The Beast of Brenton Woods

by Jackson Thomas

  That thing was huge. If it tore the door from a car…if it launched from the trees, Johnny wouldn’t stand a chance. She stuck her head out the window, “Come on, get back in here,” she whispered.

  Johnny snapped to attention, raising the rifle to his shoulder.

  “What is it?” she said.

  He took a few steps forward without replying.

  She couldn’t sit here. She got out of the car and started toward him.

  “Stop! Get back in the fucking van,” he shouted.

  “Fuck you, I want to—”

  “You don’t want to see this, Wendy. Now get back in the van,” he said. Johnny started toward her, his eyes darting at the surrounding woods. “We’re getting out of here.”

  “What is it? What’s over there? Is it…is it Paul?”

  “We need to call the police.”

  She tried to dart past him, but Johnny grabbed her arm and despite her struggles dragged her to the car.

  She jerked her arms, on the edge of hysterics, when the howl ripped through the darkness.

  “Get behind that goddamn wheel and get us out of here,” Johnny said.

  She dropped into the driver’s seat and threw the vehicle in reverse. Johnny raised his rifle, aimed toward the source of the horrifying sound, and fired.

  Wendy spun the van around as he fired a second shot toward the trees before rushing over and climbing in.

  “Go, go, go!” he shouted as he slammed the door.

  She pressed the gas pedal to the floor, the tires squealing as they raced away. She peeked out the corner of her eye and noticed Johnny leaning back against the seat clutching the gun. He looked terrified.

  The beast unleashed another roar. Rivulets of fear traced her spine as she promised the Higher Power she would never come back here again. They had tempted the fates a second time, and they’d be lucky to survive.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Kathy had just pulled into the station parking lot when Lloyd’s panicked voice burst across her com.

  “Deputy Wilcox? Come in. Over. Kathy, are you out there?”

  She excited the vehicle and made her way through the front doors.

  Lloyd was still trying for her.

  “Deputy…are you—”

  “What is it, Lloyd?” she said

  His face was ashen.

  “Just got off the phone with the Higgins kids, Wendy and Johnny?”

  “Yes, Lloyd, I know the Higgins kids. Go on.”

  “Well, they had a hell of a story to tell. Their friend, Paul Clukey…he’s dead.”

  “What the hell is going on around here?” she asked.

  This is what she got for being so goddamn anxious to prove her grit. Sheriff leaves town for a couple days and she’s got dead bodies on her hands, a shredded carcass in a boy’s tent, and stories of monsters howling in the night.

  She sat on the corner of Lloyd’s desk, took off her hat, and ran her hand over her hair. The ponytail felt too damn tight, like it was trying to pull her scalp from her head. “They say what happened? How they found him?”

  “They did, but you ain’t gonna like it.”

  “Jesus, Lloyd, what is it already.”

  “They said he was torn apart by the Beast of Brenton Woods.”

  She hung her head. This nonsense was going way too far.

  “Out on the old outlet road. That cabin used to belong to—”

  “I know who it used to belong to,” she said, getting up and pulling out the hair tie. If she was going to be up all-night chasing shadows she was going to be as comfortable as she could. Lloyd’s gaze shifted. His face followed suit. This was part of the reason she kept her hair up and hat on. Lloyd Brannigan turned into a junior high school kid noticing a pretty girl for the first time. If anything, it brought the color back to his cheeks.

  “Lloyd, you still with me?”

  “Uh, yeah, sorry, Kath, I just…”

  “Just get on the horn, tell Kenny when Bruce is done at the Yates place for them to meet us out at the Dresden cabin. Tell him we got another body.”

  “We’re going out there?”

  “Yes. I’ve got to go the bathroom before we head out.”

  Lloyd dropped the school boy daze, but now he looked frightened again.

  “Kathy, I…I ain’t never seen a dead body, outside of the morgue. Even then, it’s never been someone I met.”

  She put a hand on his arm. “You’ll be fine, Lloyd. I’ll be there with you.”

  His face looked like it tried to smile, but didn’t quite have the strength.

  “Make the call.”

  In the tiny restroom she shared with a bunch of men, Kathy did her business, and then stopped at the sink. She turned on the cold water, cupped her hands and let it flow until they were full. Splashing her face, she rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath. There was no mirror. Kenny had punched it in one of his hissy fits last winter. She imagined her eyes were already red-rimmed. She never should have gotten up early to go running. 3a.m. already felt like a lifetime ago.

  Lloyd had his Remington squeezed in both hands. She was willing to bet his palms were sweaty as hell and his guts were upside down.

  “Bruce is just about finished up, and he and Kenny will meet us at Dresden’s in twenty minutes.”

  “Good work, Lloyd. Now, come on. You’re riding with me.” She led him out the door and to her car. “And for both of sakes,” she said, pausing as he reached for the door. “Make sure you got the safety on. We don’t need to add to our body count tonight.”

  …..

  Bruce Davison was nearly finished putting the pieces of Conway Yates in the body bag. He’d worked these parts damn near his entire career. He’d never seen a thing like this. Not a human body torn to shreds, half-eaten, the rest strewn along the yard. He’d also been around long enough to hear the stories of the white wolf.

  Sheriff Decker acted like they were folk tales, legends to scare the town and it’s children from screwing around out too deep in the woods, or making out at The Point, but there was always something in the sheriff’s eyes that spoke a different truth. Hell, Bruce got the damn willies every time the beast was mentioned. Even if it was the sheriff telling kids not to believe everything they hear.

  Bruce had gotten the same feeling at the Cutter kid’s house. What was done to that deer, the same as was done to Mr. Yates…it wasn’t natural.

  “Just got word from the station,” Rutherford said. The asshole had been sitting in his cruiser since Kathy left, smoking cigarettes and talking to someone, a woman by the sounds of what little conversation Bruce could make out.

  “Oh yeah, what’s going on?” Bruce said, keeping the irritation from his voice.

  “We got a long night ahead of us.”

  No.

  “Some kids just called in another body out at the Dresden cabin. Guess it’s torn to shit just like that one,” he said, nodding at the bag.

  God in Heaven.

  “I’ll have to call Sara and let her know not to expect me.”

  “You gotta wonder, huh, hoss?” Rutherford said, sucking down the rest of his smoke.

  “What’s that?”

  “Something out there, all right. I always suspected as much. Wouldn’t exactly say it’s a fucking monster, but it’s out there tonight, and it’s got a taste for this shit.”

  “You sure you weren’t smoking some other kind of cigarette over there this whole time?” Bruce said.

  “You gonna sit there, after picking up all this, and tell me you don’t think its’s real?”

  “I’m not saying anything until I can get these bodies back to my table.”

  Rutherford stamped his cigarette out and spat. “I’m heading over.” He gazed up at the full moon above. “I wouldn’t be too far behind me if I were you.”

  With that the asshole turned on his boot heels, walked to his car, and left.

  As soon as Rutherford’s engine faded, Bruce felt the world shift from color to black and whit
e. A myth come to life or not, something had done this to Mr. Yates, and possibly to whomever awaited them out at the Dresden place. Bruce zipped the bag. He stared into the trees beyond the yard. The moonlight offered some breaks in the blackness.

  He felt night closing in around him. He needed to get this done quick and hurry the hell out of here. Paranoia or not, his gut was telling him to move.

  Bruce backed his truck to the spot where he’d left the body. It took him a good few minutes of grunting and muscling the bag into the back of his truck. Work that would have, or should have, been nothing if Rutherford had helped. He needed to call Sara, but he’d feel better calling her from the road. He didn’t want to be here any longer.

  He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped the Vick’s Vapor Rub from under his nose. His keys fell to the ground, and slid under the truck.

  “For crying out loud,” he said.

  As he stuffed the rag back into his pocket and dropped to one knee, he heard a thump-thump in the woods behind him. He craned his neck, but couldn’t see anything beyond the moonlight’s reach. His heart picked up its pace. His mouth went dry. He was past the point of bullshitting himself any longer. There was a killer out here and it was with him now. He dropped down and scrounged his hand under the truck. His fingers trailed back and forth over the dewy grass coming up empty.

  Where the hell are they?

  Panic seized him. They had to be there.

  Another thump-thump came, this time even closer.

  He squinted trying to catch a glint of the keys. He could have used his light, but he’d put the damn lantern in the back with the body. Just as his fingers found the keys, something stumbled from the woods into the yard behind him.

  Oh God, I never called Sara. I never told her I loved her.

  He braced himself and spun around on his ass.

  Two deer stood frozen at the edge of the property.

  “Jesus, thank you, Lord,” he whispered. He hung his head in relief.

  He still had to go out to the old Dresden place. Part of him demanded he say to hell with it and head straight back to his wife, but some smaller piece knew he had a job to do, and Bruce Fender never walked away from a job.

  The deer scattered as he stood. He looked up at the moon and shivered. Then he grabbed his cell phone and called Sara.

  …..

  Rutherford’s nerves were shot. It was bad enough them dipshits hung out drinking and screwing at the cabin, he certainly didn’t want Wilcox snooping around out there, too. The sheriff was gonna kill him if he didn’t handle this and handle it right fucking now. It was the last thing they fucking needed. He had to make it as quick and neat as the Yates clean-up, even if it meant getting Paul Clukey’s blood on his hands. He’d help Bruce load every last piece if it got them out there before dawn.

  Reminded of what he’d done, Rutherford craved a strong drink. They’d made a huge mistake, but they’d covered their tracks. He’d be damned if anyone, especially that hotshot bitch Wilcox, was gonna screw things up. He’d kill her before he’d let that happen.

  He pulled onto the outlet road, his gaze sweeping side-to-side, on alert for the thing that should be long gone by now. Quiet for years, and this weekend of all weekend’s it decides to come back from the dead. Suddenly, the beast wasn’t the only thing with a thirst for killing.

  Rutherford’s headlamps lit up Cluckey’s Audi as he turned into the driveway. He was the first one here, but Wilcox wouldn’t be far behind. His time was limited.

  He got out of the car, went to the trunk and snatched his Mag light and his shotgun. Lifting-up the space that hid his spare tire, he found what remained of the silver slugs Decker had given him. Five left in the box. They would have to be enough, he just hoped he wouldn’t need them. Not right now anyway. He pumped the gun, emptying the normal ammo, and then replaced them with five special editions.

  He turned the flashlight on and quickly scanned the scene.

  Clukey’s body was gnawed up and ripped open from his crotch to his chin. The remains of what had spilled out trailed toward the woods. If the body didn’t prove it, the car door five hundred feet away sure as fuck did. They’d either killed an innocent man, or he’d survived.

  …..

  “What’s it like?” Lloyd asked.

  Kathy glanced over at him. He never looked more like a kid than he did right now. Thirty-three or not, Lloyd Brannigan was a baby on the force and right now, he was scared shitless.

  “You mean seeing a body at the scene?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s not normal. Especially in a smaller town like this, where we all know one another, or at least know of one another.”

  She thought of Conway Yates and Harriet Newman. She didn’t know them personally, but she’d seen them at church, she’d seen them at least a couple times in town at the diner together after church. She’d suspected there was something there. People their age, when one or both have lost their partner of twenty, thirty, fifty years, deserve that connection, that chance at one more bond. Harriet was the first person to talk to her outside the sheriff once she arrived in town two years ago. Walked right up and introduced herself at church and offered to help her get acclimated to the place when and if she needed. She never really said much more than hello and or good-bye to Conway Yates, but knowing he meant something to Harriet made it hard to see what was left of him tonight.

  She swallowed hard and said, “It’s not easy, but you just tell yourself that the best thing you can do is look for the evidence and be thorough, be on your game, and do what we’re here to do, to see to it that justice is served. Or at least that we follow protocol and get it right. Either way, you have to keep your eyes open, even when it’s ugly. That’s why we do this job and not Joey Tough Guy or Sally Wannabe. Right?”

  “Right. I’m sorry,” he said, dropping his chin. “I sure hope you don’t think less of me.”

  “The time comes for each of us, a chance to find out what we’re made of. I think you’ve got more in there than you know, Lloyd.”

  “Yeah?”

  She was going to answer when she saw Rutherford’s car.

  “Where the hell is Bruce?” she said, pulling in behind the cruiser. “I swear, if he left Bruce out there alone.”

  Rutherford came out of the cabin, flashlight beam leading his way, shotgun on his shoulder.

  “It’s messy, Deputy,” he stepped up to the car and passed the light over her and Lloyd. “Watch your step out here. Wouldn’t want you to get any blood in that pretty hair of yours.”

  Headlights lit up the road behind them as Bruce’s Suburban pulled in to fill the driveway.

  Kathy was ready to cut Rutherford’s balls off as she got out of the car.

  “How long have you been out here?” she said.

  “Calm down, hon, I waited until—”

  “Bullshit, Kenny,” Bruce said joining them. “You left me out there.” He turned to her and said, “Didn’t even help me get the body in the truck. I just about gave myself a hernia finishing the job done.”

  Kathy stepped up to him, her forehead barley reaching his chin. The stupid smirk under his ugly fucking mustache was the last straw. She shot a knee into his groin and shoved him to the ground as he crumpled forward.

  She bent down to his face and said, “I warned you about calling me that. And I explicitly told you to stay with Bruce and to help him out, not to stand around and jerk off and then ditch him. You don’t have to like me or respect me, but while Sheriff Decker is gone, you will do as I say. Are we clear?” She stood.

  “Yes,” he mumbled, climbing to his feet. “Perfectly.”

  “Now, what the hell were you in such a hurry to get out here for, huh? You think you’re going to find what’s doing this and blow it away?”

  “I got the tools,” he said patting his shotgun.

  “Coming out here all gung ho and alone is a good way to get yourself next on this thing’s dinner plate. You ever think abo
ut that?”

  She didn’t wait for a response. She turned to Bruce. “I’m sorry about him, let’s get to this, okay? We’ll work together and see if we can make this one a little easier on you.”

  “Thanks, Kathy. I appreciate that,” Bruce said.

  Rutherford grumbled something under his breath as he walked away.

  “I’m sorry,” Lloyd said. “I think I’m gonna—” he turned away from them and vomited into the grass.

  Bruce moseyed over to Lloyd and patted him on the back.

  Kathy watched Kenny pacing by his car. She had a feeling there would be some form of retaliation coming her way, but she couldn’t concern herself with that prospect right now. She was more troubled by Rutherford’s carelessness. He was an asshole, but the guy wasn’t an idiot. He wanted to be the first one out here. What the hell for, she didn’t know, but she didn’t like it.

  She forgot all about Rutherford when she finally noticed the car door in the yard and Paul Clukey’s ruined body.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Wendy fell asleep next to her brother. It wasn’t long before she slipped into a dream.

  It was her fourteenth birthday party. Johnny and their dad were at her State Championship. Johnny was a Freshman sensation, he was the fastest running back in Cooper Mills’ history. Mom did her best to make the party a success. All her friends were there, except, in the dream, they were laughing at her, telling her that her daddy didn’t care about her. She knew her father loved her, but Johnny deserved the spotlight, too. Wendy’s two best friends from that time, Lucy Monteith and Mandy Henkos tied her down and threw dog shit at her. She gagged as it hit her nose and slopped onto her upper lips and front teeth. When she stopped gagging it was only to witness the horror taking place around her. Lucy and Theo held their hands over their eyes as blood bubbled and drooled from between their fingers. Her father entered the room and began groping her friends, and Johnny, twisted from the scoliosis they’d discovered in fifth grade, hobbled toward her with maggots dripping from his lips. She screamed her lungs out until she woke up.