FULL MOON COUNTRY (FULL MOON SERIES (vol. 2))

by Terry Yates

  It was the claws that grew out of their paws/hands that gave the men pause. They were six to eight inches long and seemed to gleam under the moonlight. The tips of each claw curved slightly inwards, allowing for a better grip once they had grabbed hold of their prey.

  “Oh shit…” Jackie said softly, too scared to look the things in the eye, but also too scared to look away.

  “What in the hell…” Scott muttered back, his words trailing off.

  The two creatures continue to growl at them. The men now saw that the their ears were no longer standing straight up, but were now pressed flat against the sides of their heads, telling all four of them that these creatures were extremely pissed.

  “God damn…what are they, Scott?” Mike squeaked. He was so afraid that his knees were knocking together, and he could almost swear that he could feel warm fluid running down his leg, but he was too petrified to look away and check.

  “I don’t know,” Scott answered, “but they sure looked pissed.”

  “I’d be pissed too if four Texas boys shot ten rounds of shells at me,” Jerry Don threw in.

  “How’d we miss ‘em?” Mike asked.

  “I don’t know,” Scott answered back, “but they’re right on top of us now. I say we send whatever vile creatures these are straight to Hell. We could make us a fortune if we carried their carcasses back with us.”

  “Ya’ wanna shoot ‘em?” Jerry Don asked.

  “I don’t think they’re givin’ us much of a choice, Jerry Don. By the looks of ‘em, they wanna kill us…and badly.”

  “So, we’re gonna shoot then?”

  “I think we have to. Everybody ready?”

  The four slowly raised their guns, each trying hard to draw a bead on the beasts, but each having trouble because of the abject fear shooting through each one of them. The creatures, on the other hand, showed no fear at all, but continued to stand still and snarl at the men.

  “Now!” Scott screamed, pulling the trigger of his rifle before anyone else was even ready. The bullet found its mark, piercing the chest of the smaller one. The shorter beast yelped as the bullet penetrated its chest. The projectile knocked the creature backwards two steps, but then it stopped, put a hand/paw against its chest and then slowly, angrily, looked back at Scott. As angry as the smaller one looked, it was the larger creature that scared the men shitless. Its snarl became louder while its mouth seemed to open even wider if that was possible.

  “Oh Goddamn,” Scott rasped, “Oh Goddamn.”

  “That biggun’s pissed,” Jerry Don said.

  “Much thanks for that, Jerry Don,” Scott quipped back.

  “I think the littlun’ is the biggun’s mate.”

  “And much thanks for that, too.”

  “C’mon, Guys, let’s do somethin’,” Jackie told them, his voice quivering.

  “We got no choice,” Scott answered. “Shoot ‘em’!

  The four men raised their rifles, but none got off a shot because the larger of the two creatures was on Mike Mercer before he even got his gun to chin level. It opened its mouth, turned its head sideways, and bit into Mike’s face before he could even utter a sound. The others looked on in horror as Mike’s face was being crushed like an aluminum beer can. The sound of bones crunching and skin tearing just two feet from where the others stood caused Scott and Jackie to panic. Both raised their rifles and began firing at the beast, Jackie’s gun just inches from Scott’s and both guns right in the beast’s face. They each got off a round, one of the bullets almost blowing the creatures cheek in two. It roared in pain, dropping Mike’s lifeless and faceless corpse to the ground. It turned toward Scott and Jackie, it’s yellow eyes wide, the pupils almost in slits. The side of its face seemed to be missing, but instead of falling in a dead heap on the ground, the thing reached one arm back and tried to swat them. Either through fear or just speed, the two men jumped backwards and sent another round into the beast, one bullet hitting it in the neck and the other into its shoulder. Bits of fur, bone, and blood splattered the men but they continued to fire on it.

  “Aim for the eyes! Aim for the eyes!” Scott screamed.

  Both men continued to fire at the creature. Jerry Don, on the other hand, was not firing at the creature, because he was in a game of stare-down with the smaller of the two monsters. The two were close in height and weight, Jerry Don giving up a couple of inches but not many pounds.

  “I ain’t afraid of you, Bitch,” Jerry Don told the smaller one. His voice was low and casual as it always was when Jerry Don Hill was about to get into a scrap. “I ain’t gonna run away…especially from no woman.”

  The beast roared, baring every tooth. Not to be outdone, Jerry Done let out a roar of his own, attempting to show every tooth that he had. For a moment, the two remained still. Then, as if someone had rung a boxing match bell, the two ran straight at each other, both growling and snarling. The two adversaries collided into one another, each letting out a loud grunt as they did. Jerry Don and the monster immediately began to punch, scratch, and bite each other. Jerry Don wrapped his massive tree trunk sized forearms around the creature’s waist and tried to snap the thing’s back, while the beast dug its claws into Jerry Don’s back. Jerry Don grunted, but didn’t scream as he felt his skin tear into ribbons. The creature opened its mouth, bit into to the large man’s cheek and pulled most of it away, grunting as the skin and blood poured into its mouth. Not to be outdone, Jerry Don opened his mouth and bit down on the thing’s ear attempting to bite it off. The beast howled in agony as Jerry Don gnashed and pulled and yanked until he severed the top half of its ear. He screamed in triumph as he spit it out into the night air.

  The two continued to bite and claw and tear at each other while Scott and Jackie sent bullet after bullet into the larger beast whose face and upper torso seemed almost blown apart from all of the 30/30 projectiles. The two held the thing at bay until the men no longer had any shells to pump into the creature.

  “I’m out of…” Jackie started, but he didn’t get to finish, because the beast slapped away his empty rifle, dug both claws into each of the man’s shoulders, and then lifted him up off of the ground.

  “Help me, Scott!” he screamed in agony.

  But Scott wasn’t helping. All he could do was watch as the thing sank its fangs into Jackie’s throat. His scream was stifled as the thing severed his vocal chords. Jackie could only gurgle as the beast tore his throat out and chewed greedily. Scott turned to run. On the ground, he saw the she-beast and Jerry Don. The creature was lying on top of the big man. Jerry Don had held his own with the creature and was still doing so, but he was losing the battle. The she-beast had simply caused too much damage. Half of his face was missing and a large chunk of his chest was gone. He had lost too much blood and was growing weaker, but he wasn’t going down without a fight. As the creature tried to bite him, Jerry Don had both thumbs jammed into each of the she-beast’s eyes.

  Scott had neither the time, nor the inclination, to help Jerry Don Hill. He was in panic mode, running around the pair and into the woods. He could hear both his breath and his heart as he sprinted through the woods trying to skirt the trees, but the forest was thick and the trees were close together. He hit his shoulder hard against a large tree as he ran past it. Pain shot through his shoulder, but he wasn’t slowing down. He dodged tree after tree in the pitch-black forest. He ran blindly, his only goal being to put as much distance as he could between himself and the two creatures.

  As he ran, he could hear something running behind him. Something small. It didn’t sound like a rabbit or squirrel. They zigzagged when they ran. This sounded more like a small dog. It sounded like it was loping, like a dog would do, or a fox…or a wolf. Whatever was behind him was getting closer. Scott heard a growling sound, but it wasn’t deep and guttural like he had heard from the monsters back at the camp, it was higher. It almost sounded like a puppy. Screw it, he thought. The thing was doing exactly what he himself was doing. Running for dear life.
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br />   Scott heard Jerry Don screaming in the distance. It had finally bested the man…or they had finally bested the man. Either way, he was on his own now…running…running like he had hadn’t done since he was a kid after stealing water melons from Old Man Abron’s patch and getting chased with a scatter gun filled with rock salt.

  Scott continued to run, twice more hitting his already tender shoulder against trees. He had been running for three solid minutes. He needed to rest. His shoulder was hurting, he had a stitch in his side, and his heart was about to pound out of his chest.

  When he thought that he was far enough away, he began to slow to a trot, and then finally, a walk. He dropped to his knees and slowly crawled to a tree where he sat down, his back against the tree trunk. He gasped for air as he closed his eyes and rested his head against the tree. What were they? What had just killed and probably devoured his three childhood mates?

  Scott’s breaths came in short, quick rasps now. He was starting to hyperventilate. It felt like his heart was pounding out of his chest. He put his hand over his mouth trying to muffle his gasps, but it wasn’t working. With his hands over his mouth, the gasps stopped sounding like gasps, and started sounding like grunts, so he took his hand away. Those things might be looking for him, even though Jerry Don alone would’ve filled up three of them. Mike and Jackie would just be the cherry on the sundae.

  He rolled his head against the tree trunk, his cap falling off and landing on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe through his nose. He put his hand to his shoulder. It hurt like hell but he wasn’t going to worry about it. He needed to hide in case those things came looking for him.

  Scott opened his eyes. His breathing was slowing down and his chest stopped pounding against his breastbone. He had to do something now while it was still dark. He had to hide somewhere.

  Scott looked to his right. He saw several small fallen trees, each lying haphazardly on top of one another. He scrambled on his hands and knees to the trees and crawled underneath the pile, wedging himself between them. He sat up in the middle of the pile, which afforded him some camouflage, while at the same time, allowed him to see from the inside out. If he had been eight years old, this would’ve been a great fort.

  Scott’s quick breathing had completely subsided. Thank God for that, he thought to himself. He shifted his butt around trying to get as comfortable as he could. Leaves rustled loudly underneath him. He lifted it completely off of the ground, reached underneath his butt and quickly swept the leaves out from under him. He didn’t want to those things hearing the dry leaves and twigs rustling about.

  Sweat poured down his face and down his neck. He could also feel it running down his chest and onto his stomach. A small stream seeped into his navel. Now that he was no longer hyperventilating, he had a chance to think. Although he was still panic-stricken, he was able to get some sort of thought process going. What were those things? The only thing that his redneck brain could come up with is that they were a couple of Bigfoots. What else could they be? Even though all of the pictures, films, and eyewitness accounts said that they had faces like human beings, these things looked more like dogs…or wolves. Maybe they were some type of dog/bear hybrid. He didn’t know and he didn’t care at that particular moment in time. He just wanted to get out of those woods with his skin and innards intact.

  Minutes seemed like hours as he sat in his hiding place. At first, he thought that trying to sneak back to the trucks in the dark was the smartest thing to do, but he thought better of it. He had seen those bright, fiery, yellow eyes, and they looked like they were made for seeing in the dark. No, he was going to wait until daylight if at all possible. They had the advantage tonight because they could see. The odds would be even tomorrow when the sun rose, and he could see them as easily as they could see him tonight. At sunrise, he would make his way slowly back to the camp by moving slowly back up the hill. He would move from one big tree to another, or from one dense area to another, stop and hide if he had to, and then get to his Dodge truck and well…get out of Dodge.

  Just as he was about to swat a mosquito that had landed on his neck, he heard a noise coming from the direction of the campsite. It was someone…or something…walking down the hill. Tree limbs snapped loudly and leaves crackled under heavy feet as Scott lowered his head at the center of where the three fallen trees came together. He held his breath as he peeked through the camouflage.

  The footsteps were getting closer. They couldn’t be more than a couple of hundred feet away. As they got nearer, he could hear grunting and low growling. It was the two creatures. It had to be. Scott instinctively lowered his head trying to completely camouflage his face from the beasts. He could feel his heart starting to beat loudly again, pounding in a rhythm that reminded him of every old horror movie that he’d ever seen.

  The creatures drew nearer, no more than fifty feet now. Scott squeezed his eyes as tightly shut as he possibly could and put his hand over his mouth. The things were almost on top of him. Twenty feet…fifteen feet…ten feet! Scott put his other hand over his mouth as the monsters began to approach. A few seconds later, they were right next to him. As they moved passed, their grunts and snarls became louder. They were leaving in their wake, a pungent odor like the smell of rotting carcasses mixed with an aroma that reminded Scott of trash dumps or landfills…that mixture of rancid meat, coffee grinds, shit, and dead rats.

  He managed the courage to open one eye. The creatures were both limping. Under the moonlight, he could see that the taller one was guiding the she-beast like a person would guide a blind man. Something was wrong with its eyes. Jerry Don must’ve blinded it when he stuck his thumbs in its eyes. Scott wasn’t sure but it looked as if the taller one had flaps of loose skin and God knew what else hanging off its jowls. He almost smiled at the thought of his buddies putting up such a fight, but it didn’t last long, because just as the monsters were disappearing into a thicket, the shorter one stopped and stuck its nose into the air. The larger one stopped and looked at its mate, who was now sniffing the air. Had she caught his scent? Scott knew that most animals had a keen sense of smell. That’s why they used dogs to sniff out drugs, bombs, and cadavers. The she-beast continued to sniff the air while the second one stuck its nose into the air and tried to do the same, but seemed to be having trouble because of the damage done to its face.

  Scott sat statue like. He didn’t move a muscle…he didn’t even blink. Sweat continued to pour down his face and body, and he could feel mosquitoes landing all over him, but he still refused to move a single, solitary muscle. He watched as the she-beast continued to sniff. After a moment, the male…Scott guessed that it was a male…grunted and snarled, and seemed to gently push the she-beast forward, who growled once before acquiescing to her mate. She lowered her head and turned back around as the male gently began to guide her away.

  Scott let out a small sigh as the two disappeared into the thicket. He continued to remain still until he could no longer hear their footfalls. He heard one last snort and then silence. He waited another five minutes before deciding to leave. When he was sure that they weren’t coming back, he began to crawl out from under his hiding place. He moved on his belly as he crawled out from under the brush. As he made his way out of the small lean-to, he rolled over onto his back and began to slide backwards, using his heels and his hips as leverage.

  He had cleared half the brush when he felt a weight suddenly come down upon the fallen trees. Whatever it was, it wasn’t heavy. It almost felt like someone was trying to hold the brush down with his hands. Scott lay still for a moment, more puzzled than afraid. There was nothing for a moment, but just as Scott was about to slide the rest of the way out of the brush, something began to move on top of it. Whatever had fallen on top of the trees was alive. It was climbing over the limbs toward where Scott lay. It was too dark for him to see what it was, but he knew it was some type of animal. He could hear a hissing sound coming from it as slowly crept toward him. It almost sounded
like a panting puppy.

  Scott froze. Shit, what was he afraid of? He knew it wasn’t a bear or even one of those things that had just walked by him. It felt and sounded as if it was the size of a raccoon or a badger.

  Scott started slowly easing his way out. He sat up and was starting to pull his legs all the way out, when the pile stopped moving. He looked up and saw nothing at first, but the bright orange moon. Because of its brightness, Scott’s eyes had to re-adjust to the dark. He looked up at the top of the pile. He didn’t see it at first, but after a moment, he saw what had been moving around above him. Something was silhouetted against the moon. It was small, with a round head…like a baby’s…only it wasn’t a baby’s because there were small, pointed ears sticking up from the side of its head. What looked to be fuzz grew from the head. He couldn’t see the face, but he could see that it was lying on its stomach, its rump stuck up in the air like a dog will do when it wants to play. And then he saw the eyes…the same yellow eyes…those god damned yellow eyes…that the other two had.

  “Oh Christ!” Scott shrieked.

  The thing began to crawl down the pile toward him. As it neared him, Scott saw that it was crawling almost straight down. He froze as the small creature stopped at the edge of the pile and looked down at him.

  Scott felt a warm trickle moving down his left leg as the beast raised its head toward the moon and howled an ear-piercing high pitched howl. He wasn’t sure if it was the howl or the tiny, sharp fangs that he saw glimmer under the moonlight, that made his bladder go. Terror had completely gripped him. Somehow this monster frightened Scott just as much as its mama and papa had in the camp.

  The yellow eyes continued to look down at Scott. It didn’t look at him with the angry eyes that the two grown ones had, but more like a kitten that watches a small insect scurrying around in front of it.

  Scott began to slowly slide backwards on his butt, trying to clear his legs from the brush. He moved by inches, trying not to make any sudden movements that might startle the thing. His only hope was that he could clear the pile of trees and take off running for the camp and the trucks. He looked down at his legs, and slowly scooted another couple of inches. A little more, he thought…a little more. He heard a rustling above him, and looked up to see that the beast was no longer lying in a crouched position. It was standing up. Scott could see that its body was just like that of an infant’s. It had a chubby stomach with little nipples and fat little arms. The only problem was that it was covered with the same fuzz that sat atop its head. The dark face was also that of an infant’s, but with dog-ears and fuzz on its face that almost made it appear to have a small beard. It was standing at an angle like someone who keeps their legs straight while trying to touch their nose to the ground. He looked down at the thing’s feet to see why it was able to stand at such an odd angle. What he saw were claws…long, sharp claws that curved around the tree limbs allowing it to stand up straight. It wobbled like a baby did when a parent tried to stand it straight up by the arms. He also saw sharp claws, probably two to three inches long extending from what would normally be its hands, but this thing had padded hands. Part hand, part paw.