by Brian
Suddenly the dog is on to something and he starts running, dragging his handler behind as fast as the man can run. Finally, thinks Arroyos. He looks back and sees June and Linus and waves at them with his gun to hurry and takes off after the dog himself.
“Maybe this is it,” says Linus, not too loudly.
“Let’s go find out,” says June. “I want a chance to tranquilize it before he kills it.”
June runs faster than Linus toward Arroyos’ receding form. The hound is moving pretty well for having a human strapped behind it. The dog and the handler take a few sharp turns. Then for a while they are running straight and just past a small tree the dog turns hard around.
Arroyos sees the dog turn first and then sees the rabbit run by him going the other way. He stops, winded and disgusted. He yells at the officer with the leash, who apparently hasn’t seen the rabbit yet.
“Stop. Hold the dog. It’s a rabbit! He’s chasing a rabbit.”
Linus and June arrive as the detective is shouting. “Whew, that was some good exercise!” June says out of breath.
“Looks like someone forgot to tell the dog what we were looking for,” says Linus.
Arroyos is stone-faced. “Shoot that dog!” he says in apparent seriousness.
“Detective!” shouts June.
The dog’s handler makes no move to shoot the animal nor do any of the other thirteen policemen or gauchos who are arriving on the scene.
Even though his death sentence was not carried out, Arroyos didn’t seem to want to push the issue. “It’s time to go back.” He checks his compass and then indicates the direction they need to go, leading the way back to the barn. “Remain vigilant!” He shouts back at the group.
›
One of the hunters, a gaucho named Juan Santangelo, has fallen some distance behind Arroyos’ group. He is alone but used to being on the plains by himself, so he is unworried. His rifle is out before him and he is moving slowly and alertly through the grass. Suddenly the man stops, not sure if he heard a noise or not. He shrugs after hearing nothing further and begins moving again toward the group, which is out of sight now. After a few more steps he stops again, and again he is not sure if he has actually heard something besides his own footfalls. He looks around worriedly, as if there is a ghost near him that he can’t see.
“Let me see you, Diablo.”
Now he hears a noise clearly, a fast movement in the grass. He turns in the direction of the sound and as he does so the creature jumps out of the grass in a blur and drives his lance into the man’s chest. Before he can think, much less fire his gun, the man crumbles to the ground in a heap.
Santangelo’s face doesn’t show pain, but the fear he felt at the moment of the attack remains painted on his face.
The creature, known as El Poco Diablo to these men, cleans his lance in the usual way and disappears into the grass.
›
Linus and June are just behind Arroyos who are just behind the policeman with the dog. Arroyos looks impatient. “Maybe this dog’s nose only knows rabbit!”
The dog’s handler apologizes but Linus addresses the comment as well. “We’re hunting an animal whose entire existence revolves around remaining unseen. I’m not surprised the dog can’t pick up a scent.”
“All animals have a scent, Señor.”
Linus shrugs. “Maybe he smells like Pampas grass. There’d be a good evolutionary trick.”
“It’d be a first, too!” replies June.
“The animal kingdom is full of firsts,” says Linus to June. “As you know, of course.”
“I’ll check in with Pablo’s group,” says the detective as he unhooks the radio from his belt. “See if he’s turned around yet. I can let him know about your theory while I’m at it.”
›
The creature is running and stops. His breathing is heavier than usual. He’s been running hard because of the pressure of all these men with guns and dogs around him. Now he’s run into the back of the second group of hunters.
These men are mostly concerned with what is in front of them and to their sides, hardly looking behind themselves at all. This pleases the creature, though even if they did look behind they still wouldn’t see him.
One of the men speaks to another who nods and then the man breaks off to the right of the main group, still moving cautiously. This is the kind of opportunity that the creature likes and he moves closer to the man who has now stopped and is obviously getting ready to relieve himself. When he sees this, the creature moves fast, intent on getting there while the man’s pants are undone. The grass is a blur on either side of the creature as he sprints toward his victim. In no time he is upon his prey and drives his lance into his helpless victim’s lung. The man doesn’t even have the time to look up.
Though he dies as quickly as any of the creature’s victims, the man’s finger happens to be on the trigger of his pistol. As a result, the gun fires and the loud report is enough to scare the creature, who forgets the ritual tasting of his enemy’s blood and flees. Unaccustomed fear has him crashing recklessly through the grass to get away.
›
Pablo has his radio up to his mouth and he is talking to it when the shot sounds. Detective Arroyos hears the shot over the keyed radio.
“What was that?” he says.
“It sounded like a shot from the rear of the group,” says Pablo. “Let me find out what it is and I’ll get right back to you.”
Pablo hitches his radio back to his belt. Everyone in the scattered group is looking back to see who fired at what. Pablo runs toward the rear of the group and the others who’d been waiting for some indication, follow him.
He sees one of the men ahead of him running off to the left, in the direction the shot came from. He heads that way, losing sight of the man in the tall grass. Pablo then nearly runs the man over. He is standing there looking at the man who is lying on the ground. He is sprawled on his back, his eyes open, and fear plainly written on his face. His zipper is open and his right arm is across his chest, that arm being the one that accepted the recoil from the gun when it fired. Since his arm had no strength to hold the gun as it fired, the gun landed a little distance from the man’s body. The policeman bends down to check the pulse on the dead man. As he expected there is no heartbeat. He faces Pablo and shakes his head.
The others of the group are arriving noisily behind Pablo. They see the fallen man and no explanation seems necessary. Pablo takes his walkie-talkie off of his belt and speaks into it.
“Detective.”
After a moment, “Yes.”
“One of the men is dead. Nothing apparent as the cause. Apparently he got a shot off before he died. ”
There is silence on the radio and then, “Check his chest for the wound we saw on the gaucho a few days ago.”
Pablo crouches down to the dead policeman and the other fellow gets out of his way. Pablo pulls up the man’s shirt and looks on his chest. There he sees a small spot of blood. “It’s there, sir.”
“Maybe his shot injured the devil, or killed it. Search the immediate area and make sure to double up. No one is to be alone. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir!”
“We’ll go back to get the vehicles and be there in a little while…. Who is the dead man, Pablo?”
Pablo hesitates, worried about how his boss will respond. “It was Jorge.”
There is no response. “Detective?”
“I heard you. Out.”
Pablo had expected some expression of deep emotion. But as much as Jorge’s death saddened him, there was no time to dwell on it. They both had other men to keep alive while at the same time searching for the beast that did this to Jorge. There would be time for sadness later.
“You heard the man. I want some men out there looking for blood, some sign that the diablo left for us. Better yet, find the beast himself. And two men groups, no singles. Vamanos.”
›
The men had bunched around Arroyos while he was on the radio and so
knew what was going on. A stoic looking Arroyos clipped his radio back to his belt. Linus and June were careful to say nothing at the moment. They weren’t sure of the detective’s relationship to the dead man other than he was one of his men, but it was apparent on the faces of others that the man was important to Arroyos. So it was with great trepidation that another officer approached Arroyos with some news.
“Detective Arroyos. I haven’t seen Santangelo in about a half an hour, sir.”
Arroyos is stunned out of his stony silence. “What? Where is he? Where did he go?”
“He said he had to piss,” the man said nervously. “I forgot about him in my concentration on the hunt.”
Arroyos closes his eyes and shakes his head. He then opens his eyes and looks at the man who’d been talking to him. He hefts his gun into a two-handed position, a move which seems threatening to everyone, though the gun is not aimed at the man. The man looks worried that he’ll be killed but Arroyos’ tone when he speaks is business-like. “Lead the way, officer.”
The man is relieved and turns around to lead the way back to where they lost sight of Santangelo. As everyone begins to follow, Linus and June share a relieved glance.
›
“This is about where I left him,” says the policeman who’d been leading the group, sweeping his arm off to the right of where he stood.
Arroyos points to the same area. “OK. Let’s comb this area. Stay side by side.”
It is just moments before someone nearly trips over the gaucho’s lifeless body. He is lying on his back, fear a mask on his face, his black hat on the ground next to him.
“Jesus Christas!” says the man who finds him. A few of the others cross themselves and look over, and then walk over to see what the man is looking at.
Linus gazes out over the grass, stonily.
Arroyos bends down and pulls up the man’s shirt. It is something which hardly seems necessary, but Arroyos wants to be sure. He flings the shirt back down on the dead man.
“He mocks us, the devil. I shall relish spilling his blood into this very soil.” He stands up.
“I think we should make sure that everyone stays closer together,” says Linus.
Arroyos laughs. “Good suggestion, señor. How about suggesting something I am not thinking. Surprise me! Why can’t the dogs smell this animal? Why can’t men who are holding guns, shoot it. Will we all die out here looking for him while he takes one of us here and one of us there?”
Linus responds angrily. “Here’s something you may not know, señor. This is a creature with a head almost as big as yours or mine. I think he is smart enough to realize that we’re hunting him, and I’d bet anything that he is hunting us now, not mocking us. Just hunting. So as long as we’re out here, yes, we’re all in danger. And it may not matter how careful we are. But that’s all we’ve got.”
Arroyos narrows his eyes at Linus. He did not expect the American to have an answer, and isn’t used to having people speak without regard for his authority. He bends down to close Santangelo’s eyes and puts the man’s hat over his face. Then he places his hand over the man’s heart and takes it away. He looks up to Linus and then to June from where he is.
“Didn’t you suggest to me that this animal had killed someone earlier this week? Did you not also suggest that this animal and his friends have been killing people in my country for thousands of years? Did he not kill Jorge? Did he not kill Santangelo? I don’t care about any danger. We will be careful, but this is not a ghost. He will succumb to us. Let him hunt us. Let him come to us. Then we’ll know where he is.”
Arroyos’ mood is lighter. He smiles as he stands. His new resolve has convinced him that he can catch the creature.
“You see, you are helpful, señor. And Pablo thought you two would be a couple of soft Norte Americanos.”
Linus is looking out at the plains. In his mind he sees the creature in his basement, throwing a leftover vegetable at him, then brandishing his lance. The situation isn’t hopeless, but it doesn’t seem very hopeful either, here or anywhere else where the creature and his brethren roam.
›
There is a ring of guards around the camp, some standing and some sitting. The many tents and two campfires are inside this ring. It is after midnight and the people who are not on watch are sleeping in the tents, or at least trying to. The men outside on guard are occasionally yawning and stretching, but for the most part everyone is awake and alert, guns at the ready.
The creature is watching the camp from a distance and he begins to creep quietly and very slowly around the ring of guards. He is looking for the weakest link, the sleepiest, least alert man. He finds one who has been yawning often, his eyes closing for a few seconds at a time. Then he jerks awake and is somewhat attentive for a few minutes. This is his target.
The Maero is in the tall grass. He begins to move slowly forward toward the man, toward the flickering ring of orange light. He is moving slowly, cautiously, using all of his evolution granted abilities of stealth to get closer to the sleepy man, who is only four or five feet away from more alert companions on either side.
It is almost unchallenging for the creature.
SQUEEEAAALLL.
The sudden, loud, high-pitched sound was enough to stop his heart with fear. The Maero felt the furry lump as it squeezed out from under his foot and fled. Then there was a loud shot and the creature was moving the other direction as fast as he could go, no longer concerned with stealth but with preserving his life.
Pablo, who’d been the target of the Maero, fired the shot, and he’s standing now. The first shot he’d fired was at the squealing noise. He and the men next to him are now firing at the receding wave of bending grass in front of them.
Pablo shouts, “I see it! I see it!” He fires again.
Linus grabs his own gun and moves rapidly from his seat near the campfire toward Pablo. He skids to a stop and grabs a flashlight on the way. Other men start moving toward the ruckus as well.
Linus stops when he gets to Pablo who points at the receding wave of grass. Linus shines the light which catches a brief glimpse of the creature’s brown head in the increasing distance.
“There’s the bastard. You’re not getting away this time.”
Linus turns to Pablo and two men nearby and his tone brooks no argument. “You three follow me.”
The three have flashlights and guns, so as soon as Linus starts a sprint after the creature, they are sprinting close at his Linus’ heels, all of them eager to catch the killer.
›
Arroyos comes out of his tent, dressed but obviously tired. He looks a question at a nearby man and then watches the four men running into the grass.
“The American has taken three men out after the creature!” says a man named Miguel.
“All that shooting! Did anyone hit it?” asks Arroyos.
Miguel shrugs. “It’s hard to tell, but it left at a run.”
Arroyos holds back a curse. He reaches into the tent and grabs his gun and flashlight. Meanwhile, June has come out of her tent.
“I’m going out there to turn him around before he gets lost or killed,” says the detective.
“Who gets lost or killed?” asks June.
“Guess.”
June is surprised and fearful. Arroyos nods to Miguel in the expectation that he’ll follow. “The rest of you get BACK to your posts. Half of us could have been dead by now if the diablo has a friend.”
He doesn’t wait for comments; he’s out of the ring before a stunned June can say anything, and an armed Miguel is close on his heels. She reaches into the tent and grabs her dart gun and a flashlight.
She’s not far behind the two men when she starts running and actually closes the distance. Miguel and then Arroyos notice her coming up behind them but do not take their focus off the bouncing light in the distance that they are following.
The three are running in a line in the trail left by Linus and his group. The sounds of their own breathing
, their footfalls as they run, and the grass giving way before them are loud in the cloudy night. Their flashlights jump around in the dark.
After some time, and a great distance, Arroyos stops, and the two behind almost run into him. Each of them continues scanning the dark for trouble. Arroyos puts a finger to his lips to indicate quiet when June starts to ask him why he stopped.
Now there is silence and beams of light. Ahead of them, behind them, and all around them is darkness and silence. “Damn it!” says Arroyos quietly. “He is one reckless, hombre that friend of yours.”
“You’d have done the same thing,” says June. “You want this animal as much as we do.”
“I will not be understanding if his recklessness causes the death of more of my men.”
Miguel has taken to watching their rear so that they cannot be attacked from behind, but he doesn’t have a light. He gets June’s attention and points to the rear so she will shine her light back that way. “I can’t see the campfires,” he says.
“We can’t be far,” says Arroyos.
“I am a runner,” says June. “I’d say we just covered about two miles.”
“What?!” exclaims Arroyos. “I don’t like the sound of that. Turn off your light for a minute.”
June does so as well as Arroyos and the trio is engulfed in almost total darkness. There are no stars or moon to lighten the night sky, no dome of light from a nearby city and no sign of the light from the campfire or from Linus’s group of hunters.
Arroyos flicks on his light and June does the same, aiming behind. The detective blows a quiet, airy whistle and tries to look confident. They all are a little relieved that the flashlights are back on.
“All my life I’ve lived here and I’m still amazed at just how dark it can get,” says Arroyos.
“We have to find them,” says June.
Arroyos is silent. He looks at Miguel. “You have your radio?”
“Yes.”
“Try and get ahold of Linus or someone else in his group. If we are lucky, they brought a radio.”
Miguel nods, one hands his gun and speaks into the radio. He continues scanning the area. “Unit two, this is Unit eleven, come in.”
