Bigfoot Hunters

by Rick Gualtieri

  Though stunned, Derek was able to roll back to his feet out of instinct alone. He shook his head to clear it and saw the squatch. It was huge, over nine feet tall, and bristling with muscle. Where the other creatures had been covered in dirty brown fur, this one was distinct in its salt and pepper coloring. There was little doubt in Derek’s mind this was the alpha. It was the largest and strongest of the clan. No doubt the craftiest, too, as it had taken out his entire squad with one hit.

  It was in the act of advancing upon Francis, who was struggling weakly where he lay upon the sidewalk. He looked injured, perhaps badly. Shaken as he was, Derek wasn’t about to let the creature have his friend. He gave an inarticulate shout as he rose, catching the beast’s attention. It turned toward him, its eyes malevolent points of red in the moonlight. It bared its teeth at him and took a step forward.

  It was only then that he realized he’d dropped his rifle. He could see it lying in the road about halfway between him and the squatch. There was no way he’d be able to retrieve it before the creature was upon him. Instead, he began fumbling for the heavy sidearm he wore. Unfortunately, he was still semi-dazed, and his fingers didn’t seem to want to fully cooperate.

  Sadly, before he could free the revolver, the creature launched itself at him. Though limping slightly, it still closed the gap with frightening speed. As the great beast lunged toward him, Derek did the only sensible thing he could think of: he turned and ran.

  * * *

  Despite being in a world of agony, Francis saw the squatch turn toward Derek. He dimly realized that the creature had been coming for him before it’d been distracted. Despite the pain, he wouldn’t let the opportunity go to waste. His rifle strap was still around his right arm. Reaching for it with his functional hand, he gave it a tug. Pain flared in his broken appendage as he realized he was partially lying on the gun. He gritted his teeth while he shifted it out from under his body, the effort costing him greatly. Sweat stood out on his brow and tears obscured his vision as he leveled the rifle, one-handed, at the creature’s back.

  Just then, it launched itself into a loping run toward Derek. Francis steadied himself as best he could and pulled the trigger. The noise from the gunshot was nothing compared to the pain that exploded through his body from the recoil. Broken bones shifted against each other from the resulting shockwave. It was too much for him. He passed out before he got a chance to see whether the shot had hit the mark.

  * * *

  It hadn’t. The bullet went wide, missing both cryptid and crypto hunter alike. However, it did serve to catch both of their attention.

  The creature had closed on Derek with incredible speed. It had been only a few steps away from reaching him when the shot was fired. It stopped and raised its hands to its head with a piteous mewl of pain. Derek turned, saw this, and at first thought the shot had hit home. Unfortunately, though, the creature didn’t go down. It just held its hands to its ears for a moment while it shook its head, sending drool and snot flying.

  Derek used the distraction to free his handgun. As he unholstered it, the squatch took another lumbering step toward him. Simultaneously, he brought the gun up and shuffled a few steps backward.

  Just as he squeezed the trigger, his leg struck something. Losing his balance, he fell – the shot going over the creature’s head.

  Derek landed on his ass with an “Oof!” Despite the impending threat, he glanced at what he’d tripped over ... his eyes opening wide once realization hit. Though the body was covered in blood and its upper half in ruins, he could see just enough to know it was his tracker. “Chuck! Jesus Christ!” he exhaled, despite it being a particularly poor time for even the simplest expression of grief. He looked up, again raising the weapon, and saw at once his distraction would be a costly one.

  As he futilely tried to line up a kill shot, one of the creature’s enormous hands closed over his. Its fist squeezed shut, and Derek screamed in pain. It had never even been a contest. The bones in his right hand might as well have been made of paper, as far as the beast’s strength was concerned. It was crushed into pulp.

  Even so, whether through force of will or pressure from the squatch’s grip, his index finger somehow managed to squeeze the trigger.

  The heavy caliber bullet flew from the barrel and slammed into the creature’s shoulder. A spray of blood washed over Derek as the alpha screamed. It let go of him and the gun tumbled out of his now useless fingers.

  The pain was incredible. Darkness played at the edge of his vision, causing him to bite down onto his tongue to keep from passing out. As much as he might have welcomed it, he knew it would be a really bad idea to let unconsciousness take him.

  The bullet would have blown a man’s arm most of the way off, but Derek was doubtful he’d done much more than piss off the already enraged beast. He needed to put some distance between them, and quickly, too.

  He scanned the street, looking for something he could use to his advantage. He saw the ruined remains of the van a couple dozen yards away. That was no good. Even if he could wedge himself in the back, the squatch would most likely just finish the job of crushing it. Then his eyes glanced toward the bed and breakfast. It was right across the street, its front door wide open.

  Beggars can’t be choosers. Cradling his broken hand against his body, he used his good arm to scramble back to his feet. There was a moment when his eyes again locked with the creature’s, and then he was off, running as quickly as his legs could carry him.

  Behind him, the squatch’s cries changed pitch. Gone was the pain and in its place pure hatred. Bounding up the stairs to the dark B&B, Derek silently hoped someone had left a spare howitzer lying about. He was beginning to doubt that anything less would stop the beast.

  * * *

  Harrison emerged from an alleyway, close to where he’d earlier gotten clobbered. He turned toward the main road and immediately saw the two men lying on the ground. Taking a quick look around and not spying any of the creatures, he ran over to them.

  The first was Mitchell. Harrison rolled him over and saw that the side of his face was covered in blood. He groaned weakly when moved, but didn’t awaken. He was alive, though. That was the important thing. Harrison then went to check on the other man. If anything, Francis looked to be in even worse shape than Mitchell. Fortunately, he, too, was still breathing.

  He was debating how best to help them when he heard the sound of a gunshot. Harrison instinctively ducked, although he was vaguely aware that the chance of someone mistaking him for one of those monsters was pretty slim. He crouched low, just in case he was wrong, and debated calling out to the shooter when a second gunshot rang out. A howl of pain rose up in response, and Harrison zeroed in on the sound. Straining his eyes in the darkness, he saw it. One of the creatures was standing further down the street, its size and shape unmistakable. From the look of things, it might’ve even been the same one that had chased him earlier.

  It appeared to be clutching its arm as it let out another bellow. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why. Good! I hope that hurt, fucker! Harrison thought, listening to its screams. Unfortunately, it didn’t fall. A second later, a smaller figure darted out from the beast’s shadow and ran for the place they’d been staying at. He couldn’t see much detail from this distance, but it looked to be about Derek’s size. The person ran up the stairs, disappearing inside the doorway as the creature roared again and took off in pursuit.

  Harrison debated his course of action for a moment, then stepped to where Francis lay – not to help him but to reach for what he was still holding. He pulled the rifle from the unconscious man’s limp grasp before turning back toward the bed and breakfast. Hefting the gun, he began walking down the street.

  Time to return the favor.

  Chapter 35

  Derek really hoped he hadn’t just run into his own tomb. He knew full well that at least one of the creatures had been in there tonight. If another was waiting for him, he’d be abso
lutely screwed. If not, though, then he might have a chance. Out in the open, he knew he couldn’t outrun the squatch. Despite their immense size, they were capable of hitting speeds only the best of Olympians could match. Fortunately for him, most buildings hadn’t been designed with nine-foot giants in mind. The low ceilings and narrow hallways of the B&B would hopefully hamper its progress, or so Derek was betting his life on.

  He skidded on something slick, almost lost his footing, but then managed to ride it out. Glad I skateboarded as a kid, he mused, his feet hitting dry floor again, allowing him to continue onward. Entering a large room, the lobby it seemed, he saw a choice of either going up the stairs or continuing on toward the rear of the building.

  He heard a noise behind him, the squatch no doubt. It was coming after him – quickly, too, from the sound of it. A moment later, there came a bellow, followed by a crash. “Watch your step!” he called over his shoulder with the manic laugh of a man close to coming unhinged.

  Derek didn’t like his chances going forward. If the back of the B&B was fenced in, that could be trouble. With his smashed hand, he wasn’t in any shape to be climbing. There was also the fact that, out in the open, the creature had all the advantages. A thought hit him: If it worked for that other squatch, maybe it’ll work for me. A second later, he was vaulting up the stairs.

  * * *

  Two more shots rang out in the night. Danni didn’t really know guns, but nevertheless it sounded different than the earlier one. The second gunshot was followed immediately by the scream of one of those monsters. There was no mistaking it. She was certain she’d be hearing that sound in her nightmares for the rest of her life.

  Pushing herself onward, she realized she could see light ahead. Shortly thereafter, she noticed there was a flickering quality to it as the smell of smoke drifted toward her. Fire. She didn’t know whether it was caused by the creatures or set by another survivor. Either way, there seemed to be a fight going on. Unfortunately, she had no idea who was winning.

  Looking down at the axe in her hand, she realized how small it seemed – surely insignificant against one of those giant apes. No! She shook her head and cleared that thought out. It might be small, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be enough to tip the odds. She had to keep positive thoughts like that in mind. Holding her head up high, she continued toward the battleground.

  * * *

  A mere scream wouldn’t have done the pain justice. Fate, it seemed, had a cruel sense of irony insofar as Derek was concerned. As he had raced along the second floor, still chuckling at the spill the squatch had taken downstairs, he’d tripped over something in the hallway and tumbled ass over teakettle. Landing on his bad hand, the feeling had been so intense that, for a few moments, all he could do was lie there and gasp for breath. Tears were still streaming down his face when he heard it clambering up the stairs after him. Whatever it was he’d fallen over, it had erased his lead. The creature was mere moments from ending this in its favor.

  He gritted his teeth to deal with the pain. It was incredible, but at least he was no longer in danger of passing out. Not without half a bottle of Percocet. Pulling his hand out from under himself, he used his intact appendages to crawl over whatever had tripped him up – focused on his own survival. Regardless, as he made his way slowly forward, he became aware that he was crawling over a body. If anything, that steeled his resolve to make it out of this alive. He had no intention of being another name on the mass grave this town had become.

  He finally pulled himself over the corpse and found the floor again. It was slick and sticky, which didn’t come as a particular surprise. At least it was solid, allowing him to get back to his feet. A creaking of the floor boards behind him, though, told him that he was out of time. The beast had caught up to him.

  He felt a puff of rancid breath on the back of his neck and instinctively ducked. Just then, something large swung over his head, crashing into the wall. Studs cracked like toothpicks as a rain of drywall dust settled upon him, prickling his nose. Great, I get to die sneezing, he thought, launching himself forward out of its reach.

  The creature snarled, still coming for him as he pushed himself into the bedroom. He saw the opening ahead of him, the frame grossly distorted from where the other beast had earlier forced itself through. Throwing caution to the wind, he jumped out of the same window that had seen almost as much traffic that night as the front door.

  Several beings, both human and otherwise, had already used that egress successfully in their endeavors. Unfortunately, whatever luck was bestowed upon the previous wayfarers had been used up by the time Derek leaped from it. He hit the ground badly and felt a painful pop as his right ankle buckled beneath him. Toppling over, he once again landed on his broken hand, crying out as a rainbow of agonizing stars exploded in front of his eyes.

  This is starting to become a habit. He rolled onto his back and glanced upward. The alpha was leaning out the window, watching him. Though he knew it was little more than an animal, a crazed one at that, he could have sworn he saw a look of triumph in its eyes. Had it been able to speak, Derek wouldn’t have been surprised to hear it issue a pithy comment regarding any last words.

  The situation had “hopeless” written all over it, but still he refused to accept his fate lying down. Using his good hand, he rolled to his knees and tested out his hurt ankle. He put some weight on it, and pain lanced up his leg. Fortunately, it was far less excruciating than what he’d felt from his hand. It wasn’t broken, just badly sprained.

  My luck is improving. If I get out of this, I’ll have to play the lottery.

  His ankle was already swelling inside of his boot; however, hobbling was better than crawling by any stretch of the imagination. He pushed himself to his feet just as he heard the dull thud behind him he’d been expecting. The creature had jumped out the window and landed only a few feet away.

  * * *

  Whatever gods protect against sprained ankles smiled more kindly on the squatch, Derek noted. Blood poured freely from the wound in its shoulder, but it still appeared to have a lot of fight left in it. Probably enough to kill me, then go strangle half a dozen bulldozers.

  It bared its teeth at him, then raised its head to howl. It was long and loud, splitting the quiet of the night like thunder. It sounded of rage, of hatred, of victory. At last, it lowered its gaze to meet Derek’s. Its eyes were red and runny, but the look in them spoke volumes. This must be what it’s like to stare down a serial killer.

  It took a slow step forward. Derek contemplated his next action with the speed of thought. Running was out of the question. He would have to stand and fight. Unfortunately, he doubted the creature would feel even his best haymaker. That left just one thing, he mused, drawing back his injured leg. What he was about to do would hurt like a motherfucker – hopefully for the creature, too. As a man, Derek knew that in all the world there was one universal way to slow down a bipedal male: a good solid kick to the balls. He was preparing to do just that when a voice spoke out from behind the beast.

  “Hey, you hairy asshole, forget about me?”

  * * *

  The challenge was won. The Alpha could see it in the two-legged thing’s eyes. It had put up a good fight, had even wounded him, but there had been only one possible conclusion in the end. The Alpha was supreme, the Alpha of all other alphas. He would kill the two-legged thing slowly. Mercy was beyond his comprehension by that point. But first, he would make the stupid thing scream. It would scream long and loud, so that all others knew the futility of challenging him.

  He was about to unleash his fury upon it when there came another sound behind him. It was the chatter of another two-legged thing. He did not understand their words, but he could understand the tone. It was yet another challenge.

  The Alpha turned his back on his current foe. The first two-legged thing was injured, weak. It could neither fight nor run. There would be plenty of time to deal with it.

  He grunted
in surprise as he saw what awaited him. He blinked some pus away, clearing his vision, and saw that it was true. The original alpha of the two-legged things – the one who had taunted him, challenged him, and then somehow managed to evade him – was back. It was standing in the entrance of the dwelling he had just leaped from. It chattered some more with that same insolent tone, then raised the fire stick it was holding.

  * * *

  “See you in Hell, Chewbacca,” Harrison said, pulling the trigger.

  The response was a dry click from the rifle.

  The creature cocked its head to the side, as if confused.

  For a moment, time seemed to stand still.

  Derek looked past the beast and saw that Harrison, his eyes wide with fear, was holding Francis’s bolt action rifle. In an instant, he realized what had happened. His cameraman had fired at the creature earlier, but for whatever reason hadn’t been able to fire again or chamber his next shot. Harrison had at some point picked it up and never bothered to check. The kid wasn’t a hunter. Hadn’t he said something earlier about not knowing anything about guns?

  Sadly, whatever momentary reprieve they’d been given was up. Time resumed its normal course.

  He screamed, “The bolt! Pull it back!”

  Harrison was frozen in place for another second. Finally, though, the words seemed to hit home. He began frantically working the lever on the gun, but Derek could see that he was going to be too late.

  Launching himself at the sasquatch’s back, he tried to buy the younger man another few seconds, but the creature was crafty. It heard his clumsy attack. Without breaking stride, it swung a backhand at him. It was only a glancing blow, but it sent Derek sprawling into the street.

  As Harrison frantically tried to ready another shot, the creature advanced. The alpha wrapped its arms around him as if welcoming him home after a long time away. Bones crunched as the creature began to squeeze. Harrison made a gurgling noise, but it was all he could manage before his lungs collapsed.