At the first sighting of Grohlm, the group would scatter. Making them easy pickings for the horde, unless Gerrick could keep it from happening. Moving with all of his skill, he followed the brave hunters, a deadly and silent guardian in the darkness.
Faux was on point, following close behind Winston and his dogs, when the hounds gave low growls and began tugging at their leashes. The grizzled old timer cracked a grin and said. "They picked up something, all right." His voice was a soft growl, not too different than that of his dogs.
Faux gave a tight nod. He said. "Let's go, then." His stomach was hollow. He felt the same empty readiness that he felt when standing outside a suspect's door, knowing that he was about to crash into a room filled with guns and bad men who knew how to use them. Behind him, he could hear the others shuffling in the darkness. Flashlight beams stabbed out into the night, not seeming to cut through the darkness at all.
Somebody spoke from the rear. It sounded like Baker, but Faux wasn't sure. They said. "What is it?"
Then hell came crashing down on top of all of them. The only warning was the sudden squealing from the dogs up ahead as they tried to flee, pulling hard at their lead lines and nearly taking Winston off of his feet.
Screeching and howling out of the trees, the attackers were suddenly everywhere. The woods went from total silence to pandemonium in a matter of seconds, screams and the pop of gunfire cutting through the howling of the monsters surrounding them all.
Faux fell backwards, firing at the things exploding out of the darkness. One of them went down at his feet, squealing and thrashing as it died. Faux had only a moment to stare down at its twisted features, so much like a bird's, before another charged at him. Around him, men were screaming and shooting at the things boiling out of the trees and brush. He watched a deputy go down with a piece of sharpened steel in his leg. His lizard faced opponent raised a twisted broken tree limb over its head, making ready to bring it down onto its victim's head. A long rusty spike was nailed through the head of the misshapen limb.
Faux shot the lizard through the eye, dropping it onto the forest floor, and rushed to help the injured man. Shouting to be heard over the screams and gunfire, Faux yelled. "ON ME! EVERYBODY FORM UP ON ME!"
But it was no good. He shot two more of the creatures, trying to count rounds, and was surprised when Teague appeared at his elbow. The acting chief had a bloody gash on his face but was otherwise unharmed. He had a gun in each hand and shouted over the noise. "We have to fall back! These things are tearing us to pieces!"
Faux helped the Deputy stand, letting him rest his weight against him. Faux said. "No shit, chief! Lead the way and we'll be right behind you!" He shouted hard at one of Baker's fleeing C.I.S. Techs, stopping the panicked girl before she could disappear into the woods. "You! Start gathering in men! We're getting out of here!"
At first, the woman was too panicked to comprehend what was being shouted into her face. She tried to pull free of Faux's iron gaze but the F.B.I. agent caught her by the arm and held her in place. The mindless panic faded from her eyes and she said. "What do you want me to do?"
"Help." Faux said, then started moving. With the Tech's help, Faux and Teague gathered everybody in, circling close around the more badly injured. The outer ring fired on the attacking creatures, keeping them at bay with suppressing fire.
Baker had procured weapons from those too wounded to use them and handed them out to his Techs. He had a pair of Glock .17s held in each of his fists. Two monsters, both with the face of a goat, charged out of the trees, and he fired at them. One hit the ground hard, bleating and tearing at the ground with its hooves. The other ducked and cut to the right, a heavy looking hammer held tight in a grubby but otherwise human looking hand. "I think I'm losing my mind." Baker said in a weak voice. He was breathing hard as he shook his shaggy head. One of his Techs, the same wide eyed girl that Faux had saved, stood just behind him. She shot at the other goat with an injured officer's gun and hit it in the back. Baker said. "Good shot!" He shot at another, this one a giant lizard, and missed. "I don't know what these things are, but if we don't start moving we're going to be overrun. There are more of them than we have bullets."
Teague agreed. Shouting to be heard over the screeching of the horde, he addressed his people. "Listen up, everybody. We're getting out of here. Keep together and don't let them through. Let's go and make every shot count." That said, he began moving the group back the way they'd come. The creatures still came at them, but not like their first charge. They seemed hesitant, now that the group was less panicked, and kept to the trees and the darker shadows. One or two of them would occasionally dart out at the circle, in sharp little feints, before melting back into the woods. A tactic that seemed designed to draw their fire and use up their dwindling supply of ammunition.
Teague was tense as he led the rag tag group of hunters back the way they came, but the creatures didn't try to overwhelm them as he was sure they could do. They'd pulled back into the forest for the most part. As if they realized they had bitten off more than they could chew.
Dancing through the trees, Gerrick dodged limbs as well as attacking grohlm. He killed them as he moved, cutting them down whether they saw him or not. He was a shadow of death to the monsters, taking their focus away from the hunters and putting fear into their black little hearts. He stayed far enough away from the retreating search party to avoid being seen or shot accidently by a terrified deputy. But close enough to keep the way clear of grohlm.
As he fought, he couldn't help but feel that, all in all, the night hadn't been the disaster that he'd expected it to be. The F.B.I. man had handled himself well enough. As had Teague and Baker. Amazingly, despite dozens of injuries, none of the party had been killed.
Except for the dogs.
Gerrick's muscles were burning by the time the searchers stumbled out of the woods onto the concrete of the Mill's broken parking lot. His armor carried more than a few nicks and gashes, but he was otherwise unhurt. He kept to the tree line, protecting the rear, as the group stumbled to their vehicles. The two waiting deputies rushed forward to help the injured, wide eyed and startled by all of the blood.
It was a sorry lot of bloodied and ragged people that left the Mill that night. They'd learned a hard lesson about the evils prowling the Briar Wood. A lesson that they wouldn't soon forget.
CHAPTER 9
Brandon and Claire stepped into the cafeteria and were hit by a wall of music and dancing kids. The walls were decorated with crepe paper and balloons, as well as hanging lights and huge cardboard cutouts of different Halloween monsters. All of the classics were there. From Dracula to the Wolfman. But the modern monsters were there as well. In one corner stood a massive Slender man. Made of paper mache and dowel rods, it was over ten feet tall. Kids stood under its outstretched arms, getting their picture taken by members of the photography club.
The overhead lighting was all purple and red, with the occasional strobe for effect. The main dance floor was packed with dancing kids, with tables placed around the outer edge. Carved Jack-Lanterns sat in the center of each table, eerie led light spilling from their eyes and mouths. More skeletons and over sized bats hung from the ceiling, dangling above the heads of the dancers. The place was packed, all of the students dressed up as every sort of thing.
Pirates and superheroes were the most re-occurring theme, making Brandon glad that he went with Peter Pan, instead of his first choice of Captain Hook. He saw more than a few Jack Sparrows and even a Blackbeard or two. Girls were dressed up as every sort of Princess and the occasional My Little Pony. For every Elza from Frozen, there was a cross eyed Derpy pony showing too much cleavage. A few boys were dressed as Ponies too. Of course, there were plenty of slutty nurses and girl scouts and school girls, but nothing too revealing or one of the many roaming teachers and parents would pull the offender aside and they would suddenly be wearing a Matheson football tee-shirt over their costume. There were lots of pretty girls dressed in pretty cos
tumes, but Claire outshone them all. With her glittery wings and long legs, she garnered a lot of attention. Brandon garnered a lot of appreciative nods from other boys in his class, and some of the girls, and it was hard not to feel a little overprotective of his beautiful companion. She was easily the most beautiful girl there and everyone seemed to know it.
As they moved through creeps and ghouls, Batmen and Iron Men, Claire and Brandon received plenty of compliments on their costumes. Claire more than Brandon, though he did get his share of weighty looks from other girls. They made their rounds, greeting and talking to their friends, before they found a table and sat down for a moment to get their bearings. They watch the dancers and commented on some of the outfits, while drinking punch and just enjoying each other's company.
Brandon didn't see the Kruegers, at first, but he did see Albert. Dressed in a generic pirate costume consisting of a striped shirt and eye patch, he stood near the back wall with the rest of the kids too shy to get out on the dance floor. He looked all alone, despite being surrounded by other kids. A plastic sword hung at his side which didn't look too different than the one hanging from Brandon's. He saw Brandon look his way and gave a nervous wave and a smile.
Brandon waved back. He turned and got Claire's attention. He said. "I'm going to get Albert and bring him over."
"That's a great idea." She said, waving at somebody she saw coming in the front door. "I'll stay here and hold our table."
"I'll be back in a flash." Brandon said, giving her hand a squeeze.
"Don't be gone too long." She said, smiling at him. Her smile was beautiful. "We haven't got to dance yet."
Brandon returned the smile and said. "You'll get that dance just as soon as I get back." He stood up and worked his way around the dance floor. As he slipped between a Ninja Turtle and a Harry Potter, he felt the hairs on his neck stir, making him pause. He felt like somebody was watching him. He suddenly regretted not bringing Rok with him tonight. The old god's presence would've been a comfort. Giving himself a shake, he started moving again.
Albert saw him just as he got close and smiled. "You and Claire look great tonight." He said. He held a half full cup of punch and seemed extra nervous. His costume was wrinkled in places and sweat stained the armpits.
"Thanks, Albert. Your costume looks great too." Brandon said. "I haven't seen the big red uglies tonight? Have you?"
Albert shook his head, looking up at Brandon. "No and don't jinx it." He looked at the people crowded around them and said. "I thought I saw them earlier, messing with some girls on the dance floor."
Brandon looked around but he didn't see them. He said. "What are they dressed up as?"
"Hangmen, I think." Albert said. "Black masks and shirts. They match."
Brandon shook his head and tried to put the Kruegers out of his mind. He said. "Hey, come sit with us. Claire and I grabbed a table and it's too big for just the two of us."
Albert gave an embarrassed shrug and said. "I'm okay here. I've got my spot against the wall all worn in and comfortable. Thanks for asking though."
"Are you sure?" But there was no budging the smaller boy, so Brandon said. "All right, but you can come over whenever you want. And if you see the Kruegers, come find me. I won't let them bother you." He gave Albert's shoulder a gentle punch. "You should totally ask one of the girls here to dance, my friend."
"I might just do that." Albert said, with no intention of doing any such thing. "I don't plan on letting the Kruegers see me anytime soon, but if I see them I'll come find you."
"Good." Brandon said. He noticed a quiet and pretty girl standing nearby watching Albert. She was dressed up as Smurfette, her face and arms painted dark blue, but she looked very cute. He nudged Albert before he left, saying. "I think that smurf over there likes you. You should ask her to dance." He left Albert gaping and nervously looking at his feet instead of at the girl watching him. He made his way back to his and Claire's table, stopping at the DJ's station long enough to put in a song request. Claire was no longer alone. Emily sat next to her, talking softly into her ear.
The song he requested began to play as he reached the table. Claire was talking to Emily when Brandon touched her shoulder and said. "May I have this dance?"
Claire turned, startled, and smiled up at him. Her smile was beautiful. She said, laughing delightedly. "You may." Giving Brandon her hand, she let him lead her out onto the dance floor.
Emily watched them go, a smile on her still bruised and healing face. She'd only just gotten to come home from the hospital and was still recovering. Her step mom tried to keep her home, but there was no way she was going to miss the Halloween dance. Nobody would have blamed her for not showing up, not after what had happened. But that just wasn't Emily's style. She came dressed in a simple Cinderella gown, with her hair up in a cascade of beautiful curls. She could've covered up the damage to her face with make-up, but she kept it light. She didn't want anyone to think she was ashamed of what happened. She may have been the victim of a crime, but she wasn't going to let that dictate how she lived her life. Even with the fading bruises and her still healing lips, she was enchanting.
Out on the dance floor, Brandon pulled Claire close, his hand against the small of her back. She was a delicious weight pressed up against his chest. She looked up into his eyes, her single green eye sparkling. She said. "Thank you for coming with me tonight, Bran. You're amazing, you know that? I think you're probably the best thing that's ever happened to me."
Brandon blushed then bent forward to plant a kiss on her forehead. He felt tears threaten to spill from his eyes. Holding Claire tight, he said. "If you weren't in my life, I don't know what I would do, Claire. Or where I would be. Probably dead. Like my parents. I thought my life ended when they died, but then I found you. Now you're my entire world. Without you, I'm nothing."
"Don't say that." Claire pulled him tight against her and lay her cheek against his chest. "Don't ever say that. Even without me, you would still go on. You would persevere. You would live. You're so much stronger than anybody I've ever met."
Brandon didn't say anything. He couldn't. He just held her close and danced. Asked later, he wouldn't have been able to tell you what songs they danced to, only that they were the best of his young life. The songs that would best symbolize his childhood for the rest of his life. Amidst all of those other people, dancing slowly together, it felt like he and Claire were the only people left in the entire world. That the music was only for them and they were the center of the universe.
In truth, they were the center of the universe for only one thing in the cafeteria. As he watched them from afar, the Curse felt something like compassion stir his blackened heart. Compassion was not an emotion that Sha'ha'Zel had felt in a long time, not that he ever felt any emotion, actually. He was never meant to feel anything but the compulsion to see his bloody task out to its end, no matter how long it took to complete. He was also never supposed to live as long as he had, wandering the earth for twenty years before finally being allowed to take his victims.
He hated Stephen Merryweather for that, making him suffer under the crushing weight of time, more than anything else.
Watching the boy and girl dance, Sha'ha'Zel knew that his time was coming. The boy had spilled the blood of his enemies. Had tasted the fear and the exaltation of battle, as his ancestors had before him. And from the way that he and the girl were pressed against one another on the dance floor, the way they held one another, the curse knew that the other half of the requirements would be met very soon.
The Matheson police department was hushed despite the hum of activity from the remaining deputies and the O.S.B.I. Technicians. People were set up in all corners of the main squad room, working silently as they used alcohol and hydrogen peroxide and moist towels to clean and bandage their wounds. Underhill moved about the room, overseeing most of the work. The old man had a surprising amount of knowledge when it came to rough battlefield medicine. With help from the Techs, he was able to
take care of all but the worst of the wounds.
Doctor Moody was taking care of anything beyond the others skill. Underhill had seen him on the way through town, coming out of the Lumberjack. He'd stopped to pick up a late dinner for himself and his wife, after dropping his daughter and her date off at the Halloween dance. Underhill had slammed the brakes of Teague's patrol vehicle and flagged down the doctor. How Underhill ended up driving, Faux had no idea. Teague was in the backseat keeping pressure on a stab wound one of his deputies had sustained during the ambush.
Ambush was the only word for what had happened out in those woods, Faux knew. The whole damned thing had been too cute to be anything but. And that said terrifying things about how smart those things in the woods were. "They're too damn smart." Faux said, aloud.
"What?" Teague said through gritted teeth. Baker was using a tube of super glue to close the gash on the acting chief's cheek. He was going to have another scar to match the faded one running through his goatee.
Faux looked up, pulled out of his thoughts, and said. "Those things set that ambush for us. They're way too smart to be animals. Smarter than any kind of animal I've ever seen."
"You think they knew we were coming?" Teague wiped at the blood on his face, leaning back in his predecessor's oversized desk chair. The office still bore Chief Wyntrop's distinctive fingerprint. Framed pictures on the wall of him at different civic functions. Shaking hands with the mayor. The Governor. The State Attorney General. A mounted buck's head hung on the wall directly behind his desk, casting a sinister shadow over Teague's weary features. The acting chief blew out a deep breath and said. "What the hell were they, anyway? I saw dozens of different animal types, walking on two legs. Working together, for god's sake."
"Maybe some kind of genetic experiment gone wrong?" Baker said. He put the cap back on the tube of glue and tossed it onto the desk. His coat was undone and the big scarf hung loose around his neck. He perched on the corner of the desk and crossed his arms. His curly head shook as he said. "Could it be some kind of government experiment, escaped from a lab?" He looked at Faux when he said it, as if the F.B.I. man had answers he wasn't sharing.
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