Predatory Animals

by Gabriel Beyers

  The catchers opened the back of the van where three cages were standing ready. Casper looked at the dogs and nodded toward the van. “Climb in.”

  The three dogs went to the back of the van and leapt in (though Shadow waited a moment until her larger friends were nestled in their own cages). The dog catchers locked each cage, but seemed none too impressed with the dogs’ obedience.

  The children watched until the van disappeared down the road. When it was gone, they cast a sullen glare at their father.

  “I better go in and call your mom,” Casper said.

  As he started for the front door, something in the yard caught Casper’s attention. By the time he looked back it was gone. He couldn’t be sure, but for a moment he thought he saw a blast of heat distort the air.

  Hidden in the Leaves

  Patrick brushed the leaves away with a stick to reveal the creature beneath. “This is incredible. How did you find it?”

  Casper shifted around to get a better look at the thing. “The dogs were trying to show it to me yesterday, but after finding Rebecca Reid’s hand, I didn’t want to see any more.” He paused for a moment, swallowing a pang of guilt. “Then, last night, I had a dream about it. I knew you’d like it. Now what is it?”

  “I don’t know.” Patrick prodded the creature with the stick, ready to run at the first sign of movement. But it didn’t move. It was dead. “It looks like some cross between a house-centipede, a praying mantis and a scorpion. It’s not unheard of for insects to crossbreed, but there is no way this can be an insect.”

  It sure looked like an insect to Casper, albeit one from the bowels of Hell. “Are you sure?”

  Patrick’s face was alight with a strange mixture of excitement and horror. “Mother Nature has this nice set of rules to keep insects from growing too large. They don’t develop lungs; their body structure couldn’t support the weight, things like that. If they could, we’d have spiders the size of elephants and the human race would be extinct.”

  Casper looked down upon the atrocity hidden among the leaves and the word extinct brought goose bumps out all over his body. “So what is it then? A space alien?”

  “It could be some kind of mutation or experiment gone wrong. Or maybe just a hoax.” Patrick rocked back on his heels. His face grew taught as a dark idea passed through his mind.

  “What are you thinking?” Casper wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

  “St. Francis,” Patrick mumbled.

  “You think this thing came from St. Francis?”

  “Come on, Cas,” he said standing to his feet. “You used to be a high up military guy. You’re telling me in all your many years you never ran across secret government shit?”

  “Nothing I can talk about. And my years aren’t that many.” Casper meant it as a joke, but the humor fell flat.

  Patrick paced and Casper imagined the great biological computer between his ears powering up. “It’s just like Plum Island and the Montauk Monster.”

  “Okay, now you’re just talking gibberish. Can you please translate?”

  “You know, Plum Island, the secret biological warfare facility off the coast of New York. Everyone knows about that place.”

  “So, it’s a secret that everyone knows about? How does that work?”

  Patrick shook his finger, but a large smile spanned his face. “Don’t get smart, now.”

  “Okay, so what’s this Monark Monster?”

  “Montauk. Don’t you ever watch the news or surf the internet?”

  Casper shrugged. “Not enough, I guess.”

  “The Montauk Monster washed up on a beach in New York.” Patrick got lost in his thoughts for a moment. “Could have been rotted raccoon, or a turtle that lost its shell. But no one ever found out. It looked weird as hell. Anyway, some people thought the Montauk Monster was an escaped experiment from Plum Island.”

  “So, you think St. Francis is a secret government facility like Plum Island? And this thing escaped?” Casper had never seen Patrick so excited, he was almost giddy.

  “Think about it for a moment. All of the security and the armed guards; the razor wire and surveillance cameras. What if St. Francis is just another Plum Island hiding within the cat park? And what if this thing did escape? Or was let go.”

  The heat drained from Casper’s blood. Though Patrick wouldn’t believe it, in all the time Casper spent in the Marines he never once visited a secret government compound or was privy to any conspiracies. “What should we do?”

  Patrick looked down at the creature. “I want to dissect it.”

  “Great,” Casper said without much enthusiasm. “Better you than me. Where are you going to take it? Demaree?”

  “Oh no, brother. We have to do it here.”

  “You mean here as in right here?

  “‘Fraid not. We need somewhere more discrete, like your house.”

  Casper waved his hands in protest. “I don’t think so, Dr. Frankenstein. You’re not cutting that thing up in my house. Take it to the science labs at Demaree.”

  Patrick crossed his arms over his massive chest. “We can’t do that. Someone might see it.”

  “So?”

  “If this thing is a natural phenomenon then I would love to unveil it to the world. But if it is a hoax, or worse, from St. Francis, then the best thing to do right now is keep it quiet.”

  Casper didn’t see the point of dissecting it. He’d just as soon burn it. “Fine, but we can’t take that into my house. Maggie and the kids would freak.”

  “What about the pole barn?”

  “That would work, I guess.”

  Patrick poked at the corpse again. “We need a trash bag to scoop this thing up in.” Casper started to leave to get the bag, but Patrick stopped him. “Do you have anything sharp like a scalpel or an Exacto-knife?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” Casper started for the house, but Patrick called to him again.

  “Bring your video camera, too. Ooh, I better get some pictures.” Patrick fished his cell phone from his back pocket and started taking photos.

  The children were still angry with him for letting Animal Control take the dogs, so they had cloistered themselves in their rooms. Hell, they were refusing to speak to him . . . even Lucy. But Maggie was in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher.

  She looked over at him when he entered and flashed him a small smile. She didn’t like that the dogs had been taken away, but considering what had happened to Rebecca Reid, she understood why it had to be done.

  “What are you and Patrick up to now?” she asked.

  For a moment Casper wasn’t sure how to answer. “We found something strange in the yard. Patrick wants to dissect it.” The words pouring from his mouth did not feel like his own. “I came to get some trash bags and the video camera.”

  She raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the last item. “Video camera? What did you guys find?” A thought struck her and she grimaced. “You didn’t find a part of Rebecca, did you?”

  “God no,” Casper said. “I don’t know what it is. Maybe you should come out and have a look.”

  Maggie turned back to the dishes. “No thanks. You and Patrick can have your fun. I’m too tired to argue.”

  Casper thought about pressing the subject, but decided against it. “Do you have a scalpel?”

  “No. We have those pen knives I use for scrapbooking.”

  Casper nodded, grabbed a trash bag from beneath the sink then went to retrieve the other items.

  Casper used the video recorder to take a short video of the creature on the ground as Patrick scooped it into the trash bag. Patrick held the swinging bulk at arm’s length as if it might resurrect and come at him. He started for the pole barn, but stopped suddenly and looked up the path.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Patrick stood quiet for a moment and when he spoke his voice was unsure. “Nothing. I thought I saw something move in that tree over there.”

  Casper looked, but saw only the leaves swaying
in the breeze.

  Inside the pole barn they laid the trash bag on a fold out table. Casper handed Patrick the pen knife and a set of latex gloves. “The gloves are Maggie’s so they are going to be a bit tight.”

  “Thanks. I really didn’t want to touch that thing with my bare hands. To be honest, I don’t even like touching it through the trash bag. Gives me the skitters.”

  Casper continued to film. Patrick didn’t give an explanation of how or what they had found, but merely began his work in silence. He opened the bag and stretched the creature out on its back with as little contact as he could get away with. He worked with the determination and focus of a monk during meditation.

  A terrible stench arose when the first cut was made and Casper thought he was going to have to shut off the camera so that he could vomit outside. He didn’t possess a gentle stomach, but there was something so alien about the thing on the table that it caused him to have to look away. Patrick continued his silent work for about thirty minutes, occasionally grunting or making little impressed noises. When he finally spoke, Casper nearly jumped out of his skin.

  “It’s a drone.”

  Casper’s bad leg was beginning to ache from standing stationary for so long, but he kept recording. “You mean like a bee?”

  “Kind of, yes. But I’ve seen this more in fish. This one has both sex organs but both are inactive.”

  “Dumb it down a tad more.”

  Patrick stripped off the small gloves and flexed his hands. “It starts out as a drone, neither male nor female. But if the need arises it has the ability to change into either sex so that it can mate.”

  “Okay, what does that tell us?” Casper had a good idea what it meant, but he wanted to hear Patrick say it.

  “It tells us that this thing isn’t alone. It could be part of a harem or, worse, a hive.”

  The world took a quarter turn around him, and Casper leaned hard on his cane. The heat in the pole barn was stifling and the stench from the creature near unbearable. His bad leg burned from knee to hip and a terrible throb settled behind his eyes. The words harem and hive battled in his mind. “What’s the difference?”

  “If it’s part of a harem then there will be a female, one to two males, or visa-versa, and a group of drones.” Casper had never seen Patrick’s face more stern and serious, including the time he’d had a St. Francis security guard’s gun pointed at him. “If it’s a hive then there could be hundreds to thousands of drones, each capable of settling somewhere else and establishing a hive of its own.”

  Casper’s eyes passed over the creature’s body. From the front two claws, to the large fangs hanging from its maw, down to the two smaller tails with stingers and the large, dangerous looking tail in the middle, the damn thing made no sense.

  Where did reality go and how did he land in this place of telepathic dogs and giant insects? Rebecca Reid’s severed hand surfaced in his mind. How smooth the cut had been. Almost as if it had been sheared off instead of bitten.

  “This thing could have killed my neighbor.”

  “Very easily.” Sweat covered Patrick’s brow. He wiped at his stinging eyes. “Besides its obvious weapons, it looks to me as if it’s equipped with some heavy duty venom, both in the fangs and in the two stingers.”

  Casper swallowed hard. “In my dream I thought the dogs were attacking her.”

  Patrick’s eyes widened with understanding. “But they were trying to save her.”

  Casper walked away from the table of horrors, heading for the six-wheel Gator parked near the center of the floor. He leaned against the ATV and stared down at a large steel plate bolted to the concrete floor. He tapped his cane against the steel and a muffled thrum sounded below.

  “If this thing did kill Rebecca Reid, and there are more out there, then they might be responsible for all the disappearances, too.”

  Patrick’s eyes rolled upward as if he was visually scanning his brain for an idea. “Let’s go inside. I need to use your computer.”

  Inside, behind the computer, Casper looked over Patrick’s shoulder as he searched the internet. First he pulled up an aerial view of Shadeland on Google Maps. Then he opened a second tab and began to scour the past headlines of the online version of the local paper, The Shady Tribune. Patrick marked the map with highlighted tabs, and soon a small cluster emerged.

  “These are believed to be the last whereabouts of each of the disappearances. If I had to guess, I bet there are more than these, but these are the ones we know about. If there is a nest then it will most likely be somewhere in the center of this area.”

  Casper pointed a trembling finger at the aerial view of a Victorian house that stood well inside the cluster. “You mean like my house?”

  Patrick tapped on the monitor, indicating another rooftop inside the cluster that stood no more than four miles away. “What about this place? Do you know who lives here?”

  “No idea. You’ve lived in this town longer than I have.”

  “It’s closer to the center than your house. Maybe we should drive over there and have a look around.”

  Casper sat down on the couch in his office, unable to fight the fire in his bad leg and the weakness in his good. “I think we should call Dale. He needs to see what we have in the pole barn.”

  * * *

  A half hour later, Dale Wicket walked through Casper’s door. His uniform was disheveled and his eyes held a deep weariness. “Look guys, I’m all for hanging out but I’m a bit busy at the moment.”

  Casper walked him into the kitchen. “We have something you’ll want to see.”

  “I’ve seen all the weirdness I want for a while.”

  Patrick clapped him on the shoulder. “Just come out to the pole barn with us.”

  “Any chance you’ll leave me alone if I say no?”

  “Nope.”

  “Fine. Let’s get this over with. I want to go home and drink myself shitfaced.”

  They walked out to the pole barn without a word spoken between them. Casper and Patrick simply let Dale walk inside without warning. Dale looked at the creature on the table. He swayed on his feet as if already drunk.

  He’s drunk on death, Casper realized. There had been enough of it in town of late. Dale had a repulsed look on his face, but he seemed more tired than shocked.

  “Well?” Patrick asked.

  “I think it’s a bit early for you boys to be working on Halloween decorations.”

  “Dale,” Casper said. “That thing is real.”

  He turned and looked at the two men as if expecting them to crack up laughing. “What are you two up to?”

  “It’s not a fake,” Patrick said. “Cas found it over by the path. I’ve dissected it. That thing is real, and we think there are more running around.”

  Dale looked over at the dead creature and took a step away. “Bullshit.”

  Casper turned away from the corpse on the table. He stared Dale in the eyes and willed for the man to keep his gaze. “I owe you more than any man on this planet, except maybe for this big goon over here.” Patrick flashed a toothy grin. “I know we haven’t known each other a long time, but c’mon . . . do I seem the crazy type to you? Do you think I would lie or fabricate some hoax?”

  Dale’s answer came slow. “I guess not. But how can that thing be real. It’s not possible.”

  Patrick clapped his hands together and the loud pop caused Casper and Dale both to jump. Patrick stifled a laugh. “Sorry. We have some theories about our little friend here.”

  Casper explained their idea of the true St. Francis, but let Patrick handle the scientific arcana. Dale listened, occasionally turning and pacing. It was a lot to process and most people, when exposed to a horrifying truth, would have either turned and left or screamed to drown out the things they were hearing. Dale listened to the whole story, never bothering to interrupt.

  When they had finished they stood in silence looking down at the creature. Dale picked up the pen knife and poked at the corpse. “Is the
re really more of these out there?”

  “Yes,” Patrick said, but his voice lost conviction. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “And you’re sure they are what’s been killing people?”

  “Yes,” Casper said.

  Dale set the pen knife down. His hands trembled. “God help me, but I believe you. But that doesn’t mean we won’t all end up in a padded room, though. That is, if we survive the giant bugs and the people that let them out.” He flashed them a weak smile that was void of humor.

  “What now?” Patrick asked.

  “I want to go with you to that house,” Dale said.

  They went back inside. Casper took his .45 out of the gun safe and placed it in a holster which he then attached to his belt at the small of his back. He pulled his shirt out to conceal it.

  He found Maggie in the living room reading a book. “I’m going to leave for a bit.”

  “Off on another adventure with Patrick and Dale?” she asked without looking up.

  “Yes.” He noticed the irritation in her voice, but let it slide. “While I’m gone, I want you and the kids to stay in the house. Don’t go out for anything, even to check the mail.”

  This time Maggie looked up. “Are you getting paranoid? What’s going on?”

  Casper wished she would have come outside to see the creature. It would’ve saved a lot of explaining. “I’ll tell you later, when I’ve figured it all out.”

  “You can’t just leave me hanging like that. What is it?”

  “I don’t think the dogs killed Rebecca Reid,” Casper said. “Whatever did may still be running around.” She started to speak, but he stopped her. “Just promise me you and the kids will stay inside.”

  Maggie eyed him with suspicion. “All right. But when you get back, I want a full report.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  The drive to the cabin was relatively short, and no one spoke except to offer him directions. Casper pulled onto the long gravel driveway and stopped in front of the log cabin.

  The front door was open, and it was clear from the mess within that no one had been home for quite a while. They made a quick sweep of the cabin, coming finally to the loft bedroom. Dale knelt down examining the ID resting upon the sand covered clothes.