by David Meyer
But the thought was interrupted by other thoughts. Thoughts that had been pent-up behind a now-fading wall of carnal desire. Thoughts of Perkins and Zelton. Thoughts of Morgan and Savage Station. Thoughts of Corbotch and the mysterious Stage Three.
Mills must’ve experienced something similar because her giggles dried up. Her gleeful demeanor vanished into darkness. Silently, she pulled on her clothes. He did the same and together, they walked outside.
How was he going to find Savage Station? It could be anywhere within the massive Vallerio Forest. For a single crazy moment, he considered setting fire to one of the cabins. Maybe Corbotch’s drones would spot the smoke and send soldiers after him. Surely, they’d take him to Savage Station.
But he quickly dismissed the idea. It was one thing to endanger himself, something else to endanger Mills and Toland. He’d just have to find another way to locate Corbotch’s refuge.
Slight vibrations shot through the ground. Distant thumping and cracking filled the air.
Caplan ran to Toland’s cabin and threw open the door. “Time to go,” he shouted.
Toland, fully dressed, hustled outside and the three of them raced to the van. Caplan hopped into the driver’s seat and ignited the engine. Toland climbed into the passenger seat while Mills scrambled into the cargo area. But when she turned to close the back doors, she froze.
The steering wheel trembled in Caplan’s hands. Tree trunks splintered and cracked, louder than gunfire. Glancing backward, he saw a dust cloud roll through the forest. The dust was thick and frenzied. But he could still see through it, all the way to that giant, ungodly mass of heaving, shuddering flesh.
It was Dire. And it wasn’t just close.
It was almost on top of them.
“The doors,” he shouted.
Mills closed the rear doors. Caplan stomped on the gas pedal and twisted the wheel. The van shot across a stretch of dead grass. He thought about going for the open road, but knew they’d never make it. So, he said a silent prayer and aimed the vehicle at the tree line.
The van burst through a gap. Twisting the wheel, he directed the vehicle around a small rock patch and under a pair of crisscrossing, sagging elms.
A ferocious growl tore through the forest. Glimpsing the rearview mirror, he saw Dire burst into the clearing with the force of an unstoppable hurricane. Dust continued to surround it, vibrating in mid-air as if it had a life of its own.
Stuck with shoddy transportation, they wouldn’t make nightfall. Well, how do you want to go, Zach? he thought. Eaten alive? Crushed to death? Ahh, so many choices!
Dire pulled up in front of the campground. Its snout, long and narrow, lifted to the sun. A grotesque howl pierced the sky. It was raw and vicious and full of ancient rage.
A shudder ran through Caplan as he met its gaze in the rearview mirror. Staring into those swirling orange eyes was like staring into the depths of erupting volcanoes. Volcanoes that would, if they got too close, send him and his friends to an early grave.
The behemoth reared up on its hind legs. Then it raced across the campground, crunching through cabins like they were made out of toothpicks.
Caplan swerved around the thickest part of a fallen pine tree. The vehicle smashed over withered, lifeless branches, causing them to crackle like fireworks. But those noises were swiftly drowned out by the sound of smashing tree trunks.
The tires passed over a soft patch of dirt. Soil kicked up and pelted the windshield. He turned on the wipers. They helped, but the flying debris still limited his visibility.
“Faster.” Toland swiveled around in his seat and looked out the back windows. “Go faster, you dolt.”
Caplan furrowed his brow. He’d already avoided a half-dozen collisions by the skin of his teeth. If he drove any faster, he’d almost certainly wreck them into a tree.
Still, he shared Toland’s urgency. He could practically sense the creature. Sense its speed, its movements. It was almost as if a long-dormant sixth sense, desperate for self-preservation, had roared to life deep inside his brain.
He spun the wheel to his right and threaded the vehicle through a grove of pine trees. An image of the carved signboard filled his brain and he recalled the area’s local landmarks. There was a small clearing just ahead. If he continued past it, he’d reach Delta River. If he turned right, he’d be faced with a string of giant boulders. Left would take him to Pyre Peak. He didn’t know how much water still ran through the Delta. But even if it were bone dry, the channel would probably be too deep to cross. And those giant boulders made a right turn inadvisable. As for Pyre Peak, it was a non-starter. Sure, an old logging road led up its steep sides. But that road, according to what he’d read, was poorly maintained and bordered by steep cliffs.
Can’t run, he thought. So, we’ll hide.
He drove into the clearing and hit the brakes. Throwing the van into reverse, he twisted the wheel to the left. Swiftly, he backed the vehicle into a thick tree grove and cut the engine. The van fell still.
“Are you stupid?” Toland gave him a wide-eyed look. “You’re going to get us killed.”
“Be quiet.” He watched the dust cloud tear through the forest. Dirt and brown pine needles began to vibrate and swirl in rising circles. Wood gasped and cracked as trees collapsed to either side.
And then it appeared.
Surrounded by airborne debris, the thirty-foot tall behemoth looked like it was emerging from some kind of otherworldly portal. A portal that led to far-off lands and ancient ruins full of sinister magic. But no such luck. Dire was part of this time, this world. And nothing was going to change that.
Stepping into the clearing, Dire focused its gaze on the dark forest. Its neck twisted from right to left and back again.
Adrenaline raced through Caplan’s body, ready to restart the engine at a moment’s notice. Not that it would help much. Not when this behemoth, this terrifying amalgamation of ancient genes and human ingenuity, was so close.
He held his breath and stayed perfectly still. Dire towered above them, a living, breathing skyscraper with razor-sharp teeth. Ahh, those teeth. So sharp, so gigantic. After seeing what they’d done to Perkins, it wasn’t hard to imagine them stabbing through the roof, crunching into flesh and bone.
Dire glared into the dense forest. Ripples ran down its hide, causing its fur to shift and tremble. With a guttural growl, it twisted around.
And marched away.
Mills wiped beads of sweat from her forehead. “Nice thinking, Zach.”
“Don’t pat him on the back just yet,” Toland said. “Dire’s still looking for us.”
She looked at Caplan. “You saw that signboard, right? What else is around here?”
“There’s a river to the north,” he replied. “Boulders to the east. A mountain to the west. We won’t be able to get past any of it.”
“And we can’t go south either. Not with Dire hanging around.” She furrowed her brow in thought. “Do you remember any hiding places? Maybe a cave?”
He shook his head.
“So, we’re screwed.” Toland growled. “Nice job, Mr. Survival. First, you got Derek killed. Then you let James kidnap Amanda. Now, you’ve trapped us with a behemoth. You’re like a human wrecking ball.”
“And you’re a pompous jerk,” Mills retorted. “In case you didn’t notice, he saved us from Dire.”
A clump of trees exploded without warning. Chunks of wood crashed into the van, denting and piercing the sides.
Giant nostrils appeared in front of the windshield. Air vented through them, causing the glass to fog up.
Caplan’s heart pounded against his chest as the fog vanished. A pair of giant eyelids slid open. Lava-orange eyes, hotter than fire, met his gaze.
Toland shot Mills a sickly smirk. “You were saying?”
Chapter 23
Date: November 26, 2017, 9:39 a.m.; Location: North Maine Woods, ME
Caplan turned the key. The engine shuddered, but didn’t catch.
D
ire’s eyes opened wider and wider. So wide they looked like they’d pop right out of its head. Peeling its lips back, it bared its fangs. Drool dripped from its jaws and splashed against the glass.
He turned the key for a second time. The engine shuddered. Then it coughed and burst to life.
Reaching to the steering column, he flicked a switch. Bright beams shot out of the headlights and straight into Dire’s face. Growling, the behemoth twisted away.
Caplan stomped on the gas and the van shot beneath Dire’s massive head. On either side of him, he saw giant fur-covered legs, thick and rooted to the ground.
“Look out,” Toland shouted.
An enormous paw crashed into the soil, nearly striking the van. A harsh tremor shot through the vehicle, causing Caplan’s skull to rattle inside his head.
He twisted the wheel to the right. Another paw slammed into the ground directly in front of him and he wrenched the wheel back to the left.
Paws rained down on the soil as Dire spun in a circle. Caplan dodged right, left, left again, weaving a path through this ever-changing forest of limbs.
A paw struck the soil with thunderous force. Mills shouted and Caplan twisted the wheel to the right. The vehicle scraped up against a gigantic leg and the sudden jolt sent his body careening into his seatbelt. For a moment, he thought he’d lost control. But he managed to keep the wheel steady and the van shot out into open woods.
Almost immediately, he saw a tall, thick tree. Moss covered it and he saw numerous cracks in the wood.
“Turn, you dolt,” Toland shouted.
Caplan was a step ahead of him. The van rumbled over exposed roots and shot past the tree. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw Dire in fast pursuit, crashing through the dense, sickly forest with relative ease.
He wrenched the wheel, angling the vehicle to the right. Then he wrenched it back to the left. For the next few minutes, he drove in a zig-zag pattern, turning every time the behemoth got close. At first, this confused the creature. But soon, it figured out Caplan’s strategy and even began to anticipate it. To make matters worse, the forest grew thicker, denser.
“There’s an old logging road around here,” Caplan called out. “Find it.”
Toland peered out his side window. Mills knelt in the cargo area, her gaze sweeping the forest. “Over there,” she said, pointing to the left.
Twisting the wheel, he pressed hard on the gas. The vehicle shot up and over a hill. Its tires left the ground and then smacked it a second later. The jarring thud sent Mills crashing into the audio equipment.
Loud clatters, like pieces of metal repeatedly striking each other, filled the air. The steering wheel stiffened. Gritting his teeth, Caplan fought to control it. But it was like driving an over-sized bumper car and the van began to careen from side to side.
Somehow, he directed the vehicle onto the gravel road. Yanking the wheel, he straightened out the tires.
Mills peeled herself off of the floor. Twisting to the audio equipment, she began flipping switches and turning dials.
Dire raced toward a thick tree grove lining the road. Picking up speed, it dipped its head. Its shoulders slammed into the grove. The trees cracked and splintered. But somehow, they managed to hold firm.
Gnashing its teeth, Dire lunged at the van. Its saliva sprayed over the back window. But its jaws came up short.
Ahead, Caplan saw Pyre Peak, flanked to the southwest by the shorter Mount Gatlor. According to what he’d read, Pyre Peak carried an elevation north of four thousand feet. Thick woods, once prized by local logging companies, had formerly covered the landform. But now, the mountain looked barren.
“What’s up there?” Toland asked.
“An old fire tower,” Caplan replied. “Maybe some abandoned equipment, too.”
“Oh, that’s a big help,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Caplan knew the forest on either side was too dense for driving. And he couldn’t turn around, not with Dire on their tail. So, his only option was to keep following the gravel road up the mountainside and pray the behemoth didn’t care for heights. But could the van even handle the steep road? What if its steering failed? And what if Dire followed them up?
Quashing his doubts, he drove to the foot of Pyre Peak. Then he directed the vehicle over a large bump and up the steep road.
Dire smashed free of the grove. Leaping onto the road, it galloped across the gravel.
Caplan reached a hairpin turn, the first of many that awaited him. With one eye on Dire, he wrenched the steering wheel. The tires were sluggish, but still turned. Stepping on the gas, he continued up the mountainside.
Dire closed the gap and before long was within striking distance. Extending its jaws, it lunged at the van.
Caplan shifted the stiff wheel. The vehicle jolted to the left. Dire’s teeth chomped at empty air.
He drove around another hairpin turn. Looking out his window, he saw a thin metal rail lining the road. It was rusty and looked to be on its last legs. Past it, he saw the forest far beneath him. You’re being chased by a monster. Your vehicle barely functions and you’re racing up a mountainside. And oh, yeah, those barricades couldn’t stop a tricycle, let alone a van. He shook his head. What could possibly go wrong?
He continued to drive, forging a path up the increasingly precarious gravel road. Every time he approached a hairpin turn, he held his breath, wondering if the steering would hold up. So far, he’d been lucky. But his luck couldn’t last forever.
He roared around another hairpin turn. Checking the rearview mirror, he saw Dire chasing after them. Its eyes were fixed on the van and nothing else. Not the road, not the forest far below, not anything.
He raced to the next hairpin turn. At nearly one hundred and eighty-degrees, it was the tightest one yet.
The ground roiled as Dire thundered after them. Its eyes sparked with a gleam of triumph.
Fingers tensed, Caplan stared at the behemoth. He saw its rippling fur, its long snout, its lava-orange eyes.
Dire picked up speed. As it drew close, it lowered its dripping jaws back to the ground.
He reached the curve and wrenched the wheel. The van tipped to one side as it navigated the tight turn.
Metal squealed as Dire tore through the flimsy barricade. Desperately, it dug its claws into the ground. But it was too little, too late. Howling, the beast plunged off the cliff. A distant thump, accompanied by smashing wood, filled the night. The howling died off.
And then all was quiet.
Chapter 24
Date: November 26, 2017, 10:01 a.m.; Location: North Maine Woods, ME
Caplan pumped the brakes and the van slid to a halt. He wiped sweat from his visage, then sat perfectly still, inhaling and exhaling deep breaths. Despite the victory, adrenaline raced through his body. Was Dire really dead? Or had it survived the fall?
Wind careened against the van. Gravel skittered across the old road. The engine clattered softly. But he heard no growls, howls, or shrieks.
Releasing the brake, he directed the van in a half-circle. Then he parked the vehicle and popped his door open. Stepping outside, he walked to the edge of the cliff. Far below, he saw Dire trying to get up. But its left rear leg, swollen and misshapen, couldn’t support its weight and the behemoth crashed back to the soil.
Toland, looking rather pale under his scraggily gray beard, joined him at the cliff. “Well, we’re still alive,” he remarked. “No thanks to you.”
“I’ll take a lucky life over a skillful death any day.”
Mills walked out to join them. “Amanda was right,” she said. “The behemoths use infrasound.”
Caplan arched an eyebrow.
“I switched on the equipment during the chase. Dire was sending out signals the whole time. Not big ones, mind you. Small ones. And …” Her voice trailed off. When she spoke again, her tone reflected angry frustration. “Don’t look now, but we’ve got an audience.”
Caplan heard a distinct whining noise. Keepin
g his head level, he snuck a quick peek at the sky. A small metallic object hovered overhead.
“What’s that?” Toland asked.
“It’s a surveillance drone. It must’ve been tracking Dire.” Mills exhaled. “And us.”
The fierce wind relented. Caplan heard roaring engines and shifting gravel. Seconds later, a string of armored vehicles roared into his field of vision.
“Chenoa must’ve kept a team in the area in case we popped up again.” Caplan gritted his teeth. “Let’s go.”
As he ran back to the van, he shot a gaze at the summit. Like the rest of the mountain, it appeared devoid of trees. He did see the old fire tower, but that wouldn’t offer much in the way of hiding spots. Making matters worse, the road was the summit’s sole access point. Fleeing to the top, in other words, was just delaying the inevitable.
The armored vehicles reached the mountainside and began scaling Pyre Peak. Meanwhile, Caplan hopped into the front seat. His only option was to backtrack, to slip past the oncoming vehicles. At least the ground, in contrast to the summit, wasn’t a dead-end.
He turned the ignition. It shuddered, but didn’t catch. He turned it again. And again. But it refused to catch.
Two armored vehicles slid around the last hairpin turn and came to a halt. Doors cracked open. Soldiers piled outside. A bunch of guns—including a bazooka—swung toward the van.
Chenoa Roberts emerged from a vehicle. The wind swept her hair back and rippled her long, red cloak. Undaunted, she stepped forward.
Caplan rolled down his window and stuck his head outside. The cold wind blistered his face. “Say, did you guys lose a wolf?” he called out. “Because I think we found it.”
“Very funny. Now, take a look around. You’re trapped. Step out of the van. Place your weapons on the ground, then kiss the gravel. Oh, and pray.” Her lip curled at the edge. “Pray I let you live.”
Chapter 25
Date: November 26, 2017, 10:15 a.m.; Location: North Maine Woods, ME
