by Jeff Strand
He stopped right between them.
I hadn’t heard a peep from Kyle. Maybe Ogre was just taking a break at an outrageously inconvenient location.
He looked up into the tree.
I stifled a whimper.
Ogre walked around to get a better look.
That was it. The big guy had to die. I pointed the gun at him and willed my arms to quit shaking so I could be absolutely, positively certain not to miss.
I held my aim steady. He was going to get it in the back of the head.
I squeezed the trigger.
The click sounded so loud that I was positive it had echoed throughout the entire forest.
Ogre spun around and looked up into my tree. Even though I was mostly hidden in the branches, I knew he saw me.
Especially after he waved.
The gesture was lighthearted, but Ogre looked no less furious.
I pulled the trigger several more times, hoping it had been a weapon malfunction, but more clicks, not bullets, issued from the gun.
While it seemed like a guy his size was unlikely to be up to the task of climbing trees, he could certainly call for reinforcements.
He removed the walkie-talkie from his belt and put it to his lips.
I leapt down from the tree.
He wasn’t expecting my attack, but he moved faster than I anticipated, and I landed feet-first on the ground instead of on his skull. The impact from the ground made my ankles ache and my legs tremble.
Then he punched me in the stomach so hard I thought his fist was going to rip through my back.
My baby! Mouth open, unable to catch a breath, pain and fear radiating from the center of my being, I doubled over but somehow sustained my footing.
“That is for the kick to the crotch,” Ogre said. He clamped his enormous hand around my neck and forced me into a standing position. “This is for Ghoul.”
He threw me into the air. I struck the ground and lay there, tasting blood, not sure if I’d ever be able to take a breath again.
“Where are your kiddies, Momma Bear?” Ogre asked, looking up in the trees. “It’s been a while since breakfast, and I’m famished.”
I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t move. My body was paralyzed.
Ogre circled Kyle’s tree. “I see you, little boy! Do you want to know why they call me Ogre? Because I eat little boys just like you!”
I tried to scream for Kyle to climb higher, but I couldn’t get my voice to work. I felt like I was going to suffocate right there.
“Why don’t you come on down, little boy, and be my lunch? You know what the best part is? The nose. Yeah, I’ll bite your wee little nose right off.”
I saw movement in the branches. Kyle was climbing.
“Oh, now, don’t run away, little boy! It’ll only make the fall hurt all that much worse.”
With that, Ogre flung the walkie-talkie up into the tree. Kyle cried out and I saw the leaves flutter as he fell.
He grabbed onto the lowest branch and swung there, legs dangling.
With a powerful intake of breath, I sat up.
Kyle struggled mightily to pull himself out of harm’s way, but Ogre grabbed his leg.
“Leave him alone!” Theresa shrieked.
Kyle kicked Ogre in the face with his free foot. Ogre didn’t flinch.
He yanked my son free of the branch. Kyle fell into Ogre’s arms, screaming in terror.
I got to my feet.
My vision was blurred, but it shot into sharp focus as Ogre opened his mouth, leaned his head down toward Kyle’s upper arm, and took a bite.
Chapter Eleven
THE PAIN NO longer mattered. Even hundred-pound metal chains wrapped arou nd my entire body wouldn’t have mattered. I was going to get my child away from that son of a bitch.
Kyle let out a wail that ripped through my heart. Ogre looked over at me and grinned a scarlet grin. A thick rope of blood and drool dangled from the corner of his mouth.
“Mmmmmmmmm,” he said. “Nice and fresh.”
I let out a howl of rage and rushed at him. I was going to tear him apart with my bare hands if I had to.
Ogre casually used his free hand to cuff me on the side of the head. I fell to the ground again.
“Mommy it hurts it hurts it hurts!” Kyle screamed. He kicked violently, repeatedly slamming his feet into Ogre’s gut, but the behemoth didn’t seem to feel it.
“I’m gonna grind your bones to make my bread,” Ogre informed Kyle.
I staggered to my feet.
“Ooooh, Momma Bear’s still got some fight left in her. She must love you a lot, little boy. Or maybe she wants to eat you herself, what about that?”
“Put him down!” I shouted.
Ogre licked the bloody wound on Kyle’s arm in response.
I picked up a large branch, about three feet long, and rushed at him again. I held out the branch like a lance, intending to jam it right through his eye.
Ogre knocked the branch out of my hand then backhanded me across the face. Again, I hit the ground.
“Mommy!” Theresa screamed.
This time, Ogre wasn’t going to let me get back up. I saw his huge foot coming down toward my face and rolled out of the way. I tried to sit up but couldn’t… his shoe had landed on a large chunk of my hair.
I strained to pull free. I was willing to yank out every strand of hair on my head if that’s what it took.
Ogre raised his other foot.
As he looked down at me, a blob of his blood-drool spattered against my cheek.
Kyle’s hand wrapped around Ogre’s face, clawing at his eye. “Leave Mommy alone!” he screamed.
Ogre momentarily lost his balance. His foot slammed down inches from my face. His feet straddled each side of my head.
I reached up between his legs, grabbed tight, and squeezed as hard as I could, using my fingernails.
Ogre squealed.
Then he really lost his balance.
As he stumbled forward, he lifted the foot pinning my hair. I scooted out of the way as he started to fall.
Kyle was going to be crushed beneath him.
They say things move in slow motion during moments where every split second counts, and I found this to be absolutely true. I reached for the arm holding Kyle and raked it with my fingernails, trying to break his grip on my son before he fell.
Ogre’s grasp did not loosen.
Slow motion transformed back into regular speed as he dropped to the ground.
And landed on his knees, not on my son.
For a terrifying moment I thought he’d tumble forward onto his stomach, but he sustained his balance. Kyle frantically but unsuccessfully tried to wiggle free.
Again, I raked Ogre’s arm with my fingernails. Kyle leaned down and bit into the giant’s flesh.
“Ow, shit!” Ogre screamed and released Kyle. He shoved him away. “You goddamn little cannibal!”
I punched Ogre in the face as hard as I could. This time he seemed to feel it.
“Kyle, run!” I shouted.
Ogre slammed his hands onto my shoulders. He stood up, lifting me with him.
“How about I grind your bones, bitch?” he snarled, squeezing his hands together.
My arms were pinned, but I kicked him over and over. By now I was filled with so much adrenaline that the pummeling took its toll. Ogre let me drop then grabbed the back of my neck.
He slammed my face into his gut and pushed hard.
The smell of rotten sweat was almost unbearable.
I couldn’t breathe.
Dear God, I was going to suffocate against the belly of a five-hundred pound maniac. My face was pressed so tightly against his belly that I couldn’t open my mouth to bite him.
I landed several blows with my fists that did absolutely no good.
I felt myself starting to black out.
“You little shit!” Ogre shouted, although his voice seemed to be miles away. “I’ll tear your tiny little-”
I c
ould suddenly breathe again.
“-head off!”
As I pulled away, Theresa jabbed the branch into Ogre’s ribs again. He swatted her aside, only to be met by another branch in his other side, wielded by Kyle.
Though neither of the branches had poked right through his body, Ogre had spots of his own blood on his shirt.
Theresa jabbed him again.
So did Kyle.
In one smooth motion, Ogre swung his arms together, catching each of my children and slamming them into each other.
He tossed their dazed bodies aside as I grabbed my own branch and lunged at him again. This time it tore across the side of his head, still missing his eye.
He snatched the stick out of my hand, picked me up, hoisted me over his head like a professional wrestler, and tossed me into the air. I landed hard next to Kyle and Theresa, sure I’d broken something.
Ogre wiped the blood off the side of his head. “I’m gonna eat all three of you right up,” he said, enraged. “I’m your death. I’m the bogeyman.” He stepped toward us. “And I like little girl meat the best of all.”
Every muscle ached. My bones felt like eggshells. My blood felt like ignited kerosene. But I still got back up… not in a fluid ballerina-like motion, but back up nevertheless… and put myself between this monster and my children.
Ogre raised his fists and smiled. “You really think you can take me?”
I raised my own fists and gave him a steel-eyed gaze. “No.”
“Good. Then we’re in agreement.”
He stepped toward me and I stepped toward him. We slowly circled each other like boxers.
Ogre spat out some blood.
I spat out some of my own.
He was almost five times my size, but I wasn’t backing down.
“I’ll hand it to you, you’ve got some spark,” said Ogre, leering at me as if a fight weren’t the only thing he had planned.
“I’m pregnant.”
Uncertainty flashed in his eyes.
“That’s right. You’re beating up a pregnant lady. I bet that makes you feel like a real man, doesn’t it?”
The leer returned. “You know, I said little girl meat was my favorite, but I was wrong. Do you know what really tastes the best? Do you know what I most like to feel rolling around on my tongue?”
I ran at him, claws extended, before he could finish.
He batted me aside.
“Yeah, you know what I’m talking about,” said Ogre. “Maybe I’ll just suck it right out of your belly for dessert.”
I felt like I was going to vomit. But no. I couldn’t let him get to me. They were just words.
Ogre made a vulgar slurping sound.
I ran at him again.
This time, instead of hitting me, he grabbed my arm and twisted it around my back. I cried out, pain richocheting from shoulder to wrist.
“Shhhhh… not so loud, you’ll wake the baby,” said Ogre.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw something running toward us.
Joe.
The pug latched on to Ogre’s foot and thrashed around, biting and snarling.
Ogre gave it a kick. Joe let out a high-pitched squeal then attacked his leg.
It was enough of a distraction. I reached around and grabbed a handful of blubber, digging my fingernails into Ogre’s gut.
Theresa, who I hadn’t seen get up, slammed a new branch into Ogre’s side.
Ogre released my arm, grabbed my other hand, and pried it off his belly.
Theresa jabbed him again. The tip of the branch broke off in his side.
A second kick, a second squeal, but Joe kept fighting.
Ogre lurched his head down toward my face, mouth wide open, giving me a full blast of his fetid breath.
I leaned out of the way.
He lurched at me again, moving his mouth in an animalistic biting motion. His red teeth clacked together over and over, so viciously I thought he might shatter them.
I swear he growled.
He pushed Theresa out of the way, but she came right back at him, stabbing the branch wherever she could land a blow.
Ogre spun around, practically roaring, and reached for my daughter. I leapt up onto his back, wrapped both of my arms around his neck, and squeezed.
He grabbed my arms and tried to pry them off, but I refused to budge.
Nothing could make me budge.
I squeezed and squeezed, trying to crush his throat.
Ogre staggered away from Theresa, swinging around as he tried to dislodge me. It wasn’t going to happen. I put everything I had, every last bit of strength I possessed in the entire world into breaking his neck.
“I’ll kill you!” he screamed.
I wasn’t squeezing hard enough if he could still scream.
“I’m gonna… gonna…”
He let out a disgusting choking sound.
He stumbled around. My strangulation efforts were clearly doing some good. I couldn’t possibly squeeze any harder, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to let up.
He moved more and more erratically, swaying back and forth. And in an instant of raw horror I realized where our struggle had taken us.
I let go of him and slipped off his back.
His foot snapped the fishing line.
A long metal spear sailed down from the trees, striking the upper left side of his skull. The tip burst through his right thigh.
Ogre stood in place for what felt like an endless moment… then fell.
I stared at him in shock.
Now the forest animals could eat him.
I turned away from the gruesome sight and Theresa rushed into my arms. I gave her a tight hug despite my aching limbs, and we hurried to Kyle, who still lay on the ground. The bite on his arm was deep, but he wouldn’t bleed to death.
I snapped my fingers in front of his face. “Kyle? Are you with me?”
He nodded.
I wrapped my arms around my children. Joe didn’t want to be left out, and licked my hand.
“Is the bogeyman dead?” Kyle asked.
“He wasn’t the bogeyman,” I said. “He was just a big fat loser. And yes, he’s dead.”
Kyle nodded his understanding.
“You were both very brave,” I told them. “And I need you to keep being brave. We’re going to help your father. I’ve got a plan.”
Chapter Twelve
IT’S ANDREW AGAIN.
“One for you,” said Troll, giving me a quick cut on th e leg, “and one for me.” He cut himself on the leg in the same spot. “One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” said Witch, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Let’s get him back to the truck.”
“One for you…”
“I said, that’s enough!”
“Sometimes I think you don’t appreciate the finer things in life.”
“It’s a wonder you have any skin left.”
“You should see me naked.”
“All right, enough! Let’s get moving.”
Witch kept her gun pointed at me while Troll stood up and pulled me to my feet. “Ready to go for walkies?”
“No, but I’m ready to crap on your front lawn.”
“We don’t really have a front lawn.”
I almost offered to crap on his shoes, but there have to be minimum standards to even this type of conversation. With Witch keeping me very nicely covered with her gun, I got up and we headed back toward the store.
“So, Troll, is that your real name?” I asked.
Troll chuckled. “Do you always ask such dumb questions?”
“No, I just thought that might be how you guys met. Maybe at a party or something. ‘Hi, I’m Troll.’ ‘No way, I’m Witch!’ ‘Wow, your parents hated you, too, huh?’ ‘Oh yeah. So, do you want to get together and hunt innocent vacationers in the Georgia shrubbery?’ ‘Sure, why not?’”
Troll snorted. “Like I said, you’re a funny guy.”
“Did you
get to pick your own names?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s cool. Otherwise somebody could’ve gotten stuck with Orc or something. You just don’t want to go around saying ‘Hi, I’m Orc.’ Or maybe Pixie. Why didn’t you pick Dragon, though? Dragon would’ve been much cooler than Troll. When I think Troll, I think of a weasely little hairy thing living under a bridge eating goats.”
“You know, Andrew, the only reason I’m letting you yammer on like this is because you’re a dead man. Might as well get all the talking in while you still can.”
“I disagree,” said Witch. “Shut the fuck up.”
“You heard the lady,” Troll told me.
I stopped talking for the rest of the walk.
***
WE REACHED THE store and went inside. “Oh, hell no,” said Charlie, emerging from the far aisle. “Don’t bring him back in here again!”
“He’ll be good this time,” Troll assured him. “All we want is some duct tape.”
“Yeah, right. You shove any more of those candy bars in your pockets and I’ll have your self-mutilating ass.”
“Oh, waah, waah, waah. Quit being such a baby. When was the last time you had a customer in this place? Jeez, you’ve got gallons of milk in the cooler that are completely solid. I’ve seen ‘em.”
Witch held her walkie-talkie to her mouth. “Goblin, you there?”
“Yeah.”
“We’re at Charlie’s place.”
“I’m right around the corner. I’ll be there before Troll can steal a pack of Rolos.”
“Gotcha. Witch out.”
Troll took a new roll of duct tape off one of the shelves and unspooled an armlength of it. “Put out your hands.”
I obliged, if only because Witch hadn’t stopped pointing that gun at me. Troll wrapped the duct tape around my wrists several times, binding them together.
“Put some over his mouth,” said Witch.
“I don’t think they make a roll big enough for that.”
“Just do it.”
Troll put a long strip of duct tape over my mouth.
A truck pulled into the parking lot outside. The motor turned off, and then Goblin entered the store.
“Oh my goodness,” he said, grinning at me. “You’re looking kind of humble there, Andrew.”
I said something amazingly clever that was muffled by the duct tape.
