SavageLust

by Desiree Holt

  “Off-road vehicle coming up on the left,” Ben warned.

  “I see it.”

  He sat the helo down carefully in a cleared space in front of the cabin and shut off the rotors. They were still winding down when he and Ben jumped to the ground. The ATV reached them at exactly the same time. Even seated, the driver was a big man who looked seriously unfriendly. The man riding behind him, just as large and powerful, appeared to be even more so.

  “Hold it!” the driver shouted, driving his vehicle right up to where they stood. “Don’t go one step closer to the cabin.”

  The passenger hopped off before the ATV had completely stopped and yanked a gun from a holster on his belt.

  Ric lifted his hands and noted Ben did the same.

  “We’re not trouble,” Ric said in a clear voice. “I assume this is your place?”

  “Our line shack.” The man’s words were curt. “You’re on private property, so you’d better get back in that thing and take off before I call the sheriff.”

  Ric inclined his head toward the porch. “If that’s your friend lying there, you’ve got more trouble than just two strangers. And I can promise you, we didn’t have anything to do with what happened to him.”

  “Yeah? What do you know about it and why did you land here?” Over his shoulder, he said, “Ron, go take a look and see if that’s Harley up there. And check out the gelding. He’s kicking up a damn fuss.”

  He kept his gun trained on Ben and Ric while the driver hurried to the porch.

  “Jesus H. Christ!” the man named Ron shouted. He promptly bent over and lost the contents of his stomach.

  “What?” the man with the gun hollered back at him. “Ron, what the fuck’s the matter with you?”

  “He just got a closeup of what happened to your friend,” Ben commented.

  “I know you don’t have any reason to trust us,” Ric said in a slow, even tone. “But if you’ll just let me get my wallet, I can at least prove who we are.”

  The man in front of them was obviously torn, wanting to see what had made the other guy toss his cookies, wanting to see what happened to their friend, and worried that if he let down his guard, the two strangers would be all over him.

  “Okay.” He let out a breath. “Take your wallet out with two fingers only. Tell your friend to keep his hands in the air.”

  Ric extracted his wallet and flipped it open. “My name is Ric Garza. I’m a former Texas Ranger.” He held out the wallet. “All my identification is there plus a business card for the agency I now work for. You can call any of the numbers to check. But you’d better hurry because there’s trouble hanging around like you’ve never seen before.”

  The man narrowed his eyes. “Are you threatening me?”

  “Not me. I’m here to help, believe it or not.”

  Ric glanced sideways and saw the other man was seated on the porch steps, head down, dragging air into his lungs, the body behind him.

  “Okay.” The man handed his wallet back. “And your friend here?”

  “Ben Crater.” Ben answered for himself. “Former Marine.”

  “I’m Russ Hammond,” the man told them. “That’s my brother, Ron. Our family owns this ranch. So you want to tell me what the fuck happened to our ranch hand? And what the hell you’re doing, landing that helicopter on private property?”

  “I will, but you’ll have a hard time believing it.” Ric paused. “We spotted the body from the air. And your ranch hand is the second victim in this area killed the same way, and by the same creature.”

  Russ scowled. “What do you mean, second victim? What creature? Exactly what in the hell is going on here?”

  Ric glanced over to see the brother leading a horse from the smaller building, petting it with hands that, even from this distance, were visibly shaking. But at least the animal had quieted down. Ron Hammond led it to a spot away from the shack, hooked a lead to its bridle and hitched it to a tree branch. The horse continued to stamp and snort but at least it had stopped the high, sharp neighing.

  “You heard about the body found on Wolf Mountain Trail?”

  Russ Hammond’s eyes widened. “The news said the guy was killed by a wild animal.”

  Ric snorted. “Yeah, only it wasn’t any wild animal like you’ve ever seen before. If you promise not to shoot us, we’ll tell you something you won’t want to believe and will have a hard time dealing with. But I promise you it’s the truth.”

  “Okay.” He lowered the gun. “You can put your hands down but I’m still holding on to my gun. Just in case.”

  “Just let me give you details and show you some pictures before you tell me I’m insane.”

  As concisely as he could, Ric explained about the Chupacabra, Night Seekers, Craig Stafford and the ongoing hunt, including the events that had led up to this morning. The disbelief on the man’s face was evident, skepticism dark in his eyes. But then Ric pulled out his cellphone, which he’d loaded with pictures from previous killings. Just in case.

  For a moment, he thought Russ Hammond would pass out.

  “This is some kind of joke, right?” He rubbed his face. “A trick. That’s it. You’re playing a trick on us! What do you want? Our land? Our cattle? Well, you’ll never get it, no matter what kind of craziness you pull.”

  “I felt the same way at first,” Ben told him. “Except I actually saw the creature before I saw any of the kills. The victims.”

  “What?” Russ stared at him. “You say you actually saw this…this…whatever it is? How the hell did that happen?”

  “Until just a week or so ago, I was living in Montana, near where the most recent kills took place. I heard my horse screaming and kicking in the barn and raced back to see what was going on.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “What I saw scared the shit out of me. It looked just like the pictures of the carcasses Ric showed you, except of course it was alive.” He pulled in a long, slow breath. “I did a couple of tours in Afghanistan. There was stuff there that gave me nightmares but nothing that frightened me the way this thing did.”

  “And it looked just like the ones in those pictures?”

  Ben nodded. “I can promise you I’ll never forget it.”

  Russ looked from one to the other, as if trying to read what was going on in their minds.

  “I know it’s a lot to swallow,” Ric said, “but it’s the damn truth. Except for Ben, everyone on the team has lost someone to the Chupacabra. Someone close.”

  “I just can’t make myself believe this. I thought the Chupacabra legend was just that. Some insane story cooked up ages ago. I can’t wrap my mind around the fact it might be real.”

  “No ‘might be’ about it,” Ben told him. “It’s real all right.”

  By now Ron had stumbled over to where they all stood, his face still drained of color.

  “Russ?” His brother was doing his best not to toss his cookies again. “You’d better go up there and see what happened to Harley.”

  Ric could see the shock on Russ Hammond’s face as they trooped up the porch and he got a close look at the body. Just as with all the others, there were two puncture holes in the neck, the body was drained of blood and had been ripped opened as if with a surgical knife from neck to groin. The entrails sat in their usual place, outside the body, as if carefully placed there.

  Russ Hammond swallowed hard. His face paled as he took in the condition of the body.

  “Holy motherfucking shit.” His voice was barely a whisper. “What the fuck happened here?” He backed off the porch. “You’re right. It’s just like the pictures.”

  “We need to call this in,” his brother pointed out.

  “Who are you calling?” Ric asked. “The Texas Rangers have everything from Wolf Mountain Trail, so technically they’re in charge.”

  “What about notifying the Gillespie County sheriff?” Russ asked.

  “Call Dad first,” Ron said. “We don’t call anyone until he gets out here and sees what happened.”

&nb
sp; “I’m working with one of the Rangers from headquarters,” Ric told him. “I need to at least call him and my team.”

  “Not until we get our father out here,” Ron argued

  “We can’t wait,” Ric insisted. “So you’d better get him on the horn, because I’m getting my satellite phone from the helicopter.”

  Russ pulled his radio from his belt. “I’ll get him right now. Jesus. I don’t know how he’ll deal with this. And Mom. Fuck. Just—fuck.”

  * * * * *

  Dante steered the SUV along the winding Hill Country highway. They’d gotten an extremely early start, hoping to get enough information so all of the teams could gather before lunch and decide what their next move should be.

  Regan sat beside him with her tablet, charting their journey. So far, between Johnson City and Blanco, they’d marked ten places that provided good opportunities for the devil beast. Dante had pulled off the road each time so Regan could snap a picture with her camera and send it back to the ranch with the coordinates. Randi was manning the computer in Ric’s absence, collecting the information from everyone out in the field.

  When they cruised out of Blanco County into Gillespie, he was more than ready for fresh coffee and a Danish.

  “There’s a great bakery in Fredericksburg,” he told Regan. “How about we stop there for a few minutes, refuel our bodies and make sense out of the information we’ve got so far?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  They had just reached the outskirts of Fredericksburg when their satellite phone rang. Dante handed it to Regan. “Here. You answer.”

  “Regan here,” she said. “What? Just outside Fredericksburg. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Holy shit! All right. Text me the directions and we’ll be on our way.”

  “That didn’t sound like good news,” Dante observed. He pulled into the parking lot of a hardware store. “I’m guessing no coffee and pastry for us.”

  She dropped the phone back in the cup holder and pulled out her tablet. “Let me get to my messages. Ric’s sending us coordinates.”

  “For?” he prompted.

  “Just a sec.” She pulled up the text with the information. “Okay, take US 90 through town here. About two miles past the town limits, we look for Pin Oak Road and turn left.”

  “Ric found something,” he guessed, pulling back onto the road.

  “Yes, but not our elusive devil beast. He and Ben found another body.”

  “Shit.” Dante pounded his fist on the steering wheel. “Shit, shit, shit! Will we ever stop playing catch-up?”

  “I sure hope so. And if we’re lucky, while Lisa and Chloe’s friend are still alive.” She sat back in her seat. “You think there’s a chance they still are? Alive?”

  “I have to believe that. If not I’d go insane.”

  Silence hung between them for a few minutes.

  “You’ll never really move past Felicia’s death, will you?” It was more a statement than a question.

  Dante waited for the white-hot pain that always stabbed through him at the mention of her name. It came, but strangely with less intensity this time. He reached over and took Regan’s hand in his. Squeezed it with what he hoped was reassurance.

  “A few days ago I would have said you’re absolutely right.” He lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. “You weren’t what I expected to find when I walked into The Black Wolf. Or anyone I thought would have such an instant and powerful impact on my life.” He lowered his hand but still kept his fingers around hers. “But it happened and I don’t think I could turn away from it even if I wanted to. Which, by the way, I don’t.”

  “Back at you,” she said. “But I was in a different place. I didn’t have the type of loss you did. I can’t even imagine what you feel. I…” She paused for a moment and he could hear her indrawn breath. “I know you loved her beyond anything.”

  He chose his next words carefully.

  “Yes, I did. But I’m finding something with you I never thought to have again. I almost feel as if you were sent to heal me, Regan. To ease some of that pain. To show that it’s okay to…” He swallowed. “To love again.”

  “Love?” The question was evident in her voice. “Really? Because I know what’s happening between us is exploding like a comet but I didn’t even dare to hope…”

  He gave her hand another squeeze. “I think you’re mending me, Regan. Bringing me to life again.” He paused. “Healing me. Maybe.”

  “I hope so. Because I feel…” Her sentence trailed off as if she couldn’t find the words she wanted. “Oh!” She pulled her hand free and leaned forward. “Here’s Pin Oak Road. Turn left, go about a mile until you see the entrance to Hammond Ranch. Ric gave me the code for the gate. Go to the end of the driveway and you’ll see the beginning of a sort of dirt road at the side of the barn. But apparently it doesn’t last very long. Ric said it’s a good thing the SUV has four-wheel drive because we’ll be driving across rough pasture.”

  “Are they out in the middle of the ranch?” he asked, pulling up to punch in the code. The long metal gate swung open and he headed down the driveway.

  “Yes. Ranches this size usually have what they call a line shack, although shack doesn’t really describe them anymore. Riding fence—riding along the miles of fence line to check for breaks in the wire—can take a long time, depending on the size of the property. Line shacks came into being years ago so, if needed, the hands could have a place to crash overnight without hauling all the way back to the main buildings.”

  “He wasn’t kidding about the rough road.” Dante shifted into four-wheel drive, fighting with the steering wheel as they bounced over bumps and ridges.

  “He said just stay to the left in the open pasture spaces, away from the cattle.”

  “Great.”

  It took about twenty minutes to reach their destination. The helicopter was easy to spot, an off-road vehicle next to it. A small group of men, Ric and Ben among them, stood in a tight circle in front of the cabin.

  “Nobody looks very happy,” Regan commented.

  “If we have another body I can understand why.”

  Dante braked to a stop not far from the action and he and Regan made their way over to where everyone was gathered. Dante noticed that someone had thought to cover the body on the porch so at least it wasn’t open to the elements.

  “Two more of my team,” Ric said as they approached. “Dante Martello, former Chicago cop, and Regan Fortune. Dante’s wife was killed by the devil beast and he was the one who found her. He’s heading up the investigation this time.”

  “This time?” one of the men echoed. He looked similar to the other two but considerably older.

  Dante slid a glance to Ric, who looked as if his patience was hanging by a thread.

  “I understand we have another body here?” He tried to keep his tone as even as possible.

  “A body?” the man raged. “Damn fucking straight we do! Some wild animal killed my oldest employee and your people are trying to make a horror movie out of it. Sell me some kind of weird bullshit. I want all of you off my property!”

  “And you are?” Dante asked.

  “Dan Hammond. I own this ranch. My sons and I, that is.” He gestured at the other two men, who resembled him. “Ron and Russ.”

  “I’ve done my best to explain to everyone what really happened,” Ric said, “but Mr. Hammond seems to think I’ve lost my mind.”

  “Excuse me.” Regan stepped forward, placing herself directly in front of Dan Hammond. “As Ric said, my name is Regan Fortune. My brother’s body is the one they found a few days ago on Wolf Mountain Trail. I know this seems beyond the realm of believability to you, Mr. Hammond, but Reed made a career out of researching and writing about legends. If they had any basis in truth and whether they were grounded in fact or not.”

  “I don’t care what—”

  “I know this is hard to accept,” Regan interrupted. “But what you’ve got here is the result of an attack b
y something more than your average wild animal. There’ve been similar cases like this going on for months. All of us,” she waved a hand to encompass the group, “have lost someone we loved to the Chupacabra. We—”

  “So your friend says. But you aren’t going to sell me some story that’s been hanging around the state for decades,” the man blustered. “We’ve got a wild beast running on my property. I need to gather my hands and some firepower and hunt it down before it starts killing my cattle.”

  “This beast doesn’t go for large animals,” Ric told him. “Only small ones and humans.”

  Dante shoved his hands into his pockets so no one would see how tightly he had them clenched. Ric looked at him and gave a slight shrug. Obviously they’d been going around this circle for a while.

  “Listen—” the old man began.

  Regan held up a hand. “Reed did extensive research on the Chupacabra. I can show you documents and reports, factual sightings, all kinds of evidence. But right now your friend’s body is lying on that porch being disrespected and a dangerous creature is roaming the area. Night Seekers has extensive experience with the Chupacabra. If you want to avenge your friend’s death, listen to them and let them do their job.”

  “I want to get Garth Myers here,” Ric told her. “But we’ve been arguing about this and haven’t gotten anywhere.”

  “Mr. Hammond.” Dante tried to put all his sympathy for the man in his tone of voice. “Please. Listen to us. All of us. Let Ric call the Ranger we’re working with. If you want to honor your friend, then examine the evidence and compare it with everything else you’ve ever known. You’ll see what an anomaly this is.”

  “I pulled up the pictures on my phone,” Ric added, “and the info on the other killings we’ve worked.” He turned back to Dan Hammond. “I know this is unbelievable, but trust me. Sometimes the things you can’t believe are more real than you want to think.”

  “Let me ask you a question,” Dante said. “When you found the body earlier, did you catch the odor of turpentine in the air?”

  The two younger Hammonds looked at each other.