Getting up from behind her desk, Sheriff Wallace leaned over it, palms pressed down onto its top. “Tell him I am on my way.”
Lindsey darted away to what she had been told as Sheriff Wallace fished the key to station’s gun locker from the pocket of her uniform and started through the building to it. Taking out an AR-15, an extra shotgun for her car, and several magazines for the rifle, she slung the rifle onto her shoulder after making sure it was loaded and carried the shotgun in her hands. Lindsey gawked at her as Sheriff Wallace hurried passed her desk, heading out of the station.
****
The siren of Cato’s patrol car blared and its tires screeched as he pulled into the parking lot outside of Higdon’s Supermarket. There were panicked people running everywhere. Most of them were racing for their cars but others were just running wildly in an attempt to flee the scene. He could see that whatever was happening was centered just inside the supermarket entrance. Leaping out of his car, Cato rushed around to open its trunk and get out the shotgun tucked away there.
A black-haired woman in her early 30s nearly tackled him, grabbing hold of him by the front of his uniform. “Thank God you’re here! There’s a monster in there killing people!”
Cato as gently as he could given the circumstances freed himself from her grip, shoving her off of him. “You need to calm down, ma’am. Get to your car and get out of here. I’ve got this.”
The woman stared at him for a second as if trying to process what he had told her then nodded sharply, darting away across the parking lot. Cato watched her go as he pumped a round into his shotgun’s chamber. He turned his attention to the front of the store as a man Cato thought he recognized as Glen Johnson, the store’s manager, came crashing through the glass window there. Johnson was clearly dead even as his body bounced into the parking lot. There were screams coming from inside the store and something within it roared.
Deputy Cato sprinted toward the store’s entrance as something came walking out of it. The creature that emerged from the doorway, walking straight through it as the glass of the door shattered, stood over eight feet tall. Its eyes were a feral shade of yellow as the thing’s overly long arms hung at its sides. The fingers of its hands were tipped with razor-like claws. Brown hair covered every inch of the creature. Cato knew it was a Sasquatch. He had been right about the creatures being real all along. That fact brought him no comfort as he gawked in a mixture of shock and awe at the monster before him.
Swinging the barrel of his shotgun up, Cato squeezed the weapon’s trigger. It bucked in his grasp as it thundered. His shot doubled the Sasquatch over, catching it right in its stomach. The Sasquatch gave a grunt of pain as it raised itself up. The blast from the shotgun had opened a wound of mangled flesh and blood-slicked hair through which poked several strands of the Sasquatch’s intestines. Cato pumped another round into the shotgun’s chamber as the Sasquatch roared and charged him. Aiming for the monster’s face, Cato fired again. The shotgun’s second blast collapsed the Sasquatch’s nose inward as it tore apart its cheeks and mouth. Spitting blood and teeth, the monster staggered sideways, its fury forgotten. Cato knew he couldn’t allow the thing to recover. He could see it wasn’t out of the fight yet despite the damage he had done to it. Pressing his attack, Cato forced himself to take a step closer to the reeling monster and shot it a third time. The blast ripped into the Sasquatch’s side, further opening up its stomach. Strands of intestines poured from its guts onto the asphalt of the parking lot as the Sasquatch dropped to one knee. It lashed out at him as Cato continued to draw closer to it. The claws of its hand sliced through the air but Cato saw them coming and was able to backpedal out of their reach as he readied a fourth shot. It struck the monster in the side of its neck. Blood sprayed out of the mess left in the heavy slug’s wake as the Sasquatch slapped a hand up to cover the wound. Then, finally, the Sasquatch toppled the rest of the way to the asphalt and lay there as a puddle of red grew outward from its corpse.
Cato’s breath came in ragged gasps and sweat slicked his hair and skin as he tried to make himself calm down. He was still staring at the Sasquatch’s corpse as people began to emerge from inside the store and approach him where he stood with his smoking shotgun in his hands.
“What the heck is that thing?” Cato heard someone asked.
“It’s a Sasquatch,” he answered without taking his eyes off the dead monster.
There were murmurs of disbelief and anger shouting all around him as Deputy Cato tried to figure out what to do next. A rather bold redneck man dressed in red flannel shoved him.
“What do you mean? That thing’s a Bigfoot?” the redneck pressed him.
“Back off before I haul you in for assaulting an officer,” Cato warned the redneck.
Getting his confidence back, Deputy Cato looked about at the gathering crowd from the parking lot and inside the store.
“I need all of you to get in your cars and head home,” Cato shouted. “This is a crime scene and the sheriff is going to need you out of her way.”
“But… But … Mr. Johnson…” one of the store’s employees started.
“I will take care of him,” Cato said loud enough for everyone around him to hear. “Is anyone else hurt?”
“There are more dead folks inside,” one woman spoke up.
“That thing came tearing in through the loading dock,” a more senior-looking employee of the store told him. “It killed Derrick in the back and several customers on its way out here as Mr. Johnson was trying to stop it.”
Cato nodded. “I’ll take care of them too. Now, everyone, clear out of here!”
As the crowd began to thin out with folks getting into their vehicles and driving away, Deputy Cato walked over to his patrol car, plopping into its driver’s seat. He picked up the car’s radio to report what happened into Lindsey at the station.
****
Sheriff Wallace slowed her patrol car and thanked God that she hadn’t had her siren on as Joe’s Diner came into view along the road ahead of her. The diner was burning. Fires danced upward in the growing twilight. In front of the burning diner were creatures like monsters straight out of a nightmare. They were beast-like things that moved about on two legs. Brown hair covered their bodies and their yellow eyes burned in the dying rays of the setting sun. Some of them were simply wandering about the diner’s parking lot. Others appeared to be eating the bodies of several corpses that the things had to have dragged out of the diner before the building was engulfed in flames. It was all so surreal, like a horror movie come to life. She brought her car to a complete stop and killed its engine in fear that noise from it would attract the attention of the beasts. So far, the noise of the fire seemed to have kept the things from hearing it. Sheriff Wallace’s car was still a good distance from the burning diner. With a start, she realized the car’s headlights were on too and quickly shut them off.
Most of the cars parked outside the diner looked to have been attacked where they sat. Their hoods were smashed in. Some had shattered forward windshields and collapsed roofs. Others had their doors torn away. One of the cars was on fire and she knew it likely wouldn’t be long until its gas tank went up. There was nothing she could do to help Joe or any of the others at the diner. From how things looked, they were all dead. She counted five of the great beasts total around the burning building and in its parking lot. The odds were too much against her for Sheriff Wallace to even consider getting out and going after them with the AR-15 she had brought with her. The creatures were heavily muscled and she could see the gleaming claws of their hands. No. Attacking them alone would be suicide.
Sheriff Wallace jumped, nearly losing control of her bladder, as Lindsey’s voice rang out over the patrol car’s radio. She snatched it up, desperately trying to silence the voice coming over it.
“Quiet,” Sheriff Wallace rasped at Lindsey. The dispatcher shut up instantly.
“Lindsey, I am staring at proof that Cato was right about the killings being committed by Sa
squatch. The things are real,” Sheriff Wallace whispered. “And there’s more than one of them.”
Sheriff Wallace heard Lindsey mutter something that she couldn’t quite make out. When Lindsey spoke again, her voice was little more than a whisper over the radio.
“That’s why I was trying to contact you, ma’am,” Lindsey said. “I have calls still coming in from all over town and most of the callers keep talking about monsters. It’s like the whole town has gone crazy, ma’am.”
“Any word from the others?” Sheriff Wallace asked.
“Holcomb still hasn’t reported in. Sharps has gone silent too,” Lindsey answered. “Cato reported in to say he had killed a Sasquatch over at the supermarket and was on scene with Larry and Southard getting things squared away there. He requested your presence on site as soon as possible.”
“Well, he’s going to have to wait,” Sheriff Wallace snorted. “What about Fisher?”
“I sent him out to answer a call on the other side of town from where you are, ma’am,” Lindsey said with concern in her voice. Sheriff Wallace knew Lindsey was sweet on the newbie. She was almost surprised that Lindsey hadn’t called him back to the station just to keep him out of harm’s way until he could join up with a more experienced deputy.
“Lindsey, I want you to listen to me very carefully right now, okay?” Sheriff Wallace said. “You need to get in touch with whoever it takes and get a National Guard unit deployed out here as soon as they can mobilize.”
“Copy that,” Lindsey answered. “I’ll get right on it but what about—?”
“Everything else can wait,” Sheriff Wallace ordered. “We can’t face this alone and if those Guard boys don’t make it out here soon, there isn’t going to be much of a town left for them to come save. I will head back to the station myself as soon as I can. Wallace, out.”
Sheriff Wallace set down the radio. During her entire hushed conversation with Lindsey, she hadn’t taken her eyes off the Sasquatch outside the diner and in its parking lot. Sheriff Wallace felt like she needed to do something to avenge the poor people the monsters had torn apart and were eating. Without backup though…what could she do? Attacking the things here and now would only get her killed. Her right hand found the keys in the patrol car’s ignition and clutched them tightly. In order to get away, she had to crank up the car. The second she did, if the things heard her, they would be coming her way. There wasn’t any other choice though unless she wanted to walk back to the station. She turned the key in the ignition.
It wasn’t the sound that drew the beasts to her though. One of the Sasquatch at the parking lot’s edge finally spotted her car on the road. Shrieking, the Sasquatch came running in her direction, the others following it. Sheriff Wallace threw the car into reverse and swung it around. Doing so cost her time she didn’t have. The car shot forward as she switched gears and floored the gas too late. The Sasquatch that had spotted her had already closed the distance to the car. The thing had to be moving around 45 miles an hour as it leaped to grab the patrol car’s rear. For a brief moment, the tires spun on the road, burning rubber as the beast strained to hold it in place. As strong as the great beast was though, the car pulled free of it. The beast reeled backward as the car took off along the road. The other beasts came bounding passed the one that had tried to stop her. The patrol car was picking up speed but not fast enough. One of the beasts caught up to it on the passenger side. Lashing out with a clenched fist, the beast slammed it into the car’s side, denting the metal there and shattering the rear passenger window. Shards of glass exploded into the car like shrapnel. Sheriff Wallace grunted and gritted her teeth as a shard pierced the flesh on the back of her neck. The wound was a minor one but it stole her attention from what was ahead of her. She failed to make the turn around the bend in the road. The patrol car bounced off the road and plowed into a tree. Its hood folded up as Sheriff Wallace was flung into the steering wheel. Sheriff Wallace felt several of her ribs snap as she hit it. The car’s forward window cracked but didn’t shatter from the impact. She bounced back against her seat and sat there stunned as the beasts closed in around the patrol car. Grabbing up the AR-15 in the seat next to her, she brought the weapon around at the Sasquatch that ripped away the patrol car’s door, catching the monster completely by surprise. The AR-15 chattered, hosing the beast with a spray of rounds that sent it staggering backward, blood erupting from its chest as they hammered into it. The beast shrieked in pain as Sheriff Wallace held the weapon’s trigger tight, emptying her entire magazine. Sheriff Wallace hurled herself out of the car as the blood-covered Sasquatch collapsed to the ground. She popped her spent magazine, fishing a fresh one from the pocket of her jacket. Ramming the magazine home, she heard one of the great beasts snarl as its claws swiped through the air at her. Sheriff Wallace threw herself sideways, narrowly avoiding its swing. Her breath caught from the pain of her injured ribs. It took intense effort not to fall herself but she managed to bring the barrel of the AR around at the Sasquatch that had attacked her. The AR roared, spitting spent shell casings as Sheriff Wallace fired a burst directly into the Sasquatch’s face. Bullets ripped and tore at the monster’s cheeks, lips, and nose. The Sasquatch squealed, turning away from her, but she kept firing at the beast. Her AR tore a line of jagged flesh along its upper back. Leaving a trail of red behind it, the Sasquatch bolted away from her, heading for the trees as her AR clicked empty again. Sheriff Wallace tossed the rifle aside as another of the Sasquatch charged her and she drew her pistol. The Sasquatch smashed into her like a runaway 18-wheeler, lifting her up from the ground with the force of the impact. Sheriff Wallace landed several feet away, grunting as she came down hard on her right arm and felt it break beneath the weight of her body. Her pistol went bouncing out of her grasp, vanishing in the tall grass.
Sheriff Wallace cradled her broken arm to her chest. It wasn’t the Sasquatch that had knocked her from her feet that yanked Sheriff Wallace up from where she lay but another one of the monsters. Snapping the bone of her other arm effortlessly, the Sasquatch held her above the ground by the front of her uniform. Sheriff Wallace swung up her right leg, managing to kick the thing in the chin, snapping its mouth closed. The Sasquatch raked its claws over the front of her body, tearing away one of her breasts and opening her chest in the process. As she looked down at the wound, Sheriff Wallace could see the white of her own rib bones. Her head was swimming from the shock and pain as the monster dropped her onto the ground. She tried to get up and failed, collapsing back into the grass at the Sasquatch’s feet. Sheriff Wallace kept a Glock 43 strapped to her ankle. Her deputies had also given her grief over it but right now, she was thankful for the extra weapon. Fumbling the small gun out of its holster, Sheriff Wallace fired it point blank into the Sasquatch’s lower legs. The rounds tore at the Sasquatch’s flesh, staining the hair covering them red as the bullets dug into its shins. The Sasquatch roared in anger and pain, bringing a fist down that impacted with the top of Sheriff Wallace’s skull, caving in its top. Her eyes popped out of their sockets in sprays of blood as brain matter splashed and bone fragments burst outward from the sides of her head. Sheriff Wallace’s corpse toppled over into the grass as the Sasquatch reached down to rub at the blood slicking its injured legs.
****
The three trucks roared along the road toward the town of Canton. Each of the trucks contained a dozen fully armed National Guardsmen in addition to their drivers and the officers that rode up front with them. Private Evans couldn’t believe any of it was happening as he double-checked his M-16 to make sure it was ready for action. Sergeant Dickerson hadn’t told them exactly what they were headed into but whatever it was, it had to be bad because everyone was issued live rounds and told to be prepared for combat. Whatever was going on wasn’t just some disaster or civil unrest. Evans looked across the rear of the truck he rode in at Private Gabriel. Gabriel was grinning ear to ear. His grin tightened up into a smirk as he noticed Evans’ staring at him.
“
What the frag is happening in Canton that they are sending us in like this?” another guardsman named Smith asked.
“From the way the sarge is acting, you would think we’re going to war,” Private Motter commented.
“We are, gents. We surely are,” Private Dolan told them all. “Think about it. Lives rounds, a mad rush to get there… We’re riding into Hell. No doubt about it.”
“Ah, come on, man!” Private Motter shot back at him. “We’re on American soil. Ain’t no way we’re heading into anything as bad as the Sand Box.”
“Like you would know,” Private First Class Hyatt said. “I was over there, kid. You better pray whatever we are rolling into isn’t anything like that.”
Hyatt was a veteran from the real Army, not just another part-timer like so many of the guardsmen in the rear of the truck were. Most of them looked to him for guidance and truly respected the big man. And a big man he was. Hyatt stood 6”6’ with a body built like a brick wall.
“Anybody know anything at all about what we’re going into? I mean seriously?” Specialist Lancaster asked.
“You outrank the rest of us here,” Dolan said. “If anyone would know, it’s you, ma’am.”
“Hell…” Hyatt grumbled. “The kid’s got a point, Lancaster. You outrank the sarge. What are you doing slumming it up back here with us anyway?”
“Thought it would be fun to get into the action for a change, I guess,” Lancaster said with a laugh.
Private Evans had a giant-sized crush on Lancaster and did his best to not to show it. The woman was his definition of beautiful despite the scar that marked her right cheek from where a bomb she had been working on had gone off and she hadn’t found cover in time. Her eyes were like oceans of blue that sharply contrasted the fire of her cropped short red hair, strands of which poked out from beneath the bottom of her helmet. And her body…made his mouth water. She was thin but not overly so and just as, if not more, in shape than any of them except Hyatt. Private Evans forced himself to look away from her.
The Guard Page 3
