A scratching sound from above caught Clifton’s attention. Scorpion clung to the ceiling over his head. Attached to its tail were two orbs the size of bowling balls that glistened a deep crimson. Scorpion moved around the wall and entered June’s bedroom though the open balcony. Clifton followed it inside.
* * *
June’s body ached all over. She lay upon her bed naked and drenched with sweat. Her pillows, sheets and comforter were all ripped away and lying on the floor in a pile. The bare mattress was askew, hanging almost half off of the frame. She watched with bemusement as the sky outside her window changed from violet to gold. Exhaustion pulled on her, and she knew that when she gave in she would most likely sleep for days. She ran her hand gingerly down her stomach.
The mating had taken all night. There had been no pleasure at all in the act, neither for her nor for Clifton. There was satisfaction, but more in the way one feels after completing an arduous task. She knew that Clifton preferred men over women, but still he hadn’t been able to stop. He had held her down as though she might flee, but she remained docile until the end. The red substance in the orbs—Scorpion had called it royal jelly—had enlivened her, but after several hours the immense pain smoldering within told her that the mating needed to end. To continue would mean death.
She had scratched and spat and screamed yet Clifton would not relent. He continued on with a glassy look, drool running down his chin, as though all of his sanity had followed his seed. She called for Scorpion to help her, but it did not come. Finally, when the pain reached its zenith, she clasped her hands together and hammered her fists into the side of his neck. Clifton rolled off and fell to the floor with a grunt. He jumped up and prepared to mount her again, but June was already on her feet, screaming. To her surprise he had fled.
Now, as the sun peeked over the trees and an unnatural sleep sought to claim her, she could hear him roaming the floor below, ceaselessly muttering to himself. She no longer feared him, but instead drew comfort from his presence. He was her guardian. Her knight. He would protect her and the prize in her womb even if it meant his own death.
She rubbed her stomach again and muttered the word “Mother.” That’s all she had ever really wanted out of life. More than wealth, more than a husband, more than love, and now the fruit of her womb was to be something miraculous. Something divine.
The life within her stirred and she gasped as the flesh around her navel fluttered. The sensation wasn’t painful, but it wasn’t pleasant, either. It was like having a stomach full of live fish. June placed both hands on her stomach. She wanted to calm the rumbling within her, but she was afraid that if she pressed down too hard she might injure the babies (for she now realized there was more than one).
It took several minutes but the commotion in her womb settled. June dropped her hands to her sides. The exhaustion overwhelmed her. She tried to reach up and wipe the sweat-drenched hair from her face, but she couldn’t lift her arms. Her eyes closed against her will. An infinite darkness enveloped her. A terrible weight hung upon her soul, pulling her down into the black abyss.
As June slept she began to change.
* * *
Downstairs Clifton moved from room to room. He was weary, but he couldn’t shake off the nervous energy buzzing through him like an electrical current. First he moved about checking and locking all the windows. He spent some time dragging a handcrafted solid oak china cabinet across the room to block the broken window. He had to secure the cabin. He had to protect June.
He stopped and listened. All was silent. June had been restless, moaning and talking to herself around daybreak, but now all was quiet. He started for the stairs then stopped. If she were in trouble she would call to him. But what if she was ill? He climbed the first few steps then turned around and came back down. No, a knight should not enter the queen’s chamber unless bidden.
He went to the kitchen to search for food, knowing full well there was none. He had already devoured the remains of the raccoon, picking the bones clean like a vulture. He tried to push the image from his mind. He didn’t want to feast on such vile things, but he was possessed of a hunger that went so much farther than his stomach. If only Scorpion would bring some more royal jelly. It was a disgusting substance, rank in odor and putrid in taste, but it was the only thing that could satiate this demonic hunger.
Clifton thought of the mating and his stomach churned. There had been no humanity in him. He had been lost to his bestial urges. He hoped that June wasn’t hurt. The way she had fought him away in the end, the fierce look on her face . . . . He pressed his hands to his eyes as if this could blur her image in his mind.
Clifton left the kitchen and started another circuit around the house, this time closing all of the curtains. If someone were to look in and see the mess then they might be concerned enough to call the authorities. Besides, the darkness would give him an edge over any enemies that might invade their sanctuary.
“I’m so tired.” He was startled by the desperation in his own voice. “Please, just let me sleep.”
But he could not.
* * *
Scorpion moved through the forest, searching. The cabin was adequate for Clifton to protect June until the first generation was born, but it was not fit for the true hive. Though the trees were full and thick in certain places, there didn’t seem to be anywhere that provided the safety needed.
Scorpion continued outward from the cabin in a spiral pattern. It could cover large distances at a fast pace if needed. The sun was midway to noon. Golden shafts broke through the canopy of budding leaves. Scorpion detected no humans nearby, but it remained cloaked never the less. It passed close to a small heard of grazing deer. They stood alert as the stirring of leaves broke the silence. They looked about, agitated noses sniffing the air. The deer couldn’t see through Scorpion’s disguise, yet nature had taught them to err on the side of caution. The noise and strange scent were all the warnings they needed. With a few grunts they bounded off through the underbrush.
Scorpion continued on. The topography of the forest consisted of a series of plateaus and valleys formed by extinct rivers. Great chunks of limestone broke through the topsoil like giant teeth. Further on a large stone, milled to a near perfect cube, stood among the trees like an ancient druid alter. The hill grew steep, the ground uneven. The subtle scent of water filled the air.
Scorpion topped the hill and looked down on a large pond set in the earth like a square crater. The water was the color of moss and it stood as placid as glass. This side of the pond stood nestled against a steep hill that was blanketed with countless stone cubes, all haphazardly stacked upon each other.
There were countless gaps formed by the poorly stacked stones, but none large enough to fit its needs . . . except for one. Near the top of the pile, the stones were stacked in a way that looked like a small doorway. Scorpion entered and found that the stones had in fact been placed around the entrance to a cave.
The tunnel fell sharply before opening into a large chamber. A foot of water covered the cavern floor, but the ceiling was high, with many shelves gouged into the walls. Scorpion searched the depth of the cave, but all other paths dead-ended. It was perfect: large, impenetrable, and easy to defend. Here it would create a true nest.
Rabbit Trick
Casper sat at the kitchen table, flipping through the newspaper, occasionally glancing out the window at the sullen gray sky. A miasma of mist hung in the air blurring the fine lines of the world, making everything look like a dream-scene from some cheesy movie. His own dreams had been heavy last night, though now he couldn’t quite remember what they were about. When he tried to recall, all he could see was a frightened rabbit viewed through three sets of eyes.
He had his leg propped up on the chair next to him, but he couldn’t quite find a comfortable position. In the days since he had been home from the hospital, he had greatly improved. Then again, he had always been a fast healer. He still needed the crutches, but he forced himself
to put weight on the leg. The pain had dulled to a manageable level, but the wet weather seemed to have brought an all-over ache to his upper thigh.
He feared that he was going to end up one of those old men that could predict the coming rain by the arthritis in his knees. Might as well buy some plaid pants with an elastic waist band and pull those suckers up to his nipples.
Casper sipped his coffee then peeked at a headline that read: THIRD SEARCH FOR MISSING MUSEUM CURATOR SCHEDULED FOR THIS WEEKEND.
Maggie walked into the kitchen with Lucy in tow. Lucy tromped over to Casper in her Hello Kitty rain boots, swishing her rain jacket as she went. “Hi daddy.” She leaned in so he could give the customary morning kiss to her forehead.
“Mornin’ sweetheart. You all ready for school?”
“Yep.” She flopped down in the chair across from him and began gnawing at the waffle Maggie placed before her.
Maggie stepped to his side and looked down on the newspaper. “Anything good?”
“Good is a relative term. Did you know this guy?”
“Who?”
“The museum guy that vanished a couple weeks ago.”
“No. Should I?”
“Well, he works at your school.”
Maggie grinned, but he could still see the embers of past arguments glowing in her eyes. “Demaree might not be Big Ten, but it’s not community college, either. I’m the new girl. It’ll take me a while to meet everyone.”
“Just giving you a hard time, Nurse Ratchet.” It seemed he still had embers of his own. He looked back to the newspaper so she couldn’t read his eyes. “It’s just weird. The guy leaves his house one day and poof, he’s gone.”
“What about the groundskeeper? That’s even weirder.”
“You mean the thing at the golf course? The paper said that was most likely a hoax.”
Maggie shook her head. “I don’t know. They found the guy’s shredded clothes, didn’t they?”
“Yeah, but those couldn’t have been his remains. The paper said they found something that looked like ashes or soot. It’s a hoax.”
Maggie popped two more waffles in the toaster for Tad and Beth. “Okay, smart guy. Then where is the groundskeeper?”
“I don’t know. Maybe in Jamaica with the golf pro’s wife?”
“Lucy, your daddy is a funny man.”
Lucy looked up and giggled as if she had been told a hilarious joke.
“That’s two people missing within a couple of weeks,” Maggie said. “Maybe I should drive the kids to school.”
“Don’t start that.” Casper folded the paper and placed it on the table. “Shadeland isn’t a small town. From time to time bad things happen. But it’s not like we’re in downtown Detroit.”
“I know, but it would make me feel better.”
Casper shrugged. “If you want.”
Beth and Tad came dragging into the kitchen a few minutes later. They had that fresh zombie look that afflicted most preteens on gray school days.
“Buck up you guys,” Casper said. “Summer is almost here. Another month and you’re free.” They both gave an uncommitted grunt. “At least you don’t have to ride the bus today.”
They both looked up, interested, but it was Beth that asked, “Why not?”
“Because—”
“Because,” Maggie interrupted him. “I don’t want you to have to stand at the bus stop on a rainy day like this.” She knew her husband didn’t like to candy-coat things, especially with the kids.
From the looks on their faces, the kids weren’t buying one word. But a free ride was a free ride, so no one pushed the subject.
After their breakfast of waffles and orange juice, the three kids lined up to say goodbye to their dad. Beth and Lucy both kissed Casper on the cheek; Tad settled for patting him on the head. The three went into the garage to pile into the Navigator. Maggie gave Casper a peck on the cheek then looked at him for a moment.
“What?”
“You gonna be alright here by yourself?”
“What do you think will happen? I’ll fall and not be able to get back up? I’m not geriatric. I don’t need a Life-Alert bracelet.”
A spark of hurt flared in her eyes, but she let the subject go. “Don’t forget Patrick McTreaty is coming over for dinner tonight.”
“And why would I forget that?”
“At your age the mind tends to go.”
“Funny.”
Lucy’s head popped through the door just under her mother’s arm. “Hey, daddy. Don’t forget to feed the doggies, okay.”
Casper clenched his jaw. His pulse throbbed in his temples. Maybe he was getting old. In his younger days he would have never caved on the decision to keep the dogs. Dale Wicket had been right. Casper should never have let the kids give the dogs names. In a child’s mind, to name a dog is to own a dog. It was too late now regardless. The kids were smitten. Maybe they had just caught him at a weak moment, with the pain meds and all. He smiled at Lucy. “I won’t, baby-cakes.”
Lucy giggled. “And play with them, too, so they don’t get bored or lonely.”
“I think they’ll be just fine,” Maggie said. “They have each other for company.” Then she ushered their youngest out the door before she could make any more requests.
Casper sat sipping his coffee, looking at the newspaper but not actually reading it. He considered the two strange incidents. The museum guy didn’t bother him too much. People vanish every day. Hell, there was any number of ways to explain missing persons other than foul play. Perhaps the guy had suffered a nervous breakdown and just wandered off into the wide world. Maybe he was being theatrical and was somewhere watching to see how badly he was missed. The guy was somewhere. It wasn’t like he had been abducted by UFOs, or stepped out of his front door into the Twilight Zone.
No, it was the groundskeeper that occupied his mind most. Not because of the mysterious remains found along with the clothes, but the proximity of the site. Cypress Villa was just down the street. Tad had been playing at the park that very same day that they found the groundskeeper’s clothes. He had come home with King, the yellow lab, claiming the dog refused to leave his side.
A wave of irritation rolled through him when he thought of the uninvited dogs. It wasn’t that he had anything against them. He just didn’t like the idea of having three. Dogs behaved differently when in a group. But somehow in one day all three of his kids had befriended a different dog and each one was unwilling to part with their choice.
Casper stood up, grabbed his crutches and went out on the back deck. He sighed as he looked down at the trio of food bowls and the large water dish that Maggie had purchased yesterday. The bowls were scattered around, so he took a moment to knock them closer together with his crutches. The sound of the metal bowls clanging rang out like a dinner bell and the three dogs came running. The dogs leapt up the stairs and had a Three Stooges moment when, in their exuberance, they became momentarily lodged together in between the rail posts. They quickly wiggled themselves free and darted over to the bowls in a furry blur of panting tongues and wagging tails.
King, given this name by Tad, kept trading between a standing and sitting position as if he couldn’t decide which was more comfortable. He tilted his head side to side, seemingly confused by something. The Australian Shepherd, named Sky for her ghostly blue eyes, was more composed than her yellow friend. She sat as the Sphinx, her eerie eyes fixed on Casper. Her body was covered in a long coat of shiny white fur except for the splashing of black around her muzzle and hind quarter. A smear of gold covered the sides of her face and the bottoms of all four legs. The little black dog—a Schipperke, they had learned after an hour of searching the internet—stood wagging her tail so hard her back legs skipped back and forth. Beth named her Shadow.
Casper looked down on King, Sky and Shadow. None of the dogs wore a collar. Were they fixed? Had they had their shots? He couldn’t believe he let Maggie and kids talk him into this.
He dumped the food
into their bowls. King and Sky started for the food, but Shadow stopped them with a loud growl and a couple of warning snaps. The two larger dogs yielded to their miniature master by rolling onto their backs. Shadow sniffed around their necks, but gave no other threat. And with their rudeness forgiven, King and Sky rolled to their bellies and sniffed at Shadow’s vulpine ears.
Casper laughed out loud. “You better hope they never figure out what a short shit you are. They might turn you into an appetizer.”
Shadow sat down with her broad chest puffed out and looked about as if to say I’m not worried.
The dogs gobbled the dry food with greedy chomps, occasionally wagging their tails. Casper started to turn to go back inside, but stopped when he noticed something out in the yard. About forty yards from the house was a brown lump. Casper hobbled down the deck stairs and out into the yard. Halfway there he realized what he was looking at. He had dreamed of it last night.
The rabbit lay on its side as if sleeping, except that its head was turned at an odd angle. A shimmer of fear was still visible behind the clouded, glassy eyes. Its soft fur rippled in the slight breeze and looked inviting to the touch. He could tell by the rabbit’s legs that the body was stiff with rigor mortis.
It was a good thing Beth or Lucy hadn’t seen this. There weren’t enough tissues in the world to dry up those tears. When he turned around King, Sky and Shadow all sat in a row watching him. Three tails beat the ground and they had a look of pride in their eyes. Look at what we caught, is what they seemed to say.
“Go on,” Casper said brushing his crutch at the dogs. The trio began to bounce and play as if they had been given great praise for their kill. “Don’t we feed you freeloaders enough?”
The dogs continued their playful wrestling as they followed him to the house. They remained on the back deck, waiting for him when he returned with the trash bag.
“Don’t you three have somewhere else to be?”
Sky tried to nuzzle against his leg, caught his crutch in mid-swing and nearly tripped him. After a few words that he kept hidden from his kids, and a few swings at the dogs with his crutch (which they took as a playful gesture), he made his way back to the rabbit.
Predatory Animals Page 8
