Smash & Grab: RELIC #1

by Maz Maddox

  Rich, dense forest covered the beautiful mountainsides surrounding us, dipping low into a crystal stream babbling far below. The air was crisp, just cool enough to make the tips of your ears a little pink.

  “Where are we? This is beautiful.” I smiled up at the clear sky and walked closer to the hillside we were parked near.

  “The Mystery Hole,” Dalton announced, snapping my attention back to him, the trees forgotten.

  “The what?”

  He grinned, just so proud of himself for making me look confused, and pointed towards a small wooden building with a gorilla perched on top. It was a humble structure, painted barn red with bright yellow accents, and various trinkets and signs hanging above the door. Attached to the back of the brightly painted shack was a long, almost tube-like hallway made from sheet metal with half of a Volkswagen Beetle sticking out the side.

  “The Mystery Hole” was painted across the metal part, painted just as vibrant as the wooden house, and the half a Beetle sported the phrase “Flower Power” across the back windshield. Naturally, little white daisies were painted along the car’s doors to match the aesthetic.

  “See the unbelievable,” I read out loud from the retro sign above the building. “Is this like ‘The Thing’ in Arizona? Am I going to see a mummy wearing a hat or something?”

  “I dunno.” Dalton shrugged with a smirk. “We gotta go in and see.”

  “We’re not actually paying to go in there, right?” I laughed. “This is a kitschy as hell tourist trap.”

  “Yeah, that’s the best kind of tourist trap,” Dalton argued, tossing his arm around my shoulders and steering me towards the building.

  “I don’t think this is the best use of our time,” I argued, but didn’t resist. This guy was more touchy-feely than I was used to. Our height was just similar enough that when he put his arm around me, he didn’t have to strain or adjust his stride. He smelled a little like mint shampoo with hints of energy drink, and his lip studs sparkled a bit in the light.

  “Live a little, Simon. Let me show you a Mystery Hole.” Dalton wiggled his brows. I shook my head, biting my tongue so I didn’t smile. “C’mon, be a good boy and I’ll buy you a keychain.”

  Chapter Five

  Dalton

  “That was stupid.” Was the first thing Simon said after the tour.

  To be fair, it was stupid, but that wasn’t the point of going. How could you not stop into a place called the Mystery Hole? It was likely the only attraction named in such a hilariously provocative way that didn’t give you VD.

  “It was basic physics surrounded by garish decorations,” Simon continued.

  “Yeah, but check out these dope ass hats.” I tugged one on over my floppy mohawk that just said “Mystery Hole”. “It’s going to be what I start calling my--”

  “Stop.” Simon cut me off by holding up a hand. “There’s children present.”

  “You got a filthy mind, honeybee.” I leaned on his shoulder and put the hat on him, but he just placed it back on the display. “Check it out, they got Hole Mints.”

  Something had made him uncomfortable, despite my on-point zingers, so Simon slipped away towards the door. “I’m going outside to wait by the car.”

  It was like the guy was allergic to fun. The whole time we watched the tour guide walk us through the compact little arrangement of optical illusions, Simon looked bored as hell. Even in the super tilty room that made it look like you were standing at an angle. Maybe he was born fully formed as a stick in the mud.

  Either way, as a man of my word, I bought him a keychain and my hat, then met him back by the car. The mountain air was delicious: fresh, clean and swimming with the scent of prey. My inner feathers twitched and my claws scratched.

  “Why don’t we camp out here tonight?” I asked.

  Simon looked at me from where he was leaning against the Rodeo’s passenger door.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Why not?” I gave the Rodeo’s hood a pat. “There’s sleeping bags and shit in the back. There’s campsites all over this area.”

  Simon’s eyes swept the landscape again before he gave a nod. “You know what? Yeah. That sounds great. This area is beautiful.”

  “Groovy.” I tugged the door open. “Saddle up, let’s go find our spot.”

  “I’ve never been to West Virginia before,” Simon said as he climbed inside and buckled up. “I can see why there’s songs about this place. It’s breathtaking -- whoa!” He grabbed the handle above the window as we rolled off road. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Finding a camp spot?” I snorted.

  “There’s roads!” Simon shrieked, flapping his hand back towards the gravel road in front of the Mystery Hole.

  “Sure are.”

  “Then why aren’t you using them?” He snapped.

  “Cause you don’t camp on the road, jackass.” I rolled my eyes dramatically then batted them in his direction. “Is this your first time? Should I be gentle?”

  “Watch where you’re going!”

  I took a sharp turn to avoid a tree and he flew into a fantastic combination of curses I didn’t think he was capable of. “Wow, potty mouth. There are children in the area, you know.”

  “Will you fucking stop!” Simon yelled like a turtle bit his balls, so I finally came to a stop and glanced around.

  “Yeah, this is a good spot!” I pushed the door open and looked around. “Nice eye, Simon. We’re by the creek.”

  “Jesus Christ.” Simon put his hand to his chest and caught his breath from the excitement. “You’re insane.”

  “If you want to gather sticks for a fire, I’ll go find us something for dinner.” I tossed my jacket across my seat before stretching. Simon climbed out of the Rodeo and scanned the area.

  “Do you have fishing stuff?” he asked.

  “No, I was going to go catch some rabbits.”

  “How?” His brows furrowed. “You’re not going to use your handgun to hunt for them, right? I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”

  I snorted. “There would be nothing edible about a rabbit if I shot it with the Glock. I’ll use...snares or something. Don’t worry about it.” I waved my hand dismissively. “Just find the sticks.”

  Simon’s unimpressed sigh and sarcastic little eyebrow rise wasn’t lost on me. He didn’t believe in my skills as a hunter, but that would change when I hauled back a fucking deer or something. I couldn’t wait to smell the surrounding forest with my shifted senses, view the treeline with my sharp eyes. The temptation to strip down and shift right there was almost overpowering, but I forced myself to be patient.

  I had to get far enough away so Simon or other humans wouldn’t see me strip and shift.

  After a couple or twenty minutes of strolling through the forest, I found a fallen log that I could use to stuff my stuff under. Years of being sneaky about changing forms came with some hard lessons learned, like if a hiker found your shit, they’d likely take it in order to report someone missing. Or they’d just fucking take it. I’m still mourning my favorite pair of jeans, ten years after not hiding them well enough.

  The last damn thing I needed was to have some rangers out here looking for a naked man, or to have to march back to Simon with my ass out. Though, I did enjoy watching him squirm when I was freeballing. I’d never seen someone concentrating so hard on keeping eye contact.

  I think he protests too much.

  Or maybe I was just really horny for some contact. This whole damn trip had left me painfully unfucked, and it was starting to get to me. The hunt would help burn some energy, and a full stomach would help me sleep without needing to jack off.

  With my shirt, pants and boots tucked away, I took one good listen and look around before pulling my animal form forward. The sliding of my bones, twisting of my muscles and insides while my skin vibrated with feather growth always tipped my reality sideways. My brain reshaped inside of my narrow skull, my senses blasting to life.

  I was me, bu
t a different flavor of me; driven by instinct, impulse and hunger instead of reason and awareness. While my perception was tilted heavier on primal, I still retained my memories and connections.

  I would chase down a beast and eat it, but I wouldn’t hunt humans. I understood and remembered not to do that. So, while I was smarter than my bald counterparts in Jurassic Park, I wasn’t about to start reciting Shakespeare.

  Once I was in my full, feathered form, I lifted my snout and breathed in deep. The rainbow of life around me pulsated with opportunities for dinner. Small mammals were scurrying around across the forest floor or just beneath it. Birds fluttered around above me.

  Then, there were much bigger prey.

  Large deer weren’t far, and my stomach growled as I drank in their scent. Coyotes danced around the edges of the deers’ territory, their smells rich but not as delicious.

  Beyond that, far out in the distance, was the heady, strong taste of bear.

  Oooh, bear.

  What a challenge. A real challenge. Something worth a good fight.

  But no. No.

  I wasn’t looking for a fight, I was looking for food.

  Deer? Yes. Deer for me. Then rabbits for human.

  Simon. Pretty Simon.

  Maybe he’ll like my rabbits. I need to get good, fat rabbits for pretty Simon.

  But first, deer.

  The forest was fun to navigate. Tall, thick trees dimmed the light of the sun so the ground was soft and cool. Life was everywhere, scurrying away as I neared, or soaring above without a care. I kept my footsteps quiet and my body low as I neared the buck strolling through the woods. He was a mighty thing, tall and regal with deadly antlers. This prey would put up a fight and be fast if I’d let him. It made me sad knowing I didn’t have time to play around with it.

  I had to get rabbits after this.

  My coloring didn’t match the forest, so I had to be careful. My smell wasn’t anything the animal would understand, which meant it would scare it away. One step at a time, I crept as close as I dared. The buck stopped to nibble, his ears twitching for anything lurking in the dark.

  When I made my move, the noise of my claws pushing off the leaf covered ground gave away my location. The buck sprang into action, leaping up and bouncing away through the forest. I dodged left, catching up to it from the side before tackling it to the ground with my weight and momentum.

  It thrashed as I grabbed on with my claws and sank my jaws around its thick neck. The buck had enough strength and body weight to roll over on me while I slashed at its throat with my teeth, which almost hurt.

  But soon, its strength failed, its limbs weakened, and the fight was mine.

  Ah, venison. Not nearly as delicious as beef, but still wonderful.

  When I had my fill, I wanted more than anything to nap. My belly was happy and my eyelids were begging to let me snooze. But I couldn’t.

  Rabbits.

  Rabbits for pretty Simon.

  While the deer was an average game of patience and skill, the rabbits were a frustrating dance of dexterity. I was fast, but they were goddamn impossible. The nimble little bastards could hear me coming from a mile away, and would escape into burrows I couldn’t reach my snout into. One particular rabbit slipped free from my jaws just when I thought I had him and caused me to run my head into a low hanging tree limb to chase him.

  I was very upset, and tried to dig up the borrow he escaped into, only to stick my nose into an ant hill.

  I’ve never hated another living creature more than that rabbit.

  It took much longer than it should have for me to be successful in catching two snack sized little mammals. Luck was on my side when I was able to root out a family of rabbits and snag two as they tried to scurry away.

  With my hard-earned prizes in my jaws, I began back towards the camp. The sun was low and the forest would have been very dark to my human eyes. Far in the distance, a noise caught my attention. It wasn’t the normal sounds I had been listening to for the better part of an hour. It was abrupt, loud and sporadic.

  Yelling.

  Human yelling.

  I picked up my pace and began trotting, listening carefully to the yell. Someone was calling a name. Was someone lost? Maybe a human lost someone. It sounded long and calm, maybe even annoyed.

  Then the pitch changed. The calls started happening more frequently.

  It was scared.

  Simon.

  It was Simon.

  Simon was scared and he was…

  Calling for me.

  SIMON

  The sun was beginning to set once I finally gathered up enough sticks for a fire.

  While I wasn’t the biggest fan of how we got here, the area was damn gorgeous. Our makeshift little camp was just close enough to the stream for it to be peaceful and the air to be fresh. The expanse of dark, emerald trees surrounding us was possibly one of the more beautiful sights I’d seen. Birds sang all around, and the open sky was starting to get traces of pinks from the sleepy sun.

  My stomach ruined the serene moment by growling loudly. Since this wasn’t the first time I was out in the wilderness and had at least a pocketknife purchased at Walmart, I was able to make a decent little trap to get some fish. While my sad trap didn’t land us anything huge, it was a couple of fat little appetizers that would do in a pinch.

  After checking on my catch, I went back to the Rodeo to check on my phone that was charging. It had been over an hour since Dalton wandered off into the woods to catch rabbits using “snares or something.” Worry was starting to tap at the back of my head, especially since I was more than sure there had to be at least wolves in a forest as massive as these.

  He had to be fine. The guy could hold his own against three armed men.

  I sighed and tossed my phone back into the seat before opening up the glove box. My hope was to find some headache medicine or maybe some napkins, but instead I was greeted with a solid black handgun. Was that Dalton’s gun from before? Did he have more than one?

  Was he in the damn forest without a weapon?

  “Shit.” I slammed the glove box closed and grabbed a flashlight from the trunk. It was surprising that someone as wild and disorganized as Dalton had basic supplies like duct tape, car tools and a flashlight, but he did.

  Or whoever had this vehicle before him did.

  That...seemed more likely.

  I pocketed my cell and headed the direction I last saw Dalton going.

  “Dalton!”

  The forest was bustling with life, birds singing and trees whispering from the wind, but no sounds of any humans. I yelled again as I made my way through the thick brush, but my voice floated away unanswered. Dusk was starting to settle, causing the already dim light inside the forest to darken quickly. I turned my flashlight on and kept it aimed mostly downward, so I didn’t crash into a log and go tipping over it.

  “Dalton!” I tried again, the tapping worry now starting to grab my chest. The guy was a jerk, but I didn’t want him to get lost or eaten. “Dalton--”

  I caught the smell of something unmistakable.

  Blood.

  Death.

  The same smell I’d encountered before when some wolves caught a deer close by a dig site. It was a nauseating, sharp smell of metal and shit, and the strength of it suggested something large. Like a deer.

  Please be a fucking deer.

  With worry now mutating into an ice block of fear, I hesitantly covered my mouth with my shirt and kept going.

  “Dalton!” I yelled through my shirt. “Fucking answer me!”

  Just when the smell was starting to gag me, I saw the source. It was a deer, thank God, but it had clearly been killed by something damn big. Its neck was snapped and ripped open, guts were spilled out from the picked through ribcage and tear marks were all over the hide.

  It didn’t look anything like the deer killed by the wolves I had seen. They ripped all the limbs free and dragged them all over. No, this was one big thing, not a b
unch of medium sized things.

  It had to have been a bear. Right?

  “Dalton!” I pulled my shirt away and screamed as loud as I could, running past the corpse into the darkening forest.

  I didn’t know if he could hear me, but I was getting angry at his silence. I was getting angry that he might be hurt and I couldn’t find him. My mind took the image of the dead deer and ran screaming into the darkest parts of my imagination.

  What if he was hurt and couldn’t scream for help because of the bear?

  What if he was hiding?

  What if he’s already dead and I can’t smell his blood?

  “Dalton!”

  “Simon!” Dalton’s voice came barreling out of the woods along with him, naked as the day he was born, bloody with something furry clutched in one hand. I ran over to him and caught his shoulders, checking him over for the source of the blood.

  “Where are you hurt? How bad?”

  “I’m not hurt, are you?” He had his free hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I heard you screaming. What the hell happen--”

  I pulled him into my arms and hugged him tight, my heart pounding and my head swimming.

  “Jesus shitting Christ, I thought something happened to you,” I said in a rush. “I found a dead deer a bear got to and I thought you were hurt. I thought you were dead.”

  Surprisingly, he didn’t say anything snarky or shitty, just gave my back a pat and let me cling to him like a mad man for a couple seconds. As my brain started firing and pushed past my panic, my anger and surroundings came flying back.

  I pulled back and looked him over again, shaking my head. “Why the hell are you naked?! And why are you covered in blood?”

  “Hunting is messy.” He shrugged. “Didn’t want to stain my clothes.”

  “So you hunted naked in the woods, Dalton?” I gestured back towards the dead deer. “Naked?”

  “Don’t criticize my process,” he scoffed, lifting the two fresh rabbits he was holding by the back feet. “I got us dinner.”