by Daniel Pyle
I’ll be damned if this fire is going to break into Wisconsin, Ray thought.
The animals were already making their exit by the time the firefighters drew a stop-line in the undergrowth. White-tailed deer, wolves, black bears, and moose passed by, united by a single threat, panic in their eyes.
We’ve got to stop this.
Something rustled in a nearby bush. Probably an animal, trapped and scared. Ray took his eyes off his men and looked toward the noise.
“Don’t worry little guy,” he said in a soft tone. “We’re here to help. There’s still time to get out.”
“Captain, we’re ready,” said one of his men, Joshua. “Water tanker is five minutes away.”
“All right.” He looked away from the bush, hunched over, and picked up a branch to use as kindling. “Let’s do this before it’s too late.”
He used a flip-top lighter to ignite the branch. The leaves sizzled and glowed orange.
“Let’s hope this is enough,” Ray said and tossed the kindling onto the remaining underbrush.
A crackling sound filled the air as the flame spread outward. Ray felt heat on his face and stepped back to watch from a safer distance.
Someone screamed behind him.
“What was—”
Ray turned around in time to see two massive hands reach out from a bush near where he’d just been standing, grab hold of Joshua by the shoulders, and pull him into the underbrush.
Shrieks from the rustling bush drowned out the crackling fire.
“Joshua!” Ray called.
Several of his men hurried over. “What happened?” one of them asked.
Another fireman opened his mouth to speak but was cut off when a limbless torso flew out of the bush and landed at his feet. Blood seeped from the stumps where the extremities had been.
“Ahhh! Help me!” someone else bellowed.
Ray turned in time to see another of his men disappear into the bush.
“What the hell is that?” a veteran firefighter asked, his voice shaky.
“I don’t know!”
The remaining firefighters took up their pickaxes, the only weapons they had, and gathered in a circle. With their backs to each other, they eyed the tree line. Branches shook. The ground trembled with each step the mysterious attacker took. Its heavy breaths and grunts echoed on the air, making it impossible to determine its exact location.
“Be ready,” Ray said, doing his best to keep his cool.
Once more, screaming filled the air.
“Danny! It took Danny!” someone howled.
The fire at Ray’s back intensified and drove back the shadows their assailant was using for cover. Ray didn’t know what was stalking them, but he was certain it was no animal. It was picking them off systematically, toying with them.
Ray caught movement at his peripheral and turned left to see the silhouette of a man against the forest backdrop. But it was too large, too frightening to be human.
“What—”
The last thing Ray saw was an enormous rock slicing through the air, coming right at his head.
• • •
David Chase rolled over and peered at the alarm clock. The LCD numbers came into focus: 3:00 am.
“Who the hell—”
A violent knock at his front door cut him off.
“Sheriff. Wake up!”
Sounds like Sean, he thought.
“This better be damn important.”
David huffed as he swung his feet over the edge of his bed. His toes probed the hardwood floor for his slippers, and once his feet were firmly planted within them, he stood and grabbed his robe from the door.
The hammering on his front door continued.
“Damnit, Sean. Hold on,” he mumbled.
More knocks.
“I’m coming!”
“Finally,” the young deputy said when David opened the door. “We’ve got a problem.”
“What is it?”
“One of the firefighting units failed to radio in.”
He peered past Sean. An orange glow pulsed on the horizon. “So? They’re probably busy battling the fire.”
“Maybe. But we’ve been asked to check it out. A water tanker was scheduled to meet up with them, but no one showed.”
David sighed and said, “Did you call Tracey?”
“No sir, the lines are down. That’s why I’m here.”
“All right. Get your ass back to the station in case any other calls come in. I’ll drive over to Tracey’s, and we’ll head out there together.”
“You’re the boss.” Sean turned back toward his squad car.
“And Sean.”
“Yeah?”
“Take it easy on my door next time, huh.”
Sean acknowledged this with a quick flutter of his hand and kept walking. David shook his head.
On a normal day, Douglas County was peaceful and serene. The local police force of each city took care of the day-to day business while David and his deputies handled the outlying regions, which covered most of the area around the Great Lakes. His average day consisted of helping lost hikers, scaring off hunters, and patrolling rarely used roads. Though there were times he dreamt of a little action, this had never been what he had in mind.
The kids who started this are lucky they’re not in my jurisdiction. I’d ring their necks.
David took a quick shower and pulled on his pale gray uniform. Then he got in his car and headed for Tracey’s place. The blanket of haze reduced visibility and turned what was normally a ten or fifteen minute drive into a half hour ordeal.
All I need now is to hit a deer, he thought and squeezed the steering wheel.
He made it to Tracey’s without incident and walked up to the door praying to God she didn’t castrate him for disturbing her. He knocked and heard something break inside the house.
The door swung open. “Don’t think you can just come…Oh, Sheriff, what are you doing here?”
He was surprised to see her still in uniform. Her eyes were red and puffy.
What have I gotten myself into?
“Sorry if this is a bad time,” he said, “but duty calls.”
Tracey stepped aside. “Come in. I could use the distraction. Just let me splash some water on my face.” She sniffed.
Her tone caught him by surprise. He had always known her to be a strong, domineering woman and didn’t remember ever seeing her cry. Inside, David noticed broken glass by the fireplace and a knocked over lamp. His gaze drifted toward the mantle.
“What happened?” he asked after realizing Tony’s picture was missing. Tracey and Tony, a fellow officer, had dated for years and been engaged for two.
“Nothing,” she replied and closed the door behind him. She turned and walked away, heading for the bathroom.
Okay, she obviously doesn’t want to talk about it.
“You’ve got one of those French presses, right?” he called out, trying to change the subject.
“Yeah,” she hollered back. “Make enough for two, would ya!”
“Sure.”
He walked across the living room and noticed a pile of half-finished knitting in a chair.
She knits?
He flipped over the ball of yarn, saw tiny socks hanging from the knitting needles. Baby socks.
Huh.
He raised his eyebrows and walked out of the room.
As David prepared the coffee, his thoughts drifted to the missing firemen. He needed to find out what had happened, of course, but he wasn’t all that thrilled with venturing into a blazing forest fire.
“Tony and I called off the engagement,” Tracey said as she entered the kitchen.
The information shocked him—he thought he’d walked in on the aftermath of a lover’s spat, not a serious breakup. Still, over the years he’d seen Tracey’s temper, how she could overreact, and he couldn’t help but wonder what she had done this time to drive Tony away.
“The tests came back.” She ran a hand through
her hair. “I can’t have children.”
David frowned. “I didn’t realize you were trying.”
“Yeah,” she said. A tear streamed down her left cheek, and she turned away from him to wipe it off.
“I…I’m so sorry.” David stepped closer to her and opened his arms. She slumped against him.
As her head found his shoulder, she breathed in deeply. A loud wheeze escaped her lips as an all out cry came over her. He held her tight, allowing her a moment. Her tears dampened his uniform. He knew her pain (or some of it anyway; the break-up part), had felt it when Lisa left him for a younger man years ago. People changed. Ideals, hopes, and dreams evolved with age, and people drifted apart. No one knew that better than him.
“You guys have been together a long time. I’m sure he’ll come around,” he said, although he barely believed the words himself.
“Fuck him,” she said and pulled away from David. “Things were never that good with him anyway. Always had his eye out for the next best thing. I can do better. But I always dreamed about having children. To be responsible for a life. Ya know?”
“Yeah, I do.”
She looked at him doubtfully, but said nothing.
“C’mon, we need to get out to the site,” he said.
She sniffled and pointed over his shoulder. “I’ve got some travel mugs in the cupboard.”
Coffee in hand, they slipped into his squad car and headed up Route 53. Though they couldn’t see the smoke yet, they could smell it in the air, even some twenty miles out. On their way, they saw two airplanes release water over the affected area. By the time they arrived at the last reported coordinates of the firefighters, the sun had broken over the horizon.
“It’s going to be hard to see anything out there with all this smoke,” Tracey said when they’d stepped out of the car.
“I know,” he said.
David popped the trunk. He kept all sorts of supplies back there: road flares, a first aid kit, folded blankets, bottles of water, extra ammo, anything he might need, compartmentalized and ready to go.
“Don’t forget to grab a mask,” he said. “We don’t need to collapse from smoke inhalation out here.”
“Here’s to finding them alive,” she replied. She grabbed a mask and slipped it on.
David couldn’t get his mask on fast enough. The air was thick with soot. The smell of sulfur burned his nostrils and eyes, instantly bringing tears, and he couldn’t help but think what a bad idea this had been. The thought shamed him. This was his job and there was no one else to do it, but still, what good would he do anyone if he ended up trapped in or killed by the fire?
The trees and underbrush close to the road still held their vibrant green colors, but the deeper they went into the forest, the more desolate the picture became. Tree bark was scorched black, and the few remaining leaves were brown and brittle. Though it was obvious the aerial assault on the fire was working, there were still plenty of smoldering fires on the forest floor. Soon there would be nothing left to fuel them, but David kicked dirt on the flames as he passed anyway, wanting to help in any way he could. Tracey saw what he was doing and followed suit.
David glanced around him, thought about how many animals the blaze must have uprooted, and his heart sank. The forest surrounding the Great Lakes had always been a place of refuge, tranquil and serene. Now all that remained was death and decay. He wondered how long it would take the forest to heal.
“Look!” Tracey pointed up ahead.
David squinted and saw a large bulldozer. “Must be the firebreak.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Tracey darted ahead.
David took a deep breath before running after her.
As they drew closer to the bulldozer, David noticed its yellow paint was blackened and bubbling away. But something else also caught his eye: a body, sprawled on the ground beside the machine. He picked up his pace.
“What is it?” Tracey asked as he passed her.
“Someone’s…hurt.” He couldn’t bring himself to suggest anything worse.
He reached the body. But it wasn’t just one body. Arms, legs, and other bloody parts decorated the ashen ground. The sight sickened him. He turned away and went back to stop Tracey before she could see the worst of it. The body—that first body—had been unidentifiable. A large rock jutted from its face, leaving nothing but broken glass from the protective mask, mangled flesh, and blood.
“Don’t look,” David said as loudly as he could through the mask.
Tracey peered over his shoulder despite the warning. “Oh…Jesus!”
“I told you not to look.”
Her face paled. “Who is it?”
David told her he didn’t know.
“They’re all dead?” she asked and stepped around the faceless body.
“Looks that way.”
“What did this? Animals?”
“No,” he said and carefully looked over the severed appendages. “The pieces don’t look chewed on or anything. Just ripped apart. We better call it in. We’re going to need backup. Maybe one of the men snapped under the pressure.”
Tracey examined the grounds, her color returning. “The coroner’s going to have a helluva time matching up these pieces.”
David radioed dispatch and filled Sean in. When Sean started asking questions, David cut him off: “Just get us some help out here asap.”
“Sheriff!” Tracey shouted. “Over here!”
David released the button on his radio and walked over to Tracey. “Whatcha got?”
“Blood.”
“There’s blood everywhere.”
“Yeah, but this is leading away. Look.” She pointed to the underbrush on the unburned side of the firebreak, and David noticed a splotch of blood weighing down a leaf.
“Somebody went this way,” she said. “Maybe the killer.”
“Only one way to find out.” He drew his gun.
Tracey followed him through the brush. The patches of blood turned to sporadic droplets as they went on, and David couldn’t help but wonder if the attacker (if there was an attacker) was injured. Of course, maybe they weren’t following a killer at all; maybe one of the firefighters had lived and run away. They might be just as likely to find another body as an ax-wielding psychopath.
“How far should we go?”
“All the way,” he replied.
“What if we can’t find our way back?”
“I know where we’re going. I’ve—”
He saw something impossible sitting on a boulder ahead. It slouched on the rock, breathing heavily. Even doubled over like it was, its size was undeniable.
It can’t be. It’s not possible. He raised his gun.
A twig snapped as Tracey approached, and the beast turned toward them. It jumped to its feet and roared.
Standing there—over eight feet tall, covered head to toe with dark, reddish hair—was an enormous creature, almost man-like but so very different. Its large eyes stared out from beneath its ridged brow and large, low-set forehead. It had a gigantic head with a single crest bone running lengthwise along the midline like a gorilla’s. The beast’s lips and chin seemed to blend together and protrude past the upper jaw. Its teeth were short, blunt.
The creature pounded its chest with boulder-sized fists and let loose another mighty roar, but it had a glint of fear in its eyes. David couldn’t imagine what a creature like this could possibly be afraid of.
“Ho…holy shit.”
The beast stepped forward and winced in pain. David squinted and saw blood matting the creature’s fur, red on red. A ragged edge clearly defined the open wound in its upper thigh.
With her gun at her side, Tracey stepped past David and whispered, “You need to lower your weapon.”
“Are you crazy?”
The beast grunted and took another step toward them.
“No,” she said. “Back up slowly. Don’t make any sudden moves that it could take as a threat.”
David trembled wi
th fear, but Tracey seemed unafraid. She was calm, collected, a far cry from the sobbing mess she’d been when he knocked on her door earlier that morning.
Did she know about this?
He stared at her.
The beast charged unexpectedly, and David pointed his gun. With little time to aim, he fired a warning shot. The beast stopped and ducked. Tracey screamed and put herself between David and the creature.
“What are you doing? Get out of the way!”
“You can’t do this,” she said.
The beast fled.
David felt a rush of adrenaline and shoved Tracey aside. “Get out of my way. We can’t let it get away.”
With each stride of the beast’s long legs, the distance between it and David grew. Despite its size, the creature moved with elegance and grace, carefully sidestepping trees and hopping low bushes.
David raised his pistol and waited for a clear shot. He knew if he didn’t do something soon, the beast would lose him and continue to roam free, to kill.
The creature veered to its right to avoid a low branch.
“Gotcha!” David pulled the trigger. The thing roared and grabbed at its side but continued to run, not looking back.
“Stop, David!” Tracey called from behind.
“You saw what it did. We have a responsibility to protect people.”
He continued to chase the beast, and though the creature hadn’t dropped despite the gunshot wound, it was slowing down. David lined up another shot and fired. The beast shifted to the left, and dirt puffed into the air as the bullet hit the ground in front of it.
“Please!”
He ignored Tracey, kept running, and aimed again. The next shot would be the one; he was sure of it. With the back of the beast’s head in his sights, he fired.
The bullet hit its mark. The beast bellowed and fell to the forest floor, but it still didn’t stop trying to get away. Down on all fours, it pulled itself onward. David approached the fallen giant, his gun raised, his finger on the trigger.
“David. Stop!” A gunshot boomed, and David turned around slowly, hands pointing toward the sky.
“What are you doing, Tracey?”
“You can’t kill it,” she said, stepping up to him.
