He took a right onto Hillside Road toward the Point. He hoped Johnny would be okay out there in the woods. If he found that thing, he’d need a lot more than the shitty taser he’d stolen from The Gun Shop last summer.
There was an orange pick-up truck on the side of the road up ahead. He slowed and realized what he already knew. It was his father’s. He pulled over across from it and put his vehicle in Park.
This must be his dad’s secret fishing spot. Bryan hadn’t been fishing with his dad since he was a kid, and even though he’d never in a million years ask to tag along, the fact that his dad kept his special spot hidden from him had always gotten under his skin. The fact that his dad was still out here hours after he left, seemed a bit odd. He could have stopped at Dell’s first and got good and hammered before driving down. That was certainly a possibility.
I’ll just take a quick peek, he thought. Five minutes won’t hurt.
He left the truck running. He got out and walked under the Maple tree and found a small foot path just beyond. He could hear the creek.
As the water came into view, he saw his dad’s rod and tackle box, and a case of Budweiser.
Great, where the hell’d he wander off to?
He got his answer as he continued to scan the edge of the creek.
Lying face down, half in and half out of the water, was his father.
“Dad, you drunken asshole,” he muttered.
It was only a matter of time before his booze got him into serious trouble. As he approached his father, he wondered if he was dead. For some reason the idea that he passed out in the water seemed completely plausible, but what if his face was in the water, too?
Bryan rushed to his dad’s side.
His father’s nose and mouth were out of the water, just barely, but his eyes were wide open, staring into nothing.
“Dad?” he said, kneeling at his side. He reached down and shook his shoulder. His father was dead.
A sadness he didn’t expect poured over him as he fell to his knees at his father’s side. Anger tried to roil up to counter the heartache. This man had beaten him senseless, had talked to him like he was nothing most of his life, and he shouldn’t give a shit that he was gone. He should be smiling. No matter how hard he tried to fight them, the tears still filled his eyes.
He bent, placing a hand around his side, and laid his head on the old man’s back and cried. It wasn’t until he raised his head and looked at his hand that Bryan’s shock kicked up another notch. Blood. He’d assumed the wetness was the water, but his hand looked as though he’d just finished up at a slaughter house for the day.
Rising, Bryan stepped over his father and saw an enormous chunk of the old man’s side was not just bleeding—it was missing.
Bryan stumbled backwards, tripping and falling to his ass in the creek. He scanned the surrounding trees for the perpetrator. He knew what had done this.
Johnny.
Johnny was expecting to meet him at the Point.
Bryan got up and gazed at his father’s lifeless form, torn on what to do.
What could he do? His father was already dead, but Johnny and Wendy, they still had a chance.
He turned to run. The white wolf splashed down before him and backhanded him. Bryan left his feet as the pain exploded in his chest. His head smashed against a stone as he crashed down in the water.
The werewolf strode toward him. Its yellow eyes burrowed into him. Bryan scurried to his feet, heading for the deeper waters. Knee-deep in the creek, nails sunk into the sides of his head and pulled him back. The monster held him with one hand, its claws puncturing his scalp as it brought its other set of claws to his chest. Raking down fire, followed by an odd numbness and the awful sounds of something plopping into the water, attacked his senses.
The white wolf let out a low, guttural breath that reeked of death as it moved its black lips and jagged teeth inches from his own.
Bryan’s breaths came in short gasps, his body going cold, his thoughts dispersing chasing hazy shadows on the outer edge of his vision.
The beast dug its nails deeper into the back of his head before wrenching the handful of soft flesh free from his skull.
Bryan dropped. The last thing he saw was the glorious white-furred creature, standing over him with a blood-dripping clump of hair and scalp in its hand.
Whose hair is that?
The thought was simple. The answer never to come.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Kenny pulled into Beth’s driveway. Her needle-dick husband’s little fag-mobile hybrid was gone. He parked and stepped from his cruiser. His dick was already getting hard thinking about Beth’s lips tracing his shaft. He adjusted himself, smirking like a wolf and headed to the steps.
Beth answered the door, brow furrowed and arms crossed over her chest.
“What’s the ugly face about?” Kenny said.
“You know what, you asshole. You said you wouldn’t tell Barry.”
He didn’t know how she’d heard, probably one of them dumb sluts at the diner, Milly or Kacey more likely, but now they’d made a mess for him he didn’t have the patience for today. Not with all this other shit going on. He came here to fuck it all from his mind, and that’s just what he was gonna do.
He shoved his way past her and stalked his way into her kitchen, opening her fridge and searching for a beer.
“Your husband drink anything other than prissy light beer?”
“I want you to leave, Kenny.”
He grabbed a bottle of Heineken Light, pulled his jackknife from his belt, and popped off the bottle top with the edge of its blade.
“Listen, I don’t know how Barry found out, but I didn’t fucking tell him.”
“You’re so full of shit. Kacey heard you tell him before you even promised me. You should have told me he already knew.”
“Hey, I haven’t said shit to him since I told you I wouldn’t. So, technically, I kept my word.” He chugged the beer and slammed the bottle down on the counter, wiped his mouth, and started toward her fiddling with the knife. “Now, it ain’t my fault that you didn’t ask me if I’d already told him, so drop the fucking tough bitch act.”
Tears filled her eyes. “You know what he does to Bryan. You know he’s probably beat the shit out of him already.”
“Listen, that boy’s gonna be one tough SOB when he’s our age. Parents these days let their kids do and say whatever they want without real consequences. That’s why we got so many school shootings and cry baby Americans. There’s no discipline anymore. No consequences.”
“I don’t care to hear your thoughts on the world or raising children, you don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. I just want you out of my goddamn house.”
He snatched her by the throat, slammed her against the wall, and placed the blade to her cheek. “You got a big mouth of your own all of a sudden,” he growled. “I don’t wanna hurt you, Beth, but I swear to fucking Christ, today is not the day to push me, you hear me?”
Tears leaked down her face, but she didn’t look ready to submit. Not by a damn long shot. Her little nostrils were flaring up a storm. She wanted to hurt him. He knew the look. Saw it in her eyes.
“You want me out? Huh?” He applied more pressure to her throat. She squeaked, but didn’t break. “Oh yeah, I think we’re gonna get rough this time around. I bet you’ll buck like a stallion.”
She kneed him in the balls so hard he was sure he felt something break. He dropped the knife and fell to the hardwood floor holding his balls and threw up.
“Bitch,” he managed to mutter.
He watched as she fled.
By the time he’d recovered and gotten to the door she was pulling away in her Buick.
He picked up a fancy looking vase from a table in the entryway and smashed it on the floor.
“That dumb bitch just made her worst fucking mistake.”
He hurried to his car, lit the cherry tops, and spun the car around kicking up dirt and dust as he chased after her.
<
br /> He caught up to her in less than two minutes, but she was ignoring him.
He punched his dashboard and put the pedal to the floor.
He could see her wide-eyes glancing back at him in the rearview mirror.
“See how you like this,” he said. He put his bumper to hers, turned his wheel left, and gave the pedal another nudge, spinning her Buick right off the road. He slowed down as she flew off the road. He watched with glee as the Buick bumped and jostled toward the tress. He hit the brakes as she finally hit a small cluster of rocks and hit an old stump at the edge of the woods, smoke and steam spewing from the Buick’s hood.
He pulled off to the side of the road. She was already out of her car and fleeing into the woods.
“Goddamn it.” He jumped from his cruiser and raced after her.
He was gonna chase her ass down, fuck her, and then he was gonna kill her. He knew it. He had no other option. And the sheriff wasn’t gonna say or do shit or he’d squeal about Scott Cutter. No, Decker owed him. And he was ready to cash in.
He saw Beth up ahead racing toward the creek. Bitch was faster than he thought. He pulled his sidearm and fired two shots at her. Both missed, but caused her to glance over her shoulder at him. The distraction was just enough as she stumbled and crashed to the forest floor.
As he came up on her, panting and grinning, his gun hanging down at his side, she sat up and chucked something at him. The rock clocked him in the temple, and pain exploded in his head. He raised his free hand to the wound. His fingers came away with blood.
“I was gonna give you one last good fuck, but you know what? You ain’t worth it.”
“You can’t shoot—”
Bang.
He planted the bullet in the center of her forehead blowing her brains right out the back of her head.
“Well, well, well.”
The voice startled him.
Kenny spun around. Standing by a tree, fifty feet away, was a slim male, nude as the day he was born.
“Who the hell are you?” Kenny said.
“A witness,” he said in a feminine, screechy voice. He was covered in something that looked an awful lot like blood from his lips to his knees.
“Yeah, well, this woman was fleeing an officer of the law. This is official police business, so I’m not sure what you think you’ve witnessed.”
“A killer knows a killer when he sees one,” the man said.
“Where the fuck did you come from anyway? What’s all over you?” Kenny said. His face was pallid, pockmarked, and grotesquely misshapen. He’d be horrible to look at even if he were dressed to the nines.
“Listen, just go back to wherever you came from and forget you saw anything.”
The man stepped forward grinning. “I thought there was nothing to see here?”
Kenny didn’t like the man’s smile. His teeth looked like a bunch of pointy rocks sticking up from black gums. A coldness flooded his blood. There was something not right about this man.
“That, that’s close enough,” Kenny said.
The naked, bloody freak continued toward him.
“Go back, that’s not a r-request.”
“That’s okay, I don’t take requests or orders. I am free.”
The man’s eyes were changing…they were turning yellow… and the bones in his face seemed to be shifting…
He realized what stood before him.
The beast.
He wished he’d brought the right gun. He squeezed off four shots. At least one found its mark, but the man moved so fast, Kenny’s feet were off the ground in the blink of an eye.
He landed flat on his back, with his gun landing out of reach.
“I told you,” the man’s voice deepened and sounded like he had a mouthful of glass.
Kenny watched, terrified, as the man shed his clothes. White hair sprouted from his slick flesh, the sound of breaking bones shifting and snapping filled his ears.
“It takes one to know….one.”
Able to breathe again, Kenny scrambled for his pistol, as a roar stole the afternoon behind him.
His back lit-up in pure white fire as Kenny screamed and fell to the ground.
“Don’t…don’t kill me…” he cried.
The beast stood over him.
Through the trees behind it, Kenny could see the full moon already up as the sun was on its way to setting.
He closed his eyes as the tears wet his face.
It grunted.
Opening his eyes, he saw the monster turn its attention back the way from which it’d come .
Oh please, God. Please make it go.
As if hearing his prayer, the creature turned back to him. He thought he saw it smiling.
“No,” he said.
The monster bent down, snatched him by the sides of the head, roared into his face, and buried its snout of jagged teeth into his neck.
…
The beast chewed its way through the policeman’s neck, enjoying every tendon, muscle, and grisly, tasty bit.
The headless body dropped to the ground. The wolf howled again, discarding the officer’s head with a soft thud, and sniffed the air. A familiar scent. Close by.
The boy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Kathy pulled up to the Cutter’s driveway. She couldn’t shake the Grimm fairytale about the werewolf. What had he called it? The beast of the woods? Something like that. She felt a little foolish stopping to talk to a kid about such stories, but with the brutality of last night and the strange behavior of Rutherford, the sheriff, and even Lloyd, she wanted to be thorough.
Or you’re just losing your mind like everyone else around here.
She stepped from the car and walked to the front door. A beautiful blonde, the boy’s mom, answered. Worry lines lit up across her face.
“Hi, Ms. Cutter?”
“Hello, officer. How can I help you?”
“First off, it’s nothing big. I was just wondering if I might get a word with your son, Ben?”
“Ben? Has he done something wrong?”
“No, no. Not at all. I was just following up on the visit from the other day.”
The woman’s shoulders relaxed as she sighed.
“Oh my God, thank goodness. I’m sorry, you see the police at your door and you prepare for the worst. Come on in, he was out back a little bit ago. Let me see if I can fetch him. I’m Susan, by the way.”
Kathy shook her hand and followed her in.
“Ben? Ben?”
Kathy stood in the doorway as Susan called to her son.
“Huh? He’s not out there,” Susan said as she came back in from the backyard. “Seems he’s run off on me. Was there anything I can help you with?”
“Well, I’m not sure if you heard. We had some trouble last night.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Two men were found dead.”
“Oh my God,” Susan said.
“Looks like we have a wild animal in our woods. Both men were definitely attacked. I’m guessing by the same creature.”
“Brenton woods?”
Kathy nodded.
“Ben’s got a club house out there. What if he’s…” Susan turned and headed for the back door. “I bet that’s where he is.”
Kathy followed her down through the living room and to the back door. Susan went down the stairs and stopped staring out at the trees beyond the freshly mowed yard.
“I have to go find him,” she said.
“Is it far? The clubhouse?”
“Not too far, but out of hearing distance. I think I can find my way back there.”
“I’ll come with you. If we run into this thing, we’ll need some firepower. Let me grab my rifle from my car.”
…
Susan’s heart raced. Two men killed. The thought was enough to shake her core. It could only be one person, one thing. He’d been gone since Scott’s accident. When had he come back? Officer Wilcox disappeared around the house. Susan hurried inside.
She had a handgun in her closet. She wasn’t going out empty handed. She was very familiar with the gun, and she was a good shot. She didn’t know whether her bullets would affect that son of a bitch, but she’d hurt him for everything he’d taken from her.
In her room, she reached for the box with the pistol. As soon as she grabbed it she knew it was empty.
Oh, Ben.
She drew the cover back and confirmed it.
“He has my gun,” she said.
Deputy Wilcox slung her rifle over her shoulder. “You said you were good with that handgun of yours, right?”
“Yeah, Ben and I go to the range in Travis every couple weeks.”
The deputy popped the snap on her holster and pulled her pistol free and handed it butt first to Susan.
“If we run into the thing out there doing what I’ve seen, you’re gonna need to be armed.”
Susan took the gun. It was heavier than her own but comfortable. She’d never seen the killing side of the beast, but maybe something much worse. She imagined Ben face-to-face with it.
“Is my boy going to be okay?”
Deputy Wilcox put a hand on her shoulder. “I can’t make that promise, but I’m going to do my best to see to it that we get him back for you same as he left.”
Tightlipped, trying not to give into her imagination, Susan nodded.
“Ready?”
“Yes.”
…..
“Kenny? You there?” Decker couldn’t get a hold of the dip shit. Rolling by Wilcox’s small ranch-style home, he took notice of her empty driveway.
Too smart for your own good.
“Lloyd, you there?”
“Right here, Sheriff.”
“You seen or heard from Kath or Kenny?”
“Kenny said he was gonna head out to Travis. I ain’t heard from Kathy since last night. Everything all right?”
“You hear from either, you give me a holler, you hear me?”
“Yes, sheriff.”
He slammed his com down and spat out the window.
“Fuck. Where are you two?” he said.
Then it dawned on him.
Kenny only went to Travis for two things: Gentleman’s Welcome and his indecent trysts with Barry Smith’s ex-sister-in-law, Beth Albies.
The Beast of Brenton Woods Page 11
