sean's face. Sean was now on the ground with his hands clutching his neck as several deep scratches split the skin of his face open down to the bone. Deep rich blood was seeping through his fingers as he chocked and gargled, looking up at John in a desperate and pleading look of help.
As Sean lay bleeding to death, John looked at the beast. It still stood upright as it were a man and growled deep and long. The shadows of the trees hid its features from him except one. The eyes. The eyes of the beast were a deep yellow, almost like gold as it stalked toward him. Where were the other hunters? Why weren't they shooting at it? They couldn't all be dead yet, could they? The rifle he held was useless now; its ammunition spent. That's when he remembered his pistol. He threw down the rifle and reached for his side to the belt he wore and felt nothing. He quickly looked down and saw that the pistol was missing! It must have fallen out when he fell. John looked up again and saw that the beast was tilting its head at him. For a brief moment, it was as if the creature was trying to figure out what he was doing. John needed something to defend himself or he was done for. He looked all around and saw something in the moonlight. Bellamy's gun!
Bellamy had brought a double barrel shotgun and hadn't fired it. It was still loaded but it was also a few feet from where John stood. Right now, in John's perception caused by his frightened state, it seemed as far from him as the ocean was wide. He looked at the beast one more time and saw its confusion was over now. He could hear it growling once more and see the moonlight bouncing off of it fur and it began to move. John quickly glanced at the shotgun again before looking back at the beast. His mind was made up. John quickly ran toward the shotgun as fast as he could. He was leaning forward as he ran with his arm outstretched as he saw himself closing the distance foot by foot. That was when he felt sharp claws sink into his right shoulder and a set of sharp fangs sink themselves deeply into his left shoulder. John shouted in pain as he felt the beast's wait on top of him and fell forward and hit the soft grass and hard dirt hard. The claws sank in deeper as he felt the monster begin to try and jerk his head and pull. John wanted to scream but the pain was overwhelming. He could see the shotgun and reached for it with his outstretched right arm. He could feel the creature bite into his shoulder again and again.
Tears were freely flowing down his face as he breathed in dirt and pollen with each dry sob that escaped him. As soon as he could feel cold steel of the shotgun's barrel, he gripped it tightly. The gun was heavy, but he willed himself to lift it. He used the gun as a club as he shoved it back behind his shoulder and could feel it connect as he heard the beast yelp in pain. He quickly spun over and clutched the gun to his chest. He looked and saw the beast shake its head while on all fours before glaring at him again. John wasn't safe yet. He fumbled as he tried to position the gun as he saw the beast crouch and prepare for another attack. The beast lunged for John but screamed in pain as both barrels of the gun fired at once and launched a blast of buckshot toward the beast. Yelping and shouting in pain, the creature began to hobble away while still on all four legs but was noticeably limping away. Ron looked down and saw that the gun was sitting in his shaking hands with his finger clasped down tightly on the trigger. John let his head fall backwards to the ground as he tried to regain his breathing.
As his heart began to slow, he did his best to look all around himself. He could see Sean, but he was laying still with both hands, covered in blood, still clutching his throat while the rest of his skin was pale and white as a freshly bleached sheet. All around himself, he saw the other hunters were laying on the ground as well and not moving. How could have it killed so many so quickly? John looked upwards to the clearing and saw the Elk slumped over dead. Its head was still bound to the tree and pulled upward while its belly had been torn open and all of its intestines spilled outward in a horrid and grotesque mess. That's when the pain burned though his shoulders. The left was worse than the right, but with every subtle movement it felt like the pain would never end. He looked to his left and saw that his entire shoulder was covered in blood; his blood. He closed his eyes and began to weep. He was going to die here. Miriam had been right this entire time. It was a stupid idea and now he was going to pay for it with his life. He would never see Miriam ever again and began to sob even more.
His sobs were caught in his throat when he heard footsteps. It was the sounds of dead leaves and twigs crunching underfoot again. The first thing that flashed through his mind was that beast had returned. He hadn't injured it like he thought he had and it was coming back to finish him off. He tried to lay still and hold his breath, but the pain kept making him weep and his breathing ragged. As he waited for the beast's teeth to clamp down on his throat, he heard something else. It was the sound of voices. Voices that weren't that far away from where he laid sprawled out on the ground.
"I'm telling you, I heard gunshots coming from over here." a gruff voice said.
"Well, I don't see anything." Another voice said. At that moment, John didn't care if it were poachers, farmers, or a search party. It meant a way for him to survive.
"H-help." John said but knew it wasn't loud enough. He could barley hear himself. He needed to be louder, he needed them to find him. He took several deep breaths and tried to fight through the pain as he wet his lips. "HELP!" John screamed as loud as he could. "HELP! PLEASE!" he screamed again.
"Over here! It came from over here!" the gruff voice said. John could hear several other footsteps rushing toward him and he breathed a sigh of relief. John laid his head back and felt himself to relax and his eye lids were getting sleepy. Help was on the way. For now, he just needed a little rest as he closed his eyes and passed out.