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The Razor tore through the woods in pursuit of the creature. Craig holstered his .45 and made sure that the SKS was secure before moving too far. He had plenty of ammo and still had a few other guns strapped down in the back seat. He thought he saw the beast in the headlights for a quick moment and he hit the gas harder. It wasn’t far away, but he needed to be closer to it if he wanted to get a good shot at it. The ATV bounced over rocks and small trees with little effort. The snow coming down was his only hindrance and he wasn’t able to see as far as he would’ve liked. When he came over a small incline, he saw the trail that ran perpendicular to his current direction and he turned the wheel sharply. He knew the direction the creature was running and he knew that at this point in the trail he could circle back around and intersect the beast’s path only a few hundred yards away. He could cut it off and end this thing!
Craig hit the gas and the Razor ripped through the deepening snow down the trail. It was getting extremely cold, but Craig never noticed as the adrenaline was still coursing through his veins. He had a great sense of direction and knew when the trail had turned the way he wanted it to. He came to a sliding halt, grabbed the pistol out of its shoulder holster and aimed the spotlight beam through the woods.
“There you are!” he shouted when he finally saw movement.
It looked as if the creature was trying to slide around behind him now. Craig let go of the spotlight handle, hit the gas and shot off toward the creature. The right wheel of the ATV unexpectedly hit a rock hidden by the snow and jolted the vehicle harshly. Craig lost sight of the creature for a split second and when he looked back up, it was gone. He nervously looked around the area with the search light in one hand and his pistol in the other. He knew there was nothing worse than a wounded animal. The beast would either put up a ferocious fight or flee. So far, it showed signs of doing both! It was completely unpredictable. He thought he heard something and he spun the light back around to the side, but it was too late. The beast had somehow gotten around to the side of the ATV and slammed its huge arms down on top of it with a crazed ferocity. The screaming and growling was deafening as the beast rained its fury down on the ATV, trying to destroy it and the man inside!
Craig tried aiming his pistol at the creature, but the gun slipped from his grasp due to the bombardment the huge brute was doing to the machine. He bent down, reaching for the gun, but the seat belt harness kept him from it. In a panic, he unlatched the harness and jumped across the console away from the beast. He was able to retrieve his pistol as he scrambled into the floor-board of the ATV. In his attempt to clear the console, his knee hit the switch and killed the engine. His arms were pinned beneath him, but he managed to roll onto his side just enough to bring the pistol to bear on the beast and empty the clip. The creature fell back away from the Razor into the darkness allowing Craig time to scramble up out of the awkward position he was in. He was such a large man, this was no easy task, but the adrenaline allowed him to move remarkably fast. The metal covering the roll cage bars above his head were caved in so he was unable to sit up completely. The spotlight on the side of the vehicle and the driving lights on top had been ripped completely off so he couldn’t see much on the side where the creature had fallen. Only one light on top and one or two on the front of the ATV were still working.
He reached down and tried the switch. The Razor roared to life! Craig slammed it in gear and hit the gas, spinning mud and snow behind him as he jetted forward and cut the wheel hard left. The Razor spun into a ninety degree turn and rocked to a halt when he hit the brakes. He knew he hit the beast, but it was nowhere to be seen!
The snow was still coming down hard, but he could see directly in front of the ATV where the few remaining lights were aimed. He quickly dropped the empty clip and slid another one in and slammed the .45 closed. Pulling out his flashlight from his inside pocket, he shined the light all around the vehicle. He hit the gas and sped forward for about twenty-five yards before he spun around in a one-eighty again. He was leery about the beast being able to circle around behind him and he wasn’t going to let it happen again. This time when he stopped, he thought he saw some movement just out of range of the headlights back from where he first shot the thing. He hit the gas hard and the ATV lurched forward and was met immediately with a huge tree limb exploding with tremendous force on the passenger side. The blow caved in the front roll cage and shattered the remaining lights on top. Only one headlight and two small pin lights underneath remained. Craig flinched away from the flying debris, hit the gas hard and turned the Razor. Snow and mud flew everywhere and the engine screamed. Craig never saw the huge pine until it was too late. He collided head-on with a massive tree only thirty feet away from the creature.
Stunned by the impact, Craig was unable to move for a few seconds. That’s all the time the beast needed. A huge, hairy arm reached into the Razor, grabbed Craig by the head and shoulders and pulled him out like a rag doll kicking and screaming. Once the monster had him out of the ATV, he lifted him high over his head and slammed the big man to the ground. Craig hit the ground with a hard ‘THUD’ and immediately reached for his holster, but his gun wasn’t there. He felt the beast grab his ankle and he tried kicking at the giant hands as hard as he could. He desperately tried to crawl away from it back toward the Razor, but its grip was too strong. As the beast dragged him, his hands found a tree branch in the darkness. He grabbed it and swung it as hard as he could. He swung repeatedly at the giant hands that held his ankle in a viselike grip. The beast dropped his leg and ripped the limb out of his hands. The monster screamed in a fit of rage that sent shock waves through Craig’s body. It brought the tree branch down hard on Craig again and again in a brutal attack that left the man lying on the ground in an unrecognizable heap.
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Phil suddenly felt himself suspended in mid-air. He was falling down the icy embankment toward the running water below. He grabbed frantically at anything he could, clawing madly at the snow covered slope. His gloves weren’t much help on the slick surface of the snow and ice, but he managed to arrest his descent. His body lay prone against the slanted embankment; he slowly began to crawl his way back up. His boots dug into the fresh snow while his shoulders and arms ached trying to pull his weight up. Finally, he was able to move up and over the edge and lay there on the solid, flat surface catching his breath. His mind was racing as his lungs screamed for air. As he lay there, he could have sworn that he heard more gun shots in his frantic struggles, but could not be certain. Then suddenly, he heard the scream of an animal so incredibly terrifying he bolted straight up on his feet in a sheer panic!
He could see his flashlight lying on the ground where he dropped it when he began falling. He made his way over to it and retrieved it. His body ached from the cold and he longed for the warmth of a hot fire. He couldn’t afford to stop and try to build one, not yet anyway. He listened intently for any more sounds, but hearing nothing, he began moving down the mountain away from that confrontation. He had no idea if his buddies killed it or just angered it. He needed to put as much distance between him and the nightmare on this mountain as he could. He had no weapons and no way to fend off an attack.
Putting one foot in front of the other proved to be extremely difficult being half frozen, but he managed. He had a warm hunting cap with a neoprene face mask that kept the elements at bay somewhat, but he was still losing a lot of body heat. He knew he had to get off the mountain quickly and get back to the cabin! There he should be able to get warmed back up and find help!
Using the flashlight sparingly, Phil made his way down, following the stream. About halfway down, he came across an obvious trail wide enough for an ATV or tractor. He remembered Troy telling him about the trails that the previous owners had made through the mountain. He also remembered that all of the trails that led down also led back to the road to the cabin.
Elated, he followed the trail down through a series of twists and turns until he eventually found the r
oad. The only problem he had now was figuring out which direction led back to the cabin as he was more than a little disoriented in the darkness. He was also feeling the effects of the concussion which wasn’t helping. The point where the trail met the road was on a curve. Both seemed to lead in the direction he thought the cabin should be. He had a fifty-fifty shot at choosing the correct one. He made a decision and began trudging through the snow.
Chapter 15
Sheriff Blaine sipped his coffee while he read through his stack of reports. It was only five a.m., but he was an early riser and during winter storms like this, he often stayed at the office. A few of his deputies were also there, but they had worked a late shift. They had cots in their offices and they could shower in the jail. They rarely kept anyone in their jail more than overnight; usually those were public intoxication violators just sleeping it off. They would pay their fines and leave the next day once they sobered up. The town of Hawthorn was filled with a lot of good, hard working families and was very tight knit, but there just wasn’t a lot to do up in the mountains sometimes. They welcomed outside visitors and went out of their way to be warm and inviting.
Nick nearly jumped straight out of his chair when the solitude of the early morning silence was suddenly disturbed by the ringing of the telephone. Startled, the Sheriff hurriedly picked up.
“Hello. Sheriff’s office.”
“Sheriff?” The caller asked.
“Yes, this is Sheriff Blaine. How can I help you?” It was Ray Horn at the fire department.
“Hey Nick, we received a call about twenty minutes ago. Burt, the snow plow driver, apparently found a man that wrecked his car over on 4th street. He called EMS and got him to the emergency room. They locked the vehicle up and took the keys so we’ll leave that up to you to check out. Burt’s back on the plow, but if you need him, he’s not hard to find.”
“Thanks, Ray. I’ll send a deputy over to check it out.”
A few minutes later the phone rang again. This time it was the doctor on the other end.
“Sheriff, this is Doctor Jenkins. I’m at the ER. Got a new patient this morning and thought you might be interested.”
“Is that right? Who is it?” The Sheriff asked as he noticed Deputy Larson make his way into the room half asleep and headed straight over to the coffee pot.
After a few minutes of conversation the Sheriff hung up the phone.
“Well, what kind of blood-thirsty criminal activity is going on at this God forsaken hour of the night?” The deputy asked.
“Well, good morning sunshine!” The Sheriff laughed. “It seems that the Turner fellow showed up at the ER just a bit ago with broken ribs and banged up pretty badly. Doc says he’s in and out of consciousness. Can’t get anything out of him; nothing that makes sense anyway. Burt was on the snow plow when he found ‘im slumped over in his car and brought him in. Apparently, he wrecked in town and was knocked unconscious. Has ‘im checked in a room now. Not sure what to make of it really.”
“Sounds like he’s had a bad time of it! I wonder what happened to his two buddies,” the deputy asked. “Maybe they pulled out before this storm hit and headed back home. Didn’t want to get caught in it.”
“Maybe. I had planned on making a trip out there today about noon, but it looks like I just need to drive across town to the hospital now,” the Sheriff replied.
“Doc said Turner had been muttering crazy stuff when Burt brought him in. I’ll grab one of the sleds in a bit and go check on him and see if I can get the story. Why don’t you see if you can raise Burt on the radio and meet up with him somewhere and get a statement from him…find out where his car is and get it towed.”
The sheriff could hear Larson on the phone calling for the snow plow driver. After a few minutes Burt answered him back and the two arranged to meet up at a local coffee shop. With that, the deputy turned to his office to get his things together for the ride over. Burt would be out on the city streets trying to keep them as clear as possible in this storm. Emergencies happened and first responders would still need to be able to get around though most people knew to stay indoors during these conditions. Storms like this could hit suddenly and could be brutal. The weather reports warned them a few days ago that it could be a sizable storm and dump quite a bit of snow.
Finally suited up in cold weather gear, Deputy Larson made his way to the garage where the vehicles were kept. He opened one of the garage bay doors and climbed on a snow mobile. He started the sled, let it idle until it warmed up and then started out into the snow storm to meet Burt. Most folks living in the mountains owned four-wheel drive vehicles and it wasn’t uncommon to see many of them with snow plows on them in the winter. Many people also owned snow mobiles which often was the only way around. Every able bodied person did all they could to make sure that the community was taken care of and could travel. Most of the local businesses stayed open during normal hours. Things slowed down, but by no means would snow storms stop the town completely. They were used to these kinds of living conditions.
The front door of the Sheriff’s office suddenly opened and Lindsey Watney walked in along with a brutal gust of cold wind and snow. She was the dispatcher and worked the day shift. After she closed the door and stamped her boots off she headed straight over to the coffee pot.
“Good morning Nick!” she said in a gruff morning voice.
“Morning Linds,” the Sheriff responded. “How was your ride over?”
“Cold, very cold! I have no idea what makes me stay in this place. I could be living in California or Florida where it’s warm all the time,” She said.
Lindsey was an attractive single lady in her early forties with long red hair, emerald green eyes and a very curvy figure. She could certainly turn heads no matter how she was dressed though she filled out her uniform quite well. She liked to go out in the evenings to the local Three Frogs Tavern. She played just as hard as she worked, but she wasn’t getting any younger and it took a little longer in the mornings to recover than it did in her younger days. After pouring a cup of coffee she made her way over to her desk.
“Any calls come in Sheriff?”
“Interestingly enough, yes.”
The sheriff relayed all that he knew about the Turner case and that he had sent Larson over to meet with Burt. The older man walked over and poured another cup of coffee and then switched on the radio. Soon, the air was filled with classic country music that the sheriff preferred. The others didn’t mind as it was mostly just a little background filler as they went about their daily duties. A few of the other deputies would be getting up and getting ready for their shifts. They would take four wheel drive pickups or sleds out on patrol as the weather could make navigating a little treacherous in certain places on the mountain.
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The snow was falling steadily, though not nearly as heavy as it was the day before. The wind was gusting and bringing in a frozen arctic blast with it. The wind chill alone dropped below freezing. Deputy Larson soon found the small coffee shop on the main street of town and parked his snow-mobile in front. Walking inside, he felt the heat from the pot-bellied stove in the corner and it felt good. He was soon greeted by an older lady with soft brown eyes and short graying hair.
“Good morning, didn’t expect anyone this early, but I have coffee on. Have a seat deputy.”
Mrs. Townsend was a sweet lady who was raising her grandchildren. One of which, a cute little five year old girl, watched the deputy with the flickering flames of the firelight shining off her chubby little cheeks. She shrank down on her knees as she peered over the back of the chair.
“Thanks Mrs. Townsend, how are you doing this morning?” Larson asked. “I’m sure glad you’re always open. I’ve been dying for one of your cream cheese Danishes.”
She laughed politely as she poured him a cup of hot coffee. “You know me Billy, I have to be busy doing something or I’ll simply do nothing at all. Besides, I have to fix breakfast for these kids anyway so I might as well fix
breakfast for any brave soul that feels like getting out in this winter storm. Can I get you something besides the coffee and Danish Billy? “
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The snow fall was just as heavy as ever if not thicker. Phil had seen a lot of snow before, but this storm was seriously monumental to him. The wind chill alone was excruciating. He had no idea how human beings could possibly live like this for several months out of the year. He needed sunshine and warmth on his face and his thoughts lingered to his home in Oklahoma. He worked at a local factory as a welder and he was used to the extreme temperature. The snow, ice and constant freezing wind-chill were something that he could handle on short excursions, but this was not what he bargained for. He had been slogging away now for what felt like hours, but in reality was only about a half an hour since he had found the road. He hadn’t heard anymore gun shots and thankfully, no more of those terrifying screams from that creature. He had been trying to believe that the others had killed the beast and would be along any moment now, though he hadn’t heard the familiar sound of the ATV.
It was beginning to get lighter outside though there was no sunrise that he could see. Probably wouldn’t see the sun again for weeks. He could just make out silhouettes of the trees that lined the edges of the road. He clicked his flashlight off and put it away in his coat pocket. He kept his hands tucked away under his arms and huddled as tightly as he could, attempting to retain as much of his body warmth as possible. His cold weather gear was well insulated, but was no match for this extended period. He was frozen to the bone and his legs screamed at him to just stop, but he had to keep moving for fear of dying out here. Every step was harder and harder. Just stop and rest, he thought, it would be okay to just rest for a few minutes. Catch your breath and then, move on. No. He knew he shouldn’t, he had to keep moving and get out of the weather. It wouldn’t be long now and he could enjoy the warmth of the fireplace and maybe something hot to eat. The thought of the smell of bacon sizzling in the frying pan and coffee on the stove was tantalizing. Soon, he thought, soon.
Siege at Hawthorn Lake: Murder on the Mountain Page 12
